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treat my condition (with a full head-on collision)

Summary:

After the Battle of Starcourt, the team reunite and find that something isn't quite right with Steve.

- or:
Addressing Steve's injuries properly unlike some people

REVISED ON 30/11/2025 - meaning this work has been moderately edited to fix mistakes / improve on my old writing.

Notes:

Me: flames the duffer brothers for being too scared to kill anyone
Also me: writes an everyone lives au

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

-

 

When Hopper and Joyce reach the surface, it's alarmingly quiet until they get to the main entrance of Starcourt. For just a moment, Joyce worries that something terrible has happened when she smells smoke and finds the entire central plaza charred and covered in the gore of the monster, or what's left of it. But they approach the entrance and find that a lot of people are gathered inside.

 

It seems Billy is no longer flayed, given the fact that he's sitting against the side of the broken fountain with his head in his hands, and Max is kneeling beside him. El and Mike are sitting together, on the only other side of the fountain that's still intact, and she's resting her head on his shoulder. Lucas and Will are stood by the entrance, and Will notices the adults returning first.

 

His face seems to light up as he runs to his mother and holds her in a tight hug. In her peripheral vision, Joyce sees Hopper going over to see El, and the other kids walking up too. Joyce sobs softly and closes her eyes, elated to be holding her youngest son again. Another body joins the embrace, and she doesn't need to open her eyes to know it's Jonathan.

 

She pulls away quickly, eyes frantic as she checks them over,
"Are either of you hurt? Is anyone back yet? Dustin and-"

 

"Dustin and Erica are still at Cerebro-" Will explains, and then Jonathan cuts in,

"Steve and his friend came back to help but... he's not doing so good." Joyce is quick to follow Jonathan as he runs off to the bathrooms. There she finds Nancy standing outside the men's, where she fills her in,

"Robin says they were drugged by the Russians earlier? She seems fine now but Steve is a different story."

 

Joyce says nothing; she just bursts into the bathrooms and makes her way over to the two pairs of feet in a middle stall. She knocks on the door softly,

"Robin? It's Mrs Byers, i-is everything okay?" She knows that Robin has never spoken to her before, and she'd much rather check on Steve directly, but he's probably not in a state to talk coherently.

 

The stall door unlocks after a good deal of shuffling and struggling. The door only opens a small amount, since there's two people on the floor in a stall, that ideally only fits one person who's... not on the floor. The girl awkwardly stands up in the space behind the door and squeezes out of the stall, giving them some breathing room.

 

Joyce nods quickly at Robin, who mumbles a whole lot of gibberish as she straightens out her battle-worn sailor outfit,

"I think the truth serum stuff they gave him reallllllyyy didn't mix well with all the fighting and the uh, the torture and stuff and I think he probably has a concussion?" Joyce smiles sadly as she opens the door,

"Wouldn't be the first. Are you okay?"

 

"Um, I guess so? I mean besides the headache and the exhaustion and the ever-increasing ache in my arms, uh, yeah, I'm fine, totally fine. I'll- um, I'll go see if the ambulances are here yet, nice to meet you Mrs Byers!"

Robin scurries away, and Joyce turns to the boy on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. His hair is a mess, as big as ever but no longer stylish, and there's even more dried blood and vomit all over him. Joyce slips into the stall and kneels next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

"Steve?"

 

He sighs softly, eyes still shut,

"M'good..." He grips onto his knees harder, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. It seems that he's telling himself that. She frowns and gives his shoulder a light squeeze,

"Can you hear me?"

 

After a second or two, Steve finally looks up at her. His gaze is cast down to the Russian uniform she's wearing, but once he recognises her face, he relaxes. He's still rocking as she smiles softly at him,

"I wanna help you, okay? You've just gotta tell me what's wrong," Joyce rubs his shoulder slowly, looking right in his eyes and hoping he understands her.

 

Steve eventually stops rocking, straightens his legs and replies, voice scratchy and weak,
"My head... and my throat..." Joyce gives him an encouraging smile. She's worried, but at least he's trying his best to let her help.

 

"Just those things? Does anything else hurt?" she says, gently working her hand up to his face and trying to get a better look at his injured eye. One of Steve's hands goes up to touch her arm, and Joyce glances down,

"What's wrong?"

 

He holds her arm and moves his hand up until he's gripping onto her own hand. For a moment Joyce's expression softens, thinking he just wants to hold her hand, but then he drags it in and places it over his abdomen. Then it makes sense; he's showing, since telling isn't really working out for him.

 

She sighs in realisation, keeping her flat palm where he placed it even after he lets his hand fall back to his side,

"Your stomach?" In response, Steve shuts his eyes again and jerks his head slightly, which is the best nod he can do right now. Joyce bites her lip and moves her hand away, before getting an idea. Or, more of an extension to Steve's original idea.

 

"Does it hurt here?" she asks, placing her hand slightly higher, over his chest. He winces and nods.

 

"What about here? Do your arms hurt?" She puts her hand just above his right elbow. He manages a small shrug.

 

"Here?" She touches just above his knee. He shakes his head.

 

"Here-"

 

Steve cuts her off with a hitched breath as she puts her hand on his left ankle. She immediately retracts it and places her hand back on his shoulder

"It's okay hon, I'm sorry." He looks up at her with wide, blown-out eyes, holding onto her arm again.

 

Joyce decides that she needs to get him out of the tiny stall and somewhere more comfortable. She holds Steve under his arms and pulls him up, closer to her body as she sort of drags him to the middle of the bathroom. His whole weight is leaning on her as he groans and lifts his hands to hold onto her jacket. She isn't strong enough to hold him for long, so she has to put him back down on the floor for a breather, and before she agitates his ankle.

 

"Help's on the way, hon, just hang in there for me," she tells him gently, hand on his upper back. Steve doesn't respond, just catches his breath, as he grips onto her and softly bumps his chin on her shoulder. When Joyce feels his grip loosen and his head drop onto her shoulder, she pulls away,

"No no no, Steve. You have to stay awake-"

 

Hopper bursts into the bathroom.

"What's wrong with him?" he asks immediately. Joyce shakes her head; Hopper is straight to the point, as always. The latter kneels beside her and Steve as she explains,

"He's been drugged, and probably concussed again. His ankle is pretty bad too."

 

Hopper doesn't waste time in taking Steve's leg and carefully pulling off his shoe. Steve groans softly, muffled by Joyce's shoulder, and the latter gently shushes him, starting to rub his back. After Hopper gets his shoe and sock off, he sighs when he sees that his ankle is badly bruised, and starting to swell. It's definitely broken.

 

"It's so swollen already... how long ago did he break it?" Joyce wonders aloud as she watches Hopper work away. The latter doesn't take his eyes away as he explains,

"Adrenaline is a damn good painkiller. The kid he works with told me what the Russians did, so God knows what they pumped 'em full of. Those drugs might've messed up his nerves. My best guess? He broke it when he crashed the car, probably just felt numb until now."

 

Steve's body starts to go lax in Joyce's arms, and she pulls away to get a good look at his face. His eyes are already closed, but he's not unconscious yet,

"He's gonna faint, Hop. He needs a doctor."

 

"We're working on that," he replies, taking Steve from Joyce and picking him up in a bridal carry. The boy rests his head on Hopper's shoulder, too far gone now to even attempt to stay awake. If he was any more aware he'd be pulling away and insisting that he doesn't need to be carried, even when he really does.

 

He leaves the bathroom with Joyce eagerly following, until he makes it to the main entrance of the mall and finds that it's empty. Then he sees the blue lights flashing from outside, reflecting against the puddles that came from the leaking fountain.

 

Finally, help has arrived. As soon as Joyce opens the doors for them, the sound of the commotion floods their ears, and unfamiliar people are heading towards them, all wearing black. They must be Owens' men.

 

Some of them rush towards Hopper, quickly taking Steve off his hands despite the former's protests and warnings of his injuries. Others escort Joyce to her sons that are sitting in the backs of ambulances.

 

Owens walks up to Hopper.

 

"Sorry it took so long. I couldn't-"

 

"Better late than never, I guess," he says, pushing past him and following the men who have Steve. He watches as he's laid in the back of an ambulance and handed off to the paramedics.

 

"What happened?!" Hopper hears from behind him. It's the unmistakable voice of Dustin, who must've just arrived from the hill. He runs over to Hopper and stands beside him.

 

"Concussion, broken ankle, whatever the hell was in that mystery truth serum."

 

He looks over in time to see Dustin's face of horror, and he assures him,

"He'll be fine, kid."

 

-

Notes:

edit, 30/11/2025:
i no longer like stranger things enough (thanks a lot, zionist cast members and shoddy writing...) to make an entirely new fic, but i still like season 3 enough to go back and fix my mid writing.

edit, 31/12/2025:
SO I MADE AN ENTIRELY NEW FIC-