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“No. No. Absolutely not,” Steve’s voice is sharp.
“I mean… your house is the biggest, and it’s abandoned other than you,” Robin points to Steve, “and her,” Robin points to you.
You take Steve’s hand, “We need to protect him. Your house is isolated and he doesn’t know his way around, so it’ll be harder for him to get out if he tries to make a break for it.”
Steve glares at you, but his expression softens the second you brush your thumb over the backside of his hand. Your touch always manages to comfort him, even when you’re discussing what to do with the kidnapped boy that you have to protect from an evil wizard. God, it sounds even more ridiculous the more you think about it.
Steve shakes his head, “Why did I agree to this in the first place?”
“Because it was a good plan,” Joyce chimes in.
“Clearly not good enough,” Erica retorts. “We still need to keep an eye on Dipshit Derek and keep him from waking up again.”
When Derek woke up the first time, it threw off the entire group. Nancy managed to jab him with another dose of benzos before he could alert anyone outside of what was going on. From what the boy had said in the couple minutes he was conscious, you could tell that he was the exact dipshit Erica and Lucas had described him as.
Dustin rolls his eyes, “Just take the kid, Steve. You two are like the Mom and Dad of the group, it’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, it’s all fine until we go to jail for drugging and kidnapping an entire family!” Steve’s voice grows louder with each word.
“How about this?” Nancy steps between Dustin and Steve. “Rock, paper, scissors. Both plans have risks and benefits, so we leave it up to chance.”
You nod, “It’s the best way to solve this. Just do it, baby.”
“Yeah, just do it, baby,” Dustin mocks.
Steve looks like he’s seconds away from strangling Dustin, but instead he prepares to play. Dustin and Steve are both taking this game of rock, paper, scissors way too seriously. Steve is crouched forward, fist already prepared. And Dustin has a fiery look in his eyes.
“Rock, paper, scissors… shoot!” They call out in unison.
Dustin holds up paper and Steve holds up rock. Dustin cheers.
Steve groans, “Come on, man.”
…
With the way Steve has slung Derek over his shoulder, it looks like the boy is just asleep. Maybe it’s better if you think about it that way.
“I can’t believe this shit. Can you?”
All you can manage to do is shake your head. You step in front of Steve to unlock the front door. Once the door is open, Steve carries Derek in with ease.
“Where should I put him?”
“In the basement.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, "Totally not creepy at all.”
“Fine,” You roll your eyes. “Put him in one of your guest bedrooms.”
A guest bedroom is definitely more humane than the basement, even though it’s a bigger risk. Derek is still a kid, no matter the circumstances; Steve is somehow more able to see this than you are, the stakes of the situation must be clouding your judgement.
Steve carries Derek to the guest room at the far side of his house. You open the door for him again, walking in first so you can peel up the blanket. Steve carefully lays Derek down on the bed and tucks him in. For a split second, it feels like you two are just tucking your son into bed. You laugh at the thought.
“What is it?”
“We’re more like parents than kidnappers,” you chuckle again.
A soft smile forms on Steve’s face, “I guess Henderson was right, we really are the Mom and Dad of the group.”
“You’re definitely Mom.”
Steve snorts, “Fine, Dad.”
Derek stirs in bed. The movement sends shockwaves up your spine.
Steve caresses your lower back, “I can keep watch if you want to get some rest.”
“We should stick together. Just in case.”
The two of you sit down in front of the door. Your head finds its way to Steve’s shoulder.
“What do you think the others are planning?” He whispers.
"Hopefully not another kidnapping.”
“We’re the only sane ones in a group full of crazy people.”
“We can’t be that sane if we went along with it,” you joke.
Steve slips his brown jacket off and lays it over your legs like a blanket. You set your head back down on Steve’s chest, the fibers of his sweater tickling your skin. It was hard enough not to fall asleep before, but sitting like this makes it impossible. You yawn.
Steve reaches up to stroke your arm, “I could stay here with you forever.”
“In the guest room where we’re keeping the child we kidnapped?”
“No, in a room with one of our own little nuggets. I’ve always dreamed of having six. A full brood of Harringtons.”
“That sounds nice, chaotic, but nice.”
Before you can stop yourself, you fall asleep with the thought of Steve and your six nuggets fresh on your mind.
…
You wake up to the feeling of two small hands pulling at your arm. For a moment, you think that Steve’s dream has come true until you open your eyes and see Dipshit Derek.
“Steve!”
Steve stirs, eyes blinking open slowly before he finally catches sight of the scene in front of him.
“Get out of my way, kidnappers!”
Steve hops up and tries to pull Derek off of you. But the kid swerves him and tries to push you down from the other side. You plant your hands in the carpet, holding on for dear life. Derek is stronger than he looks.
“Let me out!”
Steve finally manages to pick him up. Derek flails in his arms.
“Kid, we’re not going to hurt you. We’re just trying to help.”
You stand up, making sure to keep your body in front of the door, “Yeah, if you calm down, we’ll tell you everything.”
Derek turns to Steve like he’s finally going to calm down, then spits in Steve’s face. Saliva splats against Steve’s cheek, leaving a glob in the middle with traces going all the way out to his hairline.
“Suck my fat one!” Derek begins to fight again, squirming in Steve’s arms. “Help! Someone help!”
You do the only thing you can think of and put your hand over Derek’s mouth to shut him up. Of course the little shit licks your hand, but you don’t pull away. Steve looks equally shocked and disgusted. You wipe the saliva off of his cheek with your free hand. Derek alternates between licking your hand and making attempts to shout.
“Listen! You’re going to quiet down and let us explain ourselves. Then, we’ll answer any questions you have. Just… stop yelling.”
You’re taken aback by Steve’s tone. You’re even more surprised when Derek actually listens, his muffled shouts stop and his tongue retreats back into his mouth, thank God.
“My girlfriend’s going to take her hand off your mouth now, and you’re going to stay quiet, right?” Steve’s voice is firm but not mean.
Derek nods vigorously, so you remove your spit coated hand from his mouth. Your nose wrinkles up at the sight of your palm; you’re going to have to wash it for at least ten minutes to get it to feel remotely clean again.
“If I set you down, will you stay put?”
Derek nods again. Steve gently sits him down on top of the tangled sheets on the bed. When it feels safe enough to, you leave the room and go to the nearest bathroom. You scrub your hand quickly before wetting a piece of paper towel for Steve’s cheek. The room is still silent when you return. You wipe the sheen of saliva off of Steve’s face as best as you can. Titling his head to make sure that you haven’t missed a spot.
“Gross,” Derek mutters.
You turn to him, “Whose fault is that?”
“Maybe you should think about that before becoming a child kidnapper.”
Steve sighs, “We’re not child kidnappers. My name is Steve and that’s my girlfriend,” Steve points and introduces you.
“We’re trying to save you from Vec… Henry.”
“Mr. Whatsit is trying to save us from the monsters. He’s a good guy.”
You shake your head, “He’s lying to you. The monsters in Hawkins are his monsters. He wants to use you, not help you. Last night, he would’ve used one of those monsters to take you if we hadn’t stepped in.”
“How do I know you aren’t lying? I trust Mr. Whatsit more than you kidnappers. How do I know you’re not the monsters he’s trying to save me from?”
“The full story sounds crazy, because it is, but you’ll trust us once you hear it.”
So, you and Steve go through the story of the Upside Down with Derek, starting with Will’s disappearance.
“Zombie Boy?”
“Yeah, Will Byers,” Steve beats you to correcting him.
You face many more interruptions throughout the rest of the story, especially about the names, which is hard to explain without the boys’ D&D knowledge, but the two of you manage to get through it. By the end, Derek looks unconvinced.
“You’re both crazy.”
“Do we look crazy?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Derek pauses before saying. “If you’re not, prove it.”
“How could we possibly prove it here?” You retort.
You glance at Steve, who’s deep in thought. Then, unprompted, he pulls up his shirt. You don’t understand what he’s getting at until he gestures to the scars on his stomach.
“Do those look like they came from a normal animal?”
“No…”
You look back at Derek, “Do you believe us now?”
Slowly, he nods, “I guess so.”
…
“Crust off or on?” Steve asks.
“Off,” Derek takes another gulp of soda, then belches.
Steve smiles as he cuts the crust off each side of Derek’s sandwich.
You lean in and plant a kiss against Steve’s jaw, “Are you having fun playing house?”
“So much fun,” He presses a kiss to your lips.
Steve has to pull himself away from you before he goes any further. He gives you a look that says that you’ll finish up later. You try not to wonder how far away later is. How long is it going to take the group to come up with and prepare a plan? Even then, they might leave the two of you on Derek duty while they execute the plan. Once Steve’s done with Derek’s sandwich, he sets it on a plate alongside a handful of chips and slides it to Derek.
“Is this drugged?”
“What?” Steve looks confused. “No.”
That’s all it takes for Derek to start devouring the sandwich.
“Poor kid must’ve been so hungry,” Steve whispers.
You blink at him, “Do you seriously feel sorry for Dipshit Derek?”
“You say that like he’s a supervillain, he’s just a kid,” Steve sounds oddly defensive.
“I know.”
The next few minutes are silent, barring Derek’s frequent, purposeful burps, you wonder what you said to get Steve upset. He has a pensive look on his face as he makes your sandwich, then his.
“Can I have another, Mr. Steve?”
Steve stops mid bite and nods, “‘f course, bud.”
Bud? Derek spat in Steve’s face a few hours ago, now he’s his… bud? You stare at Steve, trying to puzzle this out. He, of course, avoids your gaze and gets up to make Derek another sandwich.
“Eat, baby,” Steve gestures to the sandwich in front of you. “You haven’t had anything since yesterday.”
“Baby?” Derek gags.
“Okay, honey bun,” you reply.
You’ve never called Steve honey bun before, but in response to Derek’s disgust, you’ve decided to amp things up. Derek gags again, yet there’s something else in his expression. The tips of Steve’s ears turn red.
Steve spins around, pointing a bottle of mustard out towards Derek, “Please don’t vomit in my house. You’ll be the one cleaning it up.”
‘Bullshit’ is the first thing that comes to your mind. Despite the empty threats he makes towards the kids, he rarely follows through. The only time you’ve seen him do so was when Lucas and Dustin spilled a slushie in the back of Steve’s beemer on their way back from the movies; he made them scrub until there were no signs that anyone had ever been in the back seat, much less spilled something in it.
Steve finishes Derek’s second sandwich quickly. Being left to his own devices for stretches in his childhood and always having kids around has made Steve a master sandwich maker. With the crusts cut off so cleanly, it looks like he used a ruler to do so. You can’t help but notice that Derek and Steve like their sandwiches the same way, though Steve will eat it either way if he’s hungry enough.
…
After lunch, Steve decides it’s the perfect time to play a board game. In his closet are a stack of brand new, yet somehow already battered board games that he bought for the kids to play whenever they came over.
“Which one do you think he’ll like?” Steve holds up a box. “I’m thinking Shark Attack.”
You reach up, grabbing another game, “What about Monopoly?”
You raise a knowing eyebrow. The fact that Steve even still has the game is surprising.
“That’s a no. That stupid game mixed with a kid like Derek is a recipe for disaster.”
“You’re just bitter about the time the kids teamed up against you to win.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair, “Because it was unfair. They were targeting me for the fun of it. It only helped Dustin in the long run. That kid is good at everything, I swear.”
You laugh, “Fine. Shark Attack it is.”
It isn’t until you start to leave the room that you remember the situation you’re in. Steve has made this all feel so normal, even though he was the one who originally had the most objections. Not that you didn’t have yours, but he’s suddenly gone mom mode as if nothing’s going on.
“Wait, Steve,” You turn. “What’s up with you?”
“What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“You’re treating Dipshit Derek like he’s just another one of the kids. Like we didn’t kidnap him to save him from monsters that are still hunting for him. It’s like everything we know about him, everything he did earlier, didn’t happen. I know you love kids and you’re good with them, but this is at a whole other level.”
“What, were we supposed to throw him in the basement to fend for himself just because he can be a bit of an asshole? He’s a kid. A little rich asshole, but a kid. I know what it’s like to be that kid.”
“Steve…”
“You wouldn’t get it. I know it seems like there are no problems when you grow up like I did but there are. Money doesn’t matter as much when your parents just throw it at you as a lame apology for not being around. I bet you Derek’s parents are the same way, that’s why he acts the way he does. At least, that’s why I did it. I was mad at the world, and I just wanted someone to see me.”
You pause, “I didn’t think of it that way.”
“I know you didn’t, babe. I’m not mad, I just… I think we should have more, I don’t know, empathy, compassion? The kid is a little shit, don’t get me wrong.”
Steve’s revelation makes so much sense that you’re annoyed that you didn’t catch it earlier. Of course, Steve would see himself in a kid like Derek. Like he said, he was a Derek not too long ago. And Derek’s response to Steve is clearer now as well. The kid just needed to be seen, not judged. You’re guessing Steve is one of the first people to.
“Let’s go play some Shark Attack,” you smile.
Steve grins back and plants a kiss on your cheek before both of you leave the room. Derek is sitting impatiently on the couch, surfing through channels on the Harrington’s massive TV. When he sees the game in Steve’s hands, he jumps up to grab it.
“Holy shit! I love this game.”
As you play, Steve and Derek get more competitive. Their energy seems to affect you too, even though it’s a game of luck. Every time one of your or Steve’s fish gets eaten by the shark, Derek cheers at the top of his lungs. Steve does the same thing when Derek’s fish gets eaten.
“Boom! I won again. Suck it losers.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Pure luck. I’ll beat you next time.”
Steve does not in fact beat him the next time. Or the time after that. Eventually, they both seem to get bored with the game.
You lean towards Derek, “Do you want to see Steve get really mad?”
Derek nods without even thinking and starts to pack everything back into the box. You disappear upstairs and come back with the Monopoly box in your hands.
“Oh no,” Steve groans.
Once the board is set up, you form a plan with Derek. Steve watches the two of you whisper like you’re plotting to attack him, not just beat him at a kids’ game.
“Just wait and see how red his face gets. He’s like a human tomato.”
“You know I can hear you, right?”
Derek cackles.
You put on a faux sweet smile, “I’m well aware, Stevie.”
“Jesus Christ,” He murmurs. “It’s already happening.”
“You’re going down, Mr. Steve.”
The game goes as expected, you and Derek get the upper hand, leaving Steve more and more annoyed. What you forgot about was the fact that only one of you can win after you get Steve out. Derek is insanely good at Monopoly, perks of being from a family that runs a real estate empire, and wipes the floor with you. All you can do is sit there and lose, which seems to re-inflate Steve.
He elbows you, “Wow, you really didn’t think this one through.”
“Shut up.”
“Who’s bitter now?”
“Still you.”
You roll a six on your next turn, landing you on Atlantic Avenue, where Derek has three hotels.
“Shit.”
You dejectedly gather up the last of your money and hand it to Derek.
“Ha! I won.”
The rest of the day follows this same pattern: playing games, forming alliances, Derek gloating. Despite his competitive nature, you notice that Steve purposefully fumbles a few games just to see Derek’s grin when he wins yet another game. After making your way through Steve’s board game supply, you decide a movie is the best idea. It’ll calm Derek down before bed and give you all a much needed break.
Steve leaves to make popcorn while Derek hunts through Steve’s VHS supply. He waits for Steve to come back with a giant bowl of popcorn before he turns on some comedy, you know Steve’s seen a hundred times.
“This is a great movie,” Steve’s words are muffled by the popcorn in his mouth.
“Yeah,” Derek’s grin has softened into something lighter.
By the end of the movie, Derek fast asleep curled up next to Steve.
“I think he has Stockholm syndrome,” You whisper.
Steve rolls his eyes, then wraps Derek in a blanket and carries him upstairs. After a few minutes, Steve isn’t back yet, so you head upstairs to check on him. The door to the guest room is slightly cracked. When you peek in, you see Derek asleep in bed and Steve lying on the floor beside him. You close the door and leave Steve with his newest adoptee.