The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.

“What do you mean?” Dustin eventually speaks up. “Is he… ill?”

“No, no, it’s… his parents came home, right?”

“Yeah, we know,” Max snorts. “Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn’t leave.”

“He can’t avoid them forever,” Dustin points out. “I get that it’s hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they’re, like, paying for all his shit.”

“No they aren’t!” Robins voice cracks. “They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he’s writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad.”

“Why is that a bad thing?” El asks, eyes a little wide.

“He’d have to train for a few months in New York for one.”

“New York?!” All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They’re so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.

“What the hell is going on?” He snaps.

The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. “We are worried about Steve.”

“What? Jeez, that’s what you’re yelling about?”

“He’s moving away!” Mike snaps. “To New York! For months!”

Hopper frowns at him like he’s not making sense. “New York?”

“To work with his dad,” Robin adds. “I didn’t know if I should talk him out-”

“They’re back?” Hopper asks. He’s gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. “How long?”

“A month? Maybe more, it-”

“And they’re home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It’s not one of his shifts, is it? That’d make it easier.”

“What? No, he’s home. Make what easier?”

Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. “Stay here, I won’t be long.”

He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She’s too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.

Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.

“Where is he?” Hopper asks.

She steps back, letting him in. “In his room.”

Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it’s Hopper.

“Hop,” Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. “Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. “Come on, pack up.”

“I can’t just-”

“Yes you can. Pack. Up.”

Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn’t take them long.

“I’ll come back for the rest, if you want any of it,” Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. “Wait in the car. I’ll be a minute.”

Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn’t say goodbye.

“Right, here’s what’s going to happen; I’m going to come back for the rest of his things. I’ve seen that room, I’ll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don’t try to bullshit me.” Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. “He’s an adult now. You can’t take him back and if I hear that either of you’ve been trying to harass him again, I’ll press charges.”

She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.

“Um… could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?” Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. “I, uh… I need to see Eddie.”

Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn’t be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles.

But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.

“Oh,” Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. “Harrington, you doing alright?”

“No,” Hopper answers for him. “Could we come in for a moment?”

“Sure?” Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. “Eddie’s in his room, if you want me to get him?”

“You want your boy to see?” Hopper asks Steve.

Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, “he probably will anyway.”

“Ok. Do you want him here for this?”

“Here for what?” Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve tries to say. “It’s… really, it’s nothing.”

“Steve,” Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. “Where?”

“Hopper, it’s fine, really.”

“Where?”

Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.

He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There’s a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He’s careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. “Oh, baby, who did this?”

“It’s fine,” Steve tries to insist.

Hopper clears his throat though. “Where else?”

Steve doesn’t try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.

“Fuck,” Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn’t complain.

Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. “His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here.”

“Don’t worry about Steve,” Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. “Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they’ll be leaving in a body bag. I’m sick of assholes treating my kids like this.”

Hopper looks over at Eddie, who’s pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. “I’m getting the rest of his stuff, he’s got no reason to go back there. It’s my cabin he’s coming home to.”

“I’ll drive him there myself,” Wayne glances at the pair, who think they’re being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. “Tomorrow.”

Hopper leaves the trailer. He drives back to the cabin in silence. When he gets there, he does not slam any doors. He does not scream. He remains tight and controlled and absolutely silent.

Hopper is furious. But more than that, he is regretful.

He knew. For years. But Hopper couldn’t do anything. Richard and Georgia Harrington prioritize reputation and their perfect little family above all else. Any threats to that are out of a job at best and out of Hawkins at worst. 

Hopper couldn’t jeopardize his position, not when it meant more harm than good for Harrington and all the other kids being damaged behind white picket fences. 

So, he did what he could. He kept Steve at the station instead of driving him home from parties that got shut down. He shut down Steve’s parties without bringing anyone in, just in case word got back. He investigated the noise complaints. All of the noise complaints.

Later, he made the plan with Steve. Told him what to pack, how to get out.

Hopper did what he could, and it still wasn’t enough because Steve still got hurt. 

Steve got hurt. And Jonathan used to. And Max used to. And from the look in Eddie’s eyes when he hugged Steve, he used to, too.

Hopper is sick of being too late. Of not being enough. For all his kids, and, hell, for Joyce, too.

But those kinds of thoughts don’t help anyone.

Hopper goes to sleep. Tries to, anyway. Tomorow, Wayne will drop Steve off. Tomorrow, he’ll have another kid safe.

Traumatized to hell and back, but safe.

he carries around a copy of "the little book of lgbtq" in his backpack at all times in case he needs to look something up.

a good chunk of his youtube history is queer history / queer media / 'what it's like to be x' videos. he thinks all of you with the less famous identities (ie not the L G B or T) are very cool and funky and hopes you have a good day.

he knows he's straight because he has kissed men on several occasions and was not into it sexually. one of those times was a gay dude who promised to buy him drinks all night in exchange for a kiss and my boyfriend is nothing if not a wee whore. one of the others was kissing his gay friend who was depressed about not being able to hook up with anyone, because he is a very sweet wee whore.

Steve: *turns in swivel chair* care to tell me where you were?

Dustin: I was with... Uh... Eddie!

Not to mention the way the money was made

Like, I get that famous actors have large amounts of money, some of them are even probably overpaid (I have complicated thoughts about how actors are paid because of the nature of acting as a career), but they are exchanging labor for money, and their salaries are an expense involved in making a movie.

But like... an actor is paid for a job. They’re a worker like the rest of us. Bezos isn’t paid for a job, he’s paid for being the person who owns Amazon and despite being obscenely wealthy, he does all sorts of shitty things and to underpay and exploit his workers, and avoid paying taxes, so that more of the money Amazon generates will be profit (worker’s salaries are not profit, they’re a business expense). 

These two mechanisms of acquiring money are fundamentally very different.