jade

“Everything will be fine, honey,” you try to reassure him once more, reaching out to place your hand on his thigh and giving it a soothing squeeze, which he takes more as a 'you'll have to be strong and endure this, you got yourself into this.'

Steve grabs your hand as he focuses on the road ahead and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a loving kiss on your knuckles. Then he brings your joined hands back to you, placing them on your growing belly.

Your cute little bump is now visible, and it's at the point where everyone can tell that you're definitely pregnant.

“Will he notice?” Steve bites his lower lip, visibly agitated.

“He’ll definitely notice, daddy,” you reply with a giggle, intertwining your fingers over his on your five-month baby bump.

Steve beams at the title, the nerves momentarily eclipsed by pride. 

“God,” he exhales with a goofy smile. “Don't say that, it makes me so happy and horny.”

“Steve,” you call out disapprovingly, even the way you say it is so mom-like that it drives him crazy, with that unforgettable smile curving your lips covered in that cute lip gloss he loves.

“I'm just joking—I'm nervous,” he shrugs and shakes his head. “I just… I really want him to be happy for us.”

You turn your body toward him as much as the seatbelt—and your baby bump— allows, studying his face, the crease between his brows, the way his jaw tightens when he’s nervous. You’ve seen Steve face monsters, literal ones, without flinching. But this? This matters in a way Demogorgons never did.

“He loves you,” you say gently. “He always has. You’re not stealing anything from him. You’re just… joining the family.”

That gets his attention. He looks at you fully now, sunglasses pushed down his nose so you can see his eyes, glossy and sincere.

“What if he thinks we rushed things?” he blurts out. “Or that I’m not ready? Or that I’m gonna screw this up somehow? I mean, my dad was—he is kind of a jerk to me. I don't want Dustin to think that I—”

“Steve, baby, you are already an amazing husband,” you say, voice steady and warm. “And you’re going to be an incredible dad. Dustin knows you. He’s not going to think any of those things. We're family.”

“Family,” he repeats, tasting the word. Then he swallows and nods, like he’s committing it to memory. “Yeah. Okay. Family.”

The massive tires of the Winnebago crunch against the gravel of the university parking lot. Steve kills the engine, but his hands remain white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath, looking at you with a mix of terror and excitement.

Steve gets out of the driver's seat, adjusting his sunglasses with that characteristic confidence of his, although his smile suggests that he is more nervous than usual. He walks around the vehicle and opens the passenger door with exaggerated delicacy.

“Careful, sweetheart. Slowly,” he reminds you, offering you his hand as if you were made of porcelain.

“Steve, I'm just pregnant, I haven't broken my leg,” you chuckle, holding his hand and stepping down from the motorhome.

“Hey, you're carrying a national treasure, so you have to be careful, baby” he answers in an affectionate tone, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before turning toward the big building of the Purdue University.

Not a minute goes by before Dustin runs up through the crowd of college students, carrying a huge backpack and a huge smile lighting up his face, so happy to see you two after months of phone calls, letters, and postcards.

“Hey, buddy—oh! ” Steve greets him, hugging Dustin with joy, and Dustin hugs him back tightly, giggling in delight.

“Harrington, you're here!” the young man exclaims excitedly, “You're both here.”

His eyes wander from the huge camper behind you both and finally come to focus on you. His eyebrows furrow for a second, momentarily confused by the extra volume in your midsection, until the realization finally sinks in. 

And his mouth drops open, dumbfounded, stammering your name.

“Oh shit, is that... a baby?” His voice rises three pitches. “Is there a baby in there?!”

You can't hide your excitement and open your arms, fully revealing your pregnancy state. “Surprise, Dusty! You're going to be an uncle.”

Dustin drops his backpack, which hits the ground with a thud.

“Oh shit! Are you kidding me?!” he lunges toward you, carefully wrapping you in a hug that avoids putting pressure on your belly but transmits all his emotion.

His hands tremble slightly as he gestures toward your cute bump.

“May I...?” he requests with sparkling eyes.

You nod gently and Steve draws closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and looking at Dustin with a huge smile, his lips trembling with happiness.

Dustin places a hand on your bump with near-religious reverence. Right then, you feel a little kick, as if the baby is greeting his favourite —and only—uncle.

“Oh my God! It moved!” Dustin leaps back, half scared, half euphoric. “My niece or nephew just communicated with me via tactile vibration!” he chirps enthusiastically. “That’s a sign of high intelligence, definitely a Henderson trait!"

Steve finds himself relaxed at last, realizing that Dustin isn't upset, but rather the opposite, beaming with happiness for the baby. 

He lets out a huff of laughter, “I'm pretty sure all babies do that, buddy.”

You laugh as well, leaning back into Steve’s chest and admiring the scene with soft eyes. “We wanted to tell you in person.”

Dustin looks back at you, his face softening. “I can't believe it. This is going to be the best road trip ever! I already have a list of books we need to read to the bump. Starting with The Hobbit, obviously."

Steve rolls his eyes but pulls you both closer. “Alright, Uncle Genius. Load your gear. The passenger VIP is getting hungry, and we have a long drive ahead.”

As Dustin climbs into the camper, already rambling about "prenatal brain stimulation" and the specific frequency of music he’s going to play for the baby, Steve pauses at the door. 

He turns back to you, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head, revealing eyes that are shimmering with tears he’d never admit to.

“We did it,” he whispers, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “He’s happy.”

“I told you he would be,” you say against his mouth.