#hargrove!reader

but, here you were.

and somehow the worst part about it wasn't the punches, kicks, and blows they were dealing you when you had no answers to their questions - no, it was steve's screams in the other room as they did much worse to him.

your hands were tied behind your back, sitting in a chair alone with these damn russian soldiers. you couldn't hear robin, so either she was in a room far away or she was cooperating - and knowing her, you assumed it was the first one.

"you lie!"

fed up with their crap and their punches, you finally just shouted, "i'm telling the truth! we're teenagers who work in the damn mall and you're just sloppy commies who didn't hide their elevator well enough!"

and that's when they started hitting you exclusively.

a sharp slap to the cheek that had your lips bleeding instantly and your cheek searing in pain.

"how did you find us?" the only man who seemed to speak english asked coldly, hands behind his back as he watched you carefully.

"look, i get that this looks really bad," you told them, shaking your head with wide eyes. "but, i promise we don't actually know anything, okay? your transmission went too far up and we heard it and got curious. honestly, if a bunch of teenagers can find their way down here, you have to get better at-"

you'd been hit before. many times. mostly by your brother, if you had to be honest.

but as this large russian man sent his fist into your jaw, you started to believe that billy had been pulling his punches all this time, because you'd never felt something as painful as this.

you cried out, jaw throbbing as you doubled over in pain.

in the other room, you could hear steve yelling like he never had before, loud shrieks and then, "stop hurting her! i can hear her, stop hurting her! we don't know anything, there's no need-!"

loud clanks and then a smash, and suddenly he was screaming again.

your chest seized up, breathing staggering as you looked up at the guards in charge of you again.

"what do you know?" the older one demanded.

"i don't know anything, alright? all of this was an accident." the one who punched you yelled in russian and punched you in the lower stomach, earning a pained grunt. you gurgled as your lunch from yesterday rose, burning your throat before you swallowed it back down, breathing heavily. "shit, do they not teach manners in russia? i'm a lady, mother fucker."

this man was extra angry, it seemed, as his face screwed up in frustration and he turned to the tray of particularly exciting tools they'd just been using to try to coax you into giving away information you didn't have.

and he grabbed the largest knife.

you tensed, sitting up and leaning back in your chair as if that would keep him from using it against you.

in the other room, it seemed steve was being faced with something similarly dangerous. he screamed, only muffled by the thin wall between you, "oh no, no, no, come on, seriously, i-!"

there was a thud, your eyes widening. your breathing quickened, testing the strength of your restraints again.

"seriously?" you asked, really panicking now while trying not to think about whatever the hell they just did to steve in the other room. "i think you're taking this too far. i'm just a kid, can't you see that? i just graduated high school, i'm not old enough for any of this shit."

as the man stepped forward, brandishing his knife, the older one who spoke english held out a hand, halting him. he shook his head, muttering something in russian. the other man shot you a glare but dropped the knife anyways, grabbing his walkie talkie instead and muttering into it.

it wasn't thirty seconds later that steve and robin were dragged in, steve limp in the guards' arms and robin wriggling against them. "let go of me!"

"steve!" you shouted, eyes widening as they landed on his bloodied face. you glared at the guards in charge of him. "what did you do to him?"

"guess he didn't cooperate either," your interrogator answered, smiling and shrugging like it was so casual to be torturing eighteen year olds.

steve stirred only when he heard your voice, lifting his head, eyes glassy and unfocused until they found yours. his gaze sharpened, brows knitting as they pushed him towards you. "hey, y/n," he said, like saying your name would somehow keep you breathing.

his face was covered in blood, his eye swollen and black, his lips split in more than one place and his hair messier than you'd ever seen it, the ends sticky with his blood from where it had fallen in his face.

they shoved him into a chair, his back now to you as they tied you both together with two belt-like straps. robin was thrown into her own chair, her straps tied to a pipe on the wall as she was forced to stare at the two of you still coated in your own blood.

your guard circled back to you, that ridiculous smile on his face as he said, "i think you two could use a doctor." he crouched in front of you, hands on his knees. you could feel steve tense against the restraints, the ties pulling against your front as he struggled to sit up better. "good thing we have the very best."

the general glanced around at his soldiers, beginning to laugh heartily as though he'd just made the funniest joke they'd heard in years.

instinct had you spitting in his face like you had billy every time he got too close, and you got the same answer - a sharp slap to the cheek.

"stop it!" steve writhed behind you, pushing at his restraints even if he could hardly see past the blood in his eyes. "don't touch her!"

"aw," the man said, pouting as he glanced between you both. "is that your boyfriend?" he stepped past you, resting a hand on your hair and patting as steve turned to glare sharply at him. "you both will regret this."

robin let out a shaky, terrified breath as they all filed out of the room, her eyes darting between you both. "see?" she said, trying at a joke with a lame shrug and an even lamer, shaking smile. "even he sees it."

she'd been trying to convince you both to admit that you had feelings for each other the entire summer, but you'd refused. you were certain that if billy found out you were dating steve harrington, the one boy in hawkins he hated more than lucas, he wouldn't just take it out on you, but on him too. and you weren't willing to test that theory.

nor were you willing to tempt fate and find out that steve actually did not return your feelings.

and that would hurt worse than billy.

"not the time, rob," you sighed, leaning your head back to rest it against steve's.

his breaths were slow, labored, and deep, and subconsciously you began counting them to ensure there were enough, and syncing them with yours. your hands were still tied behind your backs, steve fiddling with his ties before you asked, "you still breathing?"

"yeah," he sighed, eyes falling shut. "you?"

"yeah," you answered.

he tilted his head slightly, nudging it against yours. "keep it that way."

"well, apparently we have a doctor coming to help us, so i should make it," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"ah, yes," he hummed. "very promising."

he stretched his fingers again, pushing his arms back until he was able to nudge your hand with his. you didn't hesitate, straining to wrap your fingers around his and suddenly relaxing when the effort succeeded. he squeezed your hand twice, a silent gesture of comfort that went a surprisingly long way with you.

robin, still tied to the wall, was examining the room with purpose. she lit up, eyes catching on a very auspicious set of scissors. "hey guys?"

"yes, dear?" you said, turning your head so you could actually see the girl in question.

"do you see that table to your right?" she asked, nodding to what would actually be your left. you nodded as steve flopped his head to his left, eyes on the door and robin sighed, "your other right."

he looked at the table, nodding. "oh, yeah."

"see the scissors?" she said next, brows raised. "well, i think that if you move at the same you could get over there, stand up at the same time, and then grab them from behind and cut us all out. i mean, you'd have to stop holding hands, but i think it's plausible."

you looked away, a hot flush creeping up your neck as steve nodded.

"okay, yeah, we can do that," he agreed, craning his neck to glance at you and failing due to the angle. "we can totally do that. right?"

"yeah, we got this," you said, pulling your hands from his as you focused on the task at hand.

"at the same time," robin said again, glancing between you both. "or else you'll just fall over."

you nodded. "okay, on three we hop. your right, my left, got it?"

"yep, got it."

"one, two, three-"

you hopped, pushing the chairs up and scooting over just enough to give you hope.

robin let out a surprised laugh. "yes! okay, perfect! do it again."

you breathed out nervously. "one, two, three-"

another beautiful hop to the left.

steve laughed, hands knocking yours again in excitement. "this is great. we're actually gonna make it out of here."

"don't jinx us, harrington," robin warned at the same moment you counted off.

"one, two-"

steve, not paying attention to you, but to robin's just, pushed off too early, and you both crashed sideways to the floor. you grunted, letting out a pained breath at the same time he did.

"that's gonna bruise," you said quietly.

"you alright?" he asked, turning like he'd be able to see you.

"just great, stevie," you breathed out, surrendering your body to this new, lopsided position on the floor in favor of some sense of relaxation. "didn't think i was gonna die in a russian hideaway before my nineteenth, but here we are."

"i told you not to jinx us, harrington!" robin exclaimed, voice a little too quick and panicked for your liking. "shit, man. i can't believe i'm going to die with steve 'the hair' harrington and billy hargrove's twin sister. there's no way in hell this is how i die, if there is a god, then we will-"

"robin!" you shouted, "shut up! we're not going to die, i was being sarcastic, damn it. just let me think."

"let you think?" she echoed like you were an idiot. "we're all on the floor, all incapable of standing up or reaching anything of use, and those men are coming back with a doctor who is more likely to kill us than help us. what the hell are you gonna think up that-"

"robin, seriously," steve said sharply.

"what? have you been in worse situations?" she asked, eyes wide. "there is literally no chance we're making it out of here. i've never even dated anyone, i've never had my first kiss. my life is going to end before i'm even able to kiss someone and no one is going to know where or how we died and my mother is going to think i'm some perpetual failure who got herself killed being a junkie or something and-"

"robin!" you yelled again, letting out a stiff sigh as she stilled.

she breathed out an awkward laugh. "i'm sorry. i talk when i get nervous."

"we noticed," steve said dryly.

"look, i haven't been in worse situations, necessarily, but i've been in bad ones somewhat similar to this," you told her. "there's a way. just give me a second."

steve knitted his brows, fingers reaching for yours even if you weren't reaching back. "wait..." he said quietly, racking his brain for a time last year that you'd been in a position even close to this one. you hadn't. "are you serious? does billy-"

"not billy." your tone was sharp, direct, and your words terrified him beyond belief.

"i'm sorry," he said quietly. "i'm sorry for getting us into this, and for not protecting you. i should've-"

"it's not your fault, steve," you answered, letting out a sigh as you slumped against the floor. "there's nothing you could've done."

robin watched with wide eyes, trying to process exactly what you'd just said. "do you mean-?"

you sighed even heavier, meeting her eyes from your spot on the tile. "let's just say i learned how to take a punch early."

that simple statement hurt steve more than the russians had, and he quickly took your hands in his again, straining against the belts tying you both down. you let him, calming ever so slightly at the warmth of his skin.

"i'm sorry," steve whispered again, your heart jumping as he squeezed your hands.

"not your fault," you told him.

and then the doors busted open.

the guards returned, and so did the general, but they were accompanied by an intense-looking man in a white coat and leather apron. your eyes widened. "shit."

the general laughed loudly at the sight of you two on the floor, two soldiers yanking you upright again as the doctor readied some sort of blue serum into what looked like a white gun with a needle at the end.

"shit," you said again, straining against the belts.

"try to tell the truth this time," the general advised, grabbing steve by the hair and grinning down at him as the boy pulled away. "it'll make your visit with dr zharkov less painful."

"what is that?" steve demanded, eyes widening as the doctor brought the needle gun to you both. "no, no, what is that? don't - ah!"

by the time that dustin and erica rescued you, the truth serum had done its thing. in a fit of giggles, robin spontaneously admitted in the interrogation room that she liked girls (which didn't surprise you as much as you would've thought), and you started spewing nonsense about hopper coming in with the us cavalry to kick their asses with too wide of a smile. steve agreed with you, giggling about dustin and how he would save you guys - which he did.

"get ready to run," the kid said as he untied you and steve, erica working on robin's. the doctor who had kept sticking truth serum in your neck was electrocuted on the floor thanks to dustin's new deadly weapon that erica was complaining about using herself, and then he waved you guys up. "come on, come on!"

you ended up in the back of some miniature-van-looking thing, laid out on steve like it was normal for you both as you giggled with robin, then switching into the elevator that had started this whole adventure after dustin crashed into the wall.

you couldn't remember much, being drugged and all, but what you did remember was that steve didn't let go of you. not once. his arms were around your shoulders or his hand was clasping yours - either way, he was holding you, and tightly too.

even when dustin and erica sat you in theater seats, dragging robin to sit with them, he held your hand. and when you left to find water and had the ceiling start spinning enough to send you hurling in the restroom, his arm was around your shoulders.

well, until you had to part ways for separate stalls.

and that was what was on your mind about when you finally sobered enough to form a cohesive thought.

you know, after you puked your guts out in the women's restroom.

"the ceiling stopped spinning," you said, sitting up against the wall with a sigh. "how 'bout you?"

it was a beat before steve answered, breathing out, "holy shit. no, it's not. you think we puked it all up?"

you snorted. "they injected it into our bloodstream, dingus, that's not how it works." but then you paused. "maybe it's just worn off? i don't know. ask me something."

he hummed, deciding then that he wasn't gonna kick it off with an easy question.

"what you said when we were in the room..." he trailed off, working up the courage to ask what he'd been thinking about for hours before you got drugged and all. "what situations have you been in that were bad enough that you thought we'd be fine while captured by the russian military?"

you froze, heart tensing and beating harshly against your ribcage as you tried to catch your breath.

when you stayed silent for several moments, he let out a sigh, leaning down to glance at you under the stall. he kicked your foot. "i'm sorry, that was probably-"

"no, it's fine," you said quickly, shaking your head as you let out a trembling breath. "i think... i think it's good if you knew. you know enough anyways, it's just hard to say, you know?" you laughed dryly. "even max doesn't know the full extent of it."

"why?" he asked, knitting his brows.

"because, like i said, it's not billy," you admitted, shaking your head. "it's... it's my dad. and i didn't want to scare her more than she already was."

he was silent for a long few moments before his foot brushed yours again. "can i ask another question?"

"we're already here," you hummed, trying to make light of it all with a laugh, but he wasn't interested in jokes.

he was interested in honesty. "why do you defend him?"

you froze. in your mind, you didn't defend him. never once have you defended william hargrove, no, of course you haven't.

you're the one who takes max's hits for her and pushes him away from girls he's getting too close to and yells at him for being a dick. you're the one who swings back when he throws a hand your way, and makes fun of him for his dumb tank tops and idiotic tattoos.

but, you're also his twin. the one who brings him ice packs after he takes a particularly bad hit from your dad, who helped him buy that damn camaro he adored, who tells max to just try to be calm around him so he doesn't get pissed off, who gives him the benefit of the doubt when he yells just because you know your dad is harder on him than you.

you traced a line along one of the squares of the tiles, a slight furrow between your brows as you told him, "because he's my brother. and no matter how many times he yells or grabs my wrist too hard-" you could feel steve's anger through the stall door at the admissions. "i know what it feels like to go through what he has. and i still love him."

"what has he gone through that you haven't?" was his next, breathy question.

you smiled sadly, shrugging. "we have the same life basically. we're twins. his life has just hurt a little more."

that sat between you both heavier than you were comfortable with, and soon enough you were sitting straighter and clearing your throat.

"that was three questions, harrington, my turn," you said.

he chuckled dryly, bobbing his head in agreement. "alright, shoot."

you leaned your head against the wall, smiling gently, "are you still in love with nancy wheeler?"

his answer was quicker and surer than you could've expected. "no."

your brows raised, a small, hesitant smile pulling at your lips. "no? why not?"

"she's not right for me," he answered, this question way easier for him than his question had been for you. "i think i'd known that for a while, honestly. and then this other girl showed up in my life at just the same time it was all exploding, and things seemed all okay again. and she... she's a lot more right for me."

you hummed. for a second, you let yourself be hopeful that robin's dumb observations had some merit to them. "yeah?"

"yeah," he breathed out. "this girl... she's something different. she's brave, like, way braver than anyone else i know. and i know, we've seen nancy do some crazy shit, but her? she's always been brave. she's been brave her whole life and all of us are just seeing it now. she protects the people she loves without a second thought, it's like second nature, and there have been a few times that i've fallen into that circle, and i've never felt more appreciated and seen than then."

your heart pounded, a small smile pulling at your lips as you dropped your head to your knees.

"she's even good with the kids," he hummed.

you looked up even though you couldn't see him through the stall. "you're good with the kids," you answered, laughing lightly.

"yeah, not like her, though," he said. "they all love her. i've got henderson, maybe, but your sister? she could care less. i'm just the guy with the bat and the car."

you shook your head, smiling to yourself. "our family is good at faking it."

he sat on that for a beat, but it almost seemed to encourage him on, the boy clearing his throat and sitting straighter.

"you know what else about this girl? she's so funny, like this sarcastic little brat who never fails to make me laugh," he continued, and you could just hear the smile in his voice. "and when i'm with her, it's like impossible to feel bad. she just makes everything better." he paused, letting out a breath. "everything."

you smiled at the admission, tucking your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees.

the silence that sat between you two was light and heavy all at once, just like the air was lying in wait the same way you were.

several moments passed, and then steve was sliding under the stall, earning a scrunched nose from you as he came to rest on the wall opposite you.

"this floor is disgusting," you told him.

"well, i've already got blood and puke on my shirt, i think i'll be okay," he answered with a light laugh as he glanced down at his dumb sailor's uniform that somehow managed to still make him look good.

you just smiled small, chin still propped on your knees as he held your eyes intently.

"so..." he said. "what do you think?"

"about what?" you hummed, even though your heart was pounding and the only way to keep him from noticing your trembling, nervous hands was by clasping them tightly around your legs.

"this girl," he answered, holding your eyes still, a seriousness filling them that you weren't used to.

you cracked a small, teasing smile. "she sounds really cool."

"she's so cool," he agreed. "and what about the guy?"

that's when your eyes flicked away, that uncharacteristic uncertainty that always filled when it came to steve making your chest seize up. you messed with your fingers, clenching your hands into fists and then loosening them again.

steve reached forward, gently taking them in his and uncurling your fingers, threading them through his as your eyes accidentally met his, now trapped in the hazel depths. his voice softened as he asked again, "what about the guy?"

you sighed, trying at a smile. "i think the guy doesn't know what he's getting himself into," you told him quietly. "if he actually wants what he thinks he does."

"y/n-"

"i'm serious, steve," you told him, even as he scooted towards you, pulling your hands to his chest. he stopped, waiting for you to finish and you did with a heavy breath. "my family... it's complicated, and it'll only get more complicated if you get involved."

"i'm not worried about that," he answered, shaking his head.

"well, you should-"

"i'm worried about you," he finished, releasing one of your hands as he raised his to cup your cheek gently. you stopped, breath catching as he shifted even closer, brows knitting slightly as he searched your eyes. his voice dropped to a bit of a hush, admitting again, "i'm only worried about you. i don't care what happens to me, okay? because, damn it," he sighed, thumb running over your cheek. "i think i'm in love with you."

no sentence had ever affected you quite as much as this one had.

not when your mom told you she was leaving.

not when your dad announced you were moving.

not when billy yelled at your dad that he wished you'd been born with different parents.

because somehow, in some tiny, peculiar, mind blowing way, this sentence made all the rest of them feel less like a stab to your heart and more like a dull ache in your chest.

you didn't move, didn't think, just answered near instantly, "i'm in love with you too."

his eyes widened like he hadn't expected you to actually return his affections, and then he breathed out a laugh. "i would kiss you right now, but we both just puked our guts out."

you laughed with him, sitting up to lean closer. "yeah, i don't think our first kiss should be in a mall bathroom anyways."

"no," he chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled you into his chest.

you hugged him tightly, letting out a relieved breath as his arms wound even tighter around your waist. "thank you, steve."

"for what?" he mumbled, face tucked into your neck.

"for being stubborn enough to stick around, even when i wasn't making it easy," you answered.

he pulled back, meeting your eyes with a small smile. "you showed up at scoops at least three times a week for the whole summer. you made it easy enough."

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. "i guess i was a little obvious, huh?"

"not as obvious as me," he answered with a laugh. he squeezed your waist gently, "but, i appreciated it."

you both stared at each other for a few moments, steve tilting his head slightly as he just grinned at you.

"i hope you know i'm gonna kiss you so much when this is over and we finally can brush our teeth," he told you.

you laughed, pulling him into a hug again. "i'm counting on it, harrington."

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@nobody00sthings

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

“Hey.” Lucas’s soft voice cuts through the noise, his concern palpable. You whip your head up and see him standing by the door, unsure of what to do next. The state you're in must be alarming. Bags the size of Indiana under your eyes, clothes from the previous day still on, hair most likely knotted and frizzy from your restless hand playing with it. 

You clear your throat. “Hey.” Your voice is scratchy from not using it all day. It sounds like radio static. Oh god. Even when you're not there you're thinking about that goddamn radio station. Don't get it wrong, you like working with Robin and even sometimes Steve, but lately everything feels like a chore, no longer able to find joy in the little things. Not when Max isn't there to laugh about them with you at the end of the day. 

Standing up, you gather your coat in your shaky hands. The uneven legs of probably the most uncomfortable chair in the world bouncing against the floor. You sniffle as you throw your jacket on, realizing just how cold it is, throwing a glance at Max to ensure her blanket is covering her. While you're at it you check that her IV is in properly and you go over her stats, squinting at the numbers. Is a sixty two bpm normal? You'll have to ask the nurse. 

A hand on your shoulder startles you out of your thoughts. You glance to the left and catch Lucas's eyes. “Sorry," He drops his hand, shuffling his feet. “You know you don't have to leave right? You can always stay.” 

You start for the door, turning your head to give him what you hope is an assuring smile, though to him it looks more like a grimace. Opening the door you respond “I know. But you deserve your alone time with her.” Your beat up sneakers are halfway out the door when you hear him say one more thing. “See you tonight.” The crawl is what he's referring to. The current bane of your existence other than Steve, or you know, Vecna. While normally you would be glad to have something to do other than sit in the hospital or the radio station, doing nothing but working yourself up over things that, in the very dreary and scary bigger picture, are meaningless. But just because the end of the world is always rushing around the corner, your previous mental health issues don't just vanish. No, matter of fact they’re probably more active than ever. 

“See you.” The door closing behind you cuts off the beeping, making the busy hallway you step into seem quiet. You head for the nursing station, so deep in thought you don't notice the usual nurse rolling her eyes, no doubt preparing the answers to the onslaught of questions you throw at her after every visit. 

“No, I don't know when she'll wake up.” 

“Yes, her oxygen levels are normal.” 

“No, her heart rate isn't too slow as she is not moving. You know, ‘cause of the coma?”

You're also so deep in thought you don't catch the body barreling towards you, not until your path is disrupted by the impact. 

“Fuck-”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Totally my fault. I've got eyes right, why not use them- Oh, Hey!” Robin finally registers that it's you who's giving her the deadpan stare. She smiles the widest smile you've ever seen, and continues on her way. As she passes you she gives you a fast, clumsy hug from behind, not pausing as she turns to speak. “Remind me to tell you about one hell of a show you missed. Gotta run, I'll see you later!” She practically yells, not noticing the stares she gets.

You're flushed from embarrassment by the time she turns a corner, the eyes following her falling onto you as if you'll loudly explain why that woman is acting so weird. You make eye contact with a nurse you know all too well, and notice the serious stink eye she's throwing you. Fighting every fiber of your being, you decide to change route, heading towards the elevators instead. 

As the doors close, the tiny awkward smile you try to give all the spectators fades away, ice cold dread washing over your body. Time to head back to the station and it seems you're gonna be all alone with one Steve Harrington. 

Great. 

.

You’ll NEVER. GET. AWAY. from the sound of a woman that loves you.

♡

WEEK-IS-LONG-WEDNESDAY

Eddie doesn't sleep well when you’re not with him. Like a fish out of water, your boyfriend flops and flails around in bed, rolling over his bumpy sheets that still linger with your scent. But before he can even get comfy, it’s already time to start the day.

Son of a bitch.

“Alexa,” Eddie pleads. “Please postpone my cries until tomorrow.”

“Sorry — Eddie… I don’t understand what you meant by please postpone my life until tomorrow.”

“That too I guess.”

———

It’s awfully quiet at Hellfire.

Your friends seem to be protesting your unjust departure, keeping the essence of you alive by paying the Hellfire Girls no mind.

Meanwhile the witches who made you quit are celebrating your absence, laughing and leaning against the wall, entertaining themselves with their week-old gossip that was centered around you. Because without talking about ‘Shy Girl’, they wouldn’t be as interesting. To anyone.

"Yeah and she didn't even have the decency to give her two weeks," Kassidy scoffs. "Just up and left. How immature."

They got what they wanted. You were gone. Controlled, altered, deleted. 86’d, baby. But at what cost?

“Classic Baby Stripper. Can’t handle Hellfire’s heat.”

Now it's their turn to have the spotlight again. Just like old times. Although this time around, that attention is all negative.

But it’s attention, nonetheless.

Emmy and the other Hellfire Girls are seen squirming around, struggling to to reach for a prop that was placed high up on a shelf.

"Mike, I can't reach this thing, can you come get it for me?"

"Sorry, busy," Mike scoffs, shuffling angrily past them.

A couple of raised eyebrows. Okay then…

"Dustin, do you think you can-"

"No. Do it yourself," Dustin snaps.

Every appetizer they ordered from Argyle came out dry or burnt. Any toiletries needed from Nancy were handed over with minimal eye contact and assistance. Jonathan stopped serving them alcohol three peach schnapps ago, but of course those bitches were too busy faking their intoxication to even notice.

And despite everything, they were still appalled. Surely EDDIE wouldn’t approve of this blatant favoritism.

After putting out his cigarette, Eddie makes his way inside with the paperwork needed for your severance check, along with more checks for the club (and Wayne) that he didn’t even want to think about.

"OH EM GEE, HI EDDIE BEAR!" the girls squeal at him. It's their one last attempt to be smothered with love and affection from your boyfriend.

SLAM. The door to Ed's office swings shut.

Chrissy and Nina erupt in laughter, because even despite getting rid of you, Eddie still doesn’t give those girls the time of day.

“Eat shit, you cunts,” Nina chuckles, shaking her head in satisfaction.

While it was obvious whose side The Party is on, the Hellfire Girls are STILL left distraught and confused.

"Do you guys...” Kassidy says. “…kinda get the vibe that everyone seems a bit pissed off today?"

THANKFUL-THURSDAY

"Thank you, come again!"

You had just finished making your 20th peppermint mocha of the morning. And to think you’re going to be here ‘til close…

Being a waitress and barista are two completely different ball parks, something you wish you knew before Steve got you the job at Newby’s not too long ago.

Syrups. Sauces. Coffee beans from robusta to arabica. The just-as-caffeinated juices that would taste a lot better with alcohol in them...

And the damn milks. God forbid you use soy milk instead of almond, otherwise Susan Swayne from the Hawkins Neighborhood Watch Committee will throw a hissy fit for everyone with a satellite dish to see. And you’d much rather not want to end up going viral on Reddit — again.

Sigh.

You’re whisking away at a matcha when you realize that a group of corporate Chads were looking at you for way too long. Your paranoid eyes scan the scene, heart nearly dropping to your stomach as you lean your body into Steve’s for comfort.

"People are staring at me," you report to him at a low whisper.

Harrington is right beside you, wiping the counter down with a wet cloth after spilling some half and half on it. Your new colleague glances over at them before giving you an earnest look of reassurance.

“They probably just have a staring problem,” he says. “New pretty face at a local coffee shop? Of course they’re gonna look at you.”

“I’m almost certain I gave one of them a dance.”

“You’re also making them a coffee,” he points out. “How many people can say that about their dancers? They should be grateful.”

It makes you less stressed knowing you have a male coworker by your side, and that your job predominantly takes place in broad daylight. Your stress is further alleviated when you see Max shuffle back in through the side door after her 15-minute juul break in the parking lot. She gives you a tense nod hello after exhaling a small cloud of 'Wild Raspberry Bubblegum' into the room.

“Back from your break?” you mumble rhetorically, avoiding direct eye contact with her.

“Yeah. I am.”

You and Max got into a fight earlier this morning. It was over something stupid, your first real fight since she found out you were stripping on the low. You’re stunned when she wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind, causing you to hum in endearment. Dearest Maxine…your baby sister.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Max apologizes. "I'm not me when I go without smoking for too long."

"I forgive you," you hug her back. "Thank you for communicating your feelings. Wanna help me with this in-house order?”

“Of course.”

Since your whole lives were spent constantly losing people on such short notice, you, Max, and Billy have made it a goal to never go to bed angry. You all follow through with it 90-percent of the time, which is huge considering your dynamic. You never want to end the day on bad terms with anyone. With how the world operates nowadays, you just never know.

“You guys make coffee for non-heroes?”

And you weren’t going to start the day mad either. To your surprise, your gaze is met with Eddie’s when you turn around. Your boyfriend beams over at you with eager eyes, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he waits to order.

“EDDIE!” you exclaim.

Mister-Leather-and-Denim greets you with his signature dimpled smile. "Hi, sweetie."

You practically leap over the counter to give your man a tight squeeze. He chuckles into you, his cool rings lightly pressing against your back during your embrace.

“Eddie...” you coo. “You came to see me!”

“I sure did,” your man sings as he goes to put you down. “Ohh my goodness… Look at you with your little barista apron! Do a little spin for me.”

You spin. Eddie hoots in adoration.

“Now do a little pose.”

You pose.

“One more turn for me, baby…all the way, all the way, all the way…” he instructs. Suddenly, his palm issues you a rough smack across the ass. “BOOM! There we go. Now we’re talkin’!”

“Hey hey hey, let’s keep it PG,” Harrington scolds him. “Bob watches the cameras when he’s not here.”

“Then Bob should know Eddie’s hands are rated E for everybody,” Eddie tuts, slyly clicking his tongue at Steve. “Didn’t think I’d miss YOU now did you, Big Boy? C’MERE!”

Eddie scurries towards Steve to give him his as well. Smack. Almost like it’s muscle memory.

Max shakes her head in amusement as watches their tomfoolery unfold in front of her. She always used to think you were exaggerating their 'bromance', but now her doubts have been debunked.

“Need some caffeine to kickstart your heart today?” she asks your boyfriend.

“Not particularly, since your sister’s in front of me,” Eddie replies, chuckling at his own cheesy joke. But then he hands her a 20. “I’ll take a cold brew though. Change is yours to keep.”

“My hero, my hero,” Max hums. You watch as she opens the register to acquire the difference.

Your sister starts on Eddie’s drink while you two spend some time together. Out of habit, you fiddle with his hair and then lovingly stroke his face, all while Eddie scans the room around him, his curious fingers dancing over to the plastic tip jar next to the pastries behind you.

“How much for the trail mix?” he comments.

“Ha-ha,” you respond to him dryly.

“Baby you could make this much in tips in a second at Hellfire.”

“I’m not going back,” you respond with certainty.

Eddie’s face drops when he realizes how serious you sound. Tucking his hands back into the pockets, Mr. Tough guy elicits a rather child-like pout.

“But everybody misses you.”

“Not everybody.”

“Everybody who matters,” he corrects himself.

“That’s sweet,” you admit. “But we’ll all still hang out, y’know? I just...really wanna keep our work-life shit separate.”

“I understand, baby,” Eddie frowns. “I just miss your face is all.”

It was a shitty situation those girls put you and Eddie in. But now that you’ve had time to think about it, you don’t need Hellfire anymore. Stripping has rocket-launched you out of debt; and now that you’re comfortably on your feet, with everything you could possibly want and more, you see no need in having a hustle mentality anymore. And besides, everyone and Eddie knew that to you, Hellfire was only temporary.

“I miss you too,” you assure Eddie. “But I'm out of that cacoon now and spreading my wings. Thanks to you. We can celebrate off the clock."

“Now I like the sound of that," Eddie smirks as he pulls you into him again. He gives you another, rather tight, squeeze followed by a delicate forehead kiss. "So amazing to hear, sweetheart. I’m so happy for you.”

FACE-THE-TRUTH FRIDAY

“You’re upset.”

It’s an assumption that irritates the shit out of Eddie. Jane watches your boyfriend as he frantically ushers himself around, stress-cleaning everything at POTIONS while Jonathan takes his lunch. For as long as she's been here, it's been observed that the only thing Eddie seems to be running on today is a hot chip, and yet another cold brew from Newby’s that you had made for him.

“I’m not upset, Eleven.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m NOT,” Eddie insists. “Shy Girl and I are doing great, thank you very much.”

But the psych major doesn’t believe it one bit. Setting the pencil she was twiddling down onto her notebook, Jane narrows her eyes.

“Wanna know how I know you’re lying?”

“Hit me.”

“I never once mentioned Hargrove’s name.”

Caught. Red-handed. A sucker-punch to the ego. Eddie’s cheeks flush an exposed shade of pink, having been read to filth by the girl he and Steve used take turns babysitting when she was a little kid.

“And boys always lie,” ‘Eleven’ tuts. Jane starts to dismantle her waffle fries as if they were pieces of pull-apart bread. She then shoves the Eggo-shaped taters into her mouth. “‘s like it’s in their blood.”

“Girls lie too,” Eddie scoffs.

“But they lie better.”

Eddie pretends to dismiss it, waving Jim and Joyce’s daughter off so she could go with Mike who has probably forgotten to take inventory yet again. But when she doesn’t, and insists on playing therapist, Eddie can’t help but wonder what Jane and Wheeler could possibly be fighting about now.

“Don’t start your relationship off with a lie,” Eleven forewarns. “I can tell you really like Shy Girl. And if that’s the case, I assume you trust her enough to be honest with her.”

"I am honest with her."

“Bullshit.”

He peers back over at Jane.

Eddie’s assets — at this point — have now become a liability. And it was YOU who had to pay the price.

But he knew he still had to be realistic. There was no way in hell that he could spoil you, take you out, buy you nice things, and introduce you to new experiences if his business is in shambles. He needed his dancers.

"If you can’t get rid of those girls, you at least owe Shy Girl the truth,” Jane points out. She finds herself leaning across the bar. "And the truth is... you’re upset about her quitting.”

Eddie shrugs, choosing to gloss over how he really feels in hopes of getting a second opinion. “But I don’t know why I’d be upset. She’s doing what’s best for her.”

But Eleven clears him immediately.

“Because your abandonment issues tell you she gave up too easily,” She shoves another waffle fry into her mouth. “therefore she didn’t fight hard enough for your relationship.”

Man.

“Otherwise, you two would’ve found a compromise by now,” Eleven keeps going. “Meaning she would’ve stayed. Could’ve stayed.”

She pauses for the dramatics while Eddie uncomfortably clears his throat.

“Should’ve stayed," she finishes.

Bingo. It’s like Eleven found a way to invade Eddie’s mind somehow. Disgusted with himself, it also dawns on him that although the kids are much older now, they’re still sponges. That means they can still read into him and everyone else, even more than they could’ve when they were only 12. And this time around, there’s no filter when it happens. It’s a scary thought.

“I liked you better homeschooled.”

SHRUG-IT-OFF SATURDAY

It’s D&D night at Jeff’s house and you’re in charge of food prep. But you really don't see the point in it anymore, considering bank heist campaigns are way more interesting than the messy charcuterie board in front of you.

"I can't believe tonight will go down as the Craigslist Campaign," Max remarks. "That's where Eddie found these guys, right?"

"It's where Gareth found them," you correct her. "I hope they all get along, though. Campaigns are huge for Eddie."

You watch your boyfriend from the kitchen as he does his thing, kneeling on the wooden table as he prefaces the campaign with an introductory monologue. It all makes you swoon. Eddie is just so animated. It's in the dramatic changes in his voice depending on who he's imitating. His theatrical jazz hands. His extremely detailed, and lucid story-telling that slips so naturally off his tongue.

Eddie Munson knows how to put on a show. As a performer yourself, you can appreciate watching his universes come to life. This is a look into Eddie's mind. His world. His safe space. And he appears to be having a lot of fun with it.

Your lip curls involuntarily. A little too much fun, you think to yourself…shamefully, spitefully.

“You’re not mad at Eddie, are you?”

You look at your sister like she's crazy. Max knows you and your micro-expressions like the back of her hand. Wasn't really a hobby she picked up per se, but more of a survival tactic. It makes you second guess yourself. Surely you didn't make yourself that obvious, did you? But even then, you're not even that bitter about it. So why are you physically reluctant in giving an answer that your brain is so sure of?

“No,” you shake your head. “Why would I be mad?”

“He barely did anything to defend you from those girls,” Max points out. “You’re his girlfriend and what do they get? A slap on the wrist for all of the shit they've done? It’s unfair!”

You silently return to your edible arrangement, putting the grapes next to the cheeses and away from the deli meats so that Gareth doesn't get 'the ick'. Then you grab a wine glass to make a rose shape out of said deli meats. Max doesn't back down.

"It's okay if you're upset," she tries again.

"I'm not upset, Max."

"You're lying."

"Am not!" You quickly jump to defend Eddie. "I genuinely think, and know, that Eddie's a keep-the-peace kind of guy. Besides, Hellfire would've been in jeopardy if he fired those girls."

"Hellfire would've been in jeopardy if Billy pressed those charges."

You think about the fight more often than you would like. It was the only time you've truly seen Eddie out of character.

"But that's different. Billy pushed all the right buttons. I know Eddie. He's not as manic as people paint him out to be."

And as if it were a joke, the Universe uses this impeccable timing to launch you into a panic. Soon the sound of shattered glass and moving chairs fill the room, and when you whip your head over to the sound of the commotion, you're stunned to see your man lunging at one of the strangers that were sat at Jeff's dinner table.

"EDDIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" someone yelps.

"You wanna say that shit again?" Eddie demands. "Huh, do you?"

"What the actual fuck," Max breathes out with her hand clutched to her chest. "That came out of nowhere."

"Disrespecting my fucking friend in his own fucking house?!" he gives the guy another violent rattle. "Huh?!"

You're unsure whether to intervene or not, but the guys seem to have it managed so you just stay put in the kitchen. From what you gathered, the guy said something rude to Jeff, making fun of his class and level and using his character skin as a reason for being inferior to him. But clearly, he was still no match for the Dungeon Master.

Eddie shakes his head in pity.

"Classic fucking bard," Eddie spits. "All that talk and all that charisma, but you're still FUCKING WEAK in battle."

"Hurtful..." Dustin, whose also a bard, whimpers.

"Wasn't talking about you, Henderson," Eddie huffs.

Then who was Eddie talking about? Because according to the look on everyone's faces, his rage didn't align with the severity of the issue at hand. The guy did seem condescending and patronizing when you met him, but all he did was poke fun at Jeff. Something the Hellfire boys already do with one another.

Eddie's outburst is enough to end the campaign early, and the guys who allegedly violated Jeff that badly left without a cue. As everyone cleans up after themselves, Gareth locates all the drinks that Eddie has downed tonight and confiscates them. You remember the time Eddie told you drinking makes him feel gross. Makes him act gross too, apparently.

"Eddie, what the fuck, man? Where did that rage even come from?"

"Dude was cocky as hell," Eddie shakes his head at Gareth. "They can act stupid about it, but I see all the underlying shit. They knew what they were doing."

Suddenly your ears perk up. If you had been the one to say that, you could easily appoint those very sentences to the situation with the Hellfire Girls. The burning in your chest is undeniable now. Of course that's how shit starts to feel when it gets personal.

"No one bullies my boys and gets away with it," Eddie says. "They can get out and stay out."

Max looks back over at you, just as distraught. Then she says exactly what you were thinking but were far too afraid to admit. "Where was that energy when you were at Hellfire?"

You and Eddie go to different bathrooms to collect yourselves, both for entirely different reasons. Seeing Eddie that distressed over something so small really had you wondering if he was upset about something else as well. But then you start getting upset at yourself for not putting your concerns first. And this concern was a huge one. He can do that with his boys but not with you?

“Oh my god,” it dawns on you. “I guess I am disappointed in Eddie.”

And then, from the other side of the house, in Jeff's bathroom, it dawns on Eddie too as he sobers up.

“Oh my god. I guess I am upset with Hargrove.”

SUCKER-PUNCH SUNDAY

“You’re early, babe,” you remark.

Little did you know Eddie would’ve been at your door even earlier, had he not been rehearsing what to say in his van...and doom-scrolling the internet for the past hour.

“Just didn’t wanna be late!” is what he comes up with.

You greet him with a kiss shortly before allowing him into the home. Max is working today while Robin and Vicky were out running errands. This left you both plenty of time to hash things out if needed, both in the living room and the bedroom (if it applies).

C'mon, Hargrove, you urge yourself. Just say it.

"Listen..." you both say at once.

You both pause, glancing over at one another in surprise.

"What are you about to say?" you ask him.

"What are YOU..." he counters. "about to say?"

"You go."

"No no," he deflects. "Ladies first, I insist."

You hate that he's a gentleman sometimes. Out of the many situations where you had to rip the band-aid off, somehow this was the hardest one. After swallowing hard one last time, you finally come out and say it.

"I'm..." you begin. "I've been thinking all week. And... I guess am upset with how shit ended with Hellfire."

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god, you too?"

Suddenly, the air seems breathable again. You and Eddie both sigh in relief which then extorts a chuckle out of the two of you. At last, you two seem to be on the same page about this minor discrepancy.

"I've been losing sleep over it all week."

"I've been stress-cleaning trying to think of how to come to you about it!"

"Oh my god..." Eddie laughs.

"This is crazy!" you exclaim.

"I forgive you," the two of you say simultaneously.

Your eyes widen simultaneously as well.

"Wait, what?" you echo one another again.

"What do you mean you forgive me?" you hiss. "I should be the one forgiving you, not the other way around."

"Well... you kinda left me in a crummy spot... leaving Hellfire so soon?" Eddie argues. "And you were almost everybody's favorite dancer too. Outside of Chrissy."

"You left me in a crummy spot!" you place your hands on your hips. "By refusing to fire the dancers who made my life a living hell. The bullying wouldn't stop until I quit and you just let that happen."

"Okay first of all, you chose to quit," Eddie snaps. Anger starts to simmer within you. "After I begged you time and time again not to. And you were the one who told me not to get rid of the dancers because it would've been easier to just get rid of you, the one."

"I still expected you to give them some harsh ass consequences!" you exclaim. "And what do you mean I didn't fight hard enough for you? You shouldn't have to make me fight in the first place."

"You know what I mean," Eddie huffs. "And expected? I can't read your mind, Hargrove! How was I supposed to know what to do?"

How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to know? Not reassuring at all coming from a business owner and manager. And the gag is Eddie sure knew what to do last night, when something similar happened to his homeboys.

"You literally kicked those dudes out last night for bullying Jeff. At the drop of a hat. But you couldn't do with the girls the same way?"

"Those Craigslist dudes don't pay the BILLS, sweetheart," Eddie emphasizes. "Had they been responsible for my paycheck, I may have approached it differently."

"I don't care anymore!" you exclaim. "Paycheck this, paycheck that. It's the principle of it, Eddie! The girls bullied me and all you did was slap them on the wrist. I expected you to do more."

"There it is again, 'expected'! I'm a simple guy, babe. I can't read you like a puzzle! Say what's on your mind. Why do you have so much trouble speaking up?"

"I shouldn't have to hold your hand through something so simple though. Forget that I'm your girlfriend for just a minute. You should've fired them when you realized they were sabotaging another dancer. And whose to say this was their first time doing it? What if they did it with Isabelle too?"

"Don't talk about Isabelle!" Eddie snaps at you. "You don't know anything that happened with her."

"Oh so now you're defending your ex wife too? OVER ME? Your actual, current girlfriend?! It's just anyone but me at this point. WHY AM I THE LAST PRIORITY? IT'S MY RELATIONSHIP."

"IT'S MY RELATIONSHIP TOO!"

"You don't seem to be fighting for it!"

"You're one to talk! You're the one who left when it got hard."

"I don't leave when shit gets hard," you argue. "I leave when shit doesn't change. When shit becomes toxic."

You did it with your last relationship. You did it when you and Max left Billy. You did it with Hellfire when the torment wouldn't stop. And you might as well do it again with Eddie, if nothing changes.

"You know what apologies without change is?" you grumble. "It's manipulation."

"Oh, so I'm a manipulator now?!" Eddie questions. "I did EVERYTHING you told me to do, but now I'm still a manipulator?!"

"Birds of a feather," you huff angrily. "Living up to the Munson name, huh?"

"That's not fair, baby."

"It is."

"NO, IT'S NOT!" Eddie booms. "How would you feel if I told you that you were living up to the Hargrove name? By blowing shit out of proportion when it doesn't even need to be like that?"

"DOESN'T NEED TO BE LIKE THAT?" you shout. "DOESN'T NEED TO BE LIKE THAT? THOSE BITCHES RUINED ME, PUT SUGAR IN MY GAS TANK, AND YOU'RE ACCUSING ME OF READING TOO MUCH INTO IT?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

"I'd like to put something in your mouth, that's for sure."

"Kinky," Eddie says smartly.

"That's all your mind travels to, is sex isn't it?! No wonder you keep those sluts around."

You and Eddie continue to argue back and forth, the volume of your voices gradually getting louder. Eventually, you grow overwhelmed, and the only thing that will calm you down is a good ol' scream.

Just like a banshee, a high-pitched scream rips through the house.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

You throw a nearby plastic cup at the wall, you're so angry and overstimulated.

"The hell was that?" Eddie questions. A laugh tugs at the corner of his mouth. For a minute, he looks like Billy when he gets a reaction out of you. That really sets you off.

Now you're out for blood. Out for the very thing, every Hargrove wants: the last word. He's right. You are living up to the Hargrove name. But why does it feel so good?

Unable to control yourself, your palms land across Eddie's chest and you shove him into the wall, causing Eddie to short circuit in shock. His face drains to a pale white. Now suddenly, you're Billy. And Eddie is you, looking at you the way you would look at your brother whenever he screamed or punched a wall.

Now Eddie's angry too. As much as he wants to get you back, it's still natural for him to physically refrain himself from doing so. Eddie Munson does not hit women. Wayne raised him better than that.

So instead, he settles for a verbal jab.

“You’re crazy. What is wrong with you, Hargrove?"

It's the damned C word that no enraged woman wants to hear. But now that you've heard it, there's no turning back. You're done with him.

"Get out," you order him.

"Fine," Eddie mutters. "Fine, I'm off to Wayne's anyway!" You stomp after Eddie as he starts making his way towards your door. "He's the only fucking person who seems to understand me."

The two of you share one final look before he heads out.

You hate that it has to end this way, because the devastated demeanor in his beady, brown eyes share that same sentiment. The sorrow is unspoken, but universal. Just as the love and yearning is, even when your words display a lack thereof.

"So you're gonna leave me?" Eddie gulps. "You're gonna leave me, huh? Just like everyone else does?"

You shake your head bitterly. If there's anything about you that you love/hate, it's that you always stand on your business. "Don't worry. Plenty of other bitches in the sea for you."

The final blow to Eddie's chest. Normally Eddie would've been able to recover from that... would've been able to leave the argument untouched after hearing those words... had it not been for you, the only person he truly sees himself with. The only person he would look for in a sea of people.

"I really thought you were different, Shy Girl," Eddie shakes his head. "That's what I get for hiring someone who doesn't understand what the industry can be like."

That's what he hits you with? Just then, the sadness is replaced by resentment entirely.

"I HATE YOU, Eddie Munson," you grimace. "I never want to see your face again."