#oops sorry

steve thought when you all met up at that abandoned gas station, it would all be over. maybe that’s because he expected everyone to be there.

he was panicked the second he didn’t see who he was looking for.

“she’s not here.” he’d said, trying to keep calm. but how could he when you weren’t there?

“who’s not here?” it was jonathan that had asked, panicked. because everyone was there. was someone missing? had he miscounted?

“my sister. she’s not here.”

the most of them paused. well, the party paused. of course joyce knew, because joyce seemed to know most of the kids in town. she seemed to have interacted with most of them at some point or another. hopper knew everyone in town period, and jonathan, nancy and steve had spent quite some time together. of course those two knew about his baby sister. and robin—robin was his best friend, obviously he’d mentioned you to her a couple times.

there was a reason the party specifically wasn’t aware.

“your what?” steve honestly wasn’t sure who asked that, because there was a collection of voices all talking over each other. steve harrington has a sister? steve harrington has family?

“oh, steve. your angel?”

steve had nodded, frantic now. they knew who you were and you still weren’t there. which means you really weren’t around. nancy’s tone had been pitiful, hopeless, even. everyone knew steve loved his sister more than life itself.

“i told her to meet here. swear i did. i didnt even—i couldn’t even say a proper goodbye.”

his poor angel. he’d instructed you on exactly where to go, and you assured him you’d figure it out. he was in a rush. god, if only he’d spared a minute more. now you were…

“hey, she’s okay. she’s fine, steve. she’s strong.” hopper’s met you a few times. not that you’d get into much trouble or anything, but you did have your moments.

“angel harrington? did she go to our school?” dustin had wondered aloud. max smacked him.

“dumbass. she’s probably not even our age. we would’ve met her. and i’ve never even heard of an angel harrington.”

mike had rolled his eyes. that goddamned wheeler kid.

“sure. like you knew everyone at school, max. you were barely even there.”

the kids continued to bicker. not that they were much of kids anymore. they were mostly 18 and 19. could never seem to catch a break.

joyce had patted steve on the back, but he’d barely felt it. all he felt was numb. his sister. his baby. gone.

“she’s okay. do you really think some apocalypse could take out a harrington?”

it’s more than an apocalypse. it’s the end of the world as they know it.

“she’s not like me. she’s—she’s soft. and she’s little, she’s their age,” he’d said, thumb jutting towards the party. that made them pause.

“and she’s not even my blood. we’re different, ms byers.”

joyce had continued to comfort steve. she’d tried.

“i know. but i see that same fire in her that i do in you. you’re a lot more similar than you think.”

steve had barely known joyce at that point. clearly you’d known her better than he had. she’d seemed quite sure of herself, but maybe she was stretching the truth. he’d never know unless you told him. would you ever get the chance to?

“she is okay. i see her.”

eleven—er—jane doesn’t talk much. when she does, steve has learned to take it seriously. god forbid a man has hope.

maybe steve was an idiot for listening, but he’d take anything solid to believe you’re alive at this point. so yeah, he’d humored the whole superpower blindfold thing. and maybe he felt a little stupid believing in all of it, listening to eleven swear up and down that she’d heard a voice, that she’d seen you. her being able to describe you did help her credibility, though.

“the best thing to do is wait here for now. if this is where you told her to meet, she might still be looking.”

which is a great idea, honest. it’s not his fault he fucking hates it. it’s stupid, whatever, but he wants to scour every last acre of the forest until he finds you. he has to find you, if not just to convince himself that he’s not crazy for thinking maybe you’re alive. maybe you’re not as soft as he thinks you are, but he’s always naturally placed you inside a box. naturally tried to protect you. naturally tried to keep you under the radar.

by now, night has settled over the dim gas station signs. steve can’t fall asleep. how could he? you’re out there somewhere, alone and probably scared. maybe dead. what if you come banging on the door while he’s asleep? what if nobody gets up? he can’t go to sleep, he can’t—

“steve, lay down.”

he’s shaking. someone has taken hold of his shoulder. his eyes slit open. nancy, with that concerned look on her face she always used to give him in high school with her eyebrows all furrowed. jonathan behind her, equally concerned. but jonathan always looks sort of like a lost puppy.

the both of them look exhausted. he’s sure they all do.

“leave him. he’s waiting for her.” it’s robin, he thinks. it’s hard to tell through bleary eyes, but he recognize her voice anywhere.

when steve blinks awake again, it’s lighter outside. his stomach drops. fuck, he fell asleep. he glances around frequently, looking for anyone that’s awake. anyone that would know if you were outside at any time during the night. he only comes up with max and will, sitting beside him on either side.

“you…okay?” it’s the most concerned he’s ever seen max, and he’s seen her through a lot.

steve scrubs his face with his hands. fuck. now the kids are worried.

“fine. just…tired.”

she rolls her eyes.

“right. that’s totally how i react when i’m tired.”

steve almost rolls his eyes at her sass, but he can’t even find the energy.

“she’s gonna be okay,”

its will. of course it is. god, he’s so much like his mother, and steve’s never really realized it. he’s never really had a point of reference until recently.

steve isn’t sure he says anything. he can’t really remember. he looks up at nothing.

“will you tell us about her?”

steve knows well enough what will is doing. hell, steve’s done it with max before when billy died, even though he knew billy very well. sometimes it just helps to remember.

he takes a deep breath.

honestly, dustin just couldn’t help himself. mike knew that, of course. dustin couldn’t help himself when it came to a lot of things. that’s why someone in the party was always there to help him. today, it happened to be mike.

he brushes past a tree branch that almost manages to take him out.

how did mike get himself into this one?

“we’re going to get lost. or eaten.”

he can imagine dustin shakes his head. he would be able to see it for himself if he were not so dizzy that he couldn’t hardly breathe. but imagination is good enough, he guesses.

“oh, puh-lease, micheal. don’t be a baby. just say you’re scared.”

mike feels a pang of irritation rise in his chest.

“shut the hell up. i’m not scared. i’m just…wary. you know, like any normal person would be?”

he trips over a root. it really ruins the dramatic effect. luckily dustin is ahead of him and definitely doesn’t see the little stumble.

dustin’s seen worse, though, indefinitely. when you grow up with someone, especially when that growing up starts at about 12 years old, you’re bound to see some pretty insane shit. dustin’s seen plenty.

“that’s what a scaredy cat would say. i bet we’re almost there.”

and god, it’s like they’re kids again. not 19 and struggling to survive in this post apocalyptic world. and to think, they’d all thought the upside down was the worst to come.

they stop at a sort of clearing. it’s grassy, not just roots and an endless array of branches. mike stops to pick up a rock, something they can use as another marker. they aren’t exactly supposed to be out here, so they have to make sure they get back safely. literally everyone will kill them if they don’t.

“dustin, what are you even expecting to find—“

his voice dies in his throat. shit.

“dustin? dustin—“

nothing. nobody. nowhere. deserted, without a single fucking sound.

mike feels a sharp prick against his throat. he doesn’t dare look down.

“don’t move.”

fuck.

“you made her sound like a child, dingus. she sounds like she was beating you up as a kid.”

of course robin would poke fun at him. of course robin would be the one to make him laugh in such a tragic time.

“i mean, she is a child. she’s still a baby to me.”

he’s told them countless stories, enough that the sun’s come up. people are up and moving around by now, but a couple are crowded around him, like they knew you personally. like they knew you even half as well as he does.

“but she’s 18, steve. and she sounds badass. i’m sure she’s holding her own.”

a comforting hand on his shoulder. it’s not the touch, but the words that help. you are kind of badass, even if you’re a couple years younger than him. even if when he first met you you would cry and cry and hold onto him like a lifeline. he’s the only one that remembers that version of you. it’s the only version he can visualize of you right now. but he needs to have faith in you, he supposes. you did accidentally give him a bloody nose when you were in seventh grade.

talking about you has made him feel a little better. all those little memories, cotton candy at the fair and sunday morning cartoons and you eavesdropping on him and whatever girl he was talking to that month in high school. some of the most fun he’s ever had, even if that’s lame for him as an older brother to admit. he’s never been ashamed of you, and it won’t start today.

a banging on the gas station door startles everyone. steve isn’t the only one to flinch this time.

it’s dustin, pounding on the door.

he’s out of breath, stumbling, and sweaty.

it’s almost impossible to make out what he’s saying.

hopper shakes his shoulders.

“spit it out, kid! what is it?”

dustin barely takes a breath in.

“i lost mike.”

@hisforher