stobin soulmate supremacy

"They're being controlled by the Mind Flayer. We were attacked by one last night," Steve explained. He wasn't sure how much Nancy was going to be able to glean from his disjointed explanation-- But she had read enough of his college essays to understand the complicated logic of his mind, so it might be enough. "They're already dead, so you can't kill them. You have take the head off." 

She shifted, bringing her gun up as Billy drew ever closer. Her finger stayed off the trigger, though, a last moment of hesitation. "Is-- Is Hargrove still in there?" 

"I don't think so," Steve said, grimly. Billy Hargrove's death wouldn't exactly be a loss for society, but Steve spared a moment to regret how difficult Max's life was about to become, and how this might further effect the little town that had already lost so much. He just hoped no one got the bright idea to put Billy's photo up next to Barb's at the high school-- That, Steve might have to take affront to. 

Not that it was enough to make Steve stop. Even if Billy had still been in there, somewhere, it wouldn't have made him put on the brakes. Nancy would understand that, though-- She had emptied enough bullets into Billy's chest before Steve had even shown up to explain. He met her eyes, briefly, and a moment of understanding passed between them. 

This was all just formality, a pleasant excuse for the things they would have to do. 

"There are more behind us," Steve warned her, as her finger found the trigger. He wasn't sure if the sound of gunfire would draw the loose swarm in the parking lot towards them or not, but Nancy would be better served watching their backs anyway. "A lot more. Just keep them back until I can deal with Bi-- With the zombie." 

Not that Steve had any fucking idea how to fight Billy. Or any of the zombies, really. The one he and Robin had killed in the lab had been more of a fluke than anything, and there had been two of them then. Steve stepped to Eddie's side, and Dustin, for once showing a little self-preservation, scurried behind the mini-van with Jonathan.

"Okay," Steve muttered under his breath to Eddie. The only indication the Blutbad heard him was the twitch of his pointed ears, but that was more than enough for Steve. "What we're going to do is--" 

A clattering noise from the theatre cut Steve's plan off early, and he watched in horror as zombies began to pour out of the ruined theater doors. Robin made a weird squeaking noise, almost a scream, but her woge settled over her quickly. Eddie's growl rose, loud enough that even Steve couldn't hear Nancy's frantic cursing. 

They were going to have to get very good at this, very quickly. 

The new zombies were warped in a way Steve didn't want to think about too closely. Billy, ignoring the bullet holes sluggishly bleeding into his shirt, had only looked sick-- Like he'd just pulled himself out of bed during a nasty case of the flu. These zombies looked dead, really dead, and their faces had begun to droop. One of them snarled weakly, bottom lip falling open to reveal cracked and broken teeth. 

"Dibs on Hargrove," Steve said, eventually. "Keep the others off my back?" 

Robin nodded, but Eddie still stood, unmoving, eyes locked on Billy. 

Steve pressed his arm gently into Eddie's, keeping his hands carefully free of Eddie's claws. "Hey. I get it, man, I really do. But me and Billy have unfinished business and-- You asked me to let you help, and this is what I need, okay?" Eddie's eyes flickered away from Billy's for just a moment, meeting Steve's in the corner of his eye, before shooting back to the other zombies pouring onto the sidewalk. 

That was all the agreement Steve was likely to get. That would have to be enough. 

"If you're still in there somewhere, Hargrove," Steve said, stepping forward. "I wish I could say I was sorry about this." 

Billy lunged. 

It was only thanks to Steve's improved reflexes that he managed to dodge in time. He could feel Billy's bloody nails graze against Hopper's sweatshirt, the sound echoing in Steve's ears. Billy stumbled, too much momentum built up for his stiff, dead muscles and Steve leapt on the opportunity. It was easy to kick backwards, his heel finding the the back of Billy's knee-- The bone snapped too easily under Steve's weight. Steve winced at the brittle crack of it, imagining how sick and decayed Billy must be inside. However 'fresh' he looked, it was no surprise that death was not treating him kindly. He turned to watch the zombie collapse to the sidewalk with a hint of pity. 

Of course, Steve had no idea that a broken kneecap was going to keep Billy down. If he could walk off a dozen bullet wounds, walking on a shattered knee would be light work. Hell, Steve thought with enough motivation that even he could do it, and he'd barely made it through the one bullet. Not for the first time, Steve wished he'd had the presence of mind to bring his bat with him when they'd confronted Ritter. Sure, they probably would have taken it away from him, or left it behind for Eddie to find later, but he ached to feel the warn, familiar wood in his hands. 

Sure, baseball bats, no matter how modified, weren't exactly the best weapons to take down a zombie with, but eventually everything stopped moving once sufficently squished. Besides, anything was better than trying to take one down with his bare hands. 

He watched Billy struggle to his hands and knees, his mind relishing all the angles he could knock that stupid mullet clear off his body if only he had the proper weapon. Maybe he was taking a little too much joy out of finally having the upperhand over Hargrove, but could you blame him? The man had concussed him with a dinner plate; If anyone deserved a baseball bat to the head, it was his decaying, shambling corpse. 

"Fuck," Robin said, from somewhere behind him. Steve glanced at Billy, who was slowly getting to his knees, and then turned to peek at Robin over his shoulder. She wasn't doing terribly, although obviously relying on her instincts rather than any real knowledge of her body. Steve watched her claws dig into a random zombie's side and was momentarily jealous that all the other Wesen got cool built-in weapons. 

If he had claws like that, he wouldn't even have to try very hard. He could just bury those suckers in the next below the brain, digging until he found that special little spot that connected your mind to the rest of you-- "Go for the spines!" Steve shouted, watching as Robin gave what would have been a killing blow to a normal human, only to dodge out of the way of the zombie's gnashing teeth. "They still need their brains to be controlled!" 

Billy wheeled around, swaying dangerously when his weight hit his bad knee, but his face was still blank and menacing. There wasn't a fraction of thought in his eyes as he began to stalk towards Steve. Taking one step back, Steve took a deep breath and tried to focus on his own battle. While he talked a big game, he still had no idea how he was going to pull this off. Maybe he just try his teeth again? Maybe he could get Billy on the ground and latch on-- But then he thought of how it had felt, tendons pulling and snapping under his teeth, and Steve's stomach roiled. Okay, that would definitely be a last resort.

All the Grimm instincts that had been so inconvenient when he was just a normal dude trying to get through his life were failing him now. He used to see an asshole on the street and think of five hundred ways to kill him in the messiest way possible, but now that he actually needed it, every option seemed unhelpful. Impossible. 

"I don't suppose you brought a weapon?" Steve muttered to Billy. There might have been a knife or something in his pocket, right? Hargrove seemed the type, though he'd definitely never used it on Steve. But then he'd have to get his hands in Billy's pockets without getting his throat torn open, and that didn't seem like an easy feat. 

The guns wouldn't work; Nancy had more than proven that. They hadn't brought anything else with them, not unless the rumors about Eddie keeping weapons in his van were true. Steve doubted it very much, especially considering Steve could see him out of the corner of his eye-- Wrestling with a zombie like an idiot, instead of using the fucking natural weapons coming out of his goddamn hands. 

"Fucking stupid handsome wieder boys," Steve muttered to Billy-- Who immediately lunged at Steve, affront clicking in his throat. 

Damn, attacking him for calling a boy handsome? Maybe Billy was still in there somewhere. 

Steve didn't even bother dodging this time. Billy was slower now, one leg down-- And while Steve had been down a leg for days now, he'd at least had time to adapt. The excrutiating pain had dulled to an unpleasant hum in and around Steve's body. He wasn't sure if he'd uncovered  new Grimm skill or if he'd just grown a new appreciation for real pain after being tortured, but, hey. Steve wasn't going to complain about not immediately collapsing in pain after kicking Billy away from him, Hopper's borrowed boot in the center of Billy's chest. 

Billy didn't fall, but he did stumble back, far enough away that Steve had a moment to look towards Eddie. The wieder, still trying to take down one zombie with nothing but his wiry strength and too-human hands, was losing-- Badly. Bite marks bled sluggishly along his shoulders and arms, and though he hadn't slowed his attacks, Steve could see the pain beginning to crease the Blutbad's ridged face. He wouldn't last long this way, and Steve wouldn't last much longer if half his brain was trying to keep an eye on him. 

He respected Wayne too much to encourage Eddie to break wieder. It was something Eddie hadn't chosen for himself, but it was obvious how important it was to both the Munsons. After their conversation in the cabin, Steve understood Wayne's strict adherence more than ever. He could imagine that at first, being wieder was little more than idealism and protection, an escape from the violent world they had grown up in, the one they were rescuing Eddie from. After Eddie's dad lapsed, though-- It wouldn't have taken much to morph into something sacred, a religious observance that proved your place in the world was a moral and just one. Eddie might have broken the small rules, like eating meat, but only because he could. As much as Eddie might have cited his own cowardice, Steve was certain it wasn't Eddie's only reason for keeping wieder. Steve could see the desperate need to prove himself in Eddie's every action, the need to prove to the world that a Blutbad could make his way through life without being steeped in blood and death. 

Steve would never have even considered asking Eddie to break that if the kids' lives weren't on the line. But they were. They had to fight, or not a single one of them was going to make it out of here. 

"Eddie!" he shouted, heart in his throat. "They're not human! You can't kill what's already dead." 

There was a moment of hesitation in Eddie's movements, clear as day to Steve even across all the chaos, and then Eddie leapt-- He tore into the zombie with a ruthlessness that Steve hadn't expected. Evidently, Eddie's instincts were much stronger than Robin's, because he was having no problem figuring out how to use his claws and teeth to his advantage. 

Now if only Steve's own instincts would be half so helpful. 

Billy finally found his feet underneath him, issuing a strange hissing sound as he righted himself completely. Steve retreated again, until his back pressed against the box office's remaining walls. Part of the box office had given up completely when the van hit it, and a third of the box office was now on the ground. The remaining structure was most of one wall and a cage of metal over the thick, elevated foundation. Steve's eyes darted back and forth, alighting on pieces of debris, considering them only for a moment as potential weapons before skittering away. A chunk of concrete? No, too wieldy. Crumbling brick was too... crumbly. That piece of rebar would work, only it was busy being part of the building, still-- Steve reached out, fingers wrapping around metal. 

He gave it a test tug, hissing in surprise when he felt it give. It didn't bend, exactly, but it wouldn't be impossible to get it there-- Which was news to him, obviously. He'd expected for his little idea to fail completely; With the powers he'd had this time Friday, it would have. Something had happened to him the last few days, something that had changed Steve completely. He wasn't sure if it was the aftereffects of the torture, something that would fade along with the adrenaline and pain, or if it was some more permanent side effect of all this... Grimminess. 

There wasn't, unfortunately, really any time to think about it. Besides, Steve had never been the thinker of the group, not even when he was the one nominally in charge. No, he had to make sure Dustin made it out of here alive, and then Steve would happily pass the question off to the little shit himself. 

Without breaking eye contact with Billy, Steve gathered all his strength and pushed. The rebar snapped faster than Steve had expected, and the way his numb fingers fumbled to keep his grip on the metal killed the mask of cool his feat of strength had given him. 

"Holy fuck," he heard Jonathan breathe. 

"Alright," Steve told Billy, who was still inching his way across the pavement. "Come on, asshole." 

He was as ready as he was ever going to be. 

When Billy leapt again, Steve settled into a batter's stance and swung, cracking Billy across his open mouth. Billy's head snapped back with a sickening crack, and-- for a moment, Billy seemed to freeze, unmoving except for his twitching fingers. Steve held his breath, hoping. Had he broken Billy's neck? Would that be enough to kill whatever connection the Flayer had to Billy's body?

After a split second of glorious victory, though, reality came crashing back in. Billy rolled his shoulders, a startlingly familiar movement, and slowly drug his head back into a proper position. It listed slightly to the side as Billy-- or whatever was inside Billy --smiled at Steve. Blood seeped between Billy's teeth, and Steve sighed, gathering himself for one more attack. 

His muscles ached, already pushed past the point of exhaustion. His lungs burned in his chest, every tendon in his body shook with his movement. Most of his muscles were numb and sparking, nerves failing after taking an abuse that most humans would fall under. Billy was giving him a fair fight, which was really only further proof that it was the Flayer that was in charge, here. The fight was slow, one measured blow at a time, almost like those old samurai movies that Grandpa Otis used to watch. It could have devolved into an all-out brawl, like Eddie and Robin were dealing with, but it didn't-- 

The Flayer was here, in Billy, and they wanted to see what Steve was made of. 

Steve looked the Flayer in the eye and nodded. "One last try. Come on." 

Billy leapt. 

Despite all of Steve's fantasies of samurai duels and fights with lazer swords, there was nothing elegant about their clash. Steve did not think of honor while slamming the rebar into Billy's stomach. The final blow wasn't quick-- There was no blade, no lightning-flash beheading or spray of blood. Billy fell forward, stumbling, and Steve forced the rebar into the base of Billy's spine. It was brutal, and it took effort and too much time, and although Billy did not, could not, breathe, Steve watched him die slowly. When Billy finally fell to the ground, Steve went with him, stumbling to the concrete. Black ichor spread slowly from Billy's body, still twitching, and Steve watched it seep into his borrowed clothes as if it was happening to someone else. 

He was tired. 

He was so, so tired.

"Steve!" Dustin was by his side before Steve could warn him not to come, Jonathan right behind him. "Holy shit, are you--" 

"Get up, Harrington," Jonathan said, kneeling by Steve's side. Their eyes met, and though there was a glimmer of fear in Jonathan's gaze, there was determination, too. Jonathan's hand squeezed Steve's bicep, hard, fingers digging into the edges of burns and bruises. The pain brought Steve back into his body enough to help him struggle to his feet, leaning heavily on Jonathan's shoulders. 

Four more zombies lay dead on the concrete around them; Eddie and Robin's claws dripping with ichor. Nancy was fine, but she was gray-faced, still staring out into the parking lot. The zombies that surrounded them had woken up, now, though Steve didn't know if it was the sound that had roused them or the Mind Flayer's influence. There wasn't a crowd, not yet, but something was churning amongst the cars. A few vanguard had made their way to front already, and Steve could hear more shuffling across the asphault towards the mall.

If they stayed and fought, they had no chance. There was nothing they could do but take them out one by one, and they would tire much faster than the zombies would. Steve would likely be the first to fall, he could already feel it tugging at his bones, and if another one like Billy rocked up, what could Robin or Eddie do about it? What could any of them do about it?" 

"Everyone get inside the theatre," Steve said, voice rasping in his throat. "Right now." 

Nancy turned to him, face pinched. Worry still lingered in the corners of her eyes, but she seemed more than happy to focus all that energy on being pissed. "Steve," she said, in that voice he hated-- He wasn't sure what inspired it in her, but it made him feel like a fucking idiot. Like she had to explain the world to him, and he'd never make it without her. "I have no idea what you've been going through in the last few days, but you none of it means you are in charge. Our brothers are in there, and I want answers." 

"Do you want answers now, or do you want them after we're dead?"

 Steve understood where she was coming from; Really, he did. It would be easy to let offense get in the way of logic, but this was Nancy. She didn't mean anything by it, just like she had never really meant to be malicious when she called him an idiot. She was just being honest about her thoughts and feelings, didn't understand why maybe Steve wanted her to see him as an equal-- Because to her, they weren't. In Nancy's head, Steve was just her idiot ex-boyfriend, too silly to even graduate without help. He'd survived the last two attacks by the skin of his teeth, constantly fucking up and getting himself involved in shit that never should have been his fight. If he was her, he wouldn't have trusted himself, either. 

The problem was, he didn't have time to convince her. Outside the zombies drew closer with every moment, and the situation inside probably wasn't any better. Steve didn't even have to look in Eddie or Robin's direction to know that snarls were starting to settle on their faces, neither of them aimed at the real threat. They were deeper into their instincts than they had ever allowed themselves before; Instincts that didn't exactly see humans as friends. This particular human had pointed a gun at their Grimm not five minutes ago, and her boyfriend had Steve in his-- admittedly gentle --grip. 

Maybe Steve wasn't in charge, but the Wesen in them would never allow Nancy to be, and they all needed to get this situation back under control before things got even messier. They didn't have time to squabble. As much as Nancy would hate him for it, maybe for the rest of their lives, Steve had to do the typical macho thing and put his fucking foot down. 

Her gunmetal blue eyes were blazing when he met her gaze, putting every ounce of himself into his woge. She didn't flinch, unmoving under his supernatural glare, but he could see the smoke reflected in her pupils. "Get in the fucking theater, Nance." 

Nancy didn't bother acknowledging the order, but she did lower her gaze and turn towards the theater. Steve was more than willing to take that as a win, vastly preferring an icy silence over another argument. 

"Um," Jonathan said, obviously torn between going after his girlfriend, who was trying to storm off without stomping on any zombie bits, and continuing to hold up the injured man clinging to his shoulders. 

"I got him," Eddie said, his voice thick and slurred through his fangs. Black ichor stained his mouth and teeth, and as Eddie's arm wrapped around Steve's waist, Steve had the brief fantasy of leaning in, pressing his own mouth to the corner of Eddie's, lips catching on the point of one of those canines. He barely paid attention to Jonathan stepping back, stuttering and sweating at Eddie's still-present woge. "You should get inside. It's not safe out here." 

"Thanks," Steve said, once Jonathan was out of human earshot. "Nice teeth, by the way." 

Eddie shot him a look that said Steve's vague guise of sanity was only being held up by how insane the rest of the world had become in the last few days. Steve was more than willing to accept being crazy, as long as Eddie and Robin had his back. 

Robin and Dustin took the front of their little group, Robin's gold fox eyes glinting in the darkness. Dustin's woge settled for the first time in weeks, his little nose twitching as his prey instincts went into overdrive. Nancy stumbled over her own feet at the first flush of fur, Jonathan's hands grabbing her elbows to steady her. She glared at Steve over her shoulder, as if it was Steve's fault that Dustin hadn't shared that little tidbit with her yet. He shrugged as best he could in Eddie's grip, and they followed the humans into the theater, pressed so close behind they were nearly treading on their heels. 

The theatre was suspiciously empty, so devoid of human life (or undead, as the case may be) that their footsteps echoed around them. There were little glimpses of people all around, abandoned popcorn and sodas littering the floor, candy spilling over the concession counter-- But they didn't see another person the entire time they crept through the lobby. 

Jonathan sighed in relief when nothing jumped out at them, but Steve wasn't so trusting. There had definitely been people in the theatre at one point, so all of those people, undead or not, had to go somewhere. If Will and Lucas were really in the access tunnels, then it was possible that the dozens of Hawkins movie goers were bearing down on the boys, desperately trying to get the Mind Flayers' prey back into his clutches. 

The worst part was that Steve couldn't think of a damn thing to do about it. 

Dustin was obviously of the same mind, because the moment they got to the lobby, he took a bee line towards the access hallways. It broke Steve's heart to stop him, but luckily Robin was ahead of him, already reaching to grab the little shit by the back of his shirt and haul him back.

"Slow your roll, beaver boy. Where are you going?" 

Dusin looked up at her, mammalian nose scrunching in confusion. "The tunnels! We can go straight to Will and Lucas, and the zombies--" 

"Absolutely fucking not," Eddie said, fingers flexing and claws pricking into the skin of Steve's hip. Steve tried not to ;ean into it. "Are you out of your mind?" 

Nancy frowned at Eddie, her eyes darting from him to Robin and back again, before she finally decided to go back to glaring at Steve. "Dustin's right," she said, voice flat. "It would be the fastest way to get to them." 

Apparently, this was going to be Steve's job to explain, anyway. "If we could just walk through, Will and Lucas wouldn't have gotten separated from the rest of the kids in the first place," he said. He stopped, struggling with his tone-- While Nancy had never seemed to care about not coming off condescending, Steve had suspected that his own bad habit of it had been one of the reasons she'd decided she was better off with Jonathan. He didn't mean to come off scolding, but it was hard when she just refused to fucking listen-- Steve took a deep breath. "Obviously, there's zombies in the access hallways. And I don't know about you guys, but I'm not thrilled at the idea of trying to fight those things in an enclosed space again." 

"If Will and Lucas are in trouble, we need to get to them first," Nancy said. She was already clenching her jaw and squaring her shoulders, spoiling for a fight. "They're completely defenseless out here, and--" 

"Exactly," Eddie said, the edge of a growl to his voice. "Completely defenseless, just like you and your boyfriend." 

Jonathan gave a guilty little jump, but Nancy's nostrils flared. "We are not--" 

"You're human! I'm sorry, Nance, I know it sounds terrible, but--" Steve stuttered, guilt running through his veins. He was doing the one thing he'd always told himself he'd never do again, gatekeeping a part of he world from Nancy over something she couldn't change. But this was different, surely. This was keeping her safe. "This isn't your fight. It can't be. There are no tools I can give you that will make you as good as Robin or Eddie could be with the same advantages. The zombies would tell you apart, eventually, and the only reason I've been so chill about you both coming along is because it will be easier to protect you two if you stay where I can see you." 

"No one asked you to protect us," Jonathan said, softly. He almost sounded sorry to say it, like he was choosing Nancy's side over sheer loyalty to Will and nothing else. Like the logic of Steve's argument was trying to peek its way through the cracks, and Jonathan had no choice but to ignore it. It only served to frustrate Steve further.

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for this job, either. I was born with it," Steve said. He pushed himself out of Eddie's arms, standing on his own two feet again. If he wanted them to take him seriously, he had to do at least this much, even as his body screamed at him. "Take it up with Wesen God or who the fuck ever. Until then, listen to me." 

"You want us to abandon our brothers just because you said so?" Nancy asked. She would have scoffed, probably, if she wasn't so angry. 

"I'm asking you to wait because I can't defend four humans at once by myself," Steve answered, because that was what it came down to in the end. Steve was already exhausted, and the others couldn't pick up his slack if he went down. Adding Will and Lucas to the mix was only putting more lives at danger, and spreading Steve's limited resources even more thinly. "If we can get to El, she can do double-- no, triple --what a normal Wesen can do. We have a better chance of getting the kids out alive if she's with us." 

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Oh, so you can put El in danger--"

"El is one of us. She can handle it," Steve said, prickling at the implication that he would do anything that would put El in danger if he didn't absolutely have to. "More than that, she would want to do it for Will and Lucas." 

"And Will and Lucas wouldn't?" Nancy challenged.

"That's not what I'm--" Steve's voice cut off as the frustration began to build in his throat, clenching the muscles like a physical fist. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw things. He wanted for there to be something he could, anything real and tangible, that would make this easier for her to understand. He wanted to stop being the villain for five fucking seconds.

Robin leapt in when Steve's brain failed him. "None of that is important right now," she said, eyes sliding from Steve to Nancy. He owed her an explanation about how everything had ended, after this was all over. Along with a long story about what the Upside Down even meant, really, for her and Eddie, too. "El's hexenbiest abilities are our best bet at getting everyone out of here alive. We're going to Scoops. You're welcome to try and go it on your own, but good fucking luck." 

Dustin blinked up at Robin with wide eyes, but Nancy seemed less impressed. 

"Are you threa--" 

"Fine!" Jonathan said, his voice cutting through his girlfriend's. His hands were clenched into fists at his side, but his gaze was lowered, meeting no one else's. "Fine, we'll do it your way." 

As angry as Nancy was, she didn't seem to relish in the idea of fighting this battle on her own. She gave Jonathan a nasty glare then pushed past Robin and Dustin, stomping towards the archway that fed into the rest of the mall. 

"Alright," Steve said to whoever was still listening to him. "We stay quiet and we stay together. We take this slow, alright? We don't need to start another fight before we can get to Scoops." He didn't say that he was pretty sure he wouldn't make it through another one. 

For whatever it was worth, they all seemed to listen. They crept through the mall quietly, dodging zombies the entire way-- Steve wasn't so stupid to think they were exactly stealth masters, of course. He was barely walking upright, and Robin and Dustin had never had great control over their limbs. It was obvious, at least to him, that the Mind Flayer had simply thought them below its notice for the time being. They were, after all, right where it knew to find them. At any point, it could change its mind and send every zombie in the building after them-- But there were evidently bigger fish to fry, and so when she ducked behind bushes, holding their breathe, the zombies didn't bother glancing their way.

Nancy fell back to the middle of the pack, and then further, letting the others outpace her as she drifted back. Eventually, she was moving at Steve's belaboured pace, only Eddie left behind them. She didn't speak at first, narrowed eyes always locked on the closest zombie. Steve hoped that their presence would be enough to deter her, but the silence didn't hold out. It wasn't a surprise as much as it was a disappointment; Nancy had never been great at letting someone else have the last word, but he'd hoped that a year with Jonathan and no monster hunting had gentled her a little. 

No such luck for him, evidently. 

"You know, you've changed a lot," Nancy said, and her tone of voice made it clear, even to Steve, that it wasn't a change she was happy with. 

Which was kinda rich, considering that he'd bent over backwards changing himself for her. He found the barest modicum of sympathy, though, at the bottom of his shriveled soul. It must be strange, being out of the loop for once-- Even harder when it was someone you left behind coming back to knock on your door with terrible news. Still. "No fucking kidding," he muttered under his breath, because the zombies still had ears, and he wasn't sure he wanted the Mind Flayer to be up to date on his relationship drama. 

"I mean it," Nancy said. "You're..." 

"Nancy, I don't want to put too fine a point on it, but I've killed people since the last time we talked," Steve said through gritted teeth. His head hurt. His throat hurt. He wanted to lay down again, wanted to sprint to Will and Lucas and make sure nothing ever touched them. He wanted Nancy to shut up. He wanted to believe he could love her again. He wanted this to be over. "Of course I've changed. You barely even knew me before." 

"I knew you enough to know you wouldn't do..." Nancy's voice was tinted with digust. "This." 

"...Okay," Steve said. It was what he always said when people were like this, fishing for some kind of answer he didn't know how to give. He'd never found himself resorting to scripts with Nancy, not before, but he didn't know this Nancy-- She'd never been interested in him before, not really, and now it felt like she was trying to peek inside his brain. Steve didn't like it. He wanted it to go back to vague disinterest and thinly veiled pity, please.

"I just want you to ask yourself, Steve: Is this really who you want to be?" 

Irritation flushed hot through Steve's veins. "What are my other options, Nance? I go back to the way I was in high school? Too fucking afraid to stand up for anyone but myself?" 

"No--" 

"No, you preferred the guy I was when I was with you. Just let you make all the decisions, right?" Steve's voice was too loud. Fuck, he was the one who had ordered everyone else to stay quiet, and he was the one who was going to ruin it. He was going to get them all killed, and he knew it, but he needed-- Anger bubbled in his stomach like a physical illness, tugging at his gag reflex. He was either going to yell or vomit, and Steve didn't think there was anything in his stomach besides roiling acid. 

"That's not how I remembered it," Nancy hissed. 

"Right, yeah. The one time I pushed back, you stopped loving me over it," Steve said, rolling his eyes. The news was so old that it barely even hurt to talk about it. "But I was the one that showed up at your house with roses the next day." 

The anger on Nancy's face flickered, replaced with careful, guarded suspicion. "You never told me that."

"What would it have changed?" Steve asked. It was kinder than asking when he was supposed to, considering they had never really talked about the whole break up. They hadn't even had a conversation long enough to officially break up with each other, even, which was kinda the problem with their whole relationship. "You were already with Jonathan before I could even buy the damn things." 

"So this," Nancy said, pointing at Steve's chest as if he was the mistake she was currently trying to fix, "is my fault?" 

"No, Nancy, it's--" 

Eddie's voice, deep and vibrato, was just behind Steve's ear. "Did you ever consider maybe this has nothing to do with you?" 

Steve jumped guiltily. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten their friends were with them. He peeked at the zombies, who mostly stood around staring blankly at advertising, and then the other members of their odd little party-- Robin was glaring at the closest zombie like she should explode it with her mind, hexenbiest-style, while Jonathan and Dustin were pretending to look anywhere but at Steve. 

Jonathan's avoidance had a tinge of embarassment to it, Steve was smug to note. 

"Excuse me?" Nancy asked, tone arch. Even as pissed as he was, Steve had to admit it was kind of impressive that Nancy had only just found out about Wesen and was already comfortable enough to sass a Blutblad. Like, honestly, Hawkins might have been in better hands if Nancy had turned out to be the Grimm instead. 

Robin appeared behind Nancy so quickly that even Steve's Grimm sense couldn't see it. Honestly, that might have been because of the way his vision had started to go blurry around the edges, though. "Sorry, we need to borrow Steve," she said, patting Nancy on the shoulder. 

"Yeah," Eddie said, sounding entirely too smug that Robin had joined in on his shenanigans. "It's Wesen stuff, you wouldn't understand." 

"Guys..." Steve sighed, but didn't struggle as Robin and Eddie tugged him a little further away into a corner, blessedly free of zombies but stuffed full with benches and half-empty vending machines. Dustin blinked dolefully after them as they abandoned him with the humans. "What the fuck?" 

"Now's not really the time to try and hook up with your ex, Harrington," Eddie said, mouth turned into a smirk. 

Steve glanced down at the arm Eddie had thrown over Robin's shoulder. "You're one to talk." 

"What?" 

"I heard what she was saying," Robin said, in a soft, hurried voice. She was taking the only reasonable course of action and ignoring whatever the fuck Steve and Eddie were talking about. "Fuck her, Steve, seriously." 

"No, she's right," Steve admitted. It was easier saying it to them than it was Nancy and her narrowed eyes. "I'm... different. Being a Grimm has changed me. We both knew this would happen, right?" 

Robin looked briefly stricken, exchanging glances with Eddie before she stepped forward and grabbed Steve's wrist. Her face drew into rare solemnity, eyes flashing gold as she leaned in. "No, not right. You're still you. You just have, like, people who aren't human around you now," she gestured to herself, and then to Eddie. "You don't have to pretend to be one of them anymore." 

Steve had thought they had gotten past the whole Wesen racism thing with Robin finally accepting that Steve wasn't going to go on a murder spree, and yet here she was, trying to tell him he was a good person with the same logic. "People are people," he said. 

"Yeah, yeah, well humans' brain chemistry isn't wired to tear people's throats out with their teeth, so, you know," Robin said, shrugging. 

"Oh, fuck," Eddie said, as if it had just occured to him. "Is that why I keep having those dreams?" 

Jesus. Steve suddenly found himself torn between not wanting to ask at all and wanting an extremely detailed play-by-play. "What dr--" 

Robin saved Steve from himself by interrupting. "I think you keep having those dreams because you're werewolf vegan." 

"That's not--" 

"Guys!" Dustin hissed, from where he was still standing next to Nancy and Jonahan. "Keep it together." 

All three of them looked pissed, Dustin less so, but Steve couldn't exactly blame them. After all their yellling and negotiating, the three older Wesen weren't exactly taking this as seriously as they had told the humans they should be-- Maybe that was going to be a fatal mistake, but Steve also wasn't sure they even had the energy for it, anymore. It was hard to stay scared when you've been under the threat of death for almost three days. Eventually the whole concept of zombies and lab experimentation kinda lost it's edge-- Like, yeah, Steve didn't want it to happen, but if it did-- Well, what the fuck was he supposed to do about it? Might as fucking well at this point.

They rejoined the others, Eddie glaring back at everyone and Robin pulling sheepish little grimaces as she ducked back into formation. Steve had no idea what he'd done to deserve those two, but he really hoped he could keep them both at the end of all this-- He barely understood them, most times, and he was pretty sure they didn't understand him, either, but their willingness to try was more than Steve ever could have asked for. 

It had been a blessing to have Dustin and El on his side, but somehow, while Steve wasn't paying attention, his number of friends had doubled over the last few days. 

As blessed as Steve felt, their brief pitstop seemed to put a wrench in their stealth mission. Either the Mind Flayer had recovered a little or simply gotten bored, because the zombies seemed a little more interested in their passage. Vacant eyes were glued to their every step, and time and again, sole zombies would peel their way out of the crowd to approach the group. It wasn't difficult to take them down, the Wesen coordinating to take them down together-- It seemed like a test, more than anything, the Flayer poking at their ranks and seeing what they would do. 

As they slowly made their way from ambush to ambush, Steve couldn't help but notice that the Fourth of July crowds were thinner than he'd expected. There was less people than had been at his last shift, and with all the Fourth of July sales going on, that should have been impossible-- Their manager had ordered double everything just to prep for this weekend. Where were all the people? If Steve had any ability to hope left in his broken body, he would have prayed that they all made it out alive, running when the people around them burst into death and decay-- But he'd seen too much to consider such a simple, happy possibility. 

Wherever they were, though, it wasn't here. Steve guessed he should just count himself lucky and move on, but his brain couldn't shake the image of the bodies lining the lab corridors. 

When they made it to Scoops, the grate was still closed and locked, as if the store had never even been opened. He couldn't remember if he and Robin were supposed to be on the morning shift today-- Could barely even remember which day it was, honestly --or if something had gone terribly wrong before the other manager could even open for business. 

Steve frowned at the metal bars. He didn't have his keys. He was pretty sure they were still in the Beemer's ignition, wherever his car had ended up. They definitely weren't on him; These weren't even his pants. 

"Do you have your key?" he asked Robin, who immediately rolled her eyes.

"I already told you--"

"Right, sorry," Steve said. "Okay. How the fuck--" 

Eddie stepped forward, patting Steve's shoulder with a wide, wild grin. "Don't worry about it, big guy. I got this." Eddie slipped something out of his pocket and then squatted in front of the grate. For just a moment, Eddie frowned down at the lock in front of him before shrugging, and then slipping two long, thin pieces of metal into the keyhole. 

A lockpick, Steve realised-- Or two of them. However it worked. Steve had never learned, obviously, and while all the rumors labeled Eddie a thief, Steve had thought they were all just that: Rumors. Eddie knowing how to pick the lock on any store in the mall was something of a surprise, not to mention the fact that Eddie'd had the tools to make it possible in his pocket for what must have been days.

"You just carry those around with you?" Steve asked, trying to keep judgement out of his voice-- He had, after all, broken a lot of laws today. Who was he to make moral calls when it came to a light tough of grand larceny? 

Eddie grinned up at him, squinting through his bangs. "I do when two of my friends have just been kidnapped by federal agents." 

Oh, yeah. Fair enough. Steve supposed they had all but called for a free-for-all on felonies when he and Robin had tried to take out federal agents with their bare hands. He shrugged, relenting, but before he could say as much, the lock clicked under Eddie's ministrations, and the Blutbad was standing. 

"Maybe we should--" Robin began, but Eddie has already yanked the gate open, metal rattling so loudly that Steve figured there wasn't a zombie in the place that couldn't hear it. 

"Alright, inside," Steve said, shoving Dustin forward, "and then--"

Before he could finish his sentence, an invisible wave of force hit them, sending Dustin flying back into Steve's chest and them both tumbling to the ground. They were all thrown to the floor, and the pressure didn't let up, pinning them to the sticky linoleum-- Adrenaline surged in Steve's blood, bewildered by an unseen enemy, but the more logical parts of him recognized the force as familiar. 

It wasn't hard to put two and two together, even with his ears ringing. 

"El!" Steve croaked, as loudly as he could manage. "El, it's us." 

The pressure immediately relented, and the gate was thrown open with a bang-- Three skinny shadows appeared in the Scoops entryway.

"Steve!" 

Before Steve could even find his footing again, El was in front of him, throwing her arms around him. Steve scooped her up, no hesitation, struggling to his feet under her weight. His muscles protested every moment, but feeling her heartbeat against his chest was worth it. He had been-- He had been so fucking certain that she wouldn't be here when he finally made it, that it would be a miracle if he even made it at all-- 

Max was right behind El, wrapping her arms around Steve's waist, leaning against his side. Her eyes were swollen, face streaked with tears, but she didn't even flinch when Dustin came behind her and threw his arms around her and El, both. For a moment, they silently held each other, ignoring every danger around them to cling to each other. 

"Are you okay?" Steve heard Nancy ask Mike, in their much more subtle reunion by the doorway. They didn't even hug, Steve noted dully over El's shoulder. He would have to wrangle Mike into hugs more often; The Wheelers were starting to depress him. 

"El kept them away from us, but..." Mike cut a guilty look to their cuddle pile, a frown hovering on the edges of his mouth.

"They were just--" El took a shuddering breath, on the precipice of a sob. "They were just normal people. I am supposed to be a superhero. I did not know what to--" 

"No, hey," Steve said, holding her even tighter. "You did the right thing."

He wanted to tell her the truth, that the zombies were just shells, now, that all the people were long, long gone, but-- Max was still there, clinging to Steve. Clinging to hope. Will had said that Billy being Flayed was the whole reason they were here, so there was no way that Max wasn't aware of what that would mean for her brother. As much as she didn't like Billy, Steve didn't want to make her grapple with his death-- not right now, not when she had to lean on the guy who put a piece of metal through his shambling corpse. 

Mike stepped forward, awkwardly rubbing a hand across El's back. His estimation of Mike as a boyfriend rose a few points; He knew it wasn't easy for the kid to reach out like that. Not with his dad.  Mike glanced up at Steve, about to say something, but then he hesitated. Eventually, frowning, he asked, "What happened to you?"

El began to rouse, pulling her face out of Steve's neck. Sniffling, she look up at Steve with tear-filled eyes. "The zombies did not do this." 

"No, I, uh--" Steve flushed. "Before the zombies showed up, I ran into some old friends of yours." 

El's woge came faster than Steve had ever seen it, pit-like eyes glaring out of her wrinkled face. Mike flinched away from her, sending Steve's approval plummeting back down. He could feel El's anger practically vibrating off of her, and Max pressed closer, clutching at El's clothing. 

"Hey, it's fine," Steve soothed. He knew this was a huge trigger for her power flares; He couldn't blame her, considering it probably would be for him going forward, too. There was too much going on for her to freak out right now, though. There was one enemy to fight, no target to focus all her ire on. They had to focus, and they needed El's help. "I'm fine. They're-- The zombies got to them before they could get out. They're gone." 

"They're not just in the mall?" Max asked, red eyes widening. 

"No," Robin said, stepping up for the first time, "the ones we saw were clear in Lafayette." 

"Will called us earlier--" Steve began, but Mike's voice cut him off.

"Will! Is he alright?" 

"He's fine," Steve said, unsure if it was even still true, but he was willing to lie to the kid. They couldn't tell Mike anything about Will for the same reason they couldn't tell El anything about the lab-- Some buttons you just didn't press. "But he told us he could feel the Mind Flayer. Have you felt him?" 

"Yes, but not-- Not within," El said. Her woge faded, human nose scrunching in contemplation.  "It is everywhere, beyond the mall. Beyond Indiana. It is... difficult to tell where is is right now, but it feels close. Its reach is long." 

"Great," Eddie muttered, kicking at a piece of debris on the tile behind Steve. Steve wanted to reach out, bring Eddie into the fold, introduce him to his kids, but-- Alright, a third button that couldn't be pressed. No labs, no Will, no Steve wanting Eddie to be in his family. 

"Would the Mind Flayer come after Will himself, if he could?" he asked. 

El frowned up at him. "Probably?"

"Where are we going with this, Steve?" Nancy asked. Her suspicion was obvious, even without Steve sneaking a peek over El's shoulder. 

With a sigh, Steve sat El back down on the ground, resisting the urge to scoop her up again. He knew that it was a bit ridiculous to be so protective of someone who could, most likely, still kick his ass, but-- Well, she was his little sister. He'd claimed as much to Eddie and Robin when he'd thought she was gone, and now he needed to follow through when she was still with him. It didn't matter how powerful El was, she was Steve's responsibility. 

"Look, it's going to take way too long to take zombies out one by one," he said, making eye contact with Nancy. It was obvious she was the one he needed to convince, if they were going to get anything done. And it wouldn't be an easy fight, either. "We need to strike at it's source." 

"We need to get the kids out first," Nancy said, jaw tightening. 

"Why are you--" Steve closed his eyes in frustration. "You have never once cared about anything but the truth and putting a stop to this, and now you're trying to save lives? Why? Because I'm the one in charge, now?" 

"How dare you--" 

"Steve!" Robin's voice, stern and shocked, cut through Steve's anger. He opened his eyes to see her standing in between him and Nancy, arm crossed. "This is not the time." 

"You're right. Sorry," Steve said. To Robin, not to Nancy. If Nancy wanted an apology, she was welcome to go first.

"The good news is we know where its attention is," Eddie said, stepping in to draw Steve's attention back to the problem at hand. 

"I don't think it'll take much to lure him here at all," Dustin said, eyes darting between Nancy and Steve, obviously unsure if he should even be saying it out loud. "We've got Will and El in one building, and--" 

"Stop," Jonathan said, the word torn out of him. He looked lost, drowning in a sea of new, stupider bullshit when he'd only just begun to understand the last round of it. But that familiar Byers determination was in his eyes, glinting in the light blue. He stepped out from Nancy's shadow, meeting Steve's eyes for the first time in hours. "Just-- Steve. I get that this is... this is your whole deal, now, and I don't really know anything about what's going on with... all of this. But I'm not going to just sit by and let Will get pulled into this again. No way. Nothing you can say about monsters and heroes is going to change my mind about that. You might be in charge, but he's my brother. I protect him; That's my job. We need to get Lucas and Will and-- and Mike and Max out of here. Right now." 

Steve felt a sting of pain, though nothing Jonathan said had been cruel or malicious in any way. No, for most of it, Jonathan was right-- That was the worst part. A few months ago, Steve would have said all the same exact things. The pain came from regret, mostly, that Steve had lost sight of it all. The weight of being a Grimm had already begun to weigh heavily on his shoulders, and Steve envied Jonathan for the ability to see it all so simply. He missed when he could hinge it all on the survival of those he loved, when Steve didn't have to struggle with the survival of an entire race of humans in the balance.

He hated himself for even thinking it, but in the face of Jonathan's simple, ruthless love, Steve could almost understand his parents. They had turned away from everything Grandpa Otis had stood for, all the things he'd learned working side by side with Wesen, and Steve had judged them for that-- He still did. But he didn't deny that life was easier when you could be like Jonathan, putting someone else above the entire world. Steve had been like that, once, too, and in his more selfish moments he longed to be that way again. He could be that way now, getting the kids away from here and waiting for the Mind Flayer to follow, letting the mall and Hawkins itself crumble behind them.

Steve couldn't do that. Jonathan, though-- Jonathan could. Steve just had to give him a little help on the way out. 

"You're right," Steve said, nodding as Jonathan sighed in relief. "You're right, I'm sorry."

Nancy hummed doubtfully. 

"I really am, Nance, I--" Steve sighed, giving up. There would be no convincing her of his good intentions, not until they were all out of danger. "You and the rest of the kids should go get Will and Lucas and get out of here. We'll try and lure most of the zombies our way, so you can have a clear shot to the theatre doors." 

"Oh, absolutely not," Eddie protested.

"Eddie, come on," Robin whispered, tugging on his jacket sleeve. She was obviously trying to help Steve out, but Eddie tugged his arm out of her grip and continued glaring at Steve. 

"No. I mean, usually I would complain about you volunteering me for a suicide mission, but my bigger concern is that we made a deal, Steve," Eddie said, a bit of fang peeking out through his frown. "You have to let people help you. That includes your ex and her boyfriend, apparently." 

"What? No," Steve said, blinking. He had definitely not agreed to let Jonathan and Nancy risk their lives for him. He would have never agreed to that. That wasn't even an option. "I meant I would let you and the other Wesen help me. Obviously!" 

"Really?" Eddie said, arching an eyebrow. "Because that's not what I meant." 

"You said 'us'!" Steve hissed, resisting the urge to start screaming. It was bad enough that Nancy was fighting him at every turn, now Eddie had to get in on it too? 

"You did say it would be easier for everyone if we stuck together," Robin said, voice small. 

"I-- Fine," Steve said, eventually, mostly because he hated it when Robin acted like he was a threat. "Fine, you're right. The Mind Flayer can wait. We'll get you and the kids out first." 

They took the access hallways. Steve wasn't crazy about the idea, considering he still thought fighting in an enclosed space like that was asking for trouble. Nancy, however, had pointed out that if the Flayer was after El as much as he was Will, then waltzing through the mall with her was a terrible idea-- It was a good point, and Steve had to give her credit for figuring out how to use his weaknesses against him so quickly. Knowing that it was better than the alternative didn't stop the paranoia, though. 

And he was paranoid. Horrifically so. Every shadow had become a zombie, now, and every zombie was the Mind Flayer itself. Every inch of him was expecting a fight, and was trying  reach for that familiar Grimm adrenaline-- But there was none left. Steve had never been great at biology, passing most of his tests with a solid D that he kept bolstered by homework and copied essays, so he didn't know if there was actually a finite supply. It certainly felt like it, though. 

His body wanted nothing more than to lay down on his bathroom floor and puke until he fell asleep. While also eating a bag of Tato Skins the size of his body, if at all possible. The point was, his body just wasn't doing the Grimm-ing he needed it to, right now. If he kept pushing it, maybe he never would again-- The ticking clock of his ability to stand was ticking even faster, and they didn't have time to be fucking around. 

Which was why he cursed when they found his Scoops manager, clearly Flayed, coming towards them. 

"Is that--" Robin cut herself off, sighing. Yeah, they weren't going to find that horrible mullet and mustache combo on anyone else in Hawkins. Even more obvious was the Scoops' managers outfit, stupid fucking epaulets and all, still garish and tacky under all that blood. 

"Poor Kyle," Steve sighed.  "El, can you make it quick?" 

El nodded, turning to the zombie and, with an ease that would have been frightening if it wasn't his little sister, telepathically broke Kyle's neck. Steve watched Kyle's body slump to the ground with pity. Behind him, Robin groaned. 

"Dude," she whined as Steve stepped over Kyle's body. "I can't believe how incredibly fired we are right now." 

"You think someone's going to blame us?" Steve asked. He couldn't help but shoot Robin a grin over his shoulder. "Just call us into the office like, hey, so I heard you murdered your zombified manager?" 

"Can we not use the word murder, please?" Jonathan protested, then muttering under his breath. "It's making me twitchy." 

Alright, so maybe they had a little more time to fuck around. 

It was suspiciously easy to make their way through the halls. Sure, there were a few zombies here and there, more pitiful stragglers like Kyle, but nothing that really stood in their way. Maybe it was just having El on their side, or maybe Will and Lucas had just been too terrified to fight back. It was a good thing they had chosen to be safe, he told himself, even as he frantically checked over his shoulder for the thousandth time tonight. They weren't being trapped here. It was fine. The kids were fine. 

There was a small storage room in the middle of the access hallways, about the size of one of the kiosks upstairs. It mostly served as a landing to go up towards the offices above, but there was a small, rarely-stocked bathroom in one corner, and a couple seats and chairs for the bigger stores without their own breakrooms. Steve and Robin didn't spend a lot of time here, and he couldn't imagine anyone else did, either-- The room had always given him the absolute creeps. It was something about the walls, maybe. The walls were a sickly grey, paint already peeling and yellowing  where sneaky employees caught a quick smoke before their shifts. It probably wouldn't have felt so odd if the rest of the mall hadn't been so new, all chrome and neon and clean, perfect tile. 

It was also, however, pretty much the best place Steve could think of to set up camp in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. They could only hope that Will and Lucas had the same instincts-- At the very least, they could leave the squishier humans here, Max and Mike especially, before they ventured out to find the boys. Maybe they could even bring the boys back there to plan out their next moves, instead of doing it out in the open. Steve's brain whirred as he tried to think ahead, something he had never been that good at. He just wished it wasn't a skill he was having to learn on his feet. 

The door to the storage room was barred when they made it, but Steve could hear the sounds of life-- as in, real life, unFlayed, unzombified humans --within the room. It didn't take much to bash the doors in. El and Steve didn't even have to lift a hand. Eddie and his big shitkicking boots were more than enough to handle another door, although this one was a bit less elegant than the last. 

The lights were off when the door flew opened. There was a small noise from inside the shadows, a quick inhalation of fright. Steve blinked, trying to will his Grimm vision into adjusting faster, but Max was running forward into the darkness. He doubted she could see any better than he could, but that didn't stop her. Tears were pouring down her face again as she tripped over her own feet, and Steve's sight balanced itself just enough to see a pair of hands reach out and steady her. 

"Lucas," Max breathed. 

He looked just as devastated as Max did. Tears shone against his face, and he looked from Max to the rest of the Party one after another, eyes wide. He said nothing, made not a single noise, but his face was practically screaming. Steve's heart lurched in his chest. Lucas had never freaked out like this, not even when they were being attacked by demodogs in the junkyard. Something had happened. 

"Lucas?" Steve stepped foward, hands out in placation. He didn't think Lucas was the type to lash out, but Steve remembered being a scared teen boy. The last thing they needed was to push him further into whatever panic had Lucas's hands shaking against Max's skin. "Where's Will? Are you--" 

"Oh, god," Robin breathed, looking past them. 

Whirling, Steve followed her sightline to the back of the room, next to the door that opened back into the hallway that ran behind the theatre. The tables had been pushed together in a line, the chairs moved out of the way, and on top of the tables lay Will. His skin was pale and sallow, and for a moment Steve thought the worst. The kid was shivering, though, almost shaking, and corpses don't get fevers-- Whatever was happening, Will was still alive. 

Jonathan was by his brother's side in a heartbeat, pushing past Lucas and Max to fall to his knees beside the makeshit bed. He immediately pushed back his brother's wet, matted bangs. Grief was a familiar visitor on Jonathan's face, an expression of mourning so familiar on him that it almost seemed practiced. There was nothing fake about the low noise Jonathan made, though, between a wail and a sob. 

"Will? Will! Wake up. Will? Come on, buddy, wake up." 

Steve made himself turn away. How many times in one life could you lose the person who meant most to you? How many times could you defy death before you gave up? 

"What happened?" he asked Lucas, softly. Steve wasn't sure he wanted Jonathan to hear this.

"I don't know. I-- He just collapsed," Lucas said.  He looked up at Steve, tears filling his eyes, and it was all Steve could do to not pull Lucas into a hug. He held back, but Max didn't-- Immediately, she was leaning against Lucas's chest, arms squeezed tight around his ribs. "He was so hot," Lucas continued, "and I tried-- I tried taking care of him, but I couldn't get him to wake up. I couldn't cool him down. I'm sorry. I couldn't fix it. I couldn't--" 

"Hey, buddy." Steve risked putting a hand on Lucas's shoulder, trying to ground the kid. He was in the midst of a panic attack, Steve could see that now, though he didn't know if Lucas had ever had one before. Steve could remember his first, though he had been a little younger than Lucas was now, and how the fear only doubled once you realized you had no control over what was happening to your own body. They had to get him calmed down before it started to get worse. Luckily, Lucas seemed pretty receptive to touch as a grounding method, leaning into Steve's hand and clinging just as hard to Max as she was to him. Steve decided to try and talk him out of it, at least distract him enough from his own body that he might come down a little. "Come on, it's not your fault. You did a good job, okay? Try to remember, did Will say anything before he collapsed? Or after?" 

"I couldn't fix it. I couldn't stop it. He's--" Lucas took a deep, shuddering breath. He seemed to carry his panic in his throat, much like Steve himself did. Every word seemed to have to fight its way out, he swallowed hard between every phrase, trying to clear a lump that didn't actually exist. "He's going to turn into one of those... those things, and I couldn't--" 

Without a word, Dustin, who had been right behind Jonathan racing to Will's side, drifted back to Lucas. He leaned his fully body against his best friend, head against his shoulder, effectively crushing Lucas between Max and Dustin's bodies. Lucas's hand came up to grasp the arm Dustin had wrapped around him, grip so tight that Steve watched his knuckles flush ashen. 

"What's happening?" Lucas asked. His eyes seemed a little more focused, the fog beginning to clear. "What are those things?" 

"There's a lot I don't have time to explain right now, buddy, and I'm sorry," Steve said, truly meaning it. He knew what it was like to always be the one without information, and he hated for the kids to go through that. "But... we think they're being controlled by the Mind Flayer, and--" 

"No, I know that," Lucas said, voice reedy. "But why? Why is this happening again? Why all those people?" 

Steve hesitated. He had something of a theory, but he wasn't sure if it was a great idea to tell the other kids about the lab yet. While Steve hadn't seen any signs that El's past was particularly triggering for them, on some level the past two years had to be highly traumatic for them. How was learning that so many people were dying at the hands of the same old assholes going to affect Lucas? Or Max, or Mike, for that matter? When were these kids going to be able to stop paying for the sins of a man who was already dead? As long as other men tried to emulate him, Steve supposed, which might stop soon, if the government took the attack as the warning sign it obviously was meant to be.

Or it could be forever, if human nature had anything to say about it. After the week he'd just had, and the things he'd learned, Steve was more than happy to say he'd keep fighting the ripples of Brenner's experiments as long as they kept popping up, but he wished that the dead asshole would keep his kids out of it. They didn't deserve to be burdened with this for the rest of their lives, just like those Wesen kids hadn't deserved to die for what was done to them. 

"I don't know. I don't know, and I'm sorry," Steve said, heart pounding, "but I'm going to find out. We're going to make sure this never happens again." It was lie, all of it. Steve had never been a great liar, and the sentence rung hollow in his chest, but what else was he supposed to say? 

"Steve," Nancy said. She hovered beside his elbow, anxiety clear in every line of her face. She seemed pale, her mouth drawn tight, and he would almost think she was angry if he didn't know her so well. He had never been great at reading her, but he would have had to been blind to not recognize the grief in her eyes when it had been his constant companion in the year of their relationship. 

"How's Will?" he asked, eyes darting to where Jonathan was still slumped next to Will's sleeping form.

"I don't know," Nancy admitted, after a beat. "He's not like he was last year. It's-- It's something else." 

"We should get him to the hospital," Robin said. Despite her earlier irritation, she was now close to Nancy's side. That was part of what Steve loved so much about Robin; No matter how she felt about someone, her heart was too big to ignore someone else's pain. He hoped that whatever happened between him and Nancy, however this odd battle for hierarchy shook out, they would be able to salvage something resembling a friendship from it. 

Eddie, on the other hand, stood apart from them all, unmoving in the corner. His eyes were locked on Will's face, and Steve wasn't sure if he had so much as breathed in the moments since they'd opened the door. Eddie would be a much harder sell, probably, but it wasn't because his heart wasn't up to snuff-- It was just bleeding, all over everything. Steve wasn't sure how anyone had been able to ignore it, because it was all he could see now, when he looked at him. Eddie, frozen in grief for a kid he didn't even know. For a family he hadn't had a single positive interaction with. Yeah, Eddie was going to be a lot harder to lure into the fold, but Steve was determined to try. 

"I don't know if we should move him," Nancy said, bringing Steve back into the present. 

"What? But--" 

"Even if he'd be fine, that doesn't change the fact that if we're attacked, he'll be the most vulnerable," she said. Her voice shook as she said it, and Steve could tell she didn't like it, but she knew it was the right choice. Steve had been reminding her over and over again, after all. "He's the one they're after, right? You're pretty sure?" 

"I..." Steve almost wanted to lie to her, to smooth the frown lines from her face. "Yeah." 

"So... so if we have to carry him and protect him," Nancy said, "there's no telling what might happen. It's safer to stay here, where we can control the variables." 

There was also the small problem of Will being Flayed. Steve was still hoping for the best, but someone had to consider the worst possible outcomes, here; If Will was turning into a zombie, taking him out into the open where the Mind Flayer could use him as part of an ambush would only put El and the other kids in danger. He doubted he had to tell Nancy that, though. There was a certain resignation to the way she refused to look Will's way that told Steve she'd already considered it.

It was kind of her not to say it out loud, though. Jonathan wouldn't be able to handle hearing it, even if he had already thought it himself. Freaking him, or any of the kids, out abotu it wouldn't do anyone any favors. Keeping it to themselves was the right call, just one that the Nancy Steve had loved wouldn't have made. Maybe he had been harsh, earlier, too hurt to give her the due she deserved. Maybe she had changed just as much as he had. 

"We cannot wait any longer," El said. She stayed by Steve's side, tucking her small hand into the crook of his elbow, but her eyes were as locked on Jonathan and Will as Eddie's were. "The time to attack is now, before it is too late." 

"... You're right," Nancy said. "So what do we do about the Mind Flayer? Apparently, nothing we did last year was enough."

"Can I just say," Eddie said, finally pulling himself out of his stupor, "it still freaks me out that you named all these creepy crawlies after DnD monsters. I'm going to have to throw, like, all my minis out." 

Steve hummed. He didn't know what a mini was, exactly, but he could imagine something like an action figure for their little game. That was the kind of thing the kids would be into. Eddie seemed a little old to be collecting toys, but maybe it was like the nerd version of baseball cards? Besides, Steve had to admit he was curious about how accurate the little shits had been about their naming habits. From what Nancy had said about the demogorgons, not very, but maybe they had improved.

 "Mind Flayers ever make zombies in your game?" he asked. 

"No." Eddie tilted his head, thinking, then shrugged. "They made vampires, once. It was some weird mad science arc, where they made a blend of Ithilids and vampires in a lab and--"  Eddie stopped, blinking as he considered his own words. "Huh." 

Robin looked at him, eyes wide. "No way in hell." 

"I mean, probably not, right?" Eddie said, but he didn't look convinced. If anything, he looked like he desperately wanted Steve to tell him no, that the monster trying to kill them absolutely wasn't yet another fucked up science experiment, and he was stupid for thinking it. 

They should be so lucky.

"I've been trying not to think about it," Steve admitted, "but the thought did occur to me." 

Nancy frowned, squinting at them. "Am I missing something here?" 

So much, Steve thought. His chest ached when he thought of all he hadn't told Nancy yet, about Barb and about the monster that had dragged them both into it. It only made him feel guiltier for squabbling with her like this, for being so resentful for how she treated him in a situation when she was just a girl that had lost her best friend-- More than anything, Steve wished they had time to sit down and hash things out, to push all the Grimmness to the side and just talk about the things bubbling up underneath it. 

They didn't have time. He barely had enough time to explain, and they certainly didn't have enough time for Nancy's ensuing breakdown. Because she would have a breakdown, or else try to repress one. Steve didn't blame her for that at all; If it had been someone he had loved, he would have never breathed normally again. Losing Barb had been hard enough on Nancy once, there was no telling what knowing what Barb had become before she died would do to her. 

The thing was, Nancy deserved to lose it. She deserved to have a moment to sit with her grief and horror. She deserved to know. 

But Steve needed Nancy at her best, and so did the kids. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn't be two places at once, and he didn't trust Jonathan to be able to fight the zombies off if it came to that. 

"We ran into some feds the other day," Steve said vaguely, gesturing to his face. "Apparently, the US government has seen fit to reopen Project Indigo." 

"Bastards," Nancy said, eyes glinting.

"They thought they could study us, use us to make more kids like El.  The thing is, we were wrong about El and the other kids just being enhanced wesen kids." Next to Steve, El stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him. He wasn't crazy about telling El the truth right now, either, but if Steve's theory was right, then they all needed the context. "They were hybrids, specifically created to use the best traits of both species." 

El frowned, gaze flinching away from Steve down to the floor. "You think this Mind Flayer could be a hy... ?" Her face contorted, struggling to say the word out loud. Steve doubted it was a speech problem; El had gotten miles better at conversation, even when she had to resort to parroting people's words back to them. If anything, she was struggling with what the word meant for her. "Like me?" 

"I mean, it seemed to hate the scientists just as much as we did," Robin muttered, "considering what those zombies did to the place." 

"What does that mean for us?" Nancy asked.  

"What does that mean for Will?" Dustin piped up, from just behind El. Lucas and Max were further away now, curled up beside one of the far walls and clutching each other's hands. Dustin was already reaching for El's hand-- Steve felt himself melt a little, even under the situation. They all made fun of Dustin for his inability to read a room, but when push came to shove the kid was always there for those who needed it the most. 

"If we're right, Will has a better chance of-- Well." Robin glanced at Jonathan, frowning. "Typically, any kind of magic cast by a Wesen will fade upon the caster's death. Even hexenbiests can't cast permanent curses. If they could, entire species wouldn't exist anymore. Especially Steve's." 

"So we just need to kill this thing?" Steve was starting to like the idea of the Mind Flayer as a Wesen. It was much easier to wrap his mind around than some shadowy entity. A Wesen had a neck that he could break, a heart that he could stop. A Wesen was something he could handle, even if it kicked his ass. "Great. We're good at that." 

"Getting better everyday," Eddie sighed, a wry smile twisting his lips. 

"Wait, wait. There's no reason to think that the Mind Flayer is a-- a person," Nancy said. Her eyes darted from Steve to Robin and back, as if trying to puzzle out if they were being serious or not. "Dr. Owens knew about the Mind Flayer. Maybe... Maybe the scientists took it captive after last year and started experimenting? It would be angry enough to lash out." 

"It certainly didn't sound human when it talked to me," El said. 

"I don't think so," Steve said. He tried to remember the lab as best he could, trying to remember if he'd seen any signs of the Mind Flayer when they'd been taken through the main lab. He was pretty sure he hadn't, as all the cages had been occupied by demo-creatures, but then Steve hadn't seen any of the Wesens there until after the attack had started. McCann surely would have mentioned a giant mind control creature during his evil villain bragging session though, right? "It would have had to break out, and the zombies were definitely coming into the lab, not out of it." 

"Maybe he broke out... previously?" Dustin suggested.

"Oh, the scientists lost an eldritch monster and they just shrugged and went back to kidnapping children?" Yeah, Steve fucking doubted it. Besides, if the Mind Flayer had escaped, those assholes would have come from Will first, not Lucas or Erica. They would have absolutely used the kid to lure the creature back, no doubt about it, and Will Byers would be a missing kid. Again.

"Oh," Nancy said, shock drawing her out of her suspicion. "It was them who took the kids, then." 

"Wait, what?" Lucas said. He rose, extracting himself out of Max's grip. He still looked a little wild-eyed, but much steadier than when they had found him. Now he approached them with concern written clearly across his face. Steve winced when he thought about how close Lucas's sister had become to being one of those kids. "What kids? What are we talking about?" 

"Is that why you got taken?" El asked solemnly. "For protecting the children?"

"Listen, I will explain literally everything to you guys as soon as possible, but there is, like, so much context you're missing," Steve said. He didn't even know where to begin, or if it was even safe yet for the kids to know what they'd seen. If he even wanted them to know about how the demogorgons were created, or the horrific creatures he'd seen in cages. "Most of you don't even know what a Wesen is, really, and--" 

"I do!" Max protested. "I know what a Wesen is." 

El nodded, flushing slightly under Dustin's sharp look. "I've told Max everything I know." 

"Good. Great." Steve took a moment, pushing sweaty hair back from his forehead. No matter how useful that might have been, or how much Steve had already suspected it, he hated the idea of not being in control of what other people knew about him. It was just Max, sure, but what if-- He swallowed, and forced himself to breathe. The party needed to know the truth, at least about this. There was no avoiding it anymore. " Okay, so, Max fills everyone in on the basics, and then we can fill you in when we get back." 

"Get back from where?" Eddie asked. "We don't even know where this thing is." 

"Yeah, and it could be, you know..." Robin shrugged. "Inside any one of those freaks." 

"Well, if it is really a Wesen, it's not hard to pick 'em out of a crowd," Dustin pointed out. "We just have to get it in front of Steve." 

"We've seen people resist wogeing in front of Steve before," Robin said.

It was a fair point, given that it had been Eddie's uncle, but something in Steve's instincts told him that it was a rare feat. Wayne was special, able to stare his own sins down without flinching. That wasn't something a normal Wesen could do. Dustin agreed, apparently, as he snorted, "You think the Mind Flayer is wieder?" 

"Yeah, speaking as the only present representative," Eddie said. He frowned as he considered it. "Killing people to turn them into zombies is not acceptable under wieder law." 

"Shocker." 

"Good. Okay, great," Steve said. He was repeating himself, his brain a truck stuck in the mud, wheels spinning uselessly as it threw bullshit everywhere. "I just have to... go out there and look at a bunch of people. Easy." 

Nancy looked more lost than anything, now, and she looked between the Wesen, unsure. "How can we help?" 

"Stay with Will," Steve said. He didn't even have to think about it. It was the only thing she could do. "Wait." 

"Steve--" She began to protest. 

"No, Nancy, I'm being serious. You're the only person with a weapon; I need you to stay with Will and Jonathan," he said. He stepped forward, putting his hands on her shoulders. She felt fragile under his hands. Had he grown in the time they'd been apart? Steve could barely remember what it had felt like to be in a body loved by Nancy Wheeler, but surely she hadn't felt so small, then.  "Help Jonathan keep Will safe. Lucas, Max, and Mike can work as lookouts. Max, you have your skateboard?" 

Max shook her head, then stopped, considering. "My rollerblades are in my bag." 

"Great, so we'll set checkpoints up in the hall to the theatre, and lock the rest of the entrances out. Max will be furthest out, then Lucas, then Mike. Keep walkies on you at all times. Nancy, you stay here as the last line of defense. Jonathan keeps Will alive. Everyone else comes with me. Got it?" 

"I still don't like this," Nancy said, familiar stubborness falling back into place. 

It didn't matter. There was no way Steve was going to let unarmed kids and a woman with a gun fight a full frown Wesen with mind powers, especially not when he might have friends come along. There was a lot of things that Steve would do to win, but that wasn't one of them.

"You don't have to like it," Steve said, the only concession he was willing to make. "But Will needs all the help he can get right now, so it's what we're going to do." He only hoped that they could take down the Mind Flayer before Will changed, if that what was happening to him. Cutting off the exits would keep Will safer, but if Will became the threat-- Well. Jonathan would be the first to go, then Nancy. Steve didn't feel guilty at the relief that thought brought him; He knew they would both rather go out fighting then let the kids be taken. 

"Honestly, Nancy, just be thankful that he's letting us come," Robin joked awkwardly. 

"He wouldn't if I hadn't extorted him into it. Dumbass would just run out into the lobby alone, screaming at the top of his lungs," Eddie said, sighing. He grinned at Dustin, waggling his eyebrows at some stupid inside joke. "Real Dain Ironfoot energy." 

Steve glared over his shoulder at his friends. "Do you really think I'm that much of an idiot?" 

Dustin's face was solemn. "You don't want us to answer that, man." 

Giggling, El leaned into Dustin's side and smiled, though it was still strained and sad at the edges. "I like your pack, Steve." 

"Grimms don't have a pack," Steve said. "Neither do hexenbiests." 

Bees had swarms, though, he thought. And, presumably, Mellifers did, too. Was that what El was missing? Steve wondered if he could finally convince Hopper to loosen the reigns a little if he framed it as some mystical Wesen imperative that El needed to stay alive. If it worked, would that be enough to make up for keeping the truth from her right now? 

Eventually, the jokes faded, and the Wesen left. There was nothing else they could do, trapped in their little hidey-hole, and not much else to say. The kids exchanged tight, fervent hugs-- Nancy and Steve nodded at each other over their heads, a silent promise to keep them safe at all costs. And then they left, barely another word spoken amongst them. 

Their odd little group trudged back through the hallways, locking doors behind them as they went. They moved much more quickly than they had with the humans-- It probably helped that Steve could finally feel the soles of his feet again. It was mostly, though, the fact he didn't feel like he had to keep eyes on everyone all the time, Robin and Dustin no longer stopping every few feet to make sure everyone was still following along. Steve could feel them on the edges of his consciousness, the soft pressure of a Wesen's presence. He would have known them in the dark, deaf and blind. 

The moved quickly and silently, only stopping when they made it to the courtyard just outside Scoops. 

"Okay, super girl," Eddie said. "Where do we start looking for this thing?" 

El closed her eyes briefly, face scrunching in concentration as she tried to tune into whatever channel she saw people in. It was differnet than Steve had seen her do it before, but he wasn't about to tell a witch how to do her job. For all he knew, the Mind Flayer was blasting that shit out for anyone with a radio to hear. After a moment, though, El opened her eyes, shoulders slumping. "I do not know. I am sorry; It is hard to read. They are talking all at once, and it keeps moving." 

"Well, we already know that the Flayer wants to find us," Steve said. It wanted to find El, more accurately, but he doubted the kid needed to be reminded of that. "Maybe we just need to let him know where to go."  

"I liked life so much more when we didn't let you have ideas," Dustin groaned.

Steve ignored him, grinning. "Hey, Eddie, how much do you know about arson?" 

"Mr. Harrington!" Eddie gasped, voice full of mock offense. "Arson is a felony, you know. I would never dabble in such matters." As dramatic as he was, Eddie didn't have the talent to disguise the huge smile that had made its way across his face.

It didn't take them long to set up the bonfire. Eddie insisted it was more of a pyre, but to Steve it was reminiscent of the huge fires the older kids had made on the beach, back when he'd still been invited to summers in New England. They'd moved to the big indoor garden and just started grabbing shit, basically anything that wasn't nailed down and looked like it might burn. Loose benches, bags of trash, several stupid trees. Chairs. Couches from the fitting rooms. Robin had a lot of fun picking out pretty pink dressed and throwing them on top of the pile. 

The zombies gathered around them made no move to stop them. They just watched with foggy eyes as the pile grew higher and higher.

Steve looked up at the tower, which had quickly grown taller than him, hands on his hips. "I'm not sure I thought this through all the way. How are we supposed to put this out when it's all over?" 

"Building this big should have automatic sprinklers, if the zombies haven't fucked up the waterlines somehow," Dustin said. He wiped the sweat from his brow, having just helped Eddie haul one of the huge, fluffy rugs from the nail salon. It was heavier than it looked, probably. Robin trotted along behind them, carrying several bottles of acetone. It would probably fuck up their lungs, the walls, and pretty much everything else-- But it would keep the fire burning. "Honestly, I'm more worried about the fire not getting big enough before our friend comes out to play." 

"You think we should shut the water off?" Steve frowned.  

"I mean, I could do it, but we'd have to get there, first." Dustin's face said he didn't like their chances, much. "I don't know if Will has that much time left." 

Steve sighed, resigning to himself to whatever happened next. "We'll just have to hope the alarms are enough to get us the right kind of attention." 

The fire caught fast and spread faster. The acetone was the cause for some of it, sure, but the way it tore through the sodden first layer and into the furniture that made up the base of the tower made Steve aware that for the last few months he'd been working in a fire trap. It grew so rapidly that they could hear it, a hot woosh of wind that pushed them back. The alarm didn't even come on until Steve and the others had already sprinted out of the garden. There was a twinge in Steve's chest that he knew would have been panic if he'd had any chemicals left in his brain, a primal reaction to a fire quickly growing bigger than he could manage. The water wasn't helping much, honestly-- It sizzled a little at the edges, but it was no lower for it. 

He was glad he had stopped them from using that twelfth bottle of acetone.

The zombies more than took notice. They moved slowly towards the fire, forming a loose circle around it, trapping the Wesen in the courtyard, their backs to the flame. 

"Guards up," Steve snapped, but the zombies made no move to attack. They just moved slowly closer, their gazes unflinching under the torrent of stagnant water that fell all around them. The closer they came, the tighter Steve's muscles drew. He shifted in position to leap into a fight, and felt Eddie and Robin do the same on either side of him. El's hand was already half up, fingers curled slightly, ready to throw a spell at the first one to approach them. 

But still, no attack came. 

Eventually, the zombies came to a stop, grouped tightly around them. There was still movement, however; In the back was a restless shuffling, a parting of the tides. Steve watched it ripple towards them, saw the line cut through the circle. Someone was making their way through the crowd towards them, someone the zombies did not dare touch. He gave up on blinking, even as the sprinklers continued to douse them, water running into his eyes. 

Eventually, when Steve had begun to run out of breath, the figure broke the surface. They were obviously not human, their face covered in thin, long spikes that almost looked like whiskers. Their skin was dark green, and looked like damaged leather, pitted and wrinkled but still shining in the spray of water. Eyes much like El's stared out of their face, the sockets crinkling around nothing as they smiled. A thick, sizzling liquid dripped from their mouth as their teeth were bared. 

Steve took a short, subconscious step forward. 

"You're him," he said, certainty in his chest. "You're the Flayer." 

"I've never gone by that name," the Wesen said, with a sniff that reminded Steve of his displeased mother, "but I suppose I have no control over what the lesser beings call me." 

Steve's fists clenched by his sides, teeth gritting. "You're the one in Will Byers' mind?" he pressed. 

The Wesen's eyes met Steve's holding for so long that for once, Steve was the one who had to fight the urge to look away.

"I'm not here to speak to a Grimm, boy," he said, eventually. "I'm here to talk to my sister."

"... Four," El greeted, hand lowering. 

It had been his own theory, the Flayer being an experiment, but Steve wasn't sure he liked being right. It certainly made him less willing to kill the man, considering at one point he had just been a Wesen kid like El-- Someone that Steve's parents were supposed to protect, and failed. All the people the Flayer had killed, all the damage it had done to Will and the others, was on the Harrington Grimms' hands, too. 

Maybe it would be better to let El deal with her own siblings. Steve didn't mind playing backup again. 

"Why are you here, Four?" El asked, chin lifting in defiance. "Wasn't last year enough for you?" 

"I'm here for you, dear sister," Four said, stepping closer. Steve wasn't thrilled about that, and he could hear a little rumble start up in Robin's chest, but he wasn't about to give the okay just yet. Not until El made it clear that this was a reunion she didn't want to be a part of. "I'm not the only one of our siblings left alive, and one in particular should very much like to be reunited with you." 

Suspicion was clear on El's face. She had told Steve, months ago, about Kali and her other siblings in the city. They hadn't known El was alive until they'd run into each other, and she hadn't mentioned expecting anymore to crop up. Especially not any who had already been sniffing around Hawkins for a year, trying to kill her friends while she was away. 

"Why now?" she asked, frowning. 

"I have to admit, we were very angry with you at first," Four said, sighing. "Your little stunt with the portals almost cost us our life, but-- Well, your mistakes did bring us more power than even Papa could have imagined." 

Steve could only shrug at Eddie and Robin's confused faces. He didn't have any idea himself; El had never told him about any 'portal' incident, and definitely not one that would have boosted a Wesen's abilities. 

El grunted in frustration. "If you are here for me, why all of this? Why hurt people? Why Will?" 

Four smiled down at El, the smile on his face no less smug, though it now dripped with condenscension. And acid, still, Steve noted. That definitely hadn't stopped, either. "The world is a pyramid,  Eleven," Four said, in that smarmy, superior voice that teachers employed on a daily basis. Steve wanted to punch him a little just for that, and the impulse only grew as Four continued his impromptu lecture. "Humans, common and far-reaching as they are, are at the bottom. Wesen such as your friends here are a step above, of course, but barely more than rabble. We are the pinnacle-- The future of what the world can be. Papa has given us the world on the platter; I am only playing with what's mine." 

"No," El said, brow furrowing. "Papa was wrong." 

"Well, yes, about one thing, in particular," Four admitted. "He never should have forgotten that he himself was merely a human. A bit too full of himself, you see. Most humans are. Ask your Grimm friend about it." 

Steve wasn't sure he liked being brought into the conversation again.

"Steve--"  El tried to protest, but her brother was no longer listening. Four had instead turned his attention back to Steve, his unblinking gaze freezing Steve where he stood. He wanted to squirm out of the hold the Wesen's eyes had on him, but Grimms didn't squirm. He had to have some authority when the Wesens started preaching about enslaving the humans, or what was he even for? 

"How did you enjoy your little trip to the new lab, Grimm?" Four asked. "The humans lined you and your kin up in cages, torturing you. They've been turning their own kin into abominations. After all that, can you really say that humans are any better than animals? Think of all the children they killed, trying to crawl their way out of their own mediocrity." 

It was a good strategy. Steve could see that, even from inside the walls of the labyrinth; Four had identified the weakest link and set upon it with a pre-planned speech and several pretty decent points. Steve had the week from hell, and chances were he'd be more vulnerable to whatever manipulation Four cooked up for him. And Steve had to admit, if Four had asked for permission to kill all the scientists, or even all the humans who treated others the way McCann and his ilk had done-- Steve might have given it to him without a second thought. 

One bad week didn't make Steve forget that Jim Hopper existed, though. It didn't make him forget Nancy Wheeler. 

"Fuck off, you wax-faced pigfucker," Steve spit, blood flying from his lips.

"You are wrong, Four," El said, her voice confident and strong. "My family is human, and I love them very much."

Four sneered, his sharp teeth on full display. "We are your family, Eleven." 

"No." El took several steps back, until she was in the midst of their little group, almost hiding herself behind Steve and Eddie's bodies. 

"So you won't be coming with me, then?" Four sounded less dissapointed than resigned, as if he'd expected this and had tried anyway, despite himself. 

"I will never come with you," El swore. A wicked grin spread across her face. "Pigfucker." 

God, Steve fucking loved that kid. 

He barely had time to finish the thought before the first zombie leapt. It hit Steve full force, sending him stumbling back-- He'd let Four distract him from the rest of the enemy, and he was paying for it as his weak muscles buckled under the weight of the zombie's body. Eddie was struggling with two more on the other side, and Steve watched in horror as Four spit that green viscous fluid in El's direction, coating her outreached hand in poison. 

She screamed, in pain or in anger Steve didn't know, and the fight was on. Steve struggled back to his feet, narrowly dodging the zombie's gnashing teeth and flailing hands. Another zombie leapt on top the first one and it took everything Steve had to shove them off and roll them out of the way. Several zombies flew overhead as Four and El lobbed them at one another-- Steve was surprised to see Four show a little talent in telekinesis himself, though it was obvious from the way he moved that his powers bent more towards speed. 

Speed and zombie control, of course. Robin and Dustin were at El's back, shoving approaching zombies away from her as she lobbed flaming furniture at Four. Eddie was neck-deep in zombies himself, and the water collecting on the floor around them becoming swiftly red with blood. Steve longed once more for a blade or a bat, even the piece of rebar he'd abandoned in Billy's chest-- Dustin had learned from Steve's mistakes, making up for his own lack of strength with a large club he was using to knock zombies across the face. The zombies kept getting back up, but the few seconds was enough to keep them from tearing the kids' throats out, so that was good enough. 

As he wrestled with more oncoming zombies, Steve frantically tried to work out a plan. He'd shown up with no weapons, like an idiot, so he wasn't going to end up being much help. If anything, he was a hindrance-- Four's speed meant he could position himself anywhere he wanted, and that often meant behind a meat shield or two. The zombies were useless for that, unless there was enough to stop El's attacks entirely, but Four had no issue with using Steve or the others. All he had to do was position himself behind where they were fighting, and El would have no choice but to go closer, unwilling to hurt her allies. 

They were doing more harm than good, grouped up like this, Steve thought, but how were they supposed to get out of this clusterfuck? 

They held out for what felt like minutes, but in reality was only a few seconds, before Dustin and Robin's speed ran out. A zombie slipped through their defenses, throwing itself at El. She was quicker than it was, pivoting as she whirled a bench through the air, blocking herself from the zombie's grasp. Four, however, was faster than all of them, and the split second was all he needed to make his move. 

He sprinted across the battlefield towards El's exposed back, and Steve, ducking under flailing limbs and flying bodies, rushed to meet him. Four's hands had just brushed El's shirt when Steve met him with a shoulder to the side, sending them both stumbling to the ground. Steve's ribs protested as he rolled across the tile, the unsteady steps of the zombies around them finding every angry muscle. He tried to get to his feet, shoving broken bodies out of his way, but his head swam as he crawled his way to his knees. For a moment, Steve wasn't even sure if he was kneeling or laying, if he was looking at the floor or the ceiling. The whole world swam, Steve's stomach roiling. It was only the chill of the falling water that kept him conscious. 

Four loomed over him, a hand bunched in Steve's collar, shaking him like an unruly pup . "Give up, Grimm. It will all be over if you just stop getting up." 

"Over my dead body," Steve grit out, but it didn't sound cool like it did in movies. It sounded like it might actually happen, like a vow, and Four laughed. 

"Do you think that will be difficult? You are nothing. You are barely Wesen. What is a Grimm besides a glorified human, controlled by the House to kill its betters?" Four scoffed.  "You are going to lose, Grimm, and your death will mark the rise of a new leader." 

One of Steve's feet finally found purchase on the wet floor, then the other. His knees shook as he pushed himself up, but he was finally standing. Four didn't fight him on it, just watched him with deepening disgust, the fingers in the back of Steve's shirt tightening. 

"I don't know much about being a Grimm, so maybe you're right. I'll tell you one thing I do know, though." Steve met Four's eyes and pushed with everything he had, every ounce of authority and power he had behind it. "Grimms put monsters like you into the fucking ground." 

Four's only answer was a quick blow to the ribs with his free hand, then another. Eventually, Steve found enough strength to push himself out of Four's grip, and he stumbled backward. His body wanted to take Four's advice-- He'd thought he'd been exhausted when he'd fought Billy, but this was something else. Almost every inch in his body was on fire, and the parts that didn't weren't a relief. They felt... separate, removed, in a way that spoke of death, not health. Parts of him were dying, bit by bit, trying to keep the rest of him going. 

Steve didn't know how long he had left, but he was sure he was going to make this asshole come with him. He had to. 

They traded blows as the fight raged around them, none of the punches landing with any weight. It reminded Steve of the little boxing he'd seen on TV at Tommy's, the fighters feeling each other out with fists never meant to actually hit anything. Eyes locked, they jabbed and shoved, blows glancing, until finally Steve got one lucky hook across Four's jaw-- 

When Four snapped his head back in Steve's direction, he was already spewing a steady stream of acid. 

The Grimm reflexes kicked in, everything zooming in and slowing down in an effort to save Steve from the poison hurtling towards him. It wasn't enough. For all that El seemingly dominated Four when it came to her telekinesis, when it came to speed, Four outdid them all. Not even special reflexes could save Steve after the blow had already been made. He blocked it the best he could, ducking his head and throwing his arms up to protect his face. 

He felt it hit, immediately spattering into his hair and shoulders. It was thick, and viscous, and not entirely unlike being attacked with a large tub of garbage can Slime. Steve braced himself for the anticipated pain, determined not to give Four the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but... Steve took a breath, then another, and the pain never came. Lowering his arms, Steve glanced down-- The green almost-liquid sizzled and spat, but Steve's skin sat untouched underneath it. 

A distraction? Steve frantically raised his head to find Four, but the Wesen was right where Steve had left him, looking down at Steve's unaffected arms with as much shock as Steve himself felt. 

In spite of himself, a grin made its way across Steve's face. "A glorified human, huh?" Steve laughed, one short note that carried as much relief as it did humor. "What does that make you?" 

Four screamed in rage and charged Steve, as artless as one of his zombies. The anger had made him thoughtless and clumsy, but he was still fast, and stronger than Steve had thought he'd be. Steve had known the first punch was coming, but even as he blocked it, his entire body jolted with the force Four put behind it. 

Fueled by Four's wrath and Steve's wish to end it quickly, the fight devolved into a drag out in merely a few blows. Steve took punch after punch. Most of them were to the stomach or face, but Four's punches were wild; Shots were landing on Steve's throat, his shoulders, his chest, his hips. And Steve gave as good as he got. This was no longer a fight between a determined Grimm and a superior being bent on destruction. There was nothing heroic about any of this. They had descended further than children on a schoolyard, further than drunks in a barfight, further than 'roid raging athletes butting heads. Animals fought with more honor than this. 

They bit. They clawed. At one point, Four used Steve's hair to pull him away from where Steve had locked his jaw around the flesh of Four's shoulder. He had yanked so hard that Steve saw nothing but white for several seconds, swinging blind. 

The longer they fought, the more Steve understood something that Four had probably not meant to reveal to him: Four had never fought someone before. Oh, sure, he'd killed. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people had been victim to his powers. He'd probably even thrown a few around with his powers a time or two. But he'd never gone toe to toe with a grown man like this, maybe never even thrown a punch before Steve had pissed him off. It would have been an advantage, if Steve was only barely more experienced. If you didn't count getting his ass beat by Jonathan, Steve had only ever been in one real fight before the whole 'Grimm' thing had changed him. 

Billy had won by a landslide; Steve had the ringing ears to prove it. But in winning, Billy had taught Steve a very important lesson. At the end of the day, it didn't matter whether you 'cheated'. A real fight wasn't some stupid kiddy game. Despite what samurai movies had taught him, there was no 'honor' to a fight. There was only winning. There was only surviving. 

And that was why Steve had saved that twelfth bottle of acetone. 

Four wasn't the only person who had noxious chemicals on their side.  Well, 'on his side' was a bit of an overexaggeration, really. In fact, when Steve tossed the contents of the bottle in Four's face, most of it splashed back onto him. The liquid seeped into his clothes quickly, the odd cold-dryness immediately spreading across his skin, followed by swift pain as it burned through opened wounds. Jaw clenched, Steve forced himself to breathe through the pain, to keep the opportunity open. 

Because as much as it hurt, it was hurting Four even more. 

Even a Zauberbiest hybrid's deep, pitted eyes burned when met with acetone. Four jerked back, a yell rising in his throat as he clawed uselessly as his eyes. The momentum kept going, as if Four's body thought it could run from the pain, and Four stumbled back, unsteady. The puddles on the floor were starting to run together, every inch of the tile underneath them slick, and when Steve reached out and shoved, Four fell to the floor with a splash.

Four's woge fell. Maybe it was the shock of the impact. Maybe it was the pain. Maybe, for a moment, Four had just forgotten how badly he wanted to be anything but human. It didn't matter why, really, because one moment he was staring down at the Mind Flayer, and the next he was looking at... a man. 

Only a man. 

He was maybe a few years older than Steve, definitely not older than twenty-five-- Much older than Steve had expected of El's siblings, but younger than he had ever considered the Mind Flayer to be. His human was was smooth and pale, his chubby cheeks reduced to a slight human pudge, and sweet brown eyes singed red blinked childishly. 

The monster was gone, and in front of Steve was just a man. A man who had killed dozens of Wesen children on quest for revenge, and so many more innocent humans. A man who had his spectral hands around the throat of one of the few human beings that had given a shit about Steve before he'd found greater purpose in the Wesen world. 

Steve grabbed a fistful of Four's hair, tilting the man's head back to meet his gaze. Four struggled against his grip, thrashing against the ground. He was still partially blinded, eyes staring hateful and blank up at nothing before, with a wicked grin he woged again. The hair on his head transformed into spikes once again, piercing Steve's fingers-- But Steve was beyond pain, now. The high of victory was thick in his veins, and he was sure that the parts of his brain that told him to stop had died long ago. The needles pushed through muscle and tendon, but Steve hung on, using part of Four's body lodged in his skin as leverage. 

"If I die--" Four gasped, as Steve drug him further back, growling, "If I die, I so will everyone under my control." 

"I've looked into their eyes and found nothing," Steve spit. "Those people are already dead, and you're the one who killed them. It will be my pleasure watching the life drain from yours."

Four's voice was high with desperation, nails scrabbling across the tile, looking futilely for purchase. "And the boy? What of Will?" 

Steve snarled at the sound of Will's name on Four's tongue. "He's the reason I'm not going to lose sleep tonight. Killing you before you can get your claws back into him will be the greatest thing I've ever done." Because he was going to kill him. Steve wasn't certain of it when Four had revealed himself, but now with the monster at his feet, Steve knew what he must do. And, God help him, he was going to enjoy it.

"I have had control over that boy long before any of you even knew I existed," Four said. Blood smeared across his sharp, shark-like teeth as he grinned, manic. "You think he will survive my death? Whatever life Will has lived since coming back from the Feenwelt have been because I allowed it." 

"The what?" Anger swelled in Steve. He was so fucking sick of this; Year after year it was always the same, some asshole coming into their town to terrorize a few kids. They always spouted the worst bullshit, everyone acting like it was Steve's problem he didn't understand their psycopathic supervillan thought process. It had only gotten worse with the Wesen shit. Here Four was, Steve clearly about to kill him, and Four couldn't resist digging the knife in a little deeper, changing the goalposts and bringing up some stupid German shit again. 

Would it kill these people to name things in fucking English? 

Steve briefly fantasized about ignoring Four's warning and smashing his face into the floor once or a dozen times, but he forced himself to breath. As much as Steve wanted to make Four suffer, the chance they might lose Will wasn't worth it. Sure, a desperate man on the edge of death would make up any lie to get out of it, but Steve couldn't live in a world where he was the one who had made little Will Byers go missing again. He couldn't resign Joyce and Jonathan to suffering through a second funeral. He couldn't watch Mike fall apart, now knowing all the hurt the kid already carried. 

The moment's hesitation was enough for Four. 

A zombie caught Steve in a flying tackle, both of them falling to the ground. Two more latched onto Steve before he even had the chance to force air back into his lungs. The one on top of him had both hands on his throat, not so much gripping as much as pressing down, trying to force its palms through Steve's trachea. Another dug its teeth into Steve's shoulder, the other latching onto his hip. Steve thrashed against their hold, trying desperately to kick them away, but to no avail. They were big, fully grown corn-fed fathers turned into drooling monsters, and Steve had already begun to fade. 

He tried to breathe, the small amount of air wailing in his throat. Steve stopped struggling as his vision started to go grey, staring desperately up at the ceiling. He could see the flickering light and shadows of fire, and he focused on them as he pleaded desperately with the universe. Steve had already accepted his own death, days ago. It was a miracle he had made it this long. But he needed El and the others to be okay. They could take him, kill him a dozen times over, if the kids, if Robin and Eddie, could just make it out of this hellhole alive and well. 

Steve would accept that happily. Enthusiastically, really. 

The prayer was broken by El's desperate scream. "Steve!"

The zombies flew away from him like shrapnel into the fighting crowd around them, and Steve's body scrambled to breathe before he even registered the change. Gulping for air, he rolled onto his stomach, struggling to get back onto his hands and knees. Even without the zombies hands clamping his throat closed, every lungful was a battle. It was like the air was thinner or something, and probably not helped by how hot it had gotten in here, suddenly-- 

Steve looked up as he registered the heat on his skin, nearly collapsing in disbelief as he watched the fire rise to four times the size they had built it to be. It was climbing steadily higher, sucking all the oxygen out of the room and trading the precious air for sick, chemical warmth. And in front of it was El, her form so dark it formed a silouette in the fire's light, standing over Four. 

"El!" Steve tried to scream, but no matter how much he tried, all that fell from his lips was a raspy whisper. "El, st--" 

All Steve could do was watch Four be consumed by flame. The fire swelled, swallowing Four, El, and the surrounding zombies. Someone screamed, high-pitched and prolonged-- Steve heard Dustin shout, and then... It was over. Instantly, the fire dulled, the large room suddenly echoing with quiet as the flame retreated back to its original size. Four was gone, leaving El standing alone. Her clothes were singed and her face was covered in ash, but otherwise she was remarkably untouched by the flame she had manipulated. 

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and then collapsed onto the blackened floor. 

The zombies fell with her, almost instantaneously, like puppets with broken strings. There were piles of them, now, some still entirely human, some monstrous. All dead. A few scaterred here and there were torn apart or bleeding, those that had been stopped by the Wesen in the struggle, but the vast majority had just... followed their leader into whatever waited for him in the flame. 

Steve tried to get to his feet, propping himself up on a half-slumped body, but his legs wouldn't listen. He could barely even crawl, and that wasn't alright. That wasn't the plan. He hadn't died, so he had to get to El, make sure she was okay--

Before he could try to pull himself to her side, piles of bodies between them be damned, Eddie and Robin were kneeling by his side, all nervous words and shaky hands. 

"Steve!" Robin said, basically shouting in his ear. Maybe she was having a rough time hearing, actually, considering she was bleeding profusely from one side of her head. "Steve, are you--" 

Eddie was a little calmer. He had one hand on Robin's shoulder, but the other found Steve's. It wasn't a comforting gesture as much as it was steadying-- Steve could appreciate it, but Eddie was moving him in the wrong direction, trying to keep him on the floor. He needed to get up. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Eddie said when Steve fought against the pressure. "It's all over. Just take a second." 

"No. No, we have to--" Steve looked over to where Dustin was helping El to her feet. A little relief cut it's way through the rising panic in his chest, but Four's warning still echoed in Steve's mind. "We have to get to Will. Right now." 

"Steve--" 

"I mean it, Eddie." Steve looked up at Eddie's eyes, pinched with concern, and bit down on the urge to sob in frustration. "Right now." 

For a moment, Eddie frowned down at him, searching Steve's face for an answer to a question he hadn't bothered to ask. Eventually, he must have found whatever he was looking for, because he nodded and moved his hand. Looping his arm around Steve's waist, he looked to Robin. "Help me with him," he said. "Dustin, you got El?" 

Dustin, who had El practically draped across his back, looked almost offended at the question. "Yeah, of course." 

It took them too long to make it back to the little hidey-hole they'd created in the hallways. Steve could barely walk, only able to limp along when held up between Eddie and Robin. It probably would have been easier for Eddie just to carry him, probably, but after the chill from his soaked clothes set in, Steve was grateful to have their warmth. Dustin, remarkably unharmed, huffed and puffed along with El on his back. Even when she woke up, he refused to stop to sit her down. Instead, she buried her face in the back of his neck and held on, pretending not to cry. 

It didn't feel like a victory. It wasn't just the exhaustion that had overtaken Steve and El, or how unspeakably cruel it felt to help each other pick their way through and over the dead bodies that littered the mall. A dour mood had settled over the pack, all of them picking up on Steve's anxiety. Steve hadn't explained himself, really, and the kids weren't even supposed to know something was wrong, but-- Steve had to believe that Four was lying, if he wanted to keep going. If he said it out loud, the belief would evaporate. 

When they finally made it to the Scoops entrance to the hallways, Dustin let El stand on her own two feet. She jogged ahead of them slightly, too tired to run, using what little power she had left to force open the doors they'd locked behind them. When they finally made it to the break area, she and Dustin both took off in a desperate sprint, eager to confirm their friends safety with their own eyes. 

"Will!"

The humans looked up, terror written all over their faces-- Terror that did not fade when they saw it was their friends in the doorway, not a horde of zombies. All the humans had grouped themselves around the makeshift bed that held Will. Will, who was still unconscious, looking much paler and still than they had when they had left him. 

"Steve--" Nancy began, her face tinged gray with the beginnings of grief. Jonathan couldn't even look up at them, so overwhelmed by his own sorry. 

"No," Steve whispered. His entire body went lax with shock, almost slipping from Robin's grip. "No, we fixed it-- We were supposed to fix it--" 

"He's alive," Nancy said. Her voice was shaking as she spoke, though, belying the reassurance in her words. "He's still breathing. He-- He's still breathing, Steve." 

Steve made a small noise, almost a whimper. 

"Help me sit him down," Eddie whispered to Robin, and they both guided Steve to sit on the floor, propped against a wall near Will. Nancy drifted reluntantly away from her boyfriend's side, hovering between him and Steve. Her eyes roamed over all of them, their damp and dirty appearances, lingering on the mess of Steve's right hand and the fresh blood that covered the older three. 

El had rushed to Will's side immediately, and was now clinging to his limp hand, tears streaming down her face. She sobbed silently, leaning against Mike, but the boy was strangely disconnected from her sorrow, staring down blankly at his best friend. Dustin, however, kept a hand on her back, even as he leaned against Lucas's shoulder and spoke to Jonathan. 

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," he said, solemnly. "I thought--" 

"Did you kill it?" Jonathan asked, voice rough. His gaze narrowed sharply on Steve. "Did you kill the Mind Flayer?" 

"... Yeah," Steve rasped.

"Good." 

El ignored them all. "I'm sorry, Will," she sobbed. Steve didn't think he had ever seen her cry so hard; She kept losing her breath in the middle of the words and starting over, gasping for air in the middle of sentences. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I'm sorry." 

"El--" Steve tried to get up. She needed him, she needed someone who could put their own emotions to the side and hold her. He needed to be able to stand, needed to be strong for the kids--

"Steve, no," Eddie hissed. The arm around Steve's shoulders tightened, keeping him on the floor. On the other side, Robin clung to his arm like a limpet. "Come on. You're a mess, dude. Just sit for a fucking second."

Steve looked down at himself and realized he was bleeding all over the floor. The new bite marks bled sluggishly, of course, but the worst of it came from the gunshot wound in his thigh-- At some point the wound had reopened, and he had long since bled through Hopper's sweatpants. Probably not a great sign that he couldn't feel it, huh? 

Robin made a tutting noise as Eddie took Steve's hand into one of his, cradling it gently as he slowly rotated it to observe all the damage. They were both strangely disconnected from the tragedy before them, and though Steve could vaguely recognize that it was mostly out of respect for those that actually knew Will, there was something comforting about it. Between them was a little pocket of reality where the world hadn't just ended, where Steve could hide and not drag his broken body across the floor to try and fix it all. 

Eddie dragged a tentative finger down Steve's wrist, and Steve leaned into the arm around his shoulders. He was trying not to look completely lovesick about the whole thing, especially since he could barely feel it through the jumble of signals his brain had put on mute. Judging by the unimpressed look Robin was giving him, he was failing. Either that, or she was mad that he'd almost died again. Had died again? Was dying? He really had to do more reading about this Grimm shit before the next supernatural asshole showed up. 

"You completely fucked your hand, man," Eddie said, the casual roughness of his tone at stark contrast to how gently he was handling Steve. "I don't know if you're going to be able to even use this anymore." 

"His hand?" Robin sputtered. "Look at his leg!" 

"Yeah, but his fucking tendons--" 

Steve sighed, slumping further into Eddie's grip. "I guess I better hope that Grimm healing factor isn't just a myth, huh?" 

"Steve Harrington is making jokes using the word 'healing factor'," Eddie whispered to Robin, conspiratorially. 

Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's the weirdest part of this week, definitely." 

"I mean the good news is, if he loses his hand, we can get him some real Wolverine claws." 

"Can we?" 

"I mean, I know a guy." 

Steve tuned them out, eventually, once their back and forth passed beyond the realm of his curiosity. He was so tired, and it was so easy to tilt his head back against Eddie's arm, the crown of his head barely skimming the wall. He took a few deep breaths, and was dismayed to find that his eyes were closing without his permission. He wasn't unconscious, not yet, but he was on the edge of it, floating somewhere beyond the waking world. He could hear the soft mumur of his friends' voice, a stray sob here and there-- Felt the warmth of Robin and Eddie's bodies, Robin's heartbeat against his shoulder, Eddie tracing patterns into unbruised skin, Eddie's hair tickling his cheek, Eddie-- 

Steve jolted awake when the door flew open with such force that it banged against the wall like a gunshot. He blinked blearily up at Hopper and Joyce, unable to get his eyes to focus. He'd apparently recovered a little while he'd dosed; Enough to get the feeling back in all his nerves, at least. Every inch of him fucking hurt, and it was making his head swim-- It was a good sign, but not one that he was particularly grateful for, given that it was making him process everything five times slower than he had previously. Luckily, Joyce and Hopper had no time to take notice of the three broken teens half-sprawled on the floor. 

The moment there was a real adult in the room, the kids swarmed them, tears and voices overlapping each other until Steve winced away from the cacophany. He wasn't entirely sure what was said, his over-sensitive ears ringing, but Hopper didn't wait for a real explanation before he was stepping forward to scoop Will up in his arms. Steve didn't even have time to pull himself away from Eddie's side before the man was gone again, Will in tow. Max and Lucas sprinted after him. 

Joyce looked to her son with wide, teary eyes. "Jonathan, what--" 

"It was the Mind Flayer," Jonathan said, voice thick. "It's back. Or, well, it was. Steve and his friends took care of it, but--" 

"How? How did this--" Joyce paused as her eyes found Steve. There wasn't much room for shock on her face with all the grief and anguish, but he saw something horrified flicker through her eyes for just a moment before she turned back to her son. He must have looked worse than he thought. "Wasn't the government supposed to have this under control? What about Dr. Owens?" 

"Dr. Owens is dead," Steve said, dully. "His replacement was kind enough to introduce himself a couple days ago." 

That finally caught Joyce's attention permanently. "What happened?" 

"The Mind Flayer, it--" Steve winced. The guy was an asshole, yeah, but he was still a person. It felt wrong to still refer to him as a monster. "He... He was an experiment, like El. I guess whatever... cloud you saw, before, was just some kind of extension of his power. But the real guy showed up here today, tried to get El on his side. We took him out, but there wasn't-- I mean, it was--" Steve huffed. As far as he knew, he wasn't concussed, but the fog in his brain was just as bad as his last had been. Words kept floating away from him, leaving him with nothing but gestures and a vague shape of meaning. "Will wasn't a zombie yet, but it was too late. Apparently." 

"A z-- A zombie?" 

"Uh, yeah. Four-- the Flayer --he took over a lot of the people in the mall. There's bodies... Fuck, there's bodies everywhere," Steve said, thinking back. Now that he was on the other side of it, not rushing to see if Will was okay, the amount of human lives lost made him kind of sick. "Killing him took them all out, but it... It hurt Will, too."

He was careful not to mention the Wesen part of it all. He knew it wasn't a secret they could keep from her forever, especially considering that Nancy and Jonathan knew, but as far as Steve was concerned, that was up to El. Steve barely spoke to Joyce, and if she had a problem with non-humans, it wouldn't be his life that got fucked. If El wanted to tell her, fine. If she didn't, then Steve wouldn't be the one to bring it up.

"It is my fault, Joyce," El said, quietly. She was still standing next to the makeshit bed, leaning against Dustin as she hugged herself. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd been crying the whole time Steve had slept. "I should have known it wasn't safe. I'm sorry. I did not mean to." 

For a moment, Joyce looked like she wanted to do what she always did-- That she would pull El into a big hug and promise her it wasn't her fault, and that it would all be okay. Just for a moment. But the moment, passed, and Joyce's eyes did not warm as they filled with tears. Instead, she just offered El a small, sad smile. 

"We'll fix this," she said, eventually. "Will is strong. We can fix it." 

El looked even further devastated, and Steve-- Steve continued to swallow his grief and anger. There was no use being mad at Joyce for blaming El when her son might be dying. If anyone here was to blame, it was him, but he could have that conversation with Joyce later, when this was all over. He needed to clear the fog from his head so he could focus on helping Hopper with damage control. 

He struggled to sit up, wincing as the motion pulled at wounds that had barely closed. "I need to talk to Hop." 

"You should see--" Eddie began. 

"A doctor? While I'm being hunted by whatever's left of the US government? Nah," Steve said, shaking his head. "I need to see Hop. Can you help, or am I going to have to crawl out there myself?" 

Robin and Eddie exchanged a glance. Eddie was frowning, obviously not a fan of how this had developed, but Robin merely shrugged at him. Then, wordlessly, they both stood and helped Steve to his feet. Thankfully, the walk to the parking lot was much shorter than the walk from the courtyard had been. For one, Steve could finally feel the soles of his feet again, though he still had to use Robin and Eddie as crutches. For another, Hopper and Joyce had evidently done a little cleaning up on their way in, shoving bodies and debris out of the way to clear a small path through the theatre and out through the double doors. 

Steve frowned at Billy's body, barely pulled behind a pillar across from the entrance. God, he hoped Max hadn't seen that. 

Hopper's cruiser was parked just behind the ruined crush of Eddie's van. He'd placed Will in the backseat, and Max and Lucas were next to him talking a mile a minute, although their voices fell when they saw the three Wesen limping their way towards them. Hopper looked up, surprise filtering across his face as he registered Steve's presence for the first time. 

As they drew closer, that surprise became more and more grim, until Steve was being glared down up close and personal. 

"What happened to y--" 

"Grimm stuff," Steve said. His eyes flickered towards Will's pale face, and then away.  "I was a little late to the party. I'm sorry." 

"None of this is your fault, kid. Look at you. Jesus Christ. What the fuck?" He sounded horrified, sure, but also confused-- Like he hadn't even known a person could walk around this broken. 

"Yeah," Steve sighed. He'd been getting that a lot. "It's been a long week. But, listen, I gotta--" 

Hopper cut him off, clearly distracted. "Is that you, Munson?" 

"Uh, yeah." Eddie shuffled awkwardly next to Steve as Hopper then turned to squint at Robin, too. "Hi, Chief." 

"... Okay," Hopper said slowly, when he realised that Robin, at least, wasn't one of the many town troublemakers. Unlike the other two idiots in front of him. "Alright. Listen, Steve, this Grimm stuff-- What's that got to do with Will?" 

"The Mind Flayer and I were working the same case, apparently," Steve explained. "Will got caught in the crossfire."

"The Flayer is a Wesen?" Hopper asked, blanching.

"One of El's siblings. I had no idea it was him, though-- I only showed up when Will called us for help. The scientists, though, they were involved." Steve hesitated. He still didn't love the idea of sending Hopper off on a wild goose chase, but they had long since passed the point of reasonable omission. It was time to come clean about everything. He had, after all, promised Eddie he would ask for help. "The experiments have started up again, Hop; I don't know how safe Hawkins General is going to be for Will. For any of us." 

The rest of the party finally joined them, El immediately glomming onto her father. Jonathan, quiet in his grief, climbed into the backseat of Hopper's cruiser with his brother, holding the unconcious boy to his chest once again. Steve made himself look away. Joyce approached Hopper with crossed arms and a resigned expression. 

"How fast do you think you can get us to the ER, Jim?" she asked. 

Tension filled Hopper's face at the question. On any other day, the answer would have been fifteen minutes, especially with the lights on. Now, though, with the entire US government potentially looking out for anyone connected to the Upside Down? Well, the prognosis didn't look great. Sure, they could still get Will to the hospital, no problem. It might mean, however, that they were putting him directly into the hands of whoever it had been that had signed off on McCann's fucked up experiments. 

Will dying was something to be afraid of, sure. But Steve had gotten pretty friendly with concept of torture, lately, and he honestly had to say Will being tortured indefinitely was a lot worse, as far as potential futures went. 

Before either of them could figure out how to say that in a way that wouldn't turn a terrified mother into a murderous one, though, Steve was distracted by the sound of an approaching car. No, not one car-- The crunch of tires on the asphalt was slow, but as Steve tilted his head towards the highway, he realised there was at least half a dozen. Strangely uniform, too. If cars could march, he'd think that was what they were hearing. 

As he peered into the swiftly dimming horizon, though, no cars pulled into the lot. 

"Jim--" Joyce began, but was cut off by Steve's quick intake of breath. 

There they were. The party watched in silence as seven slick black cars pulled into the parking lot, slowly moving bumper to bumper towards them. It looked like a funeral procession, or maybe one of those weird parades they put presidents in, Steve thought, though in his gut he knew those cars were here for him. 

"The feds founds us?" Eddie asked, anxiety already high in his voice. 

Dustin apparently agreed, and he darted away from his friends to put his body inbetween Steve and the cars. Which was sweet, really, but Steve wasn't sure what a thirteen-year-old Eisbiber was supposed to do about the CIA. 

"Dustin, get behind me," Steve sighed. He was really hoping he wasn't going to have this conversation again for at least a week. It was beginning to become tedious, constantly reminding people that he was meant to be the first and only line of defense. 

"I'm not letting them take you again, Steve." Dustin was doing an excellent imitation of Eddie, all protective growls and determined frowns. Sure, it looked absolutely ridiculous on his sweet little face, but the passion was there. 

"Steve, what the hell is Henderson talking about?" Hopper hissed. 

The first car finally slowed to a stop right in front of their little group. After a moment, the back door opened. 

A man stepped out. He was wearing a black suit, extremely plain but well-tailored, the kind of non-descript that spoke of money and intention. Other than that, Steve couldn't really describe anything else about the man. Steve could see him, sure, but he couldn't focus. It was just a glimpse, and then Steve's eyes would naturally move along, like water on glass. Even after looking with intent, Steve couldn't have remembered the man's skin or hair color with a gun to his head. Everything about the man was foggy and vague, other than that fucking suit. 

Frustrated and more than a little terrified, Steve stared at the man-shaped blur with determination, his glare centered where the eyes should have been. The man sighed, and then Steve felt, rather than saw, the man make deliberate eye contact with him. The woge was stranger than most, and not just because it was making something out of nothing. The other woges Steve had seen had been rather minimal changes when it came down to it-- A few minor quirks to appearance, some extra hair. Even Four, who had the most dramatic change, had been recognizably human when it came down to it. 

The Wesen in front of him was something entirely different. It had three heads, for one. They sat on elongated necks that sprouted from one thick central base atop his shoulders. Every inch of him was covered in black scales that thrummed with some sickly energy, and six pairs of red eyes gazed down at Steve even as they wept a thin purple liquid. 

"A hydra," Eddie breathed, sounding ecstatic.

"An Eiterblut," Robin corrected him. 

Steve ignored them both.

The man drew his human form back up as if the Woge had never happened, politely ignoring Steve's forceful 'greeting'. "Steve Harrington, I presume?" he said, extending a hand towards Steve. 

Steve hesitated for a moment before nudging Dustin out of the way and accepting the greeting. The man's hand was warm and dry, and his shake was firm but brief-- Exactly the kind of interaction that would have Harrington Senior lecturing Steve for hours on the importance of a good handshake. Steve was almost tempted to hate him because of it, but he pushed the impulse away. There were probably plenty of much better reasons to hate someone who rolled up driving a Crown Vic to a murder scene. 

"And you are?" he asked. 

"My name is unimportant," the man said, exactly the kind of thing assholes like this always said. "We are merely a messenger here on behalf of my retainer, King Lothar, head of the Seven Houses." 

What kind of fantasy bullshit was that? 

Behind him, Robin stiffened in fear, practically vibrating with the nerves suddenly radiating from her. Dustin still hadn't moved from his awkward place in-between them all, and Eddie had hunched a little, like he was prepping himself to go back into attack dog mode. Steve had obviously missed a lot of context in that sentence; He remembered Robin mentioning something about Wesen royalty a time or two, but it had never really seemed relevant enough to him to ask about it. 

He was starting to regret that decision. 

"We apologize for not introducing myself under better circumstances," the nameless man continued, ignoring the party's reactions to his little revelation. "We must say, however, that we did not expect you and yours would become so... involved in our little problem. We would have been here sooner ourselves, but we only started receiving reports about the zombies yesterday, and we hadn't time to properly investigate. As for children, well... we had been under the impression that your parents were taking care of it." The man's eyes narrowed, and through the fog Steve could see the glint of something sharp. "We certainly hadn't expected you to be the one running things when we showed up." 

"Oh. Um. I'm sorry," Steve said, awkwardly. For all the ways he had expected this Grimm thing to go terribly, he hadn't had covering for his parents on the list. It had been a long time since anyone had actually bothered to ask where they were; Most of Hawkins knew by now that the answer was 'anywhere else'. Steve felt like a child again, lost and floundering for whatever answer would make the adults leave him alone the quickest. "They're... out of town, at the moment." 

"I must say, waiting until your jurisdiction is under extreme duress is odd timing for a romantic vacation." The man's tone was casual, but Steve didn't buy it for a second.

"They've been out of town for... a while, sir." 

Steve got the distinct impression that the man wasn't impressed-- Not with him, and definitely not with his parents. Honestly, once Steve had a nap, he might be a little offended. Steve wasn't sure what jurisdiction this King Lothar guy actually had in Indiana, but if he really was the ruler of all Wesen, why hadn't this guy shown up earlier? Forget the missing kids, where the fuck was he when Wesen experiments started running amok in Hawkins, killing scientists and kidnapping little kids? It was more than a little ridiculous to then turn around and blame it on the Harringtons. 

Sure, Steve was pissed at them for ignoring all that, too, but they were his parents. Not to mention he'd been the one actually helping to clean up after all this shit. If anyone was allowed to be angry, it was him. 

Not that he said as much. Despite his less than stellar track record, Steve did have some concept of diplomacy. He did straighten his spine as much as his tired body would let him, though, staring down his nose at the man in typical Harrington superiority

"It's fine, though. Sir." The respectful title felt like sandpaper in his throat. "I handled it." 

"Indeed you did," the man said, and for the first time something approachign warmth could be heard in his voice. "We must admit, Mr. Harrington, you have done us a great favor, taking out that deformed Cracher-Mortal. It could have developed into quite an issue for the local House. Because of this favor, King Lothar is willing to overlook any oversight on your parents' behalf, as well as... any other experiments that may or may not be residing in Hawkins."  As if to remark on who that might be, the man let his eyes linger on El for a long moment.

"It is with my utmost respect, however, that I tell you that your part in this is done, Grimm Harrington," he continued, before shifting slightly to address Hopper, instead.  "We can take care of the rest. Chief Hopper, we are happy to take over as liason to the government, although we do not mind setting up a new contact for you. It saddened us very deeply to hear of Dr. Owens' passing, but it is better to be safe than sorry. His replacement will be contacting you in the morning, as well as a contact within King Lothar's court. We trust you will not abuse the privilege." 

"A contact to... the King?" Hopper asked. The words sounded awkward on his tongue; If ever there existed a person absolutely anthetical to fairy tales and monster kings, it was Jim Hopper. And yet here they were anyway.

"The King has several Grimms under his own employ," the man explained, a concept which sent shivers down Steve's spine. That was not a group of people anyone should piss off. "Should there be a Wesen that Grimm Harrington cannot handle under his own power, they will merely be a call away." 

Steve did not miss that his parents were not mentioned at any point during that. That... was a problem that could be ignored until they came home.

Probably.

"With that being settled, we believe it will be safe for the injured members of your group to proceed to the hospital," the man said. "All care will, of course, be paid for by the King's treasury."

Steve had to admit, he was a little impressed. A little impressed and a whole lot of stunned. He wanted to ask the guy what was in it for him and King Lothar, what they would be expecting from him in the coming days. It occured to him, though, that maybe he had already done it. He'd stopped Four before the problem had gotten even bigger, but none of what had happened had been particularly subtle. That was going to be a problem for any organization that wanted to keep the Wesen a secret, and Steve had the sneaking suspicion that King Lothar was very, very into keeping secrets. 

So they were doing damage control, exactly as the government had done the years before. A bit more generously, maybe, but then-- None of them had as much to offer as a Grimm on call would have, did they? Not with El in hiding, anyway. They were doing this because they wanted to keep everything that had happened tonight a secret, but also because they were hoping Steve would do it again. The realization left Steve equal parts smug and terrified. 

As if following some silent cue, the rest of the car doors opened and people started pouring out, heading toward the mall in one group of black suits and plain, forgettable faces. 

"While it was a pleasure to meet you all, we really must be going," the man said, with a smile so unremarkable that Steve could not remember if it actually had been a smile as much as a grimace. "So much to do before sunrise. You understand." 

He handed Steve a business card that immediately became nearly unreadable with blood and dirt. 

"This is our personal number. We are not as skilled as our compatriots in the art of combat, we do offer our services in... cleaning up, for our highest performing Grimms," the man said, all but confirming Steve's suspicions. "A word of warning, however: We would not recommend sharing this number with anyone." 

He didn't need to tell Steve who he meant.

"Uh... yeah, okay." 

There was no name on the card. The man walked away, stopping briefly to talk to another man who had stood waiting by the first car. The man did not seem to have the same foggy confusion in the air around him; Steve could clearly see him-- He was a tall, elder Black man, wearing a starched blue shirt and simple jeans. His eyes were on Steve, even as he had a rushed conversation with the first man, and Steve felt himself turn away on instinct. 

The human members of the party seemed to shake themselves out of their stupor as Steve turned back to them. Nancy's eyes were sharp, almost suspicious, but most of the party had settled into a confused awe.

"There's a king? Why did no one tell me about a king?" Max demanded. 

"Wait, Steve, are you like... a knight?" Even Lucas, who had grown too mature for the make believe games the kids played, sounded a little excited by the idea.

"I can't believe no one told me that Steve was important! To royalty!" Max insisted, whirling to face El. "How did no one tell me about the royalty?" 

Lucas leaned forward, eyes bright. "So, like, do you have house colors or a standard or--" 

"Who gives a fuck?" Mike interrupted, voice hot and angry. "Genuinely, who gives a shit about Steve Harrington right now? Will is hurt. He could be dying." 

Shame crept up the back of Steve's neck. "Mike--" 

"No, fuck you guys!" Mike said, whirling on him.

"Hey, kid," Eddie snapped. "I know you're freaked out, but lashing out at your friends isn't gonna solve the problem. Breathe, shithead." 

It shouldn't have worked. If Steve had said it, it definitely wouldn't have. But from Eddie Munson, the words at least drew Mike back for a moment, blinking for a moment in shock.

"Who the fuck are you?" he said, after a moment. 

"I am Eddie Munson, blutbad and Steve's lorekeeper," Eddie said, with a dorky little bow that Steve absolutely didn't find charming.

"That is not becoming a thing," Steve said, because he had to draw a line somewhere. Besides, Eddie didn't know shit about fuck, when it came down to it. If anyone was their lorekeeper, it was Robin. Steve doubted she'd find the title any cooler than he did, however. 

Eddie shrugged, pivoting his introduction. "Leader and DM of the Hellfire Club, at your service." 

"You run the highschool D&D club?" Mike asked. His bottom lip quivered. 

"I do indeed." 

"... Will was so excited to join next year." 

Eddie's face softened. "We'd love to have him. Both of you."

"Alright," Hopper said, speaking over everyone. "Since that... happened, I'm taking Will and the Byers to the hospital." 

"Can I come?" Mike asked, immediately forgetting about Eddie and his club. 

Hopper's eyes wandered over to Steve. "I was thinking maybe Steve should go, seeing as--" 

"No, no. I'll be fine," Steve said, shaking his head. He'd made enough of tonight about him, and his body had proven that it could more than take the abuse. It hurt like a bitch, sure, but he wasn't going to die anytime soon. Hell, maybe he didn't even need a hospital. Maybe he'd just lay in bed for a month or two and see what happened. "Mike can go. I'll find another ride." 

"Well, you'd have one now if you hadn't run it through an army of zombies," Eddie grumbled, eyeing Steve like he was aware of just what the Grimm was trying to wriggle out of.

"You can ride with me?" Nancy offered. "The minivan is still running." 

Apparently, Eddie didn't like the glint in her eyes anymore than Steve did. "Actually, I was about to call my uncle," he said. "He'll be fine picking us up. You run on home, Wheeler." 

Steve wasn't sure if it was a great idea to just wait around in the parking lot with all these Wesen milling around, but he definitely didn't relish the idea of being alone with Nancy and the one thousand questions she probably had for him. If she wasn't interrogating, then they'd probably just start fighting again, and Steve was already wiped. Yeah, no, that could wait until he'd had at least twenty-four hours of sleep and a metric ton of ibuprofen. 

"Yeah, Nance. I'll be fine," Steve said. "Wayne is good people." 

With a quicksilver smile, Eddie jogged off the nearest payphone. Steve propped himself on the hood of a nearby car, watching Hopper and the Byers' pile into the cruiser along with all three human kids. As much as it hurt, it was better than acknowledging the stand off Nancy and Robin were currently having. 

El and Dustin crowded around Steve, one on either side of him, and he sighed. 

"Why didn't you go with your dad, kiddo?" he asked El. She didn't answer, only leaned his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. That was answer enough, he guessed, and pulled her close. 

They all watched Nancy storm off in a huff, finally giving up after something Robin had said. Usually, Steve would have been a little more concerned about that, but all he could think about right now was the muscles finally relaxing in his shoulders and back. It felt so good that it ached, and Steve could only hope that meant that this week from hell was over. 

"When you are better," El said, mumbling, "you need to tell me the truth." 

Steve frowned at the pavement. "I never meant to keep anything from you." 

"I know. You do not lie to me. But-- You hide things when you think it will hurt." She looked up at him, eyes so big and brown it broke Steve's heart a little. "It hurts worse that way sometimes." 

"I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. "What do you want to know?" 

"The scientists took you?" El asked, looking as if she might start crying again.

"Yeah." 

"Then tell me what happened. What they told you." She pressed her ear against his heartbeat. "The parts where you and I meet." 

"The moment I can feel all my fingers and toes, I'll tell you everything you wanna hear," Steve promised. 

Steve wasn't crazy about bringing the rest of the party in on the Grimm stuff, but he couldn't keep anything from El. The Wesen community was as much hers as it was anyone else's, and she was the only person with a right to know what he'd gone through in that lab. Of course, thinking about what he'd learned about El and the other experiments only made him remember all the secrets they'd uncovered about the demogorgons and other creatures-- He resisted the urge to groan out loud. Nancy absolutely deserved to know the truth about Barb, and the Byers should probably know about the origins of the Upside Down after everything with Will. 

And, of course, he'd have to explain how he got the information, and where, and why he was there in the first place, and-- It would be so much easier to keep a secret, Steve decided, if you could just lie a little. 

"We should probably just go ahead and decide what we're going to tell the humans, anyway," Steve said, eventually. "Hopper can know whatever he wants, but the rest of them..." 

"Can I be invited?" Robin asked. "I'm not sure I love the idea of Nancy Wheeler knowing anything about Wesen. She's too curious for her own good. If she pokes me even once, I'm going to bite her." 

"Of course you're invited. You're one of us now, aren't you?" Steve said. 

They were going to have to tell them everything, of course. Steve hated the idea of it more than anyone, but he couldn't figure out how to talk his way out of it. The last thing he wanted was to explain to the humans what a Grimm actually was, have them-- have Nancy --know what it actually meant for him. For Steve. It was one thing to not be human, and another entirely to be born a killer. 

Steve had found some modicum of acceptance in his Wesen friends, but he wasn't sure how a human would see it. Would they dismiss it without context, like Hopper had? Or would they know immediately, like Steve had known, that his instincts made him the least human of all the Wesen he'd met so far?

He distracted himself by shouting at Eddie, who was currently making his way back from the payphone."Eddie! Damage control meeting once I stop bleeding all over myself. Be there or be square." 

"Oh, wild horses couldn't keep me away," Eddie said, grinning as if he actually meant it. "Wayne says he'll be here, soon, by the way." 

Steve squinted at him. "You guys live on the other side of town." 

"Who knows, he might break even more traffic laws than you did tonight." 

"Oh, haha." 

"Anyway," Eddie said, leaning against the side of the car, arms folded. "He wanted me to tell you that he's proud of you." 

"He..." Steve squirmed. "He doesn't even know what happened." 

"Well, I told him that you saved everyone, obviously," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "That was basically all that mattered." 

Robin had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Steve wished that she hadn't chosen right then to grow a filter.

"I didn't--" Steve stopped to clear his throat. "I didn't save anyone. Everytime I showed up somewhere, everyone was already dead. And Will..." 

"I know you must feel like shit right now, Steve. I'm not going to pretend it was a perfect ending. But you gotta know you did an amazing job, right? I don't know anyone else that could have pulled that shit off. You, too, Supergirl," he said, raising his voice so El would hear him. "Fantastic work in there." 

El smiled, small and sad but still a smile. Steve couldn't help but think about all the people Eddie had probably saved by just being Eddie, and how many more he will. Steve had differen't ideas about who the real hero was, but he would keep quiet for now. 

Bored by all the sappiness, Eddie clambered up to the roof of the car, cajoling Dustin to follow him the whole while. 

"What are you two--" Robin jogged towards the car, flapping her arms. Steve wondered if she was trying to make herself look bigger, like some sort of angry goose. "Hey, you know this car belongs to someone, right?" 

"Some dead guy, probably," Dustin said, so bluntly that Steve couldn't help but snort. 

"Respecting the dead includes not vandalizing their car with your fat ass!" Robin shrieked. 

El giggled. 

Steve finally looked back towards the Vic Crowns. The man was still there, staring at him-- And he woged. They weren't close enough for the eye contact to force it, but still the change settled on his face as quickly as Steve had commanded it. The Wesen was large and draconic, but oddly familiar, as if Steve had known a son or a nephew-- 

A stray foot kicked Steve in the shoulder. At some point, Robin had half-climbed the car, determined to pull Eddie off of it, and the whole thing had devolved into an extremely unskilled wrestling match. Neither of them were winning, yet somehow Steve was losing.

"Ow, fucking--" He dodged another misaimed swipe. "Jesus, guys, did I not have enough bruises?" 

"Oh, stop complaining Mr. Healing Factor," Robin said, muffled through Eddie's hair.

"I died today!" Steve protested. "I died today, I am exempt from bullying--" 

"That was yesterday, actually," Robin informed him, primly.

"He's really gonna milk this dying thing forever, huh?" Eddie said.

An explosion cut through the squabbling, and all five of them turned to watch as, bit by bit, the entire Starcourt Mall caught fire. 

"Dude," Dustin said, voice quiet in the sacred majesty of the orange glow. "I think we forgot Erica." 

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks as he draws up at his own door.

Harrington lets out a long sigh. “Uh, yeah, just–” He shakes his head. “Apparently if you get your code wrong too many times in a row, the keypad locks you out. And you can’t get into your quarters. Which is… great.”

“You forget your code?” Eddie can’t help but ask.

“No,” Harrington snaps, then softens a little, looking sheepish, even a little embarrassed. “No, I just– sometimes the numbers get a little jumbled.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna have to go find someone from maintenance to reset this and let me in, so…”

“Nah, don’t bother. You’ve got in-built tech support right here.” Eddie gestures for Harrington to move aside and crouches down in front of the keypad to reset it; doors and security locks aren’t technically his remit, but it’s not like they’re hard. It’s the work of moments to get the keypad to unlock, and Eddie shuffles back out of the way. “Go ahead and try it now.”

Harrington steps up to the keypad and slowly punches in the six-digit code that should get him into his quarters, and this time, instead of beeping angrily and flashing red, it chirps and gives him the green light. His door slides open and Harrington sighs.

“Thank you,” Harrington says, turning a smile so bright on Eddie that he momentarily forgets how to function. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, t’weren’t nothin’,” Eddie says for some insane reason, slipping into a ridiculous accent like he does when he’s running tabletop games in the rec room with a couple of other guys from engineering.

If Harrington thinks he’s being weird, he mercifully doesn’t mention it. Instead, he sticks a hand out towards Eddie, still smiling. “I’m Steve, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, taking the hand to shake (Steve’s hands are big, and strong, and warm, and Eddie tries not to think about it).

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. And not even for the obvious reasons,” Steve says, nodding towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says.

He then realizes that he’s still shaking Steve’s hand. He lets go, but Steve is slow to draw back. They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure how to end the encounter, before Steve lets out a little huff of a laugh.

“Well… have a good night,” he says, backing away towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says again, wondering where the hell all his eloquence has gone to.

With one last dorky little wave at Eddie, Steve disappears inside his room, and Eddie does the same.

They talk more, after that. Whenever their schedules coincide, they spend an extra few minutes outside their doors, learning more about each other, bit by bit. Eddie talks about why he’d joined up with a starship even though he really hates space (he’d had to get out of his small-minded hometown), and Steve talks about how he’d ended up really enjoying his work even though he’d only joined to appease his dad (captain of another ship, one Steve prays he’ll never, ever be assigned to).

Their conversations edge past five minutes, past ten, past fifteen. Eddie talks about his uncle, who taught him at least half of everything he knows about fixing things, who had encouraged him to reach for the stars. Steve talks about his best friend in the galaxy, who works up in communications and speaks “about a million languages.” He mentions that they’d met as ensigns, both stationed on the U.S.S. Butterscotch, but he doesn’t say much more than that (and Eddie won’t make him; he knows the story already. The ship might have had a ridiculous name, but the fate that had befallen it had been anything but: it had been taken over by hostiles and eventually gone down in flames. The number of survivors had been abysmal, and fact that Steve is here at all is a small miracle).

Steve learns that Eddie loves music and roleplaying games. Eddie learns that Steve has a knack for avoiding medical staff after altercations planetside and for brushing off minor-to-moderate injuries.

He’s not as good at avoiding Eddie, however, who makes a point of dragging him down to medical one evening after spotting a still-bleeding gash on Steve’s arm.

“One of these days, you’re gonna come back with something you can’t walk off,” Eddie warns him, “and I’ll be there to say I told you so.”

“Well, as long as you’re going to be there, I guess it won’t be so bad,” Steve replies, and Eddie tries not to be swayed by the flirting.

When Eddie turns out to be right, though, he doesn’t even have the heart to say I-told-you-so, which he feels a bit cheated about later.

The evening starts out so promisingly: Steve and Eddie are loitering outside their doors, Steve gravitating further and further into Eddie’s space as they talk, and Eddie is just about to pluck up the nerve to invite Steve inside when Steve’s communicator goes off.

He frowns, pulling it from his pocket to check the message, and his demeanor immediately turns serious. “I have to go,” he says, and apprehension prickles at the base of Eddie’s skull.

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Steve offers Eddie a brief smile. “We can pick up where we left off as soon as this is taken care of.”

Eddie wants to ask just what “this” is, but he finds out soon enough. The promising evening turns into a hellish night with too little sleep and too many hits to the machinery for comfort, under attack from some unknown, hostile force. When things finally calm down and reports start rolling in, things aren’t as bad as they could be. No casualties, minor damage to the ship, and minimal injuries. It sounds reassuring, until Eddie finds himself standing next to Steve’s bed in the infirmary.

“I’m going to be fine. Stop looking at me like that,” Steve says, even though his eyes are closed and he can’t possibly know how Eddie is looking at him.

And the thing is, Eddie knows he’s right – Steve might sound an awful lot like he’s in pain right now, but the medical tech on the ship is top of the line, and the staff is equally good. Steve will be fine, but that doesn’t give Eddie any comfort right then, realizing how lost he would feel without his and Steve’s hallway conversations every day.

How lost he would feel without Steve.

It scares him– for a moment, it scares him enough that he wants to run from it, to put a halt to things before they get too serious, before this really hurts him. But even more than that, there’s a feeling greater than the fear: one of rightness when he’s with Steve, a feeling that’s worth the risk, that’s worth holding onto.

Eddie reaches out and takes Steve’s hand where it rests on the bed.

Steve cracks his eyes open to look at Eddie.

“You know…” he says slowly. “They said I should be fine on my own by tomorrow, good to go back to my own quarters, but– I’d feel a lot better if there was someone nearby. Just in case.”

“Like someone right next door?” Eddie asks, a tease of a smile beginning to grow on his face.

“Maybe a little closer than that,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own.