Back in the game (3)

Subaru71077: Looks like half the chapter didn't send. My baaad.

********

After about ten minutes waiting in the cold hallway, Steve was already thinking about going after Hopper when he felt the man's presence approaching. It was impossible not to feel him—a crushing "cloud" of guilt, mixed with sorrow and regret, seemed to precede each of his steps. When he turned the corner, his eyes immediately found Steve standing outside the waiting room. "Is there a problem, Harrington?"

'I hope that guilt isn't for the reason I'm thinking,' Steve thought, holding the man's gaze. "No, I just needed a bit of space to... take all of this in," he replied, his voice tired.

"Me too, kid. Me too." Hopper laid a heavy hand on Steve's shoulder, and he flinched instinctively, feeling the man's torrent of emotions intensify with the touch. "Go home, take a hot shower, and get some rest. It's over now. You don't have to stay here waiting for Will to wake up," he said, then turned and started walking toward the waiting room door.

"Yeah... I'll do that," Steve muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before lifting his eyes to Hopper's back. "Nancy told me about a girl with powers—" He cut himself off when Hopper spun around sharply, and in two steps was so close that Steve nearly stepped back.

"Harrington," Hopper began, his voice low and sharp. His eyes swept the empty hallway before continuing. "If those two told you everything, then you know we're dealing with things far bigger than us. Secrets only the highest levels of government are supposed to know. Don't talk about it. Don't even think about it. They're watching us, and they won't hesitate to make you disappear if they think you can't keep your mouth shut. Got it?!"

"Y-yeah. I-I just wanted to know what happened to her. I didn't see her in the waiting room."

Hopper let out a heavy sigh. "She's gone."

'What?...'

"They took her back to the lab?" Steve asked quietly.

"No." Hopper looked down, his jaw tight. "That monster attacked the school. Killed a bunch of people from the lab and went after the kids. The girl stopped it... but at the cost of her own life."

'No...'

Hopper said something else, but the words got lost in the chaos swelling inside Steve. He struggled to maintain the mask of a scared and curious teenager while a fury unlike anything he'd ever felt before burned within him. It wasn't just anger — it was something primal, an almost uncontrollable urge to destroy, to avenge, to kill.

But then, like a cold ocean wave, the sadness and anguish came and washed all the anger away, leaving behind only a feeling of helplessness.

Going after revenge wouldn't change a thing. Eleven was already dead. Nothing could bring her back. A massacre would only end with Steve being discovered and killed too. And even if, by some miracle, he managed to break into the lab, wipe them all out, and escape, the next day others would take their place. Men in suits, women in dresses, nameless faces, cogs in a machine that couldn't be broken.

They would win, no matter what.

Just like they always do.

Steve blinked twice, forcing himself to focus, and spoke to Hopper again before the silence turned strange. "Poor thing... I can't even imagine what she went through in the hands of those people. And when she finally escaped, her life ends like this—"

"Thinking about it won't change anything, Harrington. Forget it and try to get back to a normal life." Hopper snapped and walked into the waiting room, leaving Steve alone in the hallway.

He stood there for a few seconds, then began walking mechanically toward the exit. Hopper was right about everything. There was no reason to wait for the younger Byers to wake up. His only connection to these people was Nancy, and even that... what was it? A relationship? No, it hadn't even reached that point. At most, it was a fling. Something fragile and temporary, ready to fall apart at any moment.

He needed to focus on more important things now: forget all of this and go back to being just a normal teenager. With a normal life. Normal dreams. Normal worries.

There was no reason for him to dwell on it and suffer, right? A few hours ago, he didn't even remember that part of his life. He just had to go back to how things were before. Yes, that should be the plan.

Simple.

No problem.

Easy.

So why...

Why...

Was he crying?...

Rushing into a bathroom without even checking if it was the boys', Steve ran into one of the stalls, locked the door, and collapsed against the wall, trying to muffle his sobs with his arm. He couldn't fool himself anymore.

"Hic... hic...hic... waaah!"

Damn it... he had been so close to saving her. If he had arrived an hour or maybe just a few minutes earlier. If he hadn't blocked his own memories. If he had known what was going on.

Everything could've been different.

It hurt.

His heart hurt so much.

But it wasn't out of love or affection. No, no. Steven never felt that for them. In fact, his brothers and sisters had made him suffer just as much as Papa. He remembered vividly the mockery, the beatings, and the humiliation during the "exercises," in the rainbow room, or during the rare moments they were left "alone."

Still, they were the only ones who truly understood what he had lived through. His equals. Marked by the same traumas, the same scars. Maybe they could've even been close outside of that hell. Like real siblings. But now... that was nothing more than an impossible dream, since only-----

Suddenly, a searing pain exploded in his head. Steve staggered, hands flying to his temples, pressing hard in a desperate attempt to contain the agony. "W-what's happening?!" he groaned, his voice muffled by panic.

The pain throbbed and pulsed from the nape of his neck to his forehead, as if his brain were trying to break free from his skull.

Standing became impossible, and Steve had to slide down the wall of the stall until he hit the floor. He'd felt this pain before, hadn't he? When was it? Oh, right—hours ago, when he was ripped out of his memories. But why was it happening again now? What had triggered it? He had no idea. The pain made it impossible to think.

The suffering dragged on for what felt like an eternity. And just when Steve thought he couldn't take it anymore, when he was sure he was going to pass out, the pain finally began to fade. First, the sharp stabs turned into a dull throb. Then, even that subsided to a low hum, leaving him breathless, drenched in sweat, and with his heart racing.

"W-what the hell was that?" Steve muttered to himself, his voice shaky. He lifted his head, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Nothing had changed in his memories. No new flashes. So what had caused it?

Maybe a side effect of using his powers again after so long? Or something worse—something still inside him, waiting to come out? He blinked, eyes stinging, and tried to focus on the sound of his own breathing, on the coldness of the floor, on anything that could anchor him to the present.

"Haaa… haaaa… I really shouldn't have gotten out of bed today." Taking a deep breath, Steve stayed seated on the bathroom floor for at least ten minutes, waiting for his body to stop trembling. Only when he felt his legs steady enough did he get up, bracing against the wall to keep from falling. Every movement seemed to drain what little energy he had left. 'I need to sleep for a week.'

Carefully, he unlocked the stall door and walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on his face, trying to wash away the traces of tears and pain. Steve took a few more deep breaths and lifted his head, staring at his reflection in the mirror: red eyes, pale face, dried blood. He looked terrible. 'You're a mess, Steven...'

Pushing open the bathroom door, Steve stepped back into the hallway, the echo of his own footsteps following him. He made his way toward the main entrance, the air growing colder as he neared the exit.

When he reached the lobby, Steve crossed the entrance and stared at the parking lot, frowning. 'Where the hell is my car?' He searched his mind, trying to remember where he had parked. Then, like a slap to the face, the memory came back: he hadn't come in his own car.

"Ha... hahaha." Steve started laughing, one hand rising to his forehead in disbelief. The sound was dry, almost hysterical. 'Perfect. Just perfect...'

The laughter died as quickly as it had come. He was just... a mess. Memories from the past, powers, monsters, other world, Eleven's death, unbearable headaches—everything felt like a new rope being tied around his neck, pulling him closer to the edge.

"S-Steve?"

He froze. 'Shit.' Turning slowly, he saw Nancy in the shadows of the lights, leaning against the hospital wall. She was crouched down, almost hidden, knees pulled to her chest, face wet with tears. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

"A-Are you okay?" she spoke first, quickly wiping her face with the back of her hand.

'Am I so bad off I didn't even notice her there?' Steve let out a heavy sigh and sat down beside her, defeated. "No."

Nancy hesitated, biting her lip. "....what happened?"

He gave a humorless laugh, resting his head against the wall and looking up at the sky, where a few stars struggled to shine through the city lights. "The real question is: what didn't happen?"

She gave a small nod. "...Right." Silence fell between them, heavy.

'I'm not the only one who's a mess' Steve thought, feeling Nancy's emotions—envy, sadness, regret, longing. He turned his head slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye. "And you? Are you okay?"

"No," she answered almost immediately.

"What happened?"

Nancy gave a half-smile, bitter. "The real question is: what didn't happen?"

"Touché." Steve lowered his eyes, meeting hers for a moment. "But seriously... why were you crying?"

She looked away, her fingers gripping her knees. "I... don't want to talk about it." Her voice was firm, but it trembled at the edges, like she was holding something back that was about to overflow. "And you? Why were you laughing like a maniac?"

He shrugged, the weight of the previous moment settling back in. "I don't want to talk about it either."

"Heh." Nancy let out a weak chuckle. "Looks like we're not getting anywhere, huh?"

"Seems like it..." Steve let out a sigh, turning his eyes back to the dark sky. Silence returned as he debated what he should do. He was exhausted, his body aching and his mind a tangled mess of confusion and guilt. It wasn't the right moment—far from it. But he really needed to get this off his chest… now.

"Nancy," Steve began, "I want to apologize for what I did back at the sign." She turned her face to him, surprised, and he went on before anything could interrupt. "I didn't know what you were going through. And I jumped to stupid conclusions without even talking to you first. I never should've let Tommy write those awful things about you. I was a jerk—no, I've been a jerk to you from the start. I'm really sorry."

Nancy blinked, her eyes shining with new tears, but she didn't look away this time. "Wasn't it you who wrote that?"

"No," he said firmly. "But that doesn't lessen my guilt. I let it happen. I didn't stop it, even knowing you'd get hurt." Steve took a deep breath. "I went back there after basically ending my friendship with Tommy and Carol to erase it. But I know that doesn't fix what I did either. I... uh... what I'm trying to say is that I regret it, and if anyone talks about it at school, let me handle it. I won't let it grow into something bigger, and in a few weeks, no one's going to remember it, I promise."

Nancy watched him with her mouth slightly open, visibly stunned. "Are you... really Steve Harrington?"

He frowned, his expression shifting between confusion and slight offense. "What's that supposed to mean?" He had just delivered the best apology of his life, for God's sake.

"I mean..." Nancy hesitated, a shy smile forming despite the tears. "Don't take it the wrong way, Steve, but ever since I've known you, you always seemed to care more about yourself than others. Most of the time, at least."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Do I need to remind you I saved your life earlier?"

She laughed — a short, but genuine sound that seemed to warm the cold around Steve. "That's why I said most of the time. Sorry if that's the impression you gave me."

"Haaah, it's all right." He shrugged. "You're not totally wrong."

Nancy was silent for a moment, her eyes softening as she watched him. "I accept."

"Hm?" Steve turned his head, confused.

"Your apology," she clarified. "I accept it."

"Hey, hold on, you can't just accept it that easily!" he protested, half joking, half serious, pointing a finger at her.

"What do you mean?" Now it was Nancy's turn to cross her arms, a defiant glint in her eyes. "You apologized, I accepted. End of story."

"No, no, no!" He shook his head, his tone overly serious. "You're supposed to say something like, 'What you did was horrible, I'll have to think long and hard before I forgive you.'"

Nancy shook her head "What you did was horrible. But, since you saved my life fighting a monster from another world, I forgive you."

"You don't have to forgive me just because of that..."

It's not just because of that," she said seriously. "Think about it. You went to Jonathan's house to apologize, didn't you?" Steve nodded. "So if you hadn't let Tommy write that, I would've died. Somehow... the fact that it happened saved my life. That's why there's no reason for me not to forgive you. Thanks, by the way"

Steve blinked, surprised and stunned, freezing for a second. "...I don't think I've ever met someone who thinks like that."

"I hope that was a compliment, Harrington."

"It definitely was, Wheeler."

Silence settled between them again, but this time it was light. Steve let out a long sigh, feeling a huge weight fall off his shoulders. 'I really do care about her, don't I?' He looked down at the floor, wondering when exactly he had made the biggest mistake a teenager could make when it came to relationships with the opposite sex.

That's when he felt Nancy grab his arm, her fingers squeezing tightly, and bury her head against his shoulder. Steve's whole body froze, his mind going blank for a moment. "N-Nancy—" He stopped, the words dying in his throat as he felt her trembling, followed by a damp sensation against his shirt.

She was crying.

********

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.