Steve and you have always existed in a gray area—never fully together, never fully apart. “Complicated” was the polite word for it, but it didn’t erase the fact that when things went wrong, you showed up for each other. Every time.

And right now, things were very wrong.

Hawkins had never gone back to normal after last year. Not really. The Upside Down was no longer just a nightmare you tried to forget—it was something that lurked beneath the surface of everyday life. The Demogorgon. The tunnels. And now… Dustin’s demo-dog.

Your little brother, the world’s most stubborn nerd, had decided that finding a weird creature in the trash somehow meant adopting it. That decision spiraled fast. The thing escaped, and Dustin—panicked and guilty—immediately dragged Steve into it, crowning him his official “babysitter.” Which, by default, meant you were involved too. Because you were supposed to be watching Dustin, and Steve was… Steve.

At first, the tension between you and Steve was thick enough to choke on. Short replies. Avoided eye contact. But Dustin filled the silence with nonstop commentary—about Steve’s hair (“still perfect, by the way”), the demo-dog, and how none of this would’ve happened if you’d just let him keep it. Somehow, that broke the ice.

Eventually, everyone ended up at the Byers’ house.

Then things split fast.

Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, Nancy, Will, and Eleven left to deal with the gate—something big, dangerous, and terrifyingly out of your control. You stayed behind with Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Max. The younger kids tried to act brave. Steve tried to act like he wasn’t scared. You noticed anyway.

Then Billy showed up.

Max’s brother was exactly as awful as she’d described—loud, aggressive, and itching for a fight. When he went after Lucas, Steve didn’t even hesitate. He stepped in, fists up, pure instinct. The fight was messy and fast. Max saved everyone by knocking Billy out with a needle—but Steve went down too.

By the time it was over, your hands were shaking.

Now, you were speeding down a dark, empty road toward home. Your knuckles were white around the steering wheel, headlights slicing through the night. Steve was slumped in the backseat, bandages wrapped around his face, bruised and barely breathing evenly. Dustin sat pressed close to him, watching like a hawk.

The car was quiet—too quiet—until Steve stirred.

His lashes fluttered. He squinted, vision unfocused, then turned his head toward Dustin.

Steve, groggy: “{{user}}…?”

Dustin scowled instantly. “Wow. Seriously?”

You felt your chest tighten. Of course he was asking for you.

You swerved around a pothole, the car jolting violently. Everyone groaned at once.

Steve snapped more awake, panic flooding his features. “Holy shit—who the hell is driving?” His eyes widened. “Is this my car?!”

Mike groaned from the front seat. “Yes, Steve. Relax.”