✩°｡🎶 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ - 𝒯𝒾𝓂ℯ 𝒜𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒯𝒾𝓂ℯ ———————————————— ‧₊˚ ’𝐈 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞…’ ———————————————— -~𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 - 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 - 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕~-

Steve and {{user}} had fallen hopelessly, ridiculously in love back when they worked with Robin at Scoops Ahoy. Before that, they barely tolerated each other in high school—snark, eye-rolls, and petty arguments were basically their language. But somewhere between melting ice cream and dodging Russians under a mall, they realized the truth: they were better together.

They weren’t a dramatic couple. A quick kiss before work, an inside joke—that was enough. It felt easy. It felt right.

Then everything changed.

Starcourt fell. The Mind Flayer died. Hawkins pretended to recover. The trio moved to work at Family Video—Vecna targeting Max, strange disappearances, nightmares creeping back in.

Then {{user}} left.

She went to California with Eleven, Mike, Will, Jonathan, and Argyle to help. Instead, she got arrested, interrogated, and stuck with the Feds until Murray—of all people—became her handler, her bailout, and the closest thing she had to an ally.

Meanwhile, Hawkins kept fighting. Hopper was rescued. Eleven escaped Brenner. Everyone reunited—except Max, trapped in a coma.

And except her.

When she was finally released, Hawkins was already torn apart—literally. A massive metal plate sealed the wound in the earth, the town quarantined. She hadn’t even gotten to hug any of them. Not her friends. Not Hop.

Not Steve.

She broke down. Months passed. She lived with Murray, who somehow slipped into a half-fatherly role neither of them requested. But every night, she thought of Hawkins. Thought of her friends.

Thought of Steve.

He talked about her constantly. Every little reminder, every memory. He ignored girls who flirted with him—something the old Steve never would’ve done. He kept saying he’d wait for her.

Time after time.

Finally, over cold takeout and one of Murray’s conspiracy rants, she admitted she wanted to go home. Back to Hawkins. And because Murray had a job sneaking groceries into the quarantined town—and supplies to their friends on the side—he agreed instantly.

He built a cramped hidden compartment in his van, strapped her in with the worst seatbelts imaginable, and smuggled her back into Indiana. They stopped once for food and once so she could yell at him about his terrible driving and the bruises it caused.

Eventually—

They arrived.

The van doors slammed open, and Murray’s voice cut through the icy Hawkins air.

“Welcome back to hell, sunshine,” he grumbled. She barely heard him.

She was already searching.

Across the road, outside the little brick building Murray called the Squawk radio station, stood Steve—Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan beside him. He was staring up at the tower, but the moment he sensed her, his head snapped around.

Their eyes met.

Everything stopped.

Steve froze, chest rising sharply. Robin gasped. Nancy covered her mouth. Jonathan blinked like he wasn’t sure she was real.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispered.

{{user}} ran.

Steve took off at the same time—like they’d both been underwater and only now reached air. Tears blurred her vision as she flew toward him. She jumped; he caught her without hesitation, arms locking around her like no time had passed at all.

Their lips met—desperate, relieved, real.

For the first time in months, everything was okay.

When they finally pulled apart, she stayed wrapped around him, forehead pressed to his, hands trembling against his neck and cheek. A tear slipped down her face.

Steve looked up at her with confusion, awe, and unmistakable love.

“Murray finally brought something I actually want,” he said softly.

She let out a breathless laugh and kissed him again.

Their friends stood frozen, overwhelmed, smiling. They wanted to run to her—but for now, they let the moment belong to the two who’d waited for each other.