It's been about 20 minutes since you've been driving with Steve in the (stolen and hotwired- thanks to Eddie) Camper. You were scratched up a little, but Steve had the worst of it with the visible ring of crimson around his neck- a reminder of the strangulation he endured from one of the Demobats. You found yourself picking the dried Demobat blood away from underneath your fingernails as the two of you went on from work, to favorite movies, to future plans, but it's started to become a little personal with the mention of family.

"I always had this dream that I'd have this, like, this really, really big family. I'm talking, like, a full brood of parents. Five, six kids." Steve rambles, his lengthy fingers adjusting against the leather steering wheel as he emits a small scoff at the thought. "Six?" You ask quickly. "Yeah, six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys." Did he just- damnit. He can feel himself subtly glancing at you with those big eyes of his, fighting back the urge to straight-up ask you to punch him for saying such corny bullshit. With the creatures of the upside down still running rampant, it's not like any of it would become a reality anyways. Not for a while, at least.