#the buckley parents are shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morganski-19 · 3 months

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 10: Neglect

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 9

cw: brief discussions about food/appetites, discussions of child abuse (if it wasn't obvious from the chapter title)

December 1983

“Did you hear?” Mary whispers into Julie’s ear as they walk down the hall. “There’s a rumor going around that a girl is seen walking around the woods over by Denfield.”

“It’s just another ghost story,” Julie dismisses as she gets to her locker, switching out her textbooks.

“Well, duh.” Mary emphasizes. “I was just telling you because you live right by those woods. You might see her.”

Julie turns to her best friend with a blank expression. “I don’t believe in ghost stories. Especially ones that are made up by middle schoolers. You know they’re just messing with people. Probably to get poor kids to a place where no adults could see to throw rocks at them or something.”

Mary sighs and leans against the lockers. “You’re right. But like, let me know if you see any ghosts or something.”

“Yeah sure,” Julie says sarcastically, not believing the latest rumor. Ever since that kid came back from the dead, it’s a constant thing. Apparently, there were a few other unexplained disappearances and deaths during the same week. It all started a giant conspiracy that something was wrong with Hawkins. Something bad.

Obviously, there was something sort of wrong. A kid did go missing, and a few other people died. This is a small town, things like this just don’t happen. At least not often. But when they pulled that kids body out of the lake and then he showed up in person, alive, a few days later. That made this more unique than the run of the mill kidnapping or murder. It made it a ghost story.

Julie felt bad for the kid, she saw him getting picked on just for being alive. Not his fault that he got kidnapped, or that the sick fuck who did it decided to fake his death. He didn’t deserve to be branded just because he lived. But something was off with Hawkins, and everyone knew it. Or they were fine living in their own delusions that this small town is just like every other one in America. Perfect, conservative, and peaceful. Even if it was anything but.

When Julie gets home, she stares at the woods through her bedroom window, rolling her eyes when she thinks for a second that maybe she should go in and see what the rumor was about. It’s stupid really. It’s all just fake. She’s not gullible like that.

But then just as she turns away, there’s a small flash of something moving in the woods. Against her better judgment, she believes in the rumor mill just a little bit. The figure comes back, just a little beyond the tree line. What looks like a girl Julie’s age, wearing a ratty old dress and a coat too big for her.

Eyes catch Julie’s through the window and the girl runs away. Looking all too real to be ghost. Juile grabs her coat from the front door as she runs around the trailer, right to the tree line to see if she can find the girl.

“Hello,” she yells into the woods. “Is someone there?”

She feels stupid, of course there wasn’t anyone there. The echo of her own call being the only response signifying that. But for a second it all seemed so real. She didn’t seem like a ghost.

Something was wrong with Hawkins, and Julie knew that. Maybe one day she’ll figure it all out.

. . .

Present Day, December 1986

Steve pulls himself awake, drenched in a cold sweat and heart pounding. Lungs heaving with quick, short breaths as his body stays in its panic. Eyes darting around the room to find something, anything to show him that it was fake. That it wasn’t real.

The nightmare still wrapped around his chest, right where the scars litter his torso, making his breaths feel constricted. Making his body feel tense. There’s nothing here to loosen it. Nothing to break him free. Nothing to show him that this isn’t real.

Phone. Steve can use the phone. That works wherever he is, here or there. It might not work well, but it will work just enough. He grabs it as the tears still fall down his face. Dialing the only number that he can think of. The only one that might break him out of his spell.

Because he just needs to know their alive. That he did save them in this universe, instead of leaving them to die. That they were still here.

The phone rings for what feels like an eternity. Only echoing the anxiety running through his veins. Each second without someone on the other line only proving to him that they are really dead.

“Hello,” Eddie’s groggy voice comes through the line.

“Eddie,” Steve says with breaks in his voice. Any other words getting stuck in his throat.

There is rustling over the line before Eddie talks again. “I’m coming over. When I hang up, call Robin so you have someone to talk to, ok. You remember her number?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know her number.” It’s a stupid question to ask in any other circumstance. But reality is shifting an uncertain right now, numbers aren’t the most important to think about.

“Good. I’ll be there in ten. I’m here Steve, I’m alive, you’re alive.”

Steve takes a few long, heavy breaths. “You’re alive,” he chokes. “I’m alive.”

“There you go, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead, and Steve’s heart can’t help but pick up again. He stares at the numbers on the phone, typing in each digit of Robin’s number carefully. When the line rings again, he’s stuck in the same loop of waiting. The same damn loop of waiting.

“Buckley house,” Robin’s says half asleep.

“Rob,” is all Steve can get out again.

“Steve.” Her voice awakens with concern. “How bad is it, do I need to come over?”

Steve shakes his head, feeling how tense his muscles still are. “No, no. Eddie’s coming over. Said to call you while I waited for him.”

“Well don’t give him the credit, I made the system. How bad?” she asks again.

“There’s nothing here to tell me this isn’t real.” His eyes shoot around the room again, finding nothing that reminds him of his home.

“Shit,” Robin whispers. “I thought this might happen. But it’s ok. It’s not real, Steve. Your mind is playing tricks on you. You’re in real Hawkins, in your bedroom. Julie’s right across the hall, and Eddie’s on his way. And I’m right here. Not physically, but that doesn’t matter. Do you understand?”

Her words slowly work their way into his head. Not enough to fully calm him down, but something to start slowing down the beating of his heart. “Yes.”

“Ok, good. Do you want me to keep talking?”

“Yes.”

Robin fills the silence of his room, his house, with a bunch of mundane nonsense. Mixed in with affirmations that he’s ok. But anything to get his mind away from where it is. To break the cycle of thoughts that keep replaying in his mind. Slowly his breath starts to calm, but his guard it still up. He doesn’t know what can pop out and get him in the dark. Doesn’t know what dangers are still there.

He hears the front doorknob rattle before it opens and shuts. Hears the soft footsteps up the stairs. The shadow of Eddie as he enters Steve’s room and closes the door behind him. Steve crumbles into him as he sits on the bed, letting Eddie take over.

Eddie carefully takes the phone from Steve’s hands, pulling away his fingers from where they’re holding it in a death grip. “Hey, Rob. I’m here now. Yeah, I got him. I’ll call you when he falls back asleep. Yeah, talk to you soon. Thank you, bye.” He awkwardly reaches over Steve to hang the phone back on the receiver.

Pulling Steve so he’s resting on Eddie’s chest, right over his heartbeat, he starts the routine. Calming words, naming what’s in the room that’s different. Repeating over and over again that he’s alive. That Steve’s alive. How they’re safe in right side up Hawkins, not the upside down. Slowly but surely bringing Steve back from his nightmares, back from his fears. Grounding him in reality.

The tightness in his chest slowly relieves and the beating of his heart slows to match Eddie’s. With every breath Eddie takes, Steve takes one, holding it as Eddie holds it until exhaling. Focusing on the sensations in Eddie running his fingers through Steve’s hair, rubbing a hand in circles on his back. His mind slows, and everything finally relaxes.

“Thank you,” Steve finally says.

Edde presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Anytime. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It wasn’t even that it was bad. It was normal. There was just nothing to bring me out of it.” Normally he could see the plaid on his walls, trace the lines with his eyes around the room to see the differences. To see that there weren’t vines. But they were gone.

The plaid was gone.

Steve sits up again, the panic he was just relieved from finding its way back under his skin. Eyes darting around the room to the plain walls, everything changed. He changed it. Steve changed it. Without permission. Just because he wanted to.

“Steve, what’s wrong?”

What are his parents going to do when they come home to see this? What punishment is he going to face? What can he still face? He’s an adult now, not a child. There’s not much that they can do. But that didn’t matter. It never mattered.

“The walls. I changed the walls.”

Maybe they’ll ship him off to some college that they paid his way into. Maybe they’ll force him to work for his dad’s company.

Maybe they’ll finally kick him out.

“Yeah, we painted them two weeks ago.”

He can’t afford to get kicked out. Not now. Not when Julie depends on him, depends on him for having this house. He can’t lose her too. Not when he’s done so much to keep her in his life. In his home. What is going to happen to her if he no longer has a home for her to live in?

“I wasn’t supposed to change them. Not without permission.”

His heartbeat pounds in his ears again. Mind reversing back into the memories of his childhood. Hearing how the drawings were ripped off the walls. Shame gaping a hole in his chest, remembering his mother’s scolding. Fear bubbling underneath his skin that was long forgotten or learned to ignore.

A warm hand envelopes his, Steve almost flinching away. But it warms his cool hands, slowly bringing him out of his head. Slowly, his eyes blink awake, and his body relaxes. The adrenaline retreats and his ears stop ringing. He can hear again.

“Steve, you’re ok. Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Eddie’s voice registers. The soft tones calming Steve more and more.

The room widens from where it was closing around him. His breath deepens. In and out. In and out. His eyes close, centering himself again.

“Not while I’m here, while Robin’s here. We’re not going to let them hurt you again.”

Steve’s eyes flicker open, looking around and naming what he sees. The curtain. The desk. The picture frame on the desk. The open closet door. The dresser. The shirt hanging out of the dresser. The walls. The walls that he painted. The walls that he now loved.

Squeezing Eddie’s hand, he turns away from where he was looking, finding the comfort in Eddie’s eyes. Feeling so lucky that he can look into them and feel this way. To feel this loved. How sad he was in a time where no one ever looked at him like this. How lonely he was then, and how full he feels now.

Eddie takes his free hand and runs it along the side of Steve’s neck, thumb tracing his jawline. Leaning in to press their foreheads together, taking a deep breath that Steve mirrors. Steve’s hand finds Eddie’s side, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. They sit there for a long time as the moon light streams in through the open curtain. All that was once wrong feeling right again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie whispers into the silence.

Steve takes a deep breath, running the hem of Eddie’s shirt between his fingers. “There was a day when I was in elementary school. I don’t remember what grade exactly, but I had brought home an art project that I loved. I wanted to hang it in my bedroom, so I got the tape and did it myself. My parents were actually home then, and my mom came into my room. She saw the picture, and ripped it off the wall, ruining it. Only things she approved were supposed to decorate the house.”

Eddie presses his lips into a thin line, no doubt keeping a million thoughts he really wants to say in his head. Steve would let him though. He was never able to truly say what his parents were like, not really. Typical asshole parent talk was normal for teenagers, but this was a different level that was almost unspoken. It was kept a secret, but Steve didn’t like secrets anymore.

But instead of saying anything, Eddie pulls Steve into a hug, cradling his head against his chest. Holding him in a way that no one ever did, Steve letting himself just melt into it.

“I hate your parents,” Eddie says with a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“I hate them too,” he whispers into Eddie’s chest. “I hate them so much.”

. . .

Julie walks over to her lunch table, seeing Max and Jane returned to their spots. They’ve been eating with the boys the last few days, and it was pretty clear the reason was because of her. She yelled at them after all. Well, not physically yelled, but definitely snapped. She was mean, meant to be mean.

It was out of a place of hurt, she knew. Last week was rough, to say the least, and that day especially. Everything around her felt like an attack, when really it was just her looking for things to fire at. And so, she shot at the only two friends she’s had since the ninth grade.

Now it was her time to apologize.

“Hey,” she said while placing her lunch down on the table. Pulling out food, stomach grumbling at its contents. Actually hungry for once, wanting to eat.

“Hi,” Jane said with a smile, but she always did that.

Max nods in her direction, but says nothing, going back to eating her food. Julie takes a bite of her sandwich, letting the silence ruminate around them. Uncomfortable silence. One that means there’s something that’s been left unsaid.

After a few minutes, she’s done replaying what she wants to say in her head. Can’t help but feel like it’s not enough, but it’s something. Julie’s done a lot of something in the past few months, nothing ever feeling real or right enough. Life feeling just a little less full than it once was, because it was true. But as she finishes a normal sized sandwich for the first time in weeks, and still feels hungry enough to eat a small bag of chips and an apple, something might just be right enough.

Right enough to take a few steps forward before taking a step back again. Progress was progress, but it wasn’t linear. At least according to the pamphlet that she was given in the first few days of her mother’s death. Then, nothing felt like it could have gotten better. That the first big hill of progress could never be reached. And while she still doesn’t think that it has, there are little bumps along her path that shouldn’t go unnoticed. Days where the world feels lighter, and the sun in a little brighter.

But before she can even say anything to make up for the lows of last week, Max starts talking.

“Look, I’m sorry for bringing up your mom a few days ago. You’ve gone through a lot, and it wasn’t really our place to, so I’m sorry. We can forget about it and just go back to normal.”

Julie is taken aback, taking a second to think of a response and scrapping whatever she was preparing before. “I was actually going to apologize for snapping at you.”

“You were going to apologize to us for that,” Max says, appalled.

“I mean, yeah,” Julie shrugs. “You guys were just trying to help, you didn’t deserve me being mean just because I was having a bad day.”

Max sits back in her wheelchair, crossing her arms and looking at Julie with her clouded eyes. She opens her mouth to say something, but Jane cuts her off.

“I do not think you need to apologize to us. When I thought my dad had died, it was a lot. And I was angry. Max was angry when Billy died, too. We understand. We are just sorry that we brought it up at a bad time.” She stares at the cookie in her hands, breaking it apart in small pieces as she talks.

“I didn’t know that your dad died,” Julie says softly, not quite sure what else to say.

Jane presses her lips together. “He didn’t really die, I just thought he did. You know Chief Hopper, how he disappeared for almost a year, and everyone thought he was dead. He is my father.”

“I’m sorry, that must have sucked.”

“When Billy died, it was different,” Max says quietly. “He made my life a living hell. I wasn’t sad that he died, really, I was sad that he died while we still hated each other. I wondered what it would have been like if we had become friend, real siblings. He saved my life that night of the fire, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I didn’t try to save him back.”

A tear rolls down her cheek, Max quickly brushing it away. Jane grabs Max’s hand and gives it a squeeze. Two friends who have gone through more loss that Julie realizes. Pain that mirrored hers in a way. Pain that she understood, like they understood hers. And while Max lost a brother that she hated, and Jane got her father back, that didn’t diminish the grief that they felt.

“What I’m trying to say,” Max continues, “is that we know what you’re going through. Like actually know. Even if it is different. So, while we’re not going to force you to, you can talk to us about this.”

Maybe Julie did want to start talking about it. More, at least. With someone other than Steve, even though that helped a lot. Talk with people who knew what it was like to lose family, to lose people they loved. Julie finally felt ready to talk about it.

“My mom died in the beginning of October. Car crash. I was in foster care until three weeks ago when I moved in with Steve.”

While the pain is still there, still pinches at her heart like it always does, a sort of relief is paired with it. Like someone else knows, someone else that Julie trusts. Another person she doesn’t have to fake it around. The weight on her chest lifts just gently, giving her some relief.

“I am sorry,” Jane says.

“Me too.”

“I think the worst part about it is that I don’t even know what caused it. She was sober, and it was October so there wasn’t any ice. The police think there was something in the road that caused her to swerve. And a part of me doesn’t want to know, but the rest of me does.”

Jane reaches across the table and places her hand on top of Julie’s. Comforting her with a gentle look. “I know.”

For the first time, Julie isn’t angry at someone saying that they know. She isn’t angry, and she isn’t crying. She let people in because she wanted to, because they would know.

And it felt good.

. . .

Steve is sitting in the manager’s office making the next round of schedules. Fitting everyone in, scheduling people for more days than he should normally because they still haven’t filled his old position yet. It’s just been sitting idle with no one to take it.

He thought about asking if Julie wanted it, she had said that she wanted to get a part time job sometime in the future. But she’s going through enough right now to get a job on top of it. And she doesn’t need one right now, he still has access to his dad’s card so as long as it’s not something super suspicious, it’s fine. That’s the thing though, eventually he won’t have access to it.

And while he always knew that and has been saving up for that day for a while, it’s still burning a hole in his mind. Especially now. Especially when he has to care for someone other than himself. If it were just himself, he could move into a shitty one-bedroom apartment no problem and be fine. But with Julie, he needs at least two rooms and a nice enough place to keep his custody.

That’s not a bad thing, not for him. He’d do anything to keep custody of Julie, that much he knows. It will just take a little bit more work. And a large chunk of money that he has saved.

Robin knocks on his door, letting herself in. “You’re going to hate me.”

“I can’t change your shifts again just because you’re my friend,” he grumbles without looking up from the desk.

“I prefer the term platonic soul mate, for one,” Robin crosses her arms. “And two, why?”

Steve sighs, turning the chair to look at her. “Because it’s deliberate favoritism and I could get fired for it. I can’t lose this job, Rob, you know that.”

“Fine. Oh, wait hold on.” Robin runs into the employee lounge and comes back with a sheet of paper. “I do actually have to change my availability. I got my class schedule from the community college yesterday.”

Steve takes it and places it in his to do pile. “Thanks.”

The phone on his desk rings.

“Family Video, Steve speaking.”

“Hey, it’s Julie. Nothing bad, I swear. I was just wondering if I could go over to Max’s after school.”

Steve smiles a little to himself. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine. Eddie should have room in his van to take you, I can call him if you want though.”

“Max is on the phone with him now. We’re good.”

“Good, call me when you want me to pick you up, ok.”

“Ok, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you guys are getting along. I’ll see you later then, ok. Bye.” Steve turns to Robin with a proud face.

“Julie, I’m guessing.”

He nods. “She’s going over to Max’s house after school.”

Robin’s face lights up. “Oh my god, that’s great. I knew they were like school friends but not like friend friends.”

“Me either. I’m glad though. It’s good for her to talk to more people her age.”

“You’re one to talk,” Robin picks up a folder and hits him gently on the head with it. “When I met you all of your friends were middle schoolers. But she’s doing better?”

“Better’s a good word for it.”

Truth was, she is doing better. Last week was rough, but she took the weekend to take care of herself. Talked to him more about it, which he liked. He even saw her doing some work on the kitchen table instead in her room. Which isn’t a lot, but she wasn’t closing herself in one place anymore.

It was starting to feel like her home too. Because it was, he knew that. But she was starting to believe it, let it be her home. Her things started to scatter themselves around the house. Her shoes at the front door, hair ties across all the surfaces, her cassettes on the table. Textbooks and regular books, a small pile of VHS tapes in front of the tv. Everything made it her home, their home.

Home finally started to feel like Steve thought it should always supposed to feel like. Like there was a family that lived within the walls, a warm energy pulling you in instead of a cold void. Love actually being there. He started to like going home at the end of the day, because he knew he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“There’s still going to be days that are hard, next week probably, but she started talking to me about it, so that’s good.”

Robin smiles. “Good.”

She pushes off the desk and heads back out to the store, leaving Steve to get back to his work.

. . .

“Sorry my house is a bit of a mess, we’re still getting used to living here,” Max says as she rolls into her small house. “We can go to my room, it’s down the hall.”

There is a lit lamp right in front of the turn for the hallway, Max stopping right past it before turning and heading down the hall. She turns into her room, another lamp next to the doorway. Julie follows her, Jane next to her.

“I can still see light, that’s why there’s so many lamps. It can sometimes be really annoying, but it helps me move around the house without help.” Max explains.

Jane walks over to Max’s bed, holding out her hand for Max to grab, stabilizing her as she lifts herself out of the chair and onto her bed.

“You can put your stuff down anywhere,” Max says after situating herself on her bed. Jane places her bag at the foot of the bed, Jane placing hers next to it. She sits down next to Jane on the bed, just waiting.

It’s been a while since she’s hung out with friends before. Mary had moved away in the ninth grade, and while they tried to keep in touch, it didn’t work. Different time zones suck when it comes to trying to keep friends, and letters are nice, but not like the real thing. And there was never really anyone after that. So, Julie doesn’t really know what to say.

“So,” Jane starts, shifting herself to lean against the wall. “How is living with Steve?”

“Pretty good. Different then what I’m used to, but not bad.”

“That’s good,” she smiles.

“Which one of the guest rooms did you take,” Max asks.

Julie laughs. “What used to be the pink flower room. But we painted over it a few weeks ago. It was so gross.”

Max widens her eyes and moves her head to look at El, having the same expression, Jane reaches over and squeezes Max’s hand. “Yeah, I remember is being pretty gross when I stayed over there a few times. He let you paint over the wallpaper?”

“Yeah,” Julie nods. “We painted his room too.”

“His room too?” Max questions, taking a second to think to herself. “And he was ok with it?”

Ok wouldn’t be the right word. Grew to like the idea is more of what really happened. Or at least what she thought.

“Not at first, but then he was.”

She knew that it had to do with the way his parents were about the house. How controlling they were over what it was decorated with. But she didn’t think they knew. He didn’t seem to share it with people other than Robin and Eddie, and just now starting to with her. She assumed that he wouldn’t share that with the kids. With how reluctant he was about sharing it with her, it would make sense.

In the time she got to know Steve, she noticed a pattern. Taking care of other people before taking care of himself. Letting her paint her room and only deciding to paint his when Julie said something. Taking Robin’s shift even though he has a headache. Always making her food before his. Having odd hours at work to pick up or drop people off at school.

While there was nothing wrong with some of those things, it made her think how long he would go to make other people happy. Especially with his parents. Their expectations of him were unrealistic, unattainable. At least from she knew. How long has he killed himself to appease someone who didn’t care? How much longer would he have done it if she didn’t come along and block the path he was so used to walking on?

Jane reaches over and grabs Max’s hand, drawing a shape on her hand. Talking to her without speaking, like Steve and Robin sometimes do with their eyes. Max making a facial expression that Julie can’t read, but Jane can. Max takes a deep breath, leaning back on her headboard.

“We’re not supposed to tell you this, because it’s not our place to tell you. And we’re still not going to say a lot, but it feels wrong for you to not know,” Max starts.

Jane nods along, agree with Max. “We want you to know something about Steve that he would not tell you. He does not want you to worry about it.”

“We said we know Steve because he used to look after us sometimes, and that’s true, but it’s a bit more complicated. You know the fire, and the earthquake that happened in the past two years.”

Julie nods her head, not quite sure where this conversation is going. “Yeah.”

Max takes another breath before continuing. “We can’t tell you everything, but the short of it is that we were all there those days. At the mall during the fire, and right where the earthquake started. And because of that, we all get pretty bad nightmares.”

“Especially Steve,” Jane adds. “I remember before I moved to California, I was scared that a new home would affect my nightmares. Make them worse. He told me what helps him when he has a bad nightmare. He said it was the plaid wallpaper, it reminds him that he is at home, and not wherever his brain told him he was.”

Julie’s mouth opens to speak, but the words get caught in her throat. She remembers a few nights ago, she woke up in the middle of the night and heard someone come through the house. Robin and Eddie had keys, she knew that, so she peaked out her door to see who it was, finding Eddie going into Steve’s room. It was weird, but the two of them were acting weird when Julie was around anyway. She thought it was because of that, not because of this.

Was Steve panicking across the hall from her and she didn’t even notice. Did he think this would happen when she suggested he paint his room too? Did he go along with it just because she said to, or did he really want it?

She thought she was helping him. Helping him break the reigns of control his parents trained him into. But she actually just ended up hurting him in the end. And he didn’t even say anything.

“It’s not your fault you didn’t know,” Max says, somehow reading Julie’s mind. “He would never had told you this. There’s so much he doesn’t even tell us. Especially about his parents.”

“Bad people,” Jane whispers.

Max nods. “Yeah, they’re dick heads. But he’ll never say it outright. He’ll say that their shit, and that his dad’s an asshole, but just like any other kid. It’s when he slips up and tells you something bad that you really see how his parents really are.”

“He’s told me,” Julie says quietly. “A few times, never a lot. Just that his parents were never around, and he was never allowed to change his room. That he doesn’t see his parents as family anymore.”

It’s heartbreaking when she says it out loud. Realizing then how similar they really are. Two kids that lost their parents. Her through death, and his by choice. Somehow his feels sadder than hers, because he had to make the choice to not view them as family anymore. Julie didn’t choose to lose her mom, Steve chose to lose his parents. Never really having them in the first place.

“That’s more than he ever told us,” Max says, some unrecognizable feeling lacing her words. “Not even Dustin and they’re the closest out of all of us. The kids anyway.”

“We are glad that he has someone around all the time now. That house was empty. Cold”

Julie knows what she means, feeling the emptiness crowd around her when Steve isn’t home. How something so large can feel claustrophobic when there’s no sign of life there.

“I am too,” Julie says.

When she and Steve were first getting to know each other, she remembers feeling helpless that she needed someone she barely even knew. She had nothing, and he was the only thing that she had left. It started to feel like Steve needed her too, that she was giving him something that he always wanted.

Now she knows that the feeling was true. Steve needed her as much as she needed him. A family because theirs wasn’t around anymore. The sad fact of both of their existences. And it’s heartbreaking.

. . .

“You want to come over for dinner?” Steve asks as his and Robin’s shift ends.

“Sure.”

The drive is silent, Steve’s thoughts mulling about in his mind. He’s been thinking for the past few days, about everything. About his parents, and his childhood. The list of wrongdoings in the folder Sarah gave him sitting on his desk. Resting open, with a pile of paperwork next to them. The question of what he’s going to do pressing down on his chest.

“Steve,” Robin breaks him out of his thoughts. “Are you ok?”

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling anything but ok. “Can you ask me that again in a few minutes?”

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her face fill with concern. She reaches out and grabs his arm, comforting him in a way that so few people can. Filling the void of his childhood where touch was foreign, only making him want to break down right here and now.

“Of course.”

When his house appears past the bend, clouds start to fill him mind. Fill his eyes. As he pulls up the driveway, he can feel the dread weigh down him limbs. The knowledge of what he wants to share already weighing on him.

Robin rushes to his side, lacing her fingers with his and taking on some of the weight. The first person that ever made him feel like family only proving more why he has to do this. Why the dam needs to finally break.

Silently, he leads her up to his room, pointing to the files on his desk before sitting on the ground. Knees propped up and elbows resting on them, back leaning on his bed. Watching as Robin’s eyes bug out as she reads, flipping through lists of evidence, and all the paperwork to prove it. Everything he never had the ability to say all in once place, telling him that he could fight and win.

He could tell the world that he was neglected as a child, he just needs someone to hold his hand during the process.

“Steve,” Robin softly says, breaking the silence of the room. “There was so much more than I knew.”

All he can do is nod his head, drawing his knees closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

No one ever held his hand when he was young except when he was learning to walk. After that, it was too much. The nannies were told to never let it happen, and his parents never did either.

There was a day he went on some errands with his mom. A large dog was walking towards them, and as a kid there’s nothing scarier that a large dog. Especially when they are never around any pets. So, Steve reached up and tried to grab his mom’s hand, but he was swatted away. He was left to face the dog alone.

Left to face the world alone.

Until the kids, and until Robin. Until Nancy and him became better friends, and Eddie came along. Until Hopper started checking in more and Joyce and Claudia invited him over for dinners. Until Julie showed up on his doorstep and gave him a chance to build the family he was deprived of as a kid.

Steve was truly alone until the age of eighteen, when he was what the world considers an adult. But right now, he’s still the child that cried when his parents left the day before his tenth birthday. The kid that cried and no one came to scare away the monsters under his bed. The kid that is still here waiting for them to come home.

Robin sits next to him, pressing her side close to him, letting him know that he’s not alone. He’s not alone anymore. She says nothing, waiting for him to speak. For the words to get dislodged from his throat where they’ve been trapped for years. Waiting to be spoken into reality.

“The last inspection I had with Julie’s social worker, Sarah,” Steve starts, choking on his words. Vision blurry. “She said that with what she knew, I could sue my parents for neglect and probably win.”

“She got all of that from one conversation with you?” Robin’s voice is soft, but heavy. Comforting in a way without taking away from the conversation.

He shakes his head. “The first page is what she had, the rest is what I added.”

“And all of those other papers?”

“Evidence of paying nannies, their trips, hotel stays. Everything to show that they weren’t here.”

Robin leans her head on his shoulder, wrapping one of her arms around his. “Have you decided what you want to do?”

“Can’t you just make it for me,” Steve breaks.

Her eyes fill with tears, blinking them away so she can be the strong one instead of him. But the heartbreak is visible on her face. The same heartbreak that has been living in his chest for years.

How could the people who created him make him feel like this? How could the people who were supposed to love him leave him all alone?

“As much as I want to, I can’t. If it were up to me, your parents would be dead in a ditch, and I’d steal you away and lock you in a room so I could love you like they never could forever. But this, this has to come from you Steve.”

Of course it did. He knew it did. But it shouldn’t even had been a question in the first place. Parents were supposed to love their kids. What did he do to make them not love him?

Before a few months ago, he would have let this go. Just went about his life knowing that he was never going to talk to his parents again and move on. It would hurt, but no more than it did before. Now, it’s like the hurt has so many more layers, and it’s all because of Julie.

Julie showed him, in a way, how easy it was to stay. How easy it was to try. Steve might not be her parent, but he’s taking care of her like one. Providing her a home, with food, with safety. Basic necessities but it’s so much more. A shoulder to lean on when she cries, conversations after school, saying goodnight before going to sleep. Laughs, and smiles. Bad days and good days. He’s here, and so is she. And it’s so fucking goddamn easy.

He couldn’t imagine having a life where he looked her in the face and decided that it would be a good idea to leave for two years. To say any of the things that his parents said to him. Because she’s not a disappointment, or a failure. He’s proud of her for just existing, and it wasn’t hard.

Why was it so hard for his parents to love him? To be proud of him for just existing. It wasn’t easy. Steve’s faced death in the face four times now, and each time left him battered and bruised more than any person should. Scars litter his body and mind, but he’s alive. But just because he didn’t get into college, because he works a retail nine to five, he’s a disappointment. He’s a failure just because he’s Steve.

Not Steven Harrington, Richard Harrington’s son. Just Steve.

Steve was finally enough for himself, so why wasn’t it enough for them?

“It hit me the other day, when I was talking to Julie about her mom. She’s the age I was when my parents officially left for good.” He swallows a lump in his throat, trying to just get these words out. Tears escaping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “I look at her and think that I could never leave her. That I would always want to be a part of her life. How could my parents look at me then and think that they didn’t want to be around me anymore?”

He takes a shaky breath. “I was just a kid,” he cries. “How do you leave a kid like that?”

Robin lets out a shaky exhale, tears forming in her eyes fast than she can blink them away. Crying for Steve in a way that he could never really cry for himself. Having the same questions that he is now, and coming up with the same blank answers. There’s no excuse, and he knows it.

“I’m so sorry,” is all she can say through her tears. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through this.”

When he opens his mouth, all that escapes is a heavy sob. Robin pulls him into a hug, holding him as he breaks. Crying for his childhood that never happened, and for the teenage years that were lost. For the adult that is mourning the time that never was. For the experiences that never happened. The love that was never there.

The family that wasn’t provided and he had to build himself.

The nights where he cried out for someone that never came.

The times where he reached out and was just pushed away.

The bruises he had to nurse himself because he had no one to come home to.

The hospital stays where no one sat at his bedside.

The parties that he threw for attention that was never given, only to make him emptier in the end.

The broken feeling that came to him night after night, questioning why no body wanted him.

Steve cries over everything.

Time moves at a pace that he can’t figure out. He feels stuck in a loop or rushed through an afternoon at the same time. When the pool of his tears finally empties, and his throat and mouth is dry, he just sits there in Robin’s embrace. And she lets him. Comforting him in a way that he always wanted to be, the thought only setting him spiraling again.

But throughout it all, she holds him. Rubs a hand up and down his back while the other arm holds him steady in place. Keeping him upright when all he wants to do is crumble. If he does, she’ll be there to pick back up his pieces and reassemble them. Keep him together as he falls apart.

This is what familial love is supposed to be like. This is what he’s always wanted. And what he wants to give to other people someday. What he hopes he already is.

“I want to do it,” he finally says. “I want them to know how much they hurt me.”

“We’ll bring them hell.”

We’ll, because Steve isn’t alone anymore. He doesn’t have to traverse life by himself anymore. Not even this. It might be his fight, but not one he fights alone. Not anymore, and not ever again.

. . .

Julie enters the house, Jane’s brother dropping her off, so she didn’t have to call Steve to pick her up. She doesn’t know what to do about the conversation she had with Max and Jane earlier, or if there is anything that she should. All she does know is that Steve might be hurting in his own way, and she wanted to be there for him as much as he is for her.

She finds him in the kitchen, putting away some food into the fridge.

“Hey,” he says, a bit shocked. “Wasn’t expecting you. How was Max’s?”

“Yeah sorry, Jane’s brother Jonathan gave me a ride home, I forgot to call to tell you. But good, it was nice.”

Steve smiles. “Good, that’s good. I’m glad you’re getting to know them. They’re good kids.”

“Yeah.” She’s trying think of what to say without bringing it up. Doesn’t want to start a whole thing, but it feels wrong to say nothing. Especially with what she knows.

“Did you eat, there’s some leftovers from what I made for dinner. I can heat them up for you, if you want.”

“Thank you,” Julie says, the words feeling right in her mouth. “Not for the food, but for everything. I know that this hasn’t been easy for you either. So, thank you.”

Steve looks at her with a soft expression on his face. As if those words meant something more to him than just a simple thank you. “You’re welcome,” he says. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

Julie smiles, walking up to give him a hug. Home finally feeling like a home again. Two siblings, that might have just met a few months ago but it didn’t feel like that anymore. They were family. Real family.

Part 11

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

18 notes · View notes