Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re not Shithead! You’re Dart, aren’t you?” Steve exclaimed with a breathless laugh, “Like, Dustin’s Dart. Oh, man, wait until he hears about this!”

He tipped his head back with another laugh, ruined hair falling into his eyes.

“Out of all the freaks I could be stuck in here with, I got you. Unbelievable.”

Dart didn’t seem to care what Steve was saying; his attention was still locked onto the Three Musketeers Bar, face-petals twitching and curling as if to sniff the air. Dart released an impatient huff.

Steve raised an eyebrow as he considered Dart. The animal seemed to be getting more and more desperate with each bite that Steve took. Eventually, Dart began furiously straining against the fallen stones, tugging his trapped leg to a point it was almost painful to watch.

Suddenly, Steve was struck with the startling realization that Dart might actually break free. If nougat was Dart’s dinner, Steve was about to be dessert.

“Hey—hey! Let’s not get too excited,” Steve hurried to unwrap the rest of the bar, fumbling with it like it was a stick of dynamite about to blow, and tossed it towards Dart.

The creature snapped the treat right out of the air, making quick work of Steve’s only food.

“For a dude with no eyes, you’re one hell of a catch,” Steve said with an aborted laugh. He found it hard to joke when imagining those teeth put to work against him.

Dart still paid him no mind, happily smacking his lips together, apparently trying to get the last of the chocolate off his teeth, despite having no tongue.

“That was disgusting, you know. That was just gross. You could've at least savored it for the both of us.” Steve complained.

Turning his head towards Steve, Dart gave an inquisitive mewl. An honest-to-goodness mewl, as if to say ‘more?’ Steve had certainly never expected to hear that kind of noise leave a demodog’s mouth.

“Don’t give me that face, we’re shit outta luck in the food department, buddy.”

Steve was quickly reminded of what he was talking to and his current situation when the roof of the cave released a sprinkling of dirt from overhead.

Steve and Dart shared a nervous look as they waited for a second cave-in to bury them alive. A moment passed, and Steve allowed a rough giggle laced with anxiety; even Dart appeared to relax his shoulders minutely.

”Well, that was a close—“

Immediately, the tunnels began to shake violently, raining down clouds of soil and small rocks as the two of them rushed to duck low. The sound of snapping vines and creaking roots screamed all around them. Without warning, the rocks trapping Dart shifted, and the monster squealed in pain.

Without thinking, Steve’s arm shot out to try to stabilize the stones, not registering how close his hand was to Dart’s gnashing maw until one tooth caught the skin of his forearm, tearing a new gash on his already bloodied arms.

An irrational anger burst in Steve's chest. “Chill the hell out, man, I'm trying to help you! Do you want to die?” He shouted.

Why the fuck am I trying to help a demodog? He thought.

Regardless, that seemed to bring Dart out of his panicked frenzy; the creature stopped struggling and lowered his head to the ground, and seemed to consider Steve, even as the tunnel continued to quake.

Not stopping to wonder why Dart listened, Steve braced his shoulder against the trembling rock above the creature. The stone dug painfully into his skin, his injured back twinged with the sudden weight.

Steve lost track of how long the shaking lasted, too caught up in his own pain and trying–for some reason–to keep Dart from getting pancaked.

Dustin would never forgive me if I let his stupid pet (however exotic) get squished. Steve thought forlornly.

It definitely didn’t have to do with the way Dart’s squeal of pain had pulled sharply on Steve's heartstrings, launching him into action.

Just as the thought entered his mind, the tunnels gave one last groan, and the shaking came to a stuttering halt. Again, the joy was short-lived.

Fuck! My escape tunnel!

Grabbing the flashlight, Steve rushed the short distance over to the place he had just spent hours digging out with his bare hands. He scrambled on his hands and knees; the cave was no longer conducive to his full height.

Shining the light at the wall, air left Steve in a rush of relief when he saw that his little tunnel was mostly intact. Finally, a bit of luck.

Steve allowed himself a moment to breathe, slumping against the vines and sucking in the stagnant air with shaky inhales. He suddenly wondered how much air he had left before he passed out; he’d already been here for at least three hours, if his admittedly poor estimation skills were anywhere near the ballpark. He guessed he had about three more hours until things got iffy, but he had no real way of being sure.

He turned back to his unlucky companion, “Sooner the better, huh, Dart?”

Dart, of course, just stared at him.

Steve pushed himself through the wall with a final heave, stumbling out into a larger network of tunnels.

I guess it was too much to ask to pop out topside.

He could practically hear Dustin sneer at him in his head, ‘Of course you didn’t end up on the surface, you dug horizontally, dumbass.'

“Well, I couldn’t very well dig up, could I?” Steve said to no one. He stood for a moment as the echo of his voice died.

…

“How the hell hard did Billy hit me?” He said, again, to no one.

Squinting his eyes, Steve turned back to the little burrow he made, hoping he could fit back through to grab his stuff. He groaned, fitting through the first time was torture on his ribs, and his head was starting to ache with a vengeance again.

Steve wriggled back through the opening with some trouble, entering again into the dingy pocket of space with a groan.

He shuffled over to his bag and bat, situating them on himself to fit through the narrow escape tunnel, ignoring Dart snorting energetically at his return.

”Well, Dart old pal, this is where we part ways.” He droned. It was obvious Dart didn’t understand his meaning, still facing him expectantly.

Steve turned and crouched at the mouth of the tunnel, staring down its darkness intently but hesitating to leave.

He spared a glance at Dart, who still lay beneath the cave-in, beyond hope of freedom.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and stomped over to Dart’s side of the cave.

“Don’t," he paused, “make me regret this.”

Without waiting to gauge Dart’s response, Steve gripped the largest stone that entrapped Dart and pulled with the last of his strength, yelping as the rock came free and slid away, just missing his foot.

Dart wasted no time, springing away and out of the escape hole in a flash.

“...You’re welcome, asshole!” Steve shouted after him. Stupidly feeling a bit miffed at Dart’s lack of acknowledgment.

Steve came to the mouth of the tunnel again and prepared to crawl through.

”Do me a favor and don’t tear my face off when I climb through, yeah?” Steve called out, trying to quell the fear that squirmed in his gut at the thought of Dart waiting for him at the opening, but also at the idea that he wouldn't be. Steve didn't want to be alone down here, even if that meant his only company was an interdimensional hellhound.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe Steve was stupid, but he thought they shared a moment stuck down there together.

Man, you’ve gone soft, Harrington. And the voice of the thought wasn’t Dustin this time.

He climbed into the hole.

When Steve popped through the tunnel for the second time, he did, in fact, come face-to-face with a splayed maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. But they didn't clamp down and rip his head off, surprisingly. Dart just stood there and panted in Steve’s face. Before Steve could react, Dart took off down the tunnel, ran in a tight circle, and came charging right back, stopping directly at Steve's feet.

Steve hadn't actually considered that Dart would stay with him. Most people don't even stay.

“Okay, well, you're free now, I guess. Go on, get outta here,” he said, making a shooing motion with his hand, belatedly realizing Dart couldn’t actually see it. He felt foolishly like one of those boys in a sad dog film. Dart remained at his feet.

“Oh come on, man, we are not friends, I don't even understand why we’re not trying to kill each other right now. Don’t you have some evil master plan to follow or something?”

Again, Dart just looked at him patiently.

He really was going soft.

“Whatever, man, I don’t even care at this point. Temporary truce?” Steve asked flatly.

Dart chirped in what Steve could only interpret as agreement.

Steve stared at Dart for a second before starting down the tunnel, bat in hand.

“I guess I could use the company anyway.”

He turned to see if Dart was following.

“Forward march.” He ordered sarcastically gesturing ahead of them; Dart leapt after him.