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Knock knock.
God knows what brought him back to the front of the Byers house, but Steve sure is silently praying that no interdimensional monster greets him, ready to once again steal the starring role in his occurring nightmares. He would much prefer his ass handed to him by Jonathan one more time than have to deal with that thing whose face opens up to endless rows of teeth, clawing its way out of the ceiling and chasing him down the hallway, enough to not give him a wink of sleep. Not that he's had a proper sleep since he'd swung the nailed bat at that thing and watched it burn to the ground.
It's barely been a week, and it doesn't look like he's recovering any time soon.
There's nothing he could wish for than for Hawkins to go back to being a boring, old, mess of a town where nothing ever really happened.
At least it used to be.
And then it clicks in his head: Steve's supposed to try his luck at offering another apology (after he was so rudely interrupted by that thing, thank you very much) as well as return the nailed bat to Jonathan.
"Oh, Steve, hey. What brings you here?"
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, realising a few seconds later that Mrs. Byers is now standing in front of him. A smile on her lips but exhaustion in her eyes. Suddenly wary, Steve wonders for a brief moment if the beginning and end of the fight between him and Jonathan has ever been explained to her in full detail, though he doubts she'd ever given it much thought while her youngest son had gone missing for a whole week.
The youngest Byers appears by his mother's side. Steve can't help but notice how pale and sickly he looks, grimacing slightly. He doesn't even want to imagine what he went through in the time he was missing in another realm. Will looks at the teen. "Steve?"
All of a sudden, footsteps come running towards the door and three heads imitate the behavior of a mushroom as they pop up in the doorway.
"Steve Harrington?"
"You mean, King Steve?"
"What does he want?!"
Of course, it's little Wheeler and his gang of nerds, boring holes into Steve's soul as they stare at him. The tension in his body shifts down to the bat that's held tightly in his fist. Suddenly he's the center of attention, feeling somewhat naked as he's being carefully examined. Must children be so nosey?
"You look like shit!" The teen notices the stern look Mrs. Byers gives Mike, obviously not pleased with his choice of words. It was supposed to be her job to interrogate him! Though the nasty gashes have begun to heal, it doesn't hide the fact that he does indeed, still, look like shit.
Steve is fighting the strong urge to roll his eyes at the little boy; he can't figure out why he seems to hate his guts. "Yeah, not the first time someone said that to me." The teen turns to the woman with a rather forced smile. "Anyway, Mrs. Byers! Actually I'm here for Jonathan. I just want to talk, that's all. If he's in there. I mean, if that's okay?"
"Not a problem, come in." Mrs. Byers lets him inside the house. "I'm so sorry for the mess.. Though they've been helping me clean up.."
Steve's eyes quickly dart up at the ceiling as horrifying images from that night hit him like a ton of bricks. There's still traces of blood, the television tipped over to the side, the stained area from where Jonathan had set the trap and burnt the monster, the smell of gasoline looming in the air and the Christmas lights dangling from every corner. It does seem like the kids have been helping the Byers clean up the mess, the evidence, just taking it easy, because this will never be easy. Never mind a banged up house when it's nothing compared to what Steve witnessed that night.
Relief washes over him upon realising that the ceiling remains intact. "It's okay."
Mrs. Byers smiles, leaving Steve with the children as she excuses herself and goes to get Jonathan. Steve sits down on the banged up couch, watching as the kids pick up clutter on the floor and just act like nothing crazy has ever happened this past week.
"What's that?" Mike points at the nailed bat that's leaning against the wall.
"Can you imagine taking someone's eye out with this?" The boy with a cap lifts up the bat, admiring it like it's the coolest thing he's ever seen. He's never seen such a weapon before.
"Yeah, can you imagine not touching that?" Steve wonders if this is what people mean when they say kids are a bundle of joy. They always ask questions he doesn't have answers to. "You little sh-" he refrained, snatching the bat away from the boy's hands. "This is not suitable for kids. It's not a toy!"
"That's rude," the boy glares at Steve. "Still cooler than a slingshot though."
The other boy speaks, "For the last time, Dustin, it's a wrist-rocket! Those are two different things!"
Mike rolls his eyes as if to say 'here we go again' while Will tries to hide his laughter. For a moment, they've forgotten that Steve is watching the scene play out in front of him.
"Are you saying that I'm a pea brain?"
"That's not what I said, but if the shoe fits then wear it!"
"You were implying it! Talk about bullshit, Lucas!"
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. What a bunch of twerps. At least now he knows their names, though he'll most likely remember them as human headache next time. He claps his hands to try and get their attention. "Hey, you little assholes! I'm right here! Where did your manners go?"
"Hiding in your big stupid hair."
Steve sighs. It takes a lot for someone to have as much patience as a saint. "Listen, kid, I didn't come here to give myself a migraine so maybe tone it down a bit and try not to kill each other while I'm here, okay?"
"What are you going to do with that, anyway?" Mike interrupts, clearly annoyed but intrigued. "Are you some sort of psycho killer now? Are we the first victims?"
"Ha ha ha. Very funny." Steve deadpans. "No, I'm returning this to the manufacturer because it's the right thing to do."
As if on cue, Jonathan appears in the room. All heads turn to him. "Keep it."
"I'm not keeping something that's not mine, man."
"Yeah, I manufactured, Nancy provided, but you wielded it." Jonathan shakes his head, smiling slightly. "Just take it as a thank you.. you know.. for saving us."
"Saving you?" Lucas can't believe what he's hearing. Steve Harrington, the douchebag of all douchebags, is suddenly the hero of the story? The world really must be upside down.
Even Will seems surprised. Everyone knows Steve - who doesn't? - but at the same time, everyone isn't friends with him especially his brother who has never had a good thing to say regarding Steve's attitude or snobby buddies who followed him everywhere like stray dogs so hearing about this has filled him with a sense of awe.
"That night before we were gathered together at the hospital, yeah, he saved us from getting attacked by a demogorgon."
"BY A WHAT?!" Steve frowns. "Jesus Christ, that thing has a name?"
Jonathan shrugs, gesturing at the kids. "That's what they say."
"Wait, you saved my brother?" Will asks, amazed.
"You saved my sister?" Mike asks, skeptical.
"So I believe you just earned a bit of my respect." Lucas has changed his mind; maybe Steve isn't so much of a douchebag after all.
"But you lied!" Dustin's extra hand gestures almost hit Mike in the face. "That's not what you told us! You said you didn't know what was going on and that they just needed a ride and that you just wanted to know if Will was okay!"
At that last part, Jonathan can't help but smile. Whether it was the truth or not, Steve still thought of his youngest brother and chose to stay with them at the hospital for the rest of that eventful night.
Steve feels blood rushing to his face. "I lied because I didn't want to talk about it, okay? Why is it such a big deal?"
"Because what you did was awesome, Steve!" Dustin cracks the biggest grin. "Why are you acting like it doesn't matter? You could've just left them and saved your own ass but you didn't! You're like Luke Skywalker when he was being tempted to join the dark side of the Force but you know what he did? He fought so hard and chose the light side because he knew it was the right thing to do. You did the right thing, Steve, and as a reward you're one of us now. You're a true hero!"
Steve's not going to pretend like he knows Luke Skywalker, or question whether he's a real person or not, but one thing he's so sure of is he doesn't deserve to be compared to such a seemingly noble man. He's just Steve. It does feel good to be recognised for your good deeds, but he's not doing it for attention. He's doing it because it's what he thinks is right, because he wants to change, because he's tired of acting high and mighty, because he knows from the bottom of his heart that he's not the selfish asshole he's been forced to believe. Steve Harrington no longer wants to be known for his good looks or money, he wants to be known for the golden heart and kind soul that he never knew he has always possessed.
Steve doesn't know what to say, but he could cry right on the spot. "...thank you?"
"Don't mention it!"
"So he's like an honorary member of the party now?"
"As the leader, let me think about it.."
"You thinking just means you preparing to say no! Come on, Mike!"
"What do you think about teaching him to play D&D? We could use more players!"
"I'd rather name one of the monsters after him!"
"Let's be honest, you only hate him because you're jealous that he has better hair than you!"
Dustin is certain that Mike has rewarded Steve imaginary gold stars for his heroic actions and thinks that he's the coolest guy in town, but he's also certain that Mike would never actually tell Steve what he thinks of him.
Steve is so lost. "I don't know what the hell they're talking about."
"It's a board game, they're obsessed with it." Jonathan refrains from laughing. "You've never played Dungeons and Dragons?"
"Dragons?" Steve frowns, shaking his head. "Why would I want to be playing with dragons?"
In that moment, the two teen boys have gained new knowledge about each other: Steve has learned that the weird kid can actually hold a conversation while Jonathan has learned that the annoying prick can actually be nice for a change.
"No but seriously, Jonathan.." Steve begins after he's sent the other teen into fits of laughter. "I'm sorry, man. I got my ass handed to me for once, no one's ever been able to do that to me and it's kind of a wake up call, you know? Good for you for knocking some sense into my head but yeah.. I'm sorry for being a dick."
Jonathan shrugs. "I haven't been cool with you either so that makes two of us." They awkwardly chuckle, glancing at the kids who are still yelling over one another and going on about their fantasy game. "I'm sorry too, you know.. for ever doubting you.. I think you're a good guy, Steve. Thank you."
Steve slightly lifts up the bat, "You sure you don't want this back?"
"Yeah, fine." Jonathan nods. "Although I hope that it never has to be used ever again, it's all yours."
Mrs. Byers returns to the room, approaching the teens. "Everything okay, boys?"
"Never better, Mrs. Byers!" Steve smiles, looking around. "Actually, if it's okay, I can help with sorting things out before I go. Just tell me what to do and I got ya!"
The woman smiles fondly, possibly already growing a soft spot in her heart for Steve. "Oh, I can never turn down a nice offer!"
The kids then proceed to ask Steve a bunch of questions regarding his hair, failing grades in high school or the healing wounds on his face while he keeps himself busy helping Jonathan cover up the giant hole in the wall.
Steve never would have once thought that he would be willing to associate himself with a gang of twerps and a family of three. For some reason he doesn't feel the need to hide from them or put on a tough guy act in front of them like he did with former friends Tommy or Carol. The reason being one thing in common: trauma is never going to stop them from healing.
Old Steve Harrington can kiss New Steve Harrington's ass goodbye.