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Okay so while he may be an idiot, Steve knew he wasn’t this stupid. So, he had no idea why he decided to just not mention what was going on.
So maybe he had been getting headaches and nosebleeds a little more frequently than usual but that wasn’t really an issue, what with having had three concussions over the past few years. Headaches and bloody noses just weren’t really that big of a deal to him.
And so, what if the increase in nightmares that he had, had that week were leaving him more sleep deprived than usual. It was probably just stress. Max being cursed, Chrissy, Fred and Patrick’s murders, Jason, all of those things would cause extra stress.
And maybe if he had actually gotten more than three hours of broken up sleep a night he would have dealt with this better.
But no. Here he was, staring at a grandfather clock that was embedded in the wall of the Wheelers basement, that he was pretty sure wasn’t actually there. He probably should have been panicking, running around screaming and telling everyone around him what his favorite song was but all he could think of was how much of a goddamm drama queen Vecna was. I mean come on! Who uses a creepy ass clock to scare people?
Over dramatic thirty-seven-year-old men. That’s who.
He let out a rough bark of laughter at his own thought process. Too tired to even care that his thoughts sounded like those of someone who had lost the majority of their marbles.
His laugh drew the eyes of everyone in the Wheelers basement to where he was laying sprawled out bonelessly on one of the couches, head tilted off to the side, staring at the far wall.
He knew he looked like crap, so the concerned looks he was getting weren’t that undeserved. He had heavyset bags sitting under his eyes and his skin was pale, and even though he had been able to get himself to do his hair routine that morning (he really couldn’t afford to lose any more of his cool points by having bad hair) it still looked more lackluster and duller than his regular fabulous hairstyle.
(And hey, he may not have been cool anymore but his hair would always be fucking great)
(All Hail Faberge Organics Farrah Fawcett hair spray!)
...moving on.
So, this was what his life had come to, sitting in the Wheeler’s basement after coming back from the graveyard were Max got cursed (and wasn’t that weird? Floating and music and the terrifying chance of a mangled body), laughing at something he was forty-seven percent sure wasn’t actually real and the feeling of a bunch of different people looking at him like they were wondering if he had finally lost it.
“Uh, hey Steve, whatcha laughing at?” That was Robin. He liked Robin. It was like they operated on the same wavelength of bullshit at any given moment in time and it was great. Steve had never actually had a friend before her that he could be more himself with and not more his ‘King Steve’ persona and he was absolutely thrilled to have one now.
He shifted his head to the side so he could look back at Robin and blinked, before replying.
“I’m almost like forty-ish percent sure that unless the Wheelers are going for a whole Victorian era thing, that there is not actually a giant creepy ass clock in the wall” Steve said, reveling slightly in the chaos that followed. (I mean can you really blame him? He has to get his kicks somewhere) (also he blames the sleep deprivation).
“You're seeing a clock!? Is it Vecna? Are you having any of the symptoms?” Dustin screeched, belting out his questions as he moved to hover over Steve.
Everyone else was edging closer towards him as they tried to talk over each other in frantic tones, asking about his favorite song, headaches, nightmares, Etc.
Their frantic talking -almost shouts- were only cut of when Steve laughed again.
“Sorry, sorry it’s just-“ Steve wheezed with laughter as he curled in on himself, hands going around his waist “I haven’t slept in like three days and I’m only running on those shitty knock off energy drinks I snagged, then chugged in the gas station parking lot, and adrenaline. But I’m clearly about to crash and I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m not hallucinating this whole conversation!”
There was silence following his ramble before Robin was crouching next to Dustin in front of the couch. The rest of The Party that were in Hawkins plus Erica were all hanging back, Nancy was as well.
“Alright Steve-o. How about you take a nap, and someone will wake you from your beauty sleep when your prowess with a bat is needed” Robin said as she pulled one of the couches throw blankets towards them. And Steve thinks he would die for Robin. Not even joking. Here she is, offering him a chance to nap and complementing his awesome bat wielding skills. Platonic with a capital P! and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
He swears he has stars in his eyes when he looks at her.
“You're my best friend and I would die for you” he breathed out, before reaching out to snag one of her hands in his own. Surprisingly she lurched back before he could touch her, a look of loathing spreading over her features. He has a second to be confused before she’s talking.
“Then why don’t you Harrington?” She said cruelly, her face twisted in disgust “it would be so much better for everyone if you just stopped breathing.”
He’s breathless for a moment, as if Robins words actually stopped his lungs from taking in air, before he comes to a realization.
“You’re not real!” he said, a bright grin spreading over his face. Fake Robin’s features flash with something like confusion before its face smoothed back out into an expression of disgust.
“What are you talking about Steve? I am real. I’m just not acting like I can actually stand to be around you for once” Fake Robin sneered. The surroundings begun to flake and morph, turning into metal walls and steel treys, before Steve was sitting restrained against a hard chair with the faker still standing in front of him.
“Sure, you are Dick face!” He chirped. Honest to God chirped. (He really had lost it hadn’t he?) “And isn’t this kinda kinky? I mean you’ve got me all alone, tied to a chair, in a small room. You're sending me some mixed signals here Man.”
Fake Robin didn’t say anything as it started to flake apart, faux flesh cracking into bloody chunks, before forming back into the shape of a person. It’s a man this time, the doctor from the Russian base, with his white coat and bald, shiny head.
((“Steve? Steve wake up! Dingus you better be joking I swear to God!” Robin demanded as she shook her best friend back and forth by the shoulders.
His eyes were rolled up into his head and he had gone from lounging lazily against the backrest of the couch to sitting straight up, spine ramrod straight.
“Steve!”))
“Who do you work for?” The doctor demanded, getting right up in his face.
“Scoops Ahoy, you fucker! Well not anymore, Home Video, you fucker!” Steve exclaimed much to happily for the present situation “Hey! Do you got anymore drugs for me Mr. doctor man?”
The bald man just sneered down at him before moving to grab a pair of pliers, the same pair that had actually been used on one of Steve’s nails that day. Steve has been steadily loosening the ropes binding his arms behind his back as he shit talked Vecna? (He was pretty sure it was Vecna at this point) and they were finally loose enough for him to slip his hands out all sneaky, like a ninja.
As the man approaches (mentally Steve has dubbed him Mr. Russian doctor man) with the pliers, speaking in what Steve thinks is supposed to be a threatening voice, (if Vecna thought a few scary words were going to scare him he had clearly never met an angry and/or worried Mrs. Byers) Steve jumped to his feet and socked the bastard in the face, before sprinting to the door.
When he threw it open, he wasn’t met with the sight of a metal hallway, but instead he tripped forward straight into the upside-down tunnels.
Immediately he was assaulted by the filth permeating the air, making it difficult to breathe through clogged lungs and the agonized screams of children ringing deafeningly in his ears.
Whirling around Steve was met with the sight of several Demo-dogs ripping into his kids. Blood was everywhere, making sick squelching noise where petaled faces dug into flesh with abandon. The smell of human shit hit his nose like a punch to the nose, the smell so rancid he could practically taste it, most likely coming from punctured intestines, and Steve gagged around nothing. His bat is in his hands, he doesn’t know when or how it got there but he puts it to use.
They are not real. He knows they are not real, but he would never be able to live with himself if he just sat back and watched. Even if he knows it’s not them.
((The basement was filled with panicking teens as one of their own was being cursed. Robin was still shaking her friend as Everyone else tried to figure out his favorite song.
“Nancy, you dated him did he have any songs he really liked or listened to s lot!” Dustin exclaimed. Nancy wracked her brain, but she came up completely blank. She had never really paid attention to the music Steve had played when they were together and now, he was paying the price.
She shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes.
“I don’t know”))
He charged at the closest monster, one that’s digging its jagged teeth into Max’s face and chest. Fake Max’s face was a bloody hole, it barely looked like it was even a face anymore. It’s no more them a lump of flesh at this point. The Demo-dog's teeth has torn every single one of fake Max’s features from her head, leaving only shattered pieces of bone and jagged chunks of meat in their place.
Steve wanted to throw up as he swung his bat and was rewarded with a sickening crack. He was sure that if he took a longer look at any of the other kids, he would find their bodies in similar shape to Max’s.
So, he didn’t look. He just kept swinging.
As he beat the first Demo-dog, it was then that the other ones finally noticed that there was new prey to feed on. They turned towards him, their bulbous faces stained dark red, and lunged at him.
The pain was immediate.
Thousands of curved teeth punctured his flesh as the monsters latched onto him. There was one latched onto his shoulder and another one on his stomach. Those were the only ones he could get a solid location one through the absolute agony he was in, but he was absolutely sure that there were a few more using him as a chew toy.
He fell to the sodden floor with a thump, heavy with the weight of the Demo-dogs tearing into him.
A scream reverberated through the dank tunnel as the Demo-dogs did their best to render his already torn body into minced meat.
There was shuffling all around his prone body that he could barely hear over the blood rushing past his ears, the sounds of tearing flesh and the chittering growls of the monsters. Turning as best he could towards the source of the shuffling, Steve was met with the bone chilling sight of the broken corpses of his kids stumbling towards him.
(These aren’t his kids. It’s not them. It’s not them. It’s not themitsnotthemitsnotthem)
If the sight of four gore ridden bodies (Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Mike) weren’t instilling a full body horror within him, Steve think they would look kinda funny stumbling around like cheap horror movie zombies.
Steve kept screaming as he thrashed weakly t hrough the pain, never taking his eyes of the corpses even when they got close and began tearing at him right along with the Demo-dogs.
Steve had never been in this much pain before, and he wanted it to stop. His throat burned as he wailed, but it was barely noticeable over the other gory wounds being torn into him.
“Sto’p it, stop it stop, s’top it Stop it!” Steve croaked, gradually getting louder until he was as screaming at the top of his lungs.
With out warning the floor dropped out from beneath him, leaving him suspended in free fall as he plummeted into the empty darkness. He couldn’t see anything as he fell. Then without warning he hit water, back first. He sunk quickly into the murky water, flailing desperately to no avail. Each movement he made sent new waves of agony through his body and making it even harder to breathe.
His lungs burned and his brain felt like it was expanding in his skull. Without warning his head broke up through the surface of the polluted water and he gulped for air, paddling harshly to avoid being dragged under again.
With wild eyes darting around, he realized where he was. The Harrington house pool. Paddling towards the steps that let out of the water, Steve stopped short when something surfaced in front of him. It was so sudden that he had no time to dodge, so he swam right into the bloated corpse of Barbra Holland.
A startled yell startled out of him as the putrid bodies' hands shot up to clamp down on his shoulder with inhuman strength. Barb’s eyes were an unfocused milky white that still somehow managed to seem like they were staring right into his soul and her skin was sallow and warped, yellow and blues painted across her body in a mockery of a painted skyline.
“Why did you kill me, Steve?” The corpse asked, her lips peeling from her face as she talked “I never did anything to you. Do you really hate me that much?”
Steve sputtered denials as he tried to escape her grip.
“I didn’t kill you! I didn’t. It was the Demogorgon. It did it!” He babbled, his escape attempts doing nothing but splash black stained water up against his face.
“Yes, you did! It was you it was you it was you! You're a murderer Steve Harrington!” Barbra screamed. Her wails picked up in pitch until Steve felt as if his ears were bleeding. The screams morphed into the sound of upbeat music and suddenly Steve was left standing in a brightly lit bathroom, Nancy standing in front of the mirror trying to rub a bright red stain out of her white shirt.
His stomach dropped at the sight of the familiar bathroom, and he barely had a moment to realize that the wounds he had been sporting from the Demo-dogs were no longer present, before Nancy was talking.
“It's bullshit isn’t it, Steve. You killed Barb because you couldn’t keep it in your pants for even one night.” Nancy spoke, her voice hard.
“Y-You're not Nancy” he stuttered, backing up towards the bathtub “this a-already happened. Your Vecna not Nancy”
At that ‘Nancy’ morphed, along with the surroundings. The bathroom melted into red as Vecna finally showed himself. Blue eyes shifting into milky white, pale skin fading into mottled grey vines.
((Robin stopped shaking Steve as his body began to rise from the couch. The panic circulating the room peaked even higher and his feet left where they had been touching the carpeted floor.
Tears were steaming down Robin’s face as she babbled to herself, trying to remember if there was a song that Steve liked more than any other or anything he had mentioned about music. Max had taken out the Kate Bush tape from her Walkman in preparation for whatever song they would put in and Lucas, Erica and Nancy had gone to raid Nancy’s parents tape collection and grab any other tapes that were in the house, and Dustin was right there with Robin as she tried in vain to get Steve to respond.
“Wait!” Robin exclaimed as a thought hit her. The group who had gone to get tapes had made their way back down onto the basement “that Bonnie Tyler song! Do you have the one ‘eclipse’ something?”
“Total eclipse of the heart?” Dustin asked.
“Yeah! That one! Try it”))
Steve stumbled back against a concrete pillar as he took in his surroundings. Max hadn’t done the place justice when she described Vecna’s mind palace. There were sharp spires of stone rising out of the ground all around him, jagged and broken pieces of the Creel house were floating haphazardly around it the wet red air. Blood was pooling around his feet and soaking through his trainers, leaving them darkly stained. He could see the bodies of the previous victims (Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick) their limbs snapped and discolored against the vines and concrete pillars.
Looking towards were Vecna stood a few feet away and fighting the urge to heave, Steve couldn’t help but try and ease the tension that had settled in between his trembling shoulders.
“Y’know, I might have tried some strange things every now and again but but your role play fetish is just a little to weird for me” Steve stated, trying hard not to let the trembling in his voice be heard.
There was no motion for a moment, before vines whipped up to pull him tight against the concrete with a sickening thud.
He cried out as the vines constricted bone crushingly around his limbs hard enough to burst blood vessels and grind bone against bone.
Vecna took slow steps towards him as he raised his hand in what looked like it could be a tender gesture if not for the murderous look on his grey face and the claws tipping his long fingers.
“I was going to give you a choice. Join me readily and let me have you or resist and I’ll do it forcefully, but you... annoy me” Vecna deadpanned as he settled his hand hovering above Steve’s face.
Turn around
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming round
Steve faintly heard music as his limbs began to bend in ways that strained them almost unnaturally. Turning to the side he could see a tear beginning to open up in midair, the edges a fuzzy white. Looking through he could see himself floating above everyone, his head jammed up against the ceiling, bending his neck at a weird angle.
Turn around
Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Robin and Dustin were right beneath him, tugging on his legs as Max stood on the back of the couch holding the pair of headphones as firmly against his ears as she could with the weird angle of his neck. Lucas, Erica and Nancy were shouting something that Steve couldn’t hear but it was clearly something important.
Turn around
Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
Their faces were all desperate. Most of them had tears trailing down their cheeks and Robin and Dustin seemed to be Bawling their eyes out.
Turn around
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
The sight of them in so much mental pain made something in Steve twist unpleasantly as the Bonnie Tyler song that he had sung terribly that day in the mall bathroom played through his head.
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
His limbs were bending wrong and his back was arching without his permission. With a sickening crack his left arm broke in a few different places and Steve couldn’t bring himself to scream.
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart and I need you now tonight
He wasn’t going to let his kids or Robin see him die like this. He couldn’t do that to them. Fighting against the vines and invisible hold on his body, lunged forward with as much force as possible and bit down on Vecna’s chin with as much power as he could muster.
And I need you more then ever and if you only hold me tight we’ll be holding on forever
His jaw throbbed as he pulled back just as fast as he and lunged forward, bringing a hefty chunk of Vecna’s grey flesh with it. The vines holding him went limp in surprise and Steve wasted no time in drawing back his good arm and punching Vecna’s already bleeding face as hard as possible.
And we’ll only be making it right ‘cause we’ll never be wrong together we can take it to the end of the line
He felt a crack under his outstretched fist and he took that as a sign to take off running as fast as possible towards the portal. Sprinting so fast his legs screamed at him to stop. He didn’t stop. He still had the piece of flesh in his mouth, not having noticed in his rush. He spit it out, fighting the urge to gag as he ran.
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
All of the time
I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark
There where pieces of concrete and rubble being chucked at him as he ran. They shook the ground as they made contact and Steve stumbled more then once, always making it back to steady feet as he kept going.
We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever’s gonna start tonight
Forever’s gonna start tonight
He crossed the last stretch of bloody dirt and threw himself into the portal.
Crashing back into his body, the music still blaring through the headphones, was a jarring experience. For a moment it was like he was suspended midair, before he plummeted.
He hit the couch hard, jarring his mangled arms and tearing a scream from deep in his chest as he arched away from the rough fabric. There were voices all around him and hands gripped at his hands and shoulders as he fought for breath. He was vaguely aware of tears trailing down his face, but couldn’t acknowledge them enough to feel any embarrassment.
He hurt everywhere. There wasn’t a single part of him not sporting a bone deep ache. He felt as if even his fingernails and hair were aching.
He was pulled forward into someone’s chest, being mindful of his arm, and he sobbed.
There was a hand rubbing his back and words being spoken softly into his ear. ‘calm down’ ‘take deep breathes’ ‘your safe’ ‘he didn’t get you’, it was Robin who was holding him and speaking softly.
“R-robin?” He asked hoarsely, his voice trembling.
“Hi Stevie, we got you okay. You were floating for to long and we were so scared that the song wouldn’t work, and then your arm snapped and I thought you were going to die Steve! I thought you were going to die!” Robin babbled throatily as she clutched onto her best friend tighter.
“He almost got me but then I bit the bastard” Steve replied, feeling slightly gleeful at the fact that he tore a chunk of the kinky bastards face off.
There was stunned silence for a moment before Dustin spoke.
You bit him!?” He asked, also sounding far to happy about it “How did you do that? Where did you buy him? His hand, his arm? Where!”
“Slow down you little shit” Steve said as he shifted out of Robin’s grip to keen back into the couch. He winced as the movement jostled his arm, which when he looked down he could see that it was broken in at least two places. Feeling slightly sick at the sight he looked away, his good hand moving to wipe tears from his face, before answering Dustin’s questions.
“He had me backed against a pillar so I called him out on his role play fetish, tore off a piece of his chin with my teeth, broke his nose and fucking booked it” Steve said, enjoying the disgusted and disbelieving looks immensely “also I am going to go to sleep now. Goodnight”
Those were his last words before his eyes fluttered shut and he went completely limp against the couch. If he had still been awake he would have laughed at the comical expressions on everyone’s faces from his parting words.
He blames the fucking sleep deprivation.