Array
(
[text] =>
INTERLUDE
november 2, 1984
the day of the lake trip
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐌𝐖 slowed to a halt on the side of the road, right next to the Wheeler house. The shiny rims of said tires nearly touched the curb, the curb separating the end of the cul-de-sac and the dying lawn— splotches of yellow grass scattered everywhere. It was a chilly day, certainly for November, and all signs of Halloween were pretty much gone. The sun was going down, but it wasn’t noticeable behind the dull, grey clouds crowding the sky. Parents had already taken down their decorations and there were no more candy bar wrappers on the streets, they’d all been swept away with the wind. It was November, alright. And he was feeling it now more than ever.
Steve Harrington sat in the driver’s seat of his car, there at the end of the cul-de-sac. His head was sort of hurting and he wasn’t sure if it was from the lack of sleep, from driving all night and all morning, or it was the gloom of Hawkins affecting him after spending the morning in Evansville. He wasn’t thinking about it in the car when it happened, but as soon as he drove past the “welcome to Hawkins” sign at the town line that morning, he felt a peculiar displeasure that he’d never felt before. Now, his chest swirled with an uncomfortable feeling, just a faint one, and he told himself that it was just nerves. He sat in the car, staring at the steering wheel for a minute, telling himself it was time to go in. Time to make his move. Win back the girl.
Quickly, he reached for the bouquet of flowers sitting in the passenger seat next to him, grabbing them tight in one hand. With the other, he pushed on the driver’s door and stepped out into the chilly air. His face was scrunched with that tense look— eyebrows tightly knit. And he told himself it was just the cold making him do that, and not the uncomfortable feeling sizzling in his stomach. He was telling himself a lot of things. A lot of things that weren’t necessarily the truth. Even so, he stepped out into the cold November air, sneakers colliding with the slick pavement of Nancy’s street. It was so familiar, stepping out of his car in front of her house. So why was he so nervous?
As he shut the door, he rehearsed the speech in his head. After dropping Lori off at home— god, it felt so weird to think of Lori at a time like this, right before making possibly the biggest move ever on his ex-girlfriend— he’d sat in his bedroom and rehearsed the speech that she came up with. The speech that Lori came up with. And he’d gone to the store and bought a bouquet of roses, because girls liked roses, according to Lori. And he was going to show up at Nancy’s doorstep and confess his undying love, because apparently desperate times called for desperate measures— according to Lori.
They’d rehearsed the speech in the car about ten times on their drive home. And he caught himself sort of wishing she was there with him, now, one last time to run through it again. She’d called him about an hour ago when she got to Dustin’s, making sure he had all the stuff they talked about.
He shook his head as he repeated the phrases over and over to himself, stepping around the hood of the car. The roses were tight in his left hand, almost too tight. His other hand remianed unoccupied, and his pockets were completely empty. Just the flowers. Nothing else.
Running a hand through his hair, he let out a stressed huff. “Listen…” he rehearsed out loud, talking to himself. He itched the back of his head, “I’ve been thinking…”
He stepped over the curb, letting out another sigh. His unoccupied hand made gestures in the air for emphasis, running through the plan another time.
“I love you, I’m sorry,” he said out loud. The way sounded coming from his throat left a certain taste on his tongue— and he tried to ignore the displeasure of it.
He was so caught up in his own thoughts— conflicting thoughts— that he didn’t even notice the bicycle in the driveway, and the person holding it. Dustin, at his own, stood in the driveway after having no luck with Ted Wheeler at the front door, trying to find Mike or anyone to help his situation at hand. He was wearing his walkie-talkie headset on top of his cap, holding his bike there in the driveway, watching as Steve the Hair Harrington walked down the lawn.
Steve, consumed in his mini rehearsal, pulled the hem of his jacket down. “I’m sorry,” he scoffed, almost in disbelief at what he was saying, “What the hell am I sorry for?”
Shaking his head in disapproval for himself, he walked on down the lawn, letting the flowers swing tightly at his side. He ran another hand through his hair— a stressful, nervous antic that he had. The uncertain feeling sizzled harder in the pit of his stomach with each step closer to the house, and his grip tightened a little bit more on the flowers. Just the flowers. He had nothing else with him.
“Steve,” a voice called out in his direction.
Catching his attention, he looked to where the voice was coming from and turned his head. His eyebrows narrowed slightly at the sight of Dustin Henderson, walking up to him quickly and urgently. Steve slowed down a little bit.
Dustin stopped, sounding out of breath. He looked down to the flowers. “Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” he asked bluntly.
Steve rose the flowers, staring down at them before looking back to the kid, eyebrows narrowing confusedly. “No?” he said, skeptically.
“Good.” Dustin said, not wasting another second before ripping the flowers from his grasp, and turning away.
“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing even further. His keys jingled in the grass at his feet. “What the hell,” he reached down and grabbed them. “Hey!”
Dustin was striding up the lawn towards the car, fast. “Nancy isn’t home.” he informed.
Steve’s face contorted with a confused expression— how did this kid know everything? But even through that, he could feel a sort of weight lift from his shoulders. And suddenly, the sizzling feeling in his stomach evaporated instantly at those words.
“Where is she?” he asked, still standing there in the middle of the front lawn. He couldn’t help but notice the breath of fresh air he exhaled.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dustin huffed impatiently. “We have bigger problems than your love life,” he reached for the door handle.
“What?” Steve questioned, beyond confused at what was going on.
Dustin pulled open the door and placed his hand along the top rim, turning to face him. “You still have that bat?”
“Bat? What bat?” Steve put his hands out and let them drop at his sides, shifting his eyes.
Dustin put his hand up, the one with the flowers, gesturing for emphasis. “The one with the nails,” he said, as if Steve should’ve known already.
Steve stared at him, squinting, “…Why?”
“I’ll explain it on the way,” Dustin said, impatient still.
When Steve didn’t move, just stared at him skeptically from the lawn, he let out an aggravated sigh.
“Hurry!” Dustin huffed. “I’ve got an unconscious girl— my cousin— at my house right now, by herself, Steve, let’s haul ass!”
Something clicked in Steve’s mind, and he thought back to the lake. His heart involuntarily skipped a beat at the thought of the lake and the sunrise— but he ignored it as he sifted through the conversation him and Lori had. He thought back to when she’d talked about her family and why she moved to Hawkins. She’d said something about her Aunt Claudia Henderson… her cousin Dustin.
His lips parted as it clicked into his brain. “Lori?” he asked.
Dustin paused, right before he was about to slide into the passenger seat. “You know her?” he narrowed his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I know her,” he affirmed, noticing a growing sensation in his chest. “I was with her, like, two hours ag— what the hell d’you mean she’s unconscious?”
Dustin was almost taken aback by the sudden concern in Steve’s voice, but nonetheless continued hastily. “She passed out alri— listen, I’ll explain it all on the way, just get in, please. I shouldn’t have even left her there alone— let’s go!”
Steve practically hopped on his foot, rushing for the car as Dustin slid into the passenger seat. Steve fumbled with the keys in his hands, just a little bit, as he smoothed around the hood of the car and grabbed the handle. He tried not to think about the extra beat of his heart.
He pulled the door open and wasted no time. “Passed out?” he asked, urgently, as he shoved the key into the ignition.
Dustin strapped himself in. “Yes. Passed out.”
“Where?” the engine rumbled. “How? What the hell happened?”
Steve didn’t notice the confused look on Dustin’s face as he turned to look at him, eyebrows narrowed.
“My house, go to my house— fourty-five Hazeldean road,” Dustin instructed, answering his first question.
“Is she okay?” Steve glanced to the kid as he pulled out of the cul-de-sac, driving just a little bit faster than he was before. He noticed the concern in his voice and tried to swallow it down, correcting himself, “I mean, like, did she hit her head or anything—”
“Im pretty sure she’s fine,” Dustin said, skeptically staring at Steve’s expression— trying to connect the dots on how the hell they knew each other. And why he was asking so many questions. “She’s been out for about an hour, and I came out looking for help— maybe Mike, or Nancy, or something, cause no one’s answering.”
“Where did she pass out, Henderson?” Steve asked, hands tight on the wheel. “Did’you just leave her on the floor?” he squinted. And then he let out a scoff and spoke to himself, under his breath, “Jesus, Lori, what the hell’d you get yourself into.”
“No, I didn’t leave my cousin passed out on the damn floor, Steve,” he said, offended. “I carried her into the living room and all, she’s on the couch as we speak— I think she passed out from shock, or something, I think. Can you drive any faster? Goddamnit.”
“Shit.” Steve’s opposite leg bobbed up and down absentmindedly. “And she’s got, like a, like a pulse and everything? You made sure, right?”
“Yes, I made sure she was still alive.” Dustin sighed, impatiently. “Oh my god, she’s gonna kill me when she wakes up. I’m a dead man.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve put his hand up, eyes squinting as he turned down a new street. “Brought her inside to the living room? What— d’she pass out in your backyard, or something?”
He’d completely forgotten about the entire Nancy plan, as he drove with his foot heavy on the pedal. The flowers were somewhere in the seat behind him.
“Yes.” Dustin replied shortly.
“Why’d she pass out? How— what? None of this is making any sense,” Steve tapped the wheel, his brain racing with different thoughts. He glanced to the kid, face scrunched, “You better get talking, Henderson, cause’ none of this is adding up. What shock?”
Dustin let out a sigh, and bit on the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Steve’s leg was still bobbing up and down. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Get on with it, already,” he just wanted to know how the hell things turned around so fast. “What the hell happened?”
Three hours ago, him and Lori were singing the choruses to Bowie songs in her car on the way back from the jewelry shop— and now she was passed out on Dustin’s couch? From shock? He didn’t even care about the plan anymore, all he wanted to do was connect the damn dots— and see if she was alright. Nothing wrong with being concerned for a friend, right? Except, Lori was not a friend. He didn’t know what she was.
But that didn’t stop him from feeling this rising sensation in his chest. Was it worry? No, it was simple concern. But Steve was telling himself a lot of things that weren’t true today.
It was getting darker by the minute as Dustin started off, beginning with the “slug” he found in his garbage can two nights ago. The same night Lori had been in Steve’s driveway. He gave a pretty vague description of what happened— catching Dart in his room, Lori showing up out of the blue and accidentally walking into said room, the shed, and how she’d hit the creature into Dustin’s cellar. And how she passed out right after. By the time he finished and they were nearing the Henderson house, it was completely dark out.
“Goddamnit, Philbs,” Steve scoffed and looked out his window.
Silence befell them after that, lasting for several minutes as he contemplated to himself. He tried to deny the possibilty that the creature was what he thought it was— something related to the demogorgon he’d fought last year— but deep down he got a looming feeling that it was. The fear from last year’s occurrences floated back into his mind and he tried to calm them down. But the thought of Lori passed out on top of that just elevated those terrible feelings in his gut.
“Okay, wait a sec,” Steve turned to look at Dustin. “How big?”
“First it was like that,” Dustin used the space between his index and thumb to demonstrate. “Now he’s like this.” he put his hands far apart.
Steve scoffed. “I swear to god, man, he’s just some little lizard, okay.”
“It’s not a lizard!” Dustin corrected.
“How do you know?” Steve shrugged.
Dustin turned to him, “How do I know if it’s not a lizard?—”
“Yeah! How do you know if it’s not just a lizard?” Steve exclaimed, gesturing for emphasis.
Dustin cut him off, “Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.”
The car was struck with silence. Steve took this in. They didn’t talk for a few moments.
“And Lori walked in on it.” Dustin said after a while, lowly, as if he felt guilty or sad for her about that part.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve scoffed again, this time thinking of Lori seeing that firsthand. The car turned into the Henderson driveway. “Alright, listen, Henderson— before we do anything, I’m goin’ in for a sec,”
The car slowed and Dustin narrowed his eyebrows, hard, “Going in where?”
“For some reason I don’t trust that you’ve checked her pulse properly,” he said as he pulled out the key, his tone of voice implying that he did, in fact, know the reason. “I’m just gonna check, alright?”
Steve pushed open his door, stepping out.
“I’m digusted you think of me that way,” Dustin defended himself, as he stepped out of the car too— quickly following. “I wouldn’t leave my only cousin here to die, Steve.”
“You let a goddamn foreign creature eat your cat, in your own bedroom,” He was marching up to the front door, “So please, excuse me if I take extra precautions.”
He pushed open the unlocked door, pausing to glance back at Dustin blamefully— gesturing to said unlocked door as reference to his point just made. He stepped in, the light already on in the living room, Dustin following close behind.
Eyes darting around the living room, Steve caught onto Lori lying there on the couch. His eyes sort of widened a little bit and his lips parted at the sight, and he wasted no time in walking over to her. Dustin followed, silent behind him. She was lying on her back, face and clothes stained with dirt, and a big, red spot on the side of her forehead.
He crouched down in front of her, staring at the peacefulness of her face. He recalled she looked just as peaceful now as she did in the car that morning, on the way to Evansville when she’d been sleeping. Except this time she was unconscious.
He reached for her wrist, resting limp on top of her stomach. Carefully, he placed the pad of his fingers hard over the inside of her wrist, and waited until he felt the bump of her pulse. He let out a breath of air he didn’t know he’d been holding when her heartbeat reached his fingers.
“See? Told you, I checked on her every five minutes,” Dustin said from behind him, standing over both of them. “I’m not heartless.”
Steve placed his elbows on the couch, just barely touching the side of her thigh. He ran both hands through his hair, exhaling slowly.
“Now,” Dustin sighed. “Can we end this gross and completely unexpected love-fest and get on with figuring out what the hell is in that cellar?” he looked down to Lori, “No offence, Lor.”
“What is wrong with you, Henderson,” Steve slowly stood up. “Yeah.” he said, calming down.
“Great.” Dustin stared down at Lori, worriedly, for a moment more. Then he turned away and headed for the open front door, where the car and the bat were. “You think she’s dreaming right now?” he thought out loud.
Steve didn’t answer as he followed him, his steps slower. They made it to the door, and Dustin stepped over the threshold, walking outside to the car. Steve paused at in the doorway.
He turned his head to look back at her, lying there on the couch as Dustin called for him. Completely still. He bit hard on the inside of his lip, not liking the image of her like that. But she was okay— she was alive, he felt her pulse and everything. And it was just Lori. So why was his heart still beating in his throat?
𝙅𝙐𝙇𝙄
i wrote half of this a while ago but it was too long to include in chapter 15, so recently i finished it and decided to make it a little interlude! / bootleg / special chapter
i thought it’d be essential for Steve’s character to show this part of the story from his pov
for reference— this takes place between chapter 14 and 15, right after Lori passes out from hitting Dart into the cellar.
and thank you endlessly for all the support 🫶🫶🫶 my heart is so beyond warm :,)
let me know if you want more of these flashbacks from Steve’s pov!!
[text_hash] => 311d635f
)