There are minor hints to season 2, but only for a brief second. A bit AU too, but I kind of just added some details. I hope you all enjoy! WARNING: vomit!!! 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------After dropping Nancy Wheeler off, after the party, Johnathon Byers went back to the party to check on Steve Harrington. He wasn't going to originally, but something in the back of his mind told him that someone needed to check on the teen. Especially after how upset Nancy had been, and how upset Steve had been when he asked the eldest Byers to take the girl home.

Johnathon walked into the house party, looking around at all the gyrating bodies and loud noises, instantly bored of everything and everyone. He looked around, not seeing Steve anywhere, so he ventured further into the house. He found his way into the kitchen, noticing most people were either drunk or making out, but there was still no sign of Harrington.

"Hey, has anyone seen Steve?" He asked loudly, surprising everyone with how loud he was out of anywhere.

Within seconds, everyone was staring at him in confusion. "I am looking for Steve Harrington." He repeated, not liking that everyone was looking at him. He shifted a bit, wanting everyone to go back to partying and ignore him.

"I saw Steve being decked by the new kid in the backyard." A random girl said, walking up to Johnathon with a smirk. "I heard you and your brother are queer, is this true?" She asked in a teasing tone, earning chuckles from multiple other party goers.

"That's not any of your business, unless I am trying to have sex with you... Which I am not, so thank you for your help." Johnathon said in a tight voice, walking away from the girl as multiple in the room scoffed at his words. He rolled his eyes and walked outside, looking around thoughtfully.

Just when he was about to head back inside, he heard a loud thump and a groan, leading him to where Billy Hargrove was wailing on Steve Harrington. He could see that Steve had gotten a few hits on the asshole, but currently the asshole was beating the shit out of former basketball star.

He ran over, blocking a punch from Billy, trying to stop them from fighting, watching as Steve swayed and collapsed to the ground with a hiss and groan of discomfort.

"Get out of the way," Billy growled in frustration, as even being as drunk as he was, he had been enjoying beating up the most popular hottie.

"He has had enough," Johnathon snapped, balling his fists up in an show of aggression, making it clear that he would be stepping in for Steve's case.

"Whatever," Billy snapped back, laughing as he walked off, grabbing his beer off a nearby table and disappeared inside.

Johnathon rolled his eyes, stooping beside Steve and put his hand down on the teen's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked in concern, looking around in case Billy came back looking for a fight.

Steve groaned, looking up at the sky, through a nearly swollen shut eye. "Nancy?" He asked, sounding like he was in a lot of pain.

"I took her home... Now its time to get you home, without anymore fights." Johnathon said in a soft voice, looking over Steve for all injuries. He could see the almost swollen shut eye, split lips, bloody nose, and judging by the hand resting on his ribs, probably a couple bruised or broken ribs, maybe more.

"Did he hurt you?" Steve asked, turning to look at Johnathon, concern written all over his face and in his good eye.

"Nah, I blocked the blow. Nothing more. How are your ribs?" Johnathon asked in return, easily hiding that his arm was hurt by the blow from Billy's punch.

Steve shrugged, then winced, the sign of pain making his show at bravado weak at best. "Hurts," he admitted, realizing that Johnathon could see right through his act.

"May I?" Johnathon asked, surprising them both with his simple request.

Steve nodded, not really understanding what the teen was asking his permission for. He stiffened when Johnathon reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it high enough to see the angry bruises on his ribs. He groaned under his breath, when he felt gentle fingers pressing along the bruises, finding himself startled by the gentle fingertips touching his overheated and bruised skin.

He jumped when Johnathon's hand touched his forehead, not expecting the cool touch on his skin. The jump elicited a groan of pain, wishing he hadn't moved.

"Are you sick?" Johnathon asked, searching Steve's face in concern, when he realized that the teen's forehead was too warm for comfort.

"No! I'm fine." Steve snapped, smacking Johnathon's hand away, before hissing as the movement pulled on his ribs. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring Johnathon's offered hand, almost doubling over in half from the pain once he was upright.

Johnathon sighed softly, wrapping a careful arm around the hurt teen's waist, allowing Steve to rest against the young man as he led him around through the back gate to avoid having to get through all the people in the house. And to avoid all the eyes that would be judging their every move and touch. He didn't let them stop, even when Steve started stumbling, until they got to Johnathon's car. He leaned Steve against the outside of the car, as he unlocked the car and helped the injured teen into his car.

"I will drive careful, so you don't need to buckle and risk hurting your ribs more." He said, when he saw Steve was struggling with the seatbelt.

Steve sank back against the seat, closing his eyes as the drive was making him dizzy as all get out. He bit back a groan as Johnathon accidentally hit a pothole, causing the car to jar them both.

"Sorry," Johnathon bit out as he hit the pothole, and hissed in discomfort, knowing that if the car had jarred his arm, then it had to have jarred Steve's ribs horribly. "We are almost to your house." He added, hoping to offer some form of comfort for the young man beside him.

"Can we not go to my house?" Steve asked, not wanting to risk running into his parents.

"My house okay?" Johnathon offered, understanding that Steve didn't have a great relationship with his parents.

"Y...yeah," Steve slurred, flinching at the idea that he would have to deal with Joyce and Will.

Johnathon switched their route, driving towards his house instead, as they got there rather quickly. He parked the car, and got out, before walking over to Steve's side to help him out.

Once they got into the Byers house, he led Steve to his room, letting him flop down on his bed, then went to get supplies to treat the injuries and fever. He returned to his room with a glass of water, Tylenol, a bowl of ice, an extra bowl, and a few washcloths. He handed the water and Tylenol to Steve, after dumping a little bit of water into the ice, to melt it down a bit.

Steve swallowed the Tylenol with a few sips of water, before grimacing as his bleeding lips stung and left a little blood in the water. He put the glass down quickly, in an almost panicked motion.

"Its okay, I will get you fresh water." Johnathon assured, dipping one of the washcloths into the icy water and started dabbing at all of cuts and bruises covering Steve's poor face. "I know it hurts, just breathe through it." He added, when he saw Steve wincing each time he touched him.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to stop the winces, but the pain and discomfort became too much and elicited a moan of discomfort.

"I'm so sorry," Johnathon whispered, stopping when he saw Steve pale to almost transparent. "You okay there?" He asked in a normal volume, wondering what was going on.

"Don't touch me..." Steve hissed, freezing completely, as if moving would make whatever he was feeling worse. He blinked a few times, before relaxing and closing his eyes again with a groan. "Sorry," he mumbled, sounding upset.

Johnathon shook his head, leaving the room to refresh Steve's water, but not before hearing a whimper emanate from the beaten boy's lips. He stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, trying to compose himself, when he heard movement and whirled around to see said boy leaning against the wall, watching him.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, concerned because Steve's arm was tight around his middle, but he couldn't tell if it was his ribs he was supporting or his stomach.

"You were gone a long time, I got nervous." Steve mumbled, his words slightly slurred from the swollen, split lips, and the fever. Even around the bruises, swelling, and cuts, the red flush from the fever was evident on the basketball player's cheeks.

Johnathon found himself smiling at the adorable words, before he walked over and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist, turning them back to the bedroom, when the turn (although slow) elicited a groan from the man against him. "You okay there?" He asked, as he released Steve and looked at him in confusion.

As soon as he felt Johnathon let go, Steve wearily dropped to a crouch and turned to face the tiling in the kitchen, as he tried to breathe through the pain and alcohol induced nausea. He cringed as a wash of acid flooded up his throat, but he swallowed it back down, in an attempt to avoid being sick. He knew it was going to be agony, if he didn't manage to not throw up.

Johnathon watched in silence for a moment, until he saw the gulp that Steve did, and it clicked in his head. He sprang into action, grabbing some towels and covering the ground in front of the kneeling boy, as he tried to prepare for the mess that might ensue. "Its okay, just let it happen, that alcohol probably isn't helping your stomach battle all the pain." He said, trying to be supportive, and make it clear he wasn't upset about the possible mess.

"Don't want to..." Steve slurred in a miserable voice. He really didn't feel good, and wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything that happened. "She doesn't love me," he whispered in a tortured tone, closing his eyes in attempt to stop his tears from falling.

"Then her loss," Johnathon said in a calm voice, knowing that he didn't disagree with Nancy's opinion, but right now, Steve needed his support not ridicule. "Hey, you look exhausted, would you like to lay down and rest?" He offered, wondering if laying down and sleeping might be able to avoid the inevitable.

Steve nodded his agreement, before one hand shot to the wall for support and the other shot up to cover his mouth, as he gagged under his breath. "Help," he mumbled through his hand, not even trusting himself to look up at Johnathon, knowing it would increase the dizziness brought on by the alcohol that had turned sour in his stomach.

Johnathon squatted beside Steve, rubbing his back in slow movements, hoping it would help the young man stop panicking and be able to relax. He could feel the other boy's body fighting for control, as he wondered if once the panic was over, if his stomach would still rebel.

Steve whimpered, burping up some stomach acid and spit it onto the towels in front of him. The acid burned all the way up his esophagus and his throat, making it hard to not gag immediately after burping.

"Let it happen, Steve. Your stomach is really upset, it may help to empty it." Johnathon persisted, knowing he was not being heard. On a whim, he thumped Steve on the back once, resulting in a whine and violent heave, covering the towels in a foul, bitter, and alcoholic smelling liquid.

Steve winced in discomfort, as he brought up wave after wave of foul liquid, not having any food in his stomach, after fighting with Nancy ruined his appetite.

"Did you drink all that alcohol on an empty stomach?" Johnathon asked in surprise, eliciting a miserable nod from Steve. "Well no wonder you're throwing up: mixing physical pain, blood, an empty stomach, emotional pain, and multiple alcohols makes a very pukey Steve." He added, more for himself than Steve, but it was confirmed by a nod.

Steve leaned against Johnathon, feeling too exhausted to try to hold himself upright, now that his stomach was empty. He closed his eyes, about to doze off when he felt Johnathon move from under him. He whined and looked at Johnathon in confusion.

"Come on, let's get you laying down so you can sleep." Johnathon said, standing up and helping the sick boy stand up. He had Steve lean on him, as he led him to his own bed, helped him lay down and turned to leave the room.

"Don't go," Steve pleaded, not wanting to go to sleep alone.

"Let me clean up your vomit, then I will come back and lay with you until you fall asleep." Johnathon said in a kind voice, as Steve nodded his understanding but was stubborn and stayed awake until the eldest Byers returned.

He lay down on the bed beside Steve, startled when the sick boy snuggled into him and fell asleep almost instantly. He had only planned to lay beside him until the teen fell asleep, but with Steve asleep on him, he sighed and closed his own eyes, to get some rest too.

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That's how Joyce and Will found them, a couple hours later. Sound asleep, curled around each other, and from the looks of it, comfortable and getting real rest for the first time in ages. 

I hope you all liked this sickfic. As always: vote, comment, and request away. Love you all! <3