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˚⋆ ┊ ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING ┊ ⋆˚
☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. don't you want me, baby?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN — cascading failures
( episode eight ; the mind flayer )

❀

⠀ ⠀ THE GROUP HADN'T TRAVELED FAR BEFORE finding themselves at yet another clearing—the final one, leading them from the woods right to the gates of Hawkins Lab. They heard growling once again—distant but echoing through the wood.

Then, the rustle of footsteps.

Steve was the first to stop, his boots grinding into the soft earth. He held up a hand, palm outstretched, signaling the others to freeze. His face was set in a hard line, eyes darting around the darkened treeline. Arms outstretched, he positioned himself between the kids and whatever might be hidden in the darkness ahead. His gaze flicked quickly to Peyton, a silent agreement passing between them. The blonde nodded, trying her best to mask her limp as they peered through the gaps in the leaves, buzzing lights of the lab flickering ominously.

"Hello?"

Peyton almost jumped out of her skin from the sudden yell, familiar but in no way reassuring.

"Who's there?"

Realization contorted her features, and her eyes met Steve's once again; he mirrored her concern and recognition.

"Who's there?!"

It repeated, the question more of a demand this time. There was no doubt in her mind who was calling out to them. Blinded by flashlights as they emerged from the clearing, two voices called out to them this time.

"Steve?"

Puzzled, Steve lowered the hand shielding his eyes from the beam. "Nancy?" Relief and worry swirled in the pit of his stomach. His pace slowed in contrast with the way Peyton sped up.

"Jonathan," her effort to run was met with a pained grimace, the way her foot dragged against the gravel hadn't gone unnoticed by her step-brother, who welcomed her into a relieved and protective hug. Parker followed close behind, Jonathan's hand meeting the back of his head to get a good look at him, checking for any injuries.

"What..." Jonathan shook his head, eyes meeting his step-sister's once again, "What happened? What-"

"What are you doing here?" Nancy's question interrupted Jonathan's train of thought, though it was clear by his expression that he was about to ask them just the same thing.

"What are you doing here?" repeated Steve.

"We're looking for Mike and Will," replied Nancy

Lucas and Dustin exchanged horrified glances as Parker pointed toward the lab, asking, "They're not in there, are they?" Nancy frowned, arms folded across her chest as she scanned the children's frightened faces with concern.

"We're not sure," she replied, brows tight with worry as Jonathan stared at his stepsister in horror.

"Why?" As soon as the question left his lips, a monstrous roar reverberated from the lab. Teens, both younger and older, whirled around to stare in horror. Jonathan's gaze moved back to Peyton's, the two exchanging a knowing, terrified look.

─────

⠀ ⠀With an odd mixture of terror and excitement, Dustin, Lucas and Parker recalled the events of the past few days, recounting each harrowing detail with a kind of frantic energy that only adrenaline-fueled teenagers could muster. The power at the lab seemed to be out, the only light offered to them by dying flashlights and Jonathan's headlights. They did their best to catch the increasingly concerned Jonathan and Nancy up in a somewhat coherent way. But their words tumbled out in overlapping bursts, a chaotic collage of information.

How Dustin had stumbled upon the creature in his trash can, thinking it was just a bizarre animal, only to discover that it was, in fact, a baby Demogorgon.

How it had eaten his cat.

How he and Parker had managed to trap it, only for it to double in size and escape.

Then, there was the ambush in the junkyard. How they'd barely made it out alive. How Dustin's pet wasn't the only baby demogorgon loose in Hawkins. How Steve and Peyton had stepped up to protect them, and somehow managed to work together as a team without killing each other.

They left out the part about catching Steve and Peyton making out in the woods, thank god.

Peyton had hoped she could get away with walking to the lab without saying another word to Steve Harrington. Actually, she'd started to hope she could go the rest of her life without saying another word to Steve Harrington. That she could take back the fact that she'd let him kiss her. The fact that she had kissed him very much back. That she'd liked kissing him back.

She hoped he'd want the same.

Being sworn enemies and all.

But her hopes and dreams were shattered when the aforementioned Harrington boy so ungracefully called out her name.

"Peyton," he began, softly at first, and the blonde simply ignored him. No good could come from one-on-one time with Steve. Not after the stunt they pulled in the woods, "Peyton!" he called again, and suddenly Peyton remembered just how much of a persistent little shit Steve Harrington could be. She couldn't ignore him forever. Especially not when they were now stuck in one place, yet to think of a plan that would get them to the lab without dying trying. Maybe he wanted to have a different conversation. A plan of survival, Peyton hoped, "Can we... talk?" — of course, she was wrong — "Y'know... about..."

"About what?"

"Wh..." he smirked. An amused grin painted on his lips at the very idea of a girl wanting to forget that he'd kissed her, "Come on," he raised a brow, because, of course, the subject matter of their very much-needed talk was obvious.

"Come on, what?" repeated the Newby girl, purposely playing dumb, same old poker face making its much-anticipated return.

But Steve had yet to give up. His brow arched.

Silently asked, you really wanna do this here?

Truth be told, she didn't want to do it at all.

If she were to get eaten by a demogorgon tonight, she would die happily having never spoken about the fact that she made out with Steve "the hair" Harrington ever again.

But upon noticing Nancy's confused glances, in between subtle nods at Lucas and Dustin's vivid retelling of their horrific night, Peyton let out a reluctant sigh. Pushing herself from the hood of Jonathan's car, she followed Steve so they were close enough to the group to still be seen, but far enough away that they couldn't be heard.

"What do you want, Harrington?" he didn't seem at all surprised by her hostility. It was a personality trait of hers he'd grown to know at hate.

He scoffed, arms folded, almost giddy at the idea, "That was pretty intense back there,"

Somewhat giving in, Peyton's eyes rolled dramatically, "As if your ego wasn't big enough already,"

"You know," Steve's smirk had Peyton suspicious from the moment he opened his mouth, "I seem to remember you saying something about my big... ego," eyes widening, the hot-headed blonde shot Steve a rather serious look.

Something had shifted in his attitude since their kiss. As though just knowing that Peyton wanted him, even if it was only a small part of her, was satisfaction enough for King Steve. Reason enough for his continued attempts to pursue her. Or at the very least, relentlessly taunt and tease her.

"We're not doing this," she pointed sternly, voice hushed, "It was just a stupid kiss, it's not a big deal," Steve breathed in, the smug grin from his previous joke only growing. But, somehow, Peyton knew the boy too well, interrupting before he could even speak, "Don't make a joke about your 'big deal'," Steve's eyes narrowed in thought, his lips pursed. Thinking. Like a child being scolded for cursing.

"Wasn't going to,"

"Yes, you were,"

"Nuh-uh,"

Peyton's wide-eyed 'are you fucking kidding me?' expression at his childish words seemed to be just the reaction he was hoping for. Patience wearing thin, Peyton's attempt to barge past the boy was once again interrupted. Stopped in her tracks by the rather ecstatic young man, the blonde took a breath to argue but was soon loudly interrupted, "You kissed me!" he exclaimed, with an expression that told Peyton he knew his phrasing would get under her skin.

And it did.

Peyton's sharp breath caught in her throat, a surge of heat rushing to her face, "No!" she quickly corrected, finger pointed purposefully at his lips. Peyton's eyes darted toward the others when she raised her voice. The sudden realization that one of the two new additions to the group was not only her friend, but the ex of the boy she'd decided to kiss, made her stomach sink. Even worse, she wasn't even entirely sure Steve and Nancy had actually broken up. And although she and Nancy were no longer all that close, making out with someone's boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, was still a serious girl-code violation.

Ashamed of her actions, hating the fact she'd begun to live up to her mother's daughter title, Peyton dragged Steve to one side. This time, her correction came in the form of a harsh whisper, "You kissed me!"

Although this was a fact he knew to be true, Steve's smug composure remained unaltered, "I didn't see you protesting much," he countered. Wry chuckle escaping her lips, Peyton ran her tongue over her teeth, hands meeting her waist, unable to resist taking the bait.

"Well, it was a little difficult to talk with your tongue in my mouth," she retorted, her tone biting, nose scrunched and brows raised. Steve's lips twitched into an even wider smirk, his amusement palpable. He was completely unfazed by her words — if anything, they only seemed to fuel his arrogant composure.

"You're such a liar," he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief that contradicted his smirk, "You're bad at it too,"

"Yeah? Well..." Peyton couldn't quite let her eyes meet Steve's, a poor attempt trying to mask that she was searching her mind for an insult, only to spit out a lie, "You're a bad kisser," words spoken like a challenge, Steve raised a single eyebrow, clearly amused by her half-assed attempt to get under his skin.

"No, I'm not," scoffed the self-assured Harrington boy, smug as ever.

Once again the title of 'King Steve' sprang to mind.

Peyton's stomach twisted as she tried to come up with something better. Somehow, she couldn't. She wasn't about to admit he was right. Her mind was clouded as she scrambled for something — anything — to put him in his place.

"How would you know?" she taunted, "Have you ever kissed yourself?"

Steve just rolled his eyes, "You're not gonna convince me I'm a bad kisser, Peyton, get your head out of your ass," The way he said it, so self-assured and unbothered, made her want to strangle him.

"Don't get an attitude with me, you egotistic prick," Peyton snapped, hand falling from her waist to point at him, taking a step forward.

Steve's smirk faltered at her name-calling, "Got a mean right hook, Evans, if you wanted to push me away, hell, break my nose," Peyton rolled her eyes at his purposeful emphasis when he spoke. Granted, she did break his nose, of course he was never going to let her live that down, no matter how much he'd come to terms with the fact he might have deserved it, "You would've, right?" he continued, his tone almost accusatory, "but you didn't. 'Cause you liked it," Peyton felt a flush creep up her neck, a sickening knot twisting in her stomach, "Got you all riled up and you can't even admit it!"

"Fine! Yes, okay?" eyes darting guiltily toward Nancy once again, Peyton cursed herself for the words she was about to whisper, "I kissed you back! But let's not forget the initiator!" There was a brief silence, Peyton's mind spinning from the sheer stupidity of how boy drama had yet again pulled her attention from the very real life-or-death situation waiting for them at the end of the path.

Steve didn't seem surprised.

"Okay, so what?" he shrugged, "So, I initiated? What difference does that make?" His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans, his posture oozing the same old arrogance.

Peyton's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer as the frustration bubbled over. She was still too wound up, still too angry at him, at herself, at the mess they'd created, "Twenty minutes ago, you hated me!"

"Yeah," Steve's expression didn't change, but there was an underlying anger in his eyes, "I hate you, that's why I keep saving your ass,"

Peyton's brow arched, her lips curling into a sneer. She tilted her head to one side, her arms crossing tighter, "I think not letting me die sets the bar pretty low, Harrington," she shot back, "Yes, you saved my ass. That doesn't mean that I wanted you to grab it," Steve scoffed, irritation mingling with his amusement. His lips twisted into a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was clear he very much enjoyed pushing her buttons.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we must be remembering things differently," Peyton froze, staring at him in disbelief. Her eyes widened, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to keep her composure. The sheer audacity of his statement sent a flare of frustration through her veins. Without thinking, she leaned forward, poking a finger into his chest with more force than necessary.

"You put your hand on my ass!" she hissed, her voice quiet, yet harsh and angry.

"No," corrected Steve with sudden emphasis, copying her action as his fingertip, albeit more gently than Peyton, met her sternum, "you put my hand on your ass!" It wasn't as though his exclamation was wrong. Poker face faltering for a moment, the only thing Peyton could think to do was mimic his childish words from mere moments ago.

"Nuh-uh," insisted the blonde, folding her arms defiantly. But she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was losing control, and it frustrated her more than anything.

Steve tilted his head to the side, brows raised in disbelief, "Seriously?" he asked, his voice low and dripping with amusement. He was enjoying this. Enjoying watching her squirm, that he had the upper hand for once.

Peyton's eyes flicked over to Nancy, who was now watching the argument with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. When her gaze found Steve's once more, her lips pressed into a thin line, struggling to come up with an excuse that didn't make it sound like she enjoyed their kiss.

"I was..." she trailed off, refusing to make eye contact, "Thanking you," Steve's eyes widened as he let out a humorless laugh, leaning forward, somehow managing not to raise his voice

"Send a note next time!" he retorted, doing little to aid his attempts to get an admission of any kind from the increasingly infuriated Evans girl. Peyton's blood boiled at his smug expression, her cheeks flushed from anger and embarrassment.

"Okay, I mean it, we're done here," but again, when she attempted to walk away, Steve was faster, cutting her off with a speed that left her no choice but to stop dead in her tracks.

"No!" His voice was suddenly louder, more insistent, filled with a strange mixture of exasperation and something deeper. Something that felt almost desperate, "No, you wanted to talk, that's what started all this! Let's talk!"

"I wanted to talk 'cause you were acting batshit crazy!" snapped Peyton, jaw tightening, defensive nature returning in the form of taunting accusations, "Turns out, you just had a crush on me, huh?" She took a step forward, narrowing the space between them, her eyes fierce and unyielding, "Like a little boy, tugging on the pigtails of the girl he likes!"

Steve blinked, clearly taken aback by the intensity of her response, but he quickly recovered with a scoff, "Don't flatter yourself," Peyton's lips twitched into a mocking smile, a flash of triumph flickering across her face.

"Now who's remembering things differently?" she mocked, reveling in the fact that she'd finally started getting under his skin again.

Steve rolled his eyes, both hands landing on his hips as he let out an exasperated sigh, "God, you are so confusing!"

"I'm confusing?" repeated Peyton with a humourless chuckle, "You gave me the silent treatment, then you yelled at me, then you kissed me, and now we're fighting again!" Steve went quiet then, shaking his head, taking his turn to refuse to meet the other's accusatory gaze. He exhaled sharply, tongue running over his teeth.

"I don't know what you want from me," shrugged the elder teen, defeated. He hadn't meant to start an argument with her. Truth be told, he didn't regret the kiss at all. But the more Peyton made it out that she did, the angrier he got.

Peyton took a step closer, her voice colder now, her walls going back up, "That's just it, Steve," she sneered, "I don't want anything from you. That kiss? Meant nothing," Peyton tried her best to ignore the way Steve's face instantly dropped, that her harsh words might be a step too far, "How many girls have you taken to Skull Rock, huh?" his jaw tightening as Peyton recalled his well-known past, "How many girls have you taken back to your big house with the guest bath and the hot tub and promised you'd call them back just to ignore them when you passed them in the hall?" Steve shook his head, gaze averted as he tried his best to mask his genuine anger.

"This is different,"

You're different.

That's what he wanted to tell her.

Despite knowing the likelihood of Peyton believing a word he had to say.

"Sure it is," she nodded sarcastically, "I'm sure that's what you told them too," a satisfactory smirk on her face, it was almost as though she enjoyed fighting with him. She revelled in the fragility of his ego.

"What are you jealous or something?" he suddenly taunted, once guilt-stricken face now painted with a smirk that mirrored hers.

Rage replaced her once smug smile, fists clenched as though restraining herself from throwing a punch there and then, "Oh, shit your fuckin' pants, Harrington!" she exclaimed, forgetting somehow that she'd not wanted to draw any attention to their argument.

Eyes were on them now — everyone in the group had fallen silent, and Jonathan and Nancy exchanged confused glances. They were the only two who didn't seem to understand what had sparked such an intense argument between Steve and Peyton. Despite the group being so close the danger of Hawkins Lab, a place filled with unknown horrors, and yet here they were, bickering like schoolchildren.

Frustrated, Nancy rolled her eyes, her arms folding tightly across her chest as she walked a few paces toward the two.

"Can you guys try to get along for, like, five seconds?" she snapped, her voice a little sharper than usual. Her gaze flicked between Steve and Peyton, both of them still standing stiff, muscles tense, faces flushed with anger. But before either of them could respond, a familiar mischievous smirk spread across Dustin's face.

"Oh, I think they're getting along just fine," the Henderson boy quipped with a grin, Steve and Peyton whirling around to look at him with wide angered eyes.

"Henderson!"

"Don't!" they yelled atop each other. Nancy's once frustrated expression dropped to one of genuine confusion, her brows knitting together as she looked back and forth between the group. Jonathan, somehow, seemed to piece it all together first. His eyes flickered between Steve and Peyton, realization dawning on him—something had happened. Something had changed.

To Peyton's dismay, the interruption somehow turned Steve's anger to smugness, affirming the insult she'd so callously thrown his way.

"Don't do that," she warned with narrowed eyes, trying to steady her breathing, to ignore the way her temper flared.

"Do what?" Steve shrugged innocently, acting as though he didn't know exactly what she meant. His eyes glimmered with that familiar, cocky look that always made her blood boil.

"Don't look at me like that!"

Steve's grin widened as he spoke, leaning in just a little, his voice low, "Well, who's egotistical now?" Peyton's legs drew her forward despite herself, sneering as she snapped in hushed tones.

"See? This?" finger pointed toward his mouth, source of all her troubles on a night where seemingly nothing could go right, "This is why this," she then frantically gestured between herself and Steve, "Can never ever happen, Steve."

"Again—"

"Shut the—" Peyton's fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She inhaled sharply, trying to calm herself before more curses left her mouth, "You make me so... mad," The word was spoken with much less hostility than the usual name-calling she reserved for the Harrington boy. Somehow much less confusing than her more creative efforts at berating him, sarcastically or not. Another way of saying you drive me crazy. But neither wanted to admit it was more than one. More than just frustration in the sense of anger.

"Yeah, well, you know what, Evans?" Steve shot back, unwilling to back down, "You got a habit of pissin' me off too,"

Peyton sighed, anger in her eyes now somehow softer, pleading with him to stop, "I'm serious, you know... this..." she gestured toward herself and Steve, "This has to stop. Now. We are not good people, and we are not good for each other. It didn't mean anything, alright?" Steve seemed to disagree, but he dare not interrupt her now, "It was... adrenaline and- and frustration and..." Peyton took another deep breath, her fingers brushing the back of her neck as she tried to collect her thoughts, "I honestly think that we've hated each other for so long that our brains just... can't comprehend we... we might actually make a good team," she paused for a moment, daring Steve to interrupt her. But he didn't, "It was one time. It's not gonna happen again so... let's just forget about it okay? And..." Peyton shrugged, letting out a half-hearted laugh, "I don't know try to... be friends?"

Steve was truly stunned. He blinked a few times, clearly processing her proposition. Brows furrowing, his expression mangled into one of confusion and amusement.

"Be... friends?" he repeated her words slowly, as though he'd never once uttered them in his life. Peyton shrugged once more, grimacing at the absurdity of it, "You..." Steve pointed, speaking slowly, cautiously, "Wanna be friends with..." he pointed toward himself, fingertip hovering over his heart, "Me?"

"Want to?" Peyton questioned, still somehow unable to resist insulting the poor boy, a playful smirk on her face, "I'd say it's more like... acceptance in the sense that that's the final stage of grief,"

Head tilted, Steve's eyes narrowed, smile playing on his more amused than angered lips, "Nice," he nodded knowingly, acceptingly; insults were far more fun when both parties were participating, "You're so sweet, Peyton," he added sarcastically.

"Oh, I regret this already," she grimaced, Steve's sarcasm only growing as he placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be touched by her words.

"Really, I— I'm honored," he insisted, Peyton shaking her head as she chewed her cheek, trying not to laugh.

"You're such a dick," but her tone was lighter now, a teasing edge replacing the sharpness from earlier. She turned and walked away, back toward the group, Steve following gleefully behind her.

"You know, I'd usually be offended but..." Steve shrugged, his grin growing, "I just value our friendship too much to be mad at you, Peyt," the blonde's face scrunched into a grimace at the unfamiliar sound of Steve using her nickname.

"Shut up," she groaned, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth that she couldn't quite push away. Because somehow, fighting creatures from a different dimension wasn't the craziest thing to happen that night.

Somehow, Steve Harrington was her friend.

❀

⠀ ⠀ THE GROUP COULDN'T HAVE BEEN WAITING any longer than five minutes before Peyton had finally had enough. If Mike and Will were in the lab, that meant not only was Joyce in there, but her dad could be too. And if anything bad happened to him, she would never forgive herself. She was the one who asked him to help them solve Will's puzzle. The one that had introduced him to the horrors that lie beneath Hawkins. If something had happened to Will while they were searching for Hopper, they would have brought him straight to the lab. And Bob would never have let Joyce go on her own.

Peyton's heart began to pound in her chest. Her leg, her good leg, bounced with anxiety, combat scraping on the gravel as she tried not to let the incessant arguing between teens of various ways they could try to break into Hawkins Lab. She couldn't just sit around and wait for the lights to magically turn back on.

She had to do something.

Now.

"Oh, screw this," jumping from the hood once again, Peyton moved to where the boys were stood at the fence. Her muscles ached from running, from tension, from adrenaline that hadn't left her body since the sun had set. Her leg throbbed in warning, but she ignored it. Pushing past Jonathan's hesitant shuffle and Steve's lingering steps, she stormed toward the fence.

She reached forward, but Steve's hand was on her wrist before she could so much as breathe onto the rusted metal.

"What the hell are you doing?" he stared, brows knitted in deep concern. It was a look she was rather used to receiving from Steve. One she hadn't yet learned to appreciate.

Peyton turned, yanking her arm free like the contact scolded her, "What?" she snapped, disappointed that her brilliant plan had been so abruptly stopped.

"It could be electrified... or something," stated Steve, gesturing to the woven fence.

Peyton raised an unimpressed brow, "The power's not working," she replied blatantly. But Steve had yet to catch on.

"So?"

"So," repeated Peyton, exaggeratedly mocking his dumbfounded tone, "No, power, no, bzzz," she jabbed two fingers into his shoulder, mimicking electrocution with a sarcastic tone. Steve grunted, more out of frustration than pain, jaw set, visibly unamused at Peyton's insistence upon repeatedly putting her life in danger.

But before he could argue any further,  before any of them could say a damn thing, Peyton once again turned to grab the fence with her bare hand.

Jonathan's eyes widened in horror, "No, no, no, Peyton!"

Peyton's palm met the cold, dry metal.

Silence fell upon the group, as though they were expecting the worst.

But nothing happened.

No spark. No jolt. No nothing.

Her brow arched, "Huh," she muttered, almost disappointed. Her fingers curled around the bars tightly, proving her point.

No power, no bzzz.

Both Steve and Parker were glaring at her, the others simply standing in shock, unsure if she was brave or just stupid. Either way, she wasted little time in waiting for any kind of comment on her reckless actions. She started to climb the fence, trying her best to balance her weight on her good leg.

But of course, Steve was quick to follow after her, much to her dismay.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, resting her foot back on the ground, refusing to even entertain the idea that Steve would be joining her on what could very well be a suicide mission.

"I'm coming with you," he replied blatantly, only to be met with a half-amused scoff.

"No, you're not,"

"You're not seriously thinking of going in there alone?" he shot back.

Peyton's eyes narrowed.

Déjà vu.

As if she hadn't asked him the same question before he left them on that stupid bus. Before he went out on his own with nothing more than a baseball bat and a stupid haircut. Before she had to swoop in and save his life yet again.

Hypocrite.

Although she seemed reluctant to argue with him now, considering last time he'd resorted to kissing her to shut her up. Sidney shook her head in disbelief; she'd lost count of how many times they'd asked each other that question. It was pointless. One would always end up following the other.

"Pot," she gestured to Peyton, before turning to her brother, "kettle," head tilted mockingly, her hand fell back to her side, "Are you enjoying each other's company?" Apparently, sarcasm during soon-to-be-near-death- experiences was hereditary. She earned herself an unamused glare from both her brother and Peyton, though neither of them dignified her with a response.

"Steve," started Peyton, her tone firm, "I don't need a babysitter,"

"That's bullshit!" he snapped, His finger stabbed the air toward her chest, brushing her sternum as he stepped closer, "You know what those things can do, your leg's already messed up! You need backup-"

"I'll go," Jonathan's voice was the last she'd expected to hear in saving her from the wrath of Harrington. The sudden interruption from the usually quiet Byers boy silenced their brief argument, both turning to look at him.

Only one person who seemed entirely unsurprised by his shift in tone was Nancy.

Steve almost flinched when he watched her concerned hand meet the Byers boy's shoulder.

"Jonathan..." his attempt at a reassuring glance toward her was momentary. The way her touch lingered didn't go unnoticed either, but there was little time to dwell on that now,

"My brother's in there," argued Jonathan, looking at Steve, "Your sister's out here,"

Steve glanced over at Sidney then. With all the fortress building, demogorgon fighting, and trekking through the woods he'd forgotten to do something rather important.

Check in with his baby sister.

The studded bat he'd handed her, the one he'd used to protect her, was still tightly grasped in her hand (albeit not ready to swing). The younger Harrington's brow arched, a silent plea meant just for her big brother because finally he was looking at her.

And she looked scared.

Terrified.

And indeed, confused.

Still, she didn't argue.

As though Steve staying behind, staying with her, was a choice she wanted him to make for himself. He hated to admit it, but it hadn't yet occurred to him that the events of the last few hours must have been not only terrifying, but downright confusing.

How could she possibly know half of what's going on?

He barely did, and he was the one who had fought one of these things before.

Then again, so was Jonathan.

It was Parker's angered tone that snapped Steve back to the conversation at hand, "She's got a brother out here too!" protested the Newby boy, fists balled at his sides, voice breaking with worry.

But Peyton had had enough.

"She is standing right here," she glared, shutting the protective boys up, "And she isn't gonna waste any more time arguing about this!"

Everyone was quiet then.

Something about her older sister, almost motherly, tone had all three of the young men trying to vouch for her safety staring at her sheepishly.

Taking a deep breath, Peyton's eyes fluttered closed, only for a moment, before they landed back on Steve, "Just... get behind the wheel. Wait for us to come back,"

Steve's mouth opened like he wanted to argue again.

Because what if she never came back?

What if she died in there, and he was sat on his ass just outside?

But he didn't.

Not with Nancy behind him.

Not with the other kids that knew Steve's relentless determination to protect the Newby girl was much more than just some bullshit newfound friendship between the two.

Despite the searing pain in her leg, Peyton began to climb. She landed on the other side of the fence with more grace than she felt, her good leg absorbing most of her weight. She hissed through clenched teeth, pain flashing behind her eyes, but she didn't look back.

Jonathan thumped down beside her moments later, a little less grateful even with the advantage of two fully functional legs. His hand met Peyton's shoulder for a brief moment, the light in his hand offering little guidance on the winding path ahead.

Steve was finding it more and more difficult to stay quiet. He hated this half-assed plan with every fibre of his being. What exactly did Jonathan and Peyton think was going to happen when they got to the lab, with no back-up, and possibly came face to face with even more of those rabid things?

The power was out for a reason.

And Steve couldn't help but let his mind run through all the possible outcomes of how it could all go horribly, horribly wrong.

Until he just couldn't hold it in any longer.

They'd hardly made it more than two steps from the fence when he called after her.

"Peyton!" She turned back to look at him, confused.

Now what?

It wasn't as if she would listen if he asked her to stay.

But he had to say something, "Try not to die?"

Peyton's face contorted into an amused grimace as she mocked, "Try not to bite me?" Steve's jaw clenched, like he was trying not to smile. But there was a softness in his eyes. Worry. Maybe even something else. Something worse, more dangerous than rabid monsters and electric fences and evil governments and bandaged limbs, "We got this," assured Peyton, her softness matching his in a way that surprised even herself.

She and Jonathan shared a glance, then turned and started on their way toward the lab, flashlights casting thin cones of gold against the dark.

"Just..." Steve called out again, trailing off, lost for words, unsure what he could possibly say that wouldn't get him ridiculed by the younger teens that had all witnessed firsthand how he truly felt about Peyton, "Be careful!"

Peyton didn't stop walking, but her pace slowed. She looked back over her shoulder, a puzzled—yet-somewhat-amused—smile teasing the edge of her lips. Her eyes lingered on Steve's just a second too long.

But she didn't say anything.

Not this time.

She only turned away again and disappeared into the night with the eldest Byers boy, two flickering lights swallowed up by the darkness.

Dustin raised his brows, smirking up at the Harrington boy, smug as ever.

"Be careful," he repeated mockingly in a high-pitched voice, earning a stern glare from Steve.

"Shut up," he pointed harshly, unhelped by his smirking sister stood at his other side. It didn't help that she undeniably knew him better than any of the other terrified teens surrounding the laboratory gates. That, even in almost pitch black darkness, she could read him like a book. He could tell just by the smug look on her face exactly what she was thinking. And if he was going to actually be Peyton's friend, he had to shut down those assumptions now, "Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!" Sidney defended, although practically beaming, matching Dustin's shit-eating grin.

Steve didn't entertain them for much longer. He was frozen where he stood, face to face with the fence separating him from the girl he'd grown to care almost too much for comfort about.

His arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the path, even after Jonathan and Peyton had vanished from sight. Because deep down, once the shadows devoured them, Steve couldn't shake this sinking feeling in his gut — one that whispered she might not walk back out again.

And if she didn't...

He didn't know how the hell he was supposed to live with that.

heyyyy... heyyy... how y'all doin.....

it's actually been forever since an update 😅 but i PROMISEEEE i've been writing the whole time

ik writing in order is probably the smart thing to do but there's so much forshadowing in stranger things it's just fun to do writing in advance (like i have a whole chunk of both season 3 and season 4 written out !! i have books in my works that are for planning only w like 90 chapters i'm in the writers room i SWEARRRR)

i fear u guys know what's coming tho...

hopefully i can get back in the swing of writing! but if things are taking longer it's cause either i have had yet another life altering problem in my personal life so... if u don't hear from me again until then that's whyyyyy

once again apologizing for spelling mistakes i even used grammarly to help me but sometimes even that doesn't catch all of them 😭

ty for reading and voting
and commenting it really does make my day!

<3