THE COURAGE OF THE STARS.

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STARCROSSED (book one).
°• CHAPTER TEN •°

" IT'S DIFFERENT NOW.
I'M DIFFERENT. "

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IT TAKES EVERY LAST BIT OF STRENGTH ELIJAH WOLFHART HAS TO NOT BREAK DOWN. Every second that passes is a further step closer to the line that once crossed, he'll fail and fall apart. His adrenaline had finally died down. It left him so overwhelmed that he was close to sobbing with his temple pressed against the cool, glass window of his car. The knowledge that Steve was sat next to Nancy in the seats behind him didn't ease him either. Too much was happening at once. Elijah could hardly keep up without allowing it to destroy him.

Elijah's gaze dart to the crack that allowed him to see the stars in the sky. They glimmer back at him and his lips twitch into a small, sad smile. He wished he was there. The part of him so in love with the stars that made him feel as if he was born from there just wanted to go home. Elijah wanted to be as calm, still, and beautiful as a star that could shine no matter how much dark there was surrounding them.

The only other thing that shone brighter than the stars was the red and blue lights of ambulances and police cars waiting for them at the Hawkins Middle School. The kids they thought were safe here were scattered around, either in the back of an ambulance or on the staircase, blankets draped over their shoulders. Their faces are blank, sneakers splattered with small spots of blood, eyes blurred with tears. Elijah slams the car door shut at the sight. He knows something's wrong.

The one kid he doesn't see is Eleven.

Elijah hopes maybe he's wrong. He prays that the kid escaped somehow once she saw all of the attention around the parking lot in fear that she'd be taken back to the Lab. She was... God, she was just a child. That should've been enough. They shouldn't have left them alone in the first place. Elijah can deny it all he wants, but when the truth none of the traumatized children could speak stares him straight in the face, he knows one of them hadn't made it.

They burned that thing alive and it did nothing. It came back. It'll always come back.

Elijah's hand had wandered to his bandaged palm without him realizing it. All of his nerves had gone numb and he felt nothing at all. The night's cold wind nipped at his skin and he couldn't feel the sting. The damp pebbles dug into the soles of his sneakers and he couldn't feel it poke into his skin. Even the punch hitting his gut wasn't soft, but he doesn't cry out. And Elijah doesn't feel his thumb piercing the healing cut on his hand or the blood that starts to stain his skin once more. He expects the pain even when it doesn't come. It doesn't burn like he expects, not at first.

A hand claps on Elijah's shoulder and he lets out a sudden hiss at the contact when it drags him back to reality. The center of his palm ached with a fresh sting as if someone had slid another knife across it. Steve glanced from the puddle of crimson filling the bandage to Elijah's pained gaze with a frown, saying gently, "Eli? What is it?"

He jerks his shoulder out of Steve's hand. "Fuck off," Elijah spat, but his words only shake instead of holding venom. He storms towards the swirl of colored trucks with his aching hand trembling by his side and pretends Harrington doesn't exist. Elijah was good at that. He just sucked at accepting help.

The EMTs either speak or eye the spot of blood on Elijah's hand, but he ignores them in favor of Tobia Wolfhart who pushes himself off his car door the second he sees his son.

The Wolfhart's are soon enveloped into one another because Tobia's arms are already open when Elijah bolts into him. He smacks into his father's chest and buries his nose into his shirt. It starts to burn when his eyes water with tears. They seep through the cloth and Tobia presses his hand over the back of Elijah's head, fingers gently stroking the raven hair. "It's okay. It's okay," he says softly as if he understands and even though Elijah knows he doesn't, it offers him comfort. It's enough to help him choke down his sobs.

Tobia was hardly there for his children. He knew what a mistake it was to ignore his wife's death by working himself every day and unintentionally neglecting the two he loved most. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, nose pressed over the top of Elijah's head, voice muffled. "I should've been there more. I should've stayed."

"You did," Elijah whispers. He never resented his father in the first place, and if he did, that's not why he was upset. He was so overwhelmed with his life it had begun to crush his chest and take away his breath. This started when Esme Wolfhart drove away from Hawkins and was found with a stomach full of pills in a hotel a state away. "You stayed. You always came back."

"I'll be here from now on. I swear I will." Tobia gives Elijah his word and gently peels him off so two pairs of blurring eyes can connect. "For you, and... And Nevaeh..." His eyes water and spillover. Elijah's never seen Tobia cry, but here he was, buds rolling down his cheeks.

Elijah's features fall apart. He couldn't have possibly forgotten that Eleven had seen her when she was exploring the Upside Down for Will. He can't lose anyone else, his already shattering heart won't let him. "No, she's not - "

"No, no," Tobia breathes. He shakes his head so quickly that his wrinkles appear. "God. No." He smoothes his thumb over Elijah's temple, dragging to the birthmark near the tragus of his ear. Elijah's sobs calm at the touch. "You can see her soon. Okay? I promise."

Nevaeh was here. If they were lucky, Hopper and Joyce found Will, too, and they were going to be safe. That's so much more than what any of them could say for Eleven. Elijah sadly casts one last, longing stare at the stars. He could see the round circle of the moon, the brightest of them all, was beaming enough to guide them home.

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Elijah knew Steve's eyes had been glued on him since he pressed his head against Nancy's shoulder. The chairs in the hospital's waiting room were hardly comfortable to rest in and after so long, his ass was starting to go numb. He tries to ignore the stare even when it feels like it's sizzling past his skin. He doesn't know what's next for them, but he tries to live in the now. He gives it his all to want to live and not just survive when he's been in survival mode for so long, Elijah knows nothing else. His armor, made of steel, strong enough to withstand anything, was easy to pick apart. It was just difficult to tell where his real skin began.

But Elijah wasn't the only survivalist. Will Byers was one tough kid, smart enough to save himself from what the kids called the Demogorgon. Elijah liked the name a lot better than calling it a monster or creature. At least he had a name for the thing that haunted his nightmares now. Even though it was gone, this was something they would have to carry for a long, long time. He wants to believe they're lucky enough that they made it. They're out of the woods, they're in the clear.

The door to their right bursts open. Elijah shot up straighter when he sees Jonathan standing there. He's not crying, not breaking down into a fit of sobs. Will had to be okay. He feels such a sense of relief that surviving feels a little more like living. Jonathan smiles at him before he nods to the line of Will's best friends.

Dustin was snoring on a sleeping Lucas's shoulder while Mike had sat there silently, pale face expressionless until he sees Jonathan. He suddenly beams and jumps out of his seat to shake the other's shoulders and wake them. "Guys, guys, he's up!" He exclaimed. Mike was practically vibrating with sudden excitement as his friends start to stir. "Will is up, guys, Will's up!"

They grunt together with tiredness and rub their eyes. Lucas practically shoves Dustin off of him with a confused glare before the three are racing each other through the hospital's hall to reach Will's room at Mike's lead, "Guys, come on!"

Meanwhile, Elijah stands when Jonathan urges him. Their arms weave and clasp onto one another's shoulders so they follow the kids side by side. Elijah can just about sense the joy his best friend was feeling. He couldn't imagine how grateful he was that his baby brother was alive and receiving treatment. Elijah prays he'll never have to understand that solace that comes after painful sorrow from loss.

"Byers!" Mike shouts as the group huddles into the hospital room.

Despite Joyce's warnings of, "Be careful - be careful with him!" Mike had launched himself over Will first and throws his arms over the frail body covered in a paper gown. Lucas pounces next and tosses himself over Will's chest, head close to his boney thigh. Dustin runs out of patience after a few seconds and dramatically yanks both boys off by the shoulders and is the next to embrace him tightly.

"Guys, guys!" Jonathan announces between chuckles. "Go easy on him."

Elijah sees why when they part and he catches the first good look he's had at Will since he disappeared. Will was smiling, cracked lips tinted blue, but parted enough to show his crooked teeth. He carries dark circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept for days. Spots of his exposed milky skin had been covered in various bruises and scratches. Elijah knew he was wrong here as he studied the evidence to the hell Will went through. He was the real survivor, wasn't he? But Will was okay no matter how he appeared. He was gonna be okay. He had to believe that.

"Hey, kid," Elijah greets softly. He steps behind Mike to ruffle Will's hair, the pad of his thumb swiping across his forehead. "You did great."

The smile Will holds spreads. He shuts his eyes tiredly at the touch Elijah provides and he wonders how much medicine the doctors provided. He must be so worn out.

"It was too dark. I couldn't find the moon," Will mumbles. He opens his eyes and Elijah swears they're brimmed with tears. His start to water too. Elijah doesn't know what to say to make it right.

But there was no moon, no stars, nothing bright enough to shine in the abyss of the Upside Down. And Will still made it home.

That leads to the bundle of Will's friends jump in to the stories of what's happened in Hawkins since he was gone. They talk about someone crying at his funeral, a kid that peed his pants at school, so excited they had trouble catching their breaths as Will tries to hang onto every word. His eyes are wide and full of interest, joy, until he burst into a fit of coughs. The outburst suddenly dies into silence.

"You okay?" Mike asks quietly.

Elijah watches as Will's face morphs into so many emotions that he can't label them. They flicker by too fast before disappearing altogether and leave a blank slate in their way. "It got me. The Demogorgon," he confesses.

"We know. It's okay. It's dead," Mike promises. He sadly smiles. "We made a new friend. She stopped it, she saved us..." His smile slips and his head falls. "But she's gone now."

"Her name's Eleven," Dustin pipes in.

"Like the number?"

"Yeah, we call her 'El' for short,"

They dive into describing Eleven's powers to Will who eagerly asks questions through his exhaustion. Elijah takes another look at him like he's afraid he'll vanish all over again. He didn't get a chance to see him one last time when he first went missing. Elijah, who positively does not like kids but embraces his big brother instinct whenever it appears around them, parts after a heartful goodbye to the small group of people that became his family during one screwed up November.

Anyways, there's one last person Elijah has to say goodbye to.

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ONE MONTH LATER.

Elijah Wolfhart and his rosy cheeks, cold hands, and brown eyes glimmering under the promise of Christmas lights has his knees pressed close to his chest on his living room couch with a thick book in his hands. The quilt his mother sewed was curled around him and carried enough warmth to get him through the snowfall of December. Elijah found solace in the collection of poetry books Nevaeh had on her bookshelf. The house had been so empty since she left, this was what made him feel closer to her while she was away.

He knew Christmas was going to suck. It was a family holiday and surviving them without their mother was hard enough. The fake pine tree was still in its cardboard box, incomplete, because he hasn't bothered to touch it even when Tobia asked him to drag it out of storage. It almost didn't feel real that the holidays were so close. Elijah's never felt more alone.

Every loud noise, sudden or not, has been causing Elijah to jump out of his skin. He's always afraid that the Demogorgon was back, creeping against his walls, hiding behind doors, waiting for the perfect moment to rip him into shreds before devouring the pieces. Elijah knows it's gone and yet, he still jerks in fear when a series of knocks erupts on the front door.

Tobia's footsteps thunder across the kitchen as he calls, "I got it!" to Elijah who attempts to settle comfortably again. Robert Frost had been going on too long about a road that wasn't taken or something. He tries to zone out and figures it's someone else offering condolences in the form of words or baked goods to Tobia in Nevaeh's name.

He doesn't expect to pick his head up when Steve Harrington enters his living room.

All of the alarms running Elijah's system start to go off, but he pretends to be nonchalant. He scratches his thumb on the page's corner. He can see Steve shuffling his feet nervously under the powerful stink eye Tobia has on him. "I thought it'd be good for us to talk," he finally admits.

It's been exactly one month since Will returned while Elijah fought the Demogorgon alongside Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve. He hasn't heard from Steve since and that's the way he preferred it. He wanted whatever they had to end there. They set fire to that monster together and it shouldn't mean they had to be friends now. Elijah doesn't know if they ever could be because to have a friend, you would have to trust them. And he doesn't believe he could ever trust Steve again.

"I don't know what gave you that idea," Elijah responds calmly despite the way his gut starts to churn. He doesn't know if it's with anxiety or rage. It's probably both and that's a horribly dangerous mix. It's like blending a lit match and gasoline.

"Steve," Tobia begins, his voice oddly quiet and shakey, "I think it's best if you leave. You can see Eli doesn't want you here."

"It's important." Steve is begging now. Elijah knows he's flashing wide, desperate puppy eyes in hopes he'll get what he wants. He used to use that stupid trick on him and he'd always, always fall for it. "Please, Mr. Wolfhart. Elijah. I just want to apologize."

Elijah's chest starts to burn. He doesn't know if he's going to burst into tears or scream and neither seems like the right solution. He takes a deep breath to calm the hurricane starting to swirl. "Fine," he utters after a beat of silence. Elijah senses there's still tension drifting and finally lifts his head. He reassures Tobia, "It's okay, dad. I can hear him out. If I don't like it, his ass is back on the curb."

He knows why his father is hesitating. Although Tobia unintentionally kept a distance from his children, he also noticed things every parent had in their blood. He saw how much pain Elijah carried when he stopped bringing Steve around. He soon caught onto the rumors that spread around Hawkins and easily put the pieces together. There wasn't a single Wolfhart that trusted Steve.

"Shout if you need me, Eli," Tobia proposes while sending one last distrusting glance to Steve. Elijah nods and watches his father leave before pretending whatever words the book had to offer was a lot more interesting than what Steve had to give.

The air could've been sliced through with a blade. Steve was acting as if he was the one missing a step and receiving a rush of anxiety. "The house hasn't changed much," is what he finally gives.

Elijah preferred ripping out a knife and cutting the tension. He pressed his lips into a thin line and spits, "Did you come here to talk about the fucking living room paint colors?"

"No," Steve whispers. He flinches as if Elijah jumped off the couch and physically struck him. That probably would have hurt less than the poison spat in his direction. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Eyes pretending to be locked on the pages of his book, Elijah flatly says, "Okay?"

This prompts Steve to suck in a deep breath. He slowly crosses the living room, the soles of his Nike sneakers pressing into the carpet as he inched closer with every word. "I'm an asshole and the worst best friend on this planet. I should've told you... I don't know. You've been my best friend since day one. You mean so much to me and I know I ruined that. I don't know why I..." Steve trails off.

He could've made Elijah bitterly laugh if he didn't hate and love Steve so much at that moment. "Why you kissed me?" He asks with emphasis. His anger starts to boil. "You made me your dirty little secret, you dick - "

"I know!" Steve exclaims. He takes another breath and quiets. "I know." He slowly lowers himself on the arm of the couch where Elijah yanks his feet away. "Eli, I don't... I don't know what I felt. I wish I could tell you because... I know I care about you. And I care about Nancy." Elijah takes a quick peek over the cover of his book and notices Steve's eyebrows have furrowed with confusion. He's desperately trying to sort the tangled mess in his head. "I don't know what it is. Romantically? Platonically? It's all screwed up because of me and I'm still... I'm still trying to sort it out. And I shouldn't have used you. I'm so sorry, Eli."

"Okay." Elijah breathes in deeply through his nose and feels a sharp sting that follows. He casually turns a page in the poetry book he was pretending to read. "I don't forgive you."

The relief Steve held for a split second vanished. His features completely fell with both disappointment and surprise. "What?" He questions.

The hardcover book snapped shut and Elijah slowly sat up. "I am under no obligation to accept your apology after what you did to me, Harrington." He refuses to cry, but his voice starts to break when he mumbles, "I loved you, you know. I probably have since fucking kindergarten or... Or when you liked my firetruck toy. And you can't look me in the eye and tell me you didn't know."

Another pause follows. Steve's glance had moved to the wall as if paint drying was suddenly the most interesting thing this world had to offer and this only confirms what Elijah already knew.

"You used me, Steve, because you knew I loved you. You can sort out your feelings, but I'm not going to forgive you right now." Elijah sits up straighter. "I don't know if I ever can."

"It's different now. I'm different," Steve says, and this time, he's staring straight at Elijah. There's no silent fight for dominance through anger. He's wordlessly pleading for something he doesn't deserve in this state of sorrow. "And I want to figure out what I feel, but I... I can't do it without my best friend."

"I'm not your best friend."

"Yes, you are! You're my best friend!" Steve raises his voice. Elijah remains silent but maintains the perfect, harsh glare. "You've always been my best friend. You're not a dick like Tommy and you're not stuck-up... You're the best, Eli. And I know don't deserve you and I'm the shittiest person asking for a friendship anyways - "

Elijah, who has always liked a challenge, cuts him off. "You want a friendship?" He leans forward and the cushions shift underneath him. "Then earn it. Maybe I'll give you a second chance, maybe I won't. Maybe you can fuck off and I won't care at all. But forgiveness isn't about what you deserve. It's about what you earn and what you're asking for has to be earned."

"Okay."

The one-word response Steve responds with catches Elijah off-guard. He says it so quick, so sure, that he thinks he heard him wrong. "What?"

"I'd take a chance when it comes to you over having nothing forever," Steve answeres with a calm shrug. "I don't know how. But I'll figure it out and I'll do it."

There's no right way to respond. Elijah's head is too stuck in the clouds to come up with something. He doesn't know if he's confused, angry still, or even a little happy. He can only sit there like a dumbfounded idiot. Steve is sorry. Elijah doesn't know if he believes that. He also wants to prove to him just how sorry he is even if it means he won't be given forgiveness. It already meant a lot to Elijah.

Elijah is quite literally saved by the bell when the phone on the kitchen wall started to ring. He doesn't miss Steve's eyes glaze over him when he jumps, but he dodges any questions and further conversation by kicking his blanket off, tucking his book away, and practically sprinting to the phone. He's breathless when he yanks it off the receiver and mutters into the speaker, "Hello?"

A voice on the other end whispers, "Eli?"

His stomach drops. Elijah shifts until he's out of Steve's earshot before mumbling, "Nevaeh, you can't keep calling and... And asking me to pick you up. I can't. You need help."

"No, I need you. I need dad," Nevaeh cries to him. He knows she's going to sob her way into guilting him. "Please, Eli, I want to go home! I'm fine, I can go home! This place just makes me want to use more!"

"Then it means you're not fine, Nevaeh," Elijah chokes out for what felt like the hundredth time.

Nevaeh did this at least twice a day before night would hit. She called the Wolfhart household from where she was safely receiving treatment which only meant she was going through withdrawal. The last time Elijah saw Nevaeh, she was trembling, watery eyes bloodshot, and her anxiety clearly skyrocketing. He couldn't imagine the mess she had to untangle in her own head without the drugs.

"Eli, please - "

Elijah swallows. "I love you, Nevaeh. This is me trying to help you."

He hears one last, desperate shriek for him before Elijah does one of the hardest things and slams the phone onto the wall with a loud click.

The loss of Nevaeh's voice and presence only hurts Elijah more because he wanted to help. He wanted to cure his baby sister because if it was possible, he'd have done it already. He loves her so much and he knows this is the only way to save her. Elijah couldn't be the hero she needed.

Soft footsteps round the corner before Steve appears. He takes one look at Elijah's state and questions, "Everything okay?"

Elijah knows he's trying to earn what he doesn't deserve. He's taking the first step in the right direction, but he can't handle it right now. He shoves Steve's shoulder towards the front door. "Get. Out."

The other boy has the nerve to looked crushed. He parts his lips, a whisper of Elijah's nickname passing through, but it only brings another wave of rage. His face flushes with it and his arms extend to deliver another push directly into Steve's chest. "Get out! I don't want your pity - I don't - I don't want anything from you!"

"Okay, okay!" Steve exclaims. His eyes have widened while he has the nerve to look slightly afraid. He promises, "I'm going. I'm sorry," and that's it. He doesn't offer anything else and Elijah didn't want him to. The angry boy who always needed a friend, his sister, anyone to be there, only wanted to be alone. And maybe the first step was respecting that.

Elijah watches him leave. He makes sure the headlights of Steve's car disappear from his house and even his street before something in him finally snapped. Elijah Wolfhart felt it growing darker and darker as he storms through his house.

The first picture he sees is in a golden frame with a shape etched into the square. Behind the glass, four faces smiled at him. He doesn't recognize the smiles plastered on the faces of himself, his parents, and Nevaeh. It's not right. It's so painfully hard to stare at the gazes of what looked like a happy family and was never real at all.

The mother Elijah had, Esme Wolfhart, wasn't the picture perfect mother everyone dreamed of. He watched what happened during her adrenaline-filled highs. She'd be desperate to rearrange the house, steam the rug and couch, and would leave the mess behind. She would change her career every time Elijah blinked. Esme cherished her family one day and would disappear for days, sometimes weeks, the next. And then she would crash. If they were lucky enough to have her home, it'd take just as long for Esme to get out of bed before the next high hit.

Elijah doesn't know if she was at her highest or lowest when she swallowed nearly the entire bottle of the prescribed pills meant to help her and became one of the stars.

It destroyed what was left of the Wolfhart's. Tobia thought working nearly every day and night would be the cure to his grief. Nevaeh didn't have highs, she only crashed. And Elijah was left to pick up their pieces of whatever was left no matter how sharp they were, even when they sliced his skin all while he grieved, he had highs, lows, and some days wanted to be in space, too.

Elijah's hand swipes through the air with a loud cry and smacks the picture of the wall. It smashes on impact and shatters across the floor into cracks so small he can't see the pieces. His back hits the wall before Elijah, full of so much more pain than he could bear, broke so badly that the shattered pieces were nothing. They weren't even shards you could see close-up. Elijah was beyond healing.

A few pained sobs erupt from his throat. Elijah presses his fist into his mouth to stifle the sound, the tears that fall spotting his knuckles. The wet, blurred vision turns to crystal from the shard glass surrounding him.

It reminds Elijah of the stars.

END OF ACT ONE.

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author's note:

oh hoooooo what is this?? the last chapter of act one?? yes!! i hope it wasn't anticlimactic buuuuut maybe it was.

yep so i tried to squeeze everything into here. nevaeh and elijah's experience is heavily passed on my own personal one. i've definitely been on the each ends of the phone to crying saying they want to come home, wanting to help them, but knowing they were in a place helping them more than i could, and wanting to go home too. it's not easy but it's important to remember you can't heal an addict. nevaeh is in a good place, i promise.

also the huge apology scene we've been waiting for!! elijah does NOT have to forgive steve just yet!! he doesn't owe him forgiveness at all actually!! i was trying to portray steve's confusion about his sexuality. he definitely cares about nancy, but he's confusing platonic feelings for romantic ones. all will be fixed soon.

anyways thank you for reading if you've read this far! i'm so glad i wrapped up act one finally. i'm so excited to get into act two. thank you again for sticking around.

- koda

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