WELCOME BACK TO HAWKINS.

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STARCROSSED (book one).
°•        CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR        •°

"        I DON'T WANT TO BE EVEN,
STEVE, I FUCKING HURT YOU.       "

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SIX MONTHS LATER.

ELIJAH NEVER THOUGHT OF HIMSELF AS A COWARD. Tough, resilient, and ambitious, sure, hell, he could be whiny as fuck from time to time, but not a coward. Elijah Wolfhart is a coward, didn't sit right on his tongue. However, that all changed as the WELCOME TO HAWKINS sign appeared. Six months... Six months ago he ran away like a fucking coward on a journey to find himself. And he did. Elijah had never felt so different. It took a medical dosage adjustment, bouncing from bus stops and rundown motels to find a steadier spot. Being away from Hawkins was the biggest bonus of them all. Elijah could finally clear his head and think without living in fear of monsters living in the shadows... And not just some assholes that know he's gay. None of this is to say Elijah's fully healed, though. That's something, realistically thinking, he would never be.

However, he does miss home. That he knows for sure.

"Wow, what interesting tattoos. I wonder what stories those have," Elijah heard an older woman muse. He slowly pulled his hood down. He hadn't realized he was tapping his leg with his tattooed fingers. Three of them, his pointer, middle, and ring, had a bold letter marked into the skin - N. E. T. Nevaeh. Esme. Tobia. The stranger tilted her head in wonder. She had an elder appearance - ghost white hair, wrinkles, thin gold glasses perched on her nose - but her eyes were dark but kind, like they held a thousand good tales to tell.

Elijah glanced from the three letters and back to her with a shy smile. "Thank you." He usually hated sitting with others on the bus, but he scooted over to make room for her. "They're for my family. I'm... Heading home to see them now."

A liver-spotted wrinkled hand gently patted the back of Elijah's hand, fingers brushing over the tattoos she noticed. "That's lovely, dear. I'm sure they're excited to see you again."

Elijah stifled a soft snort and shook his head. It's been six long months. Nevaeh and Tobia... All his friends... They must hate his guts by now. Maybe they've even moved on from him already, he thinks with an anxious clench of his gut. He wouldn't blame them, but the thought still hurt. "I'm not sure about that," Elijah replied tentatively. He didn't even want to think about their reactions when he got back-

"Oh, I am." She smiled at him, and Elijah felt warm and comforted by the sight. "How long have you been away from home?"

Elijah hated that it was hard for him to keep things to himself. He often felt like he could tell strangers his darkest trauma since they'd never see him again anyway. "A long time. Six months," he answered.

She released a soft whistle. "That is a long time," she agreed. "But still, sweetheart, they're your family, and family is family. They'll be ecstatic to see you again. I promise you as much."

Elijah smiled back, appreciating her kindness as it was something he needed, and nodded. He could only hope to agree.

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"MOTHERFUCKER!"

Elijah's head snapped back from the force of Nevaeh's knuckles smashing into his nose. "Ow! Jesus Christ, Nevaeh!" He shouted, his hand flying up to catch the droplets of blood starting to trickle from his throbbing nostrils. Elijah stumbled back as Nevaeh started beating on his chest, frustrated screams releasing from her gritted teeth.

Of all the ways Elijah pictured seeing his younger sister again, this didn't make the top ten scenarios. A hug, a relieved "I missed you!" from them both, sure, but a punch in the face? He never saw that coming. Literally. His face was still pulsing. Nevaeh had come running out of the Wolfhart house when she saw Elijah amble up the property, fists clenched, and a scowl painting her face seconds before the curse and fists flew at him.

Elijah tried to deflect her blows. "Okay, Nevaeh - Nevaeh, I know you're upset!"

Nevaeh's punches were getting weaker. They didn't hurt much in the first place; she wasn't trying to really beat up her big brother, but the jabs still made him stumble. "Upset?! YOU THINK I'M UPSET?! I'M PISSED AT YOU! You! You didn't call! You didn't write!" She furiously shouted, her voice rising into another scream with a punch following every word.

Elijah fought off her hits by grabbing her wrists and holding them away. "That's enough, Nevaeh! Stop hitting me! I did write to you!" He defended.

A hurt scoff fell from her lips. "Yeah, a few postcards you signed. Thanks so much! I'm so glad to know you were alive!" Nevaeh shouted before stopping suddenly, taking a few steps back and shaking her head. Her curls fell in her face, but they weren't a curtain for the way Elijah saw her eyes fill with tears and her lower lip tremble as the anger at him subsided. It was replaced by something he was equally familiar with... Pain. "How could you leave me? Me?" She jabbed her pointer finger into her chest. "I would've helped you if something was wrong. You could've just talked to me," Nevaeh's voice dropped to a hurt whisper. "I didn't know where you were. I didn't know if you were okay. You have no idea the hell I've been through for six. Fucking. Months."

Elijah didn't know how to reply. He wished he did, considering this was all his fault. He knows Nevaeh wanted to be there for him when she found out he was diagnosed with his manic depression. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to the punch.

"I want to hate you so badly. So badly." Nevaeh had broken into a sob as she rubbed her wet eyes with the heels of her hands. Elijah only felt worse. "I don't. But I'm so mad at you that it hurts, Eli. I'm so fucking pissed at you."

"I know, Nevaeh," Elijah whispered because he does. He knows better than most what it feels like to hate and love at the same time with all of your broken heart. He was just the one who broke the heart in this scenario. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

Just then, Elijah's stomach growled. He couldn't help it. He had a small egg salad sandwich on the bus, which was nearly half a day ago at this point. Elijah's lips twitched into a small smile as his sister glared at him, annoyed. "Come on." She pointed behind her at the Wolfhart house. "Dad should be home soon. He'll want to see you, too. I'll make you something to eat."

Never had Elijah felt so out of place in a home that was supposed to be his too. He almost asked if he should take his shoes off before walking in, before remembering they never cared before. He still toed at his beat-up boots uncertainly before sinking into the kitchen chair, settling his duffle bag next to him, and folding his hands in front of him anxiously. Nevaeh had her back to him the entire time, refusing to look at him while she stirred some mac and cheese. She was still avoiding eye contact as she scooped a generous amount into a bowl for him and grabbed a carton of orange juice, pouring some into a tall glass. For a moment, Elijah thought of their late mother. Esme Wolfhart may not have been the best cook, but it brought her joy to do her best for her kids, up until, well...

"Thank you," Elijah said as he jabbed a fork into the yellow-gooey mess in front of him. Nevaeh simply nodded. She watched for a few minutes in silence as he ate a few bites, dark eyes locked on his ceramic bowl to avoid truly looking at him. Elijah took a long drink before speaking again. "I know you're hurt. And angry-"

"Pissed," Nevaeh corrected.

Elijah took a deep breath. "Pissed at me. And you have every right to be."

Her hand curled into a fist, and Elijah feared for a moment being swung at again. "You're damn right I do."

"I had another episode. It was worse than all the others," Elijah whispered. He knew it wasn't an excuse, but he also knew Nevaeh would be familiar with what he meant. Nancy and her would team up to force Elijah out of bed, clean up, and eat too many times before school. But those were depressive spells. Elijah inhaled sharply before breathing out, "It wasn't depression. It was a manic episode like Doctor Owen warned us about. Like when mom... When she left..." He trailed off. He could hardly believe he was admitting this to his baby sister of all people. He could see her eyes growing sad at the memory, and started to backtrack. "I didn't want to die. I don't think I did. I just wanted to find out who I was."

Nevaeh finally met his gaze. For the first time, Elijah could see more than just hurt and rage behind her features. He read how betrayed she felt being left behind. "I would have helped you," she said softly.

It was Elijah's turn to stare back with regret. "I had to do it myself. I'm so sorry, Nevaeh."

It was quiet again as he went back to swirling the sticky noodles on his fork as Nevaeh processed that. She finally sniffled and nodded. "It doesn't mean I forgive you, but I understand," she said. It was a start. Elijah could understand that too. Nevaeh cleared her throat and shifted. "Did you find yourself? Looks like you got some pretty bitchin' tattoos." Her attention was diverted to the ones she could see - the spiderweb on the back of his hand and to the opposite of it, N.E.T. "NET?" She read aloud. "What the hell could that stand for?" She asked with a following snort.

Elijah nervously tapped his fingers a few times, a signal he was longing to balance a cigarette between them. "Nevaeh. Esme. Tobia. Nothing special, I guess," he mused quietly. Nevaeh softened at that, but he cleared his throat and moved on. "I was sleeping on buses... Benches... Not for long, thank God. Someone noticed and took pity on me," Elijah began.

"Who was it?"

"His name's Joaquin. He owned a tattoo parlor." Elijah's rapid tapping picked up speed. "He's been through hard times too, said he understood, and would pay me to clean up his shop after hours, and I could sleep there. He gave me a few tattoos too."

Meeting Joaquin was probably the best thing to have happened to Elijah while he was gone. He was around Tobia's age with so many tattoos and piercings that startled the boy when he first met him before seeing the gentleness underneath. Joaquin had been out of rehab for almost a year at this point and assumed Elijah was going through the same, to which he never bothered correcting him. Elijah knew he was returning to Hawkins eventually; there was no point in caring about others, but he did. Joaquin became a mentor figure in his life, and leaving him behind was difficult. It took him a long time to find himself and muster the strength to leave him.

"So, was it just the family you left behind and a weird spiderweb? Or anything else? 'Cause I'm still trying to figure out who you are, too," Nevaeh spat. "I'm definitely not looking at my big brother anymore."

Well-deserved, Elijah thought, but that didn't stop the sting he felt in his chest from her poisonous words. He took off his jacket so she could see the others he had grown to love. Two black bands twisted around his upper right bicep, a small video game figure on his forearm, and a few more she couldn't see unless he was about to take off his pants.

"What's the little Mario on your arm for?" Nevaeh questioned.

"I don't know. I like Mario."

Another thing Elijah realized he liked was pain. The thoughts of longing to take the flame of his lighter to his skin or pressing a tad harder when he was shaving started to fade when he lay down and allowed Joaquin to drag a needle across his skin. It was the only time Elijah's mind went quiet, and he could figure things out. Was it healthy? Painting his skin with tattoos because he thoroughly enjoyed the pain it came with? It was better than taking a flame or razor to his skin, he supposed, even with the intent behind it.

All these thoughts made Elijah think of something else. "What about you? Are you okay?" He asked. He didn't want to push Nevaeh, but she had no way of writing to him while he was away. If she relapsed, Elijah wouldn't have known.

But Nevaeh nodded even though she was a bit hesitant. "A few close calls. But I'm clean. I'm okay." She inhaled sharply through her nose. "Hawkins has been quiet, too." Elijah didn't ask; he was grateful Nevaeh supplied the information anyway. He didn't want a reason to run away twice.

The front door suddenly opened behind them, and Elijah braced himself. He's been dreading seeing his father again. It felt like a cue from the end of Nevaeh's sentence that the worst is to come now. Tobia was surely going to give him an earful for leaving without notice. Elijah slowly turned in his chair, prepared to defend himself the second he'd see his father again, but it wasn't Tobia there. No, Elijah thought, no, not yet- he wasn't ready-

"Nevaeh!" Steve Harrington exclaimed as he fumbled to shut the front door. "You know how ice cream is the perfect solution for any heartbreak? I'm totally getting that job! You know, at Scoops-"

Steve stopped. Suddenly, Elijah wished he were facing his father because this couldn't be any worse than what Tobia had to say. He never pictured what it would be like to see Steve again because every image was always too painful. Running to hug one another like all their problems would fall away? As if Elijah didn't stand Steve up on their first official date to run away like he was the coward he accused Steve of being? To think they could pick up where they left off would be foolish. It was worse thinking about Steve being mad at him. He had every right to be. The same way that Elijah yelled at him every chance he got and was furious every time he saw his face, Steve wouldn't be wrong to do the same. He should. Elijah knew he deserved it and more.

So Elijah prepared himself for the worst. He slowly rose and planted his feet, expecting Steve to start throwing as many punches as he could, only stopping when Elijah was bloody and defeated on the ground. He sighed deeply and quietly said, "Hi, Steve."

"Eli?" Steve whispered. His cupid-bow lips twitched as they trembled. "Eli?" He says again like he can't believe who's really in front of him. Elijah's nickname seemed to be the only thing he could say. He's stunned, pinned in place by Elijah's dark brown eyes becoming glassy. Steve reached out to touch him, but Elijah jerked away.

No. Look what you did to him, Elijah thought before forcing himself to look at Steve, really look at him. Steve looked fine on the outside. He was standing on two feet, limbs intact and all, but there was a certain exhaustion underneath the surface anyone could pick up on if they looked close enough. The bags under his deeply tired eyes, resting over pale skin, and the way Steve's knees shook with all the strength it took to hold himself up. It was like he'd been running for years and not only the six months that Elijah had been gone for. His heart broke at the sight. He never meant to put anyone, Steve especially, through that. He did this. He caused this.

Steve cleared his throat and tried pulling himself together. He wiped at his eyes, then his nose, and requested, "Nevaeh, could we have a minute, please?"

"No."

She said the one word so quickly that it was almost missed. Elijah turned to see that Nevaeh's stare had hardened. He opened his mouth to defend himself, insisting he could take care of himself, but stopped. Her mistrusting glare wasn't directed at Steve. It was directed at him. Nevaeh didn't trust Elijah to be left alone with Steve without hurting him. Somehow, that stung worse. Since when did she become so close with Steve? He thought to himself, then realized a moment later how selfish that was. Elijah should've been glad they leaned on each other in his absence, but now he felt the hurt they both did.

Steve's shoulders slumped. "Nevaeh," he pleaded.

Nevaeh's eyes scan from Steve to Elijah with the same mistrusting glare before she sighed and nodded. "Just... Shout if you need anything." Elijah isn't sure which of them she's speaking to, but she finally leaves them to sit at the table by themselves.

The silence is so quiet and deafening all at once. Elijah feared everything Steve could throw at him, whether it was fists or words. He was convinced either would be justified. However, the problem was Steve just looked... Sad. His hands tremble as they reach to rest over Elijah's. A tragic smile was weakly plastered on his face. "You have tattoos now," he admired softly, brown eyes dancing from the few he could see.

"Steve-" Elijah started, but Steve kept babbling.

"Any weird piercings I should know about, too? Not that I'm against them, I'd just like a heads up-"

"Steve."

"I mean, you've been gone for a while, and I gotta say, I love the changes! Just a big adjustment, I think-"

"Steve, please-"

"And you haven't shaved for a while! You really look brand new-"

"STEVE!" Elijah finally broke, shouting the other's name so he would stop rambling about every little thought that came to his mind. Steve leaped out of his skin and pulled his hands back. He looked like a frightened little kid, and Elijah's heart, which had already been broken, shattered into pieces of dust at the sight. "Sorry- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled," he quickly apologized.

Steve shook his head. "It's okay," he started quietly, "I'm just glad you're back."

Oh, Steve, Elijah wanted to weep. He's such a piece of shit. He wished a hole in the ground would open up below him so he could crawl inside and disappear forever, but doing so would mean leaving again. Elijah couldn't bear to do that to them again.

"It's not okay," Elijah corrected. He rubbed his hands over his face. It was so hard for him to talk about this, which he loathed. He's always been so open about emotions he felt because Tobia taught him there was no shame in feeling. Yet here Elijah was, struggling. "Steve... I'm so sorry I left you. Especially after... What happened with us. That was no way to treat you."

"I mean it. It's okay, Eli, I understand," Steve said again, but Elijah desperately shook his head.

Not because Steve understood. Because he didn't. Because Elijah didn't deserve atonement right now. Why did Steve have to become such a kind and forgiving person, dammit? "It is not okay, Steve!" Elijah exclaimed. He hit the table counter so hard that his orange juice almost toppled over, but Steve shot out to catch it. Elijah barely noticed. "I don't want you to forgive me right now! I want you to be angry with me!" It still felt like shit seeing Nevaeh be pissed at him, but it felt better knowing he deserved it. Steve's kindness was something he didn't do anything to earn.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed over his puppy dog eyes. It made Elijah want to punch him square in the face for it. "But I'm not mad at you. I'm just relieved you came back," he said calmly, like it was the most obvious reply in the world.

And it's not fair. Elijah was so mad at Steve for his betrayal for so long. He held onto that hate and anger because it was all he had. Elijah hadn't even given him an explanation, and he was already being offered forgiveness on a silver platter when he made Steve work for his. Elijah blinked rapidly to fight his tears and whispered, "Tough shit. I hurt you, Steve."

Steve smiled sadly again. "We're even then, I guess."

His words made Elijah's head snap up in alarm. "I don't want to be even, Steve, I fucking hurt you. Having mania isn't an excuse for that," he retorted.

Steve reached for his hands again and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Elijah's, the pad stroking the curves of the web tattooed into the skin. There was a beat of silence, one that Elijah was getting used to. And then he asked quietly, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

The truth was... Elijah didn't have an answer. With as deep in his episode he was, he wasn't even truly sure what he wanted until he was gone. He wanted to find himself. He wanted to be someone who wasn't a victim or a survivor or even worse, someone with multiple mental illnesses. He just wanted to be Elijah Wolfhart. Joaquin helped him get back on his medication with pills and extra doses that worked this time. Whoever Elijah was before his mental health crashed, he was starting to feel like him again. That's why he came back.

So maybe, deep down, Elijah supposed he had his answer. He slowly nodded. "I did. I'm taking my medicine again and it helps," he confirmed. Steve looked relieved at that. He turned his hand over so he could cup Steve's. "But I need you to understand Steve... I'm not going to always be..." Elijah paused to think of the word before settling with, "Okay. Just because I'm on medicine doesn't mean I'll never do something like this again, or worse. I'm an asshole on my best days. You can do better, you can find someone better than me-"

"I don't want better. I want you," Steve insisted.

God, it made Elijah struggle between wanting to hit or kiss him. Maybe both. "I'm telling you, I may just... Need more time." Elijah inhaled deeply and braced himself for what he would hear after his next words. "I don't want you to wait for me just because you unfairly forgive me. I need to earn that, Steve."

"That's okay." The smile almost lit up Steve's face. "I'll wait."

It was Steve's turn to forgive Elijah, he thought sadly. But it was without the consideration that Steve had already forgiven him long ago because he had done nothing to deserve it.

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author's note:

this chapter has been so so long overdue!! elijah and steve bickering like an old married couple over if he deserves to be forgiven or not LMAO i adore them 😭 it's only getting worse from here sir. so no, they're not just shoving aside the abandonment trauma and getting back together right away! i said this is a slow burn and the slow burn is burning dammit!

i'm thinking of posting a snippet of steve's pov after elijah abandoned him on their first date too so i'd love to hear if you guys would like to read that bc clearly a lot happened if nevaeh's on steve's side, not eli's. 👀

oh and here's a collage of elijah's new tattoos!!

so the mario one is pixelated like the first few games that came out and a lot smaller than what's pictured up there, but it's just to give you a visual. the skull/sword one is on his ribcage. the upside down (see what i did there?) tree one below it is on his leg, and the bandaid one is on the side of his neck. that one is in solidarity from where billy tried to strangle him, but i'll mention that more later. our boy is TATTED!!

anyway thank you for reading!! YAY let's get this act started BROSKIS!!

- koda

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