𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 - so long, farewell

━━━━━━━

 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 made it without Joyce Byers.

 Back on that day, Scarlet and Eleven hadn't been able to pull themselves off the ground. They remained as a weeping mass of limbs all the while Steve tried his damned hardest to hold them together, despite the fact that even he had been shedding a few tears.

 The Byers had tiptoed over; all three of them. Will descended to his knees, arms easily curling around the siblings. Jonathan had even reached out for Steve, a silent hand resting atop his shoulder... it wasn't a secret to him that Steve's father was just as bad as his own, Jonathan knew Steve looked to Hopper for that fatherly support.

 Joyce... Joyce had whispered into their ears. Her warm voice and soothing words had gotten the tears to flow silently, sobs trapped behind iron bars. Her fingers were feather-light as she tucked the girls into her neck, feeling tears slide down her own cheeks.

 Joyce promised them that she'd look after them, that the Byers' home was theirs.

 The night of the fire, Eleven had returned with Max. It had taken so much strength for the sisters to part... but their friends couldn't be left alone... Max couldn't be left alone. Scarlet had trailed with Steve and Robin in utter silence.

 The Harrington household was stone-cold when they'd arrived, and soon enough Scarlet and Robin were draped in Steve's old sweaters and bundled beneath blankets. Scarlet hadn't made a peep, but listening as Steve and Robin muttered between themselves had eased her heart... if only by a sliver.

 There was no way to describe how Scarlet felt. She couldn't quite understand the things bubbling within her gut. She was angry, so very angry... but that seemed to be a common emotion now. She was somehow... still elated that her friends were alive, that the children were okay, and that Steve Harrington loved her.

 It wasn't enough, however, to quell the pain.

 Scarlet couldn't truly remember breaking out into tears once more, face buried within a blanket as she tried to muffle her sobs. She had thought Steve and Robin were asleep, but the moment a cry trailed through the air, they both shot up within a heartbeat.

 They all joined one another on the floor, resting atop a makeshift mattress made from old blankets as they stuck together. Scarlet had been sandwiched between them, a hand curled around Robin's while her head rested atop Steve's chest. It had been enough to lull each of them to sleep... but not enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

 The hardest part of it all had been when Scarlet deemed it necessary to visit the cabin. Even though she'd been told that it had been ruined; beaten and battered by the Mind Flayer... She had been determined.

 Eleven had joined her, and as ever, Steve was there too.

 Scarlet just wanted something of Hoppers to keep. Be it an old flannel, one of the tapes stuffed in the kitchen drawer... She'd fished through the rubble, swiping away old and broken planks of wood, manoeuvring around patches of blood that had been left behind.

 She'd crumbled when her eyes caught sight of a piece of paper torn at the edges. It had been a picture she'd drawn; the one of her family. Herself, Hopper and Eleven all captured within a picture that Steve had taken at her request. She'd sketched it, leaving it free of colour... now there was a splatter of blood. Right on Hopper's chest.

 It was taunting, but Scarlet kept it all the same.

 The girls had gathered their clothes, old trinkets and keepsakes — Scarlet had even tucked away an old box of Sara's things... it didn't seem right to leave them behind, even if Hopper was gone.

 Everything they'd saved had been stuffed inside the Byers residence; Scarlet and Eleven moved into Will's room, leaving the brothers to share a space once more, just like they had when they were younger.

 Scarlet couldn't find a fault with any of them. Joyce had slipped right into the role of a doting mother, pretending as though each and every child and teen beneath her leaking roof were all her very own. She had always had sons, and now she had two daughters to join the fray.

 Will... he'd been a rock. He would always peek around the girl's door and mutter a sweet goodnight. He'd be the first to greet them each and every morning. Will Byers did whatever he could for them, because they'd done the same for him. They had never given up on him.

 It was strange to have Jonathan about, after all, Scarlet and Jonathan had never grown close. But even still he followed in his mother's footsteps, he copied Will and made sure their home was fit for the both of them. He had two sisters now, too.

 So now, three months after the Mall had burned to the ground and the town of Hawkin's had deemed it a 'terrible tragedy that rocked the community', Scarlet found herself standing on her own two feet. She waved and slipped now and again... but time healed all wounds, that's what people said, right?

 She hoped it to be true, for the ache in her heart still rocked her to sleep every single night.

 "Hey," Steve's voice broke through Scarlet's bleak thoughts. His soothing and warm voice always seemed to snap her out just in time before she descended into utter madness. Steve cocked his head, a sly piece of hair slipping across his eyes as he shifted on the ground.

 The two of them had left things to the very last minute; while the Byers — and seemingly every child in Hawkins — were helping to pack away Joyce's home in preparation for the move to California... Steve and Scarlet had been scrambling to cram the remainder of Steve's belongings into boxes.

 It was strange to even think about leaving Hawkins behind again. Scarlet knew there would always be a tether tying her to the dreary little town; be it the lab still towering over decaying woods, or the fact that her father's headstone resided towards the outskirts... but she couldn't stay.

 College had always been in the cards — a normal life. Hopper had wanted it for her, and Scarlet was determined to take it. So when Joyce announced that Doctor Owens had found them somewhere to relocate, somewhere only miles away from the school she and Steve had been accepted into... Scarlet hadn't found herself arguing.

 It would be hard to say goodbye to Max, the little sister that Scarlet had only grown closer to since Billy and Hopper had left them... but Scarlet couldn't stay. She couldn't leave Eleven.

 "You okay?" Steve tried again, hands still hovering midair, fingers curled around an ugly old shirt he didn't even know he owned, "You keep disappearing on me."

 Scarlet struggled to find her voice for a moment as she stared down at the box before her. It was crammed with sweaters that Steve had been willing to toss... Only Scarlet had decided that she wasn't willing to watch them go. They'd bickered like a couple of kids until Scarlet announced that they were hers now.

 "It's just —" Scarlet sighed, fingers grappling for the tape as she sealed the box shut, "It's weird to be leaving again."

 "I know. I never imagined I'd ever escape this place." Steve's chuckle was muted, pitiful almost, "Thought I'd get stuck working for my dad or something... he still doesn't think I'll go through with it, you know?"

 Mr Harrington had laughed when Steve declared he'd be leaving home. The man had taken Steve's words as nothing more than a silly little jest, yet when Steve flashed his college acceptance letter, his father had gone silent.

 The paper started with bold letters — CONGRATULATIONS! — only to be followed by Steve's name. He'd forgone the idea of trying to excel in Math or English. He couldn't bare the thought of struggling through lectures and novels stuffed with words he couldn't read. He couldn't quite get used to the idea of having to slip on a pair of glasses whenever he had to read or watch television, so there was no way he was going to force himself to suffer.

 Sports had always been something that relieved his stress, something he's always enjoyed and been good at... so what better career to pursue, than teaching kids how to toss a ball into a hoop? He'd spent days and weeks trying to figure out what he wanted to do... when Scarlet had thrown the idea of teaching kids into the air.

 He was a natural around them, but he couldn't for the life of him think of what he'd be able to teach them... Until one night Lucas Sinclair had announced that he was going to try out for the Hawkin's high basketball team... and he'd come to Steve for help.

 After nights upon a court with a ball in hand, after days of helping Lucas perfect his technique... Steve had known exactly what he wanted to do.

 So to say that his father had been surprised was an understatement.

 "Well, your dad's an asshole," Scarlet muttered, pushing the box aside. She popped open another, carefully folding away the stack of shirts Steve had left on the floor, "Oh, ew."

 "What?"

 Scarlet's utter dismay had drawn his attention away from the plastic trophy in his hands... it was an old prize from a basketball game he'd won at the tiny little age of seven years old. But Scarlet couldn't draw her eyes away from the shirt dangling from her painted nails.

 It was hideous. It was heinous. Who the hell ever thought to mass-produce an ugly green and brown polo shirt? It looked like it'd been dragged through the mud, only to pick up leaves and twigs as it went... The tag was still attached ​​— Steve hadn't even worn it.

 She held it higher, "Please don't tell me you're bringing this. You haven't even worn it before."

 "I've worn it."

 "The tag is still attached. Liar."

 Steve pouted, and the scar dusting his lip was pulled taut like a string of pearls. It still ached to this day, even months later. Actually, almost everything did. His poor nose had been shattered and healed twice over, his eye was glazed with a blur... thankfully something that could be fixed with contacts — even though Steve wailed like a baby when Scarlet had tried to help him with them — or the glasses stuffed in his pocket.

 Then, defeated, Steve nodded, "Fine, fine. Toss it, you bully."

 "Thank God." Scarlet had said it beneath her breath, but Steve had very obviously heard... for soon enough he send a crumpled ball of paper hurtling towards her face. It was merely tossed aside with a swipe of her hand as a wisp of red fluttered into the air, "And I'm the bully?"

 "Yep."

 Scarlet snorted, sealing the final box by her side. Each of them were crammed to the very brim, and they could only hope their dorm rooms would be big enough... anything extra would have to be stuffed into Scarlet's new room at the Byers. Scarlet had promised Joyce to come back each and every weekend.

 Joyce hadn't said anything... but it was clear that she was worried about them being alone after everything that had happened. So weekends would become Joyce's time to spread out a family dinner and have seven of them all under one roof. She couldn't wait.

 "Well, I think we're pretty much done," Steve said as he swiftly hopped to his feet, smoothed his hands over his jean-clad thighs and peered down at their hard work. Thirteen boxes. He had thirteen boxes all completely filled to the top. He trailed over, sliding away a box with his foot while heaving Scarlet to his feet, "Go team!"

 But where Scarlet would have slapped her hand against his own, determined to not leave him hanging... she stared down at the cherries printed on her socks, "It feels wrong."

 There had been a pit in her gut whenever she thought about leaving... which was odd considering it had taken all of her willpower to come back with Eleven. But while back then Hawkins had been nothing but a nightmare; now it was home. It was a town filled with completely bigoted idiots, but it was where she'd found her family, her friends... Steve. Now she was leaving it? She was leaving — she was leaving Hopper behind.

 "He'll be alone." it might have sounded stupid, to think that leaving behind an empty grave was what brought tears to her vision... but that was her father.

 A hand cupped her cheeks, familiar warmth alighting her skin. She'd never get tired of it.

 "You promised Max that we'd visit every few weeks. I promised Sinclair that I'd teach him all my tricks and get him to the top of his team... We'll see him." Steve smiled, it didn't quite reach his eyes, but the effort was there all the same, "We'll bring flowers —" He looked to the side, "Would he want flowers? Maybe we could leave a burger for him?"

 It was enough for Scarlet to laugh, to let her dimples reappear. The sight alone had Steve unable to keep from planting his lips on her forehead, then again on her awaiting lips. Strawberry chapstick always covered them, and Steve Harrington found that he quite liked it.

 "A burger and a beer?" Scarlet responded, hands locking themselves at the very base of Steve's neck. She could feel the little hairs there, fingers toying with them.

 "I think he'd like that."

 They stayed there for a moment, arms weaved together, chests beating steadily against one another... and then Scarlet started to laugh. Their sweet little embrace crumbled as Steve pulled back, eyes narrowed, "What?"

 "No, no, it's nothing."

 "Tell me."

 Scarlet ran her tongue over her teeth — she'd spied that God-awful shirt over Steve's shoulder. The mere thought of watching him pull it over his head had been enough to set her off. She pointed, and his gaze followed, "I thought about you wearing that."

 "Oh, please. I'd look great."

 Scarlet hummed, just a light buzz right on the tip of her tongue as she turned away, concealing the smile on her features. She tried to gather a box into her arms, only it tumbled free when Steve's hands found her stomach from behind. They tangled together and soon enough, Steve hoisted her into the air.

 "I saw that!"

 "It's a horrible shirt!"

 "You're telling me that if I wore it, you wouldn't be attracted to me?"

 There was a beat, and Steve took her silence as an admission. His fingers dug into her stomach and Scarlet almost burst as her cheeks grew dark.

 It had been a mistake to tell him that she was rather ticklish, but Scarlet was ever so stubborn, "I'd run for the hills, Stevie!"

 It was Steve's turn to be coy, a grin tugging his lips higher. "Now I know that's a lie, you can't get enough of me."

 Steve always tried to gain the upper hand in their silly little squabbles. Whenever his cheeks grew flustered and the tips of his ears grew hot, he'd try with all his might to turn the situation on its head. He never succeeded.

 Scarlet, now with toes planted firmly upon the ground, spun to face him. Like a switch had been flipped, she managed to change the mood entirely. Wide eyes laced with mirth narrowed and honey-flecked eyes grew ever darker. She peered at him through her lashed, fingers pinching his chin to bring his face closer... closer... and when His eyes fluttered shut, she hummed.

 "C'mon, Stevie," She cooed, "We both know you're the beggar."

 His face was as bright as a tomato, and soon enough his head slumped to her shoulder. Her light chimes of laughter drifted by his ears, sending shivers up his spine. He couldn't save himself, she was right. He was an utter fool.

 His speech was muffled by her pink shirt tucked beneath the dungarees she wore; Eleven wanted to match today, "You're a tease."

 "Mhm."

 "It's mean."

 "It's fun, now stop pouting."

 "I'm not pouting."

 She tugged him away, "I could feel you pouting." Her eyes drifted over his face, curling as his lips puckered further. Sometimes, even Scarlet Hopper couldn't quash her own whims. So, she pulled him close once again, and made sure that pout disappeared.

 There was a certain giddiness that followed with every chaste peck, a rush of unfathomable desire with every deepened kiss; they'd both been waiting so very long as their feelings grew and grew... now, they seemed to explode all the time.

 Steve ultimately grinned, hands resting upon her cheeks as he held her right where he wanted her, "Maybe I am — " he muttered before sealing their lips once again, "— a beggar —" another peck, "— But with good reason."

 He then groaned, head flying backwards as he stared at the ceiling. He knew Scarlet wore a smug grin at his confession. He knew she'd be staring at him with brows arisen to her hairline... but he truly did have a good reason. Steve Harrington felt the love he craved come from her, and he only ever wanted to return it completely.

 He stooped his gaze, chuckling at her swollen lips, "I get you on and off campus..." He blinked, "I'm never going to get anything done."

 "Are you complaining?"

 His face fell blank, an incredulous stare. He'd just admitted that he'd happily topple to his knees if she gave him the word, "Of course not."

 Scarlet had to turn away then, she had to busy her hands with the boxes strewn across the floor; they'd never get anything done otherwise. She tossed aside the clothes Steve had turned his nose up at and stacked the boxed they needed. It'd be a squeeze to stuff them into his car, but they'd somehow manage.

 Then, she rose her hand. A cute little watch was snug around her wrist; it was bright red and, with some time and care, little whisps of crimson had been dotted atop the silicone band with. a sharpie... Max had decorated it. She'd scoured her room and uncovered the item all with the intent to hand it off to her favourite person. A parting gift... though Max had worded such a statement differently.

 "You two better not be late from all that making-out." Apparently, the watch was merely to make sure they were in Hawkins right when they promised they'd be. Max had seen to it that Steve agreed.

 "You're tired of me already?" Steve murmured, slotting his head atop Scarlet's shoulder once more. His nose brushed against her cheek, and Steve couldn't smother the buzz in his gut when Scarlet topped her head against his own. Like muscle memory.

 Scarlet knew that she'd never grow tired of him. For three months the two of them had spent hardly any time apart. Max might have joined them, or Eleven, or there'd be times when Scarlet simply spectated as Steve and Lucas bounced an orange ball around a court... but they were always together. Nothing had changed in that aspect.

 "We're supposed to say goodbye to Robin in..." The watch hand ticked once, twice and then the minute hand fell to fifty-five, "Five minutes."

 "Shit!" Was all Steve could articulate as he wrangled on his shoes. He blazed around his bedroom, stacking boxes and having them into his arms... he promptly tripped over one as he barreled out of his room, "Shit!"

 Scarlet only laughed at his misfortune.

 The couple had just about managed to stuff and squeeze every box into Steve's car; they were bursting at the seams, and Scarlet had been certain that upon bumping over a pothole... something had toppled from one of them.

 With a small amount of speeding down old roads and racing past decaying trees, they'd at least managed to make it to Family Video just minutes later than planned. Family Video had been the very place Hopper would trail to every weekend, he'd scour the movies, trying his hardest to pick something his girls would enjoy... He never quite managed to pick something perfect, but the sisters would pretend to enjoy whatever he chose all the same.

 Robin Buckley had snagged herself a job. She'd potter behind the counter, judging the customers on the computer for their choices of film... she'd trail around the store with movies in hand, ready to steady and stack each shelf perfectly.

 Scarlet could recall a day when Keith had put a movie in the wrong place... Robin had almost thrown up at the sight alone.

 Steve was the first to hop out of the car, keys jingling between his fingers. As ever — even despite Scarlet reaching for the door handle — Steve was right there ready to pull it open.

 Scarlet shook her head; he always went above and beyond, even when he really didn't have to, "You know, I think I could have managed the door."

 Steve almost scowled as he reached for her fingers, securing them within his own, "You fight the monsters, I get the doors... I think that's a fair trade."

 "I —" Scarlet almost refused, but if this was the way to get Steve Harrington to stop throwing himself into the lion's den, only to return with a dozen bruises and cuts... she'd happily oblige, "You better stick to that deal."

 "I don't really wanna bust my other eye too."

 But the thing was... Steve wouldn't have changed what he'd done. He'd riled the guards up as best he could, just to draw their attention towards him. He'd do it again, a thousand times over if it meant keeping Robin safe. He almost hated to admit it, but Robin Buckley wasn't only Scarlet's best friend, she was his now too. The Three Musketeers.

 Scarlet paused in her steps, despite the flailing hands of Robin she could spy through the glass door. Looking at Steve would never give anything away, you couldn't tell he'd broken his nose twice, that he needed glasses — or contacts, though Steve thoroughly hated them — or that he'd gone three rounds with a bunch of burly Russians.

 Still, Scarlet almost felt herself pout. He looked rather dashing with his glasses on. So, she played her hand again, "I don't get it."

 Steve scurried as she blazed towards the door. He only just managed to beat her to the handle, "What?"

 Then she twisted her head, eyes peering over her shoulder while a wry little smile erupted. Her cheeks rose, dimples ploughing into them, "The glasses make you look hot."

 There was a hearty — and very displeased — groan from Robin that Steve very easily ignored. He blinked once, then twice... then once again. He still wasn't used to such brazen compliments being thrown about like confetti. He'd never had that before... it'd always been him dishing out the compliments.

 Actually... Steve had fallen rather self-conscious once his crown had toppled from his head... until Scarlet began smothering his stomach with hot kisses and had taken to whispering compliments every chance she'd gotten. He knew his cheeks were pink.

 "Can you guys not flirt? My breaks not for another thirty minutes and I don't think I can keep my puke down for that long." Robin's voice was a delight for them all... though even despite the words she spouted, Robin Buckley couldn't help but grin at the self-satisfied look plastered over Scarlet's face, and the furious fluster upon Steve's cheeks.

 She quite liked that some things were still the same, and really, she much preferred watching them flirt rather than dance around each other like absolute love-sick idiots.

 The best part was... that when she was with them, they did tone things down. Scarlet still relentlessly teased, and Robin only helped with all the joy in the world. They never left her out. She'd never had friends like them before.

 Scarlet somehow contained the desire to vault over the counter and crush Robin's bones in an all-consuming hug... instead, she brushed by the shelves, ignored the stack of movies that Robin had likely ordered from best to worst... and sailed behind the counter.

 Robin didn't need a prompt to open her arms.

 They swayed on the spot for a moment... they'd known for some time now that they'd be separated, that they'd only get to see one another twice a month. It was weird, after spending minutes, hours, days and weeks beside one another... hell, they'd almost died together. So to finally realised that there'd be no more shovelling ice cream into their mouths on a whim, no tossing M&M's at one another... no late-as-hell movie nights...

 It was all starting to finally kick in.

 Robin's rasp was a mere mumble as she kept her face bruised within the pink shirt over Scarlet's shoulder, "You finally finished packing little Stevie's hairspray then?"

 Scarlet snorted, eyes blinking blearily as she peered over Robin's shoulder. Just as she thought, Steve was already running his hands through his hair; Scarlet decided to hum, "All sixteen bottles."

 Scarlet pulled back; Robin looked happier now. The nightmares that Scarlet had every single night had snuck up on both Robin and Steve, tearing them from a fitful sleep. Steve still had them... every single night. He'd wake with a gasp after feeling eyes upon his body. He dreamt of being bound at the wrists, he dreamed of punches thrown at his face. It was so real. He'd awake only to find no blood, no cuts or bruises... yet somehow pain still alighted his skin.

 Scarlet had only ever been thankful for her own nightmares when Steve's started to grow. She knew how it felt to wake up in utter delirium. She'd soothe him, light fingers as soft as feathers gliding down his bare back while light words drifted past her lips. She'd distract him; be it by talking about the latest drama Max had somehow overheard. Or she'd lay him back down, her head atop his chest while he breathed.

 They did it for one another, for Scarlet's nightmares would never cease. She knew that much. Only now she had more fuel to be added to the already blistering fire.

 Jim Hopper.

 It had been awful of her, but Scarlet had found her way to Murray Bauman before he could scuttle away that night. She didn't dare ask Joyce, but Murray seemed capable of holding himself upright. Her face had been flat, the remnants of tears soaking her cheeks... then she asked how he died.

 Scarlet had to know. She had to know if he'd suffered.

 Murray had been hesitant, eyes scanning the crowd in the hopes somebody would save him... but eventually, when Scarlet let her eyes flood with crimson, Murray had buckled. He couldn't face her properly, instead watching as people milled about... he recalled what Joyce had said, the explanation she'd given.

 The machine had exploded, and Hopper disappeared within the blast.

 She dreamt of that. Her mind conjured false realities to taunt her dreams, and every night would end with either a flash of billowing electricity and her father's frightened face, or she'd feel a gun against her skull. She'd see Steve and Robin drenched in their own blood. She'd see Billy towering over Eleven. It was never-ending.

 Scarlet cleared her throat, fingers busying themselves with the pot of pens atop the counter — Robin had already made her mark with a fluffy emu pen that jiggled with every scrawled letter, "I finished packing last night... Jonathan had to help, but we got there. This one —" She wiggled a finger towards Steve... he grinned like an absolute idiot and Scarlet couldn't will her own lips to tumble back down, "Left it to the last minute. Still, all thirteen boxes managed to fit."

 Robin sighed almost wistfully as she took a few steps backwards, collapsing into her spinning chair, "Of to college... They grow up so fast."

 "Oh please," Scarlet brushed away, "You'll be there next year... But for now, you get to keep wearing that cute little band costume."

 "Don't. You. Dare." Robin narrowed her gaze, cerulean eyes constricting to slits. It wasn't a threat, but more of a plea. Every single year, Hawkins decided to torture its students further... Robin had found bile rising in her throat at her new costume, all the while Scarlet and Steve had giggled like children.

 "What? I said it's cute."

 "You're a liar."

 A beat passed. Scarlet sniffed and brought her thumb and pointer together, "Maybe a little."

 Steve trailed over, sauntering to Scarlet's side. Like clockwork, his arm encircled her waist and she leaned against him. Steve found himself glazing down, hoping to catch a glimmer in her eyes... he always spied it now, how he'd missed it before was beyond him. She looked at him... like... like he looked at her.

 "You better not forget about us," Steve said, managing to pry his gaze away from the girl tucked into his side. Scarlet's hand clutched at the one on her waist, her digits mindlessly tapping away a silly little tune.

 Robin almost scoffed, how could she ever forget them? She might have always plastered a facade over her features and feelings, never letting anyone truly know just how much she cared about the two people standing right in front of her... but she'd never forget them. Even if they moved away for good and never returned. Scarlet's face was in too many polaroid pictures taped to her wall. Steve had left behind too many cassettes and sweaters that he no longer wanted.

 They'd made their mark.

 "How could I?" She shrugged, a sly glint within her eyes, "We took down Russians together."

 What Robin wasn't fully aware of... was the fact that she too had made her own mark. Robin was somebody who just... picked things up. Literally. She liked little trinkets, but more than that, she liked giving them away. Scarlet couldn't even count just how many rocks Robin had tossed her way so that she could paint some cute little picture upon the surface.

 As for Steve, he had a box stuffed with his sweatpants... but at the very bottom was a cluster of stamps... it was an odd thing to keep, yet every time Robin plucked a sticker up and laughed at the old man with wrinkles or silly hair, she'd point at him and say; 'Hey look, it's you.'. 

 The stamps somehow found themselves left atop the dashboard of his car. Steve kept them all. He'd find some when they were away, some depicting odd women with crooked smiles and witchy hands... he'd toss them at her and say 'Hey look, it's you.'

 Scarlet couldn't help it, she dove forth once again and curled her arms around her friend. She smelt like raspberries, probably from the bag of sweets stashed beneath the counter, "We're coming back for Thanksgiving"

 "You could always..." Robin paused, but the nod Steve offered was enough to know her invitation would be taken with ease. As if the couple would ever want to spend Thanks Giving with Steve's parents. "My mom always makes too much... and she kinda loves you both?"

 "We'll be there."

 Robin smiled, "Dingus?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Don't let her cook anything."

 Steve tossed his head back as laughter spilt from his lips. While he was capable of tossing together anything and everything and make a meal that tasted good enough to be served in a restaurant — courtesy of his delightful absent parents, of course — Scarlet wasn't capable of anything more than cracking an egg and frying some bacon.

 She'd made a miserable state of a bowl of spaghetti.

 Scarlet flicked Robin's shoulder, "Hey, it's supposed to be us against him."

 "I could make fun of his face?"

 "Perfect."

 It had been tough for both of them to leave Robin behind, to roll out of the parking lot as she scurried to the door, her freckled fingers waving through the air as she bellowed her goodbyes. They were all quite dramatic, really... for Scarlet and Steve had vowed to return with every passing fortnight.

 Still, saying goodbye to somebody you'd spend every day with was tough... knowing that, for the most part, Robin would be left to suffer through the trauma that came with the Battle of Starcourt alone was... well, neither Scarlet nor Steve could think about it for very long without wanting to scream into a pillow.

 The ride to the Byers ​​— and Hopper — residence was almost silent. There were no words to be passed between the flourishing couple as Steve trailed them through bleak roads lined with bustling thrush. His hand was on her knee, scarred fingers tapping along to the song flitting through the car.

 He always put it on. The same song every damned time.

 I think were alone now.

 There doesn't seem to be anyone around

 I think we're alone now

 The beating of our hearts is the only sound

 Steve knew it was her favourite, and so it flooded their ears every single day. He could recall watching as Scarlet did her best to raise Eleven's mood. She'd grabbed her sister's hands and spun her to the music until Eleven simply couldn't fight the laughter any longer. He'd watched silently... until Scarlet and Eleven turned in sync, facing him as the lyrics were bellowed from their mouths.

 It had been the first time he'd truly seen them smile since Hopper had passed.

 "You think when we come back... Robin will have a whole like... a whole colony of rocks for me?" It was a strange sentence to be sure, but Scarlet wanted to hear his voice, she wanted to talk about Robin without wanting to pry her tear ducts from her face.

 "Knowing Rob? Yeah, absolutely." Steve chuckled. Robin was insistent and now her mother had to deal with painted rocks suddenly appearing around the house, in her tomato plant... Robin had even placed one where the soap should have been, "She likes weird things."

 "She picked up an old button once, she still has it."

 "She picked up a dead bug, Scar. A button is nothing."

 To be fair to Robin, she hadn't known it was a dead bug... but when she did know, she hadn't dropped the thing. Actually, she peered closer. She was certainly a strange one, but that only made Scarlet adore her more.

 They continued that way, chattering about the odd little habits of their best friend until the newly revamped Byers home came into view. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels of Steve's car, and the moment Joyce Byers had picked her head up from her place on the porch, she waved.

 Joyce's warm smile could never fail to alight a certain presence of comfort; both Scarlet and Steve could feel it as they opened their doors and slammed them shut. Hand in hand, they made their way closer, watching as Lucas breezed passed to stuff another box into the moving van.

 "We're almost set," Joyce announced and though there was a smile on her features and a certain light in her eyes... that undertone of sadness was still there. Each of them felt it whenever they thought about leaving. It was a good thing, but it was a hard thing, "Did you manage to pack everything?

 Steve scratched the back of his neck, eyes swiftly glancing to the stacked boxes within his car, "Yeah, probably shouldn't have left it until this morning though... This one," His hip bumped Scarlets, "Spent the morning insulting my fashion sense."

 "Fashion sense?" Scarlet's voice had an edge of utter disgust. How on earth could he ever call that monstrosity of a shirt fashion? It was ugly. Plain and simple. It hadn't been a cute brown, no it was murky with some odd yellow undertone. The green wasn't a delightful sage or the colour of spring leaves... it looked like murky, algae-infested water, "Don't listen to him, Joyce. He wouldn't know fashion if it slapped him right around these pink little cheeks."

 Steve swatted away the fingers that pinched his cheeks, growing rather embarrassed as he watched Joyce turn away for a short moment to smother her laughter. The older woman had grown used to hearing the two of them bicker — or, rather, hearing Scarlet tease and Steve whine like a little kid who couldn't defend himself.

 Joyce watched them continue; Scarlet only darted beneath Steve's grabbing hands, her pointer jabbing at his face, his chest... anywhere she could reach. She was as nimble as a cat, and while Steve might have been a king on the basketball court, he hadn't been chasing his elusive superhero.

 Then, against all odds, Steve managed to get her. Scarlet's face had never faltered faster, and Steve Harrington looked as though he was on top of the world. In a single and swift movement, Scarlet suddenly found herself tossed over Steve's as though she was nothing more than a sorry sack of potatoes.

 "Steven Richard Harrington, if you don't put me down —" Scarlet hissed through gritted teeth. She couldn't see Joyce, but she could certainly hear her muffled laughter, "Uh! Joyce? You're supposed to be on my side. What is with everyone turning on me today?"

 "You're really using my full government name?" Steve blinked, hoisting her higher. He quite liked this; he'd never been able to silence her before his cheeks could grow cherry-red, and now she was entirely at his mercy, arms swinging by his legs like limp little twigs.

 Scarlet batted her arms. She wacked his leg, pinched his thigh and then, when he only laughed... she smacked his ass. Her hands didn't cease even as Steve jostled her, telling her to quit it.

 Joyce remained silent, lips curled inwards in absolute amusement. She watched them trailed towards the house... well, she watched Steve trail towards the house, Scarlet really had no choice in the matter.

 As ever, even despite watching the two laugh until their faces were flushed, Joyce was still a mother, "Be careful!"

 "I promise not to drop her!" Was Steve's call in return. He then paused, feet only just stepping over the threshold of the home, "Now, tell me you liked the shirt."

 "Put me down."

 "Say it."

 "Steve, you aren't nearly as intimidating as you're trying to be."

 "You're the one who's trapped."

 Scarlet slumped, her chin resting against Steve's back, "I could use my powers."

 "You wouldn't —"

 She did. 

 Scarlet had waved her fingers ever so slightly, watching them wiggle in the air. A smattering of crimson wisps were brought to life, twisting around her skin... then, with a flick, the shuddering burst of energy trailed towards Steve's neck. It danced over his skin, and all hairs stood on end.

 It wasn't just Scarlet that was ticklish.

 When his hold loosened, Scarlet seized her chance and squirmed free. Her toes lugged her through the home as she deftly hopped over boxes and avoided the multitude of children that would breeze into her path. A final sentence was uttered at the very tip of her voice, "The shirt was ugly, Stevie!"

 Scarlet had originally planned to seek out her dear little sister. She knew the move was hard on her too; Eleven, like Scarlet, had never quite had a place to call home, and while Hawkins brought nightmares to life right before their eyes... it had also led them to the people they loved most.

 However, a delightful sound reached her ears first, coming from within Will's old bedroom. It was easy to piece together exactly what was happening; Max and Lucas were belting at the very top of their lungs all the while Dustin Henderson groaned and complained. The couple were teasing him, singing a lovely rendition of A Never-Ending Story.

 As Scarlet rounded the corner, hip lounging against the doorway, Dustin looked about ready to scout out a Demogorgon and give himself up as a sacrifice.

 "Wait —" Max halted, eyes narrowed upon Dustin. Her smile mimicked a Cheshire cat, all wide with glinting teeth. She looked at Dustin, cocking her head and a braid slipped from her shoulder, "Did we get that right? It's 'unfold behind the clouds'?"

 Dustin's smile was nothing but a sarcastic line smeared over his face. His tone lacked any and all of his usual enthusiasm and his following words were about as personified as a rock at the bottom of a murky lake, "Yeah, but you're butchering it, so could you please stop?"

 Now Scarlet knew asking Maxine Mayfield to stop doing anything was a surefire way to keep her going. She liked to advert expectations... she liked being petty, which is exactly why Scarlet cherished her so very much.

 Lucas, however, had clearly picked up on his girlfriend's personality — though they'd all noticed it for months now. Lucas leaned forwards, palms planted on his crossed legs as he batted his eyes and rose his voice as high as he could, "So then join in... Dusty-Bun."

 Steve had picked the most opportune time to slink beside Scarlet, happily grinning as she teetered from leaning against the door, to leaning against him. Dustin had always followed in Scarlet and Robin's footsteps in teasing Steve as much as he possibly could.

 Now Steve had his chance to tease him right back. His baritone voice mimicked Lucas', "Yeah, why not, Dusty-Bun?" His voice returned to the usual lazy tone he spouted, "Sing with them, Henderson."

 "Steve?" Dustin asked, "Fuck off."

 "Oh, you wait until I tell Suzie!"

 There was a very resounding symphony of snorts. Max had bellowed, Lucas pointed and laughed and Scarlet really couldn't help but grin into Steve's shirt as she watched poor little Dusty-Bun go pink in the face.

 Dustin huffed, and swiftly busied himself with one of the boxes sprawled ut around him, "You guys are so funny, you should be on Carson."

 Scarlet picked up her head, a hand darting to smooth down her pin-stright hair. It'd grown even longer in the past few months, and she'd easily shed the curls that bounced on her shoulders... now Eleven and Max liked to braid it and clip little butterflies to the plaits.

 She pouted, "Come on Dustin, just one verse?"

 "No. No way. It's for Suzie's ears and Suzie's ears alone."

 That was one of the biggest lies any of them had heard. Scarlet could definitely remember being stuffed in a car, being chased by a monster... only to then be punished further with Dustin and his girlfriend singing through the walkies. There was no way she had imagined it... for everyone else had suffered through the very same trauma. Robin had suggested starting a group to help them all recover.

 Dustin had tossed a piece of paper at her face.

 Steve rolled his eyes skywards, "Yeah? Why'd we have to hear it, then?" 

 He soon moved forth, leaving Scarlet to watch as he slumped to the ground beside Max and Lucas, fingers reaching for a shirt that Lucas had absolutely butchered whilst trying to fold it.

 Scarlet narrowed her eyes at the following silence... and then spied the look that transpired between Max and Lucas. In astounding synchronisation, the pair of them parted their lips and continued to bellow. Only, this time, with a swift punch to the shoulder from Max, Steve joined them.

 Three voices intertwined and rang out like irritating television static. Though admittedly, Steve Harrington certainly had a charm to his voice. With late-night drives around a twilight-blanketed Hawkins came the small sound of Scarlet and Steve humming and singing away to the radio... Scarlet could remember how flustered Steve had gotten when she'd complimented his voice.

 Scarlet left them to it, turning on her heel with the intent to search for her sister, but she couldn't leave without the final word, could she?

 "Good luck, Dustin!"

 He scowled, "Please take your idiot boyfriend with you!"

 "You can keep him!"

 It was strange to see the Byers home looking so very empty. All pictures of Will and Jonathan throughout the years had been pried from the walls. Will's drawings had been plucked from his bedroom and stuffed away while Jonathan's impressive collection of music had been tossed inside the moving truck.

 Scarlet had gotten used to the warmth, the clutter that made the house feel so alive and welcoming.

 But a new start was exactly what they all needed; Scarlet and Eleven had been through so much, and then to lose their father, the one person who had vowed to keep everybody safe... It was plain to see how much Joyce had cared for him too.

 Even through the heartbreak of losing Bob Newby, Joyce had found herself laughing at Hopper's antics, smiling whenever he practically gushed about his girls...

 They had to leave. Hawkins left too bitter of a taste in their mouths to stay any longer, and with Scarlet and Steve going to college, it was the perfect chance.

 Scarlet peeked around a corner, eyes peering into the bedroom she'd been sharing with Eleven. Nothing was left behind. The drawers that had been stacked with glittery nail varnish and stickers galore were tucked away in the truck. Every drawing Scarlet had put time into was resting atop the passenger seat of her own car — she'd managed to find her spare keys even amidst the clutter of the decrepit cabin.

 But there was Eleven, right in the centre of the room. She made it just as inviting as any of those old trinkets ever did.

 There were tears rolling down her flushed cheeks and her knuckles had grown white from clutching at the teddy bear within her hold. There was a piece of paper pinched between her fingers, and the longer Eleven stared, the more her tears began to flow.

 "Ellie?" Scarlet cooed. The sound was as sweet as a dollop of honey, and Eleven instantly brightened. Her dull eyes widened and renewed once again as Scarlet made her way closer, "What's wrong?"

 Eleven said nothing, her gaze stooping back to the paper crumpling beneath her fingertips. She dropped the fluffy bear in her grasp and padded the wooden floor beside her. Scarlet padded over and took a seat.

 "Hop —" Eleven cleared her throat, hoping to banish the thickness that swallowed her voice. She held the paper out, "Hop wrote something for me and Mike. A... A heart to heart."

 Scarlet's browser curled, she wouldn't dare pluck the paper from her sister's hands. She didn't truly know if she'd ever be able to stomach a single word from her father. If he wasn't there to say them... Then what was the point?

 But Eleven tucked a hand into her breast pocket... she was wearing one of Hopper's old flannel shirts. The buttons were undone, allowing the shirt to flow freely, it almost swallowed Eleven whole.

 She fished out a second piece of paper, one that was folded, and held it out. It took a moment for Scarlet to swallow the lump in her throat... it took her a beat to gather the courage to even cradle it within her palm. Eleven nodded to it, "He wrote something for you. I didn't read it."

 Scarlet couldn't even feel the shaking of her fingers as she held the note before her, to be truthful, she almost wanted to throw it away and pretend it didn't exist. The wound of losing him was still as raw as it had been the day he died... to pry it open even further... could she handle that?

 To ignore it and toss it far away would have been a mistake. Scarlet knew she'd lay awake for weeks just wondering what Hopper had taken the time to sit down and scrawl out for her. She glanced down, catching the last few words written upon the note in Eleven's hand...

 For the sake of your poor old dad...

 Scarlet blinked, finding a haze already settling upon her sight. The familiar sting of tears wasn't welcomed, not even in the slightest, nor was the ringing in her ears. She unfurled the paper, and sure enough, there was Hopper's messy scrawl smeared over the page.

 "Hey, Kid,

 I know that right now you're probably staring down wondering why the hell I've handed you some crumpled bit of paper. Actually, you probably think I've got some kind of disease to feel the need to write to you, but I couldn't leave my girl out, could I?"

 Scarlet could already feel her pulsing heart threatening to tear through her chest and thump along the floor. Had she been handed the note in any other circumstance, Hopper would have been right. She would have thought he was sick or completely out of his mind. He didn't do feelings.

 She trailed already watering eyes along the next sentence,

 "I wrote something for El, to make sure she understood why I've been so... so angry lately. Why I've been reluctant to let her spend time with Mike, and I knew I had to do something for you, too. After all, you've kept our family together, even when it wasn't your responsibility. Even when I couldn't.

 I'm not sure what to say; you came into my life already doing a better job than me. You've cared for your sister in a way I know I'll never compete with, but I'm okay with that. Just as long as I can repay the favour to you.

 I knew from the moment you'd scowled at me for raising my voice that you and El would be inseparable. I was right, what I didn't know all that time ago, was that we'd be inseparable too.

 I know I can be hard to be around, I'm grumpy and moody — as you so often remind me — but I care about you both. When I'm at work, all I look forward to is coming home to my girls, even if you live to drive me up the damn wall... I look forward to seeing what books El's managed to get through, or the paintings and drawings you'd make.

 You get paint all over the damn cabin, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

 I know you've been keeping your college admission letter from me, I know you've been stashing away the pieces of artwork you plan to send away... I know about all of it. I only guess you weren't ready to tell me, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

 Scarlet cleared her throat in the hopes of banishing the lump that had gathered, but it only spurred forth her tears. They came rushing down her cheeks and she scurried to banish them away in the hopes of keeping the paper dry.

 "I don't know anything about what happened to you after you escaped that lab, all I know is that the nightmares and panic attacks you have can only mean things hadn't gotten much better. But you let us in. You let me and Eleven in. That makes me..."

 There was a cluster of scribbles — Hopper had clearly pondered his words for too long, wondering if he should carve them into the paper or start over from the beginning again.

 "... Happy. I was in a dark place before the two of you walked into my life, and now... I get to have the life that I'd always wanted. I'd always wanted to be a dad, you know?

 I think you'd have liked Sara. You'd have looked after her, I know you would have. She would have loved you.

 I think it's about time I wrap things up, no doubt you're sobbing like a little kid. I'm sure I'll enjoy it when you yell at me for making you cry... and then you'll only cry again.

 I just want you to know that —"

 There was a smudge on the page where an eraser had been brought down... it had almost torn through. But Hopper soon pencilled over it,

 "— That I love you.

 I'll always be here. When you leave for college, when you come home, when you abandon us all to live in that damned Ice Cream parlour. I know you worry that people will leave you, but I promise, kid... I'm here. Always.

 I just want you to do something for me.

 Don't back out of college. Go and live a normal life and take Harrington with you. You've gotta know by now how much the kid loves you. He makes you happy, and you need to free yourself from this town, even if it's just for a couple of years.

 Eleven will be here. Those brats you're so fond of will be here. I'll be here. We'll all be waiting for you to come home.

 Alright, that's enough for one day. Just start living for yourself, okay? Not for El and me. Not for the kids or Harrington. Just for you.

 But please, for the tenth damned time, stop spilling paint in the kitchen!

 — Dad."

 The waterworks had sprouted like a fountain. Scarlet had read the letter aloud, listening to every sob from El, every little chime of laughter that came with Hopper's attempts at making his words humorous amidst his heart-to-heart.

 There was nothing in the world that Scarlet wanted more than for Hopper to be with her, today especially. To know that she was finally taking a real step into a normal life for herself. She was going to college... and he wasn't there to wave her off.

 She knew he'd have made a fuss. He would have lowered his crackling voice and made her promise to be safe, to make sure that Steve never stepped out of line — though they both knew Steve wasn't capable of doing so.

 She felt... somewhat empty. The elation of life beginning had worn away. The fear of doing something new had been buried. The hollowness set in once again.

 Tears had torn through her light-wash dungarees. Splotches of water had made patches darker, even her yellow converse hadn't escaped unscathed. She couldn't do it.

 How could she do this without him?

 Eleven tumbled into her side and the sisters remained in complicit silence. Neither wanted to speak... neither of them could speak without a sob tearing free. They were left to mourn once again; the funeral hadn't been enough. Three months hadn't been enough. The letters weren't enough.

 The pain was as fresh as it had been when Starcourt was set ablaze.

 "There's my girls."

 Steve's voice tore through the blanket of utter despair swallowing the room whole. He's perched against the doorway, stray stands of brunette slipping over his forehead and close to his eyes; eyes that widened upon the sight of tears.

 His brows curled together, lines appearing just above. He'd seen those looks more times than he wished to admit. For three long months, all Steve had seen was pure sorrow buried within their eyes.

 Sure, there might have been bouts of light that shone through like a sunbeam to glass, but it never lasted long enough.

 He dropped before them, "What's wrong?"

 It was easier to show him than to speak through the thickness of her throat. Scarlet held the note out to him... nobody else would read it. It was hers. Hers and Eleven's... but they both trusted Steve enough to hold the note close to his heart. They knew he'd appreciate the words just as much as they did.

 Steve made no complaints as he slipped his glasses on, pushing them up his nose. He would almost moan and whine that he looked stupid, but this time there wasn't a peep as he took the note, eyes drifting over the smudged and smeared letters.

 Once he'd reached the very end, folded the heartfelt note back into a sliver... he finally realised that his own face was damp. His glasses had fogged and everything was fuzzy. Steve couldn't, and wouldn't, ever be able to hide the fact that he missed their father too. The man who'd treid so hard to look after him when his own dad couldn't.

 "C'mere." He muttered, pulling the sisters into his embrace. Their sobs made him shiver, knowing there wasn't anything he could ever do to make the pain go away... all he could do was exactly what Scarlet had done for him. He could just be there, ready to listen if she ever wanted to talk about him, or ready to distract her when it all became a little too much to handle.

 He pressed a kiss into Eleven's hair, then did the very same to Scarlet, "He's still proud of you. Both of you. I know it."

 Scarlet wanted to shrivel into a little pathetic ball. It was miserable to constantly feel that choked-up sensation. To always feel the twisting of your stomach, bile rising at the mere thought of a single person.

 Steve made it easier. He really did. Scarlet knew she'd never quite be the same; after everything that had happened and her switch had flipped... only to then have her father's death piled atop her weighted shoulders — nothing would be the same. But Steve was there. That was something familiar, something welcoming. She'd never let him go, she couldn't.

 The floorboards creaked, and for a moment Scarlet thought the bundle of limbs she, Eleven and Steve had become would fall through the floor. Instead, a light knock drew them apart.

 All eyes were bleary as they looked towards the sound.

 Joyce was stood there, warm eyes cast upon them. She had been the one to hand off the letters to Eleven, and yet the woman hadn't even taken a glance at them. She could see as plain as day that whatever Hopper had taken the initiative to write had truly come from him.

 They'd been his words, rather than the ones she'd given him.

 Joyce was careful to stay quiet so as to not shatter the solace, her voice was a little above a whisper, "Everything okay?

 Scarlet only briefly brought her head away from being tucked into Steve's neck, her breath still fanned his skin and tears nonetheless burrowed through his clothes... but she managed to nod despite wanting to voice the very opposite.

 Nothing was okay, was it? Hopper was gone. A piece of herself had been tainted. She didn't know what would happen now.

 "Alright..." Joyce murmured, smoothing out her flowing flannel, if Scarlet was right and she was certain that she was... it was another of Hoppers. They all seemed to drape themselves within his salvaged clothes just for a spark of comfort.

 Joyce didn't believe the nod of affirmation at all. She'd been there every single day since Hopper had left them, and she'd seen Scarlet slowly descending lower and lower. Stoicism was far more common, blank stares and thinned lips would grace them all.

 Of course, she still perked up and her voice was as sweet as sugar when reality left her alone for a few short moments... But Joyce was frightened. She'd promised to do her best to look after Hopper's children, but there was nothing she could do.

 Joyce settled for leaving her be, for the time being, "We're all ready to go," She came closer, a hand cupping Eleven cheek for a short moment, and then she tucked away a stray strand of Scarlet's hair. Finally, her fingers squeezed Steve's shoulder, "We'll be outside."

 Scarlet hadn't been able to seal away her sobs when Maxine Mayfield had latched her arms around her. The redhead had squeezed so very tight while her body shook from the cries echoing from her lips.

 It wasn't a secret that Max had come to view Scarlet as the older sibling that she'd always craved; someone who looked out for her, somebody who was willing to give up time to spend it with her... somebody who listened. To watch her go... Max didn't know what she'd do without her.

 "Hey," Scarlet breathed, doing her utmost to untangle Max's arms, "I have something for you —" There were rocking back and forth together, holding so very tight. They'd even bumped into Scarlet's car once or twice, uncaring if they toppled over.

 Scarlet weaselled a hand through her open car window, standing on the every tips of her toes as she grabbed a very vibrant jacket from the front seat. It was a bright blue with little yellow lines right in the crook of the elbows. Max had picked it out on their shopping trip all those months ago... she'd wanted it for herself.

 So now, Scarlet knew it would be in very grateful hands. She held it out, watching as Maxine blinked through her tears. Max's fingers rattled as they inched out, making their way through the air at a snail's pace.

 "Are you sure?" She asked, eyes as wide as saucers.

 Really, even though Scarlet knew Max had wanted the jacket so very badly... Scarlet just wanted to make sure she wasn't forgotten. The kids treated her as their own superhero, and they put her on a pedestal... but children quickly grew into adults who would soon forget about the heroes and villains of their childhoods.

 But it wasn't just that — Max had changed too. After watching Billy die right before her very eyes, Max had become a little more distant. She already spent less time with Lucas, and more time holed up within her bedroom.

 So while the Jacket was for Max to keep Scarlet in mind, it was also to remind her that no matter how far away she was... Scarlet loved her.

 "Of course I'm sure," Then, unable to help herself, she dragged Max right back to her, "You know I'm always a call away, don't you? Send me a letter, hell, you could send a pigeon Max, I'll always be waiting for you."

 Max couldn't breathe.

 "I know." She said, her fingers clawing at her own hand, "I'm gonna miss you."

 "I'm going to miss you. I know I have Ellie, but you —" Scarlet stepped back and wiped away Max's tears. The girl's eyes were red, almost matching her hair, "You're my sister too, you know that, don't you?"

 "Yeah," Max's voice was almost swallowed by a hiccup. She was almost entirely muffled as she buried her head upon Scarlet's chest, "And you're mine."

 "My little shit?"

 "Your little shit."

 It hurt to hear Max's voice crack mid-way through her watered-down laughter. But they had to go. Scarlet might not have been able to stomach the thought of leaving behind Hopper's empty grave, or leave behind the children that had given her a new lease at life... but staying was hurting more than it should have.

 With every police car that hurtled down empty lanes, with every passing glance at the burger place Hopper frequented came a familiar sense of utter emptiness. So they had to go, there were too many reminders surrounding them.

 The other kids had soon billowed towards Scarlet like a bull to a red flag; Lucas had managed to hoist her into the air amidst his hug, delight in the small laugh Scarlet had mustered. Dustin soon pushed him aside, and Scalet gripped him just as tightly as Steve had done just moments earlier. Then there was Mike settled towards the back of the group. His face was slack; he didn't want Eleven to leave, none of them did... So he did what he always did, he tried to pretend as if he didn't care.

 He soon fell into Scarlet's awaiting arms. His shoulders shook, and none of them said a single word about it.

 Nancy had been an utter flood of tears when Jonathan had let go of her hand, a lingering touch remaining as he pulled away. When he'd gotten into his run-down car with Will in his passenger still in a puddle of tears, Nancy had tightened her jaw, blown out a breath, and tried to remain as composed as she could.

 While the two hadn't been close, they had still been friends... and Scarlet rather regretted that she hadn't spent more time getting to know her. The two of them shared a short hug, and Nancy had parted ways with just a few whispered words, "Look after them... and yourself."

 When the circus around Scarlet had faded away and she was left alone to watch the others wave and holler, Steve was right there. His own face was still tacked with tears; neither of the two would dare speak of it... but both Steve and Dustin had sobbed like little babies when their own goodbyes were shared.

 "How're you holding up?" Steve's voice was small, almost swallowed by the farewells being yelled in the background. He pecked her cheek, and Scarlet almost thanked him for the little buzz of joy that fizzled out over her skin.

 She stared up at him, eyes narrowed as her hair blew around her; it was a tough question to answer. None of them were doing well, even if the decision to move away and start anew was a good thing.

 "I'm okay." She almost squeaked, "How was Dustin?"

 "Uh," Steve's fingers found the base of his neck, short nails scratching at the little hairs residing there.

 He didn't really want to announce that he'd suddenly lost fifty percent of the water in his body, or the fact that saying goodbye to a kid he'd probably see in a few weeks hurt more than when his parents would leave for months on end.

 But Scarlet could tell. His eyes were red, cheeks matching perfectly.

 Then Steve swallowed, eyes darting in the direction of the kids, "Max?"

 "I —" Scarlet faltered, tears replenishing once again, "— She's not great. With her mom and stepdad fighting... and the divorce pending..."

 Just another man leaving Maxine Mayfield behind. Scarlet almost wanted to empty one of Steve's packed boxes and stuff her inside. She was sure Joyce would be glad to have her.

 "We'll be back." He said, eyes never leaving Max. She was back with the others all crowding around Eleven who had finally started to turn on her heels. But while Mike waved and put on his best facade of a smile, and while Dustin called out his goodbyes, his voice soon multiplied by Lucas'... Max stood silently with a tear dribbling down her cheek. Her fingers almost tore through the Jacket Scarlet had gifted her, "We'll make sure she's alright."

 It was soothing to hear that. To know that Steve was more than happy to spend their time back in Hawkins doting on the children they'd both come to care for so very much. From checking in on Max, helping Dustin with his projects and teaching Lucas everything Steve knew about basketball... they'd soon forget they'd ever spent time apart.

 "Well," Scarlet breathed, watching as Eleven slammed the truck door shut, as the kids began to heave their bikes from the ground, "We better get moving."

 "Mhm," He hummed, leaning down for a kiss that Scarlet hadn't the heart to ever dismiss, "See you at the rest stop? I'll get us some lunch?"

 The drive would take an age, and both Steve and Scarlet had to part ways just so that they could each take their own cars with them... Scarlet would never be able to leave behind her baby; not when it was the first birthday gift she'd ever received... a gift from Hopper, no less.

 "Can't wait."

 Scarlet was the last of them to leave. Eleven had gone with Joyce, Will with Jonathan, and Steve had followed shortly behind with his boxes rattling all around him. Watching the sunlight bounce from Steve's car was all she could focus on.

 She was leaving once again, and this time... new nightmares were going to follow her.

 Trees brushed by, leaves slowly beginning to turn yellow and brown beneath the autumnal sun. Any and all pretty little flowers that blossomed through summer had hidden beneath the earth and the air had a small chill running through it.

 The window was open, air whipping Scarlet's hair too and fro...

 Then the sign she'd been dreading appeared...

 NOW LEAVING HAWKINS.

 It still didn't feel right to leave Hopper behind or to know that Max was suffering... But what more could Scarlet do than say goodbye?

 With a heavy heart, her car fled past the sign.

 There were no chimes of a clock. No shivers tracing her spine... There was something about leaving that managed to make her taut muscles relax just a smidgen. It was enough to keep driving rather than pull over and sob until her throat was raw.

 Her fingers twisted a dial, and soon enough, familiar lyrics flooded her quiet little car.

 Running just as fast as we can

 Holding on to one another's hand

 Trying to get away into the night

 And then you put your arms around me

 And we tumble to the ground and then you say

 I think we're alone now...

 The sound was enough to tug her lips higher, a short smile that she'd keep all to herself. There was just one final goodbye to make. Max had been hugged enough for a century, Dustin had been squeezed until he'd almost popped, and Lucas and Mike would surely have bruises from their own solemn farewells.

 There was just one person left.

 Scarlet slumped against her seat, fingers tight around her wheel as the words slithered from her strawberry-scented lips. She'd miss him no matter how far she went, and no matter how old she grew,

"Goodbye, dad."

━━━━━━━

04-07-2020

edited version: 06/12/2022

:･ﾟ★ I'm in physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual payne. 

I really hope you all enjoy this conclusion to act two, season three of stranger things; i will be writing season four at some point... but after rewriting this entire story in just a few months, i wanna take a break and focus on some other things as well as actually... you know... plan the next part properly.

but you will see some more one-shots pop up that'll be taking place during the three-month time skip between the battle of Starcourt and the Byers moving, as well as moments that proceed the move, (four during the timeskip, and two post moving to Cali) so be sure to check those out (I'll post the first either tomo or the next day) n e way, love u lots,

OH and pls just ignore the fact that I Think Were Alone Now came out in 1987; it's so Scarlet and Steve coded I couldn't not use it. It's only early by a year or two, let me live, mwah<3

clo <3

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part. do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3