Peanut Butter Without the Crust -

Ch.1 No Place to Belong

No one knew why Steve Harrington stopped showing up to school after Christmas break. Most assumed he'd went with his parents on their wild vacations, never questioning the Harrington maid that was so skittish in public when picking up supplies for the house. No one knew what happened to King Steve but he held the title even though he was no longer in school to be popular. 

No one had seen the Harrington folks in months, no one had seen the Harrington maid in almost two weeks, no one was expecting the call to the police station. 

The night Hopper got the call he at first believed it was a prank, some kids messing around because the phone operator said it was a call from the Harrington house. He was prepared for anything on the phone but what he heard, there on the other end of the call was a voice as weak as can be speaking only his name and his social security number. Answering like a prisoner of war. 

With no hesitation in his step he handed the phone off to one of his deputies to keep the boy speaking, even if all he said was his name and social. The old Alpha left the police station with no answer to the questions being fired at him, no back up, no expectations for what he was walking into except that the boy on the phone was claiming to be Steve Harrington. 

Arriving was the easy part, pulling into the empty driveway. Overgrowth showing truly no one had been here in weeks. Weeds crunched under his booted feet as Hop made his way to the front door, banging as loud as he could and identifying himself as police. When no answer came but the static of his radio, his deputy informing him that he could hear his knocking through the phone, that's when the police chief started to put his weight against the door. Calling out for anyone inside to back away so they wouldn't be hurt when he broke open the door. Raising his gun and shooting at the seam of the door near the handle when his weight alone wasn't enough. 

When the door busted open and he could step inside the first thing that hit him was the stench of rotting food but not a single trace of actual life. Hand on the door as he pushed it slightly closed to keep the winter air out is when he found the eighteen locks on it. Most of them being deadbolts that needed a key for both sides. 

Covering his mouth and nose with his hand to hold back the acidic rotting scent, Hopper called out again listening to find if he could hear the soft voice. Surveying the area, searching room after empty room. The hall closet by the stairs was left a jar and open to a sickening sight, full of cycle suppressants, scent blockers and hormones suppressors. Someone was hurting an Omega here. Finding no response in the lower floor the police chief made his way up the staircase, the treads creaking under his heavy boots. Only hearing the faint call of a name and social as he made his way down the hall, pushing open the door to what appeared to be a home office in need of dusting, he found the boy. 

He looked small for his age, if he truly was the Harington boy he claimed to be, his hair was shaggy like it hadn't been cut in awhile. His frame was small, not quite malnourished but edging it dangerously. He stood leaning against the desk crying into the phone repeating nothing but his name and social over and over again as if it was a prayered mantra. 

Taking a step closer Hopper put his hand out like he was approaching a scared animal, something the boy in front of him looked like in this moment "Son? My name's Jim Hopper, I'm the Police Chief of Hawkins" 

"Steve Harrington, *** ** ****" His voice sounded even worse in person, the teen dropping the phone as he crumbled to his knees in relieve. Tears rolling down his cheeks like small rivers. 

Stepping closer slowly the police chief knelt down in front of him putting his hand on the boys shoulder who flinched away harshly like he was being struck. Retracting his hand Hop frowned releasing a strong comforting scent before speaking "You're safe pup, can you tell me anything besides your name?" 

"D-didn't want to forget myself" That simple statement that left the boys trembling lips broke the old police chief's heart. The teen before him was trembling and broken, scared of any touch he were to receive. Looking as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Trembling as if he'd never received kindness. 

"You're safe pup, you're safe. Lets get you out of this house alright?" The frantic nod told Hop all he needed too, helping the teen to his feet with no little amount of flinching and reassurance that he wasn't going to be hurt. Setting the dropped phone back on it's receiver he offered the boy further assistance. He wanted to carry him but the boy protested as loud as he could, claiming he was going to walk out of this place. 

Leading the boy down the stairs through the abandoned house and to his police jeep which had seen better days but looked like a miracle to the shaking teen. Hop wrapped the teen in his police issued bomber jacket, making sure to keep him safe and calm. Letting his pheromones out heavily after witnessing it calm the trembling boy. So close to malnourished and broken that he wasn't giving off a scent of his own, something that worried the Alpha deeply. 

The ride to the police station was quick, the teen helped inside and sat in the chief's office. Still mumbling his name and social under his breath. Curled up in Hopper's jacket and half asleep on his office couch in no time though it would take many naps and regular sleep nights to rid his face of the bags under his eyes. 

Hopper called Joyce Byers first, praying that the Omega would have enough space to take in the stray pup. She sadly declined talking about how Lonnie, her ex-husband and resident dirtbag, stopped paying child support completely and it left her strapped for cash. Though she spoke sympathetically and gave him the name of a man that she knew well since he came into the store all the time, broke too but was more likely to have the money to support a foster pup. One who was also more likely to understand what Steve would need. 

She was being honest, and he knew that. Both wished that Hawkins wasn't so small a town that state CPS wouldn't even come out to do welfare checks so placing pups and teens in their own version of foster care was left to the police. Hop had his own adopted daughter, would have taken in Steve too if it weren't for the fact his pup El was so scared of everything that moved and breathed. Just barely making friends with a group that already gave Hop enough of a headache. 

Taking up Joyce's advice he opened the phone book for a number he already had plenty memorized and glanced at the sleeping teen on his couch before dialing the number of one Wayne Munson.