Surrender // Steve Harrington x Reader

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

HAWKINS LAB. 1979.

"But why do we need her?" You whisper to Henry as he feigns interest in the game of chess you were playing. Your eyes dart suspiciously around at the room full of other test subjects and the orderlies watching over them, ensuring nobody else could hear your hushed plotting, until they rest on the young girl that was the topic of your conversation.

Henry had been here for as long as you could remember, once under the guise of Peter Ballard, though he'd told you his true name and history long ago. He was your friend. No, more than that... You saw him as almost a father figure, shaping you and giving advice when you needed it and though this may have stemmed from your orphaned state, he seemed to accept the role all the same.

Your powers were there like a simmering electricity, though you struggled to control and enhance them in ways the others seemed to excel in.

You were useless, even you knew it. But you tried your hardest. You listened to his advice, you trained as hard as you could... It was just like there was some block within your mind, holding you back and stopping you from reaching your full potential.

It was frustrating. 

Not to mention humiliating, seeing that disappointment lingering in his eyes every time you failed to complete even the most simple task set to you by Brenner, or when you couldn't help Henry remove the chip from his neck that stifled his true powers.

Your pride was winning out, the parental guidance he offered you making you teeter on the precipice of jealousy at his sudden interest at subject number Eleven. Even at her young age, her powers were vast and far beyond her years. You'd be impressed if it didn't leave you feeling like the old toy to be tossed aside for something better.

"Because with her, I'll finally be free to execute the plans we've spent so long putting together." His tone was flat as always, though held a slight edge of frustration. Your questioning this morning was becoming tedious to him, you could tell from the way his lips tightened into a hard line. In your youthful naivety, you back down and counter his move on the board despite not fully understanding the rules of the game anyway. "Her power is immense. She just can't see it yet."

Pale eyes rise to find your own already waiting, and they soften as they notice the slight pout to your lips - something you hadn't even realised you'd been doing until he mumbles, "Stop that. You'll always be my favorite. But you must understand how necessary she is to everything we've worked so hard for."

A smile, slow growing but firm in its ascent, rises up the corners of your mouth, settling any negative feelings you might have had. Strange, how honeyed words could sweeten such a sour mood. 

He makes his move next, sitting back in elated satisfaction as he returns your smile to you. "Ah, check-mate. Pay attention next time, Two. Your own worst enemy is often the distractions around you. If you keep your eye on the ball and ensure you're always one step ahead then you'll rarely lose... That goes for not only chess but everything else in life as well."

"Number two." The familiar and unwelcome drawl of Doctor Brenner floats into the room and you immediately snap your head to look at him at the mention of your assigned number. "With me." He tells you, eyes lingering on your current position across from Henry a little too long.

You figured he suspected, but you and Henry were careful. They had no proof of your plans and no idea the extent of them. You were barely a teenager after all, no threat to a lab full of guards and orderlies and Henry was subdued from using his own powers. Brenner had no reason to believe you could be a threat at all.

Oh, how wrong he would be.

Although it couldn't be denied that at first you had questioned Henry's elaborate intentions to eradicate humanity, the words he had spoken to you had come to make sense in your mind. The filth of the world, the greed and destruction humanity devastated such a beautiful planet with... It couldn't go unanswered.