Stonathan ❤️

116

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to birthdaycandles on ao3

A/N: if i ever do the same story over again just comment it please

Apparently Jonathan's ribs are broken.

Honestly, the majority of his pain isn't even in his ribs. His back is what's really been hurting ever since a metal stool was slammed into it at a speed of like, two thousand miles per hour. And his back is bruised, the doctor told both him and Mom while they stared at his x-rays, but fortunately his spine is uninjured. It's his ribs. Jonathan can see for himself on the x-rays, which he vaguely thinks of taking to use for a photography project. He'll have to rest, regulate his breathing to avoid pneumonia, and ice the area regularly. The good news is that he can go home, the doctor says with a slap on Jonathan's shoulder that's maybe too forceful considering the fact that he's here from being savagely beaten.

But he can't go home. Nancy is still waiting to be checked, and her little brother who's much worse off than she is hasn't even gone yet. Jonathan trudges out of the exam room with his ice pack and settles beside her on the same plastic chair as before. Shouldn't hospitals invest in more comfortable chairs for their waiting rooms? It doesn't make sense.

"What did they say?" Nancy asks, shifting in her seat to face him fully.

"Broken ribs." He points vaguely in the area. "Only two of them. Bruising everywhere else. I am miraculously not concussed."

"Thank God." Nancy leans in to hug him, which they've done like ten times so far tonight, and he reciprocates because she's his girlfriend and she's upset and you have to ignore that your ribs are screaming in pain when your girlfriend is upset. When she straightens back up, he catches her glancing in the direction behind him. Jonathan waits the appropriate ten seconds before casually glancing in that direction for himself.

Robin from freshman year geometry is glaring at them. She never glared at Jonathan back in freshman year geometry--in fact they did a project together in the first few weeks and got along completely fine. She was really good at geometry. But now she's giving them a look that can definitely be described as a glare and she doesn't even flinch when Jonathan meets her eyes. If anything, she intensifies her gaze. He looks away.

His entire body aches. His thoughts are a frenzied, cyclical mess the same way they always are after a monster event. He can't help but go through the worst of it over and over again (his fingers in El's leg, a tearful goodbye to his mother which could have easily been the last, Billy Hargrove barreling at Nancy while her bullets uselessly cracked the windshield) and run through the list of names to ensure that everyone was truly, genuinely alright. He decides to run through again.

Nancy is beside him, aching from her own beating but talking coherently and acting normal. Mike beside her, snapping in annoyance every time Nancy shoves him awake from his constant dozing. His hand is in El's, but El is mostly in Hopper's lap while he brushes her hair out of her face and comforts her through the pain of the stitches in her leg. Seated against the other wall, Mom has one arm around Max, who seems too exhausted to cry anymore, and one arm around Will, who's asleep against her shoulder. Lucas disappeared into an exam room with his parents and Erica ten minutes ago. Dustin was likewise taken by his mother about fifteen minutes ago despite his protests and pleas to stay with Steve. Jonathan forces himself to glance over at Steve and Robin and finds, with some relief, that she's no longer glaring at him.

Her left cheek is bruised sickly yellow and beneath that is a dark red, which has settled over her entire face. She's leaning against Steve, who has matching redness on his face that's only visible on the areas that aren't coated in blood and bruising. Jonathan thinks he'd be accustomed to seeing Steve so beaten up, but he never is. This time seems a lot worse. Jonathan can't believe he hasn't been called back yet. Just from his spot a few feet away, he can see the labored rise and fall of Steve's chest and the relentless shaking of his entire body. It is cold in here and he's decked out in only his little work uniform shorts and tee, but still. Jonathan hopes they call him next, even if it delays going home.