Flipped: A Steve Harrington Enemies to Lovers

The Upside Down

It begins with you hammering nails through a baseball bat. Your tongue sticks out for better focus. One knee up on the table. In one hand, you keep a firm grip on the hammer, in your other, you pin the bat down; its end hangs carefully off the table so you don't accidentally puncture Joyce's furniture. The nails hammer through crudely, some curling round the bat from a botched job, others stick out dangerously, making it deadlier and deadlier and when you're finished you give it a thorough inspection. It looks positively medieval.

Jonathan rummages in the kitchen drawer for three of the sharpest knives he can find. One for each of you; the creature wants blood, so you're going to give it what it so terribly craves. Draw it out, and serve it its own end on a big, shiny platter.

Then, Nancy helps you set the bear trap.

"Okay, now pull," You instruct the Wheeler girl as you pry open the jagged, metal teeth. "Good. Now hold it, hollllld itttttt... done!"

It clicks into place, hungry for its next meal.

You twist the cap off the can of gasoline and begin sloshing it all over the carpet; its smell is almost overpowering, attacking your nose and making you feel lightheaded.

With the trap set, you and Nancy stand with your hands on your hips.

"We good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

You raise a palm up; she responds with a high five and awards you a smile.

All smiles quickly fade though, when Jonathan calls you both forth into the living room to present you with your blades.

"Wait, before we use them..."

You retrieve your lighter from your pocket and take the knives from Byers.

He's curious.

"What are you doing?"

"Sterlising. Can't be getting infections now, can we?"

"Oh, right yeah, of course."

You bear into your work with a deep concentration, focusing intently as you waft the lighter underneath the knives. After which, you clip the lighter shut and pocket it for the time being.

The three of you give one another the nod; you're really doing this - chests heaving, eyes wide, cheeks fully drained of all colour, but nevertheless, this is what you need to do.

For Barb.

"Alright. You both ready?" Byers asks.

Nancy looks down, almost as if she is about to cry, but her fear has frozen any tears from threatening to fall, sucked them right back into the ducts.

"Ready." She confirms.

Jonathan's lips stretch into a thin, apprehensive line as he outstretches a palm, pressing the cool steel against it, daring to slice.

"Hang on." He flinches at your abrupt words - curt and logically clipped.

Taking his hand, you guide the knife away from his palm, to his forearm. Fewer nerve endings. Less ridges to constantly reopen when you heal.

"Palms," You explain. "Terrible place to cut."

"Yeah, makes sense. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it - if anything, it's weird I know this crap."

Each of you change the position of your blades, now holding out your arms in anticipation of drawing blood.

"On three..." You confirm. "One. Two..." Your gaze flits to Nancy who is already grimacing, dreading the pain, but knowing this will probably be the easiest part of all. "You don't have to do this; there'll be enough blood with me and Jonathan."