when you know, you know ; steve harrington

seven ─ about Hawkins

Finally, they were out of that stupid room.

But freedom? That was still a stretch.

Two unbelievable things had happened. First, Steve Harrington had actually won a fight against a Russian soldier — which, honestly, felt like watching a raccoon outwit a lion. And second... Dustin had claimed the Russians were trying to open the Gate.

A gate?

Teddy frowned, squinting as they made their way downstairs, the harsh hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. "How the hell is that supposed to be a gate?" she asked, incredulous. "It looks like the inside of a microwave threw up."

"All you need to know is that it's bad," Steve muttered, still catching his breath from the brawl.

Teddy scoffed. "Wow. Thanks for the National Geographic explanation, Captain Hair."

"Like 'end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it' kind of bad," Dustin offered helpfully.

"I don't get it!" she snapped. "Elaborate! You can't just throw 'apocalypse' around like it's casual Friday!"

Steve stepped closer, eyes softening as he met her glare head-on. His voice lowered, quiet but firm. "It's better that way, Teddy," he said, his tone barely above a whisper. "The more you know, the worse it gets. Trust me."

Teddy's frustration flickered into something rawer. "I chose to stay in this mess with you, Steve. That means something. Don't try to protect me by shutting me out—if you're in danger, then I'm already in danger too. I can't watch that happen again. Not to you."

His gaze faltered for a second, lips parting slightly as if caught off-guard by the crack in her voice. Then, gently, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and brushed his thumb along her cheek. "That won't happen," he promised. "Not to me. Not to you. I've got you, Teddy."

It would've been the perfect moment—until—

"Um, sorry to interrupt your little rom-com," Erica said, folding her arms with all the grace of a fourth-grader who'd just outwitted the Pentagon, "but Steve? Where's your Russian buddy?"

Teddy's heart dropped.

She and Steve spun around in unison. Empty room. No Ivan Drago in sight.

"Shit," she breathed.

Just like that, the chaos returned. A new round of running commenced, as usual. Steve grabbed her hand without thinking, leading the group like a panicked but oddly graceful mall rat. They burst into a side room, Robin slamming the door shut behind them.

Steve and Robin pressed their backs to the door, bodies bracing against the sudden thuds of fists and boots on the other side.

"Stay with the kids!" Steve shouted, fingers slipping from Teddy's wrist.

She didn't let go. "I'm not leaving you."

"Teddy, seriously—someone needs to get them out. That's you."

Robin chimed in, panting. "We've got this. Go!"

"No, I'm not leaving you both to get flattened like pancakes! We go together!" she cried, tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

"Nothing's gonna happen to us!" Steve growled. "You have to trust me. We don't have time to argue—get help!"

Teddy stared at him for one long second, heart pounding like it was trying to escape her chest. "I'll be back," she whispered, voice tight. "I promise."

With one last look—one silent scream she couldn't let out—she turned and ran with Dustin and Erica, Steve's voice still echoing faintly behind them.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Teddy never thought Hawkins would turn out to be a mystery-thriller of a town.

Five years ago, it was all street fairs and lazy summer nights. Now? Interdimensional monsters. Russians under the mall. A Gate to hell—or something like it.

They found a duct to hide in, the metal cold and claustrophobic around them. Dustin was focused, barking instructions like he'd been training for this his whole life. Teddy, though? Her mind wasn't in the ducts. It was with the two idiots holding back a horde of angry Russians.

She tried to unscrew a panel, hands trembling.

"Screw this stu—"

"Need a hand?" Erica asked, raising a brow.

"I've got it," Teddy muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"You really don't," Erica said flatly. "Let me save the day again, will you?"

Teddy chuckled despite herself and sat back, letting Erica pass the tools to Dustin.

"I'm honestly useless," Teddy sighed, burying her face in her palms.

"No, you're not," Dustin said firmly. "Steve said you're amazing."

That caught her off guard. She peeked up through her fingers. "He did?"

"I mean—I think you are too," Dustin corrected, cheeks pink. She offered a crooked smile.

"So... what was he like, back then?" she asked quietly. "Steve, I mean."

"Douchebag," Dustin said instantly.

"Useless piece of shit," Erica added, matter-of-fact.

Teddy blinked. "Okay, ouch."

"Hey, we're not wrong," Dustin said with a shrug. "He used to be called 'King Steve' and it definitely went to his head. He was a jerk. But... after Nancy, he started changing."

Teddy winced at the name. Nancy Wheeler. Another ghost between her and Steve.

"How is she?" she asked, arms hugging her waist.

"Pretty, yeah. But her personality wasn't all that back then. Now? She's cool. Danced with me at the Snowball," Dustin said with a proud little grin.

"Okay, okay," Erica cut in. "Can we focus before your ice cream buddies become Russian roadkill?"

"With that attitude, they're doomed already," Dustin sassed.

"I'm just being realistic," Erica shot back. "We've made, what—point three miles in nine hours? Then there's the three-hour tunnel hike. We've got at least ten miles back to the elevator. That's a twelve-and-a-half-day trip. Minimum."

Teddy's jaw dropped. "Did you seriously just math that in your head?"

"I'm good with numbers," Erica muttered, eyes shifting away.

Dustin blinked. "You're a nerd."

Teddy smirked. "Told you."

"Nope," Erica snapped, cheeks coloring. "You don't get to say that."

"Nerd."

"Shut up."

"Neeeerd."

"I will end you, Barbie."

"Nerd."

"—Ugh!"

"It's done," Dustin cut in, finally unscrewing the panel with a triumphant grin. The fan stopped spinning.

He smirked. "Shall we move, Nerd?"

Erica glared at him. Teddy snorted. For a moment, they were just kids again—laughing in the face of absolute insanity.

And somehow, that made her believe they just might make it out.