Head Over Heels » Steve Harrington

chapter twelve

Chapter Twelve: Cliché

Outside the mall, Lydia sat on the hood of Steve's car beside Robin. The two girls had a blanket draped around them, and Lydia was resting her head on Robin's shoulder.

Her eyelids were heavy, they felt weighted. The lack of sleep over the last twenty four hours, probably combined with the come down from the adrenaline rush and near death experiences, was finally catching up with her.

The parking lot had become surrounded by emergency vehicles and news reporters. The continuously flashing blue and red lights were starting to give Lydia a headache.

The ambulances had pronounced Billy Hargrove dead upon arrival.

Lydia had sat with Max for a while afterwards, although they barely exchanged words. She hadn't been entirely sure what to say, and she got the feeling that Max wouldn't want to hear any of the scripted bullshit people usually used.

Instead, they sat in silence, with Max's teary eyes staring despondently ahead. Lydia just wanted Max to feel her presence, to know that she was there and that she was sorry.

Jim Hopper had never made it out of the Russian base either. Lydia knew of him through Rich, who had yet to emerge from the mall. Thankfully, she knew he was okay. He had joined the rest of his team and was giving statements. Lydia could tell from the way he's been standing, the slanted shoulders, lowered head, the way he kept touching his chin; he was hurting, bad. And he was feeling guilty.

Hopper had taken Rich under his wing when he joined the police department, acting like a mentor. Lydia knew how much the loss going to hurt her friend, and it pained her too. She only wished she'd appreciated everything Hopper did to protect the town before he had to sacrifice himself to save everybody.

Joining Lydia and Robin, Steve perched on the edge of the car hood. His pinky finger brushed Lydia's and, for a good ten seconds, she sat completely still, unsure of how to react.

Lydia spared a fleeting glance over at him; his hair all disheveled, collar bloodied, skin bruised. She hadn't expected to do a full u-turn on Steve Harrington ever, let alone this past week. But there he was, bathed in the glow of car headlights, making her pulse race.

Gently, Lydia grazed the back of her hand against his. After a few moments had passed, Steve intertwined their fingers together, letting his thumb trace patterns against her skin. Lydia's heart was beating so fucking fast that she almost thought Steve could hear it, given the smile curving on his lips.

"Lydia."

She looked up, previous thoughts dismissing. "Rich!" She slid off the car, practically launching herself at him.

Rich caught her as she flung her arms around his neck, burying her head against his shoulder. "Hey, hey, hey," he said softly, placing a hand on the back of her head. "It's alright. Everything's alright."

"I'm sorry," Lydia whispered, pulling back to look at him properly. "I didn't mean to get involved, or to drag you in. One minute I was at Scoops and the next I was in that fucking Russian lair and they were drugging us–"

"Woah, woah, woah," Rich held his hands out, attempting to get Lydia to slow her words. "You were what?"

She took a deep breath. "We got locked in the elevator and ended up in their base underneath the mall."

"Yes, you mentioned that part earlier."

"Well, then they captured me, Robin and Steve and drugged us!"

"They drugged you?" Rich asked, placing his hands either side of Lydia's face to check her over. "And you only just decided to mention this now?!"