steve harrington is a total slime. (x reader)

7

You held up the thin piece of paper, keeping it still as Jonathan put the thumbtacks in. This was a process you had repeated what felt like hundreds of times this morning. The two of you had been putting missing posters up around town, and now you found yourselves at the high school, putting them on any board with free space.

The experience from last night still weighed heavy on your mind, and you wondered how Eleven was doing. Had she talked to Mike's mom yet? Was she back from the nuthouse or wherever she came from? Part of you hoped she wasn't- wherever she came from had obviously fucked her up.

"Hey." You heard Nancy's soft voice behind you, but didn't bother to turn around.

Jonathan, not having a reason to ignore her, was the better person and actually responded. "Oh, hey."

"I just... I wanted to say, you know, um-" she paused, looking for the right words- "I'm sorry, about everything." Jonathan was quiet. "Everyone's thinking about you," Nancy offered. "It sucks."

"Yeah," was all he could muster up in response.

"Y/N-" Nancy turned her attention to you, and your grip tightened on the stack of poster copies in your hands. "I'm-"

You whipped around, cutting her off. "You're what? You're sorry? For what?" You scoffed. "Sorry for ditching me? Sorry for fraternizing with the enemy? Sorry for me because I'm not popular enough for you anymore? What?" You didn't expect the words to come tumbling out like they did- the anger had been building so slowly that you didn't realize how much of it there was until it overflowed. "Sorry that you're hanging with Tommy H and Carol of all people now? Sorry that you're obviously screwing Steve Harrington?"

Nancy stood there, stunned, but the bell rang before she could retaliate. Not that you'd have given her a chance to, anyway, because you'd already stormed out the front doors of the school.

Jonathan joined you not long after. He gave you a questioning look, having witnessed your outburst, but you averted your gaze and silently got in his car.

The car ride to Lonnie's place was quiet and tense. After it was clear that he wasn't going to get an explanation out of you, Jonathan turned on the stereo in an effort to fill the uneasy silence that enveloped the car. The cassette that played was one of Jonathan's own mixes- one that he made for Will, actually- and it had a number of his brother's favorite songs on it.

You guessed hearing it was even more painful than nothing at all, because Jonathan turned it off before the first song could finish.

Eventually you were out of Hawkins and in the city. The weather was bleak as Jonathan drove along a stretch of small houses packed tightly next to each other, eventually stopping across from one that looked particularly dingy.

"Hey." Before you could get out of the car, he grabbed your wrist. You silently looked up at him. "Stay here. My dad... Lonnie, he's-" Jonathan cut himself off.

It was obvious he didn't want you to meet him, so you folded your hands in your lap. "Okay." You offered him a warm smile as he let go of your hand, "Good luck." He returned the smile before getting out of the car and quickly walking up to the front porch.

You lost sight of Jonathan after he pushed his way past the young-looking woman who opened the door. You understood his distaste for his father- after all, yours had walked out similarly to his. The situation was a little different, though. Jonathan was able to contact Lonnie- he knew where he lived, he could call him, he saw him on occasion. Their relationship wasn't pleasant, but it was there.

Your father disappeared without a trace. No address, no number, no nothing. You were old enough to remember when it happened, but Dustin was just a baby. He didn't see how much it ruined your mother. He didn't remember her downward spiral into what she was now. He didn't know about the many short-lived boyfriends that came after the man that destroyed her. The man that destroyed your perception of love. The man that destroyed you.

Maybe it was for the best that Dustin didn't know anything about his own father. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

After a while, Jonathan returned. It was obvious that he didn't find Will, and whatever he did find had left a bad taste in his mouth. You decided to respect his privacy just as he has respected yours earlier, and silently stared down at the poster in your hands as he started the drive back to Hawkins.

You sighed as you looked at the picture of Will, blurry but recognizable. He didn't deserve this. Neither did Jonathan, or Joyce, or Mike or Lucas or Dustin. Eleven definitely didn't deserve any of what she'd been handed, though you didn't know what exactly what it was she'd got. No one deserved this.

You wonder whatever happened to Eleven.