steve harrington is a total slime. (x reader)

11

That night you went to the only place you could have a moment to yourself to think- Sattler Quarry.

The quarry was full of water and not much else. Once owned and operated by Frank Sattler of the Sattler Company, it had long since been depleted of its natural wealth and was consequently deserted because of this.

The scenery was beautiful, you mused to yourself as you stood upon a rock, despite the eeriness that lingered over the water like a dense fog.

Sighing, you sat down on the rock and dangled your legs over the edge. The thought of falling sent a shiver down your spine, but carelessly you peered down at the water anyway.

If you had to guess, you'd say it was about 200-250 feet from where you were now to the surface of the water, and who knew how deep the water went?

Regardless of accuracy, it was safe to say that it was a long way down.

Looking down at the sharp drop you remembered the drunken ravings of a certain George Burness, one of many flings your mom had brought home one night.

"Did you know," he'd slurred as he looked over you in a way that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, "that I once jumped into that quarry?"

It was bullshit, obviously. A drop from that height was lethal no matter how much water there was to break your fall.

Your mother's many boyfriends had always been bullshit. She seemed to have an unparalleled talent in that regard- you'd almost think she enjoyed having her heart broken.

You knew she didn't. She was the shell of the woman you could only remember in pictures. That woman shattered shortly after Dustin was born, when your father left, when you were just barely able to babble out a coherent word.

Despite how young you were, you still maintained the memory of the light in her eyes that had died out a long time ago. Dustin didn't have that luxury, or the heartache that came with it. Though your memorizes were hazy and tinted through the lenses of nostalgia, they were undeniably there. He was just a baby.

Dustin was an absolute gremlin and you adored him so, so much. You hated him- in the sibling way, though, where you'd absolutely put yourself through hell for him.

You found yourself shivering, not from the November Indiana cold winds, but from the mounting realization that you had.

Not literal hell, obviously, but the kind of hell that ate at you, that stops at nothing until it consumes you.

The kind of hell that couldn't be washed away by water.

The stale ache in your stomach throbs as if on cue, and your thoughts return to the event that had occurred just hours ago in the parking lot of Hawkins High.

Tommy had hit you right where some of the worst bruises were, hard enough to see stars. It wasn't the worst pain you'd felt in your life, but it was definitely up there.

Still, it was enough to make you collapse right where you were.

When you saw Tommy preparing to hit you again, some overdramatic part of you thought maybe it was the end- that maybe this was how you died, in the parking lot of your hometown's high school.

The finishing blow never came, though. Steve had made sure of that.

It baffled you. Why didn't Steve let him keep going? He had every right to- hell, you'd basically just broken his nose in front of his girlfriend and his posse. Part of you wondered why he didn't join in himself.

Frustrated, you tossed a nearby stone into the water below. It fell for some time before you heard the satisfying splash.

The rock you had thrown was fairly large, and the ripples it made in the once perfectly still water almost invited you closer.

It was beautiful, and it got your mind off of everything. It just the brief release you were craving, and before you knew it you were throwing every rock you could lift into the quarry.

It didn't make you feel better, really. It was just a temporary distraction from the thought that haunted you, but that didn't mean it wasn't welcome.

As if in a trance, you watched the small ripples collide with each other. You couldn't look away- something in the back of your mind told you not to.

Something caught your eye, bobbing up and down in the water.

It was weird but not too far out of the ordinary. Whatever it was must've been disturbed by the rock you'd tossed. You looked closer.

It took everything you had not to throw up when you realized what the waves had brought to the surface.