steve harrington is a total slime. (x reader)

12

You got to the Byers household as quickly as you could, definitely breaking more than a few traffic laws on your way there. Now you were on the front doorstep, frantically knocking  in the hopes that someone, anyone was home.

As you pounded on the door, it occurred to you that you weren't quite sure why coming here had been your first instinct. Were you going to deliver the news yourself? Use the phone to call the police? Not say anything at all? You had arrived as if on autopilot- no specific plan in mind.

You didn't have any time to make one, either, because the door swung open before you could finish your thought. It was so quick that it made you jump, and an exhausted yet apologetic Joyce Byers wordlessly waved you inside.

Immediately upon entering the house you realized why Jonathan thought his mother had "lost it."

It was a sight to behold. Christmas lights were strung up all around, hundreds of novelty bulbs that were easily worth thousands of dollars. The landline was fried and torn out of the wall; a rotary phone with a similar scorch mark on the receiver was on the floor.

You turn your gaze from the main hallway to the living room. Nails were hammered haphazardly into the wall; yet more lights were draped over them, strung up in sloppy lines. Each bulb had a corresponding letter in thick black paint beneath it, spelling out the alphabet. They were still wet, making it apparent that this was what Joyce had been doing upon your arrival.

"Mrs. Byers..." Slowly, you turned to the woman who stood silently beside you. "Look, I need to-"

"Shhhhh." She's quick to cut you off, holding up a finger. She doesn't give so much as a glance in your direction, instead giving her full attention to the letters on the wall. "Okay, baby, talk to me." Her voice is hoarse, leaving you to wonder how long it's been since she's had a proper glass of water. Her eyes are sunken, backing up Jonathan's earlier assertion that she hadn't slept in god knows how long, so it wasn't a far off bet that she'd neglected her other needs. "Talk to me."

You look on incredulously- it's obvious that wasn't directed at you. It's then that you remember what Jonathan had told you back in the developing room, about the lights and how his mother thought Will was trying to talk to her through them.

You can't let her go on like this. "Mrs. Byers." You try again, with a little more force this time. You hate to shatter the woman's hopes, but you know what you saw down in the quarry.

She doesn't respond, still focused solely on the wall as she nervously wrings her hands. "Where are you?"

There's a short, painful silence while you try to figure out the best way to break the news to the poor woman before you see it- the unmistakeable glow of a single bulb. It's so bright that it hurts your eyes, but you couldn't look away if you tried.

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You're speechless, and as you stare at the wall that is dark once again you start to think you're imagining things. You find yourself anxiously looking around for any sign that this is all smoke and mirrors, some cruel and elaborate trick being played on the two of you.

"Right here... I-" Joyce begins to speak, stammering- "I don't know what that means." She's quiet for a second, and when she starts again her voice begins to waver. "I need you to tell me what to do."

Joyce saw it too, confirming that you hadn't lost your mind just yet. If this really was Will, and he really was right here, then where was he? Every nook and cranny of the house had been searched ten times over. And what about the body you saw down in the quarry? You bring your hand to your mouth, another wave of nausea hitting you as you begin to feel overwhelmed.

"What should I do?" Joyce pleads, desperate. "How do I get to you? How do I find you?" The words tumble out of her mouth so quickly they slur a little. "What should I do?" she asks again, begging for an answer. One by one, the lights begin to spell out something new.

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You hear a number of sickening cracks and squelches as the lights in the house flash erratically. Gasping, you turn to look at Joyce, who looks back in your direction for the first time since you'd arrived. Her attention isn't on you, though, and when you turn around to follow her gaze you're met face to face with some kind of monster trying to claw its way out of the wall.

You scream, stumbling backwards as the creature begins to tear through. What you assume are its hands are pale and veiny, and you feel yourself get lightheaded upon seeing them. You've never felt pure, raw fear like this before.

After multiple sleepless nights, a fight, and whatever the fuck this thing is supposed to be, your body decides it's had enough and you pass out just as the wall opens up.