SWEET CREATURE//steve harrington

TWELVE

"OKAY, AM I GOING NUTS, OR IS THERE MORE OF YOU THAN THERE WERE LAST TIME?" HOPPER ASKED GRUFFLY, LOOKING AT DUSTIN IN THE REARVIEW. They were barreling down the road at eighty miles an hour, the trees whipping by in a dark blur, and Vivian's stomach was on its way to getting a gymnastics gold medal. Dustin cleared his throat. "We've acquired some more help, yes," he confirmed. "Steve, and Sweets, and Max."

Hopper frowned. "I know you, Harrington. Adding a lot more shit onto my plate last year than I needed. I had enough to worry about without you getting into fights with Byers over the Wheeler kid's sister," he said. Steve chewed his lip. "Again, sorry about that, sir," Steve mumbled. "Save the apologies, kid. That nice note your mommy made you write to the station was just charming." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and he caught Vivian's eye in the mirror and winked at her. He wrote an apology note to the chief? 

She'd never formally met him, but whenever Vivian had seen Hopper, he hadn't been a man of many words. He'd come into her dad's gas station quite a few times, usually early in the morning, bedraggled and a cigarette hanging from his lips. Snatches of whispers she heard around town, especially last year, during Will's disappearance, gave the impression that he was the police chief in name only. People said that after his daughter had died he lost his spark. That description matched nothing about the man Vivian saw in the driver's seat. Bloody and bruised. Driven. In hot pursuit.

Hopper frowned at Vivian and Max in the mirror. "How did you three get roped into this crock of shit?" he asked, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel as they careened down the road. "Henderson somehow convinced me," Steve said, running a hand through his hair. "And I helped out Nancy and Johnathan, last time. With...everything." "Huh," Hopper mulled, a little shocked. "And I convinced Viv. I'm surprised she even stayed to listen to me tell the story, let alone help. But, here we are." Vivian nudged the back of his seat with her knee as a form of acknowledgement.

"I just wanna find out what's going on here," Max said, in a few tones louder than she normally spoke. Dustin and Lucas shared a proud look. "Well, listen," Hopper began, his voice heavy. "Things are worse than we thought. That lab is swarming with a million of those things, and they're bloodthirsty. We--" His voice cut out, and he cleared his throat. "Well, we lost Bob, Joyce's guy." Vivian had heard the name, but she couldn't put a face to it. Dustin exhaled sadly. "Damn," he cursed. 

The car fell silent. The only sound was the road, the white noise nearly putting Vivian to sleep. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically. "So, where exactly are we going?" Max asked sharply. "The Byers' house," Hopper said. "There's something in that kid. We need to figure out what's going on before anybody else dies." "What a cheerful explanation," Max mumbled, only loud enough for Vivian to hear. Vivian chuckled, prodding Max's elbow with her own. 

She stared out the window at the trees flying by, wondering why she didn't wish she was somewhere else. She always felt out of place to a certain degree wherever she went. But right now, with four people crammed in the two-person backseat of the patrol car, with Steve in front of her, the trees flying by, dog-tired, she felt like she was finally where she belonged.

꧁♡꧂

Depressing didn't even describe the atmosphere of the Byers' house when they'd walked in. Vivian tried to cover up her initial reaction of shock at the interior, covered with scribbled drawings and looking a little ransacked. She met Steve's eyes, finding her own emotions reflected in them.

Nobody spoke. Will's lifeless body lay on the couch, clad in a hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket. Vivian never remembered him looking as small as he did laying there. He looked like such a child; it broke her to see. Johnathan knelt at his side, muttering and crying, holding Will's hand. Nancy stood behind him silently, her hand loyally on his shoulder.