Joe Keery Imagines

The Only Cure-Steve Harrington

Requested by Harringtonswife-

In the eighties, no one talks about their mental health. You're either healthy or insane. I tried talking to my parents about it but my dad doesn't believe in all that "mumbo jumbo". My mom told me it was all in my head and if I stayed there, she'd have to send me to a mental hospital.

The only person who responded in a positive and supportive way was my best friend, Steve Harrington. When I told Steve that I was struggling and wasn't able to fix it or get out of the dark hole I seem to continually throw myself into, he was the one who suggested that I might be struggling with depression. He then wrapped me in a hug and promised that he would always be there to pull me out.

Even though Steve was extremely supportive, I found myself a little hesitant to run to him. After I told him, he slowly started to change. He constantly checked on me, jumped to protect me before anything happened, and eagerly helped me with anything no matter how small.

Our friends didn't notice Steve's change. He always seemed crazily protective of me to them. They aren't wrong, but I've noticed his changes. At lunch, he started draping his arm across the back of my chair.

I was worried our friends would notice and, most importantly, notice how it made my whole face burn. All of that would disappear when I started getting anxious and Steve would move his arm from my chair to my shoulders. I don't know how he always knew when I needed his comfort, but he did. Without fail.

Today was no different. The day started with my alarm not going off and having to get ready in ten minutes. Then my mom's car wouldn't start so my dad had to drop me off at school before he went to work. It only got worse from there.

First period, I could barely stay awake. Second period, I had forgotten we had a math test and I definitely failed it. Then I got paired with the dumbest player on the basketball team for our history project and he was more focused on flirting with me than getting any work done. Now I was heading to lunch.

"Hey, you," Steve said the second I sat down. "You okay?"

"She got paired with Andy for the history project," Carol laughed.

"That sucks!" Tommy laughed.

"I bet he's going to flirt with you the whole time," Carol fake gagged. "Then again. . . He's pretty cute."

"She could do better," Tommy scoffed. "Right, Harrington?"

Steve reached under the table and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "If he gives you any problems, tell me."

"Steve," I started but he cut me off.

"I mean it, Y/N. If he says anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or, I swear, if he touches you. . ."

"Dude, chill," Tommy laughed. "He hasn't even done anything yet. They just got assigned today. Wait until next week to kill him."

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to eating without letting go of my hand. He looked over, his eyebrows fluttering in confusion.

"Why aren't you eating?" He asked softly. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I am," I said, clearing my throat.

"Then why aren't you eating?" Steve pushed.

"I was running late this morning and didn't have time to make my lunch," I explained under my breath.

I looked up at him when he pushed his lunch between the two of us.

"What are you. . ."

"Eat," he said.

"But Steve. . ."