Brave Like You (Steve Harrington)

Seventeen.

-Candace-

"Steve!" I called after him, he didn't listen to me. I chased him in heels through the dance hall all the way into the parking lot, trying to get his attention. "Steve!" I called again, "Steve! Stop! Please!"

We were outside now, and he whipped around, his face burning with anger. "What do you want, Candace?"

He didn't scare me. I stood my ground despite him being much taller than me. "You're drunk, Steve. I'm not letting you drive home."

He scoffs, not wanting to take me seriously. "I'm fine, Candace. Not that you fucking care anyway."

He turned and he started walking off. I stopped him with one more sentence. "Drunk driving is how my mom died, Steve. You know that." I walked up to him again, and I took his keys out of his hand. "I'm not losing someone else I care about when I can prevent it this time."

I heard another pair of feet approaching us. They stopped when they got to us. It was just Eddie. "I was hoping you two didn't take off yet."

"Perfect timing, Eddie. Steve is drunk, so I'm going to drive back home, will you follow us in your van and take me home after?"

"Of course," Eddie says, and he nods. "I'll go get the van and drive around."

Eddie trotted off. Steve eyed me curiously. "I thought that you didn't have a license?"

"I got it on my birthday last month," I told him, "Come on, I'm taking you home."

He reluctantly listens. As we waited for Eddie to come around, Steve slouched in the passenger seat and he looked out of the window. "I can't go home."

"What?" I ask, looking at him now.

"My dad will murder me if I come home drunk," he explains.

I sigh, not exactly sure about what I am about to ask him. "Do you want to sleep on my couch?"

He shakes his head, "No, no, no. I'm okay. I just hope that he's not also drunk," He shifted in his seat, "He can be kind of scary when he's drunk."

I saw Eddie's van pull up. "Okay, hold on a second. Don't go anywhere."

He pulls the flask out of his coat pocket. "I'm not going anywhere."

I got out of the car, and I walked up to Eddie's drive side, he rolled his window down. "I'm going to take Steve back to our place."

Eddie cocked his eyebrow at me, "Why?"

"Because he's too drunk to go home," I explain, "He's going through a lot. I will deal with Uncle Wayne. It's going to be fine. I'm going to drive him home. Tell your boyfriend I left, and that I'm never doing anything like this for him ever again."

I walked off again, heading back to Steve's car. I got back in his driver's seat and I started the car. The music was blaring, I turned it down quickly. "Good God, Steve. Are you deaf?"

He laughed, and I began to drive us to the trailer park. Steve rested his head against the passenger seat window. I knew he wasn't asleep because he was singing along to every song. I then realized that he was listening to the tape I made him a few months ago.

I had to help him into the trailer, and I made him sit on the couch while I got some clean pajamas from Eddie's room. I grabbed some of the first clean clothes I could find because it smelled like teenage boy in here, which was not a pleasant experience.

I told Steve I would set up the couch for him while he got changed. He exited about 10 minutes later, his suit perfectly folded up. Even when intoxicated Steve Harrington is still a perfectionist. It was also funny to see him wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, because I know under any other circumstances he wouldn't be caught dead in that shirt.