Love Is A Battlefield (A Stranger Things/Steve Harrington Fanfiction)

Bonus Chapter: Steve's Glasses

I'm pretty used to the side effects of fighting Monsters from the Upside Down. Nightmares, PTSD, the constant paranoia that you're being watched, or that it's only a matter of time before everything falls apart again.

Emotional and mental trauma are to be expected...but there are physical traumas too.

"No! No, no, no, that's ridiculous. Its not happening, no way."

"The only thing ridiculous about this situation is you, and your refusal to face your problems!"

"You can throw out insults all day, Robin! It's not gonna change the fact that you're wrong! You're just-you're wrong."

I sighed, looking up from the tape that I was rewinding and sticking my head out of the back office.

"Do I even want to know what this argument is about?" I called. Robin and Steve both looked up at me. Steve had an arm full of VHS tapes, and Robin had one in each hand, as they had just been in the process of restocking the shelves. Robin glanced at Steve, who looked as though he'd just been caught doing something embarrassing.

I stood up, coming out of the office and crossing my arms.

"Steve?" I asked. He sighed, shooting Robin a glare.

"We were talking about our job interview...when Stevie boy here capsized the Fast Times cut out?"

"I tripped!"

"He didn't see it, and I have a theory that getting his face bashed in every year may have screwed up his eyesight." Robin explained.

"Steve?" I repeated.

"I told her I didn't want you getting worked up over nothing," he clarified, "My eyes are fine."

"Steve, I just changed the poster at the end of the aisle," I prompted, leaning against the front desk, "Read the title from where you're standing."

He stood up a little straighter.

"Easy, it says..." He trailed off, clearly fighting the urge to squint as he looked at the poster across the room. Robin and I shared a look and he groaned in frustration. "Ugh! Fine! Fine, you win, I can't read it."

"Just trying to help, Steven." Robin said, taking the movies from his arms and walking off to continue shelving. I came around the desk, standing in front of him and crossing my arms. 

"How long has this been happening?" I questioned. He shook his head.

"Since Billy...basically," My eyes widened, "But its gotten worse since the Russians. I thought I'd hidden it pretty well, but then I asked Robin if we'd gotten Ghostbusters back in..."

"It was in your hand, wasn't it-"

"It was in my hand," He confirmed, "I couldn't read it unless I held it up right in front of my face." 

"Steve!" I exclaimed.

"I know, ok! I know, I just...this just seemed like something I could handle, you know? On my own. You have enough on your plate, and this is like, so small in comparison-"

"I'm sorry, this coming from the King of carrying my baggage?" I asked. "Steve, this is easily fixed, you probably just need glasses."

"See? That! That right there, that's exactly why I didn't want to deal with this."

"Glasses?" I inquired.  He gestured with one hand, his other clasped on his hip in a stressed stance. 

"Who have you ever seen look good in glasses? Who? Name one person who didn't look like a total dork."