the view between villages // a stranger things choose-your-own-adventure

PAGE 42: Confront the bastard

You brace yourself before shoving the door open. The sight is, unfortunately, exactly what you expected.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" you yell, glaring at the pair of them. The lovers quickly detangle from each other, and Steve's mistress—Heidi, you'll never forget her name now—squeaks in shame as she pulls the comforter up to cover the two of them.

Steve, on the other hand, has the audacity to look annoyed. He leans up on his elbows and narrows his eyes at you.

"Oh, don't tell me," he says, a sharpened edge to his voice that you aren't used to making your head spin. "You had another nightmare and need to cry to me about it?"

His words feel like a slap. You ignore the way they sting and say, "What? No! I got woken up by the sound of you loudly fucking somebody else, you ass!"

"Should I go?" Heidi asks meekly.

"No," Steve says, at the same time you say, "YES PLEASE."

"Babe, don't go anywhere," Steve says, giving Heidi a sickly sweet grin. A smile that should've been reserved for you.

You have a million questions. How long has this been going on? Is this the first time, or has Steve been cheating on you for your entire relationship? Or, he called her 'babe.' Was he with Heidi first and you're the one he cheated with? Does Robin know about this? How come he thought it was a good idea to fuck Heidi when you're right down the hall?

You can't bring yourself to say any of that. Instead, you stare at Steve and the even expression on his face, the way he looks like he doesn't even care that he's shattering your heart right in front of you.

"Why?" you ask, voice meek. "I mean, I stayed in Hawkins for you, so we could make this work. Why would you do this? I—I love you."

Steve cackles. It sounds so unlike him.

"Really?" he says. "Do you? Because I was starting to doubt that you even cared about me, let alone loved me. You wouldn't even say it!"

He's right. The first time you tell him you love him is right after you catch him in bed with a mistress. Your timing is fan-fucking-tastic.

"I do!" you say. Tears fill your eyes, giving the view of Steve and Heidi a blurry, glassy sheen. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I was scared."

"Well," Steve drawls, "while you were being a big pussy, I found somebody else." He gently tucks a rogue blonde curl behind Heidi's ear. She beams. "Someone a lot better than you, Waldenbooks. In more ways than one."

He's killing you. Right now, you feel like you're being killed. Maybe you are, by the way the stress makes your chest tighten. Your heart's about to pop and Steve doesn't even care.

"I—I—"

"Just get out of here already!" Heidi snaps. Her voice sounds deeper than it did before. Her eyes gleam in the lamplight. It's unsettling. "We don't want you watching us."

"Yeah," Steve says. Same as Heidi, his voice is deeper, scarier. His eyes are not his own. "Just get out of here. No one wants you around. You don't belong here. Not with me, not in Hawkins. Not anywhere."

You start to hyperventilate. The walls are closing in, and your stomach turns. You squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed. You hear a spooky chime, and then—

***

"ROBIN! CALL 911!"

Your eyes snap open.

You aren't in the guest bedroom anymore. You're back in Steve's room. He's standing next to the bed, one hand on your forehead, the other curling around your wrist.

Oh my god. It was just another nightmare. That means Steve didn't cheat on you or say those horrible things.

You would feel relieved, except Steve looks really upset.

"What happened?" you say, slurring slightly from the exhaustion.

"You weren't waking up," Steve says, voice shaking. He gulps and roughly rubs at his teary eyes. "I came to check on you, and you looked like you were having one of your nightmares. But when I tried to wake you up, you wouldn't! And your pulse was so weak, I—I was afraid the weed did something to you. I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault."

Before you can assure him it's fine, that you're fine, Robin bursts into the room, a cordless phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. She's so frazzled, she doesn't even notice that you're awake again.

"Does Waldenbooks have any severe allergies? They're trying to rule everything out before deciding if it's an overdose."

"I'm fine!" you say, though you do feel a little lightheaded. "Robin, hang up the phone."

"But—"

"Robin! Do it!"

To the 911 operator, she says, "Uh, they're fine now. Thanks!" and disconnects the call.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Steve says, frowning. "Maybe you need to go to the hospital, or something."

"No hospital!" you say. "I just want to go back to sleep."

Steve and Robin share a look.

"Uh, last time you did that," Robin says, "we thought you literally died. I think Steve's right."

You feel your anger at the Steve from your nightmare leach into the real world.

"Well, I think he's wrong!" you shout. "So, buzz off!"

Robin huffs and opens her mouth to retort. Steve, used to the flaring temper you've had as of late, gives her a look and waves her away. She sighs and walks out as Steve sits on the bed next to you.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in your dream?" he asks quietly. "I know that sometimes helps."

You don't want him to be so nice to you. It makes it harder for you to be mad at him for something he did in a dream when he's sweet like this.

"No," you say, sullen. "I'm fine. I just want to sleep through the night for once."

"I know, babe. I'm sorry. I know this sucks. Uh, and the weed was probably a shitty idea. So how about this: we head to the library tomorrow after our shifts and do some research on psychiatrists in the area. Try and find a match for you."

You scowl at him.

"You think I'm crazy? You think I need a shrink to drug me up?"

"I think you have PTSD and depression," Steve counters. "Just like me. I've been feeling a lot better now that I started seeing someone. It could really help you too."

You feel like a shitty partner. You had no idea Steve was seeing a psychiatrist. You've been so focused on yourself and your own problems.

The nightmare version of Steve's words echo in your head, the reminder that you haven't told Steve you loved him yet. Maybe you've done a shitty job of showing it, too.

Without warning, you throw your arms around Steve's neck and hug him tightly. He hugs you back, murmuring encouraging, kind words when you start to cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sob.

"Whoa, what are you sorry for?"

"I suck. I'm selfish."

"Stop that. You aren't. You're struggling. We all have our moments. But it's okay."

You sniffle and, with your face still buried in his neck, you say, "I'm sorry. I love you."

You aren't sure if he heard you at first. It isn't until he hugs you tighter and says, "I love you too. So much," that you know he did.

"But I still think I should take you to the hospital," Steve says. "Babe, seriously. Robin and I were shouting and shaking you, and you were just dead to the world."

You aren't happy about it, but you agree to let him take you to the ER. Robin, having already forgiven you for the outburst, comes along too, and buys you a bunch of vending machine candy while you wait.

WHAT ODD NIGHTMARES. GO TO PAGE 44 TO CONTINUE THE STORY.