Alone, No More (Harringrove)

Chapter 4//Room-Mate

CHAPTER 4
A migraine pulsed against Steve's skull as he drove from Hawkins high with Dustin in the passenger seat, and four, very loud, kids crammed in the back seat. He had already given them a don't-fucking-ruin-my-car talk, to which the kids promptly dismissed. Dustin was busy excitedly hollering his speculations for the upcoming game of D&D while the others argued with him, and each other.

"Are you gunna play this time?" Dustin asked Steve, practically blowing his eardrums.

"Jesus, Dustin!" Steve retaliated, pulling into the Byer's driveway he had known all too well. "Use your inside voice!"

Dustin muttered an apology but looked at him with big puppy eyes, still expecting Steve to answer.

"No, I'm way too old for that stuff," He finally answered, parking the car. He noticed the patch job on the side of the house that had been hammered in once upon a time.

"You're 18, not 80," Mike sassed Steve who glared at him through the rear view mirror.

"Everyone out!" Steve ordered the kids, ignoring Mike. The four in the back spilled out and followed Dustin into the house; the scent of apple crumble in the air.

Mrs. Byers swooped around the corner to the kitchen with her oven mitts still on, and engulfed the children in a big hug. Her hair had been pulled up with a clip and she wore her work uniform still. It was refreshing seeing her calm and happy.

"Oh Steve," she cooed, releasing the children who scattered, then walked up to him and squeezed his shoulder. Steve held resisted flinching away from her after she, unknowingly, pressed on a bruise, and smiled at her. "You're healing up nicely"

It's true he had healed nicely since he last saw her a week ago. The bruises on his body had yellowed and most of his cuts had shut already. He had taken a week off of life to sleep, kind of, and make sure he didn't look to much like a human punching bag. He only wished he could do the same for his memories, and heal the fear he felt on the daily.

Steve found himself in the living room, where Mrs. Byers had set up a small table and chairs that surrounded it. The kids were already at their game, serious expressions on each face, so Steve plopped down on one of the couches that lined the room. Will's mother came around offering crumble to everyone, which Steve eagerly took and inhaled promptly.

He realized that, in this very room where so much had happened, he felt his safest. Even if the walls had moved with monsters and more tears had been wept here than anywhere else, he felt like he never wanted to leave.

He smiled to himself and watched for hours as the kids played. Sometimes they would start yelling at each other and sometimes they'd make Steve settle something. But he wouldn't choose anything else to do that this.

Soon it was time to go, and after dropping off everyone except Max, he drove back to his house. The kids had played for 5 hours straight, although they had mentioned they'd played 8 hours straight once, and even Steve had began nodding off sleep.

He showed Max the spare room where she would be sleeping once they got to his house. He told her she had free reign of the house and told her to ask if she needed anything. She had thanked him and silently got into her PJ's.

"Huh," she said while looking in the fridge. Steve looked over at her from where he sat in the living room, tearing himself away from the last football game of the season. She hadn't said much so Steve felt curious. She was definitely different than her brother.

"What?" he asked, watching her scan the shelves.

"Well, I'm just used to there being more beer than food in here," she explained, settling on an orange, then shutting the door. His brows raised at her, the game long forgotten.