El and Will were clearly exhausted, huddled together on one of the couches, barely awake as Owens' people dealt with the clear up. Joyce had fed them candy bars already, but that clearly hadn't helped with the fatigue. Steve wasn't much better, but there was no way in hell he was letting on while the government were still in his home. He hadn't trusted them before, now he wanted them gone as soon as possible. 

"You better make sure that madman is thrown in the deepest darkest hole," Hopper growled at Owens, "because if I ever meet him, I am putting a bullet between his eyes."

"The Colonel will not be bothering you again. He has overstepped his authority and will be dealt with accordingly," Owens promised. "We should really get everyone checked out."

The man was mostly looking at Will and El and every protective instinct in Steve fired. Luckily, he wasn't the only one as both Hopper and Joyce stepped between Owens and their children.

"We've got it covered," Hopper said in a tone that was somewhere around absolute zero.

"They have both been through a great deal of stress," Owens pointed out. "After what happened to El during the Starcourt incident I am only concerned for their..."

"Doctor Owens," Steve watched his mom step in, "a moment of your time, outside."

She pointed towards the front door. The flicker of anxiety across the man's face was something to behold and Steve didn't even feel guilty for enjoying it.

"She'll kill us all," he heard a voice snarl from the direction of the pool room.

He turned, just in time to see Colonel Sullivan stagger into the living room holding a gun. There was blood dripping down the man's face from a cut above his eyebrow and his uniform was torn, as if he had been in a nasty fight. His face was also twisted with rage.

Steve was shocked when Owens stepped between the colonel and El and Will. He had his arms up in a placating gesture.

"Jack," Owens said in a calm even voice, "it's over. Put the gun down and we can talk about this."

"You're putting the world in danger," Sullivan snarled.

"No, Jack," Owens said, placating, "Eleven was never the danger. She destroyed Henry Creel, One, he was always the danger. He was the killer."

"They're all killers," Sullivan said, "and she's infected another one."

"That's not how it works, Jack," Owens replied. "It's not an infection..."

"Traitor," Sullivan snarled.

The shot was devastatingly loud, and Owens stepped backwards looking shocked, stumbling as blood bloomed from the side of his head. Steve reacted without thinking, hand shooting out as Sullivan focused back on El. The gun fired a second time, but the bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling as Steve ripped it from the man's hand. It flew through the air, smacking into his palm.

Sullivan had about a second to look scared, before Eddie leapt over the couch with preternatural speed, taking him down with a snarl. The colonel didn't stand a chance when faced with a very angry vampire.

Steve had no time to celebrate, however, as the world lurched. He fell to his knees, stomach twisting. The gun was very much bigger than a ball bearing and he had moved it a great deal further. His system made him pay. It was only through sheer force of will he didn't puke messily all over his mother's plush rug. Deep shuddering breaths were about all he was capable of.

"Oh shit," Robin said, on her knees beside him almost instantly.

Her hand on his back was about the only thing not spinning.

"Steve!" El's desperate cry had him looking up, trying to focus.

There was two of everything, moving alarmingly, but he could make out El leaning over the fallen Owens. He could feel her panic through the remnants of the connection they had yet to completely let go. He could also sense what she could.

"Get me over there," he forced out through gritted teeth.

"Steve, you can't," Robin tried to tell him.

"He's dying," he insisted, doing his best to lurch to his feet on his own.

"Fuck. Steve this is bad," Robin said, but moved to help him anyway.

He fell back to his knees next to Owens, dropping the gun that was still in his hand. The man's eyes were open and glassy, the thread of his life almost gone where the bullet had passed right through his temple. Steve knew his tanks were almost empty, but he had to try. Owens had put himself between a bullet and El, that deserved at least a chance and had moved the man from reluctant ally to friend in his head.

Reaching out, he placed his hands either side of Owens' face and he pushed. He let the real world go and he smashed through that invisible barrier with everything he had left. What he found was devastation where the bullet had ripped through Owens' brain. As his instincts fired, he did the same as he had done for Nancy, holding the man to the flicker of life that remained, as he began to put everything back together.

The voice of warning in his mind was silenced by his overwhelming need. Any limit he had found before was rediscovered and passed as he did what he had to do. The deeper he went, the more unacceptable failure became. There was no halfway with this, it was all or nothing. It was as if his power had a mind of its own and it was in control now. It flooded through Owens' body, healing all it touched as Steve gave everything he had left.

He was so close to the edge, the energy in his mind's eye grey and almost transparent. There was still much to do, but he had nothing left. That's when he felt them, El and Will. His core flared as they shared their own power with him. They had little left either, the food they had consumed barely refuelling them at all, but it was more than he did now, and he could not stop. He could not let Owens go, he had to follow it to the end.

There was no lurching awakening this time, not a gentle one either. Eventually everything simply went black.

~*~

He was warm, comfortable and someone was running their fingers through his hair. For a while Steve let himself enjoy it. Eventually, however, he began to wake up properly. He realised he was lying on one of the couches in the living room, curled on his side, covered in a blanket, with his head pillowed on someone's lap. Someone familiar, but his brain was in no state to work out who. There was also something uncomfortable about the back of his left hand.

His thoughts were a bit slow to begin with, so he lay there with his eyes slightly open, just waiting for the restart of his brain to finish. It was Dustin who noticed he was no longer asleep, because of course it was.

"Steve," Dustin asked, much quieter than normal, "are you awake?"

"Kinda trying to figure that out," he replied and was pleased it made sense even if it was rather slurred.

Dustin gave him a grin.

"Hey, Dingus," Robin said, hence identifying who he had been sleeping on, "how are you feeling."

He did her the service of actually thinking about that for a few moments. Not that doing so made anything clearer.

"Fuzzy," he replied eventually, as he searched him brain for some sort of explanation.

His thoughts were like molasses.

"What happened?" he asked, because he couldn't remember how he had ended up where he was.

"You were a self-sacrificial idiot," Robin said, but kept on running her fingers through his hair, so he was pretty sure she wasn't that mad at him.

He tried hard to recall what had happened.

"Don't remember," he admitted.

"You pulled off a miracle."

That was Eddie's voice, but it was coming from somewhere behind and to his left and he couldn't summon up the energy to move.

"Owens," Robin said, and it all came flooding back.

His nice quiet brain was suddenly very full of nightmare images. Sullivan, the gun, Owens, it all flashed through his head.

"Woah, it's okay, sssh," Robin's voice cut through his sudden panic, and he realised the desperate whine he could hear was coming from him.

Eddie appeared in front of him, crouching right down so they were almost nose to nose, one hand gently touching the side of his face, the other holding something up.

"It's over," Eddie said, firmly and calmly, "just breathe for us, sweetheart."

He did his best, but it was hard as the overwhelming memories flashed through his head. He couldn't put things in the little box at the back of his mind to think about later as it all hit him at the same time. Eddie was still talking to him, so was Robin, but it was hard to focus.

"Steve, darling, you need to breathe."

His mother's voice broke through the confusing panic. He took a huge shuddering breath as basic familial instinct kicked in. Pushing through the mess in his head, he forced himself to open his eyes where he hadn't even really been aware he had closed them. His mom was crouching in front of him right next to Eddie. He reached out, needing to confirm what his eyes were seeing.

He was not expecting his mother to shy away from his touch.

"Mom?" he gasped out, even as his mother looked utterly torn.

"I'm sorry, darling," his mom said quickly, "I can't let you touch me. After you passed out, you reacted very badly to anyone touching you that you hadn't healed before," she told him before he could panic again.

"We think you couldn't shut down your healing, so you were trying to heal everyone of everything with nothing left in the tank," Eddie added, "but your instincts recognised you didn't need to with those of us you already fixed."

"It's why you're still on the couch and not somewhere more comfortable," Robin told him, still gently playing with his hair. "We didn't want to risk moving you far."

"El and Will?" he asked, because he definitely remembered what they had done at the end.

"Sleeping soundly in mine and your father's room," his mom told him.

"Doctor Owens?" was his next question.

"Perfectly healthy and very grateful," said a familiar voice from somewhere to the left.

Owens was standing there, blood on his collar and in his hair, but otherwise whole. Steve wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry as he completely failed to process that properly. Rather than react at all he let his gaze drop down to the hand he had tried to reach out to his mother with. It was only then he noticed there was something taped to the back of it.

"Glucose solution," Robin said as he frowned at it, following the tube to a bag Eddie was holding.

At least that made sense. Not a lot else did. The panic attack, no matter how brief had robbed him of whatever energy he had recouped.

"Tired," he mumbled.

"Go back to sleep, darling," his mom told him with a small smile. "I'll make sure everyone is fine for you until you wake up."

His mom knew him so well. Letting his eyes fall closed, he felt the real-world slip away, but far more gently this time. He dreamed of a warm day out by the lake, lying in the sun and relaxing, watching the water ripple, with Robin and Eddie by his side. He thought everyone else might have been there too, but he couldn't see them, just sensing that they were around. It was peaceful.