tw: mention of the r-slur; nothing derogatory

"WAIT, SO YOU'RE TELLING ME all that stuff from last year happened again?"

It was odd how quickly things could alter within the span of a few days, how Amara's identity could shift from nobody to crowbar-wielding babysitter and back so rapidly. Except she wasn't exactly a nonentity anymore; word of Steve and Billy's skirmish had circulated throughout school, and her involvement was enough to earn her stares from peers who wouldn't have paid her any mind beforehand. As in all rumors, Amara was sure that none of them reached the truth of Steve holding off Billy to protect a bunch of middle-schoolers and her stepping in when Steve lost the ability to fight back. But whatever the stories were, whatever people thought of her now, she tuned it all out. She wasn't about to take crap from individuals who had only learned of her existence today.

Robin had been bemused as to why everyone was staring at the two of them as they made their way down the halls, and her first conclusion was that the school had figured out that she was gay. Amara had already been prepared to tell Robin about the resurgence of the supernatural world, and assured her best friend that the attention was most likely reserved for her. Now they were back in their little corner of the cafeteria, Robin having skipped extra band practice in all her curiosity to learn why Amara was earning so many looks.

"Yeah, it did," Amara responded in a hushed whisper. "And hopefully that was the last time. The gate to the other dimension is closed now."

"That's good, that's really good," Robin shrugged her shoulders, but it was clear that she was more interested in the newfound attention Amara was receiving than the details of how everything from a year ago had come back. Amara was grateful for that – she could only explain the Upside Down so many times. "I just don't get why everyone's staring at you now." Her eyes widened as she deciphered a possible explanation. "Wait, you don't think – "

"No, I don't think they found out about that," Amara kept her voice low. As if on cue, Steve entered the cafeteria on his own and all eyes were drawn to him and his battered face, concealed the best he could with sunglasses. He was quick to grab a lunch tray and exit but not without shooting Amara a smile, one she returned. "You know that new kid Billy?"

"You mean that asshole from California who basically became the new King of school in a week?" Robin queried. It was nice to know that Robin wasn't enamored by the charming façade Billy painted for all the girls to see, but she already had better taste than most girls.

"Yeah, that one," Amara confirmed. "One of the kids involved in all of this happened to be his stepsister, and he tracked us down while searching for her. Steve had to fight Billy off after he attacked another kid, Lucas, since apparently he's a racist, but Billy knocked Steve out so I hit him with my crowbar and his stepsister sedated him."

"Damn, you're such a badass," Robin laughed. She appeared to be one of the only people who thought that; Billy hadn't shown up to school that day despite winning their scuffle and was being upheld as some sort of martyr. From the whispers Amara had heard, the majority of the school's population believed their brawl to have been Steve's last-ditch effort to hold onto his status as the King of Hawkins High. Nobody could have imagined that Steve had fought off Billy in an act of selflessness, or that Billy was a raging psychopath. As for what everyone assumed Amara's role in their dispute to have been, she didn't give a damn. "I'm guessing they don't know that, though."

"They probably don't, and to be honest I don't care what they think," Amara voiced thoughtfully. "For so long I thought that I was the one who needed to change, but I don't, not when there are enough people who value me. It's the same with all of this – nobody knows the full truth of what happened Saturday night and they never will, but the kids know I was protecting them and that's what matters. I can't keep waiting on the world to realize that I matter just as much as anyone else. I only need a few people who love me and I'm good to go."

The world would always be more difficult for people who didn't fit the mold of being white and straight and non-disordered, people that white, straight, non-disordered individuals found easier to cast aside than make feel welcomed. But Amara didn't need to be a hero to prove that she was more than just a girl diagnosed with what others believed should land her a permanent spot at Pennhurst Mental Hospital. It was upon others to look past the stereotypes society depicted her to be and discover that she was just as human as anyone else.

"I'm proud of you, 'Mara," Robin beamed. At multiple points throughout her life, Robin had also felt as though she had no place in a homophobic and bigoted world, so it warmed her heart to know that her best friend was finally becoming more confident after years of repressing her existence. "You should be, too."

"I am," Amara replied, and she meant it wholeheartedly. "I really am."

IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG for word of Barb's death to become public, mostly because Nancy and Jonathan had altered the story of her demise to be credible enough to gain traction. Within time, the entire town, and soon the entire country learned that Barbara Holland had died from a chemical asphyxiant that had leaked from Hawkins Lab, which when coupled with the widespread decaying of crops was sufficient for the townspeople of Hawkins to pressure the Department of Energy to admit culpability. While it wasn't the full truth, Jonathan and Nancy's recording had retained the most important details of Barb dying and the lab being responsible for it, which had been enough to shut down the lab for good.

The news of Barb's death shattered the sense of security residents of Hawkins had grown accustomed to from living in what was once regarded to be one of the safest towns in America, but it was too late for them. Amara had understood that Hawkins was anything but safe for a year now.

Despite having not known Barb personally, Nancy invited Amara to attend the funeral being held for her in late November. The service was a fairly subdued affair, with only Barb's closest friends and family attending. It almost felt wrong for Amara to be present when she had never interacted with Barb, but she had felt the same way at Will's funeral. Only this time Barb wasn't coming back – they'd known that for a year now. But her parents hadn't learned of her death until the news report. According to Nancy, they'd held out hope that their daughter was still out there, and it had wracked her with guilt to lie to them when she knew the truth all along. Amara hoped that Barb's parents would find closure amid the institution that covered up their daughter's death finally being held accountable.

After Bob Newby's subsequent funeral, Amara felt as though she could actually begin healing. She was positive that she would never be able to rid her mind of the Demodogs or the tunnels or even Billy's sadistic smile, but she didn't want to forget any of it. She didn't want to forget that supernatural forces once plagued Hawkins even if they were no longer a present threat, that she'd nearly died several times, that it had taken the world nearly ending twice for her to realize that she was worth something. So Amara spent more time in the company of those who had been through the same experiences as her; studying with Nancy from time to time, driving as much of the Party as she could fit into her Honda to the arcade while one unlucky member had to bike (where they would coerce her to stay there for two hours rather than go home and pick them up later), and being a friend to Steve as he navigated his life without Nancy in it. She fretted that she was abandoning Robin, but her best friend reassured her that she was happy for her and her new friendships.

One weekend in early December, Amara and Dustin did as they had promised and compelled Steve into watching the entire Star Wars trilogy. And he liked it, far more than he imagined he would. The lightsaber battles and every time Luke Skywalker or Darth Vader used the Force and the princess Amara had dressed up as for Halloween, it was all new and fascinating to him. Return of the Jedi had to be his favorite of the three, mostly because it was the one where the good guys won and defeated the Empire for good, but Amara's favorite was The Empire Strikes Back because it proved that the good guys weren't invincible.

"I mean, I can see why you compared me to Han Solo," Steve commented to Dustin as he popped the tape from the VHS player. Nightfall had arrived by now: the complete trilogy was six hours long.

"Why, 'cause you're both showoffs who love the ladies?" Dustin retorted, causing Amara to giggle. Steve scowled at her and she shrugged as if to say, 'he has a point.'

"Or maybe because we're both brave and good-looking, that has to be it," Steve inferred, tossing a piece of popcorn in Dustin's direction while he was placing the VHS tape on the shelf alongside the others. It hit its target, prompting Dustin to let out a battle cry and commence an imaginary lightsaber battle with Steve. Amara could only shake her head in amusement as she watched the two of them, heading over to the phone to order dinner for them.

Initially, it had been challenging for Steve to adapt to his status as the fallen King of Hawkins High, especially because it had only taken a week for Billy Hargrove to assume his position. Girls who had previously fawned over him were now flocking to Billy in droves, oblivious to his psychotic tendencies, and he was almost certain that he wouldn't be named prom king this year. But what did being popular matter? It was easy to envy Billy's standing from the outside, but he had to prompt himself that he hadn't been satisfied when he was in that position. He was far happier now, with a bunch of middle-schoolers for friends and the freedom to explore fields of interest he'd previously balked at. And of course, there was Amara, who made him laugh until his ribs ached and more than made up for the loss of Nancy in his life – and not because she replaced Nancy. She was a reminder that good friends were worth far more than longing stares and yearbook awards.

As for Amara, she was in a far better place than she had been a month ago. Even if she still occasionally struggled to accept herself she was now surrounded by people who valued her even if they didn't know of her diagnosis. Nancy and Jonathan were enjoying the honeymoon stage of their relationship but she felt as though she was better friends with them than before, especially now that she had also formed bonds with their younger siblings. The kids were just as endearing as they were mischievous, with Will going so far as to draw her for one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns (she was their Guardian, he gushed, and flourishing a crowbar against what resembled a cross between a Demodog and Billy). And despite the fact that she had told him she was no longer going through an identity crisis, Steve periodically checked in to ensure that she was alright.

Maybe Kevin was right. Maybe Amara didn't need to tell others about her autism in order to be friends with them.

However, in spite of her better judgment, she chose to take a leap on the 15th of December. And it paid off.

ON THE NIGHT OF THE SNOWBALL, the sky was scintillating with stars as Steve came to a halt in front of Hawkins Middle. He had offered to be Dustin's ride, and was pleasantly surprised at how his hair had turned out; it was his first attempt with Farrah Fawcett spray, and he'd done a far better job than Steve had when he'd first tried out the product, although that might have been because he'd sprayed his hair a few too many times.

"All, right, buddy, here we are," Steve informed an apprehensive Dustin as he put the car in park. "So, remember, once you get in there... "

"Pretend like I don't care," Dustin finished, nodding at Steve. He'd watched Max and Lucas grow closer over the past month to his dismay and had come to terms with the fact that he had no chance with her, and the Snowball presented an opportunity to meet someone new. He figured that Steve's advice worked better in this scenario, but he was going to go with Amara's arguably better guidance if Steve's didn't help him.

"You don't care."

"I don't care."

"There you go," Steve chirped. "You're learning, my friend. You're learning."

Unfortunately, no amount of pretending he didn't care could take away the notion that Dustin cared a little bit too much. What if a piece of hair was out of place? Or what if he'd overdone the whole look? He reached up to adjust the overhead mirror as if he hadn't been peeking at his reflection for the past fifteen minutes but Steve stopped him with a gentle grip of his wrist.

"Come on. You look great, okay?" Steve reassured Dustin, adjusting the mirror back into place as he looked at the boy who had become something of a younger bother to him. "You look... you look great. Okay? Now you're gonna go in there... "

"Yeah."

"Look like a million bucks," Steve continued.

"Yeah!" Dustin repeated, grinning as his confidence rose.

"And you're gonna slay 'em dead," Steve concluded matter-of-factly.

"Like a lion," Dustin added in reference to their conversation on the train tracks a month ago. He emitted his signature purr as if trying to hold onto some semblance of himself, but Steve's wince signified to him that it was far from the best strategy for winning over a girl.

"Yeah, don't do that okay?" Steve advised as carefully as possible.

"Okay," Dustin whispered. Steve offered his hand in support and Dustin shook it, and with a final 'good luck,' Dustin exited the car with puffed-out cheeks. Steve could only watch as he strode through the doors with renewed confidence, reminding him of how nervous he'd been the night of his first Snowball, years before he became King Steve. Only he didn't have someone to coach him through his anxiety: his father had merely dropped him off before departing for a business event.

Steve hesitated before commencing the drive to where he intended to be for the next two hours until he had to pick Dustin up. The aforementioned boy was conversing with Mr. Clarke, the science teacher Steve had secretly looked forward to having classes with, but his eyes were naturally drawn to where Nancy was serving punch to middle-schoolers in the gym. Her pretty face was framed by permed curls and amplified by that warm smile that still rendered him weak in the knees a month after their breakup.

Steve could never make Nancy smile like that. This whole time he thought he needed her but in truth, all he needed was for her to convince him to become a better person. He didn't regret his relationship with her or giving up his toxic friends, but he admitted they were better off separate. After all, she had been the one to take charge and get revenge on the lab for murdering her best friend while Steve had been too fearful to do anything other than try and fail to move on. Letting go of a girl who had never truly reciprocated his feelings was the best thing he could do for himself and her.

He'd be okay, he told himself as he drove off into the night. He'd be okay.

Most of the houses on Cornwallis were embellished with Christmas decorations or the occasional menorah. At some point in the past month, Amara had mentioned to Steve that her dad's side of the family was Jewish, her grandparents having fled Nazi Germany in the late 1930s. He could almost picture her house decked with both Christmas lights and hexagrams, the only dwelling on the street without a white picket fence.

He soon arrived at Lover's Lake and stepped out of his BMW, attiring himself in a coat for warmth. Contrary to the last time he had been there, when he had coaxed Amara into informing him of her identity crisis, it was completely dark outside. The lake, which appeared murky during the daytime, was dappled with starlight and was the most beautiful spectacle he'd ever seen.

She was already there, perched on the hood of her dingy Honda with an oil lamp in hand. He reached into the pocket of his jeans as he joined her, handing her ten dollars in exchange for the food she'd bought for both of them. She pocketed the money with a grateful smile and Steve felt his heart rate increase; maybe it was the absence of light, but Amara almost looked like Nancy at that moment. Both had pale faces outlined by dark tresses and stood at a similar height. They also had a lot in common – a hard work ethic, determination, and a deep love for their family and friends.

But they also had their differences. Nancy's budding interest in journalism stemmed from her proficiency in English, while Amara could calculate how much change someone owed her in an instant. Nancy also chose to deal with her problems by tackling them head on rather than attempting to outrun them, and Amara had a level of empathy that far surpassed Nancy's.

"Thanks," Amara murmured, motioning for him to join her on the hood of her car, which he gladly complied to. "So, did Dustin try out the Farrah Fawcett spray?"

"Yeah, and he actually did a pretty good job," Steve relayed, his voice slightly muffled from a bite of his club sandwich. "He almost looked like a mini-me."

"Let's just hope he doesn't become a mini-you," Amara quipped, tearing open a packet of ketchup and drizzling it over her fries. "The world doesn't need another Steve Harrington."

Steve placed a hand to his heart in mock offense. "Jeez, Amara. Way to ruin a man's ego."

"That was the intention," Amara stated with a grin, but she noticed something off about Steve's countenance. The past month of their friendship had been one of healing and rejuvenation after everything they'd been through together, but every now and then he would stare off into the distance as though there was something missing from his life. It didn't take a genius for Amara to understand how much he missed Nancy even if he had been the one to let her go.

"Are you okay?" Amara inquired. Following the supernatural events of the previous month, the two of them had made a pact that every time one of them asked if the other was okay, the other would reply honestly. There were far too many people who misinterpreted an 'I'm fine' to be the truth, so Amara and Steve only told each other that they felt fine when it was actually the truth.

"I don't know," Steve responded, gazing to where the moon rippled in a beam upon the surface of the lake. "I saw Nancy when I dropped Henderson off and it just reminded me of how much I miss her. And I'm trying to move on, I really am. But I keep wondering if things could've worked out for us if I'd done something different."

"I get how you feel," Amara told him, her eyes soft. "It's almost like grief – my Grandma died in a car crash two years ago when she was going to visit us, and my dad felt awful. He talked to her on the phone the same day she died, and he wished he'd told her to stay home, or that we'd made plans to visit her instead, but there's no point. She was dead and there was no way to bring her back. I get that it might feel different for you because Nancy's still alive, but I don't think your relationship with her was the healthiest. I think... I think you two were bound to break up at some point."

Amara had a knack for speaking the ugly truth, but Steve meant it when he said he preferred that over sugarcoating. Sugarcoating gave him false hope that quickly evaporated when he came to terms with reality, whereas blunt honesty induced a nasty feeling in his stomach that left him feeling far better once it faded.

"I know," Steve mumbled, consuming more of his sandwich. "I just wish I'd realized she didn't love me earlier on, then maybe she could've been with Jonathan earlier on and I'd be moved on from her at this point."

"Or maybe you still wouldn't know now," Amara brought up. "For every situation where you wish something had happened earlier, there's a scenario where it could've also occurred later. At least this way you'll be able to move on from her quicker than if you'd found out she didn't love you today."

"Yeah, you're right," Steve decided. "It's just, my dad cheats on my mom and for so long I've been worried I'd turn out like him that it was easier to just fool around with girls. I might have led a lot of them on or made them feel special when I wasn't interested in any of them, but to me, it was better than cheating. And then I met Nancy and I actually thought it would be different this time but it wasn't. I was still a jerk when we started dating, so maybe we really were doomed from the start."

"I'm really sorry," Amara gasped, unsure of what else to say. She was aware that her parents represented a healthy relationship that was at odds with those of her friends'; Nancy's parents portrayed the ideal happy suburban couple in a large house with a white picket fence, but the aforementioned girl had mentioned that her parents had only ever been comfortable together; Joyce had more love in her bones for one person than most parents did, but her husband had walked out on her and the first man to genuinely respect her had been slaughtered only a month ago; and then there was Steve, whose father philandered on his mother and left her with just enough money to purchase cheap booze for those nights alone.

"It's okay. I didn't come here to moan about my parents or ex," Steve pointed out. "So, what's new with you?"

Amara took Steve's response as a cue to change the subject and replied, "Not much. There's this new book coming out soon, Ender's Game, and it sounds really interesting. I'll have to get it when it comes out in a month. And a few days ago my mom suggested that I get a job this summer since I got really bored last summer when I ran out of things to do."

"Well, you'll have to let me know where you end up working," Steve said. "I'll probably have to get a job as well, given that I'm not making it to college next year."

Amara didn't want to lie to Steve and tell him there was a possibility he'd still get accepted into a college. She was one of the few people he relied upon not to give him false hope, and taking that away from him would render her feeling guilty. "I'll make sure of it," she promised him.

Sometime later the atmosphere became too frigid for them to withstand, so they took residence inside Steve's car (Amara had offered hers but Steve mentioned that his had better heating – he apologized a second later for implicitly remarking that his family was wealthier than hers, which she graciously accepted). Steve turned on the radio as they warmed their hands in front of the vents, his eyes lighting up when he recognized the song playing.

"This is my favorite song if you couldn't tell," he commented with a toothy grin.

"Dancing in the Dark by Springsteen?" Amara mused. "I can see that. What other bands do you like?"

"Queen, Tears for Fears, and Duran Duran, definitely," Steve revealed, all bands Amara had imagined to be among his favorites. "You have a favorite song?"

"That's a hard question," Amara muttered. She liked Queen enough, but her brother was the real Queen fan. And she loved Rush, but there was one particular song that meant a lot to her. "It would probably have to be Landslide by Fleetwood Mac."

"Huh," Steve spoke. "I didn't expect you to be a Fleetwood Mac fan."

"Well, what did you think I liked?"

"Definitely not Madonna or Cindy Lauper," Steve answered, earning a laugh from Amara. "I know you like Billy Joel though. I've heard you humming to him during study hall."

"Yeah, he's great," Amara smiled. "I also like Rush and Eurythmics, but Fleetwood Mac has always been my favorite. My mom bought Rumours when I was nine, but I loved it so much that she let me keep it. It was the first record I'd ever owned."

(Later that night, Steve would rummage through his mother's old records until he found Fleetwood Mac's 1975 album to understand why Amara loved Landslide. And though he would refuse to admit it, he cried while listening to it)

By now Bruce Springsteen had bled into U2 and there was a question on Steve's mind that had been burning away for the past month. He'd been tempted to bring it up multiple times but stopped himself every instance, anxious that Amara would turn away from him. But she was quirky and brilliant and a part of him was curious to know why she thought he would have wanted nothing to do with her two years ago.

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking," the tentativeness of Steve's tone caught Amara off guard. He took note of her expression but decided it was best to rip the plaster off. "Why did you think I wouldn't have wanted to be friends with you?"

Amara should have been expecting Steve to ask her that, but she wasn't prepared to give him a coherent answer. Steve knew she was a nerd, knew that she'd been bullied for years, but it drove so much deeper than that. The only person she had told of her autism was Robin, and that was because she also risked becoming a pariah if Hawkins learned of her sexuality. Sure, Steve might have dubbed others the same demeaning terms Amara had been used to hearing all her life, but he was also the only person other than Robin to figure out that something was wrong a month ago. On top of that, he didn't seem to mind her blunt honesty or propensity to monologue, which annoyed even her family. Could she tell him and risk him deserting her?

Steve had read her silence as an indication that he should have kept his mouth shut. "Shit, I shouldn't have asked that. Can we just forget I said that?"

"No, it's fine," Amara answered firmly, deciding she was ready. If there was anyone she trusted who would accept her, it was Steve. "Just, please promise me you won't think any differently of me."

"Why would I think differently of you?" Steve questioned, not having a firm grasp of Amara's trepidation. "Unless you're like a murderer or something, which I hope you aren't – "

"Promise me, Steve."

"Okay," Steve conceded, understanding that Amara needed him to be a friend to her more than anything else. "I promise."

"Well, here goes nothing," Amara drew in a breath and screwed her eyes shut. Telling Robin had been so easy, but when she'd first encountered Steve he was the epitome of the bully she had feared in Cleveland. But that was the past – this Steve was worlds different from the one she'd met a year ago. This Steve had actually shown admiration for what she deemed to be her worst flaws. "When I was a baby, it didn't take long for my parents to realize that I was different. I wouldn't make much eye contact or respond to my name, and I couldn't even speak until I was two. Around that time, my parents brought me to a neuropsychologist, who diagnosed me with autism."

"Autism?" Steve repeated the word, having never heard it before in his life. "What's that?"

"It's a neurological disorder," Amara explained. She was still nervous, but grateful that Steve hadn't shown any sign of distaste towards her. "It affects the way I process information and such." When Steve still appeared puzzled, Amara came to the conclusion that he didn't understand what she meant because no heckler had ever referred to her by that term specifically. "You're probably more familiar with the word retarded."

"Oh," Steve blanched, because he was familiar with that phrase. He'd called people that before almost too intrinsically alongside Tommy H., and now sitting beside him was a victim of such bullying. "Well, if it helps, I haven't called anyone that in more than a year."

"That's progress," Amara made sure to tell Steve, who seemed curious to learn more about her diagnosis. "Growing up, nobody knew what to do with me. I was expelled from four schools because I couldn't fit in and none of the teachers wanted to deal with me. And, of course, I was bullied by anyone who couldn't stand the idea of anyone remotely different. It got so bad at one point that my mom filed a lawsuit against the school board, but it failed because nobody wanted to side with the mom of a child everyone thought had schizophrenia. After I graduated middle school, none of the high schools in Cleveland accepted me so we moved here. But I knew it wouldn't be any different here, so I decided to become invisible."

"So, when you said you were a nobody," Steve thought back to their conversation by Lover's Lake last month, "it's because you chose to be one?"

"People can't bully you if they don't know you exist," Amara reasoned almost too casually. "My mom thought things might be different here, told me I was thinking in 'black and white' but she doesn't know what it's like to be me. She doesn't know what it's like to be told constantly that you belong in an asylum, or that you'll inevitably kill someone. And yes, I felt lonely at times, but to me anything was better than being bullied again."

Steve felt a growing pit of resentment in his stomach. For two years he had ruled the school as though it was his biggest accomplishment, all while Amara had been silently struggling to make it through high school without being ostracized again. For more than a year he hadn't known of her existence because she made sure of it. Maybe she was right that he would have ridiculed her, or at least stood on the sidelines while Tommy threw all the insults. Maybe he was no better than anyone else who had heckled her all her life.

"Do you remember when I told you about Ashton?" Amara asked.

"You mean the guy who kissed you because of a dare?" Steve recalled, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

"Yeah, I didn't tell you the full story," Amara confessed, fidgeting with the rings adorning her fingers. "I actually didn't know him until he kissed me. I was reading Mockingbird in the park one day when he walked up to me and kissed me out of nowhere. I was stupidly convinced that he liked me and I chased after him for a month, until one of his friends told me that he was dared to 'kiss the schizo down the street' and that I needed to wake up to the fact that he never liked me. The worst part was that Ashton caved to the dare when he was offered five dollars. Guess he was really desperate for a new Atari or something."

"Damn, now I really want to beat him up," Steve breathed, still processing everything Amara had conveyed to him in the past few minutes. It was so much more profound than how jocks would make fun of nerds and loners as if they were above them: the trauma Amara had endured was due to people ridiculing her for the very essence of who she was.

"Don't worry, my brother took care of that," Amara reassured Steve, thinking back to how Kevin would always stand up for her. "Our parents didn't even stop him, they just told him not to do it again. But even with all the bullying, I'm grateful that my family decided to take a chance on me. My maternal grandmother isn't fond of me, though. I overheard her tell my mom I was a curse from her marrying a Jew."

"I'm sorry about that. My grandmother doesn't like me all that much either, though that's probably my fault," Steve consoled Amara. When she was in the midst of a crisis, Eurydice would always offer her emotional support should she need it while Scott tried to cheer her up by way of humor. Steve's method was almost a hybrid of the two. "Does anyone else know? About your autism?"

"Only my friend Robin," Amara relayed, careful not to mention the rationale for why her best friend had been so accepting of her diagnosis. "We became friends in the middle of my freshman year and she didn't care about it. She was the first person to ever learn about my autism and actually accept me. She was probably my first real friend. I only started making more friends after I became involved in all the Upside Down drama."

"How did you get involved?" was Steve's next question. "I don't think I ever asked."

"I saw the Demogorgon in the middle of the road when I was biking home from Robin's," Amara admitted. "Any normal person would've brushed it off, but I'm not exactly normal. The next day I went back to search for it, and I ran into Nancy, who was looking for Barb. The rest is history."

"See, there you go," Steve smiled. "If you were normal you wouldn't have helped save the world, and I might be dead. I think... it probably helped that I got to know you before you told me you had autism, that way I can't judge you only based on that. If anyone heckles you here I'll make sure to send them into tomorrow."

"I don't need you to protect me, I just need you to be my friend," Amara beseeched. "That's what my whole identity crisis was about – I was stuck between trying to make new friends and ending up in a situation where everyone here found out about my autism and it became Cleveland all over again, or continuing my whole thing with being invisible even if I felt lonely. I just want friends, that's all I've ever wanted."

"Okay, I'll be your friend," Steve vowed. "But I also promise to beat anyone up if you need me to."

"Screw you and your savior complex."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, admiring the canvas of stars speckled across the surface of Lover's Lake. Much like their conversation there a month ago, the night of the 15th of December fortified their newfound friendship. If Steve still wanted to be friends with Amara after learning that she had a diagnosis she believed to be the cause of her worst flaws, she decided that nothing could tear them apart. After all, it had been an alternate dimension that brought them together in the first place, so perhaps Steve was desensitized to trivial things such as her impulsivity and difficulty grasping social cues.

But it was in fact the opposite; if Amara had flaws that originated from her autism, her greatest strengths also had to come from the same place. Her attention to detail, her tenacity, her remarkable memory – those weren't attributes Steve found in every person. They had to be because of, not in spite of her diagnosis.

Steve hoped that Amara would one day see herself the way he already saw her.

published to quotev: 10/1/22
published to wattpad: 9/7/24

AUTHOR'S NOTE

that's a wrap for season 2! i hope you enjoyed reading this phase of amara's story just as much as i loved writing it. i feel like amara really had a chance to develop this season – people on the spectrum are often made to feel like they are a burden and having people like robin and steve who admire her positive traits is really important to her, especially after being bullied all her life because of her autism. i've probably had this chapter in my mind since i first published enigma and i wanted to end season 2 with amara feeling comfortable enough to tell someone other than robin about her autism. steve was the first person to come to my mind since he also accepts robin for being lesbian, as well as it being a testament to his growth as a character. this has to be my favorite chapter so far :)

love y'all and can't wait to see you next season!

lydia