(the massacre at hawkins lab)

NOVEMBER, 1983

｡･:*˚:✧｡RAYMOND'S SKIN IS prickly with an odd feeling that something's completely wrong. He connects it to his untied shoelaces that he really needs to tie soon so he doesn't forget to do it and trips in front of everyone. He swings his legs back and forth, making sure not to hit the metal of Steve's car, but not showing that he pays attention to it in the first place. There's a cigarette in between his lips that he wastes five minutes trying to light before he finally succeeds.

"Wanna help out a little, Ray?"

He looks up at Carol, who's perched on top of a pile of boxes, with a girl — Brenda, Raymond thinks — by her side. The two are wearing matching smiles.

"No," Raymond confesses. His eyes flicker to Steve, who's standing beside Tommy, arms crossed over his chest, lips bitten raw in restlessness and anxiety.

Steve hasn't spoken to him since last night. Raymond woke up to the sound of Steve's engine running and found his car waiting in front of his house. He didn't even say a word when he opened the door and sat down next to him, only speaking up when his house was out of sight. "Where are we going?"

"The movies."

The movies. It was that simple. And it's just as simple now, with Nancy Wheeler's name decorating the entrance to the theatre in bright red letters, crooked and shaky, but legible, accompanied by the most disgusting little comments and remarks in Tommy's typical style.

The writing was already there when Raymond arrived. Tommy, Branda — shit, or was it Nicole? — and Carol were behind the building, finishing up their next art project. Messy, not even that creative, so fucking lame, but enough for Raymond's stomach to fucking drop. Ray Park sucks Hellfire cock.

"Man, what the fuck did you do?" Steve exclaimed then, walking up to Tommy before Raymond could. "I told you—"

"I couldn't resist!" Tommy defended himself, laughing. The girls were giggling next to him. "Ray doesn't mind it! Tell him, Ray."

He was looking at Raymond, waiting for an answer. Raymond couldn't give him one. He turned on his heel, headed back to the car, but a hand curled around his wrist to stop him from opening the door. "Ray, wait."

Raymond laughed in Steve's face. "Right. Do you even hear yourself?"

"Just stay, please, I didn't know he was— I'll- I'll make him paint over it." Steve looked around, almost helplessly. "Here, I'll pay for it. He'll fix it, just— just stay."

"Are you really letting them do this?" he asked, voice low enough for the others not to hear. "To us? Steve, they're ruining you. You're not you, you're— you're turning into Tommy bloody Hogan!" he hissed out and Steve almost winced at the words, lowering his head, almost in shame.

Steve was lost. He was so utterly lost. Raymond watched as Steve's eyes raked over him, that wild look to them that told him what he needed to know. Steve didn't know how to get out of this.

"Please."

But Steve was family. He was and he would always be. And Raymond never abandoned family, not even when they abandoned him, and he couldn't start now.

So he shuffled over to the hood and hopped on, fiddling with his lighter, and then he watched. He watched Tommy come up to Steve and throw an arm over his shoulders, Steve's eyes still on Raymond's in all the chaos. He watched Steve reluctantly grab a can of paint and shake it for Tommy, hand it over to him when Tommy needed it. He watched Steve chuckle at Tommy's stupid jokes and it's almost like a summary of their entire year with these people. Of Steve's demise.

Eventually, Steve relaxed. He was spraying words onto the wall with the same enjoyment Tommy was displaying, he was commenting on Jonathan Byers and his family, on his poor little brother's disappearance, on Nancy. That's when he sprayed on the first few letters of their next slogan — Byers is a creep — but stained his shirt and let Tommy finish it.

That's how Raymond finds himself here, waiting for his best friend to finish hanging out with his own best friend and to stop being a little shit by ruining someone's property in order to get back at a girl.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck this is?" he asks at some point.

Steve blinks down at him from where he's standing next to Tommy before walking over with a look of innocence and shrugging his shoulders. "We're having fun."

Raymond eyes all the words, all the insults thrown around for their own amusement. "I don't remember this ever being your idea of fun."

"They deserve it."

Eddie Munson? Raymond, too?

"Or you're just showing off to your wonderful friends," Raymond suggests, "by letting them shit all over the people who actually care about you."

"Hey-"

"Hey, Hogan," Raymond calls out, promptly moving to look over Steve's shoulder as to show Steve's no longer a part of the conversation. "Might wanna cover up that apostrophe after Byers, that's bloody embarrassing."

Tommy turns to him with that creepy fucking grin on his face. He licks his lips, eyes narrowed the way that they are whenever Raymond provokes him. "Oh, don't you worry. Not like the creep knows the difference."

But Raymond does. He knows the difference, just like he knows the difference between actual friendship and whatever the fuck this is that Tommy and Carol are trying to make Steve believe they are. He's not sure what they gain, except the boost to their ego when they realise that they've tamed the king, that they keep him on a leash now.

He jumps off the hood and Steve moves out of his way without a word.

"Just give me the can, mate," Raymond insists, brushing past Carol to grab it from him, but Tommy only laughs.

"This one? Sure, go for it." And he proceeds to spray it all over Raymond's hands. The group erupts into a fit of laughter and Raymond's mouth hangs open. When he looks back at Steve for help, Steve's laughing, too, just a little, shrugging it off as if to tell him to loosen up.

Raymond says nothing, only looks down at his untied shoelaces, crisp white and freshly washed, just this morning, that he definitely can't tie with his hands like this. He is so not asking Steve for help now.

There's no opportunity to react appropriately. Before he can do anything, a silhouette appears around the corner, small, yet determined, that well-known wavy ponytail swinging with every step.

"Oh, hey there, princess," Carol calls out.

Tommy actually leaves the can this time and walks past Raymond with a pout. "Uh-oh, she looks upset."

Steve just stands there, hands in his pockets as Nancy Wheeler storms over. Her blue eyes are steel and her cheeks are flame and her clenched fists mean business and she takes Steve's silence the way every rational human would and slaps him.

Gasps erupt left and right and Raymond walks up behind Steve, ready to get in between them, just in case.

"What is wrong with you?" Nancy says. Her voice doesn't tremble. There's a layer to it that wasn't there before, the layer that belongs to those people who've seen shit.

"What is wrong with me?" Steve laughs. "What is wrong with you? I was worried about you." Raymond watches the girl's determination falter, her stance sinking into something embarrassed. "I can't believe that I was actually worried about you."

"What are you talking about?"

Carol bursts into laughter. "Wouldn't lie if I were you. You don't wanna be known as the lying slut now, do you?"

A slut. They called her a slut for sitting next to a male human being, without a single thought about what could have been happening.

Nancy's friend is missing. Barbara Holland, the girl Raymond had a chat with that one night at Steve's, the girl who disappeared then and never showed up again. Nancy's been struggling. She's been looking for her. And what's Steve been doing? He's been too busy making sure he's getting his head far enough up his new friends' asses to notice his girlfriend's problems. Raymond's reached out once or twice. Munson mentioned having talked to her, too, the other day. The only one outside Raymond's circle who's been visibly invested in this whole case is—

"Speak of the devil!" Tommy hollers, pushing past Raymond with a shove to his shoulder to get closer. "Hi!"

Jonathan Byers looks just as dishevelled as Nancy. There's that look to him, too, the lost, wild eyes that have seen stuff and are ready to pounce if provoked. Although Raymond thinks Byers has somehow always had that look, what with his father leaving after earning the title of town drunk, what with the way he was raised. Joyce Byers has that same fire.

Nancy's eyes are on him. She glances back at Steve, swallows. "You came by last night."

Carol barks out a laugh. "Ding, ding, ding! Does she get a prize?"

"Piss off, Carol," Raymond says, and he hates being repetitive, truly. She doesn't seem bothered, and neither does Tommy, who slings an arm around her, a cigarette in his mouth.

"Look," Nancy cuts them off, gentle eyes on Steve, "I don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't like that."

The most basic excuse. The first thing one thinks of when lying. She's not helping her case.

"What, so you just let him into your room to study?"

"Or for another pervy photo session!" Tommy hollers.

"We were just..." And she fucking trails off. She trails off the way people who lie do. People who don't tell the truth because they can't.

"You were just what? Finish that sentence." Steve steps closer to her. His stare is blank, but Raymond sees the clenched fists. He takes a step closer, too, just in case. Steve wouldn't. "Finish the sentence."

There it is again. That silence. Her lips purse, that deep frown already etched into her expression, almost permanently. Her eyes are soft with a unique kind of defeat and, for a second, Raymond really considers his own theory from the other day, about how it could have been something else entirely. But what's so crazy that she can't tell her boyfriend but shares with a random creep instead?

"Go to hell, Nancy." With that, Steve turns away. Raymond watches him go, watches his fists relax and gets his hopes up that maybe, just maybe, this won't be as big of a disaster as he was afraid it would be.

But fucking hell, Jonathan Byers grabs Nancy's arm and whispers something to her, quiet enough so that it's incomprehensible, but loud enough to be noticed. They turn away, too, ready to go, but Raymond notices Steve's fists clench again and he turns back towards them, runs a hand through his hair and lifts his chin up.

There's that look to him, that look that he's learned from Tommy Hogan where he thinks he's above everyone else and he's about to say it out loud. Raymond doesn't get to call out his name before Steve pushes Jonathan's shoulder lightly, just to get his attention.

"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kinda impressed. I always took you for a queer—" What the fuck? "—but I guess you're just a little screwup like your father."

Raymond grabs his shoulder. "Steve—"

"Oh, yeah!" Steve pushes Raymond's arm off and laughs when Jonathan stops walking for a second. Tommy, Carol and Nicole are just laughing at this point. "That house is full of screwups. You know, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. A bunch of screwups in your family! I mean, your mom? I mean, I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother."

"Shut up, Steve!" Nancy warns, holding onto Jonathan to prevent him from reacting.

"Steve, fucking hell!" Raymond spits. He grasps his arm again, but Steve pushes him right off once more.

"Nah, Ray, lemme talk to the man, he should know. I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire—"

That's it. That's all it takes. Raymond has to say, were it him, he'd have crumbled sooner, he'd have turned right around and nailed Steve in the face right after the queer part, but Jonathan Byers is one patient man and he's lasted this long. But now it's done.

Steve stumbles back onto a pile of boxes and old pipes, but recovers quickly enough to tackle Jonathan against the car. Raymond shouts at them to stop, attempts to move, but there are hands on him now and Tommy laughs into his ear, holding him in place. "Get the fuck off!"

"Shut it, fucking fairy. What are you gonna do, huh?" Tommy tightens his grip. "Let the men fight. Fuck him up, Steve!"

He digs his nails into Tommy's arms, but it's pointless. It's fucking pointless because Steve is on the ground now as Jonathan throws punch after punch. Nancy screams when Steve delivers a loud kick to Jonathan's gut and Jonathan drops with an equally loud groan.

All the while, Tommy's laughing into Raymond's ear, shouting, whistling in a disgusting attempt to cheer Steve on. He's amused by this, he and Carol both are, they're having so much fun with their King Steve, their new favourite toy. They've made him into what they want him to be.

And Raymond's so, so stupid because he swings his foot back and kicks Tommy in the shin, breaks free and runs to separate the two guys when Jonathan's punch almost brings Steve to the ground, but when he grabs Steve in an attempt to pull him away, Steve roars out a, "Ray, fuck off!" and elbows him right in the fucking face.

Raymond stumbles back, his back hits a wall, eyes watery, ears ringing. His entire face is buzzing, pulsating, burning, and he can't fucking tell what hurts, exactly. It could be the loose tooth that makes his gums throb when he clamps his mouth shut or the wet feeling to his nose that means it's probably bleeding.

Nicole, Tommy and Carol laugh even harder as Steve grabs Jonathan's collar.

He's theirs now. Raymond sees it in his eyes, in the grin that decorated his face as he punches and punches. There's blood dripping down his lips, but he doesn't seem to mind it. He hits again. And then, he's hit.

Jonathan throws Steve onto the ground and Steve's back hits the concrete with a loud thud.

"Jonathan!" Nancy cries out helplessly as Jonathan climbs on top of Steve, clearly motivated by the sudden advantage, and punches him again. And again and again. "Jonathan, stop! You're gonna hurt him!"

Raymond's ears are still fucking ringing, and the sound is getting louder and louder and fuck, it's not in his head. It's happening.

"Cops!" Tommy says it out loud. He doesn't look nearly as amused as he did before. "Just go, Carol!"

Raymond sees Carol grab Nicole's hand and the two of them start running. He doesn't watch them disappear, instead he turns to the guys and finds Tommy by Jonathan and Steve. Steve's not even moving at this point, barely conscious. There's so much blood.

"He's had enough, man!" Tommy shouts and grabs Jonathan. A police car stops a few metres away and Powell rushes out, followed by Walker and the infamous Callahan. "I said, he's had enough!"

Jonathan pushes him back, pushes back an officer, too. It's Callahan, Raymond notices when the man yelps in pain and covers his face, giving up on calming Jonathan down. He stumbles back, elegant and capable as ever, and pushes Nancy, who falls and slices her arm open with a pained gasp.

"Fuck, fuck, you okay?" Raymond gets ahold of her elbow and eyes her rolled up sleeves, rolls them up even higher to check on her arm and there is indeed a deep cut, oozing more and more blood with each passing second. "Let me just— uh, here, that should—"

He takes a handkerchief from his back pocket and wraps it around her wrist as she cries. Powell manages to tackle Jonathan. Tommy grabs Steve by the shoulders and the two are gone before Raymond can even call out their names. Raymond's fingertips are red from the paint and the blood, Nancy's skin is red, the midnight blue handkerchief is red and Officer Walker grabs him and tugs him away from her, clasping cold metal around his wrists. "Should've run, kid."

Loving Steve Harrington is a risk he will never take again.

🖇️ 🎬 🕷️ 🕸️ 🎸

｡･:*˚:✧｡AS WALKER BASICALLY escorts him to the exit, Raymond sneaks a glance at the boy sitting in one of the chairs with officer Powell beside him, uncuffing him. Caught in the act, Raymond attempts to look away on time and lowers his gaze to his tied shoelaces, but hears the soft chuckle, loud and clear in the silence of the hallway, before Powell mutters something like, "Eyes on me, Constantine," and it's quiet again.

Walker takes off the handcuffs with a warning look that's not at all as intimidating as the poor man probably thinks it is, deep worry swimming in his hazel eyes instead, and lets Raymond walk right out. "Stay out of trouble, yeah?"

Raymond's world is all kinds of upside down today. He's been punched, arrested, released, and now his best friend — the title doesn't feel all that accurate right now — is leaning against the wall of a nearby building, eyes focused on the concrete and hands in his pockets.

"Should've gone home, Harrington, because I'm sure as hell not gonna thank you or your mummy." At the sound of Raymond's voice, Steve jolts. His eyes land on him and he pushes himself off the wall, catching up to Raymond in a matter of a few strides. "Don't wanna have you arrested just because you're next to me, do we?"

Steve grabs his wrist and tugs him back. Raymond twists around with a push to Steve's chest, and has no time to examine the dried blood on his face, the swollen eyes and ripped lip because Steve speaks first.

"Ray, your face—"

"Yeah, that's what I get for trying to be helpful. Nothing you should be worried about, though." Raymond forces a smile. "'Cause you got out. You're safe. All of you guys."

Steve's expression falters, something like hurt dragging it down even further. Raymond can't believe he can see past all the blood and bruised skin. He wishes he didn't know Steve Harrington so well.

"Listen, I'm sorry, alright? Seriously—" And then he places a hand on Raymond's shoulder.

"Don't," Raymond grits out. He doesn't need to push him off, no. Steve backs off on his own, eyes wide and wounded and all sorts of confused, but Raymond couldn't care less, not even if he tried. Because it hurts. It hurts like actual hell, like nothing's ever hurt before because his family is gone. "Don't you fucking touch me when you left me there to save your own ass."

"Ray—"

"What the fuck was that back there, huh? That thing you did?" Raymond cocks his head. "And don't you dare lie. I saw you. You ran and you left me there for them to fucking cuff me."

"Ray, you gotta try and understand, man. My parents—"

"They bailed me out, got it," he spits. "Your mother, to be precise, because she doesn't have your last name. You won't be associated with me. That's fucking low, even for a bloody Harrington." He chokes on his own voice. A few passers-by slow down to hear him, their outburst the only amusing thing in their miserable lives here in Hawkins. This town needs to burn. "You changed. What happened to you? What did they do to you?"

Steve shakes his head and follows Raymond as Raymond pushes through the crowd. "I made a mistake. I know I messed up — big time — and I know you can't understand—"

They're in an alley now. It's crammed and stinky and there are boxes thrown to the side and Raymond can't be in here, but he also can't be near people. Those people who watch and enjoy.

"Understand? Oh, you want me to understand?" Raymond laughs. "I understand it perfectly fine. I understand that you're ashamed. Ever since those two fucking idiots showed up you've been ashamed. Carol and Tommy, they don't like me."

"I don't care!" But Raymond won't buy it.

"You can't be fucking serious. You know I'm right. You know you've been trying to make me normal ever since they found you." He lowers his voice, but he's literally in Steve's face, so he hears him clearly. "They don't give a shit about you, but you don't get it. You keep trying to make them like you and to make them like me and I just— The hook-ups, the drugs, you— you hate the things I do, you act like I don't exist sometimes! That's 'cause you want me gone. 'Cause you don't want them to think you're like me."

"Ray, you don't get what they're like."

"Oh, I think I do. They're snakes." Raymond nods, to further solidify his own statement. "And they're enjoying this. Getting us to fight. It's what they wanted, to have you. You used to act tough to seem like one of them, but now it's just what you are, mate. You're not faking it anymore. And this thing you did today, leaving me there, you did it. Not them."

"Fine!" Steve finalises, the sudden rise of his voice all but making Raymond flinch. "No one made me do shit. It was my idea, Ray. All mine. I didn't wait for you. I left you." And he fucking smiles. It's by no means a smile of true happiness — those are very rare and Raymond remembers how he cherished them whenever they showed up on Steve's face. This one is simply proof of how much Steve's lost his way. Of how proud he's become because he smiles. He smiles and there's blood on his teeth and fury in his eyes and he looks so much like Tommy H. He's one of them now. "Happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Why did you do it?"

He isn't sure why he asks. He isn't sure why he poses a question he already knows the answer to, isn't sure why he wants to hear it, needs to hear it from Steve Harrington himself, to repeat it over and over in his head until he's sick of it and of him and of everything else.

That's probably how one moves on when holding onto something hurts way more than letting it go.

"Because you're sketchy, man." Steve answers and Raymond takes a step back. "I mean, your reputation isn't exactly— you know what I mean. The drugs, the fights, all that shit with Munson? Everyone sees what kind of person you are."

And because he's a fucking idiot, he asks again, "What kind of person is that?"

Steve watches him. He watches, tongue licking the blood off his lips, arms crossed over his chest as though to push himself away before actually doing it, to put up a wall and not let anyone through, to end this one miserable, irrelevant friendship and finally be who he wants to be without Raymond to hold him back. His eyes, eyes that Raymond looked into for comfort, for closure, they're cold now.

Raymond searches for a flicker of that old Steve Harrington, the boy who sat next to him in class and put bandaids on bruises that needed a way bigger intervention, yet cherished the care anyway, the boy who snuck Raymond out when his parents would go scarily quiet and he needed noise, the boy who cried when he was drunk and laughed when he was high and loved and was loved and was family. He's gone.

"You're just like Munson, Ray." Steve says, tone almost exasperated. "I tried to make you understand, man, but you didn't listen. You're swimming in drugs and alcohol and— and you're letting him do this to you. He's ruining you. And don't think I don't realise how you never even glanced at a dude before he showed up." He lifts a finger in the air, as if he somehow had a fucking point to prove. "Yeah, he just came in and made you something that's— that's weird. Unsafe. You're gonna go through so much shit just because of that."

He can't even say it. He can't say the fucking word, but he can sure as hell accuse Eddie of turning him queer, explain how dangerous it is to be queer, how much there is to risk.

Raymond came out to Steve during the summer before their sophomore year. They were sleepy and drunk and the movie was sort of cheesy, but while Steve commented on Rebecca De Mornay, Raymond was torn between her and Tom Cruise, and he sort of announced it to the whole room at some point. Steve was cool with it, said he had already suspected it, but couldn't be sure. So much for being turned queer by Eddie Munson.

Steve never cared. It never bothered him, never even made him imply anything remotely hateful  He only did his best to protect Raymond should someone try to cause harm because of his sexuality. Why does he care now? It's dangerous, it's been dangerous, so why is it such a problem now?

How is Raymond supposed to explain the drug part? He's tried so many times to explain it to Steve, but Steve couldn't understand.

Raymond isn't an addict. He's not serious about it. Drugs are fun. They make him feel good. They make his thoughts swim and his skin tingle and his mind numb and it feels fucking good. He's smoked weed, that's fine. He's tried some real shit. Meth, for example. It's been okay so far, except that one time a few days ago when his dose seemed to be laced with something that Munson would later identify as acid. That's as serious as Raymond's gone and as serious as he's planning on going. Ever.

He doesn't need drugs. They're fun and cool and he is perfectly safe. Most of the time. He trusts Munson.

And Steve saying this bullshit makes no sense because he's supposed to know. He's supposed to get it. He claimed to get it, but he doesn't seem to.

"What are you trying to say?"

Steve shakes his head. "That you're trying to be something you're not, too. You're no better than I am."

Raymond could very well be choking. He's not sure, not entirely. His throat has closed up and his mouth is dry and his chest hurts and he wants to press a palm against it, to make sure the muscle stuck deep in there is still whole, still beating furiously, but he can't, not in front of Steve because Steve can't see.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," he says, voice oddly low, yet somehow weaker than ever.

"You don't get it, Ray." Steve laughs. "Your parents don't care. They brought you here and left to fucking Australia or whatever, and they don't care what you do. Mine don't, either, but you know what they care about? Me not ending up in jail. Me not being a—" Oh, fucking hell, he's not gonna say it, is he? "—a queer and a druggie and a fucking— I don't even know. And I'm not gonna let you drag me into any of it. I can't."

"You done yet?" Raymond raises his voice, finally, because he needs to push harder, to be noisier and shut Steve Harrington up. "Because I really don't wanna hear anything else." He steps forward and pushes a finger into Steve's chest. "You fucked this up. Everything. It's on you. And don't come back crying and begging me to forgive you, 'cause I won't."

He turns on his heel and runs straight into Tommy and Carol, gawking at him like two fucking fish in a tank. Although he promptly slams his shoulder against Tommy's as he walks past them, Tommy doesn't go after him.

Raymond hears Steve talking to them as the distance between them grows.

🖇️ 🎬 🕷️ 🕸️ 🎸

MARCH, 1986

｡･:*˚:✧｡RAYMOND IS A fucking fifth wheel and he hates everything about it.

Turns out, somewhere along the way, Nancy and Robin put quite the distance between themselves and the guys. Then, Eddie and Steve do the same. Raymond could easily join either of the groups, but they just seem to be having extremely interesting conversations and, though he's tempted to interrupt, he assumes that maybe, these people need some time to talk it out. It's not like he's dying or anything.

While Robin and Nancy keep whispering to themselves, with Robin flailing her hands around and Nancy watching her, Steve and Eddie seem to be more serious. Eddie does, at least, because he seems to be the one talking, unsurprisingly. Raymond kind of feels bad for Steve. One has to have a lot of patience to keep up with someone like Eddie Munson, and though he's never considered himself a patient man, Raymond can do it because he's a biased little shit. Steve, on the other hand...

He saved his life.

Without hesitation, in a heartbeat, he stepped in and got rid of those bats for Raymond. For Raymond, who keeps provoking him. For Raymond, who keeps accusing him of being a coward. For Raymond, who's been running away from their broken friendship for years and who would give anything in the world to have it back because it might be too late.

He misses it like crazy. Hanging out at Steve's empty place every Friday evening, putting make-up on Steve when he falls asleep during a movie marathon, unsuccessful attempts at swimming lessons which would end in water fights and nothing learned, the life he'd had back when Carol and Tommy were strangers and Steve Harrington wasn't.

He can't stop thinking about it and he knows why. His time is almost up, he might not be here at this time tomorrow, so the only thing to do is apologise, even if he isn't the only one who said stupid shit.

A loud gasp escapes his lips when thunder rumbles again and the earth begins to tremble. Losing his balance quite quickly, he finds himself with his back pressed against the nearest tree as the violent earthquake shakes him to his very bones. However, the scream that echoes through the forest seems to reach deeper.

He is quick to turn around, quick to run. Against gravity, against the very earth if needed, towards the source of the scream, towards him.

Eddie is on the ground, face contorted in pain and all Raymond can do is fall to his knees in front of him and grab his face. His heart thunders like the sky as he searches for any injury. Fearful eyes, clenched teeth, furrowed brows, but nothing else.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Kinda," Eddie groans, lifts his hand. "I think I twisted my fingers a little when I fell."

He got hurt. Twisted a finger, barely. No spilled brains, no bleeding wounds. And Raymond is in front of him, terrified, holding him like a little child. The earthquake's stopped and Steve is watching. "Told ya."

Raymond lets go of Eddie the second the words leave Steve's lips. "Told him what?" Shrugging, Steve puts on his best smirk and continues walking. Raymond turns to Eddie. "Told you what?"

"Screw him," he breathes out. "Let's just go."

Raymond helps Eddie up, but never lets go of his hand. It's bigger than his own, it's warm and it grounds him. In a strange way, it grounds him.

"I told him he should consider making a move on a certain person here before it's too late," Eddie says when Raymond asks him to explain what he and Steve talked about. His eyes never reach Raymond: instead, they dart around the forest without break as his thumb strokes the back of Raymond's hand. "He, uh... called me a hypocrite."

"And what do you think?" Raymond holds his breath.

"I think he might be right."

Somewhere in front of them, Steve wraps an arm around Nancy. Robin is rambling. The sky is flashing red. They can hear the bats. Yet, Eddie's warmth enveloping him is all Raymond can think about.

That warmth... It's terrifying. It's beautiful. It's all he's ever wanted. All he's ever feared, especially since he's going to lose it. He can't quite bring himself to let go, not when Eddie doesn't.

With its two floors, its neat front yard and spacious rooms, the Wheeler house is all Raymond thought it would be. As soon as they enter, the space is decorated in a way that screams Karen Wheeler, with cute little lamps and paintings and photographs making every corner appear perfectly taken care of. There's a huge chandelier hanging above the dining table. Overall, the house looks like a decent place to live at. Minus the vines and the dust and the darkness of The Upside Down.

Robin seems to agree. "Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler."

Nancy purses her lips, making her button nose stick out more. "Come on." She rushes through the hallway, to the stairs. "I don't want to stay here any
longer than we have to."

Robin follows suit and Eddie shuffles behind them like a confused puppy. Raymond thinks it's adorable how he trips once or twice on his way, until he realises Steve is still by the dinner table, looking around like crazy.

"You good?"

Steve shakes his head. "You hear something?" He sighs. "I swear, I can hear voices."

Raymond chuckles and walks over to him, arms crossed. He rests his back against the nearest wall. "I knew you were crazy, but hearing shit is a bit... concerning."

"Oh, don't talk like you care about my sanity."

Steve says it softly, with no bite to it, in a way that would have Raymond thinking it's something friendly, if he didn't hear the actual words. Yet, they show hurt — the way his voice falters at the very end of the sentence and he turns away, visibly regretting it all. The way his shoulders weigh down on him, carrying the burden of years and years of lost friendships and abandoned chances.

Ray bites his lip. Now or never.

"Listen," he mutters. "What you did back there, with those bats... They would have killed me. Thank you, again."

Steve shakes his head in dismissal. "You thanked me already, dude. It's nothing."

"You saved my life. It's not nothing."

There's a beat of silence in which Steve seems to realise what's actually going on. That this is Raymond, the boy he used to share everything with, he used to consider family. The boy who loved him without condition and reason even when he didn't deserve it. The boy who was loved by him even when he wasn't worthy of any affection. This is Raymond, trying to make it right and fix what's been broken, crushed so many times by him and him alone, because this might be his final chance.

Steve's lips part and his eyes soften and he lets out a breath. "You're welcome. Anytime."

Raymond slides down the wall, allowing himself to hit the ground, legs crossed in front of him. Hesitantly, Steve follows.

"For the record, I don't think you're a shitty friend."

Here it goes. Finally. The bomb has been dropped, the shot has been fired, there is no turning back now. He can see Steve turn his head to look at him fully, but he doesn't meet his gaze. Watching the ceiling is more than perfect right now.

"How come?"

He shrugs, face flushing with a sudden heat. He's not good at this. "I guess I never wanted to consider that people could change. Not everyone, but... you did." He swallows. "You used to be a dick."

"I know." Steve chuckles. "I'm really sorry."

"But you changed. You're all mature now, you got these kids that you care about and all these people you love." He wraps his arms around himself as the storm grows louder. "Carol, Tommy, people like that... they don't change. You're not like them. You were never like them and I should have listened to you."

"Hey—"

"No, let me say this," he stops Steve. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance sooner. I'm sorry for being a bitch about it and I'm sorry I needed you to save my life to realise how wrong I was."

"Hey, hey..." Steve's hand comes to rest on his shoulder. It's cold. Raymond finally turns to look at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I fucked up. I really did. With you, with Nance. The things I said to you. I'll never be able to forgive myself because I don't mean them, I never did, but I said them anyway, to make myself look good, to feel better about it. I hurt people who really cared for me to keep some kind of... reputation. So I am the one who should be apologising."

Raymond shakes his head. "I never believed in you. Never believed you could change. Robin kept telling me how you were so much different after graduation and I just... completely ignored it, even back at Scoops. Didn't wanna hurt my pride and approach you, I guess. Didn't wanna be wrong and go through it again." He clears his throat. "But I miss how it used to be."

The silence swallows him up. Perhaps even the thunder calms to let them speak, to hear them out. The bats outside could be waiting to hear Steve's response. It's not helping Raymond in the slightest.

It really isn't, until Steve's hand lifts to caress the top of his head, ruffle the strands of his hair with a gentleness he hadn't used in ages. The smile on his face appears broken, ripped apart by the years and years of miscommunication, mistrust, wasted away until only the ghost remained. Raymond feels safe.

"I miss it, too."

The embrace somehow comes awkwardly. It's not the most spontaneous of hugs, not really, with the two of them not used to each other's touch anymore. And it's not even that much of a hug, really. Just holding each other close. The hand in Raymond's hair pulls him closer and he follows Steve's lead, resting his head on his shoulder. The collar of Eddie's vest on Steve is damp when Raymond pulls away.

"So... you and Eddie resolved your shit yet?"

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I'm taking it all back, screw you." Raymond covers his face as he feels it burn, with Steve bursting into laughter beside him. "I don't miss this at all. Go back to Tommy H."

"No, no, man, I'm serious," Steve insists. "It's been ages, but I know you, alright? This seems legit, this thing between you two. You're closer now."

"Imprisonment does that to people."

"You know what I mean, Ray. Whatever it is, I hope you guys figure it out. He's a nice guy." He sighs. "Nagging, annoying, weird as shit, but nice. He's good for you, he's been good, I just couldn't see it before. I was wrong. Just... whatever you two have going on, figure it out soon. With the world ending, I'd want people I love as close to me as possible."

"We're already cl— hey!" He scoffs. "Did Nancy tell you that? Last time I checked, you were still trying to get her back."

Steve shakes his head. "Yeah, man, I'm... working on it, I guess. I'm preparing this whole thing, this speech, so I need to find the right moment. Just never feels right. I don't know what's going on."

He's witnessed Steve's speeches before. Nancy's in for an unpleasant surprise, but he won't deny her the chance to hear it herself.

"Good luck with that. With her boyfriend, too," Raymond replies quietly and Steve scoffs.

"So I have to go out there and confess— what? That I've been flirting with every girl I've ever been in the same room with just to get over someone and you don't have to go to that- that personal-space-intruding metalhead and confess you're in love with him?"

Oh, how Raymond missed this.

Yet, he brushes it off again. "Nah, you know my lifestyle. I always fall on my knees before I fall in love."

Steve's expression morphs into one that tells Raymond he did not need to know that, but he shakes his head nonetheless. Raymond watches as Steve furrows his eyebrows. "Wait, what time is it?"

Raymond proudly reveals his waterproof watch. "It's exactly midnight."

Steve grins. "Happy birthday, man."

Oh.

Oh.

He's going to die on his fucking birthday.

"Huh," Raymond lets out, stunned. "I forgot."

"I didn't."

"It already feels like the best one so far," Raymond drawls out, grimacing at the deadly monster-vine sitting by his leg. "But thanks. For remembering."

There's a moment and he regrets it, regrets remembering a younger version of Steve and other kids Steve brought, but Raymond never really knew well enough to invite them himself, yet appreciated anyway, sitting at his kitchen table, the fake smiles of his parents as they all but screamed the birthday song in his face even though they all knew they'd screamed at each other only hours before that. He remembers Steve helping him take shards of glass out of his birthday cake after everyone was gone.

He clears his throat. "Maybe we should go upstairs, see how the others are doing."

"Yeah, sure," Steve's reply comes smoothly. The boys help each other up, but they don't even reach the stairs when Steve stops in his tracks. "Again! You hear that?"

Raymond frowns. "Hear what?"

"Henderson," he replies. Hands around his mouth, he calls out, "Dustin! Dustin!"

Blinking at his best friend with what may be the biggest frown ever, Raymond's as confused as he's endeared.

AUTHOR'S NOTE! (a long one)

i didn't exactly split it but i trimmed this one a bit :D
the next chapter will be up soon, as soon as i edit it a little bit and work on some details

sooooo constantine huh? fun... any new characters i make up are here intentionally, for reasons i can't explain rn but you'll see!

FUCKING FINALLY!!! STEVE AND RAY!!! y'all don't get how happy i am, this is one of my favourite dynamics in this book and the most important one after ray and eddie and i NEEDED it to work and it works and AHH I'M HAPPY

a few quick comments just in case there's any confusion:

the final conflict between ray and steve happens BEFORE he ditches tommy and carol. they run off, ray ends up at the station, steve meets him and they fight, then he realises he should get away from carol and tommy

leaving toxic friends is never easy!! although steve fights them after this, i'm sure he doesn't instantly stop being friends with them. they're very manipulative and controlling and he's nothing if not confused throughout this entire show, so i just want you to keep in mind that's why ray stays away. he still sees him with them after this

you may be wondering why steve is homophobic towards ray when he obviously accepts robin later on! he's developed as a character and evolved from someone who's loved by the popular crowd into someone genuinely good and back then there was no way being queer was acceptable and naturally, steve was not at all supportive back then. with his growth come certain realisations that judging people based on things they can't change sucks :/

also the ultimate headcanon is that steve is bi, so maybe this is something internalised as well.. who knows...

btw i know ray is apologising way more than he needs to be. it's steve's fault. still, ray regrets holding a grudge all these years, rather than what he did at that moment. he feels bad because their time is probably up

the next chapter is the last one of vol. 1!! buckle up and take care <3