Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget Me
Gates Of Hell
Word Count: 9.2k
Warnings: mentions of death, violence, claustrophobia, lotsssssss of angst - i am the real monster, gun use,
steve is adorable as usual and y/n is... she needs help, my girl is going through it
[A/N: It's 3am and I thought it was a great time to rewrite the ending so if it's bad, that's why. In all seriousness, I am so thankful to everyone who has an insane amount of patience. I am currently on my last few months of uni so it's been hectic but I do still love writing this fic, I just haven't had time :( I hope the weeks of waiting were worth it?
To sum up this chapter... I have officially decided I am incapable of happiness... anyways, enjoy!]
Don't Forget Me
The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me.
Ever since those words slipped from your mouth, the realisation was striking the remaining tethers to your sanity.
The radio had cut out a while ago, leaving a long strand of frustrating static in the air. You couldn’t find yourself to care about that right now. Something wants you here. Why?
As it turns out, you weren’t the only one wondering.
“This monster is running around making gates, and following you? Why you?” Steve had attempted to reclaim the radio signal once it had blared incomprehensible static, but he had no such luck. Instead, he turned back to you, feeling sick at the haunted look on your face.
“I don’t know.” You say quietly, staring down at the damp map lying on the rocky floor in front of you.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Steve states, squinting at the small building your finger currently rested on.
“I’m aware of that.” You sigh, rubbing your temple.
“But you still think you’re the pattern we can’t quite figure out?”
“I don’t know, Steve!” You suddenly snap before the colour drains from your face. You didn't mean to do that. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s too specific to only be a coincidence. I just don’t know why.”
Steve slowly nods, cautious of the way you were tucking your hands into your sleeves, obviously trying to hide their uncontrollable shaking.
“Is it to do with the virus?” He asks, the question tasting like poison on his tongue.
The virus is almost covering you now, creeping up your jaw. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, and Steve had already seen it. Already the venom was influencing you more than you had expected.
“I don’t think so.” You shake your head, mindlessly flexing your fingers.
“Then what’s different?” He looks at you with a soft frown, a look you’ve seen more in the past few days. “If not the virus, what else could it possibly want with you?”
You start to shrug, conditioned to feel like you were in the dark. Since finding the others in the lab, it had become increasingly clear that you were an outsider to their heroic group. You weren’t there when El was first discovered, completely unaware that the small girl adopted into your family was a superhero in her own right. You didn’t fight a demogorgon, or protect the kids from danger, and you especially didn’t save the world.
But this wasn’t about them anymore. This was about you. Your connection. And with all you’ve been through in the last month, you’re the only one who could solve this mystery.
Your breath catches in your throat and Steve finds your eyes, questioning.
“The dust…”
The giant shadow of a monster you had seen before was looming over what used to be the police station. It didn’t have eyes, nor even a face, but you knew it was looking directly at you.
And you felt paralysed.
You watched as it held out an arm… or was it a leg? Whichever, it pointed at you, something fluttered around its shape. Some kind of dust. Black dust.
Everything in you told you to run, but you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. The dust approached closer, slithering along the ground like vines. And you stared, heart jumping into your throat…
Wisps of wind trailed past your ears, unheard from the heartbeat thrumming against your eardrums until it became louder. It wasn’t just wind… it was voices. Incomprehensible murmurs swirling around you.
Until it wasn’t so incomprehensible any more.
“Tell her”
“Dust?” Steve frowns, tensing his shoulders. “You mean the Mind Flayer?”
“That night the shapeshifter separated us.” You start nodding, absent-mindedly moving closer to him. “I remember escaping the arcade and then…”
“Then?” He prompts, a hushed tone to both of your voices despite the privacy of the rocky ledge.
“I saw the Mind Flayer.” You say and he feels a chill run down his spine. “It- I couldn’t move. And these, like, scary images were in my head before I had this really intense nightmare. The next thing I knew, you were there and I wasn’t stuck anymore.”
“You were in some kind of trance. It took me a while to get you out of it.” He recalls, nodding slowly. Even the memory made his stomach clench. “What did you see? The images?”
“Hawkins.” You lower your eyes, slumping back against the hard rock, “It was… it was like it was on fire. Nothing looked the same. There was this giant gap and-and so many monsters. People… bodies.”
“An apocalypse.” Steve finishes for you and you nod your head, eyes squeezed shut.
“If we don't stop whatever it is opening these gates, Hawkins is going to burn.”
Your words struck a chill down his spine, the fear in your eyes evident even as you try and avoid looking towards him. There was a scared determination in the way you started down at the map. It was almost as if Steve could feel the waves in your brain radiating with an idea.
That's cute, Steve thought as you bit your lip in concentration. Adoring you felt better than the dread of an apocalypse.
“I'm going to the motel.”
Steve’s head almost snapped off his neck in the miniscule amount of time it took him to react, staring at you like you were crazy. You are crazy.
“Are you crazy?!”
He expected some sort of retort, or an ounce of an amused grin on your lips. But you only nodded.
“We know this thing is there. If I can catch it, kill it, whatever, I can save whoever is left. This is my chance to stop it.”
You were being reasonable, offering a calm take on the situation with a decision you were ready to face. Steve, on the other hand, took your proclamation as an act of war.
“If you think for one second I’m gonna let you get yourself killed, you’re outta your mind.” He says with a stern face, prompting your brows to scrunch together.
“Funny, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” You shot back and he shakes head in disbelief.
“Y/n, this isn’t just some fun little holiday where you can do whatever you want. You’re gonna walk into a literal death trap!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the panic was already settling in and taking control.
“There is something there that’s been following me, following us! Don’t you want to figure it out? End all of this?!”
“Whatever it is has been managing to rip a gap between worlds with its mind! It’s mind, Y/n!” He stressed, expressing himself with his hands, “I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that and neither do you!”
“What does it matter? I’m dead either way!”
You can see him pale in front of you, sucking in a breath.
“Don’t say that.” He whispers out, a quiver in his bottom lip and you hate yourself. Why did you have to hurt the people you loved?
“It’s true, Steve. I’m already out of time.” You tilt your head, a clash of lightning above illuminating the veins that slithered along your jaw. “I want to find whatever it is poisoning our town and I want to destroy it before…”
“Before what? It spreads to other towns?” He frowns, running a hand through his hair. “It’s made it pretty clear it only wants Hawkins-”
“Before it gets you.” You finish, staring up at him. If you looked in his eyes any longer, you would see your reflection, a reminder of what he was scared to lose, but that you were willing to sacrifice.
“We know there’s a pattern. And now we know it’s me. And… and I don’t know why, but it wants me. This virus is barely hours away from reaching my brain and honestly now is the perfect time to finally figure all this shit out and face it.”
“And if you get killed?” His voice cracks and you bite your lip, pretending like you didn’t know the answer when all you could think about for the past three weeks was the inevitable.
“Like I said,” You gulp, forcing yourself to hold eye contact. “I’m already out of time.”
“What about your dad? Robin? All of those little shitheads who clearly adore you-”
“They don’t need me, Steve.”
“I do.”
“No you don’t.” You shake your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “You’ve been doing this shit long before I was ever in the picture. If anything, I’ve just ruined it-”
“Why do you do that?” He cuts you off, flickering between your eyes with a look of concern. “Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”
“Steve-”
“No, I wouldn’t have survived this thing without you here. Neither of us would have survived...”
When his voice trails off, you watch him scrunch his face and take a deep breath. He walks away from you, running a hand through his hair. He was thinking, struggling to make a decision. But he always did, and it was always the right one.
“You’re not going to listen to a word I say, are you?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder. You silently shake your head, seeing no reason to prolong this fight. “Fine.”
“Fine?” You repeat, unsure you heard him right.
“I can’t stop you.” He shrugs, sniffing back the emotions lingering at the back of his throat. If he couldn’t convince you, he would just have to make sure you knew you weren’t alone. “But I can help.”
“Wait, no-”
“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”
A flash of surprise hits your face as Steve breathes heavy, not giving you another second to try and convince him to let you go. You had to understand that he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go. No matter how many times he lived through that scenario in his head, replaying the scene as if you disappearing would leave his heart intact, he just couldn’t do it. Steve knew it was foolish to expect a different ending, but surely he was allowed to have hope.
Was it hope?
Or was it something he refused to see for what it truly was?
A delusion.
“If this thing is really opening the gates, why don’t we, like, make it open another one?”
Steve’s question hangs in the air when he shakes the thought away, realising the obvious answer before the last word even left his lips.
The ground coughed out a soft crunch beneath your footsteps, trailing beside Steve through the twisted crops of Merril’s farm. Even in the Upside Down, the field didn’t differ visually from the real thing. You remember when the crops started to degrade, Merrill grumbling about his neighbour poisoning them. The dispute had been entertaining to you. But now you knew the truth, it didn’t seem so funny anymore.
“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you trip over a vine, managing to regain your balance.
“What’s wrong?” Steve is by your side at an instant, brown eyes laced with worry scanning you.
“Nothing, just tripped.” You dismiss, frowning at the vine behind you. A shudder rolls down your back when you think you can see it moving, but the clash of lightning above was probably playing tricks with the light.
As you go to take another step, your vision blurs. You try and blink it away, rubbing at your eyes. There’s an unsettling rush of heat beneath your skin, scorching your nerves. It should be cause for panic. But you’ve been through this before. Your only fear was knowing you weren’t hiding it anymore.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve quickly grabs onto your shoulders and you blink as he catches you before gravity took you victim. You didn’t even realise you were falling. “Hey, you okay?”
No. Steve already knew that. How could you possibly be okay when the virus was slowly closing in on you?
“Just… give me a minute.” You catch your breath, trying every technique to stabilise your heart rate as you fall into a squatted position. You hated that this thing was slowing you down, and you hated being out in the open like this, knowing that because of you, the both of you were going to be in more danger than necessary.
Steve stands by your side, slowly sliding the bag from his shoulder to fish out his bat, hand wavering over the metal weapon resting below. No. That was for emergencies. This was just his paranoia setting in.
“Nice day, huh?” Steve offers when the silence became unbearable, making you laugh. He smiles. He loved making you laugh.
“I’ve seen worse.” You reply, standing back up and taking another breath, slow and easy. “Okay, I think I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“M-hm.” You nod, a small smile gracing your face as you adjusted your bag and found rhythm between your footsteps once again.
It was getting scarier, the time between your virus lapses decreasing more and more. You weren’t ready to turn into one of those things. No one could be.
How would I stop myself from killing?
Your eyes drift over to the boy next to you, his admirable determination guiding you both through the farm like it was his life’s mission.
What if you took his life?
You snap your head away, focusing on your breaths. One breath in. Hold. One breath out.
Will I have to watch myself murder innocent people?
One breath in. One breath out. One breath in-
“Y/n?”
Sometimes the dim light of the Upside Down was a blessing. The low exposure shielded you from seeing the way he looked at you; with concern, sadness, pity. You found it hard to be so vulnerable like this. You didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. You barely allowed yourself to be perceived unless it was for all the wrong reasons.
It was a stupid stupid habit to bear such hatred towards yourself for feeling. But this is how you been for years now. You weren’t sure how to be any other way.
“You’re suspiciously quiet.” Steve comments, attempting to lighten the dreary mood. “Not that I’m complaining. Finally, some peace.”
“Rude.” You reply almost instantly, unable to resist the smile pulling at your lips.
Steve hated how dark it was in the Upside Down. Without much light, he was unable to study your features in times like this, to watch the joy return to your eyes after weeks of torment.
But even in the dark, he knew exactly how much hurt you were hiding beneath that worn-out mask of yours.
“Seriously. What’s on your mind?” Steve asks you as he scrunches his face in disgust as the tip of his shoe brushes against the pile of inedible black mush that once was a pumpkin.
“Other than monsters, the apocalypse, and my general state of being?” You smirk at him, but he already sensed your hesitancy.
“Yeah, the important stuff.” He shrugs with a chuckle.
I’m scared if you don’t run away, I might hurt you.
You shake your head free of intruding thoughts, focusing on the ones that sparked unusual butterflies in your stomach.
“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”
“Um, you said something earlier. Back at the quarry.” You force yourself to keep walking, trying to hide the smile in your voice.
“Like what?” He blinks innocently. A jolt of anxiety rushes through your brain.
Oh god, what if he didn’t mean it? He could have just gotten confused, or caught up in the intensity of it all and you were about to embarrass yourself for ever thinking differently.
As painful as it is, that option was probably the best one. Maybe then it’ll make it easier when the virus destroys you.
“You, um… you called me your… girlfriend.” You almost cringe trying to finish what you started.
Steve almost trips, looking like a deer in headlights.
“Oh. That.” Steve lets out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh… you know, it was just, uh…”
“Heat of the moment?” You offer quietly and he clears his throat.
“Yeah, right. Heat of the moment.”
“Yeah, of course. That’s- that’s what I thought it was.” You shake your head, wanting to move on from this subject as quickly as you could. “Just wanted to be sure.”
“Would it… would it be so bad if it wasn’t just the, uh, heat of the moment?” Steve suddenly asks.
You go quiet. Too quiet. And Steve clicks his tongue.
“Oh.”
“No, I didn’t mean-” You scrunch your eyes shut, footsteps slowing to a complete stop. “It just doesn’t feel right to say it.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Of course it does. Nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life, you want to scream, seal it in stained ink. But you had to look at the reality. You were going to die. You just wanted to make it as emotionally painless as you could.
“We’re not… we aren’t meant to be together, Steve.” You lie straight through your teeth, avoiding his eyes.
Steve scoffs, a hand on his hips as he looks at you in disbelief. “Yes, we are.”
“No. We’re not.” You say with a little more conviction, shaking your head. “This. Us. It’s not… how do we even know it’s real?”
When you avoided his eyes for a little too long, his hands find your face, cupping your cheeks to gently tilt your head to look at him. You just softly take them away, but he never lets go of your hands.
“If the gates hadn’t opened that day in detention… we never would have even looked at each other again.” You say, sadness coating your voice.
“But it did happen. And I’m looking at you right now. We got through it. Together.”
“We survived together. We- we relied on each other because we literally had no one else to.” You frown, shrugging it away as if your own words weren’t hurting you. “We went through literal hell and that’s what we bonded over. We don’t- How can you say this is real when we’ve been faking it all since day one? Let’s just be honest, it’s not gonna go any further so let’s save us both some time-”
“You’re doing it again.” He interrupts, his gaze on you unwavering.
“I’m not doing anything-”
“You’re pretending like you don’t care.”
You don’t respond.
“I care. A lot. Probably too much for it to just be a- a survival bond or whatever you said. And it’s definitely not fake.” He lets out a soft laugh, heart racing faster. “Actually… I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt something so real with someone before. It’s like- like breathing. You know? I can’t breathe without your stupid cute little face in my head or your annoying voice making me feel calm, or-or even this right here, your delusional belief that someone can’t possibly be in love with you which makes me want to just shake it out of you because it’s true, Y/n. It’s real. I’m in love with you, okay?”
Your mouth parts in silence, just looking at him, stunned. You were only trying to convince some excuses, to try and make it easier when it all inevitably ends. But you hadn’t really taken into account how much you both felt. And now everything was going to be so much harder.
“So, uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, releasing you from his hold and shrugging. “Just accept it.”
You both stand there for a moment, reliving his words. I’m in love with you. Steve doesn’t regret it, but he starts to feel nervous the longer you don’t say something.
“Can you… can you promise me something?”
Steve holds his breath. He knows what you’re going to ask. And he knows that no matter how many times he runs through that scenario in his head, he never pulls the trigger. He won’t take your-
“Don’t forget me.”
It wasn’t the promise he was expecting, brows furrowing with the intention of your words. He just wants to hold you, yell at you until you understood he couldn’t leave you behind, he wouldn’t let the virus take you. He’d find a cure, make one if he had to.
But he didn’t have time to figure out where to start because he was suddenly very aware you were both out in the open. And something was rustling the leaves, watching.
He quickly raises his bat, eyes focused. He can just make out a shadow, making him squint. Probably just another demodog, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.
Except it’s taller. Almost… human?
And then he sees the glowing eyes, the gaping mouth. It was the screaming monster from the Radio Shack.
“Steve?” You frown once you catch it too, looking at him, waiting for his call.
“Once it screams, we run. Every monster and their mother is gonna hear it, and we need to get out of the open, fast.” He hisses between his teeth as he watches the creature weave its way through the trees, drawing closer.
“And lead them all straight to the motel?” You whisper back at him, and his face pales. There goes that plan.
“Shit.”
“What about that house?” You suddenly ask, tilting your head to your left. “The huge one on that hill? It’s the opposite direction from the motel and the closest thing-”
“Oh, god, no.” Steve breathes out, shaking his head with determination. “Remember what Robin called it? You do not enter a house called the murder house. Especially when you’re being chased by murderous flesh-eating monsters!”
“It’s pretty much our only choice right now.” You stress, the small hairs on your arm prickling the closer the creature gets. “We run through, slip out the back, and tail it to the motel before it’s-”
If Steve had any objections, you never heard them. All you heard was the terrifying scream rippling from the unhinged jaw of a ghostly woman.
“Run, run!” You yell, already feeling the effects of an ear-splitting pitch.
Steve immediately grabs your hand and you run, blindly trusting the boy you had assumed your enemy for 4 years of your life.
He wasn’t sure if you’d both be able to get inside in time, fully away of the hoard of monsters emerging from the shadows and chasing you down. It was a risky bet, this house. But you were right. It was the only option.
If Steve wasn’t so adamant on moving fast, he might have felt the soft tug of your arm as your body struggles to keep up, the stretch of the hill proving the laws of physics were never your friend. As long as your hand was in his, you were going to be fine.
The harsh creak of rotten floorboards as Steve barrelled into the room echoed menacingly in his ear. He quickly dropped your hand, pulling you behind him and making haste of tugging a tall and heavy cabinet down so it blocked the entrance. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would give you both enough time to slip out unnoticed.
“That should keep them back, we gotta-”
Steve expected to find your hand as he reached back for you, but the space was bare. He spins around, stomach lurching when he finds you’re already sat against the wall, looking worse every second.
“No.” He drops to his knees and cups your head in his hands when you struggle to keep it up, swallowing his anxiety, “No, hey, sweetheart, hey. Look at me.”
Your weary eyes meet his and his breath hitches. The black veins were now creeping up your cheeks, spreading quicker in the past few hours than they ever had before.
A sudden chorus of thumping snapped his attention, the barricade against the front door almost shattering under the weight of its attackers. It wouldn’t hold much longer. He knew you weren’t in any state to run to the motel, and he had to think fast.
Steve loops his arm around you and pulls you to your feet, muttering a string of apologies as you wince. His eyes catch the bleeding moonlight from above, enticing an idea.
It felt like your whole body was on fire, any movement contracting your muscles to pain until you could nearly faint. But you had to try, you had to move. For him.
He could sense your determination as he moved you both up the staircase, your legs wobbling but making it to the top in a timely fashion. His admiration would have to come later. Right now, he needed you both safe.
The hallway was long and dusty, Steve’s eyes barely adjusting to the darkness. He’s unsure where to go next, a lengthy display of doors scattered either side of him as he helps you walk further into the house. Maybe there was another-
A giant crash echoed out in splintered waves, dread flooding his body.
They were here.
Picking the closest door, he drags you both inside and takes care to shut it as quietly as possible, knowing one loud sound could be the end. His nerves were on high alert, struggling to make the life-saving decisions his friends usually expected from him. But the stakes were different this time. There was no one to bail him out if he makes the wrong move, no Nancy or Jonathan to come save the day. It was just him, protecting you.
The door had apparently led to a bedroom, his eyes scanning for a chair or a dresser to block- No. No. That would just make more noise- But what if they got in?
Hide. You need to hide.
Pulling you close to him, he spots a large closet on the other side of the bedroom. That would have to do.
It omitted a soft creak, making him grimace. He carefully lowers you down, noting how you were forcing yourself to breathe in even intervals. You were fighting it as best as you could, and that was all he could ask for.
As he joins you, he manoeuvres you so you were situated between his legs, knowing this would be the only way to ensure you both fit in the small space. His bat is digging into his side as his arms are wrapped around you, his back pressed against the side of the closet as he watches the bedroom door through the crack of light, holding his breath.
He couldn’t hear anything, but that was the scary part. He had hoped to hear the creatures crash through the ground floor and somehow be tricked back outside, relieving his mind with the knowledge he made the right decision.
The space was becoming all too small, even with the door cracked open. And that’s when the fear came creeping in.
What if a demogorgon found you?
What if it tracks your scent, follows the trail up the staircase, opens the third door on the left?
What if it stalks into the room and starts listening closely, hearing his quickened breaths of panic?
What if the last thing Steve saw was the thing ripping open the closet doors, a set of giant claws caging you in, knowing there was no escape?
What if you both died in here?
He exhales a long breath, fading back into reality when he feels something gently squeeze his hand. Your hand. You had intertwined your fingers with his, head laying back against hisshoulder, sensing his anxiety.
Steve had known he was claustrophobic for a while now. As a little kid, he remembers when he and his friends would play in the woods, a hollowed tree trunk on the ground marking the final destination of their adventure. That was the first time he felt fear, he thinks, curled up halfway through the tight space as his shirt was caught on protruding bark. He remembers his friends laughing and leaving to go find his parents when it became all too serious, assuming they had abandoned him there.
The tunnels were far worse than his 7 year old self’s nightmares. When the demodogs came barrelling towards them, his sudden realisation that he would be dragged back into those tunnels and left for dead, he had never felt so hopeless. He couldn’t even fight, not really. He could only attempt to shield Dustin with his body, and pray they made his death quick.
He never really knew how to get himself out of these situations. His parents had enticed him out with harsh words and false promises, eventually dragging him out by his arms when his mind couldn’t stop imagining the tree collapsing in on him. The demodogs hadn’t attacked in the end, sparing them with pure luck and giving him no time to reflect on his darker thoughts, the kids needing him more than he needed closure from himself.
But one single touch of your hand changed everything. No words, no rush. Just a reminder he was still here. And you were here with him.
He felt your body tense the moment the floorboards out on the hallway creak, just quiet enough to let him know the creature was trying to be silent. Something was looking for you.
The virus had taken its toll on you, the past few minutes of your life flashing by in a blur. You don’t even remember climbing into the closet, waiting in suspenseful agony for a sign that the coast was clear. But all of a sudden, you had finally returned to reality, feeling Steve’s erratic heartbeat on your back.
You almost flinched when you heard something bang against the bedroom door. It was sudden, ricocheting an echo of vibration through the floor. And then it was complete and utter silence.
You must have been shaking because Steve holds you closer, forcing you to take a few quiet breaths. You’d be okay. It will be okay.
Another sharp crash blares out, but it’s further this time. Whatever it was outside of that door was leaving, finally. But that didn’t stop you both from sitting there for a little while longer, afraid to move from the safety of the wooden walls.
It was you who made the first move to leave, shifting in his arms and pointing to the door. You had caught your breath now, shaking away the virus’ side effects with strength Steve could only respect.
Steve pushes the closet door open and you are finally back on your feet, offering a hand to pull him up with you.
“That was close.” He breathes out with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He retrieves his bat from the wardrobe and turns around to see you’re stood still with a guilty expression on your face.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper out, shaking your head. “We could’ve- it’s my fault.”
“What? No.” He crosses the room and pulls you into a hug, one you definitely needed. “No, it’s not your fault. None of this is.”
After a moment, he pulls away, sucking in a breath. “Now let’s get the hell out of here because this place is giving me the creeps.”
You nodded to his words, shivering as you observed the room you stood in. It looked like a master bedroom, possibly decorated for a couple to reside in. Everything was either covered in dust or cobwebs, a pang of sadness hitting your chest.
You knew the rumours of this place; a man going crazy and killing his entire family, their ghosts now haunting the place ready to collect more victims. But right now, you didn’t feel haunted.
A family had died here, the home clearly decorated with care and love from the people who never got a chance to live in it. And it has just been left like this, to wither and rot away.
Steve poked his head out of the door and listened out, making sure you weren’t just walking into a trap. He did the same as he leaned over the banister, clocking the wide open front door, now adorned in malicious claw marks.
“Fastest route?” He asks as you join him at the back of the house, squinting into the horizon.
There were only two options; along the road and out in the open, or through the woods with little to no light. You tried to think back to when you originally thought of the plan, retracing your steps.
“I’m thinking, uh…” Your voice suddenly cuts off and you turn to stare at him, a hint of a smirk on your lips. Steve frowns. “Do I remember you calling me sweetheart earlier?”
Heat rushes to Steve’s cheeks. “What? No. That would be weird. I don’t have a pet name for you. Or any name, actually. Other than your actual name. Maybe ‘asshole’. Not- not sweetheart- right, we’re cutting through the woods this way.”
He marches off before he becomes any more of a mess than he already is, hearing your laughter as it trails behind him.
“So… where the hell is this mysterious gate maker gonna be?”
You were both stood in the parking lot of Motel 6, eyes scanning each room as if a source of light would illuminate the monster you were hunting. If your theory was right, and it was all originating from here… how long has it been right under your noses?
“Maybe it’s like the gates.” You offer, shrugging. “What did Dustin say? In the heart, or something. The middle.”
“I hope not.” Steve states and you turn to where he was suggesting.
The heart of the hotel wouldn’t be one of the rooms, nor the office. And you had a suspicion Steve had thought correctly.
The basement.
Staring down at those two daunting metal doors, you feel your skin prickle. You take a glance over your shoulder, frowning.
In all three weeks you’ve been down here, you’ve never encountered a single monster at the motel. It had been a last minute resort for safety, ensuring you weren’t followed, picking room 303 as if it mattered. You were pretty good at sneaking around the place, but you never realised how truly odd it was that no monster ever followed you.
Maybe that answer was waiting for you behind those basement doors.
“Wait,” Steve gently places a hand on your waist as you move towards it, staring down with brown eyes of deep concern. “Are we sure we really wanna do this?”
“There isn’t another choice.” You say, yet you were still hesitant as you walked up to the doors, forcing each step you took.
No locks, no obstacles. Just a pair of metallic blocks on hinges. That felt worse somehow.
“If I had a nickel for every time I had to go down into a cellar to look for a monster…” Steve sighs to himself, catching your curious look. “Uh, I’d only have, like, two. But still. That’s two more than I should have.”
You can only nod in agreement, your breath caught in your throat.
Are we sure we really wanna do this?
The unsatisfying creak of metal echoes across the parking lot, Steve letting out a low whistle as he stares down into darkness.
“I’m sure this won’t be creepy at all.” He comments, taking the first step down before you had the chance. You’ve noticed that about him, always the first to enter an unknown room. A protector.
Light bleeds through a small window on the other side of the cellar. There was more space than you were expecting, but the strangest part was the fact there was nothing in here. Like it had never been used to store anything.
“It’s empty.” You announce, stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room.
“Maybe the landlord kicked it out.” Steve shrugs, silently relieved. He catches your fallen expression and places a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’ll find another way.”
And then the basement doors swing shut, the sound rattling through the dark cellar at an alarming pitch.
“Shit!”
Steve drops his bat and rushes back up the steps to push against the metal doors. Nothing. He drives his shoulder into it. It doesn’t budge.
“How is it locked?!” He grunts, giving it one last try before backing away, shaking his head. “There wasn’t any lock on it!”
Your stomach drops.
You both freeze, turning once again to the singular door at the end of the hallway, a snarl vibrating through the wood of it.
The door you had walked through swung itself closed with a loud bang.
Spinning around with no intention of being here any longer, you reach out and pull the handle towards you.
It didn’t budge.
You grab the other handle in your spare hand and pull harder, the doors rattling under your force, but never opening.
“Billy!” You yell, but he’s already pushing against the doors, eyes wide. “It’s locked! How is it locked?!”
“Shit!” He hisses, turning to ram his shoulder against it for extra strength, but he couldn’t keep it up forever.
It was all happening again.
You had just walked into another trap.
“It’s here.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Steve is on high alert, frantically looking around the basement. But it’s still empty.
“Nothing is here, Y/n.” He frowns.
“Not on this side.” You gasp when something suddenly echoes in your ear. You look at Steve, startled, but he doesn’t share the same expression.
“What?”
“You didn’t hear that?”
“Hear what?”
You start moving around, trying to find a spot to make the incomprehensible whispers clearer. Steve’s heart is pounding louder.
“It’s that voice again.” You mutter to yourself.
“Voice? Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Steve manages to catch you for a split second, and you meet his eyes. His face drops.
The veins were creeping up your face, laying just beneath your eyes. He places a hand on your forehead. You’re burning up.
“Y/n, you don’t look so good.”
“It has to be here.” You shake your head out of his hold, stepping back. “The map- it has to be here!”
And then you hear it again, the voice. Except, this time, it’s so much clearer.
“Tell her”
You suddenly stop, letting out a gasp and Steve’s anxiety is sky-rocketing. You were both trapped inside this basement with something he couldn’t see.
He tries the doors again, thumping his fist against it like it would dislodge something. Nothing. Glancing over his shoulder, he clocks the window. Maybe…
Steve sprints over, dropping the bag off his shoulder and onto the floor beside him as he fumbles around for some kind of latch. Something rattles and he smiles. Bingo.
“Hey, we can get out through the window. Wasn’t rocket science, but I’m still a genius.”
He turns back to look at you over his shoulder, smiling. You’re currently near the far corner, your back facing him. You don’t seem to have heard him, breathing in odd intervals as you stare down at your hands.
“Y/n.” He tries again, louder. Your head twitches. Steve releases the latch on the window, fear flooding his entire body.
That same familiar feeling starts twisting in his gut, the same he always had when something is really really wrong. He never ignored it, never wanted to, because it was always right. But he didn’t want to believe it this time.
He slowly steps away from the window, his eyes permanently glued to the back of your head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.
Trying again, his voice cracks under the pressure of speaking your name like it would warp the vicious reality he was living in.
“Y/n?”
You snap your head to him, and the colour drains from his face.
“No…”
He lost you.
The world bled to grey as tears start trailing from his eyes, staring into yours. Except, they weren’t yours. They were darker, soulless. Black blood was dripping from your chin, staining your lips.
Lips he had once kissed.
Lips he would never kiss again.
“Don’t do this.” He begs, unable to find the force to speak louder than a whisper. “Y/n, please. It’s not- I can’t hurt you. You know I can’t hurt you. Y/n...”
You snarled at him this time, your mannerisms unnerving. It wasn’t you anymore.
His eyes slowly drift to his bat, making him clench his jaw. It was closer to you than it was to him. He wouldn’t be able to reach it in time.
But he knew he wasn’t completely defenceless. He just wasn’t sure if he had the strength to use it.
You suddenly lunge at him and he instinctively dives for his bag, rolling away from your attack in the last second. He unzips it, staring down. He couldn’t do this.
Snarls and hisses spit from your mouth as you scramble up from the floor, blinking rapidly as you search in the dark.
Click.
Your whole body snaps to him in one sharp movement.
With a shaking hand, he stares directly into your eyes.
“Y/n, please.” He sobs, “Please, you have to be in there.”
Not even the mournful pressure against his chest felt as heavy as the gun in his hand, tears rolling down his face.
It was your idea to take a pistol from the cabin, knowing you couldn’t use it unless it was in moments of emergency, afraid the rippling sound of the bullet would alert every monster in the town. You both swore you’d never have to use it.
And here he was, pointing it directly at your head.
“Steve?” Your small voice prickles his hearing and he moves his gaze from your hands to your eyes, darting between the pupils in silent study. “If I… if it-”
“No.” He immediately shakes his head and you could almost sob. For what felt like days, you’ve been trying to have this conversation with him, but he always shuts it down, pretending like it wasn’t needed.
“You need to listen-”
“I am not killing you.” He says with conviction, and he feels your fingers slip out of his reach. “That’s not happening, Y/n, you can’t expect me to-”
“And what then?” You cry, standing taller, making his head crane to look up at you as you wrap your arms around your torso. “You’re just gonna watch me turn into a monster and let me stay that way?!”
“This isn’t just some sort of favour you’re asking for!” He frowns, shaking his head. “You want me to kill you. To end your life!”
He knew this was coming. You knew this was coming. You’ve been trying to warn him for weeks now, pleading to him. And he never listened. He never wanted to.
Three weeks ago, Steve would have shot you in that school hallway if you had turned after the bite, the memory bitter but his heart still intact.
Three weeks later, Steve would rather shoot himself then live with the memory of putting a bullet between the eyes of the girl he was in love with.
It can’t end like this. It can’t.
“It’s me.” He tries again, hoping his voice could break you free from the virus. “It’s me. Steve. Remember?”
He should have known hope was never his friend.
A voice completely alien to you rips out a screech from your throat, and hell comes to bludgeon him with the worst it had to offer.
Steve watches in horror as the skin starts peeling from your face, tearing it into pieces like a flower and its petals.
Like a demogorgon.
It was too late. You weren’t coming back to him.
You run at him, sharp teeth bared, mind forever gone.
Steve’s eyes shut…
… and he pulls the trigger.
“STEVE!”
Your throat was sore from relentless screaming, sobbing with your entire chest.
Steve had rushed over to the window just after you heard that voice. You had turned your back on him, distracted by what you thought was a shadow hiding in the walls.
You heard him call your name. But when you turned around…
His eyes were rolled back, stood deathly still.
“Steve! Wake up!” You keep trying to shake him out of his trance, watching as a trail of red bleeds from his nose. “No! No, wake up! Steve!”
More and more whispers echo around you, building up until all you heard were the same repeated words.
“What do you want?!” You scream into the dark, cheeks stained with relentless tears. Steve was dying, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
In a desperate attempt for help, you crouch down by the window and start rifling through his bag, batting the gun to the side to grab the radio.
“Hello?! Is anyone there?! Please!!”
You cry out in frustration when all that responds is the piercing static.
“That won’t help you.”
The radio slips from your hand in shock, clattering against the concrete as your wide eyes fixate on the image in the corner.
Something was forming from the shadows, pulling together pieces of the dark like it was dust. Your body floods with ice. The basement had never been dark. You were just surrounded by the same black dust that haunted every single nightmare.
Your shaking hands swipe the bat from the ground and grip it tight, shielding Steve’s body with your own. You hear his breaths become shallower.
“You were never meant to find me.” It spoke in a dark voice, fading in and out like a weak connection.
A gasp slips from your mouth when the particles build its final form. A silhouette of a man, featureless yet distinctive. Of all the creations you had envisioned, you didn’t expect the monster to be so… human.
A man.
“What do you want?!” You yell at it, raising the bat like it would scare it away.
“I tried time and time again to get you to understand.” He spoke, drifting closer to you. “I gave you the future. Visions. A simple task.”
Something like a sob escapes Steve’s lips and you whip your head to him, feeling completely and utterly helpless. You weren’t going to defeat the monster like you said you would. And now you were going to watch him die, knowing you were the only reason he was down here with you.
“It was the only way to make sure you listened.”
You turn back to the monster, a scowl twisting onto your face.
“Let him go.” You warn, but you knew your threat was meaningless.
“You have no power here.” He states, and you could almost feel the shadow smiling at you with malicious intent. “I make the rules.”
Goosebumps return to their path along your skin, trailing up your arms and prickling at your neck, making you shiver.
“I will let him go… Once you carry out one important task.” He nods, closer once again. You shift your body protectively in front of Steve, holding your breath.
“What…” You blink away tears, feeling suffocated by his presence.
You understood why the other monsters were so afraid of the dark.
Your arms didn’t feel attached to your body when they suddenly start to lower themselves, a shadowed hand reaching for your face.
“Bring me the girl.”
You frown, shaking your head. Girl?
As if he heard your thoughts, he leans close to you, speaking one word.
“Eleven.”
“El?” You gasp, and he steps away from you, observing. “Why- what do you want with her?”
“Bring her to me, and I will let him go.” The figure doesn’t answer your question, tilting its head. “Once you leave this place, you’ll find her, and you’ll bring her to me. That is all I want.”
“And if I don’t?” You raise your chin, regaining the feeling in your arms.
He slowly raises his hand, pointing it to the boy behind you. At first, nothing happened. And then you watch in despair as Steve’s body starts to slowly lift from the ground, a strained yell of pain.
“Stop!” You beg, and the shadow obeys, Steve’s feet touching the ground.
One little action and it was so simple it was terrifying. If you don’t bring El to him, he’ll kill Steve.
This monster knew you. It had been following you around since the dust you encountered, observing the things that made you tick, the things you loved, hated, needed. He knew exactly what would make you listen to him.
He was the Voice that had been haunting you for weeks.
You look back at Steve, almost crying out when you notice he’s lost more blood in the time you’ve taken to decide. You couldn’t do that to El.
But you also couldn’t watch Steve die.
“Fine.” You sob, nodding. “Just let him go.”
“You’ll know where to find me”
And then the shadow is thrown back into the darkness, hitting a wall and sinking back into it, dispersing the dust in scattered patterns on the surface.
Steve gasps behind you, and you spin around to catch him as he stumbles forward.
“Steve!” You cry in relief, wrapping your arms around him as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Y/n?” He sounds surprised, almost sad, observing every little detail of you as if he couldn’t decide if you were real. “Wait, you’re… what happened?”
“I-”
You try to reply when a loud hum starts building behind you, your attention needed elsewhere.
The middle of the wall starts to burn away, splitting apart and blackening at the edges. The humming only became louder, a dark red hue casting your shadows.
The Voice was creating a gate. For you. To pawn your sister’s life for Steve’s. Once you stepped through it, you’d be signing a death warrant.
If you stepped through it.
“What the fuck is happening…” Steve blinks at the gate, aware of the tightened grip your hand had on his.
In his vision, he had shot you. He had committed the most unspeakable act he had time and time again refused. The worst part of it, was he thought it was real. He made that decision.
But it was all a lie, and you were here, holding his hand with a look on your face he couldn’t decipher.
“You have to go.” You say to him, your words hazy to his ears. He still wasn’t entirely sure he was back in reality, struggling to make sense of the walls around him. “Steve, listen to me. You have to go.”
“No.” He shakes his head, trying to focus. “What about… what about you?”
A booming chorus of thumps against metal suddenly arose from the basement doors. Your stomach dropped.
The creatures weren’t afraid of the dark anymore.
When the gate had spread into a human-sized portal, you start pushing Steve towards it. His sneakers were just touching the edge before he realised what was happening.
“Hey, hey! No!” He stops, and you’re not strong enough to overpower him.
“Steve, you have to go! They’re gonna break through any minute!” You cry, watching the ever-growing dents in the metal above the staircase. “Please, you have to go!”
“I’m not leaving you, Y/n!”
“It’s already too late.” You sob, wiping away your tears. Tears that felt hot, burning against your skin.
The skin littered with black veins.
“I’m gonna turn any minute now.” You place your hands on his cheeks, making sure he was listening to your every word. “And I don’t want my last memory to be crossing back into our home knowing I won’t make it 5 steps before the virus kills me. Okay? So, you’re gonna go through the gate and you’re not ever gonna look back. Please. Don’t come back for me.”
“I can’t-” He cries and you bring his forehead down to rest on yours, nodding.
“I know.” You whisper, leaning forward to leave a feather-light kiss on his lips.
His eyes are still closed when you pull back, studying him one last time.
“Which is why I’m sorry.”
Steve’s eyes snap open just in time to watch your hands find his chest and shove him as hard as you can, his body ripping through the gate faster than he can experience.
His back hits solid concrete, making him groan. It takes a second for him to blink away the dots in his vision, slowly sitting up. He can see your figure clearly, your sad eyes, the smile gracing your lips.
And then the gate starts to sew itself shut.
Steve scrambles to his feet, tugging at the dangling pieces of membrane to try and stop the process.
“Y/n!” He yells at you, the unwelcome fear striking his nerves when he hears a loud crash from the other side.
Judging by the look on your face, it was exactly what he thought it was.
“No! No! Y/n!”
The gate is getting smaller, but his screams are only getting louder, fingers desperately trying to pry it open like a set of doors. But it was useless.
He can just make out a rush of silhouettes, your retreating form.
And then he was clawing at a concrete wall, body shaking with the intensity of his tears.
“No, no, no, no!” He yells in rage, his fingers scraped and bloodied.
For the last three weeks, all he wanted was to be on the other side. And now he was here, without you, it felt worse than hell.
He barely heard the creak of metal doors open behind him, or even saw his shadow suddenly cast onto the space he lost you forever.
Steve didn’t notice anything until a voice calls out behind him, causing him to turn and squint against the beaming light.
“Steve?” Hopper frowns, squinting. “Steve.”
He rushes down those steps and drops the flashlight, both hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“Hey, kid, you alright?” He asks, but Steve can barely speak. “Kid, look at me.”
Steve looked at him, a torn and broken version of the boy Hopper had seen last. He can feel Hopper’s hands tighten, a look of horror clouding his eyes.
“Where’s Y/n?”
Don’t forget me, you had said to him. A bittersweet promise of a memory.
Steve wasn’t ready to make you a memory.
“She’s still back there.” He finally said, swallowing the bitter lie that was about to coat his tongue. “We got separated.”
He lowered his eyes, unable to look at him, trying to ignore the guilt eating away at his chest. It was cruel, to lie to a father so desperate to get his daughter back. But he was afraid the truth would show you were like your father in more ways than one.
Steve needed to do this. No matter the consequences.
“She wants us to find her.” He finally says, nodding. “She wants us to bring her back.”
To be continued...
[A/N: GOH will return for yet another installment! I'm separating the story into parts so I can trick my stupid brain that only gives me writers block into thinking it's only a short story. I honestly plan for this to last forever. Or at least until I run out of ideas lmao.]
taglist:
@toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .
@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .
@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady
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These Strings That Bind Us
first chapter; previous chapter
So this is the first chapter of this fic that I’ve posted since a few of my irl friends have started following me and now they get to see the crazed fanfiction maniac I am and I don’t know if they’re ready.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chapter 3:
Nico scanned the room he was left in. He knew logically that he was safe. That he was allowed to be… gay. And that the people that just overheard his conversation with Percy likely didn’t hate him for it.
They probably do hate you though. Even you can’t like yourself.
He just… didn’t like that knowledge to be floating around.
It was then, after observing all the sleeping and uninterested patients that he saw the face of a particular blonde peering through a corner.
“Hey. Sunshine. I see you.” Nico said trying to mask his worry.
How long had he been there?
Will exhaled a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… stalk…? I was going to check up on you but you were talking with Percy and I did to want to interrupt.”
“How much did you overhear?” Nico asked, deciding to cut to the point.
Will turned pinker. “Nothing! I swear I wasn’t trying to listen into your conversation. I was just watching,” he said getting redder. “I mean-! I wasn’t like ‘watching’ watching. But I was also not listening. I was just waiting for an opening is all. So I could check up on you. Because that’s what I’m here to do right now. Check up on you that is.”
Will snapped his mouth shut, trying to stop the word-vomit from getting worse. He had a flight-or-flight look in his eyes, as if how Nico responded would be the deciding factor in how this interaction went. He wished Will hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t pin down the exact reason why he liked hearing that incoherent mess of speech, but he did. It took a bit longer for him to realize that while he was brain was occupied by the rambling of the boy across from him, it was too full to waste energy on worrying.
Nico tried -really tried- to think of something comforting or cringe-reducing to say but he could help it when a laugh slipped out.
And another. And one more. And five seconds later he was miserably failing to stifle his giggles with his left hand.
“Wha-“ Will started. “What is it? Are you ok?Did one of my siblings but you on laughing gas or something? It was Kayla wasn’t it?!”
This made Nico laugh even harder. “Oh gods no. You’re just really weird. In a good way. You kept on saying more and it made it get worse and worse.” He laughed again. “Thank you for that. Holy hades I needed a good laugh.”
Will didn’t even flinch when Nico described his little speech as pathetic. If anything, it seemed to make him more confident. Composed. “Well I’m glad you feel joy at my expense,” he said rolling his eyes. “And you have a pretty laugh too. I like hearing it.” He smiled at Nico, his gaze moving to the glow between them.
Oh right.
Stop getting comfortable. Especially with him.
Nico shifted in his seat, moving so his arms are crossed with his left ring-finger covered by his arm. He failed to avert his gaze from Will’s disappointed eyes.
See? Even if it weren’t wrong, you could never be with him. You fail everybody, and Will is no different.
A few beats of silence.
“So uh… checkup?” Nico suggested.
“Yes! Right. Let me just…” he trailed off. Something about clipboards and procedures that Nico did not have to energy nor interest to pay attention to.
Will got the information he needed. Apparently a lot of Nico’s story was already in the documents.
“Like I said: I know your history,” Will stated with faux-intimidation. Nico rolled his eyes.
When they got to the physical checkup Nico started getting jittery. He felt awkward saying something to Will about it, but he really didn’t like being touched so much. Especially because Will’s hands were so… methodical. It was bringing him back.
To the times of your torment? Good. Revel in it. In the feeling of pain. Relive it all. Maybe if you look tortured enough somebody will even pity you. Why do you think you want that so badly? You know how hard it is to be yourself. Trying to share that burden with somebody else is plain selfish.
Will noticed. Probably. He didn’t point it out, but he tried to lighten the mood, albeit with terrible references to things Nico did not have the current cultural knowledge to understand.
Something about Nico being “Mr. Perfectly Fine” when asked about he was feeling. Or responding to Nico’s remarks about his werewolf scratches with saying, “oh! ‘Tis but a flesh wound I see!” (He seemed really proud of himself with that one). And he kept calling Nico a “padawan”? What even was that?
Yet, despite the utter confusion that had overtaken Nico, it was a good distraction. Will had or hadn’t brought a laugh out of him a couple of times. Nico was or was not starting to feel a lot more comfortable, especially with Will around.
And the string they shared absolutely was not glowing more warmly with each passing moment they spent together. Of course not. Never.
~~~
After that checkup, Nico offered to help around the infirmary. He did this, of course, hoping that his complete lack of any medical knowledge and “aura of death” would be enough for Will to refuse the offer.
He did not.
Figures.
What Will did do however, was introduce anyone and everyone imaginable to Nico. Whether that be random patients, his siblings, his Roman siblings that he (being the social-magnet-golden-retriever that he was) had gotten close with after the war, or some poor soul that happened to be within the vicinity of the two of them. It was weird. Nico didn’t know how to feel. Nobody had treated him like a person they could show others to. He was usually hidden away. Chose to keep himself hidden away.
Nico was starting to like being seen though. It helped that Will was there too. Unlocking the prison of isolation Nico had made for himself and dragging him into interactions when they were in the middle of filing paperwork. When he introduced Nico to a new person, he almost sounded proud. Like knowing Nico was something they could envy about Will.
“Oh hey [person] have you met my friend Nico?” Will would say. “Yeah he’s the coolest kid in camp! Go on Nico say hi,” pride radiating from his voice. “We met a few days ago when he almost stabbed me haha. He really saved my skin out there. Even if he was seconds away from passing out while doing it.”
Nico would never admit it, but he kind of liked the attention Will was giving him. It was as if Will’s words of affirmation were able to fight off the self-doubt demons would otherwise occupy much of Nico’s thoughts.
Not only that, but he also liked meeting people.
Yes. Him. Nico di Angelo. The son of Hades. Well known social recluse. Enjoying the communion of others.
Was that new? He thought he was an introvert to the core. The idea of people was supposed to make him want to hide under a rock a perish. Was it just that he was so much of a social outcast that he fooled himself into thinking that?
Dear gods, he was not going to spend the time going down that rabbit hole any further.
Nico felt a tug on his string finger. Will had started doing that in order to touch Nico without touching him. Nico hadn’t decided yet how he felt about it. Well, his heart obviously had, but he’s choosing to ignore that stubborn organ in all matters pertaining to Will. He looked up, slowly bringing himself back to reality.
Back to the storage/office room they were (as Will had put it) “chillin’” in. Back to the smell of antiseptic spray and old files. Back to the blonde idiot staring into his soul, seemingly trying to solve a puzzle.
“…what?” Nico broke the silence.
Will stared for a beat longer. “You were staring off into space for a while. Are you ok?”
He thought for a moment too long.
“Yes,” was the response Nico decided on.
Will stared even deeper with a curious look. “…ok… sure. What were you thinking about then?”
Nico was just about to bark out a basic response of “oh nothing”, or something like that, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to hold himself back. Not when Will was looking at him in that eager and open way that he does.
“I was thinking about how much in my life has changed,” since you entered into it, “in the past few days.”
Maybe he didn’t say the whole truth, but Will was enough to make him no outright lie.
“Really?” Will backed off some, face turning from questioning frown to genuine smile. “How so?”
Oh. So this was gonna be some cheesy heart-to-heart, was it? Nico was not opposed to that idea. He looked back up at Will’s bright expectant eyes.
He actually rather liked the idea.
He talked to Will. He was trying to keep it short (Will was always busy) but the more he talked, the more they kept talking. And talking. And talking. Somehow they moved from life the last few days to life in the past few years. Family, in all possible definitions of the word. Friends, in all their shades, hues, and complexities. Enemies, in all their surprising humanity.
Will’s voice changed depending on what he was saying. He slurred together his words when they were talking about old interests. He would pause or stutter when they transitioned to deep topics, and slowed down when they got comfortable there. His voice got all jittery and slightly more high pitched when he was excited about something.
And the way he listened… the way it felt like he hung onto every word Nico said like it was written in scripture…
Nico kept wondering when Will would leave. He would find some excuse about having to check up on a patient, or outright say he didn’t want to stay there.
Wouldn’t want to stay with you. Why would anyone want to spend time with you. You’re boring him and he will leave you—
But Will hasn’t left. How long has they been there? They sat down on a nearby desk a while ago. Will was still with him.
Will, talking about his mom and how much he misses her. Will, listening to Nico’s stories of his childhood in Italy. Will, leaning into the beats of silence that would occasionally fall between them with a rare comfort. Will, inching closer to Nico with each passing second. Will, making their string glow impossibly brighter with the effect he had on Nico. Will, coiling the string around his fingers until there was no space between his and Nico’s hands. Will, cutting himself off mid-sentence just to graze Nico’s hand.
Will. Will. Will.
How long had it been? It was dark outside. Not that Nico cared. In the moment all that Nico cared about was right by his side, chatting animatedly, listening with care, leaning against Nico as he got more tired. Nico couldn’t imagine falling asleep now. His heart was beating so fast one would think he was about to be killed by some monster.
For some reason this moment felt more important than any of those past life-or-death experiences. He was safe. Nobody was in danger. But all those times he was fighting to live. Now he’s living to be alive.
With Will.
He looked over at the boy now resting on his shoulder and smiles. His mouth slightly open and he’s just barely snoring. It’s adorable. Nico’s heart warms with affection.
Affection. He liked using that word in this moment. He smiled.
He liked using that word for Will.
~~~
The Apollo Cabin did not cut him any slack when he brought a sleeping Will back in a bridal carry late into the night.
~~~
“Hey! It’s Mr. Perfectly Fine!” Will exclaimed to his siblings when Nico had entered the infirmary office.
Nico had caught a glimpse of Will hunched over his desk, with an exhausted expression written on his face just as Nico had walked in. It seemed like he was talking to his siblings, Kayla and Austin, about how he can “totally handle all this work” and that he’s “not burnt out”. They however, were willing to drop that conversation to snicker at Nico regarding whatever it was Will had just said.
“Seriously? You have no other jokes,” Nico retorted. “What is that referencing? I’m convinced you’re making it up at this point.”
“Oh please, at this point it’s your fault for not being a part of the Taylor Nation,” Kayla chimed in.
“I’ve been here for two days!”
Kayla crossed her arms. “That’s two whole days of Taylor Swift that you could have been listening to.”
Nico rolled his eyes and looked to Austin, the one person left who hadn’t taken a side against him.
“What?” He responded. “They’re right. All the effort you’ve made to avoid Taylor Swift is really some Kanye behavior.”
Nico hated his past self. Why did he decide to start hanging out with the Apollo Cabin? They were one mess of snarky comebacks joined together by their obsession over various musicians.
“I’ve been helping out! Would you really rather have me be wasting oxygen while listening to Swift?” Nico asked the cohesive mass.
“Yes!” They all shouted in (a partially harmonized) unison.
Nico groaned and sat on the chair he had placed next to Will’s desk the last time he was in this office. He’s only been here for three days and yet he has a spot for him. Next to Will.
The siblings talked about some infirmary stuff. Work schedules, post-war stuff, some new Roman ailments they learned about. Nico tuned it out, picking at his hangnails.
Some time later, the door Nico had just come through slammed open with an uninterested Drew Tanaka on the other end.
“Hey shitheads! I need drugs!” She said.
Nico raised an eyebrow at her and turned to look at Will, hoping he would translate.
Without looking up from his desk, Will rolled his eyes and said, “Sweet baby Zeus, can’t you just say ibuprofen like a normal person?”
He pushed back on his chair to get up, but Kayla pushed him right back.
“Nuh-uh. I’ve got this. You stay here and take a break with your,” she looked at Nico, “dude-best-friend.” She winked at him.
She headed out the door, with Drew on her heels.
The three left in the room looked at each other. A silent conversation played out between Will and Austin that lasted for much longer than a silent conversation has any right to last. Nico was glad to not be involved in it, whatever it was.
Austin sighed. “I guess I’ll go with them to make sure they don’t blow anything up.”
“Again,” Will added.
With a quick finger-gun-snap to his brother, Austin left.
The door creaked it as it closed.
“Wait,” Nico put his elbows on the desk. “How many explosions have they caused?” He thought for a second. “How do they even cause explosions to happen?”
He waits for a second more. Will is writing something down. Nico probably shouldn’t have interrupted by talking. He needed to be more conscious about his actions. Especially now that he is friends with Will. What was it Kayla said? “Dude-best-friend”? Yeah. He needed to be a better dude-best-friend. Not that they were “best friends”. It was probably just some slang or something. If they were even considered to be best-
Thunk.
Will face-planted onto his desk.
“Shit.” How long had he been working? “Are you ok?”
Will held up a hand to give a thumbs-up before dropping it back down to his desk. Will started snoring.
Nico knew there was a right way to react to this. Will probably had the answer for him. But Nico couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but stare. Stare and think. Like he was moving in slow motion but the rest of the world wasn’t kind enough to take note.
Was this normal for Will? Did he just collapse at his desk from time to time? No. He was always preaching his gospel of “taking care of yourself” and whatnot. This had to be a one-off thing.
He’s probably fine, right? Sure, he’s probably a little bit burnt out, but it’s not life and death or anything.
Yeah good idea. Bury your problems. Maybe one day you’ll share a grave with them.
How could he even think like that? “Not life and death,” so many things are not life and death but they are still worth worrying about.
Nico is a terrible friend. He needs to be worrying more about Will. Will needs help.
And how the hell do you expect to help him? Name one time you weren’t a burden to somebody. Every time you try to do something it fails. Just stop.
Gods. He was pathetic. His friend was passed out in front of him, and he was standing there, frozen. He should do something. He needed to do something. He just. He- he had to-
You always let people down. You’re too pitiful to help anyone.
No! He could help!
Will laid there fully unaware of the warfare happening in Nico’s mind. Someone looking in would likely find his state of rest to look peaceful. He was just a tired kid doctor in a tiny room filled with papers and files.
Outside that room was a couple of teenagers bickering about ibuprofen and explosives. It was a conversation severely lacking in context for the onlookers not in said conversation.
Even further beyond there were children doing dangerous and mundane activities. Somewhere a kid first encountered a monster. A man proposed to his girlfriend to the joy of an entire restaurant. A man proposed to his boyfriend to the shock, disgust, and joy of a small park. A child wrote a letter that never got read to her father fighting in a war. A species that was never discovered went extinct. A group of teenagers got high on the roof of a parking lot. A tired mother decided to quit smoking for the third time that year. A grandparent met their first grandson.
And back in that small room with too much paper and a sleeping boy, a damaged kid sees nothing but the worst of it.
Nico’s mind is a tunnel with no light at the end; flashing horrors crowding it out and letting no logic or hope in.
This was life-or-death. If Nico didn’t do something, he would be responsible for whatever happened to Will.
Will would know what to do. If Nico just knew Will better. If he just payed a bit more attention while Will worked. He must have been a terrible friend, having not cared enough to know how to handle this.
Finally, something you’re right about.
Gods! How could he even be drowning in this self pity now? Will needed help. He needed… caffeine? An intervention? He needed something and Nico needed to help. He could help. He needed to help. He needed-
His hand met a warmth. He looked down to see his and Will’s hands touching. Nico didn’t know when he started reaching for his hand. He let it sit there for a few beats of tense, heavy, warm silence.
His fingers moved without his consent to gently coil their string.
People say that, for soulmates, strings are able to pass emotions. The way one touches their string and the feeling they have while holding it are felt by the person on the other side.
Nico could… send some comfort? The thoughts would have made him laugh in any other circumstance. Him. Being the bringer of comfort. But in this instance, he could. There wasn’t anything else he coulddo.
No you cannot. You will lead yourself to heartbreak.
Will groaned. Nico flinched.
His hand twitched to reach out. To let Will know that “I’m here”. That “you can talk to me”.
You can’t do that.
He couldn’t do that though.
You don’t know how to comfort people.
He didn’t even know how to comfort people.
Just look in front of you, you let this happen under your watch.
He’d let this happen.
And here you are thinking to yourself instead of doing anything.
Gods! He just needed to focus. Think of some solution.
Just think! Just think! Just think! Just-
A door opened and Nico’s throat dropped, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. Which was stupid. He knew that.
He uselessly held his hands up and backed up, turning to the door. His body was frozen as thoughts of the thousands of ways the next few seconds could go all competed for his attention. He was a deer in the headlights, weakly looking past the person who was on the other end of the door. They looked at the scene in the room and raised an eyebrow.
“Nico? What happened?” Austin asked.
Austin! Thank the gods! He can-
“Help.” Nico creaked. “I don’t know what happened. Will, he…” Nico cut himself off. His throat was so choked up it was barely letting him say anything. It hurt. He didn’t realize he was this close to tears.
Fucking baby.
Austin rushed to his brother’s side and after a few moments sighed a breath of relief. “He’s fine. Just exhausted.” He took a few moments to give Nico a worried look. “Are you fine?”
Nico couldn’t respond. His body was still in fight-or-flight mode. He could only hear the pounding of his heartbeat, so strong it was like it was coming directly from his ears. There was to much happening. He just needed to calm down. He also had to respond. He had to look normal. He had to help with-
“Everything is fine.” The mantra he repeated in his mind. “He’s just exhausted. He’s ok. I’m ok.”
No you’re not. No he’s not.
Austin just confirmed that there was nothing to worry about.
You just don’t care enough about Will to keep worrying for him.
“I’m ok,” he finally responded, voice even more shaky.
Austin made a doubtful look and walked over to a shelf, pulling out some ball. He handed it to Nico, placing it in a hand he had not realized was shaking until then. He squeezed it and it was cushiony, but firm.
“Breathe with me,” Austin said simply.
And they breathed together. Slowly in. Holding it. Slowly out. Holding it.
After a minute or so he asked “would you mind if I brought Kayla here too?”
Shrugging, Nico lied. “I don’t mind. I’m fine really.” Although he didn’t know why he was still trying.
“No, you’re not.”
Austin steps out of the room and sticks his head out the door, peering down the corridor. “Kayla!”
Nico heard a muffled, “What?! I’m busy!”
Again shouting back, “Just come over here please!”
Some shuffling. Some footsteps. “What’s up?”
Austin stepped aside and let her view the scene. Her eyes softened and she walked over towards where Nico stayed standing.
“Oh Gods Nico, what’s wrong?” She asked him.
He tried for a dry laugh. “Nononono I’m fine. I was just a little-“ he choked. He hopelessly tried to steady his voice. “Just a little worried for Will is all.”
Kayla’s eyes immediately went wide with panic at the mention of his brother’s name. “What happened? Is he ok?” She looked over to his desk.
Austin stepped up to his sister, putting a hand on her arm. “He’s alright Kay. Just a little exhausted,” he said. They looked like they were having a silent conversation for a moment after that ended when they both looked back at Nico.
“Do you want to sit and talk for a bit?” Austin eventually asked.
“It doesn’t have to be about anything important,” Kayla added. “Or anything at all. Like, if you need silence with company we got you. Or silence without company. Or company without silence. Or any other combination. Or some other secret option. Or-“
“Company without silence is just the first choice you said,” Austin interrupted
Kayla thought for a second. “It is, isn’t it? It feels like there should be more combinations of those words though.”
“No company with no silence.”
“Ok but does that actually make any sense? Unless you talk to yourself professionally you wouldn’t be alone and without silence.”
“I would say that I can be alone without silence. I’m an interesting guy, I have fun talking to myself.”
“Yeah well, you’re just lonely so-“
A laugh escaped from Nico. They both looked at him.
“Sorry,” he said, for once with a steady voice. “The way you guys talk to each other is really funny to watch.” It reminded him of how he was with Bianca when they were younger. They used to argue all the time, sometimes escalating into screaming matches. Their mother would always step in and say something wise and meaningful that completely went over Nico and his sister’s heads. If Bianca were both alive now, would it be like this? Would their arguments not be out of malice but sibling love? What would that have looked like with them?
Kayla rested an arm on her brother’s shoulder as he looked at her with fake disgust. “We are, aren’t we?” She asked him.
“I really don’t think you’re ‘funny’. If anything funny looking.”
Kayla walked over to a circular table and sat down. “Oh please. I’m the hottest sibling. No contest.”
Austin followed her, taking a seat for himself. “If that’s what you want to believe, I will let you continue living with that lie.”
Kayla scoffed and looked back at Nico. “Wanna join the order of the round table?”
Yes.
“I uh… Are you sure it won’t get in the way of,” he waved his hand around at the general vicinity, “infirmary duties?”
“Not really,” Austin answers. “We did rounds this morning and everybody just needs more time to heal with the meds and magic,” which he embellished with spirit fingers, “and we already gave them their afternoon doses. Unless there’s some random emergency-“
“Or Drew comes back demanding drugs again,” Kayla added.
“Or that, then we’re just chilling.”
Nico wanted to say yes.
Don’t fool yourself kid. They don’t want you there. You’re just being a burden. They seem to be having a great time without-
Nico squeezed the ball. He moved to the table. He smiled and they smiled back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note:
thank you so much for reading!! To that one person who commented on my last fic saying they needed more: thank you specificially. And I’m sorry specifically for you because the wait for the next one is going to be worse than a cartoon hiatus. Tho I’m actually going to be spending that time writing instead of feeling guilty for not writing to that’s a win.
also I have an Ao3 now so that’s cool
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