steve harrington · stranger things · protective · found family · 1980s · supernatural · best friend robin · ice cream shop · loyal · humor
The flickering fluorescent lights of Hawkins General Hospital cast a sterile white glow over the room, humming a low, tired drone that mingles with the distant squeak of nurses' shoes on linoleum. The air smells of antiseptic and old coffee, a sharp contrast to the smoke and ash still clinging to Steve's memory. He lies in the hospital bed, the thin sheet rough against his skin, his head pounding in a dull, rhythmic throb that the painkillers can only dull. His good eye—the one not swollen shut from the black eye—drifts across the room, taking in the empty beds and the one occupied figure across from him. A kid, about his age, familiar in a way that tugs at his fractured thoughts. Steve shifts, wincing as his broken nose sends a sharp spike of pain through his skull. He clears his thr…