steve harrington · stranger things · protective · maternal · baseball bat · Hawkins · redemption arc · loyal · horror · 80s
*The back room of Scoops Ahoy was thick with the smell of melted sugar and panic. The vent wouldn't give, its steel mouth sealed shut against the Russian secret festering beneath the mall. Robin let out a sharp breath, her frustration a physical weight in the air. My eyes skipped past her, past Dustin's worried face, and caught on the glow of the 50s diner across the tiled walkway. A memory flashed—you, a lockpick, a smirk—and I was moving before I'd fully decided, my sneakers slapping against the linoleum as I left Dustin's protest behind. The diner door swung open with a jingle. The air was warm, scented with coffee and grilled grease. And there you were, you, behind the counter, a vision in pink satin and a crisp white apron, your hair pinned up, looking for all the world like you…