Chapter Text
Nancy believes that you can’t judge a book by its cover-there’s always a story underneath. Still, as she and Jonathan sit on the lawn chair by the Harrington’s pool, she admits to him that she hadn’t given him much thought. Jonathan tilts his head in silent question, a language Nancy can still read, even after almost a year apart. Even though they’re almost strangers now. What changed, he asks, and Nancy tries to collect her answer. She remembers when her epiphany started.
“Harrington, you say? Victoria and Stephen’s son?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Steve placed an armful of snacks for the kids on the dingy gas station counter.
“Strange, I could have sworn Vicky telling me the other day that their only child had been killed in a car accident.” Steve’s face went blank, and he gave a polite smile.
“Must be a different branch of Harrington’s.” Mary gave a similarly polite (if slightly confused) smile in return.
“I suppose so. Here you are…” Robin bit her lip, bringing her hand to entwine with his. Nancy is struck by how little she really knows Steve, despite the years and shared trauma.
She had been at Barb’s house for a sleepover, at home with the light pink walls, spelling bee ribbon (that spelling bee had almost broken their friendship), romance novels hidden under the bed, and a neat desk the way she was in her own room.
“Let’s play MASH.” Barb covered her mouth to hide the smile Nancy knew was there. Nancy grabs a piece of paper from Barb’s perfectly neat desk, not a pencil out of place.
“Aren’t we too old, I mean we’re almost in high school.”
“One last time before we become Hawkin High’s most eligible bachelorettes.” They both laughed.
“Ok, M.” Barb wouldn’t let Nancy see the list until she’s done writing.
Marriage-Sylvester Stallone, Michael J Fox, Tommy P, Steve Harrington
House-Creel House, Mansion, Castle, Trailer
Kids- one, three, five, two
Location-Hawkins, Hollywood, New York, or Farmers
“Alright, I’ll do you first.” With scissor-like efficiency she had cut through the lists.
“Mmm, no Michael, no Trailer, not five, not Farmers.”
“Thank God. Does Farmer’s even count as a town? There’s four houses in the whole town. Hawkins is small enough, thank you.” Barb continued her counting, brow furrowed and tongue sticking out.
“Voila! Your future, Nancy Grace Wheeler; is this. You will live in the Creel house in Hollywood with your child and husband-” She paused for dramatic effect, glasses glinting in the fluorescent light.
“...Steve Harrington!” They both burst into laughter.
“Imagine, Barb. Me, and “King Steve!” He may be hot and popular, but there’s nothing under that hair, and he’s friends with Tommy H and Carol. He’d never even look at me.”
“He is hot though. Like a fairytale prince.”
“Yeah, but that’s all he is. A fairytale.” Barb snorted and nodded.
A week of dating and Nancy still couldn’t believe she was dating Steve Harrington. The two walked through the halls without having to look down.
“So, my mom absolutely loves you. Any tips on how to charm your parents?” He was briefly frozen, suspended in fear. Then, like one of Holly’s dolls, his face smoothed out in a placid smile.
“They’re pretty busy Nance, that might not be until our-uh, for a while.” He had put his arm around her shoulder (Barb swooned when she heard) and asked her about her English paper. Nancy accepted the subject change without complaint, but she was a hound that had just smelled blood. She had realized there was something strange about Steve Harrington.
They had been dating about two weeks, and Steve had been joking, stretching his arms up so his shirt rode up. Right on his rib cage was a jagged pink scar.
“Hey Steve, what happened there?”
“I got my appendix out a while ago. No need to worry nance.” He was smiling, an airy tone to his voice, but he looked so terribly tired for a moment.
“I guess our study sessions need to increase, your appendix is right here.” Nancy pointed to her abdomen. The bell had rung then, so Nancy had gotten distracted by her upcoming math test, and Steve would ask her and Barb to come to his house party the next day. After that, Steve’s mystery didn’t seem important.
She had seen his house. It was huge, ornate and austere, and Nancy understood why it was called ‘castle Harrington.’ It could be yours, her mother’s voice whispered in her ears. You’re a smart girl, sweetie, you know this is the perfect life. You’d be a fool not to want this. Nancy smoothed her hair. But she did want it, she told herself. This is all she could possibly want.
“You want anything else to drink baby?“ his voice almost echoed.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“So, what’d your mom make?”
“Wha-oh! Chicken alfredo. Brain food, right?”
“So, where is she?”
“My mom? Uh, maybe New York?” He ran his fingers through his hair, smiled sheepishly.
“I thought she was gone yesterday too?”
“Uh, I guess.”
“So, you made this?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” It’s strangely good, like Steve cooks a lot. Nancy figures that’s how he gets all the girls.
“Well, you’re full of surprises. Not just a pretty face then Steve? I was pretty sure you were while we were studying.” Steve laughed.
“Nah, let’s face it. I’m nothing without this.” He smooths down his hair and laughs again.
Nancy was sure now. Steve Harrington was nothing but an asshole. Calling her a slut even though he’d slept with half of Hawkin’s female population. Calling Jonathon all those awful things. So selfish he cares more about getting in trouble with his daddy (a week with no car?) than her best friend being gone. He deserved that broken nose. She was sure now. Steve had an empty heart under those abs.
Nancy wasn’t sure anymore. Steve was still the asshole Nancy had figured him out to be. But. He had saved them from the demogorgon. With a nail bat. And he had tried to apologize. It was all too much. The monster under the bed was real, and it had killed her best friend. She supposed Steve wasn't all that significant in the grand scheme of things. He tried, after all. That counts for something.
She wasn’t hysterical. Her best friend was killed by an eldritch horror, and she was what, supposed to move on? Drink a beer and have a good time? No. There was no way in hell she would just ignore, let it go, let her go. She’d go to the upsidown if she had to. Why couldn’t Steve see that? How could he just pretend? Even though he’d never liked Barb he could see that she had. Was he so selfish and narrow minded that he just wanted to have fun? Having fun was what got her here. Barb was going to get out of here, make something of herself, what were Steve’s big plans? Work for his dad, never leave, never go anywhere? Nancy needed another drink.
She was never drinking again. Fuck, her head hurt. Nancy was sticking to coke from now on. She spotted him, slinking in the hallway.
“Hey, Steve?” He looked at her, and for a moment Nancy could have sworn she saw fear in his eyes.
“What do you want, Nance?” She had reeled.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“You don’t…you don’t remember.” He had kept his face carefully blank.
“Remember what? What happened at the party?”
“Nothing. Forget I said that. Let me walk you to class.” Nancy had forgotten very little in her life, especially when a mystery was involved. But for the second time in her life, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. She was tired, and it was Steve. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been as important as getting answers.
She slept with Jonathan. What was she going to tell Steve? For a brief, terrible moment, she thought maybe she wouldn’t have to. Steve would believe her, no questions asked. She shook the thought off. That wouldn’t be fair to any of them. No matter how much she wanted to, none of them could go back. Things were different now, and there was no use in pretending. Nancy knocked on the door.
“Nancy?”
“Steve, we…we have to talk.” Steve’s face had fallen then, and he had nodded swiftly, opening the door mechanically.
“Are your parents here?” She wasn’t going to break up with him in front of them.
“No.” Steve shifted, walking them to the couch. He looked at her, expectant and puppy eyed.
“I slept with Jonathan, at Murray’s. I’m so sorry Steve, I never meant to hurt you, and I understand if you don’t want to speak to me right now. Just…well, we were never going to last, right?” Nancy grimaced. She couldn’t remember her perfectly prepared speech. Steve had blinked quickly, devastation marring his face. He opened his eyes and schooled his face into pleasant indifference.
“That’s ok. I understand. You and Jonathan make way more sense, anyway. He gets your book references. Congratulations to both of you.” His jaw was clenched tightly.
“I really am sorry Steve. I…I’ll see myself out.” Steve nodded. And Nancy walked away.
“What are you doing here?” Steve stood upright at the sight of her.
“My mom said I had to take Mike.”
“Oh. Uh, cookie dough for him, strawberry for you?”
“Yeah, thanks.” When had he learned Mike’s ice cream order? She knew he had some weird bond with Mike's friends, but Mike hated Steve. Why would he remember? A teenage girl walks up behind him, carrying a whiteboard.
“Striking out again, Harrington?” She has a manic glee in her eyes at the thought.
“Already struck out with this one Robin, it doesn’t count.” Robin (she looked familiar) realized who the customer was, and smiled awkwardly.
“Hi Nancy, what can we get you? I’m Robin Wheeler-I mean Buckley, heh, guess the heat has melted my brain-“
“Mike wants cookie dough, there’s some in the back.” Steve smiled softly. Robin scurried to the back. Nancy is struck by the gesture. Was Steve dating her? She felt a weird twinge at the thought. Not jealousy, not that that they’re dating…but Nancy had never seen Steve smile that softly.
“How’s Jonathan?”
“He’s good. How’s your summer?” Steve raised his eyebrows.
“I’m working at Scoops Ahoy, it’s been smooth sailing here.”
“Well you’ll be off to college soon, right?” Steve smiled tightly.
“Guess you were right when you said my essay wouldn’t get me far.”
“One cookie dough and one strawberry.” Robin saves both of them from responding, handing them over and almost getting the ice cream on Nancy’s shirt.
“Good to see you Steve.” She can’t remember his response.
“You’re not.” Robin speaks in a low tone, but not low enough. Nancy is brought from her musings. Steve shrugged. .
“They’re going to disown me anyway. Whenever the fuck they get back.”
“Fuck Victoria and Stephen. We’re your family now.” Steve huffed in a way that sounds dangerously close to a sob. She tugged on his ear fondly.
“See you at work, dingus.” Nancy swallowed. It’s strange, being alone with him now. They’d been through hell together four times, and she didn’t know the song that would save him.
“Hey Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you get that scar on your rib?” Steve shrugged.
“Which one?” He snorted.
“The one from before we were dating.”
“Dunno, I’ve lost a lot of fights, even before the upside down.” It’s a lie, Nancy can tell. She took a breath, wondering how to phrase her next question delicately. In the end, she blurts it out.
“You weren’t kidding when you said your dad would kill you, were you?” Steve’s face goes slack like a marionette.
“I was like, 16, Nance. Everything I said was bullshit.” He winced slightly at the last word.
“Steve, there’s no shame-“ Steve wheezed a breath in a way that could be mistaken as a laugh.
“Of course you’d…just drop it.”
“Steve, you’re one of my best friends, if you’re being-“
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not worth the effort. Please, just drop it.”
“But you’re worth so much more!” Nancy set her mouth in a terse line.
“Yeah, the bully who peaked in high school is so important. Why do you care, by your own account I’m bullshit. That’s something I can accept, but don’t try and lie, Nancy.” Steve’s tone was dry and blank, like he was possessed. For a brief moment, she wondered if Vecna had risen from the dead, trying to torment them even more. But no, she had seen his corpse. El closed all the gates. This was a different kind of monster, one that can’t be defeated with telekinesis and a Molotov cocktail.
“Steve!” Dustin yelled from the car.
“Coming!” Just like that, he’s smiling.
“How long does it take to say goodbye, I’m growing grey hairs!”
“Should I be hurt he wants to go home so badly?” Steve rolled his eyes in a fond what-can-you-do way, and trotted off to his car.
“You shits need to learn patience.” His hip is cocked and he’s wagging his finger like a disapproving grandmother. If she hadn’t been there, she’d never guess the same man would call himself worthless less than a minute before. But Nancy had overlooked Steve.
“Nancy?” Jonathan touches her hand, gazing at his shoes, and she’s brought into the present.
“Sorry, I’m back. Steve always seems so ok, what kind of journalist can’t see one of her best friends has been struggling for years?” What kind of friend?”
“I don’t think Steve wanted to be seen. The upside down shit probably didn’t help.” He shrugs, contemplating. Nancy wants to shake him, force him to look in her eyes. She needs to know, if it’s worth it to play pretend like they are, like they aren’t shattering by the minute.
“Hey Nance, Jon, you guys ready to eat?” Nancy grabs Jonathon’s hand, purses her lips, and brings them into the house.
“You good?” Steve asks, and she feels a rush of familial warmth.
“We’re going to be.”