A/N: Canon up until S01E07 - The Bathtub, when Brenner paid a visit to the Wheeler residence. This story is also on AO3 under Ethosa.

Steve Harrington leaned against his car, his hands shoved in his pockets.

It was November 18, 1983 at 3:23 in the afternoon, almost exactly a week since the Wheelers' disappearance. He was at Maple Street, in front of the Wheelers' residence. He's been visiting the past 5 days, ever since he's stopped hearing from Nancy. He knew it was kind of weird to hang out in front of his girlfriend's—ex—empty house, but he stopped caring about 3 days ago.

That's what he always did; not care.

…and it made him lose the first person he ever cared about.

If someone were to be asked what he looked like, they would've said he looked pensive, conflicted, maybe even a little bit lost—they would be right. For the first time in Steve Harrington's life, his face showed exactly what he felt.

The first days were a bit weird, as he tried to actively fight off the show of emotions his face made, and he sometimes ended up with a weird, crumpled expression, his bruises pulsating with pain as his face muscles tensed. So, he just stopped fighting, stopped not caring, and started caring a whole damn lot that it hurt.

How mundane it felt to hurt. It was almost natural—like he didn't spend years and years carefully avoiding getting hurt, and now, when he's finally hurting, it all came crashing down almost into place. It hurt, yeah, but most importantly it felt real. The prospect would have scared him shitless 3 weeks ago, but now, with Nancy and the rest of the Wheelers gone without a trace, his previous fears almost felt small and stupid; because this was scary.

But Steve Harrington always thought of himself as a bit of a coward.

With a hard swallow, he climbed back in his car and drove off.

One Week Later

Cold.

For the past few days, that was all Nancy Wheeler knew.

Shivering was almost normal, so was the constricting of her stomach, as did the tears that always threatened to flow out of her eyes—but cold always seemed to loom over everything, like a shadow that towered over her, except that the shadow was very much alive and always held her by the throat.

She took in a ragged breath, curling into herself more, as if she could. She's been walking around the woods for days, and have started tallying the days on her forearm, using the pen she carried everywhere; there were currently 12 lines on her wrist. It's what's kept her sane for the past few days, because she needed something to prove to herself that everything was real, and she was still alive.

Even though her parents weren't.

Even though she didn't know whether Mike and Holly was.

She saw the big, hollow, tree trunk she was currently lying in on the fifth day she roamed around the woods. She almost raced towards it, desperate for some semblance of a shelter. It had rained the day before, and she had dreaded the feeling of being soaked through the bone, as she woke up shivering and coughing. It didn't help that the repetitive pattering of the rain drops on her skin almost sent her on overdrive.

Her eyes snapped open at the unmistakable sound of crunching leaves a few feet away. Her breath hitched ever so slightly, making her clamp a hand over it. A terrifying chill crawled up her spine, as she desperately tried to still herself. She didn't even know why she was afraid, it's just that she was already reveling the fact that she hadn't encountered any trouble whilst galivanting through the woods, and just as quickly, the prospect of having to potentially face one at this moment—when she's weak, hungry, and cold—didn't sit well with her. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

But as fast as the sound came, it disappeared. Nancy slowly counted to three, to make sure, but no further sound came. She mentally debated with herself if she should sneak a peek outside her log, and ultimately decided that she literally didn't have anything else to lose, so she steeled herself to move from her position.

She took a deep breath, almost like bracing herself, and stood up on shaky legs.

She peered through the nearby trees after she snatched a rock from the ground, hoping to throw it to whoever the intruder was, not even paying mind of the prospect that maybe whoever crept on her log wasn't an intruder. Her heart thumped against her chest, fearful of the uncertain.

The woods were as silent as ever—then another crunch.

It seemed closer this time. She almost jumped when she heard it, only barely managing to steady herself. She glimpsed a flash of movement through the leaves of the bush across from her position, and adrenaline filled her senses. She raced to the position she deduced where the intruder was, intending to tackle it the ground, until—

Nancy didn't get the chance to stop herself when she came face to face with the brown eyes that were the same as hers.

"Oomf!" Mike grunted as the full weight of his sister crashed onto him.

As soon as they hit the ground, Nancy rolled off. "Mike!" she exclaimed, almost unbelievingly. She hastily stood up, her legs still shaking. She pulled her brother up, holding him at arm's length as she checked for injuries. "Are you okay?" she asked him, even though he looked a lot better than she did.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he answered, brushing his sister off. "I'm the one who should be asking you—"

"I've been so worried."

Mike blinked, stunned. He wasn't used to his sister's concerns. "L-Like I said, I'm fine," he said, his voice almost cracking. He's been pushing away whatever weight he's been feeling in his chest the past few days, and now a lump was forming in his throat. He swallowed hard.

Nancy stood facing her brother, her head swimming. "Good, that's good." She made a move and clutched his hand. "I'm—"

"It's okay. It's fine. We gotta go," said Mike, cutting off the potentially awkward conversation.

"What do you mean we gotta go?" asked Nancy, confusion written on her face. "Where have you been?"

"I'll explain when we get there, we just gotta go." He took in her condition, and deduced that maybe running wasn't the best way to go, so he settled in brisk walking. Mike didn't leave a lot of space for more questions, as he turned and tugged on the hand his sister held.

Nancy followed, reluctantly agreeing with her brother. She felt like she was floating, the adrenaline from before slowly fading. Little by little, she felt the cold creeping up her spine again, as she desperately tried to shake it off. She just tightened her hold on Mike's hand, only trying to pay attention on taking fast steps, letting him lead the way.

Mike felt his sister squeeze, and he knew she wouldn't last long. "Hey!" he almost shouted at her. "You have to say awake, okay?" He slightly turned his head back to sneak a look at her, feigning annoyance, even though his heart thumped against his chest. She looked too far from fine. "Come on, tell me what you've been up to," he coaxed her, attempting to keep her conscious.

She felt her throat dry. "It's been 12 days," she said, as if it explained everything.

Mike squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I know. I've been counting too," he said. He once again swallowed down the rush of emotions that came with that statement. "Where have you been staying?"

"Inside a log."

"Last time you had water?"

"Rain."

He felt his throat hitch. "Eaten?"

"Nothing."

Tears stung the corner of his eyes, and he hastily wiped them off with his free hand. He decided to pause the barrage of questions he sent his sister, guilt pooling in his stomach, focusing instead on pulling her as he walked.

"Holly?" Nancy's voice was so quiet, Mike almost didn't hear, but it didn't stop the hammer of emotions that pounded him.

After a few seconds of silence, he said, "I don't—" but he couldn't get himself to continue. He closed and opened his eyes, his jaw clenching. "I almost thought she was with you."

Suddenly, the world felt like it was crashing down. Nancy dropped on her knees, still clutching Mike's hand, as the tears she's been holding for the past 12 days came bursting out. She couldn't help herself anymore. She didn't mind that she accidentally kneeled on a particularly pointy rock. She brought her hands to her face, hoping to shield out the sobs, but it did little.

She didn't even notice herself apologizing repeatedly, and Mike knelt in front of her, his head down, his hands on his lap. His bottom lip trembled, and he wanted to wail and sob, but he allowed his sister this moment. So, he just knelt in front of her, reveling in their grief together.