Title is from "Hammer to Fall" by Queen, which is the song playing at the beginning of 2.06 ("The Spy") when Steve and Dustin discuss d'Art.

When the car lights die back down to their usual brightness, Steve steps forward. "Okay," he says, "does anyone have a way to contact the others?"

The kids all look at each other guiltily, which apparently means no.

"Did anyone think to leave a note at the Byers' house about where we were going?"

No one's willing to meet Steve's eyes. Dustin shifts his weight from leg to leg.

Steve groans, half from irritation and half because his head really hurts. "Great," he huffs. "So there's no way anyone's coming to get us."

"We have the car," Max points out timidly.

"Which you are not driving again," Steve tells her immediately. "No way."

"Can't you drive?" Mike asks impatiently.

He really shouldn't. Steve is pretty sure he's concussed, and his vision still isn't quite right, and now that the adrenaline is wearing off he's starting to feel very shaky. There's no way he should be behind the wheel of a car.

But it's either him or one of the kids, and at least he knows how to drive.

"Oh, what the hell," he mutters to himself. He's already almost died about a dozen times today, what's one more? "Come on, get in the car."

The kids all scurry over to the car. After some brief whispering amongst themselves, Dustin climbs into the front seat while the others scramble into the back. Steve opens up the driver's seat and is about to get in when he notices something on the pedals.

"Are those blocks?" he demands. "You taped blocks to the pedals?"

Max looks a little embarrassed. "I couldn't reach them."

"You couldn't even reach the pedals, Jesus Christ," Steve groans as he bends down to take the blocks off. He tosses them to the side and stands back up, then immediately leans against the car as his vision swims and his stomach threatens to revolt. Goddamn it, he's almost definitely concussed, and he really shouldn't be driving.

"Steve?" Dustin asks tentatively. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Steve replies. The kids need him. They can't just sit in this pumpkin field forever. He gets into the front seat and, on his second try, puts the keys into the ignition and turns them. He doesn't think that's too bad a success rate, considering how much his hands are shaking.

"You sure you're okay?" Dustin asks, looking a little concerned.

"Pretty sure. Just..." He picks up the map Lucas was using before and passes it to Dustin. "Make sure I'm going the right way, okay?"

"Okay," Dustin agrees dubiously. Steve should know where he's going, but all things considered, he's not entire convinced of his abilities to get them back to the Byers without help.

Steve pulls out to the road carefully, then begins driving back at a snail's pace. "Can't you go any faster?" Mike demands.

"Shut up," Steve retorts, partially because he doesn't need to take this shit from a thirteen year old and partially because his ability to concentrate is shot enough without distractions.

"But-" Mike starts to protest.

"Mike, shut up!" Dustin yells. "Steve, turn right here."

Steve takes the turn, blinking rapidly as his vision briefly goes double. At least there aren't any other cars on the road. That would be bad.

Despite how slowly Steve drives, they're still the first ones back to the Byers' house. Mike runs inside anyway, while Steve does his best not to pass out or throw up from the simple act of getting out of the car. Goddamn it, concussions are the worst.

Billy is unconscious on the floor when Steve finally manages to stagger into the house. "What should we do with him?" Lucas asks.

Steve is probably supposed to have an answer to that, but he has no idea what to say. He's not even sure how Billy ended up passed out in the Byers' living room. "Um..."

Luckily, Max pipes in before Steve has to say anything more. "We'll wake him up and make him leave."

Steve frowns. "Whoa, are you sure waking him up is the best idea?"

"He's not gonna mess with any of us anymore," Max says, sounding confident.

"Oh yeah, you missed it!" Dustin cries. "Max stabbed Billy with the syringe that had the sedatives in it, then she threatened to hit him in the dick with your bat."

Steve blinks. He's way too concussed to parse out that statement. "Okay." He waves a hand at Max. "If you think waking him up is the best idea, I trust you."

"How do we wake him up anyway?" Dustin asks.

Mike grabs a bottle of rubbing alcohol off the counter. "This is how the chief woke up Will," he says, soaking a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and tentatively moving forward to hold it under Billy's nose.

Billy wakes slowly. Steve stands behind the kids as Max tells him to leave, even though he doubts he cuts a particularly threatening figure, especially since Billy beat him up not too long ago. Still, apparently Billy is afraid of Max now, because he leaves the house with minimal arguing. Steve's pretty sure basketball practice will be even worse than it already was, but he can handle that.

"Okay," he says once Billy is gone. "Let's get this place cleaned up, like we were supposed to do earlier." He leaves the instead of running off to fight monsters unsaid but heavy in the air. The kids don't look particularly ashamed, but they get to work cleaning up. Steve washes his face in the kitchen sink - he's too jittery and shaky to go anywhere near the hallway, which he doesn't even like doing at the best of times - and then joins in as much as he can. He keeps having to stop and lean against the wall when he gets dizzy, but he's not gonna leave the kids to do all the work themselves.

The Byers and Nancy get back before the chief and Eleven do. The kids immediately flock to Will, who looks horrible but apparently is no longer possessed by the Mind Flayer or whatever Dustin was calling it. Nancy gives Mike a hug, then she sees Steve and her eyes go wide.

"What happened?" she cries, rushing to his side. "Oh my god, Steve, are you okay?"

"It's nothing," Steve dismisses, because his night has been shitty enough already without dealing with Nancy worrying over him. They're not together anymore, he can learn to accept that, but not if she pulls stuff like this.

"He was awesome!" Dustin cries. "He got his ass kicked, but he was still awesome."

"Billy came over, looking for Max," Steve explains tiredly. His voice slurs the tiniest bit. He knows he should say more, but his head chooses that moment to start spinning. He hopes it isn't obvious how much he's leaning on the wall.

Judging by the look on Nancy's face, it is obvious. "Sit down," she tells him, her hands fluttering around him nervously. "Do you have a concussion?"

"Probably," Steve replies, stumbling as he heads over to the couch and collapses into it. "Nance," he adds, grabbing Nancy's hand as she tentatively reaches for one of the cuts on his face, "it's fine."

"But-"

Steve jerks his head towards Mike, which is a bad move and immediately makes his head start to spin. He ignores that. "I think your brother needs you."

Mike is still staring at the door, his face getting more and more worried with every second that passes. Nancy bites her lip as she looks at him, then looks back down at Steve.

"I'm fine, Nance," he says yet again. "Go deal with your brother."

Nancy does, and Steve must drift off a little, because the next thing he's aware of, the door is opening and the chief is walking in with Eleven. "She closed the gate," Chief Hopper declares, and a wave of relief washes over the entire house.

There's blood on Eleven's face, and Mrs. Byers sits her down and wipes it off with a towel. Eleven is clearly exhausted, and Steve relinquishes the couch to her without a fight.

"What happened to you?" Hopper asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Steve replies, not wanting to talk about it.

Hopper frowns at him for a moment, then decides to let it go. "I think we're all staying here tonight. Joyce is getting out some spare blankets and pillows."

"Oh." Steve isn't sure how he feels about that idea, but he's definitely not in a fit state to drive anywhere. "Okay."

Sleeping arrangements are figured out with minimal arguing. Mrs. Byers takes Will into her room, and Jonathan takes Nancy into his. Hopper carries Eleven into Will's room and sets her down on his unused bed, and Mike threatens to throw a fit until he's allowed to camp out on the floor next to her. A pile of blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows is dumped on the living room floor, and Dustin, Lucas, and Max immediately claim it.

"Take the couch," Hopper tells Steve. "I'm probably not gonna sleep much anyway."

Steve doesn't have the energy to argue, so he flops onto the couch. There's no pillow or blanket, but he falls asleep anyway.

He's not sure how long he's been asleep, but sometime later he feels something being draped over him. His eyes flutter open and he sees Nancy tucking a blanket around him.

"Nance?"

"Shh, go back to sleep, Steve," she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead like he's a child. It feels like a benediction.

It feels like a farewell.

He wakes up early the next morning, before anyone else. Hopper isn't in the living room, but his car is still parked out front, so Steve assumes he's still somewhere in the house. The three kids on the floor are still fast asleep, draped over each other in a heap.

As quietly as he can, Steve gets to his feet. He feels better than he did last night, a few hours of sleep working wonders. He thinks he's probably okay to drive.

No one here would tell him to leave, he's pretty sure of that, but he doesn't fit in. He's only here because he happened to drive over to the Byers' house at the worst possible time last year, because Dustin couldn't get a hold of anyone else and chose him as a last resort, because someone had to watch the kids while the other adults had important things to do. It's probably best if he just leaves.

"Steve?" Dustin asks as Steve goes over to grab his coat. "What're you doing?"

"Go back to sleep, kiddo," Steve replies, but he's already found that these kids can be annoyingly contrary, so he's not particularly surprised when Dustin does the exact opposite and sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you leaving?"

The words shouldn't sound as accusatory as they do. Steve has every right to leave, now that the adults are back and no one needs a babysitter anymore. "I've gotta get home," he replies.

"No you don't," Dustin retorts. "You can just tell your parents you had a sleepover. That's what the rest of us are gonna do."

Steve's parents aren't even home to notice if he slept at his house or not, but that's not the point. "Sorry, dipshit, but I've gotta go."

"Who's going?" Max mumbles, blinking sleep out of her eyes as she raises her head. Lucas stirs next to her.

Great, now all the kids are waking up. Steve just wanted to slip out of here before anyone was awake to notice, but that's not happening. "I've gotta go," he tells Max, shrugging on his coat. "I'll see you little shits later, okay?"

"Everyone else is staying," Lucas says, sitting up. "You don't have to go."

"Yeah, but-"

Dustin gets up and grabs Steve's arm. "You're not going anywhere," he says authoritatively as he leads Steve back to the couch. "We're all staying right here."

Steve looks from Dustin next to him to Max and Lucas on the mattress. They all look equally determined. Max has her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Dustin still hasn't let go of his arm.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Steve relents, hoping he isn't going to regret this later. "I'll stay."

He still isn't convinced it's a good idea, but the kids let out a cheer. He hushes them immediately - everyone else is still sleeping, after all - but maybe he smiles, just a little bit.