A/N: It's my headcanon that sometime while Steve was asleep, Hopper and Eleven talked about Terry and her given name, with Eleven deciding she wants to go by Jane. That's why the part of the second chapter from her point of view is still "Eleven" but later on, Hopper refers to her as Jane. The party is all going to call her Jane in this chapter, Steve a little later because it takes them a while to clue him into it. It's only done in passing if you'd prefer that everyone still calls her El! I'm just mentioning it because it's never explicitly explained, mostly because Steve is a pretty unreliable narrator, given that he's only awake for small snippets of action.

Thank you for all your wonderful feedback! It was more than I ever hoped for when I first posted this fic. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

"Shit, he looks worse than yesterday." The voice was loud, right next to Steve's ear, jarring him into semi-awareness. "Are we sure he's gonna be okay?"

Steve recognized the voice. It was one of the kids, he just couldn't say which.

"Sure he is," someone else said, though they sounded less than convinced. "It takes more than that to take out Steve Harrington."

Damn straight it did.

Knowing the kids were close, Steve opened his eyes slowly, so as not to frighten any of them—he had enough bruises on his face as is. Max, Lucas and Dustin were hovering over him with Dustin's face about six inches from his own.

The curly-haired kid pulled back sharply but then recovered and asked, "Hey Steve. How're ya feeling?"

"Just great," the teen lied as his body began to ache full-force. He looked at all three expectantly, waiting for them to move back now that he was awake.

They didn't.

"I'm gonna sit up now," Steve finally announced.

"Oh, sorry," the kids muttered, disappearing out of his line of sight.

By the time Steve had pushed himself into a sitting position, the three were lined up in front of the coffee table, looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Steve was instantly uncomfortable, not used to being the recipient of this much caring at any given time. "Stop it, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Lucas piped up.

"Neither do the rest of you, but you don't see me commenting on it." It was a little bit of an exaggeration as the kids didn't look any physically worse than the last time Steve'd seen them, but he was hoping that comment would be enough to get them to move on.

No such luck; the three continued to watch him anxiously, not saying a word.

After another moment, Steve couldn't take it anymore. "Don't you shitheads have anything better to do than stare at me?"

Max actually shook her head while Dustin just plopped down on the couch beside Steve. "Will stayed home from school today," he began even though no one had asked. "He's fine. His mom's just a little spooked."

"Understandable."

Suddenly Max was sitting down too, Lucas on her other side, and Steve was forced to shift over so there'd be room.

"He wanted to come over here too," Dustin continued, "but Mrs. Byers said no. But she did say to tell you, if you get tired of microwave dinners, you can stop by her place anytime."

"That's nice of her."

"And Max said Billy didn't come home last night."

Steve turned to look at the girl, who nodded slowly.

"He spent the night in jail," Hopper boomed from the other side of the cabin.

"He what?" Steve exclaimed, struggling to look over the back of the couch without further injuring his ribs or whacking one of the kids. It wasn't that Billy didn't deserve it, it was more that that was the most serious punishment he'd heard of Hopper dealing out in recent years.

By this time the chief had repeated his statement, Steve had managed to awkwardly lean on the back of the couch in a way that allowed him to see Mike, Eleven and Hopper playing cards without increasing his net ache.

His mind was racing with questions but, before he could vocalize any of them, Eleven played her last card, which elicited a loud groan from Mike, then declared, "He's a mouth breather."

"Hey!" Hopper put his hand on top of the discards, keeping her from pushing them toward Mike to shuffle. "What did we say about using that word?"

"Deserved it," Eleven mumbled unrepentant.

"He kinda does," Mike chimed in but was quickly silenced by a glare from Hopper.

The chief then returned to looking at Eleven, waiting for her to acknowledge his question. "Jane," he said, drawing out the syllables of her name.

Finally, she looked over at him and nodded. "Okay."

"That's my girl." Hopper ruffled Eleven's hair then swept in the cards and began to shuffle them.

Steve was just about to turn around to ease his aching ribs when Hopper added, "He'll also be seeing a therapist twice a week for a while."

"He what?" Now it was Max's turn to spin around to look incredulously at Hopper.

"He'll be seeing a therapist to work out a few things," the chief repeated calmly as he began to deal out a new hand.

Max's face darkened then suddenly Lucas cried out in pain.

"How could you?" she demanded. Her voice was a little wobbly but her face was turned away from Steve so he couldn't see her expression.

"I didn't say anything!" Lucas shouted, rubbing at his arm.

"It didn't some from any of you," Hopper said loudly, cards down in case he needed to intervene. "Flo has a knack for hearing these sorts of things." The chief was quiet for a beat then added, "But, if you did have something to say, I hope you'd feel okay telling me about it. Not today, not even next week, just...sometime."

Max turned back to look at him, a glisten in her eyes, and nodded.

"Sorry stalker," she mumbled as she righted herself on the couch, Steve a split second behind her.

"'sokay," Lucas said, seconds before Max's chin began to wobble.

Steve tilted his head slightly, motioning for Lucas to comfort her but the kid's eyes only widened in panic. Wondering how this was his life, the senior sighed and slung his arm around Max's shoulders. "It'll be okay Red. I'll give you my number; you can call me if things get bad."

"Or me," Eleven piped up in the background, sounding slightly gleeful.

"No, absolutely not," Hopper said firmly but Steve got the sense he was talking more to Eleven than him.

A chair screeched behind them a beat before Hopper rounded the couch and pointed at Max, mouth open to deliver some sort of lecture. But then, his expression softened and he let out a deep sigh. "At least try to call a law enforcement official first. Powell and Callahan aren't the brightest but they are surprisingly good at stopping people from hurting others."

"I'll be a last resort," Steve added when the girl still didn't look reassured.

At that, Max smiled wanly then leaned further into Steve's embrace.

For about a second.

"You smell," she said, wrinkling her nose and pulling back, all indicators that she had been about to cry gone.

"After all I did for you shitheads, that's all you have to say to me?" Steve fired back with mock indignation. In all honesty, he was more than happy for the return to a lighter subject since Harringtons were statistically terrible at feelings. Just in case her meter was broken though, Steve smiled as widely as he could to let her know he was kidding. Kinda.

He yanked at his blanket which the kids were all sitting on, forcing them to their feet. "Go bug Eleven—"

"—Jane—" a chorus interjected.

"—Jane, you ungrateful twerps."

The kids nodded, then Max and Dustin headed over toward the kitchen, only looking back once. Lucas however remained standing in front of Steve, fiddling with his hands.

"Do you need something?" Steve said, wincing when he sounded short, gruff, and not unlike his father.

Lucas opened his mouth, closed it, then shifted his weight back and forth nervously.

"Seriously man, is everything—"

"Thank you," the kid blurted out, before dashing around the couch and joining whatever mayhem was happening on the other side of the cabin.

Steve stared at the newly vacated space for another moment until his brain caught up with what had happened. More emotionally tired than physically, he braced his elbows against his knees, and rested his head in his hands, mindful of the intense throbbing.

"Do you need anything?"

Steve jerked upright at the sound of Nancy's voice, finding her standing awkwardly between him and the broken TV. "How…Where…"

"Do you really think the kids should be wandering around the woods by themselves?" she countered.

"Hell no. Little shits are going to get in trouble just walking to the grocery store."

Nancy smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes, and nodded. Then she pointed to Eleven's room. "Jane let me study in there. I didn't want to overwhelm you while the kids were still around."

Steve only nodded, unable to think of anything to say. Nancy apparently couldn't either and the conversation dissolved into silence.

After a minute of awkwardness, Steve motioned to the couch, pulling in the blanket even more so there'd be room for her. "Wanna sit?"

She nodded then perched on the other side of the couch from him.

"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice slightly higher than it should have been.

She looked at him and actually laughed. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'll be fine. Chicks dig scars right?"

Nancy scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Not as much as you think."

"Damn." Steve let a beat pass before trying again. "Seriously, though, you alright? It can't have been fun sweating the monster out of Will."

Nancy didn't respond right away, instead taking a long look around the cabin. "No, it wasn't," she said almost absently, before turning to look back at Steve. "But I'll be okay."

Then she swallowed hard, looking extremely distressed. "Steve…"

"Not right now, Nance," he interrupted, holding up his hand for emphasis. He was far too exhausted for that conversation at this moment. "I know we need to, but I can't right now."

She stared at him for another moment before nodding. "Okay," she said, looking more than a little relieved.

Before either one of them could speak again, Steve heard dice being rolled, followed by loud cheering.

"Are they really playing a board game?" he asked, incredulous. In hindsight, he should have expected that from the party who loved playing D&D but...actually, there was no 'but'. He really should have expected them to do something other than homework at Hopper's cabin, this being their real first chance to see El—Jane in a year.

"Monopoly," Nancy reported after looking over her shoulder.

"Dear lord. They'll be here for hours."

Another awkward silence ensued with Nancy and Steve pointedly not staring at each other.

"I can study," Nancy finally offered. "I mean, I do have a big calc test tomorrow."

If Steve had learned anything over the last year of dating Nancy, it was that studying calmed her down in times of stress. Besides, she had to keep her grades up if she was going to get accepted into her dream schools. "Go for it," Steve said, thankful for the distraction.

She got up from the couch and walked back into Jane's room. To his surprise, she returned a minute later with her backpack and spread her calc stuff over the coffee table.

"You sure you don't want to sit up here?" Steve asked, pulling the rest of the blanket into his lap so she'd have space for her stuff. "There's plenty of room."

She shook her head. "Nah, I need the table. Besides, you should probably lie down. You're not looking so good."

"Thanks Nancy," he said with a snort, grimacing when his nose began to throb.

Thankfully, she hadn't noticed and instead lobbed an eraser at his chest. "You know what I mean. You need rest."

He had known but it'd been too good of an opportunity to pass up. Besides, if he was being completely honest, his head was starting to hurt a little. Probably from being focused on more than one conversation in the last half hour.

Steve tossed back the eraser, silently conceding her point, then leaned back against the sofa, leaving plenty of room in case Nancy changed her mind. As he listened to the loud exclamations from the kids in the background, he allowed his eyes to slip closed…just for a second.

Then someone was kissing his forehead, dragging him back into semi-consciousness. "Thank you," Nancy whispered, right next to his ear.

Someone else was ruffling his hair. "Get well soon buddy." That was Dustin. "P.S. Your bat is by the door."

"Okay guys, leave him alone," Hopper said and suddenly the sounds were gone.

Sleep was pulling on Steve again and this time he gave in willingly, feeling more at home than he had in a long while.

Epilogue:

To say Steve's mom freaked out when she saw his face was an understatement. Even though he'd washed what wasn't cut or stitched before they'd left the cabin, his mom still gasped, hands pulled tight to her mouth, then enveloped Steve in a hug that left him struggling to breathe.

Thankfully Hopper intervened once Steve started turning purple.

Caroline then demanded an explanation and Jane, taking advantage of Steve not being able to catch his breath, launched into a sanitized account of how he'd saved her friends. Since the rehearsed story had been the one about Steve getting mugged, both Hopper and Steve had stared at Jane in surprise but she just nodded firmly, then slid back under Hopper's arm.

"Oh honey," Steve's mom breathed, her eyes watering as she gently rested her hands on either side of Steve's face. Then she turned to Hopper, hands moving down to tightly grasp Steve's wrist. "Does he need to see a doctor again? Does he need to take medication? Do—"

"Maybe in the house, mom?" Steve suggested, as they were only a step away from the truck.

Caroline nodded and formally invited them in. While Hopper and his mom talked, Steve saw Jane looking around and offered her a tour. They'd barely seen any of the house before hitting the office but, once Jane had entered, she pretty much refused to leave. The room wasn't very large but had one floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase that Jane ran to right away. Most of them were finance-related or books above her reading level, but she sunk into an arm chair and paged through a few all the same.

When it was time for them to go, Hopper practically had to push Jane out of the house. "You can come back any time," Steve told her, causing her to grin, before climbing back into the truck.

Hopper didn't say anything in opposition, which Steve counted as a small win for the day. "You know how to get a hold of me if you need anything," the chief said to Caroline as he started the truck and pulled away.

Steve stayed home from school the next two days: the first because he couldn't focus on anything without feeling like something was stabbing his brain, and the second because his mom had been terrified by the pamphlet Hopper had passed on about concussions and the dangers of going back to normal activities too soon. Steve had complained just enough to be believable before surrendering and spending the day hanging out with his mom, catching up on what little bits of schoolwork he could manage before his brain started to hurt.

That day, his mom also took him to the family doctor who confirmed everything Wilkin had said three days ago. Steve had known he was probably going to be out of sports for a while, but that didn't make it hurt any less when Dr. Travis officially confirmed it. Travis also told him to expect to miss the first few games of the season, which wasn't ideal, but Steve had been through enough in the past week that he wasn't up for risking trying to get back early. He was going to need his brain firing at full capacity to keep up with all the supernatural happenings in Hawkins.

And so the days passed while Steve slowly but steadily returned to his normal life. Just before Thanksgiving, he was cleared to practice full-speed again, and the very next morning, Hopper called, telling him to stop by the cabin when he was free. Unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, Steve drove out there right after practice, stopping only to pick up his spiked bat…just in case.

As soon as he walked through the doorway, Hopper handed him a box. "If you're going to keep throwing yourself into fights, you need to know how to defend yourself," he said without preamble.

Confused, Steve flipped open the lid to find a padded helmet, boxing gloves and a mouth guard.

"Lessons start Saturday at 8," the chief stated before walking into the kitchen to try to fix dinner.

Steve just smiled, a familiar warmth spreading through his chest, then he put down the box and offered to chop the vegetables.

Thank you again for all your wonderful emails, kudos, and reviews! It's been a pleasure writing in this fandom! I'd love to know what you thought of the final chapter on your way out!

Until next time,

usa123