For the first time in weeks—months when he thinks about it—Steve has a Friday to himself. The kids don't need a ride anywhere. Mike had something with his family he couldn't get out of, so there won't be any game or movie with the group tonight. He could go to the cabin, but Hopper and El are supposed to be having a day to themselves and he doesn't want to interrupt.
Being alone is giving him too much time to think, though. He starts a movie but it can't hold his attention through the first scene. Homework is out of the question. Besides the fact that he doesn't see the point with graduation practically around the corner, there's no way he will retain anything that he tries to read right now. Imagining it is enough to give him the start of a headache.
"Fuck this," he says to himself, turning the movie off. He grabs his wallet and his keys and doesn't bother locking the door when he leaves the house. If anyone cares enough to break in, they're welcome to any of his parents' expensive things. Anything Steve is sentimental enough to not want to lose—a drawing from El and another from Will, a slingshot of Lucas' and his dice from Dustin—aren't valuable to anyone else.
The hum of the tires on the road and the steering wheel under his hands ease some of the anxiety swirling around in his chest. Turning his music up until he can't hear himself think, Steve sets off down the road. He doesn't have a destination in mind. It's enough that he's out, that he's moving. Not worrying about graduation or the future or any of it. Just driving past the houses in his neighborhood and in the opposite direction of town.
He doesn't know how long he's been driving when he sees an all too familiar teenager walking along the road. The urge to screech to a halt is almost too strong to ignore—what the hell is El doing out here, where anyone driving along could see her? The town isn't so small that everyone knows everyone, but people tend to be curious and concerned enough to pull over when they see a kid by themselves along the edge of the street.
Or maybe he's overreacting. She looks so young to Steve but she isn't. Not really. It isn't all that strange for a teenager to be out, even without their friends. But there's months before her last year of isolation is over. He knows that she knows better than to just go wandering.
Steve pulls up alongside her, car moving at a crawl. She doesn't startle or look surprised that it's him when he catches her eye. For all he knows, she saw that he was coming along this way and that's why she's so out in the open. He hopes that's what happened; he doesn't want anything to risk her chance at getting a normal life.
"Hey," he says when she pulls the door open and climbs into the passenger seat. "Seatbelt."
He expects her to roll her eyes but she doesn't. She pulls the seatbelt across her chest and buckles in, crossing her arms in front of her. Steve watches her for a moment, waiting for her to say something or even look at him. When she does neither, he nods and pulls back onto the street.
He turns his music down so that he can only just hear it. There is no sound but that and the hum of the car for a few minutes. Steve doesn't want to push. There are no rips in her clothes, he can't see any scrapes or bruises or even a runny nose. So long as she isn't hurting, he can give her the time she needs to feel like she can talk to him.
"We had a fight."
Steve drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "You and Hopper?"
He sees her nod out of the corner of his eye. She leans forward, curling in on herself and that's. That's not okay.
"Hey," he says softly, placing a gentle hand on her back. "It's okay."
She sniffs and rubs one of her eyes. So far he doesn't see any tears, but he's already wishing he had more than a couple napkins to offer her if she needs to cry. "Do you want to hang out at my house for a bit?"
She nods again, pressing back into his hand. "Please."
"Sure thing, kiddo."
It's a little hard to drive while rubbing her back, but the one time he tries to move it, El makes a noise that shoots straight through his heart. Rather than upset her, he drives more carefully than usual and gets them back to his house without any accidents.
Once she's sitting on the couch with the TV on and holding one of his mom's throw pillows, Steve calls Hopper. Or, well, uses the radio that Hopper gave him months ago so he could reach the cabin.
"Hey, Hopper," he says after he's clicked the code Hopper made him memorize months ago.
They don't use the radio often. It was a bigger deal right after the gate closed, but it isn't like the government isn't very aware of El's location. He could call from the house phone but he thinks it might be better to talk in private. His bedroom is a whole floor away from where El is waiting for him, rather than a room away like the kitchen would be.
It also allows him to get comfortable while he's using the radio. The springs in his mattress squeak when he sits on it. Must be about time to go looking for a new one, though he's had more important things on his mind this year. "She's with me."
A few seconds later he hears Hopper sigh, breath crackling in the speaker. "She okay?"
"Yeah, I think she knew where I was, you know? Came out when I got close. Listen, we're going to hang out at my house for a bit. But I'll get her back home tonight."
Hopper is quiet for a minute. Steve leans forward, elbows on his thighs, and rests the microphone to his chin while he waits. He can picture in his head Hopper running a hand across his face. Maybe digging the knuckle of his thumb into that spot on his forehead the way he does when he's frustrated.
"That's fine," he says eventually. He sounds tired. Not entirely surprising after what was probably one hell of a fight and the fear that followed after El was gone. At least she didn't take another bus to Chicago. "Thanks, Steve."
"Anytime." Steve glances at the door as though he'll somehow be able to see down the stairs from here. He doesn't want to leave her alone too long. Not because he thinks she'll leave—if she didn't want to be here, she wouldn't have let him see her on the road, he's sure of it—but because she's upset. It's hard enough being angry and hurt; it's worse when you're going through it alone. Steve has some experience in that area, though he hadn't realized exactly how much he was missing until this last year. Having people around you who care? Makes all the difference in the world. "I'll make sure she gets dinner before we head back. Hopefully not too late, though."
"If she needs to stay the night, if you're okay with that, I mean…"
"Sleepovers are great. She's always welcome," Steve says when Hopper trails off. "But I'll have her home tonight. Just gonna let her chill out for a bit first. Make sure you eat, too, okay? There should be some leftovers in the fridge if you don't want to make anything."
The line goes quiet, but not long enough for Steve to worry before he hears Hopper chuckle. "Sure thing, kid." He sounds better, less heavy. Steve pictures him again with less frustration on his face. He hopes the man is smiling, or at least not frowning quite so hard. "Have fun."
"Sure. See you later." Steve waits for Hopper's sign off before setting the microphone down and heading out of the room. Hopper will be okay for a bit. Now he has a teenager to check on.
El is on the couch where he left her when he reaches the living room, still holding the throw pillow to her chest. He's seen how she sometimes clings to the stuffed lion she keeps on her bed. Looks like giving her something soft here was the right call; she looks calmer. The pillow isn't creased under the grip of her fingers anymore.
"Hey."
Steve sits down next to her. She falls over into his side, tucking herself up under his arm. Smiling down at her, Steve pulls her in closer. Moments like this are still, even months later, new enough to be savored. Especially when he knows that, no matter how behind she is compared to other kids, someday soon she's going to figure out that teenagers don't like to cuddle up with older, uncool people. Probably sooner than he'd like.
"Hi," she says, rubbing her cheek against his chest.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, squeezing her arm. She picks at the edging on the pillow. His mom will freak out if she notices a thread out of place but Steve doesn't say anything. "You don't have to. We could pop in a movie, maybe make something to eat? I've got everything to make pizza, if you want."
He shakes her gently but doesn't loosen his grip. El rubs her cheek against his chest again before looking up at him. "Movie?"
"Sure," he says with a crooked smile. "What do you want to watch? Please don't say Ghostbuster. Your friends have made me watch it so many times I can quote it in my sleep."
El sits up and Steve does not like the innocent look on her face. She smiles and tilts her head to the side. "Ghostbusters? Please."
"Nooo." Steve sticks out his bottom lip. He tries to send her his own version of puppy dog eyes but hers are better. It hasn't been thirty seconds before he caves. With a sigh, Steve pushes himself off the couch to put the VHS in the VCR. They make him watch it so often he keeps the tape on the entertainment center because it's easier than putting it back on the shelf every time they come over. He doesn't understand their fascination with it. They've seen so many insane things in real life; why do they want to watch a bunch of grown men chasing after ghosts?
El doesn't duck from his hand when he ruffles her hair on the way to the kitchen. "Popcorn?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
"Mmm, yes."
Her eyes light up when he comes back with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a box of peanut m&ms in the other. A couple cans of pop are pressed between his arm and his side; it's uncomfortably cold but worth it for the way El grins when she sees all the treats.
"Scooch over," he says, plopping down next to her. All the kids have been over enough times to know that he prefers to sit on the right side of the couch. He's pretty sure they think it's just his spot. It's not, not really. For the most part when he's on his own, Steve will sprawl out over whatever surface is closest. When everyone is here, he can't relax unless he's closest to the front door. He doesn't know why the sliding door to the pool doesn't bother him, considering—Barb. Maybe the fact that when he has the blinds open, he can see everything out there.
He can't keep his eyes on the front door, though. He enjoys being part of the group when everyone is over, but because he needs to be between them and anything that might crash through, he's claimed the corner seat for himself.
"Thank you," she says, taking the bowl and one of the cans from under his arm when Steve sits down.
"You're welcome." He smiles, shaking the box of m&ms. "Want to try?"
She nods, eyebrows crinkling when Steve tips the box over the popcorn. "What?"
"Trust me," he tells her, setting the nearly empty box on the coffee table. "Dustin showed me this. He's a genius."
El doesn't seem to know whether she should agree and Steve laughs. "If you don't like it, I've got plenty more popcorn. Try it for me? You might be surprised."
"I'll try." Slowly, she takes out a few popped kernels, careful to get some chocolate with it. Steve watches her nose scrunch up as she chews before she looks at him with wide eyed delight. "It's good!"
"I was just as surprised as you are," he says, popping open his drink. "Salty and sweet go well together." He nudges her shoulder. "Reminds me of a couple of people I know."
Her lips quirk up in a small smile before it drops and she taps her thumb against the bowl in her lap.
"Hey." He nudges her again and waits until she meets his eyes before continuing. "Whatever your fight was about, it's gonna be okay"—he switches the can to his left hand, holding his right out, pinky up—"Promise."
Her lips slowly tip up at the corners and she joins their pinkies together, giving them a quick shake. "Okay."
"Okay. Now let's get this party started," he says, waggling his eyebrows. She giggles, curling into his side again. The bowl ends up sitting on top of both of their legs. Steve rests his feet against the coffee table, happy to let El copy him. No one is around to see them breaking the rules.
It's early enough when the movie ends that Steve has time to put some dinner together before he has to take El home. She follows him into the kitchen, setting the empty popcorn bowl into the sink before taking a seat.
"Want to help out or watch?" Steve asks, cutting board in his hands.
"Watch?"
Winking, Steve smiles reassuringly at her when she sounds hesitant. The last thing he wants is for her to think he'll be upset if she doesn't want to cook with him. It shouldn't be a chore to her. Making food together should be fun. Something she's excited to learn more about, because even though it's been months there is still always more to learn.
"No problem, kiddo," he says and her shoulders lose some of their tension.
"How 'bout instead of pizza, I make something simpler tonight? And we can try something new soon, when you're up for it," he says, setting up a pot of water on the stove to boil.
She brightens, sitting up. "Really?"
"Sure. There's plenty we haven't tried making together. Next time I go shopping for you, I'll pick up what we need to make something fun. Sound good?"
"Yes." She grins, watching him chop up some tomatoes. He smiles back before letting himself get lost in the chopping and getting another pan out and turning everything into a real, quick, dinner. El watches him the entire time, even after he tells her she's welcome to use the TV while she's waiting. She shakes her head, resting her chin on his hands and settling in at the table.
Fifteen minutes later he's setting a couple plates of pasta on the table.
"Smells good," El tells him when he takes the seat across from her.
"Thanks."
When she's halfway through her plate, Steve leans forward, cheek on his fist. "Ready to talk about it?"
El's chewing slows for a second and she seems to search his face before nodding. "It's stupid."
"I bet it's not." The fight might not have been necessary, but they're rarely stupid. Just explosive with the way El is stuck there and Hopper feels bad about her situation. "Was it about the wait again?"
The closer it gets to the year being up, the more antsy she's been getting. Steve knows he can't really understand what it's been like for her, but he knows those last few weeks of waiting are torturous when you know what's coming on the other side. It's got to feel so much stronger for her.
She shakes her head. Taking another bite, El stares at him. The kind of look that feels like it goes right through him. "Graduation."
Steve blinks. "Graduation?"
El nods, setting her fork down. She leans over the table. "I want to go to your graduation."
There is a determinedness in her eyes that, well. He generally associates the look on her face with more important things than him finally getting out of high school. "El that's not, you can't—"
"I can," she insists, hands palm down on the table. "I can wear a dis...guise. Like at the school."
"Kiddo, I…" He looks at her and his chest aches at the sight of her wet, shining eyes. She wants to go so bad she's nearly in tears over it and he hates how it still has to be a no. "Your safety comes first."
She shakes her head. "It will be safe."
El is probably right. Steve can't imagine any government officials staking out a high school graduation just to make sure she stays put. Especially when he's the only one who was involved in all of that craziness that's graduating this year. He can't be high up on anyone's list of people to keep an eye on—at least that's what he tells himself to not let the paranoia take hold.
Her hair is so much longer than it was when she was allowed to go to the dance. If she dresses up in something different than her usual clothes, wears a hat or some sunglasses, no one is going to look twice. She'll just be one kid in a crowd of families cheering their kids on. Maybe she could safely spend a few hours sitting and waiting for his name to be called.
"It'll be boring, you know. Even when they reach my name, we'll be stuck waiting until they're done calling the rest of them."
El shrugs and nods. "I want to go."
Steve reaches across the table and covers one of her hands with his. His leg won't stop bouncing, though he's careful not to let it be too loud. He doesn't like being the one that they're fighting over. "We'll talk it out with Hopper, okay?"
She straightens up, sandwiching his hand between both of hers. "No promises, okay? I don't know if we'll be able to make it work." Squeezing his hand, she nods seriously. "Hopefully we can figure something out."
He squeezes her back before pulling away. They better be able to work out some sort of compromise. He doesn't want fighting over him, ever, let alone for something that doesn't even matter. It's just a day; one that he isn't looking forward to at all. Having her or Hopper there would make it better, he thinks, but he doesn't want to make things difficult.
"Ready to head home?" he asks when her plate is empty. "We've got time if you want to watch a movie or something."
She picks up her plate and rinses it off in the sink. Steve does the same with his, bumping their arms together. Smiling, she shakes her head. "I should go home."
That's what he thought she would say. She's always been brave—before he knew her, even before petal-faced monsters turned out to be real. None of them can take credit for the way she's willing and able to face things that no one likes to. Even so, he's proud of her for wanting to work things out with Hopper now rather than putting it off even longer.
"Ready to go?" he asks. She takes a deep breath and nods. Squaring her shoulders, she heads out of the kitchen and Steve follows her lead.
The drive starts out quiet, music low on the radio. Steve drums his fingers to the beat, humming along. He sees El watching him from the corner of his eye. It's a relief to realize how much better she looks now than she did when he found her. Things will work out. Even if she can't come, they'll find something that will make them all happy; or as close to it as her situation allows. For his part, he's trying to push thoughts of that day as far from his mind as he can.
"You haven't been happy."
Fingers stilling, Steve glances at El to find her staring at him in that way that feels like she's seeing more than what's in front of her. "What?"
"You seem…" He looks at her again when she trails off. Her eyebrows are crinkled and she presses her lips together. Steve doesn't like where this conversation is going—El is apparently way too observant for his own good—but he can't let her flounder trying to find the words. Her vocabulary has only gotten better since he's known her but there are still moments like now when she needs some help.
"It's okay, we'll figure out the word," he tells her. "It's not sad, is it?"
She shakes her head. He thought as much; Steve has been feeling a lot of things lately, but sad hasn't been one of them. "No, not sad."
He taps his index finger against the steering wheel. "...Scared?" he asks reluctantly because it's a little too close to the truth.
El tilts her head back and forth. "A kind of scared," she says, nodding. "Not like with the monsters. Worried."
The band around Steve's chest gets tighter. He concentrates on breathing, nice and even, and watching the road. So far he thought he's been doing a decent enough job shoving his nerves down while around the kids. No one has said anything; Dustin couldn't be subtle to literally save his life and to be honest, the rest of them aren't much better. Of course, if one of them was going to, it would be El. They spend the most time around each other—and he isn't entirely convinced that her powers aren't part of how she seems strangely in tune with what the people around her are feeling.
"A lot of people get worried when they're getting ready to graduate," he says, gripping the wheel tight. It's hard to keep himself from tapping it again, and he can't bounce his leg while he's driving, but he needs to stop fidgeting.
"Steve."
He feels her looking at him. It isn't a lie, but it's not the whole truth and of course she knows it. This would be so much easier if he could just lie to her. He can't. One of her most important rules is that friends don't lie—thanks a lot, Mike—and he doesn't want to think about how she will look, how she'll feel, if Steve doesn't tell her the truth. He sighs, turning the radio all the way down.
"You don't have to worry about me," he starts, shaking his head when he sees her move to speak. "I'm serious. I'm okay. I'm...I don't know what I want to do when I graduate, that's all."
El leans in. "Working with Hopper?"
Steve swallows. "Yeah, I mean, Hopper thinks I'll be good at it. And it's"—he runs a hand through his hair and goes right back to tapping his fingers against the wheel because he can't help it—"not like I have any other options. I'll make it work, okay?"
"You don't want to go to school?"
Steve laughs, shaking his head. "No. Even if I did, none of them want me. And that's fine, El, it is. I've never been good at school, real school. I think I can manage the stuff I'd need to take to work with Hopper, though."
"But you don't want to?"
What is he supposed to say when he can't, won't, lie to her? "Hopper wants me to."
"What do you want?"
Steve has had months to think about just that, since he realized the future he'd been planning with Nancy was never going to happen. Last year he had it all figured out. Stick around town, work for his dad, wait for Nancy to graduate. Follow her wherever she went for school. Working for his dad might still be an option, but it's not any better than working with Hopper. He thinks it will be worse, actually, sharing the Harrington name while still getting stuck getting people's coffee or copying papers. It sounds easy enough but he pisses his dad off enough by existing half the time; messing up at work would make it so much worse.
"I don't know," he says eventually, shrugging. "But hey"—he reaches over and ruffles her hair—"it's okay. Most people don't like their jobs. I can handle it, at least until I figure out what else I want to do."
She frowns harder but doesn't say anything. The rest of the drive passes quietly. There's a breeze when they get out of the car and it feels easier to breathe. The conversation left the air heavy for that last stretch. Steve meets El on the other side of the car and bumps her arm.
"Ready?"
She takes a deep breath and nods. "Ready."
He nods back and drapes his arm around her shoulders as they start the trek through the trees. It's a familiar walk and one that thankfully doesn't bother him as much as it used to. Back when he was first getting used to keeping El company, he was more than a little freaked out. With nothing but trees surrounding him on all sides and having just dealt with monsters again, he's not ashamed to say it was scary at the time.
Since the cabin itself has become so much closer to a home than his actual house, this is probably the only part of the woods around town that doesn't bother him. The fact that he makes this walk so often he could do it with his eyes closed helps, too.
"Will you be happy?"
El slows to a stop. Steve stops with her. She looks so serious as she stares up at him and he doesn't know what to say. Will he be? Working for Hopper might be okay. Better than working for his real—for his dad. But it's hard to shove aside the dread that creeps up on him when he imagines working for, well. It's a lot closer to the government than he's comfortable with. He wonders if Hopper ever thinks about it at all. If it bothers him. It has to, right?
Maybe he does it because it's safer for El, for the town in general, if he sticks around. If he stays in charge, he can keep an eye on everything. And maybe Steve will feel the same once he starts. He's not confident, though, that it won't lead to him ending up more paranoid than he already is.
He shrugs. "I hope so."
It's the best he can do without lying. Most of the time he doesn't think he will, but hopes he can figure out how to be. It won't be forever. He can take the courses he needs and do the training and figure out what else he wants to do while he's working.
El nods slowly, then starts walking again. Fast enough that Steve has to pick up his pace to catch up with her.
"Hey, what's up?"
She doesn't answer him, but she does reach for his hand when he catches up to her. He isn't quite being dragged along by her, but that's only because he widens his stride so he doesn't fall behind.
Apparently they're in such a hurry that El doesn't bother with the knock. He hears the locks all slide out of place and the door opens without either of them touching it. Hopper couldn't have done it; he's on the couch staring at their entrance when El leads Steve inside. She pulls Steve with her until they're standing right in front of him.
"Tell him," she says, shaking Steve's hand. He freezes up, breath catching in his throat. His heart starts to beat faster, he looks down at her with wide eyes only to find that she isn't talking to him. She's staring hard at Hopper. Focused as he is on calming himself down, Steve is slightly worried that El might start making things fly around until Hopper does when she says.
Hopper raises his eyebrows, settling back against the cushions. Steve thinks he looks surprised but not confused, which makes one of them. That's good. Maybe. Steve would love to know what's going on but since it's about him—and probably not about El getting to attend graduation—he's kind of afraid to find out.
"Um—" Steve starts, but El cuts him off with a sharp, "Shh!" and a quick look before focusing all of her attention back on Hopper. Okay, Steve mouths without making a sound. Probably better to not piss off the superpowered teenager any more than she already is.
"Tell. Him."
"Okay." Hopper raises his hands. "You gonna let him go?"
Steve raises his own eyebrows when she glances up at him and shakes her head. Hopper only nods, sliding from the middle of the couch so that he's leaning against the arm instead. He pats the space beside him. "Come on, kid. Guess we're having this conversation now."
Steve would rather not, actually. This doesn't sound great for him. He doesn't seem to get a choice, though. El, still keeping hold of his hand, pushes at him until he moves to sit. His heart starts pounding in his chest again.
"What conversation?" he chokes out, wishing he could make it steadier.
"The one I should have had with you at least a month ago."
Hopper twists until he's facing Steve. His face is way too soft and sympathetic and Steve's stomach clenches. El squeezes his hand tight—or maybe it's him who is holding on hard to hers. He can't tell. Hopper rubs the back of his head as he seems to think over what he's planning to say. Steve doesn't know whether he wants him to get it over with faster or never find the words.
"You don't want to be a deputy," is what he says after a minute. He looks Steve in the eyes, puts his hand on Steve's shoulder, and just comes right out with it.
"What are you talking about?" Steve wants to look back at El but can't tear his eyes away from Hopper's. "Of course I—"
El holds him tighter even as Hopper interrupts him before he can finish the lie. "You don't. And that's okay. Kid, I was serious when I told you no pressure. I just," he rubs his other hand down his face. "I know you've been worried about what to do when you graduate."
Steve swallows, nodding slowly.
"I just wanted to give you an option. Something with less focus on school because I know you don't enjoy it. But it was always a choice, your choice. I'm not going to take it personally if you don't want to work for me."
"That's, it's not that," Steve says, feeling like he has to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to get it out, "It's not...That isn't why."
Hopper shouldn't think that any of Steve's reluctance is about him. Hopper, everyone at the station—except maybe Callahan—are all great. They've made him feel welcome; even seem excited about him joining them in the future. That's more than he expects from anywhere else.
"Okay."
Hopper nods and doesn't ask for a reason. Steve could leave it at this.
"You're really not—" mad, he wants to ask. Disappointed. Upset that Steve doesn't want what he does, the way Steve knows his dad feels about him.
"Kid, Steve. I'm not whatever it is you've been worried about me being. Whatever the reason—and you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me an explanation—it's okay."
He lets go of Steve but doesn't look away as he sits back. "I'm starting to think no one has told you this, but you're eighteen. You haven't graduated from high school yet. I know you've been spending a lot of time with kids that are too smart for their own good"—Steve snorts, some of the tension in his shoulders easing away—"but most people don't have their whole future planned out by the end of high school. I sure as shit didn't. If it takes a year, a couple years, longer? You're young. You've got time."
He rests his hand on the top of Steve's head and gives it a shake the way Steve does to Dustin so often. Steve breathes and doesn't move, letting Hopper mess up his hair because no one's ever done it to him before. Only as a joke, back when he was still friends with Tommy who thought it was hilarious to fuck with his hair. It doesn't feel like a joke right now. "Understand?"
"Y—" Steve clears his throat, "Yeah, I understand."
Hopper curls his fingers, scratching Steve's head and messing his hair up even worse. "Good," he says, sliding his hand down to rest on the back of Steve's neck.
"The government kind of really freaks me out." The words fall from Steve's mouth in a rush that he can't hold back. "And I know it's not the same thing, like, I'm not really smart or anything but I'm not an idiot, I know working at Hawkins PD isn't anything like the"—he pulls El's hand closer to his side—"the lab or the agents that made us sign all those fucking NDAs but it still. It still freaks me out."
He shrugs lamely, feeling both lighter for having gotten it off his chest and like the idiot he just declared he wasn't because it's such a stupid reason.
El lets go of his hand but wraps him up in a tight hug before he can embarrass himself by trying to get it back. "You're smart," she says into his side.
Steve shakes his head. "That's what you got out of all of that? I think you need your hearing checked."
"Friends don't lie."
"Yeah," Hopper says before Steve can tell her he doesn't think she's lying, just misinformed. "I told you before, you've got good instincts. You don't have to get straight As to be smart. Hell, I think I do pretty okay and I was a solid C student—when I showed up."
Right, Hopper has been clear about how he'd done in school since that first test Steve was so proud about getting a C+ on. Hopper is one of the smartest, non-genius people he knows—someone who isn't like Nancy or Dustin but still knows so much. A lot of that is probably experience, but that has to mean there's hope for Steve to get there, too, right?
"I didn't realize how much all of it bothered you when I brought it up. If I did, I wouldn't have suggested it. Especially since you seem to have trouble saying no."
Steve ducks his head. "I can say no."
"Sure you can." Hopper pats his back gently enough it's almost like he's rubbing it instead. "But apparently you have trouble saying no to me. We'll work on that."
"You want me to say no to you?" Steve looks at Hopper like he's crazy because why else would he want Steve to tell him no?
"I want you to be comfortable and know that it's an option. I'm not Fred Harrington. I'm not," his voice goes as soft as his touch, as soft as Steve has ever heard him, "going to disappear or be disappointed if you disagree with me or have different ideas—or no idea—of what you're going to do."
Shit. Steve is not going to start crying right now but it is really hard to keep his eyes from tearing up. He's an adult, but right now he feels every bit a kid who has no idea what he wants to do—what he is capable of doing. He really wants a hug, more than the one El still hasn't released him from.
Hopper might somehow be a mind reader because the next thing Steve knows, he's being pulled into the man's chest and hugged tight. With no hesitation, Steve wraps his arms around him in return. El lets go of him, making it easier to lean into Hopper's chest and bury his face in his shoulder. Hopper pats his back but doesn't move.
"You're a good kid."
It's hard to imagine either of his parents ever doing this for him or needing it themselves but now that he's here, getting the hug he so desperately wanted, he thinks that's sad. There's always been that thought, that expectation that adults don't need to be held like this and he's realizing that can't be true. Maybe his mom and dad wouldn't be so—how they are if they let themselves have this.
Steve has been more open this year than he ever was. Even more than with Nancy. He can't look at El's face when she's upset and not try to make her feel better. Or keep up his attempt at acting too cool for things when he's hanging out with Dustin who can't wait to share a new discovery. His life has been so much fuller, richer than it ever was.
He knows why he let this get to him so bad, but now that it's all out in the open he wishes he hadn't. Months of making himself sick with stress and none of it has been necessary. Hopper isn't going to stop being there with his teasing smirks and proud smiles and his family that he's been sharing with Steve.
"Sorry." His voice comes out muffled but he still doesn't want to move.
"I'm not going to say it's okay, because it's not okay that you felt like you needed to hide this from us, from me. But you don't have to be sorry. Just because it feels like you've been part of the family forever doesn't mean we don't still have things to learn about each other."
There's a lump in Steve's throat that he can't seem to swallow around. He holds Hopper harder, shaking with the effort not to lose it. He knows, he's known for a long time, that Hopper considers Steve one of his. Since that basketball game forever ago, when he told Steve about his talk with Hargrove. Steve has just—he hasn't had much experience being part of a family like the one they've brought him into.
Maybe Hopper's right; he doesn't have to be sorry. They need to keep learning how to read each other. At the very least, Steve is going to do everything he can to drill it into his head that Hopper is not Fred Harrington.
He's a hell of a lot better.
Eventually Steve feels settled enough that he can pull away. He wipes at his eyes, thankful he managed to keep from wetting his cheeks or Hopper's shirt. A laugh tumbles out of him from nowhere, releasing the last of the tension he's been holding onto for he doesn't even know how long. It feels like this conversation has gone on for hours.
They don't laugh with him, but Hopper is smiling when he stops rubbing his eyes long enough to look. El latches right back onto him once he's sitting up.
"Hey, kiddo," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm.
"Happier?" she asks and he laughs again.
"Yeah. Thanks for meddling," he says and shakes her around until she laughs, "but don't get used to it."
"So," Steve says when she's calmed down. He looks down at her for a moment before catching Hopper's eye. "I heard we have another problem that needs solving. Something about this one wanting to go to my graduation ceremony."
El sits up. Steve doesn't have to look to know she's staring at Hopper hard.
Hopper rubs his head and sighs, but he doesn't look disgruntled. He sits back, arm of the couch supporting him, and gives a "let me have it" wave. Steve doesn't know if they will be able to get him to budge, even after all of this, but his chest isn't tight. The urge to bounce his leg or clench his fist to keep from tapping his fingers against El's arm as he talks isn't there. Maybe El will get her way, maybe they'll work out a compromise. Either way, he knows that he has these two in his corner. They've made him part of their little family.
He looks at Hopper, knowing he's about to argue against what the man thinks is the best course of action, and he isn't afraid.