"Not feeling so good, huh?" Jonathan asked halfway through the awkward drive.

Steve ignored the question, asking instead where they were going.

"I told mom I'd drive you to my place."

He wasn't surprised. "Okay." It wouldn't be the first time he'd been patched up at the Byer's house. He reached for the temperature controls, and cranked the heat. He leaned forward to feel more of the warm blast of air, just as Jonathan turned it back down.

"Sorry," Jonathan said, "it's just, like, crazy hot. I think I have a sweatshirt in the back."

"That's okay," Steve mumbled. He wasn't about to borrow his ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend's jacket.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride. Once they parked, Jonathan got out quickly and hovered behind Steve as he walked into the house, unsure of how sick he really was. If Steve noticed this, he didn't comment on it.

Jonathan led him to the sofa. His mom, fresh off of an early shift at the store, had already made it up with a sheet, pillow, and blanket. She came into the room just as Steve sat down, carrying a mug of tea.

"Hi, Steve," she greeted him. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well." She handed him the mug, and placed a hand on Jonathan's arm. "Thanks for picking him up."

"Sure thing."

Steve didn't like them talking about him when he was right there, but he was grateful for Joyce's hospitality. "Thanks, Mrs. Byers," he said, and took a sip of the tea. Honey lemon. He didn't drink tea enough to have a favorite, but thought that if he did, this might be it. He felt a sharp pain in his ear and tried not to spill the tea as one hand automatically shot up to cover it.

Joyce rushed to his side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just-" He tilted his head to one side, as he had many times the last couple of days, hoping the lodged water would drain. "I got water in my ear when I was swimming."

"Oh, honey, I think you have an ear infection."

"Huh." He set down the mug.

"You should probably see a doctor."

"I'll make an appointment when I get home." It was a lie, and Joyce saw right through it.

Jonathan took a step towards the hall. "I'm gonna…"

"Go ahead, sweetheart,"Joyce said.

With his mom's approval, Jonathan retreated to his room. Joyce moved to a nearby chair, giving Steve room to lie down. Giving in to exhaustion, he did just that, and pulled the blanket over himself. Even under the blanket, he was shivering.

"What can I do for you?" Joyce asked. "Are you hungry?"

"I didn't eat breakfast, actually."

"Coming right up." She hopped up and left for the kitchen, where she made him a few slices of toast with jam. She returned to find Steve with a glazed look in his eyes, looking at nothing. "Steve?" She helped him sit up and handed him the plate.

He ate slowly, overcome with the urge to just curl up and sleep some more. He shouldn't be this tired, he told himself. Afterall, he'd gotten nearly two hours of extra sleep this morning, not to mention however long Robin let him sleep at the store.

"You shouldn't have gone into work, honey," Joyce told him.

"But Robin called."

"Did you tell her you were sick?"

"No."

"I'm sure she would have understood."

"She needed me."

Joyce looked at him sadly. The poor boy had no idea how to put himself first. She stayed until he finished the toast, then took the plate back from him. "I'll give you some peace and quiet so you can rest," she said.

"Thanks," he murmured, already half asleep.

After placing the dish in the sink, she set about making sandwiches for herself and Jonathan. Then, she washed the plates and, since it was a nice day and her living room was occupied, decided to read a book outside. She was on the last chapter when Nancy Wheeler's car pulled up. Nancy had barely put it in park before the gaggle of boys burst forth and raced to the house.

"Hey!" Joyce called after them, before Will could open the door. "Steve's sleeping, so please don't be too loud."

Nancy looked at Joyce quizzically, and the boys exchanged glances with each other. "Why is Steve here?" Will asked.

Mike added, "and why is he asleep?"

"He's sick," Joyce explained.

"Is he okay?" Dustin asked, the concern in his voice apparent.

"It's just an ear infection, he'll be alright. Promise."

Dustin made a show of letting out a worried breath, and he, Lucas, Mike, and Will clomped inside.

"Is he really okay?" Nancy asked once the boys were inside.

"I think so. Robin called because he came to work with a fever. He seems tired, mostly."

Nancy nodded, glad to hear it wasn't too bad. She was tired of seeing Steve in need of a hospital.

Despite Mrs. Byer's warning, the boys of course immediately spilled into the living room to observe Steve.

"He looks okay," Lucas offered.

"He looks like shit," Mike said.

"I can hear you, you know," Steve said without opening his eyes.

"Shit, sorry," Dustin said. "How are you doing, buddy?"

"I'd be a lot better if you twerps got out of here and let me sleep." He made a high pitch noise of distress, and the younger boys furrowed their eyebrows. Dustin was just about to ask what was wrong, when Steve leaned over the edge of the couch, and vomited.

"Aww, gross!" Mike cried.

Will was already halfway out of the room, calling for his mother.

"Oh, man," Dustin said, wanting to get closer so he could comfort his friend but also wanting to be nowhere near the puke.

"I thought the problem was with your ear," Lucas said helpfully, just as Steve sat upright and vomited again.

"I'm out of here," Mike said, his sentiments echoed by Lucas. Dustin heard them calling for Nancy and Jonathan as they left.

Steve looked at his now soaked jeans, then up at Dustin.

"It's okay, Steve," the younger boy said. "Are you gonna puke again?"

"I don't think so," he groaned.

"Good, that's really good."

But then he did anyway.

"Oh, man, wow, you're really sick, huh?" Dustin inched towards the exit.

"I don't feel so good," Steve said, more to himself than to Dustin.

"Yeah, yeah, I can tell, buddy."

Down the hall, he heard Mike's voice. "It's like The Exorcist in there."

"Who let you watch The Exorcist?" came Nancy's voice.

"Steve did."

Will returned with Joyce in tow, who quickly ordered the boys to fetch cleaning supplies, and to tell Jonathan to let Steve borrow some clean clothes. She asked Nancy to bring her the thermometer and some aspirin from the medicine cabinet, and set to work. "How are you doing, hon?" She asked sympathetically.

"Great."

She nodded, and handed him the thermometer as she set about cleaning the floor. When enough time had passed, she checked it. 102.8. She handed him the aspirin. He was, she noticed, swaying a bit in his seat. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, but he looked out of it.

Dustin was hovering in the doorway. When Steve noticed him, he said, "I'm okay, Dustin."

Jonathan handed him a pair of sweatpants. He and Joyce both instinctively reached out an arm when Steve stood up to walk to the bathroom. "I've got it," he said. He walked slowly, more of a shuffle really, and once he was gone Joyce finished cleaning.

"You said he was fine," Nancy said, trying not to sound too accusatory.

"I thought he was. He seemed fine when I left him."

In the bathroom, Steve gripped the edge of the sink. He looked at his reflection-pale, bags under his eyes, red flush of his cheeks-and splashed water on his face. He wished he was in his own bed, without the whole peanut gallery to bear witness to his vulnerability. He kicked his jeans off, throwing them into the bathtub for lack of better instruction, and changed into the sweatpants. Now that the toast was out of his system, he didn't think he was at risk of throwing up anymore. He splashed his face once more, reveling in the coldness. Seconds ago he had been freezing; now he felt like he was on fire. He was absentmindedly looking in the mirror still when someone knocked on the door.

"Are you okay in there?" It was Nancy.

"Yup," he called, then unlocked and opened the door. He found the rest of the crew in the kitchen, where he asked "can somebody drive me home?"

"No!" Dustin shouted, overlapping Joyce.

"I don't think you should be alone right now," she said.

"I just want to go home." He sank into one of the kitching chairs, and put his arms and head on the table.

"We'll take good care of you here," Joyce promised, although she knew that wasn't his concern. "Are your parents around?"

"No," Steve and Nancy said at the same time.

"It's settled then."

Steve reluctantly made his way back to the living room, where he was joined by Dustin. "Don't you wanna go hang out with your friends?"

"You're my friend, too, Steve."