Once Hopper left, Steve kept making up excuses to get up, testing out his sea legs. His friends argued with him to sit his ass back down as they watched him stumble and nearly trip numerous times.

"Okay, fine," Steve finally gave in. He tried to walk to the sofa, he really did, but his legs insisted on taking him in the wrong direction. He tried again helplessly to move forward, and smacked against the wall. "A little help here?"

Dustin grabbed his arm and led him back to safety, where he decided to lay down in an effort to improve things. Nope, still dizzy. "It feels like everything is swaying," he said.

"You're the only one doing that," Robin said.

It reminded him of being on that carnival ride with the swings that went in circles way up in the air. Thinking about it, he reached for the trash can.

"Steve, buddy," Dustin said, "I think you need a mom. Not your mom, because no offense, but your mom is kind of useless, but somebody's mom. We should call Mrs. Byers again."

"No," he groaned, voice echoing into the trash can. "I'm fine."

"You are very much not fine," Robin said.

He lifted his head from the bin, as if it were a Herculean task. "I mean, I have it under control. I'm an adult, remember?"

Dustin and Robin shared a look, as if they didn't believe him.

"What? I am."

"Okay," Robin said, amused. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, friend."

Steve seemed to be in no imminent danger as long as he stayed put, so Robin agreed to return to their movie marathon. At some point, she and Dustin went into the other room for lunch, which Steve vehemently declined. When they returned he was, once again, asleep. "Good," Robin said. "He probably needs it."

"Who's the babysitter now," Dustin said to himself. He knew Steve thought of himself as the younger kids' babysitter, although Dustin was adamant that they were too old to need one anymore. Still, he did come in handy when they needed to fight monsters or pick up pizza. And he was fun to be around.

Two hours later, Robin happened to meet Steve's eyes as she glanced down to check on him. "Jesus, how long have you been awake?"

He made some meaningless noise in response.

"Steve?"

Dustin looked at him now. "Hey, man, welcome back to the land of the living."

Steve slurred something now, and Robin's hand shot for his forehead. "Shit, he's burning up." She ran to the bathroom, and searched for a thermometer and some medicine. "Where the hell do they keep this stuff?" She found it in the cabinet under the sink, and returned to Steve's side, popping the thermometer into his mouth.

"104," she read, after what felt like ages.

"Holy shit," Dustin said. He gently cupped Steve's face. "Hey, Steve? Are you still with us?"

"What?" Steve asked. Good, at least it was intelligible. This was reminding Dustin way too much of when Billy had fought him, or the Russians had drugged him.

"Okay, executive decision, we have to call somebody," Robin decided.

"Who?"

"I...don't know. Should I be calling an ambulance? I don't know how these things work."

"Me neither."

"Come on, Dustin."

"You're older than me!"

"You have more Steve-is-in-danger experience!"

Dustin thought back to when Will's family used heat to drive out the monster. How hot had that room gotten, he wondered? "Ice packs." He ran to the kitchen, nearly slipping in his socked feet, and returned with as many things from the freezer as he could carry.

"Good, good thinking," Robin commended him. They placed the ice packs on and around Steve, who limply tried to turn away from the cold. Dustin held the last one to Steve's forehead.

"I'm calling Hopper," Robin announced. "He said we could call if there was an emergency." She pulled the phone number out of Steve's sweatshirt pocket where she'd seen him stash it earlier.

Hopper picked up on the second ring. "Hopper, thank god, Steve is-he has a really high fever-we put ice on him but we don't know what to do-should I call an ambulance?" The sentences tumbled out so fast it was hard to understand her.

"Slow down, Robin," came Hopper's voice. "You said Steve has a high fever? How high?"

"104."

She thought she could hear Hopper swear under his breath. "Do you feel like you can get him into the car and drive him to the hospital?"

Oh, fuck, Hopper thought they needed a hospital. She looked at Steve, who was hardly conscious. Between her and Dustin, she thought, they could maybe manage it. "I think so."

"Good. I'll meet you there."

"Okay." She hung up and returned to the boys. "So bad news is Hopper said he needs to go to the hospital."

"What's the good news?" Dustin asked.

"There is no good news. That phrasing might have been misleading. Okay, let's get him up."

Dustin had the quick thinking to open the front and car doors before they had to cross those thresholds with Steve in tow. They each looped an arm under one of his, and hoisted him up. Steve was hardly any help. Even when he tried to walk with them, his legs kept going in the wrong direction. They ended up mostly dragging him, which was exhausting work. Finally, they got him into the back seat. Dustin buckled him in, closed the door, and climbed in next to Robin.

"You're gonna be okay, Harrington," she said, although it fell on deaf ears. It was as much to comfort herself as it was him, afterall.