When Steve woke up the next morning, he could hear Jonathan and Nancy listening to music in the next room. It weirded him out. All of this-them, together, him, being here-weirded him out. But he was getting pretty used to strange things.
He kicked the blankets off of himself, completely covered in sweat. Hoping his vertigo would have magically subsided, he psyched himself up before getting out of bed. He stood in place and tried to convince himself he wasn't swaying. Then he caught sight of himself in Will's mirror. Deciding just to go for it, he felt a burst of confidence. Then, he hit his head against the door frame. "Ow." He fell backwards, and lay back in defeat. The door was open, though, and he didn't want to be seen like this, so he pulled himself back to his feet. He stumbled sideways and into the bed, where he sat, and groaned.
"Hey, Jonathan?" He called, hating himself.
Jonathan appeared a moment later, with Nancy over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"I could use a hand here."
"Still dizzy?"
He sighed. "Yep."
Jonathan supported him, leading him to the living room. "Man, you really can't walk straight."
"Oh, I'm aware. Hi, Nancy."
"Morning, Steve. I heard you were in the hospital yesterday."
"Yeah."
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Believe it or not, yeah, this is an improvement." He tried to focus on her, but it was like looking at a defective old film strip. The image kept resetting, like everything was constantly shifting harshly to the right and then starting again at the left. Back and forth, and back and forth.
"You look like you're going to be sick."
Steve shook his head, but he was unsure.
Jonathan retrieved a bowl from the kitchen, just in case. "Mom's at the pharmacy, getting your prescription filled."
"Prescription?" He didn't remember such a thing.
"Yeah. Antibiotics."
He visualized the pharmacy, which was not too far from where he worked. "I still need to pick up my car."
Jonathan laughed, which Steve couldn't remember ever seeing him do before. "Yeah, not like this, you don't. Nance and I can go get it, if you're worried about leaving it there."
"Nah, Robin can explain to our boss." His stomach lurched, and he gripped the bowl tighter. His breath quickened as he watched everything spin around him.
"I think you should lie down," Nancy said, "please."
He collapsed more than laid down, and squeezed his eyes closed. Even then, he could feel the swirling sensation. Then, he felt the familiar touch of Nancy's soft hand against his forehead. "I don't know why they let you out," she said.
"Probably needed the bed. Not gonna die from an ear infection."
Jonathan said, "you kind of almost did."
"That would be pretty lame," Steve said, "if I can fight and kill monsters but an ear infection takes me out."
"It would be very lame," Nancy agreed softly. "The kids say they hope you feel better, by the way. They wanted to come with me, but I told them no."
His ears were ringing so loudly now he could hardly hear her. "That's nice." Someone draped a blanket over him, and he pulled it tightly around himself. He hadn't even realized he was shivering.
"Do you want the tv on?"
"Sure."
Jonathan flipped through channels, landing on a rerun of E.T.
"Do you…" Jonathan paused. "Do you want us to stay?"
Steve had to hold back a smirk at the question. There was something so ludacris about Jonathan offering to spend time with him. "Yeah, sure, why not."
Nancy drove him home that night, where she heated up the soup Joyce brought him and made sure he was settled before she left. The next couple of days he got a revolving door of visitors. Dustin checked on him every day after school, usually accompanied by at least one of the other kids, and sometimes, his mom. Mrs. Henderson and Joyce made sure he had enough food, and sometimes Joyce would sit and talk with him for a while. Jonathan and Nancy dropped by occasionally. Even Hopper made an appearance. But there was one person who was almost always there.
"There is no way you're going to that party, doofus. You still can't walk in a straight line to save your life."
"Exactly. Everyone will be wasted. I'll fit right in."
Robin chuckled. "Absolutely not."
"Fine," he sighed dramatically, wanting to seem put upon. "Have fun without me."
"I'm not going either."
"You're not?" He genuinely hadn't expected that.
She chewed a handful of popcorn. "Nah. It wouldn't be any fun without my best friend."
"Who's your best friend?"
Robin glared at him, annoyed. "You're not going to make me say it, are you?"
Steve smiled. "I'm just curious, that's all."
"You are, you dingus."
He leaned back, satisfied. "I know that's hard for you to admit."
"It really is."
"Hey, Rob?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks, for...you know..."
"Babysitting you while you stumble around like a drunk toddler?"
He laughed. "I wasn't going to say it like that, but yeah."
"Anytime, Harrington."
