Sorry my dudes for the long break, got kicked on my ass by exams. Saw ST 3 and liked it a lot, my boy Steve really took a class in dumbass huh. Anyway owing to this being a short chapter I'm gonna post two today. Super trigger warning for abuse both verbal and physical, also slurs.
R&R or F&F if you like, constructive criticism is loved and probably needed.
Chapter 7:
The rest of the year passed in a cosy haze. Steve picked up his parents' package, babysat the kids, ignored the stabbing pain in his heart when thinking of Nancy and Jonathan, cooked for Hopper and Jane. New Years was a blast (and not just because of the fireworks). Steve was ready to start the next year, but if his track record held something even worse would happen. He completely forgot that his parents were due back. It shocked him when they walked into the house, interrupting his ritualistic scrub down of the stove.
"Nice to see you actually listen to us." His father muttered. His mother gave him a stiff smile.
"It's good to see you." She said and all Steve could think was how bad a liar she was.
"Yeah. Good to see you too." Steve managed. They all went about their business, Steve continued his cleaning, Mr Harrington went into his study and Mrs Harrington went to unpack. Steve figured if he kept his head down and didn't do anything he couldn't possibly put them in a bad mood. But like with most of Steve's ideas it didn't quite go to plan.
Steve barely ducked when the bottle was thrown at him. It shattered against the wall, inches from his head. His father was in a mood.
"James, please." Mrs Harrington said weakly.
"Not now Adelaide!" James Harrington snapped, towering over his son. "This useless fucker needs to learn to be more responsible." Steve bit back the retort about how he'd been pretty damn responsible, none of those shitheads had died, yet. James held a piece of paper in his hand. "Maybe if he wasn't such a colossal fuck up and didn't keep dicking around with his friends he'd have better grades." Steve lowered his head slightly. So, it was about his report card. Steve knew he wasn't the brightest person, not by a long shot but he wasn't stupid. Well, not that stupid. He averaged C's in most classes and had a B in home economics. But that would never be good enough. Adelaide looked at the report card, wincing slightly.
"It... could be worse." She managed. "Look there's a B here."
"In home economics." James said through gritted teeth. "I didn't raise a fucking fag, doing homo shit like cooking."
"You barely raised me at all!" Steve snapped. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
"The fuck did you say to me?!" James roared. Adelaide stepped away, retreating to another room. Leaving Steve to deal with his irate father. Somewhere between all the punching and kicking and screaming ('useless so fucking useless') Steve managed to make a break for the door. He made it, sprinting out, forgoing shoes, socks or his car keys. He just ran. And ran. And ran. His legs carried him all the way to Hopper's cabin. He knocked the special knock and came face to face with Hopper. The look of annoyance on the older man's face disappeared into a look of concern at the sight of Steve on the doorstep.
"Jesus kid, are you alright?" He asked.
"Can I come in?" Steve asked in a timid voice. Hopper said nothing, letting Steve in and shutting the door behind him.