"I can't believe the only fucking place I can afford is in bumfuck fucking Pawnee," Steve bangs his hand on the edge of the steering wheel, frustrated.

Nancy fakes a groan and then giggles. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. I saw a movie there once when I was little,"

"Yeah, for just going to the movies it's fine. For pregnancy doctors, it's shit,"

"I'm sure the doctor will be fine. Everything's going to be fine, alright?"

Steve bit his lip, but nods cautiously. The two of them had decided that they weren't ready to tell their parents yet, which didn't leave many opportunities for money. Steve had never had a job because of his parents' affluence, and Nancy had given up babysitting the previous year in exchange for more studying time. All they had was saved up allowances to pay for prenatal appointments and medications – at least for the time being.

And so here they were in Steve's car, driving a half hour to a small clinic in Pawnee. Nancy intertwined their hands together and brought his fingers to her lips. He winked at her and grinned, this time, genuinely.

They're in the waiting room for exactly twenty minutes and Steve is tapping his foot the whole time, annoyed because they're the only people in the whole place. Nancy's nervous, more nervous than she should be with her supportive boyfriend here, but she has every right to be. Is she going to have to get naked for the doctor? She's never had to do that before. Are they going to ask super embarrassing questions that she wouldn't want to answer in front of Steve? You're having a fucking kid with him, dumbass. There's no hiding anything anymore. She's so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't even hear the "Nancy, Room A," being called.

Steve lifts her up onto the examination table and kisses the side of her head. Even though she hasn't said anything or acted differently, he can sense how she's feeling. "I'll be right here, okay?" he asks, eyebrows raised. Nancy smiles, because yes. Steve is here and he loves her and everything is going to be okay because he's here.

A plump, white haired nurse enters the room and pulls out a clipboard. "So, we're here for our first prenatal check-up, huh?"

Nancy timidly nods, afraid of the judgment that she can sense coming. The nurse practically rolls her eyes. "Relax. You're the third teenager I've seen today. And you're the only one with the daddy along with ya, so consider yaself lucky,"

"Right. Yeah, sorry,"

"Now, do you have any history of any medical problems?"

"No?"

"That includes asthma or any allergic reactions,"

"I'm not allergic to anything and I don't have asthma,"

The nurse is writing things down at top speed and Steve takes a step forward, looking over her shoulder. She gives him a look, but doesn't scold him. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

"Yes," says Nancy.

"When was your last menstrual period?"

Nancy blushes, which embarrasses her more than the question itself. Steve doesn't even seem fazed by it. "Mid August, I think? I don't know, I'm sorry, I didn't even realize I was pregnant until September,"

"It's fine. Do you have a family history of cancer and or heart problems?"

Nancy mentally kicks herself for not paying closer attention to her mother's many rants about random aunts from Florida that she's never met. She's racing through nearly every conversation and memory, trying to think of any small piece of information that could be helpful. "Uh, I mean, my grandmother on my dad's side died of a heart attack. And my grandpa on my mom's side had stomach cancer, but I don't think anyone else . . . I'm sorry. Can I come back with more information during my next appointment?"

The nurse nods again and continues writing.

"Well, what about me?" asks Steve, sticking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "Do you need to know my family history?"

"Another time," she brushes him off instantly, which surprises both Steve and Nancy. "What birth control methods did you use?"

"Well, I was on birth control, and we normally use a condom, but I uh, I think we must've forgotten that night," Nancy crosses her arms over her chest.

The nurse writes some more down and then looks back up. "Okay. Dr. Saperstein will be with ya shortly. I just need ya to undress – bra and underwear too – into this gown. Your . . . friend can leave if you'd like. Also, I need a urine sample,"

"Wait, why does she have to get naked?" Steve asks rather bluntly.

"For the breast and cervical exam," The nurse answers, somewhat condescending. Nancy had done some research before the appointment, but not much. Even just going through the books at the library was embarrassing. She'd assumed that Steve had done some research, but then again, Steve was Steve. People didn't change overnight. "The doctor will be right with you," the nurse repeats, closing the door behind her.

There's silence between them for a moment, and it's almost uncomfortable. Steve picks up on it quickly. "Oh, uh. Do you want me to . . .?" he points towards the exit and Nancy shakes her head.

"No, I . . . I – stay. I'm just . . ."

"Nervous?"

Nancy makes a knowing face and Steve approaches her slowly. "It'll be good, babe, okay? Guy's a doctor. He sees like a million vaginas a day,"

She hits him playfully in the chest for his bluntness, but in truth, it made her feel better. Steve stands by the door to make sure the doctor doesn't come in while she's getting undressed, and Nancy strips into the paper gown. It's less than flattering, and she's beginning to feel the way that pregnant women in TV and movies do about their bodies – ashamed and disgusted. Steve's whistle when she took off her bra made her feel only the tiniest bit better. Afterwards she walks across the hall to the bathroom and manages to uncomfortably pee in the small cup the nurse had given to her.

A man a few inches shorter than Steve with dark black hair comes in a few minutes later. "You must be Nancy," he reaches out to shake her hand. "I'm Dr. Saperstein. Nice to meet you,"

"Nice to meet you, too. This is Steve," she motions in her boyfriend's direction.

The two men shake hands. "You can both relax. I know that Pawnee probably wasn't your first choice, but not everyone can afford Eagleton Medical Center. Regardless, I've been doing this job for ten years now. There's nothing I haven't seen,"

Nancy lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in.

"Do you have any questions before we start the exam?"

Steve looks to Nancy. "If something's wrong with my baby, will you be able to tell now? I'm only four months in, but I don't want to wait until like month eight to find out it's in danger,"

"It depends on the situation," Dr. Saperstein explains. "We're going to take your blood later on and test for a couple of things. If any of those tests come back positive, we'll talk, but if not, I'd say you're fine for the time being,"

"Okay. Uh . . . do you want me to lie down, or . . .?"

"Yes, just place your feet up on these stirrups here," he motions towards the things attached to the table. Nancy scoots down so she can get her feet right on the edges and places her head on the pillow. "What would you be more comfortable starting with? Breast or cervical?"

"Uh . . . breast, I guess," the word feels weird and almost dirty on her tongue.

Dr. Saperstein is gentler than she would've expected. The breast exam isn't invasive and it's not full on groping – just feeling at certain places. The cervical exam is an entirely different story. She's holding her breath the entire time until his hand enters her, and then she hiccups back a yelp. It gets even worse once the pap smear begins. Steve clicks his teeth together and she looks over at him. He makes some funny faces and then does his imitation of Jake Ryan in Sixteen Candles that she likes so much.

"Everything looks good," says the doctor once he throws his gloves in the trash. "You can sit up now,"

Nancy does as told. "You're nice and healthy, Nancy,"

"Shouldn't I have gained more weight though? I read that by the fourth month, the baby's supposed to be six inches long. I don't think my stomach is six inches thick,"

Saperstein nearly laughs at that. "That's untrue . . . but, no, Nancy, I promise, everything's fine. Pregnancy is different for every woman. Usually it's hereditary though. Do you know how the women in your family looked while they were pregnant?"

"Yeah, I have a little brother. My mom didn't really gain that much weight until way later, though," she exclaims.

"Then it'll probably be the same for you. When you come back for your ultrasound appointment, be sure to mention that,"

"And when should she have her first one?" Steve questions. Nancy's lips turned slightly upward.

"We suggest that you get your first one sometime between eight and ten weeks, so . . ."

"I'm nineteen weeks along," Nancy interrupts. "Can I still make an appointment? Don't you have to make one like months in advance? If they won't give me an appointment by next week, is my baby going to be in trouble?"

Saperstein pats her hand gently. "No, no. It's just suggested, is all. But if you'd like, remind me later and I'll talk to the ladies at the front about fitting you in somewhere,"

Nancy's shoulders relax.

"Now, I have to see another patient down the hall. Nurse Moone is going to come in and take your blood, and I'll come back after to discuss. Okay?"

The nurse from earlier came back and did as Dr. Saperstein had said. Nancy's queasiness when it came to needles died down a bit once she saw just how much worse Steve was. He was still holding her hand, but he was facing away from her, chewing on his fingernails. ("You're such a baby," Nancy giggled).

It took seemingly forever for Saperstein to reappear. So long in fact, that it left enough time for Nancy to change back into her clothes and take a ten minute nap, only to wake up to Steve reading pamphlets aloud to her. "What are you doing?" she yawns.

"I just thought I'd catch up on stuff I should know or whatever. Plus, you know, isn't it a thing that babies like hearing their parents' voices?"

Nancy mutters a "yes."

"Well, you know, we haven't really talked about it, but if we keep it, I kind of want our kid to know my voice,"

Her eyes glitter and her heartbeat quickens. "You know it's crazy how charming you can be without even trying. So much so that you're still making my heart race like you did when we first starting talking,"

"Hmmm. I didn't think you actually liked me back then,"

"I always liked you," Nancy's more dreamy and moon-eyed right now then she'd ever want anyone else to see her being. "Even back when you didn't know I existed,"

"I thought you said you thought I was a conceited asshole," he fakes a pout.

"I did. I still thought you were cute."

"Thought? Am I not still the cutest guy in school?"

Nancy rolls her eyes. Steve had changed a hell of a lot since they'd first started going out, but he still thought just as highly of his looks as ever. Still, it made her chuckle. "I hope the baby looks like you,"

Steve makes a face, but then he looks serious. It's that look he gets sometimes that drives her crazy, because it means he's thinking about how much he loves her. "No. We're gonna have a beautiful daughter with your nose and your smile,"

"Oh, come on," Nancy says. "You don't want a boy? Funny and just as cute as his daddy?"

"Boys are a nightmare. You'd hate having a son," Their conversation was playful and light, and everything that it probably shouldn't have been, but neither of them really wanted it any other way for the time being.

"That's true, I guess. I can't even handle you half the time," just as Nancy winks at him, Dr. Saperstein reenters the room, clipboard in hand.

"Everything looks good," he says and both Nancy and Steve sigh. "You're healthier than a horse . . . for now. I mean, there's gonna be a bunch of other tests that you'll have to take each time,"

"Like what?" asks Nancy.

"We'll have to screen you for Hemoglobin, Fragile X-Syndrome and – is either one of you of Jewish descent?"

"Me," says Steve. "Mom and Dad,"

"My dad is," says Nancy.

"Yeah, okay, then we'll have to test you for a lot. Our people are cursed, I swear to God. Anyway, we've got to get you on a set of prenatal vitamins and you need to talk to the secretaries about setting up the ultrasound and the next visit,"

"I can pay up front too?" asks Steve.

Saperstein nods.

"Alright then, I guess we're all set. I'll just write you a couple of prescriptions and then you're good to go," says Saperstein.

He scribbles on a notepad and hands Steve four slips of paper. "I'll let you get dressed. It was nice meeting the both of you,"

Nancy and Steve each shake his hand and Nancy smiles brightly. "Thank you so much, Doctor. I really do appreciate it,"

Saperstein shrugs. "Just doing my job,"

And then as Nancy changed back into her clothes and they chatted with the secretaries about appointments and medication refills, she felt safe. The baby was going to be the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and Steve would be reduced to the second most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. They'd be able to make something work, even if they hadn't talked about it yet. Dr. Saperstein would take good care of her. They were going to be okay. The baby was going to be okay.

Nancy and Steve arrived back at the Wheelers' home (telling Karen that they'd been at the movies) to find Mike and Lucas sitting in silence on the couch. The air is thick and uncomfortable and Karen tells them what happened before they can even take their coats off: Joyce had admitted Will to a psych ward that morning. Jonathan had found Will holding a butcher knife to his wrists the night before, staring straight ahead and speaking words that didn't make sense. The boys hadn't been allowed to say goodbye because it could've endangered them. Steve went into the kitchen to phone the Byers'. Nancy made her way to the living room. She knelt down in front of Mike and took his hands in hers, rubbing her thumb over his freezing knuckles. With a small hesitation, she reached over and did the same to Lucas. Neither of them looked up at her, but it was clear they appreciated it in some way.

Steve came back a few moments later, leaning against the wall and watching them silently. He was trying to think of something good to say, something smart. Mike had never particularly liked him much, but he tolerated him. Lucas was the first of the boys other than Will to accept him into his life, but there was still the awkwardness of not knowing if he could act like a friend or a brother. Finally, the words came to him.

"Hey guys, you wanna go out for burgers and sundaes at the Ritz?" he unfolds his arms and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'll buy,"

Mike and Lucas glance at each other. Nancy stares up at them, trying to convey that she thought getting out would be a good idea. Lucas turns to Steve and nods, "Can we pick up Dustin and Max?"

"Who's Max?" asks Nancy.

"Our new friend,"

"Whatever you want," says Steve.

They told Karen of their plan and she kissed Steve on both of his cheeks, thanking him for "being such a good boy." Mike rolled his eyes silently, but no one except Nancy saw him. She felt oddly nervous for a second, like she thought that Mike might expose her secret, but the fear quickly subsided. They all climbed into Steve's car and made their way around town, picking up Dustin, and then driving around the park looking for this Max person. Dustin explained that Max was very secretive and didn't like being at home, but she could usually be found climbing trees and skipping stones there.

The boys spotted her sitting by herself on a bench, clicking two sticks together. Suddenly, all the sadness disappeared from Lucas and Dustin as they raced out of the car, shoving each other out of the way to see who could get to Max first. The innocence of it made Nancy smile.

"I'm not gonna tell them," says Mike, just slightly above a whisper. He's leaning his head against the window, not even bothering to watch Dustin and Lucas.

Nancy turns around.

"I should, but I won't,"

She's about to ask him what he means by "should" and why it would be any of the boys' business, but Mike read her mind. "Friends don't lie," he explains.

"You're a good man, Wheeler," says Steve. "A far better man than most,"

The expression on Mike's face changed to something sadder. It isn't the look he generally gets when talking to Steve – that one is condescending, this one is softer. Sweet, maybe.

Dustin and Lucas bombard back into the car with the redheaded girl in tow. She's maybe around Will's height and skinny, but she has a hardened look to her that the boys certainly don't. She's smushed right in the center and says nothing to anyone other than a deadpanned "Wheeler." Mike nods in response.

The Ritz was loud, as it usually was on weekends. Teenagers and children ran wild, gossiping and singing along to the blaring music. Nancy thought that this would be the perfect place to be for the kids right now. A complete and total distraction.

They get a booth near the back and Steve jokes about requesting We're Not Gonna Take It, which gets Dustin and Lucas started on teasing his terrible taste in music. Mike examines the menu silently. Max doesn't seem to be paying attention. They order burgers and fries all around (Nancy whispered to Steve that she should get a salad, to stay healthy for the baby, but he ignored her) and sodas (with a water for Nancy).

"Wait, Steve, you never showed us those Halloween pictures!" says Lucas.

"Oh, shit, you're right! Sorry, man," Steve pulls out his wallet and hands him polaroids of Nancy, Jonathan and himself celebrating.

"Nancy, you look just like Princess Leia!" gasps Dustin and Mike makes a face, speaking for the first time.

"Ew, but you always say Leia's hot,"

Dustin blushes. "I didn't mean it like that! I just mean that her Cloud City look is so accurate! You look just like her in the scene where Lando betrays Han!"

"That was the plan," says Steve. "Nancy and Jonathan's favorite is Empire, and Jonathan wanted to look like Luke when he gets his hand chopped off. Don't ask me why Nancy couldn't just wear Leia's snow gear,"

"Don't blame me, you said that material was hard to find!" Nancy slaps him in the side.

"You made those costumes?" asks Max. Her tone was judgmental.

They all stare at her with mixed expressions until Steve speaks. "Uh, yeah, I did,"

Max shrugs and sips at her soda.

"So you guys are like the real life Han and Leia then?" asked Lucas, impressed.

"Well, I mean, Han's a badass. He's cool. He's got great hair. Leia's smarter, kinder, bigger badass, all around too good for him. Yeah, I'd say that's us," he wraps his arm around the back of Nancy's chair. Max watches closely.

"So you guys are dating?" she asks.

"Oh my God, Max, you never listen to anything! Yes, this is Steve. He's always over at Will's house, don't you pay attention?!" Mike almost yells at her and the mention of Will made Dustin and Lucas visibly uncomfortable.

"Fuck off, Wheeler, you think I actually listen to you?"

"Ooooh, nice one!" Lucas holds up his hand for a high five, which goes ignored.

"Do you think Will was gonna lose his hand last night? Like Luke in Cloud City?" asks Dustin. Nancy wants to vomit at the imagery.

"He didn't. That's all that matters," says Steve.

"But he could've," says Max. "And it would've been bloody and disgusting and if Jonathan hadn't been there, he would've died,"

"Shut up, Max," Mike shakes his head.

"I'm just being honest. It was only a matter of time. You all saw the way he was acting, the way he treated Eleven. You said it yourself, Wheeler. You know you did. You said he was a danger and a threat and a menace and that we should all be careful. You're just feeling guilty because you ended up being right,"

Mike pushes his chair away from the table and scratches at his wrists. He jets across the restaurant, presumably to go outside. Neither Lucas nor Dustin say anything in his defense.

Steve was upset by her words, perhaps almost as much as Mike. Perhaps because they'd hurt Mike. Max saw the look on his face and her own exterior weakened, like she was scared, like she thought that he would hurt her. Steve didn't even yell at her (he left that to Nancy). He just followed Mike out to the parking lot, where he sat on the curb, his head in his hands.

He sits down next to him in silence.

Mike lifts his head and sighs. It was clear that he'd been crying. "You know, you don't have to be nice to me just because you're dating my sister. I don't want your fake pity,"

"I'm not pitying you," Steve comments, rubbing his shoes against the pavement. "I just wanted to make sure that you knew none of this is your fault,"

"Yeah, right,"

"It isn't. That girl in there? She's just upset too and she's taking it out on you,"

Mike falls silent.

"Can I tell you something?" asks Steve. Mike shrugs. "For a long time, I, uh, blamed myself for what happened to Barb. It was at my house, it was my party. And I think that if I'd . . . not . . . gone inside and I'd stayed out there with her, that she'd still be here. I know Nancy blames herself, too. Now, that, that pissed me off. Why would it be Nancy's fault that a monster appeared out of nowhere and just took her friend? Even if she was there, she wouldn't have been able to stop it. And then Nancy pointed something out to me – if I said all that about her, why was it any different for me?"

Mike picks up a pebble from the ground and throws it across the street.

"Jonathan is my best friend. I would do anything for him and I would do anything for his family, and I know you feel the same way about Will,"

"I did say all those things that Max said," says Mike. "I was really, really horrible to him,"

Steve pauses. He thinks about Jonathan again, and all the things that he'd said to him that day behind the movie theater. He thinks about Nancy that same day, and those things that he let Tommy write. "You can make it up to him. Maybe in a few days, maybe when he gets out, maybe months from now. He's still here, Mike. He's not gone,"

"Yeah, but Eleven is gone. She's gone because of him and I can't get her back. I don't know how I can look at him knowing that I might never see her again because of him,"

Again, Steve tries to put himself in the younger boy's shoes. What would he do if Jonathan was Will and Eleven was Nancy? Probably something stupid. Definitely something stupid. He thinks on it some more, thinks of Nancy and the baby, and Jonathan and Nancy forgiving him. The answer became very simple.

"This is going to sound really lame and I'm giving you permission to make fun of me about it later, but . . . you know, Eleven might be gone, for right now, but you know what isn't? Hope. Hope is always going to be there. Eleven came back once, maybe she'll come back again. And – and Will? He's . . . hurt. And he's scared and he's different. But he's still your friend. Your friend is still in there somewhere, Mike. You just have to wait it out and hope that you get to see him again someday,"

Mike bites the inside of his mouth. He wishes for the taste of blood. The metallic taste could perhaps wake him out of this weird dream where he's having an actual conversation with his sister's boyfriend. The guy was barely a real person, let alone someone he could sit on a curb pouring his heart out to. And yet here they were. And Mike was actually finding his presence to be calming. His words had been kind, they'd lifted a weight off his back.

"You wanna go back inside?" says Steve.

Mike nods. Normally, when they walked side by side, Steve always tried to mess up his hair. It was annoying, and Mike certainly didn't want Nancy's stupid boyfriend touching his hair. This time, he reaches far up and messes up Steve's hair, who does the same to him. Because Steve touching his hair is nice.

Jonathan finally picked up the phone on the fourth day of Steve (and Nancy) calling him. He gave vague, one word answers and wouldn't say anything about how Will was other than "different." Steve insisted on coming over and helping out around the house, which made Nancy coo and Jonathan roll his eyes.

Joyce wasn't home. Hopper had thought that it would be good for her to get out of the house and had taken her to stay with him for a few days. Jonathan had opted to stay at the house and look after Chester. Steve came over, smiling and cracking his typical jokes that no one found funny other than himself. They argued over whether or not they should watch Family Ties or Magnum, P.I. while they ate pizza (that Steve had offered to buy, and had even agreed to get the gross kind with peppers that Jonathan liked). The evening was spent in peaceful solitude, and for the first time in a while, Jonathan felt his heart race in a way that didn't have anything to do with being afraid.

After walking Chester, watching Steve chain-smoke cigarettes, and tossing a football back and forth, they decided to call it a night. Or, well, Jonathan decided to call it a night. It'd been a long time since he'd had a good night's sleep. Steve was just willing to do anything to put his friend in a better mood at this point. The two curled up in Jonathan's bed; Jonathan with his hands folded on his stomach, lying perfectly straight, Steve sprawled out, with his arms behind his head.

" . . . I just, I don't know what it is! I liked Joannie Loves Chachi, maybe I'm the only one, but I thought it was quality television! Not as quality as Happy Days, obviously, but still, good. And now, what the fuck is this fucking Charles in Charge bullshit? I love my Scott Baio, but I do not love this fucking bullshit ass low rent comedy!"

"I think it's okay," says Jonathan.

Steve scoffs. "Ugh, of course you do. Nancy says the same thing! I swear, sometimes I think you guys gang up on me on purpose,"

Jonathan chuckles. He steals a glance over at his friend and a thin smile appears on his lips. For a moment, he considers letting Steve go on with his ramblings. They made everything seem normal and ordinary – but everything wasn't normal and ordinary and there was a giant elephant in the room. Both were waiting for the other to mention it first.

"I don't know what to do, Steve," says Jonathan. "I feel like it's back when Will disappeared, that's how hopeless everything is. I'm supposed to protect my family and I can't do it,"

Steve doesn't miss a beat. "Yes, you can. You already have,"

"What do you mean?"

"You got Will help. He's getting help now,"

"Yeah, but – that's not – why didn't I realize he wasn't okay when he first came back? He spent a week all alone being tortured and we all just thought he'd be okay! I just . . ." Jonathan shakes his head, frustrated.

"You wanted him to be okay," Steve finishes. "We all did."

Jonathan says nothing, just looks up at the ceiling. It reminds him eerily of that night the police had found Will's 'body.' He hadn't slept then either. Steve senses his uneasiness and places his hand on top of Jonathan's bicep. "Listen, you know . . . Will is so strong. Kid's like my hero, man. Things suck right now, but they won't always. It's like you said – he was tortured and abused. He's not supposed to be okay. But he will be. And it'll be because of you and your mom,"

Words that he was too afraid to say sat idly on Jonathan's tongue, and although he couldn't speak them, he'd never meant them more than he did in this moment. And he thought that right now, under the light of the moon, Steve had never looked more beautiful or more real.

"Will used to tell me this thing," he whispers. "'Friends don't lie.' Maybe it's . . . I don't know, childish or whatever, but it makes me think a lot. You're not lying to me, right? Promise me, Steve. Promise me you're telling me the truth."

Steve's heart burns because he was and he wasn't. He thinks of little Mike Wheeler in the back of his car. And obviously, it wasn't what Jonathan was talking about but it was all Steve was thinking about. "No, man, of course. Your family is so fucking . . . hope, or whatever. That sounded lame, I'm sorry. I just meant – you know, yeah. Everything I said stands."

Jonathan nods and turns away again.

Friends don't lie.

He and Nancy hadn't exactly spoken about telling people. It had kind of just been a silent agreement thus far. She was definitely going to be pissed when she found out that he'd told Jonathan, but his impulsive nature and his heart told him that this was the right thing to do. Yes, here he was, taking the words of thirteen year olds literally.

"Jonathan," he looks over at the blonde haired boy.

"Yeah?"

"I am lying about something. Or – I don't know, maybe it's not lying, maybe it's just not telling you something."

Jonathan pauses. "Uh . . ."

"Nancy's pregnant, man," he lets out a long sigh of relief. It felt strange to say out loud, like it made it more real.

Jonathan doesn't look over at him. His gaze doesn't leave the ceiling, and his face is expressionless. It's expected, because it's Jonathan, and it's hard to get him to show emotion when he's not around his family. He's deep in thought about it though, because there's about a thirty second pause before he says anything. "How far along is she?"

"Like three months,"

"That's why you guys had that big fight last month," The realization in his voice is evident.

"Yeah," says Steve. He rolls over onto his side. "I was an ass first but I'm gonna be there. I'm gonna try,"

"Are you guys keeping it?"

"We haven't really talked about it,"

Jonathan finally looks at him. "Steve, a baby is a baby. It's another person. You have to talk about it. It can't be last minute like your homework,"

"I know . . . I just – you know . . . things are so good right now and Nancy was so scared at first and I feel like if we talk about it, she's gonna get scared again,"

"Does anyone else know?" Jonathan sighs.

"Mike."

"You have to tell your parents. Or at least Nancy has to tell hers,"

Steve bites his lip and shakes his head, annoyed because he assumed that Jonathan would understand this. "My dad beats my ass for no reason. He'd probably actually murder me if I told him about this,"

"Well, then, what about Nancy's? Her mom's cool,"

"I don't know. It's not really my decision,"

"Steve, you guys can't do this alone. I'm not going to let you," It's stupid, perhaps, but Jonathan suddenly feels protective over Nancy. His original misguided and forced romantic feelings for her had turned into a friendship, but at this moment, she was no longer simply a friend. She was a sister, she was family. And yes, Steve was his family too, but in a far different way. Jonathan knew Steve – the best and worst parts of him, and although he didn't want to, he feared that the other boy would run.

"What makes you think we will? And even if we do, we can,"

"How? Babies cost money. Neither of you has got a job,"

"I'll get one. Dude, what's your problem? Not even a 'congrats?' You're being such a downer," Steve scoffs and Jonathan narrows his eyes.

He can't possibly tell Steve of his fears. It would only upset him and push him into doing something stupid. Jonathan mentally kicks himself for even considering Steve's feelings, because right now all he wanted to do was see Nancy and tell her everything was going to be alright. Had Steve said that to her? Probably not. He could be so dumb.

"Sorry. Congrats. It's uh, it's nice. Great! It's great,"

Steve smiles and taps him lightly on the arm. "Thanks, man. Don't mention this to Nancy until I give you a heads up though, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just – just tell her soon. I want to talk to her," Steve raises his eyebrow and Jonathan explains. "Just because, you know, I practically raised my brother. I could give her some pointers. And she could use a friend,"

Steve smiles even brighter and it momentarily takes Jonathan's breath away. "Yeah, she could. Thanks, Jonathan. You're the best, you know that, right?"

Yeah. The best.

"Yeah, asshole, I know. And you don't deserve it," he's kidding obviously, and Steve laughs, and everything feels as alright as it can be. Jonathan wonders how Steve can manipulate a situation like that, and he wonders about whether or not it's a good or bad thing. Has Nancy noticed this about him? Does she like it? They're both normally so good at seeing through Steve's façade but maybe love has blinded her.

Meanwhile, beside him, Steve thinks of Nancy's eyes and the birthmark on her inner thigh and how she smells. He pictures her reading their kid a bedtime story, and then they both tuck him or her in and kiss their head and say 'I love you.' And then afterwards, when they're back in their own room, they have sex. Or maybe they don't, maybe they watch a rerun of Happy Days and debate over whether or not Steve is right about Scott Baio's career choices. Whatever they're doing, they're happy and everything is perfect. As long as he has Nancy Wheeler by his side, any outcome is the perfect outcome.

Nancy was more relieved than anything when Steve told her that he'd told Jonathan. They'd never really discussed whether or not they were telling people, so she couldn't blame him for doing it. Plus, it took a big load off her shoulders. Aside from her parents, Jonathan was the person she was most worried about telling. Steve had said that he'd seemed kind of judgmental, but he'd been nothing but caring towards her. It felt good to have someone else knowing. He'd even offered to go to the first ultrasound appointment with her. Nancy assured him that she and Steve had it covered, to which Jonathan responded "Okay. But um, you know, if things aren't good with him or whatever, you know to call me, right?"

It made Nancy think that they were back to this whole love triangle business from the previous year. Did Jonathan not trust Steve anymore? Did her being pregnant somehow reawaken Jonathan's past romantic feelings for her? It wasn't something she really needed to worry about, considering that she wasn't going to just change her mind about Steve. He was the man she loved, not Jonathan. Well, perhaps that was a little harsh. She loved Jonathan as a friend. And everything was going to work out with Steve. She wanted it to. It had to.

The few weeks leading up to the ultrasound appointment were stressful to say the least. That little girl Max was driving her insane. She was always over at the house, even though Mike obviously didn't like her. They argued often, and although Nancy had scolded her about what she'd said to him at the Ritz, the girl hadn't taken it particularly seriously. The only effect it had had was making her sit between Nancy and Steve at every opportunity and comment on something she didn't like about Nancy's appearance. Things were especially stressful because Will was still in the hospital, and according to Joyce, things had only gotten worse. Nancy, Mike and Steve had tried going over to visit him, but they'd been denied each time.

Mike missed Eleven. He'd cry at night for her sometimes, and Nancy'd sit on the edge of his bed and put his head in her lap until he fell back asleep.

School was rough. They said things were supposed to get easier senior year, but it seemed to be the opposite. When she wasn't worrying about pregnancy drama, she was hauled up in the library studying for her AP classes. Application season was coming up soon as well, and she hadn't decided what she wanted to do yet, if she even wanted to go to college. She and Steve hadn't discussed future plans, and for right now, Nancy was comfortable keeping it that way. This was supposed to be a happy time! She had enough to worry about with Mike and Will and just being pregnant in general. She could concern herself with the future another time.

And so here they were, sitting in a different room at the doctor's office, waiting to get the ultrasound. Waiting to get the first glimpse of the baby. They'd spent the school day passing notes to each other with exclamation points that increased each time a new note was passed. Nancy ate lunch with her friend Kate, who she rarely saw anymore, while Steve and Jonathan hid out under the bleachers and did whatever dumb boy things they did when they were alone. They picked up Mike, ran through the Burger King drive through, and then dropped him back off at the Wheelers'. The ride to Pawnee had been somewhat heated. They had their first argument since Nancy'd first revealed the pregnancy to him.

"Why can't I get a job? I'm perfectly capable of handling myself!" she'd explained from the passenger's seat.

Steve had just sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "I know that, okay? But you know . . . you're . . . I just don't think we should put any stress on the baby. That's supposed to be like a bad thing, right?"

"It's not stressful! What, you think I can't handle it? I'm handling school just fine,"

"Yeah, well, you know, school's hard enough as is. I'll get a job, I'll take care of everything,"

Nancy widened her eyes and raised both her eyebrows. "Oh, oh, I see how it is! You want to be the big powerful man who takes care of his weak willed wife who does nothing but pop out babies!"

"What?" Steve looked at her like she was crazy, and shook his head, banging his hand on the wheel. "No! No. I just – we're not even married – what? I'm just trying to think of what's best for the baby,"

"And I'm not?"

"I didn't say that,"

"No, but it was implied! I am a strong, capable woman and frankly, everything you're saying is thinly veiled sexism," Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat.

Steve's confusion furthered. "Nancy, c'mon! You know, I'm not – I'm not like that!"

"Oh, really? Mr. I've-Slept-With-Eighty-Percent-of-Hawkins-High's-Female-Population? You see women as less than you and you know that!" At the time, Nancy hadn't thought she was being unreasonable. She hadn't seen it as pregnancy hormones, she'd seen it as genuine anger. Because Steve was an asshole. And an idiot. And even without pregnancy hormones, she normally thought that.

He shut his eyes, frustrated. "Nancy, I'm not . . . I'm not like that anymore. I'm just worried about the baby and you and I want the both of you to be healthy,"

"Well, I can take care of myself,"

An hour later, they were still waiting for the ultrasound technician, sitting in absolute silence. Dr. Saperstein finally enters the room after what felt like forever. "Nancy, Steve, hi. It's good to see you,"

"Hi, Dr. Saperstein. It's good to see you," Steve walks forward and shakes the man's hand. Nancy rolls her eyes, at this clearly man-to-man gesture.

"You two excited?"

"Very," Nancy holds her thin stomach, something that she'd started doing subconsciously. She forces a smile, trying to pretend like she isn't pissed at Steve.

"This is like – the biggest thing to ever happen ever," says Steve.

"Yes, I can imagine," Dr. Saperstein chuckles. He makes his way over to Nancy on the examining table and opens up a drawer, pulling out a bottle of gel. "Now, I need you to lie back and pull up your shirt just a bit. I'm going to rub this gel onto your stomach. Sorry if that sounded creepy,"

"Why?" asks Steve.

"It makes it easier for us to see the baby,"

Nancy does as she told, flipping around on the table – well, it's more like a chair, really. A recliner. She lies back and Steve tentatively stands next to her. "Now, I'm gonna warn you, it's a little cold,"

She shivers as the clear liquid is spread over her stomach. Dr. Saperstein then pulls out a small hand-held device and shows it to them. "This is called a transducer. When I run it over the gel, it'll accept sound waves that'll transmit into images on the screen,"

The screen is tiny, it must be less than ten inches across. Nancy hopes that the images will be clear enough to make out. Saperstein grins and looks to her, then to the screen. "Well, are you uh, you ready to see your baby?"

Nancy looks at Steve for the first time since the car ride. She's still angry with him, but the connection she feels with him, and the good things it brings, is much stronger than her rage. Steve nods and reaches for her hand. She thinks against it for a moment, but then realizes just how big of a deal this is, and takes it. "Yes. Ready," she answers.

Dr. Saperstein reaches to press some buttons on the transducer and the machine. Nancy can feel her heart rate quickening, and wonders if the baby's is doing the same.

The transducer feels odd on her, almost unnatural, but that must mean it's doing its job. It goes much faster than everything else at this office has – the image appears onscreen within seconds. It's difficult to see, nearly all black with only a few white spots, and it looks to be moving.

"What are we looking at?" asks Steve.

"It looks like nothing, I know, but your baby's there. You see those lines that kind of look like a circle? That's the head and the rest of the white lines – the body," Saperstein points to the screen.

Nancy's toothy smile takes up her entire face as the realization washes over her. "Our baby," she says, a lump forming in her throat. Steve brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. When Nancy looks up at him, he has tears welling in his eyes. Neither of them says anything as the image continues to play and Dr. Saperstein rambles on, but his words go ignored. Nancy thinks she's never felt closer to Steve than she does right now. All of her anger and frustration from earlier disappears, and she finds it ridiculous now. How could she ever feel anything but love for the wonderful boy standing above her? He's given her this beautiful, beautiful baby who's nothing but a few lines on the screen, but still, beautiful. She can see herself holding the child, both of them laughing as Steve comes home from work and kisses them both. At night, they all sleep in the same bed and cuddle, joking around about the day's events. Steve grows older, their child grows older. It's a boy, she can feel it. He looks like Steve. He graduates from high school and envelops them both in a bear hug. The older version of Nancy is crying – she's so proud of her baby for making it this far, so proud of Steve and herself for raising him to this very moment.

"I love you. You know that, right?" she interrupts Saperstein mid-explanation and squeezes Steve's hand.

Steve wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses her hair. "I love you, too. I always have."