Steve grumbled under his breath as he watched the rest of the Party head into the Creel house, leaving him behind and among the trees that surrounded it. He didn't really see a problem with going inside, even if the police were looking for him, not two hours after Carver talked about him on the news, the police wouldn't go this far out of town to look for him. Nonetheless, Nancy insisted that Steve stay out of the way and hidden, as if anyone decided to go into the Creel house and found Steve it would be game over for him.

He sort of saw the logic in it. The other part of him thought that it was silly. Who in the world would look for him inside an abandoned house that wasn't even remotely close to the murderers?

But, Nancy was smart. Steve wasn't. So, he listened to her, and hid.

Soon he couldn't hear the others, the walls of the home too thick and their voices no doubt soft, and Steve got bored. Fast. His mind began to wander, and he wished that he had brought something to do. Though, he didn't even know if he would be able to concentrate on it, as nearly all he could focus on was the people inside that building, the dangers that may await them, and the fact that he wasn't there to save them. He told himself that, if he heard one scream, he would run in there without a second thought. If the police caught him trying to save his friends, then that was something he would have to live with. Not that it would be hard. He was willing to die to save his family. Jail time didn't scare him one bit, especially after all of the dangers that he had already faced in his shorter life.

He got up and began pacing, his body itching to pick up a bat, to throw a punch, to do something. Yet he knew that he couldn't do anything. He was told to stay put and stay hidden, so that's what he had to do.

It didn't mean that he had to like it, though.

He didn't know how long he paced for, soon choosing to start collecting trash that had found its way into the woods. He, because of a lack of a garbage bag, made a big pile of junk, complete with empty beverage bottles, plastic containers, paper bags, and so much more. He knew that King Steve would never go near this amount of trash, yet this Steve, the Steve who was basically banned from helping out because of the small risk of getting caught by the cops, was happy for the task. It was something to do.

After he had collected all of the trash that he could see, he began organizing it, getting his hands dirty but not caring one bit.

He didn't know how much time passed, but eventually the task was done, and Steve was ridiculously bored again. Taking a look at the few sticks that laid around, he found the biggest one, one that could be used as a weapon if need be, and did a few practice swings before deeming it good enough to use. It wasn't as good as the nail bat, but it would have to do. And, it's not like he had a choice in the matter. Jonathan had the nail bat, and he probably needed the weapon more than Steve did.

He wondered how Eddie and Jonathan were doing. He didn't have the walkie-talkie, Dustin had taken it into the house, so Steve just had to hope that they were okay.

Though, if everything went according to plan, he would be joining them shortly, and would be able to touch base with them and make sure that they were alive and well.

For now, all he could do was wait and hope.

Once more, he was struck with the helplessness of being put to the sidelines. He wished that he could help them. He wished that he could do something useful.

He sighed tiredly, laying himself down on the grass, trees and bushes surrounding him. Wind brushed against his skin, making his hair gently sway, yet like before he couldn't feel the coolness or warmth of it. The thought made him frown.

He remembered, long before One had started killing kids, El saying that she would help Steve control his powers. All of those promises of training never came to fruition, Steve had begged El to help Robin first, as her powers were more strenuous. Steve could barely handle his own thoughts, he couldn't imagine what it was like for Robin at the beginning, Robin, who could hear everyone's thoughts plus her own. He wanted her to be able to control what she heard, what she felt, so that she could have a little peace. If he had to deal with not feeling temperatures, or emotions, he would deal with it.

At least he got the whole emotion thing figured out. He just had to starve himself to be able to feel sad, or happy. Not that he wanted to starve himself, Robin would kill him, but at least there was a known solution for that.

Feeling temperatures was a different story entirely. He hadn't really felt warm or cold for a prolonged period of time ever since Brenner had tried to find out that he had mind powers, before Steve had nearly drowned. Has it really been that long since he felt cold? Warm?

Steve knew that it wasn't important, but as he lay in the grass, alone, bored, desperate for something to do, he wondered if he could try and feel something again. He would still be ready in case the Party needed him, but maybe he could try and train himself.

Ignoring the part of his brain that screamed for him to help everyone around him, to run into that house and join in on the mission, he took a deep breath and focused on the feel of pressure on his skin, the wind. It was a light pressure, like feathers, but it was enough to focus on.

He didn't know how he was supposed to convince his body that this wind, this temperature, wasn't a threat, so he tried the first thing that came to mind.

This won't hurt you. Steve thought, closing his eyes. You're not in danger here.

He didn't feel any different after he thought those words, and he tried not to get frustrated. He just had to try again.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, focusing on the bird calls around him, on the shining sun that hit his eyes, on the clouds that lazily crossed the sky, nature completely oblivious to the dangers on the ground.

Dangers. Steve still knew that there were dangers.

He didn't know why the word stuck with him so much, yet, as he thought more and more, he realized that he still didn't feel at peace. He knew that danger might be lurking around every corner, lying in wait in the Creel house, waiting to snatch Max from their arms once again. If his mind was still aware of the danger and was expecting it, maybe his body was aware of it, too. Maybe, subconsciously, he wasn't letting his body relax or let down its guard, meaning that he couldn't feel temperatures. His skin was trying to protect him from dangers, even things that wouldn't hurt him, like warmth or coldness.

His theory felt like it was a far stretch. But, with nothing else to do, he thought about it more and more, and decided to try to feel things once again. This time, though, he would have to convince himself, both his mind and body, that he wasn't in danger, that it could be at peace.

He didn't really know how. Yet some part of him knew that he had to. It was about time he got a bit more control of his powers.

And, as he lay alone while the others did the heavy lifting, he couldn't think of anything else better to do.

Taking a deep breath once more, he thought about the first night that he had really felt at peace. It was after a hard, exhausting nightmare, one where he was trapped in the glass cage again, where he couldn't escape or breathe. He remembered waking up, so, so afraid, but being surrounded by Robin and Ms. Byers, both of them providing their comfort, their protection. Ms. Byers had gotten him hot chocolate, and, although he couldn't feel the warmth, it meant more to him than anything. His own parents hadn't even seen him after he had disappeared, so the small but kind parental gesture meant the world to him. They had watched a movie after that, and although he was still scared, he felt like things would get better. He felt more at peace in that moment than he had felt for months before. He felt that things would be okay.

Steve held onto that feeling, that memory, and found himself smiling. His chest didn't feel as tight with anxiety, whether it was the memory or his powers he didn't know, but he was thankful for it.

He had felt at peace, at that moment. And he felt a bit at peace now.

Soon he felt warm. He felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, the few seconds of cool wind that brushed against him, and laughed.

He couldn't remember the last time that he had felt this warm. It was as if he was being wrapped in a warm hug, surrounded by comfort and rest. The grass tickled his exposed skin, and he didn't care.

Pride swelled in his stomach, and he opened his eyes, squinting because of the bright light of the sun, feeling lighter than ever. He sat up, laughing, wanting to feel all of the sensations that he had missed, wanting to run inside the house and tell Robin the amazing news, yet held himself back. It was worth celebrating, yet not a big enough victory to possibly get arrested for.

Thoughts of awaiting dangers crept back into his mind, and he chose not to dwell on them. He had finally managed to control his powers. He managed to feel warm again. He was able to feel happy.

Waiting and hiding didn't seem like that big of a chore anymore. All Steve did was sit in the sun, basking in the warmth he had been starved of, his mind full of hope and light and warmth.

Steve didn't know how, but the group spent the majority of the day at the Creel house. Steve wasn't worried about them, he could faintly hear words every so often, as if they all had decided to talk louder than before, and knew that Nancy or Robin would immediately get him if something went wrong. Yet, it felt a bit odd that they had spent so much time there.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, bathing the house in a dark shadow that made it even more creepy, and Steve sat up. The air around him was cooling down, he could feel the wind grow colder and stronger, yet four words cut off the sensation, as if his body was preparing for a fight.

"Steve! Robin needs help!"

Steve jumped to his feet as Dustin ran up to him, the young boy's face flushed in panic, eyes blown wide.

"What? What happened?" He exclaimed, picking up the big stick that sat beside him, and Dustin pointed towards the house.

"Vecna's attacking someone, Robin's going into his mind again to fight him, and she's not doing too well!"

"How long? How long has she been fighting him?" Steve asked, and Dustin met his eyes.

"Long. Way too long. We didn't want to come and get you if we didn't have to, but it's bad!"

Steve wanted to reply, wanted to ask why they thought him being protected was more important than saving Robin, yet he said nothing. He rushed towards the house, taking the steps two at a time, following the loud voices through the halls.

"Robin! Wake up! You can't fight him!" Nancy exclaimed, her voice breaking through the loud mess of words.

"I can't let him kill anyone else!" Robin screamed back, and Steve ran faster. Eventually he found them, all of them tightly grouped around Robin, whose eyes were closed. Blood dripped down from her nose in a steady stream, and her limbs shook from where she sat. Her face was twisted in concentration, and her hands gripped her knees desperately, as if searching for strength that didn't appear to be there.

"Robin!" Steve said, dropping the stick and sliding down beside her. One of her hands reached for his. He held onto it, sending his healing power into her, hoping that he could at least stop the nose bleed. "Talk to me, Robs."

"He's…he's stronger, this time. And his victim doesn't know how to escape!"

"He doesn't have music." Max added soberly, and Steve nodded, wracking his brain for any ideas on what to do.

"Who is it?"

"Patrick. From the basketball team." Lucas said, "I'm not very close to him."

Steve held back a groan. If Lucas didn't know him too well, and Stevedidn't know the kid at all, Robin probably didn't, either…they wouldn't know what memory might save him, much less a song that would save his life.

"There's no portal." Robin gasped out, shaking even more, tears falling from her closed eyes, "He can't escape."

"Hit One with all you have. Throw rocks, wood, pieces of that house, anything! On the drive here, didn't you mention that you had telepathy like El when you're in One's mind? Use that."

"I've been trying!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm going to try and get in there. Stay strong, Rob."

Robin didn't reply, and Steve fully sat down on the ground, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, like when he and Robin talked to El, back in the desert. Yet, he found it difficult to concentrate with the chorus of voices still talking around him. Distantly he wondered if his body would be able to drown them out. It didn't look like it would.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Dustin asked, and Steve took a deep breath.

"Getting into his mind too."

"Can you even do that? I thought only Robin could!" Mike exclaimed with confusion.

"I have to try!"

Raising his voice did the trick, everyone fell silent around them, the only sound being Robin's labored breathing, and a distant crackling of a walkie-talkie.

All Steve could see was darkness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a way into One's mind, or even Robin's. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe he couldn't do this.

But he still tried. He would always try.

Minutes passed, and he continued to try and break in, trying to help Robin, and Robin struggled in front of him. Soon she let out a sob, and Steve opened his eyes, rushing to her side.

"Robin?"

"He's gone." She said weakly. "He's dead. One killed him. I couldn't…I couldn't save him."

A collective murmur went through the group, everyone no doubt heartbroken that they let another teen die.

Steve wanted to scream out in frustration. One was still winning, despite how hard they fought, or how hard they tried. They weren't any closer to figuring out how to hurt him, and it felt like they were going in circles. And Robin was the one suffering for it.

With that thought, he focused his attention back onto her, expecting her to be awake, her eyes open, and tired. Yet, when he saw her, her eyes were still firmly shut, and she sat still. She wasn't shaking, her hands were not holding anything, and she was frozen, like a statue.

"Robin?" Steve asked, shaking her shoulders gently, and she didn't respond. "Robin?"

Nancy crouched down beside them, snapping her fingers in front of Robin's face. "Come on, wake up, Robin."

"Did this happen before?" Dustin asked, and Mike nodded.

"Back in the car, but it didn't last this long."

Steve began shaking her even more, desperate for her to wake up.

"Robin, wake up! Robin!"

No matter how loudly he yelled, or how hard he shook her, she didn't wake up.

"Robin!"