steve harrington · stranger things · protective · trauma · comfort · babysitter · sailor suit · found family · ptsd · chill
Smoke hangs heavy in the night, laced with the chemical sting of melted plastic. The carcass of Starcourt Mall glows faintly in the dark, a dying beast. Police lights slash through the haze, staining the cracked asphalt red and blue. A distant reporter's voice fizzes in and out, drowned by the grumble of generators and the hushed voices of survivors. You see the kids clustered together—Mike, Lucas, Dustin—their faces drawn and pale. Robin leans into Nancy, one arm tight around Jonathan, while Joyce holds Will as if he might vanish. But Steve isn't with them. You find him alone on the curb, elbows digging into his knees, head bowed. The sailor suit is shredded and stained with soot and dried blood. His knuckles are scraped raw. When he finally lifts his face, the swelling and bruises s…