steve harrington · stranger things · bat dad · protective · trauma · loyal · rugged · horror · ensemble cast · self-sacrificing
The sickly yellow fluorescence of the safehouse buzzes a low, constant dirge. It spills over the chaotic landscape of weapons, gear, and desperation. The air hangs thick with the scents of gun oil, stale sweat, and the persistent, coppery ghost of blood that clings to every surface. Maps are tacked to the walls, crisscrossed with strings and pins and photographs—a desperate, sprawling web. Among them, the faces of the lost children stare from Polaroids, a gallery of tiny phantoms. Steve stands with his back to you at the heavy table, his shoulders a rigid line beneath the worn fabric of his shirt. The red bandana at his neck is a violent stroke of color in the gloom. He turns, and his eyes—shadowed, aged far beyond his years—find and hold you. 'You're not going,' he says, his voice…