Chapter Text
Steve Harrington watched from the other side of the gym as Robin and Vickie talked. It was hard to hear the words they were saying over the commotion of all the relief work that was being done, so he tried to read their lips while he folded donated shirts. He swore it wasn’t eavesdropping, just a vested interest in the love life of one of his best friends.
Yeah, no. That was a complete lie. He sighed, and started a new pile. Living vicariously through Robin wasn’t going to get him anywhere, and why was he so upset about that anyway? Hell, the world had practically ended two days ago. The day before yesterday he was fighting creatures from another dimension, people were dying, and the ground was splitting open like a goddamn open wound. Max was in the hospital, Eddie was… no, he refused to get caught up in that again.
He thought their failure would be the worst part of this whole situation, but in reality, he was being consumed by guilt, and he didn’t even know why. It hadn’t been his plan, it wasn’t his idea to have Munson or Mayfield be bait, and yet it somehow felt like what happened had been all his fault. Maybe if he had been able to fight off those vines… but that was stupid. It was pointless to think about. So why not focus on the few good things that were happening in their lives? He glanced back up at Robin, saw her smile and her blush as she made sandwiches next to the girl she had been pining after for months, and he was glad.
Of course even that happiness had to be interrupted. Steve winced, dropping the t-shirt he had been holding to press his hand to his side. The bites had been easy to ignore with everything else going on, but the sharp stabs of pain were getting more frequent, and more intense. He heard gasps and he opened his eyes, hand still firmly pushed against his ribs. Did someone see him being weird? Was he about to be the next pariah blamed for the town’s problems? But looking around, he saw all eyes were drawn to the windows on his left. He turned, and for a moment even his pain was forgotten.
Clouds. Dark and roiling, spewing ash like a volcano had erupted in the middle of Hawkins. In a way he guessed it did. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Henderson limp out the doors, and followed him along with the rest of the crowd. They were all staring at the sky with all the shock they could muster. It was hard to feel incredibly concerned after all that had happened in such a short amount of time, but even then, Steve could feel a familiar dread grow at the nape of his neck, dripping down his spine like frigid water until it pooled cold and heavy in the bottom of his stomach.
Steve didn’t consider himself the smartest or wisest member of their group. Dustin knew the lore, Nancy had the plans, he wasn’t more than a glorified babysitter most of the time. But even he could tell as he stared at the blackening sky, that something was coming. Something bad.
Miles and dimensions away, the corpse of Edward Munson was slowly being absorbed. Writhing vines and wisps of dark smoke surrounded him, but not even that could stop the flashes of silent red lighting from illuminating a pale hand, covered in silver rings, and beginning to move.