Work Text:
Steve shouldn’t be surprised really, that the Russians didn’t all die in the fires encasing Starcourt. Shouldn’t be surprised that a lot of them got out, and scooped him up off the curb he was sitting on, throwing him into the back of a van with an unconscious Hopper, who he’s pretty sure Joyce had just told him was dead.
But here he is, tied up against Hops back, with a bag over his head. Which in hindsight feels a little redundant, cause he already saw all their faces and the back of the van didn’t even have windows so that was the point of the hood really? But it was whatever honestly, Steve was just happy no one’s taken out a bone saw yet. Although the fucking clicking noise coming from somewhere in the van they were in doesn’t bode well for them, because he’s more then certain that’s what a fucking Demogorgon sounds like when its not screaming in your face.
“Hopper, you awake over there?” Steve breaths out, leaning his head back against the other man.
“Harrington? What the fuck are you doing here?” Hopper's voice is rough, and hoarse.
“Turns out they don’t like when you escape being tortured by them. Who knew?” Steve laughs, because that’s all he can do. If he doesn’t he'll probably start crying, and that’s honestly not the mind state he needs to be in right now. He’s thankful Robin and the kids got out, that they are safe, and a part of him, a part that makes him feel awful for even thinking it, is happy Hopper’s here with him, because at least there's an adult here that can help, that cares .
“Torture? Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Aw come on Hop, it’s the Russians man, of course they are gonna tor-” Steve cuts off with a pained gasp, as someone’s boot comes out and makes contact with his already bruised side.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Keep your hands off him!” Steve can hear Hopper yell, but it sounds far away as he tries to reign back in the flaring heat on his side from the kick. He’d almost forgotten in his drug induced haze, that he probably had more than a few broken ribs. He focuses on taking deep breaths, trying to ignore the fact that for some reason his anxiety wants him to focus on the sound of the Demogorgon in the van with them. It’s clicking having gotten louder after Steve was kicked, and he’s positive the jostling probably caused fresh blood to come from one of his cuts, so the Demogorgon was probably smelling it and was going to try to eat him and he-
“Steve you need to fucking breath, kid.” Hopper presses his own back firmly against Steve’s, the pressure grounding him back from the spiral he hadn't even realized he’d fallen into.
“I’m good, yeah I’m good Hop.”
“Jesus kid, don’t scare me like that.” There’s a sharp sound to Steve’s left before suddenly he feels a needle going into his neck and panic surges to the surface again. He can hear Hopper trying to calm him, but whatever the fuck they just put into his blood stream works fast, and before Steve can start hyperventilating , he’s out like a light.
The next time Steve’s aware of himself again, the bag over his head is being yanked off roughly enough, he can feel the flakes of the dry blood on his face pulled off and floating around in the air before settling.
“Jesus, warn a guy.” Steve grumbles, trying to get his eyes to focus on the faces in the room. It takes a while, but eventually he can make out an older man standing in front of him with a, God damn it, that’s a fucking bone saw . It’s not on though, so that’s kind of a good sign, but Steve can make out the dried blood in the blades and he has to fight off the full body shiver that pulls out of him. Steve can tell they are talking, but it’s definitely in Russian, and he’s way too tired to even try and pretend he understands what they are saying, so he just sits there, waiting, and wondering where they’d taken Hopper.
Although his wondering doesn’t last long because he can hear a loud ‘ fuck you’ coming from the direction of the door connected to his room, and he knows that’s Hoppers gruff voice screaming it. The old man in front of him stops whatever rant he was going on in Russian to his partner and they both look at the door, before looking back at Steve.
“You will work well as the test subject. He is too… aggressive.” The old man drones in a thick accent. Steve’s swimming head takes a second to understand what he’s saying, but once the words settle his stomach cramps with unease.
“Test Subject?”
“Da. We are in need of someone to… how do you say… bond with the monsters. You seem susceptible enough to the drugs we have already used on you. So we will be making you our first test on this.” And Steve has no idea what the fuck this guy is saying, except that Steve’s probably never going to want to even smoke weed again after the amount of bad trips he’s probably going to have. But suddenly they are rolling the chair he’s strapped to, into another room where he can make out the faint clicking of the Demogorgon they’d brought with them.
The closer they get to the clicking, the colder Steve goes, the words bond and monster echoing around in his head, and this again shouldn't surprise him, that commies are willing to do something like this to an 18 year old, but he’s struggling in his restraints now, panic clutching his heart as they make their way past the enclosure that so obviously holds the Demogorgon, and roll him to be sitting in front of an all glass room, that in the middle has a large glass case holding- Oh my God is that a piece of the fucking mind flayer? How the hell had they managed to capture all these things?
“You guys are fucking insane.” Steve spits, rolling his head to look at the old man next to him. This ones in a lab coat and is writing down something on his clipboard when he turns to look back at Steve. He sizes him up before turning to the other lab coat next to him and whispering something. Steve’s eyes narrow when the other lab coat pulls out a syringe of orange liquid, filling it up a bit more before making his way over the Steve, and with no fuckin warning, shoving the damn thing into his neck. Steve tries to hold back the scream he wants to emit at the searing pain the liquid seems to bring, but a small bit of the yell escapes him, and the lab coat smirks motioning to whoever is behind Steve’s chair.
And suddenly Steve is moving again, being pushed towards the glass room in front of him, and he starts pulling on his restraints, yelling at them to fucking stop, or let him go or something, he’s not even really sure what he’s saying, he just knows he can’t go into that room. He’ll fucking die if he goes into that room, but his protests go ignored before he’s suddenly being lifted off the chair and unceremoniously shoved into the glass room. The door slamming loudly behind him as he falls forward onto his face. He can feel his nose crack a little where he lands, and a part of him hopes it just set it back from the punches he was getting, however many hours ago, under the mall.
Groaning he pushed his hands under him to stand up, the binds around his wrist already rubbing the skin raw. His eyes fall right on the other box in the room, the black swirl of smoke angrily slamming against its confines. Stupidly, because no one ever really said Steve was smart, he takes a step towards the box, and the smoke calms momentarily, pressing close to the side of its cage that’s closest to Steve. He takes a step back just as a loud buzzer sound echo's around the room and the fucking walls holding in the smoke drop, freeing the Flayer into the room with Steve.
“Oh fuck.” He breaths, taking another step back as the smoke slithers across the floor towards him, snaking between his ankles and up his legs.
“Listen man, we really don’t have to do this. I can give you so much information on things.” Steve yells out towards where the lab coats are sitting, writing on their little clipboards. One of them leans forwards a bit, pressing a button in front of him and a thick accented voice trickles into the air around him.
“Do something.” Is all it says, and Steve rolls his eyes, the smoke trickling around his neck now. The last thing he feels before being sucked into the void, is the smoke caressing his cheek.
~~
Hoppers has been pacing his cell for hours at this point he's sure of it, but he still hasn’t seen hide nor hair of Steve since they were pulled from the van. His entire nervous system is alight with worry, and there’s a sharp fear in his gut that something has gone so terribly wrong with the kid, that he might not ever see him again. Dimitri, the guard stationed outside his cell, keeps shooting him dirty looks when he rattles the bars and screams for someone to tell him where the hell Harrington is, but Hoppers not even the least bit inclined to give a shit.
Steve’s one of his kids. In a weird, we all save the world together and he takes care of El for me sometimes kinda way, but the point still stands that Steve is one of his and he’ll be damned if these guys think he won’t tear them limb from limb to find him.
“You are an awfully loud person.” Dimitri grumbles, sliding down into the bench across from Hopper's cell. “Last I heard he was still alive.” He offers out. Hoppers head whips to look at him, stepping as close to the bars that he physically can.
“Where is he?”
“I think he is in the lab.”
“And why the hell are you telling me this? How can I believe anything coming out of your mouth?” Hopper’s hands come up to shake the bars roughly, leaning his head against them.
“I also have a son.” Is all he offers, before standing up and continuing his rounds. Ignoring Hoppers yells to come back.
~
Two weeks, it’s been two weeks since Dimitri confirmed that Steve was alive, and Hopper still hasn’t even gotten a glimpse of the kid. Dimitri seems determined to avoid him after their short conversion the other day, and Hoppers pretty sure he’s about to lose his fucking mind, when the side door to his cell is opened, and a limp body is thrown in with him.
“He’ll need to go back in an hour.” Dimitri snaps, pulling the door shut again, and making his way towards the stairs.
“Steve?” Hopper’s by his side in an instant, kneeling down and pulling his head up into his lap gently. Steve blinks up at him a few times, his eyes going in and out of focus, before sharpening suddenly.
“Hopper? Is it really you?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming a lot, and Hopper's heart squeezes in his chest.
“Yea kid it’s me, are you okay?” Steve laughs humorlessly.
“Define okay, Hop.” He coughs, trying to lean up on his arm and wincing when he puts pressure on it. Hoppers instantly pulling him up slowly into sitting position and leaning him against the wall of the cell, pulling Steve’s loose sleeve up to look at his arm. There’s three long stitched over gashes in it, that look swollen and possibly infected, but Steve’s reaching up to pull the sleeve back down, rolling his head to look at Hopper.
“They’ve got a Demogoron, and a piece of the Mind Flayer.” It’s all he offers, with a soft smile, squeezing Hopper's hand gently. “Oh man Hop, you really look old now with that haircut.” He tries to laugh, but it's cut short with a wince, and the longer they interact, the more Hopper's blood begins to boil, his heart breaking in his chest looking at the boy in front of him.
“You’re starting to look like that Munson kid I’m always arresting, with how long your hair’s getting.” Hopper offers back, trying to add a light tone to his words, but his worry coats them heavily. Steve winces out another laugh.
“Aw man Hop, don’t go comparing me to nerds now, it’s gonna ruin my rep.” He slides down the wall slightly as he talks, pulling his injured arm across his stomach. “I think the Demogorgon they have is Dustin's old buddy Dart, and man, don’t ever tell him I said this, but every time I look at that damn thing, it makes me miss that shit head even more than I already do.’” Hopper chuckles softly at that, crawling over to sit with his shoulder pressed against Steve's, he looks too skinny, too gaunt and drawn out, and Hop can only imagine how fucking cold he is in this Russian winter.
“It’s really fucking good to see you kid.” He offers out, eyes cataloging the bruising under Steve’s and the stark red burn mark on his neck. The more he notices the more his heart seems to crack and crack in his chest. Steve hums.
“You too Hop. It’s really fucking great to see a familiar face that isn’t spewing hate at me.” He closes his eyes, wiggling in closer to Hopper's side, and Hop brings an arm up to rest over Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer to his warmth.
“What do you mean by that, kid?” But Steve just hums in response, his breathing evening out.
Hopper has no fucking idea what to do. The wheezing in and out of Steve’s breaths echoing in the cell around them. How much longer can this- Jesus this fucking kid keep going on like this? How much longer till his body just gives out, and Hoppers just got a corpse to bring back home with him.
Steve’s startled awake by Dimitri opening the cell door and coming in.
“He has to go back now, before they realize he’s gone.” Hopper's entire body freezes. “I know you can fight Jim, but trust me when I tell you, it’ll be better if you don’t fight me on this. I have heard rumors of them getting him in better shape now that they’ve perfected whatever serum they want to keep using on him. So he will get better.”
“That sounds like a bunch of horse shit Dimitri and you know it.” The guard shrugs, coming over and lifting Steve off the ground pulling one of his arms over his shoulders to carry the weight better.
“Believe me or not, but I’m taking him back.”
“Bye Hop.” Steve breaths, offering Hopper a small wave, and Hopper feels his entire heart shatter right there on the floor of that Russian prison cell.
“I’ll figure out a way to get us outta here kid I promise.” Steve just smiles softly at him, and Dimitri leads him towards the stairs.
I’ll get you home Steve
Hopper sends the thought out into the universe, praying that whatever kind of entity is out there listens to him, and lets him fulfill that promise.
The next time Hopper see’s Steve, he's happy in knowing he can tell the kid he'd managed to get a message out to Joyce. Although he’s not sure if she’s gotten it, but at least it’s a start. This time when Dimitri brings him to the cell, Steve at least walks on his own, and it lifts a weight off Hopper's chest.
“Hey Hop.” Steve's voice is still hoarse, and he’s favoring his right side, but he seems to have put on some muscle since he’d last seen him so that's another good improvement, although his face is still gaunt and far too skinny.
“Hey Kid.” Hopper makes his way over to sit next to where Steve had plopped down on the edge of his cot, gently bumping their shoulders together so not to jostle him too much. He feels Steve lean heavily into the touch.
“How long have we been here now?” Steve asks, his hand coming up to card through his hair, and Hopper notices the three gashes on his arm seem to have healed now, but he’s got new ones littered across the old scars. There’s a nasty looking jagged one stitched on his neck that disappears under his shirt, and not for the first time Hopper wishes they could trade places.
“Little over 2 months I think. It’s hard to keep track, some days.” Steve hums in response, leaning a little harder against Hopper. The way his head is angled shows Hopper the clear track marks on his neck from whatever drugs they’ve been pumping into him. He sees red briefly before Steve’s quiet voice brings him back.
“They seem to want me to befriend Dart. That’s what all the wounds are from. They inject something in me and then throw me in his cage. It’s getting easier to understand him though, so I’m hoping next time’s the charm and we finally click or whatever.” Steve mumbles, rubbing his face all over Hopper's shoulder, humming happily at the contact. A low rumble comes from his throat, before he sighs.
“I want to go home, Hop.” He sounds so young when he says it, his voice a soft whisper, barely heard over the wind whipping in and out of the cell, and Hopper wants to fucking cry. Because that’s the thing isn’t it? Steve is young, only just an adult in the eyes of the world, but 18 is still a kid, and Steve, even before all this, had gone through more than he ever should have. But this, this is something no adult should even go through, let alone a boy, a child. He’s reminded once again how much of the pressure he’s put on Steve’s shoulders in the past too and it breaks his spirit a little more, because he never should have put any weight on Steve to begin with.
But Steve had always taken it in stride, small complaints here and there about always being the babysitter, but the twinkle in his eyes always told Hopper he didn’t really mind it. But who was watching out for Steve, when Steve was taking on watching out for their kids? He was the oldest of the kids in the Upside Down group, but that didn’t mean he had to always be in charge. That should have been Hopper or Joyce. Even when they tried to thank him, for everything he does for the kids, Steve always just shrugged it off and stated simply ‘ Gotta take care of the things you love, you know?’
But Jesus, who the fuck was taking care of him?
Hopper decides in that moment, looking down as Steve’s eyelids flutter shut and his breathing evens out, that he’s taking on that job from now on, and Steve will always know that Hopper is a safe space, a protector for him.
Dimitri makes his way over to the bench across from his cell a few moments later, his eyes looking sad, even though the rest of his face gives nothing away.
“Still nothing back from your lady friend Jim.” He offers out, leaning back on the bench and watching Steve’s sleeping form. “How’s your kid?” Hopper levels him with a glare.
“How do you think?... I- I don’t know how to help him.” Hopper slumps slightly, trying not to move to much so he doesn’t wake Steve. Dimitris’s entire demeanor softens at that, looking from Hopper to Steve. His shoulders sagging slightly.
“I can try to get another message out in a month. There’s not much else I can do… or my family-” He cuts himself off abruptly, his watch beeping. “I have to take him back now.” Hopper nods, looking down at Steve’s sleeping face, relaxed like this, Hopper can make out the healed over scars that litter it.
“You gotta go back now kid.” He breathes softly, his hand coming up to card through Steve’s hair, waking him gently. Steve hums in his throat again, rubbing his face on Hopper's shoulder some more before sitting up and blinking slowly at him.
“I think I have more vision practice today, so at least I don’t have to try and fight Dart again.” He mumbles, standing up slowly and brushing off the blue prison sanctioned pants they give everyone to wear.
“Vision practice?” Hop muses, watching as Steve stalks to the door of the cell, his eyes cataloging everything in the vicinity.
“They throw me in with the piece of the Mind Flayer that they have. Want to see if whatever drug, gene something they are giving or doing to me, can help keep me from being possessed by it, or thinking the visions it gives me are real or something.” His voice is slow and calculated as it comes out, like he's thinking about every word very thoroughly before he says it. Hopper feels like there’s ice in his veins. Because not only have they been hurting Steve physically, he’s been tortured day after day, mentally as well, and Hoppers not sure how much of Steve he’s going to have left to bring home when this is all over.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He throws out through the bars after Dimitris closes the cell door again.
“Yeah, kid. I’ll see you soon.” Steve offers him a soft smile, before following Dimitri back down those damned stairs again.
~~
Steve is really fucking sick of whatever the fuck is in those food packs they keep giving him. It tastes like cardboard and vomit and it's never enough to really fill him up. He vaguely recognised the words, small rations and survival the other day when one of the scientists tried to speak to him, but he seems to be having an even harder time understanding them than he did when he first got here. He even has to sit and think really hard when Hopper talks to him these days, his brain trying to keep up with the words being said. He’s not sure if it's a side effect from only being allowed to sleep 2 hours a night, or the hits his head seems to keep taking, but he’s hoping it fixes itself soon, or he's afraid he won't be able to even talk to anyone anymore.
Today they want him to go in with Dart again, which really has stopped scaring him as much as it used to. They’d been having him work out more and given him something that he thinks they said helps his muscles build better, so he knows he’s stronger then he was before, but that’s not really why he isn’t scared.
He isn't scared because he’s started to sometimes catch glimpses of what Dart is feeling, even when they aren’t together in his cage anymore, and he’s holding out hope that maybe, maybe whatever the fuck they’ve been doing to him will finally kick in this time around, and he won't sport anymore injuries from the fucker.
“Hey Dart.” Steve breathes as he steps into the cage, his instincts tell him to crouch down low as he slinks forward, making himself less intimidating, although he's not sure if Demogorgons can even see, but that's besides the point. Dart’s head perks up from where he's crouched in the corner, whipping over towards Steve. Steve freezes, hands outstretched slightly, body locked in the crouch he’d taken on, as Dart shuffles slowly towards him.
He’s a little surprised by Darts appearance if he’s being honest. The last few times he’s been in the cage with him, he noticed the Demogorgon filling out slightly, small tufts of fur popping up in random places on his body, he smiles slightly when he notices the tuff that popped up on one of the blue spots on his back is also blue. He looks less and less like any Demogorgon that Steve’s seen before, and he wonders if maybe the Russians are doing that gene thing they mentioned to him as well.
Dart’s face is right by Steve's outstretched hand now, and a small part of him says he should move it if he doesn’t want it bitten off, but a larger part of him is telling him that it’s okay, that Dart actually wants to be near him. He finds out the larger part was right, when suddenly Dart is flinging his entire body into Steve's and clicking wildly, The noise startling Steve enough that Dart quickly backs up away from him and lowers himself slightly to the ground. He is acutely aware that he can feel someone else in his head with him and Steve sits up quickly from where Dart had knocked him down, to look at the monster in front of him.
“Dart?” Steve’s voice comes out a surprised whisper, but Dart instantly reacts, his head perking up slightly, and his butt wiggling, like if he was a dog and had a tail it would be wagging. Steve lets out a breathy laugh, wanting to see how far the weird mind meld goes, offering out a come here in his head to the other presence he can feel wiggling around in there. Dart is instantly in front of him, pressing his head into Steve's shoulder and rubbing all over it.
Steves laughing again, full bodied and loud now, reaching out to pet the slimy little demon as it gets its gunk all over Steve’s shoulder. He can practically feel the happy, sorry, happy, sorry radiating around in his head that’s coming from Dart, The Demogorgon seemingly apologizing for all the times he’s hurt Steve in the past.
“It’s okay buddy, I know you just didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t know you either. But we do now huh boy?” He coos, the excitement and elation at the fact that he won't have to be hurt anymore making Steve feel like a giddy little kid again. Dart although massive, is trying to crawl into Steve’s lap, the human like qualities Demogorgons seem to usually have, have disappeared over the last few weeks for him, Steve knows he can still stand on his hind legs, but he seems to prefer being on four feet now, body bulkier and personality more dog like then anything. Steve is so distracted by him wiggling around in his lap that he doesn't notice the cage door opening, until two guards are grabbing his arms and yanking him out swiftly.
Steve lets out a pained yell when it pulls on the stitches that litter his body and Dart is instantly up on two legs, growling and snarling at the bars. Steve can still feel him in his head though and he knows the rage is directed at the people holding Steve and not at Steve himself. He can feel the unbridled aggression slipping into his own veins once they tase Dart, and suddenly he just sees red, lashing out at the guard closest to him and clasping his hand around his throat. He can feel the tendons moving under his fingers and palm as he squeezes tighter, his fingernails long and sharp cutting into the neck of the guard as he gasps.
The last thing Steve feels before they sedate him, is the guard's windpipe collapsing in his hold, a hot liquid spreading between his fingertips and down his forearm.
Steve should have known things wouldn’t get easier once he finally mind melded with Dart completely. If anything they got worse, being able to feel his own pain and something elses, made his days blend together so harshly, he’s not even sure if he gets a chance to eat or go to the bathroom.
The Russians decided that now that the meld was complete they wanted to test the distance and strength of it. Which seemed to involve a lot of broken bones on Steve’s part, and more days spent with the Mind Flayer smoke than before. If Steve had to guess, he assumes they want to see how the Demogorgon reacts when its counterpart is being tortured. And the torture seems to go both ways, when Steve’s finally given a chance to rest, he can feel them tasing or burning Dart, the pain making his whole body lock up, and the way Dart screams in his head making it hard to even move.
Along with the meld, Steve has also noticed he's a lot faster to anger, red tinting his vision and pushing him towards violence as soon as it happens. He wonders if the guards regret the training regiments they put him through everyday, training him on every way to kill they know how, and getting him stronger with the gene therapy they’ve been doing on him, because he’s pretty sure at this point his body count is five.
He’s tried hard not to think about that too much.
What the fuck is gene therapy anyways? Were the drugs they were giving him altering him in his very DNA? He tries not to think about that too much either, mostly focusing on sending soothing thoughts to Dart, and rambling to him in his head about all the kids back home he misses. He conjures up an image of Dustin at one point, mentally asking Dart if he remembers him, and the happy, friend, happy that swirls around in his head is confirmation enough that he does.
Steve can feel himself changing too, the longer they’re melded, his instincts seem to have heightened and some of his senses seem stronger, but he’s not sure if that’s him or if he can just catalog what Dart is smelling and recognise it better than his mind counterpart.
But they haven’t let him anywhere near Dart since they fully melded, and it's starting to feel like Steve’s missing a limb he didn’t even know he had, the longer they are separated, and he can tell Dart is starting to feel the same way.
Today when he wakes up, his head is quiet, and he searches around till he can find Dart, curled up in the corner of his brain sleeping. It’s so weird, seeking out something he was once convinced would be listed as his cause of death on his death certificate, but Steve’s pretty sure at this point, Dart is as much his as he is Dart’s and there’s probably no going back from that. He’s thinking about Hopper, and how he isn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s seen him, when he feels Dart stir awake in his head. The questioning feeling coming from him causes Steve to explain who Hopper is, and that if Steve’s ever unable to tell Dart what's going on, that he needs to default to listening to Hopper, and Hopper will protect him, like he tries to always protect Steve since they’ve been here.
It’s a little weird the way he and Dart communicate, because Dart doesn't speak any language, although he seems to understand most. He’s more just feelings than thoughts that Steve’s been slowly trying to catalog so he can make sure he always knows what his counterpart is needing. Steve can feel Dart pacing around his enclosure, when the guards come into his cell to retrieve him today, and he flinches harshly when they grab his broken wrist. He can feel Dart clicking angrily in his head but before he even has the chance to react much more than the harsh inhale at the pain, he feels the sting of a needle in his neck and he’s out cold.
~~~
Hopper is worried.
Dimitri hasn’t been able to bring him Steve in 2 months, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take not seeing the kid alive with his own two eyes, and he needs to tell Steve that they finally got ahold of Joyce, and that her and Murray are working on finding a way to them by the end of next month.
He just needs to know his kid is okay. He’s pacing in his cell at this point, trying to warm his body back up after working on the railroad all day, when the side door to his cell opens, and in slinks Steve. A predator's walk if Hopper had ever seen one, and his heart sinks to his toes. Steve's got his wrist braced, and new cuts littering his still too skinny face, but he's bulked up a lot, his clothing too tight around the muscles he's gained. Hopper rushes forward, but stops when Steve flinches back from the fast movements.
“Sorry, sorry, Jesus, sorry kid.” Hopper puts his hands up in a placating motion when Steve looks at him again. His eyes cataloging every bit of Hopper. “Steve?” He nods at Hopper, going to sit down in the corner of the room, eyes never not flashing around and watching everything.
“He hasn’t spoken since I got to him today.'' Dimitri offers out, sitting on the bench across from the cell where he usually spends his days talking to Hopper now. “He seems a bit, ah what's the word, not mental..”
“Catatonic?” Hopper offers out, sliding down on the wall a few feet from Steve so as not to startle him.
“Yes, that's the one.” Dimitri snaps his fingers, and Steve’s eyes swing to him, taking him in.
“Steve?” Hopper tries again, offering his hand palm up to the boy. Steve stares at it for a few minutes, before sliding off the wall and slinking over to Hopper crawling under his arm to press himself into his side rubbing his face where it lands. Steve lets out a soft hum, and Hopper can feel his muscles relaxing as he settles. Hopper feels like he’s going to be sick, or cry, his eyes shooting a pleading look at Dimitri who’s watching on with sad eyes.
“Steve, I got a hold of Joyce.” Hopper whispers, carding his fingers through Steve's matted hair. He can feel the dried blood that's sticking to it, and he has to swallow around the bile in his throat. Steve perks up slightly, turning so his ear faces Hopper better. “Her and Murray, a good friend, are going to come get us soon. We’re gonna go home.” Steve sits up suddenly, large frantic eyes locking on Hoppers as he seems to process through what was being said to him.
“Home?” He whispers, a spark of hope flashing in his irises.
“Yea, Kid. Home.”
“Dart needs to come too.” He nods, like he's making a decision in his head. “We’re connected.”
Hopper's bones feel ice cold, at the clipped way Steve’s talking to him. He sounds so much like how El used to, when he’d first taken her in and he can feel tears spring to his eyes at the thought. Steve’s never been a rambler, but he talks, never one to stay quiet for long unless he's thinking or sleeping, and the fact that he’s barely said anything to Hopper since getting there has him terrified for his mental state.
“Alright kid, if you can trust it, that’s fine.”
“We’re connected.” He states again, nodding, before curling into Hopper's side again, and Hopper's eyes find Dimitri.
“It’s been bad.” He offers to Hopper. Looking where Steve seems to have fallen asleep. Hopper wonders if they ever let the poor kid sleep, or if this is just the only time he feels safe enough to, when he’s pressed to Hopper's side.
“Once the meld happened, it got a lot worse.” Dimitri speaks again, his eyes haunted. “Although besides a sedative, I don’t think they’ve been giving him any more drugs. I think whatever chemicals they were trying to altar in him have taken full effect now and he doesn't need doses anymore. I don’t think you could take him without the monster. They seem to be… ah what's the saying….. One and the same now.”
Hoppers not really sure how he feels about that. How far does the connection go? Is Dart even safe to have around? Is Steve safe to have around anymore, if he shares a mind with that thing?
He looks down at the kid curled into his side and sighs, because honestly anything connected to Steve is probably the safest thing to be around if you were one of Steve’s people. He wonders how many of the guards Dart killed for hurting Steve. It brings a weird warmth to his chest, to think about the fact that in a way, Steve will never have to feel alone again, now that he’s got something sharing that head of his. Hopper knows the stories, knows the Harringtons haven’t been around much if at all over the years, and he remembers a 10 year old Steve calling the police station one night, just to talk to Hopper because he was lonely. He hopes, if anything good can come out of this awful, awful thing that’s happened, it's that Steve doesn't have to feel so lonely anymore, sharing his head with something else. He hopes Dart is good, no matter how weird this whole thing is.
Dimitris' watch beeping brings Hopper out of his head and he looks up at the other man as he opens the side door to the cell.
“Steve, I’m so sorry, but you have to go back now.” Hopper whispers, running his hands through his hair some more. Steve lets out a soft whine, pulling back from Hopper and searching his face with his eyes.
“Home soon?” Hopper's heart breaks a little more.
“Soon, kid. Just hang on a little longer okay?” Steve nods before following Dimitri out of the cell and down those fucking stairs again.
When Dimitri comes running up to Hopper's cell a little over two weeks after the last time he’d brought Steve, Hopper instantly thinks he’s going to tell him that Steve’s dead. His entire body locks up where he’s been pacing and he braces himself for the news.
“Joyce and Murray are here. The prisons going into lock down, the monster is loose and we need to find Steve, now.” Relief floods Hopper as he flies out of the cell door Dimitri just unlocked.
“Take me to my kid, now.” Hopper barks out, rushing down those fucking stairs he always sees Steve disappear down, Dimitri hot on his heels telling him which direction to turn. They both freeze when a loud roar echoes around the prison walls, a large white Demogorgon climbing up from the center ring and landing in front of them. Hopper tries to catalog it, tries to find the blue spots on its back he knows Dart has, but he doesn't see anything that indicates this is Dart, and he realizes the Russians have had another Demogorgon this entire time.
They didn’t plan on this, in any of their escape plans and Hoppers trying to think on his feet, when another deeper, nastier growl echoes from behind where the Demogorgon is standing in front of them. When the white Demogorgon turns around to face whatever made that noise, Hopper kind of wants to throw up when he get a good view of what he assumes is Dart, because that fucker is huge , practically bear sized, tuffs of fur littering his body, but his bright blue spots on his back extremely noticeable. He holds his hand up to stop Dimitri, waiting to see what happens.
They stand frozen, as Dart leaps forward, his flower mouth opening and sinking into the neck of the white Demogorgon, tumbling over the railing back into the circle below them. Hopper rushes over to the side to make sure Dart is okay, because if he's connected to Steve then getting hurt could cause Steve to get hurt, and he’s not sure how comfortable he feels with that knowledge.
He watches as Dart circles the pale Demogorgon, looking for an opening to attack and if he hadn’t been paying attention Hopper wouldn’t have seen the feint for what it was. The Demogorgon lunges as Dart goes low, twisting to grapple at the back hip in a crippling blow. Before starting to circle once again, this time striking deep gouges geared to bleed more than hinder.
He watches as Dart does this again and again before realizing that Dart is methodically tearing the monster apart. Dragging out the other creatures' pain as only a sentient with a grudge could manage.
“Hop!” Joyces voice suddenly rings out across from him, pulling his attention away from the fight down below, and it's like his whole world tunnels in to lock on to the woman in front of him.
“Joyce.” He breaths, his stomach clenching at the sight of her before him. He’s struggling to keep the hot tears he can feel springing to his eyes from falling as he takes her in. Everything he’s been trying to ignore, all the pain and fear he’s kept pushed deep, deep down in his head seeming to want to burst to the surface suddenly. He realizes just how much he’s missed her and his family back home, and how hard he’s been trying to stay strong for Steve as he’s rushing forward and wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to him. He can feel a part of himself finally relaxing at having her in his arms again.
“Really love that you guys are getting your shit together, at this specific moment, but where's the kid? We gotta get going.” Murray’s voice cuts through the tunnel and Hopper's laughing for the first time in months as he pulls the other man into the hug as well, before pulling back and looking over at Dimitri.
“Alright let’s go get my kid.” Joyce shoots Hopper a soft questioning look before falling in line next to them as Dimitri leads them down more stairs to the basement.
“It’s over here. The cell they keep him in.” Dimitri offers, unlocking and throwing open the door, the smell is what hits them all first. A mix of vomit, and shit circling in the air so heavily it causes them all to gag.
Hoppers pushes past everyone in an instant, rushing into the room where he can see a limp form curled up in the corner of the room, as far away from where Hoppers assumes he had to make a bathroom for himself in the months spent locked in here. Steve’s bulked out even more in the two weeks its been since Hopper saw him, but the fucking laserations cross crossing on his back are new and gaping, no stitches in sight, and they look so much like a Demogorgons claws, Hopper just knows it wasn’t Dart who did it though, which means they’d been having Steve fight the other monster that is here. Fuck, fuck Hoppers trying not to spiral, seeing red as he tries to make his way towards the unconscious boy.
“Um, Hopper…” Joyces voice brings his attention to her, where a deep growl is coming from behind them, Murray, Joyce and Dimitri sliding out from in front of the door to reveal Dart, crouched on all fours, his flower mouth partially opened.
“Everybody just back up and let him through.”
“What the hell, Hopper that’s a fucking monster.” Murray snaps, looking back and forth from Dart to Hopper.
“It’s okay, they’re connected.” Hopper looks over at Dart as he forces his way into the room through the too small door, standing on his back legs and sniffing Hopper once, before rubbing his face on his shoulder the same way Steve has started to. He can feel a few gasps from the onlookers, but allows Dart to pass and scoop Steve up, cradling him to his chest before turning to Hopper, seeming to wait on his direction.
Hopper's heart swells, that Steve trusts him so much that his monster would default to him in a time of crisis. He can see Steve stirring slightly in Dart's arms, his heavy lidded eyes peeking out to look over in Hopper's direction.
“Hop? Home?” Steve breathes, eyes searching for an answer on Hopper's face. Hopper nods slightly trying to offer up a smile to the boy, but he knows it comes out more of a grimace. Steve nods back, sighing slightly.
“Thanks, Dad.” He breaths out, before falling back into unconsciousness. Hopper's heart shatters irreparably right there, the pieces scattering across the prison cell and imbedding into the walls.
He’ll be damned if his boy ever goes through anything remotely this horrible again. That’s his kid. His.
“Alright lets get the fuck out of here and go home.”