Chapter Text
The wind was cold and dry, sticks and leaves crumpled under his shoes as he walked. Faintly in the distance he could hear the loud clamor of conversation. Jonathan Byers was out late in the woods again, looking for his missing brother. He’d been looking for several days now, and he was getting quite restless.
Deep into his search, he came across an unfamiliar house with the loud rattle of people echoing from the backyard. As he came closer, the voices became more and more familiar. From behind the bushes, he could finally see the faces of Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, and Steve Harrington, the few people who tormented him the most at school. The sounds of their immature jokes and deafening laughter made his ears ring.
The sound of Harrington's voice in particular was more than irritating. The cocky tinge in every word he spoke made Jonathan nauseated. But for some reason, despite the constant harassment, Jonathan couldn’t help but stare. Without much thought, Jonathan raised the camera in his hand and took a few pictures. With every click of his camera he convinced himself he was just collecting evidence. Taking the photos to recall the nights after his brother disappeared. But for some odd reason, the gaze of the camera lens kept shifting onto Harrington.
He took photos of Harrington and his friends in the pool, shot-gunning beers, canoodling his girlfriend. Usual party stuff. Stuff Jonathan has never really got to witness. Being the freak of the school, he didn’t get invited to a lot of parties.
As the party dragged on and people left, he started to walk away before noticing Barba Holland all alone by the pool. He took one quick photo of her, before his camera shifted to Harrington's open bedroom window. With the slip of his finger, he managed to click one singular candid photo of the man taking his shirt off.
Quickly realizing his stupid mistake, he ran off, giving up his search for the night. He went home, shamefully shuffling his way through the front door.
The next day at school, Jonathan was spending his time in the darkroom, developing his photos from the previous night. He was still telling himself all these photos were just to collect evidence, but even as he said it in his head, he realized how idiotic he sounded. He really just didn’t want to admit to being a pervert. As he dipped each photo into the different buckets and hung them up, he stumbled across his little mishap. As he dipped the paper into the developer and watched the image appear, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck. He felt like he was handling something repulsive.
Just as he was feeling disgusted with himself, one of Harrington's irrelevant friends walked through the door, noticing the various photos he was clearly not permitted to have taken.
She was in here to do her business, just as he was. But he had already hastily pulled his photos off the clothespins and shoved them in his bag, leaving without saying a word. Somehow in his haste, Harrington's friend still managed to glimpse at the photos.
After that, throwing the mistake photo away seemed to slip his mind. At least that's what he told himself. He couldn’t pull out a photo like that and just throw it away. He had to wait until he got home.
As he walked out of the school and into the parking lot, the familiar clatter of laughter assaulted his ears. It was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, hurdled next to Steve Harrington as their ugly cackles polluted the air. But along with them was the nameless girl from the darkroom. Jonathan tried to keep his head down and walk away.
“Hey, man.” Harrington's voice blared through his ears, his tone indicating he was not trying to be nice.
Jonathan just stared blankly at the man, waiting for whatever Harrington was going to taunt him with.
“Nicole here was just uh telling us about your work.” That smug grin he always carried on his face was beaming as Harrington spoke, his minions next to him agreeing to whatever he said. “And we’d love to take a look, yaknow as connoisseurs of art.” Jonathan felt his stomach knot as Harrington spoke.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan tried to deny as he walked away, but Hegan had already ripped his bag off of his shoulder.
Jonathan felt his hands tremble as his bag was handed over to Harrington. He knew after all of this he’d never hear the end of it. Now all he could do is sit back and watch his seemingly simple mistake about to destroy his life even more.
“Ah, here we go..” Harrington exclaimed, pulling the photos out of the bag. He sifted through them, Hegan and Perkins on his shoulders making their disgusted faces and snarky remarks. Harrington's face remained blank, slowly looking through the noticeably large amount of photos of himself. All Jonathan could really do was stare.
“I was looking for my brother-“ his voice came out shakily as Harrington cut him off. “No. No, this right here is called stalking.” Even now that egotistical twinge was thick in his voice.
Jonathan shrunk into himself, the tightness in his chest worsening as Harrington got to the end of the pile. Now in his hands, the only photo Harrington held was the one of him taking off his shirt.
(this is where it gets bad cus i have to write dialogue myself)
“No shot!” Hegan exclaimed after seeing the photo. “I told you he was a queer.” He mumbled in Harringtons ear, loud enough for the words to stab into Jonathan’s chest. At this point, all Jonathan could do was stay silent. He knew he couldn’t defend himself anymore. What could he have possibly said.
Harrington didn’t have any initial reaction to the photo, but he stared at it for just a second too long.
“See, you can tell he knows it’s wrong but-“
As Harrington approached, Jonathan’s breath hitched.
“-That’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them, yaknow, they just can’t help themselves”
When Harrington reached out his hand to tauntingly pat Jonathan on the shoulder, he flinched. He really thought he was in for it, but all he did was rip up the photos.
“So…we just have to take away his toy.”
Jonathan immediately felt a well in his throat. “No, please, not the camera-“ He pleaded, but before he knew it, Harrington had the camera in his hand. The one nice thing Jonathan’s ever got to own now being haphazardly held by Harrington made his stomach turn.
He reached out to take it back, but before he could even stretch his arm out all the way, the camera had already shattered on the pavement.
A look of regret covered Harrington's face for seemingly the first ever time, but Jonathan didn’t even notice. He barely even noticed Harrington and his friends leave. All he could focus on was the shards of glass and the torn up photos by his feet.
He kneeled down and picked up as much of it as he could, shoving the broken pieces in his bag as he tried not to break down right there in the parking lot.
The next few days at school were a blur. As Jonathan passed through the halls, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, prickling the back of his neck. Normally he was used to the strange looks and whispering, but in the past week it all felt heightened. Between his missing brother and being outed as a pervert, almost everybody had something to say about him as he walked by. But he just told himself it wasn’t important.
What was really important was finding his brother, and right now Jonathan felt completely useless. He had failed to protect his brother and now he’s failing to find him. Realistically, Jonathan knew his brother was probably dead in a ditch somewhere, but part of him still held a little bit of hope. Not just for himself but for his mom, and clearly she was taking this a lot worse than him. Talking to the lights, saying there’s something in the wall. The feeling of also failing her left a pit deep in his stomach. He was supposed to be responsible for Will and instead he was just a second thought. And knowing this was all his fault felt excruciating.
After school, Jonathan was in town, partially to avoid being at home. He walked around aimlessly, telling himself in his head he was here to do something important. To get groceries or ask about Will or something. Making any excuse to not feel like he was just wasting time.
While walking around he passed by the movie theatre, looking up at the sign that had been vandalized. On the sign read:
“NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER”
Jonathan felt that tightness in his chest again. Now unintentionally, in the past few days Jonathan had been talking to Nancy a lot more. Something about Barbra being missing and knowing about a monster. He never listened too carefully when she spoke about all that, he just let her go on as his own thoughts filled his head. But last night he made the mistake of being in her room. How could he.
Past the theater, he walked by an alleyway filled with the grossly familiar babble of voices. Lifting his head, he noticed Harrington and his goons. Awesome. Along with them however, he also noticed Nancy Wheeler, arguing with Harrington.
What he didn’t know was that Harrington also knew about him talking to his girlfriend. Whoops
“Speak of the devil.” Hegan's voice rang through his ears as Jonathan approached the group. Hegan was playing with the red spray paint can. Behind him, Jonathan noticed the words “JONATHAN BYERS IS A FAGGOT” written on the wall. Before he could even form a thought, he heard Harrington's voice loud in his ears, that cocky tone finally faded out.
He drowned out most of the argument, not really knowing what to say or do. He figured the best and only thing he could do was pull Nancy away, but he couldn’t even do that without Harrington nagging him.
“Yaknow what Byers I’m actually kinda impressed-“ Jonathan really tried his hardest to ignore the guy and take Nancy away, but being shoved didn’t make it all that easy.
“-I always took you for a queer but I guess you're just a little screw up like your father.” Jonathan felt his chest tighten even more, his breath hitching.
“Yeah yeah that house is full of screw ups. Yaknow I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised-“ Harrington went on and on, taunting Jonathan. Steve was just so infuriated, he wasn’t really thinking straight. He wanted to hit Jonathan where he knew it would really hurt.
“-Bunch of screw ups in that family. I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother, I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you but the Byers are a disgrace to the entire-“
Jonathan definitely wasn’t thinking clearly. He let Harrington get the reaction he so desperately wanted. And before he had time to leave like he was supposed to, Harrington had already tackled him. jeez guys
The next few minutes were nothing but a foggy memory. All Jonathan remembered was the sound of voices blaring at him to stop, the slight cracking every time his fist met Harrington's face, the blood covering his knuckles. He could’ve really injured Harrington if the police hadn’t shown up. But for all he cared, Harrington deserved it.
Now he sat in a rickety plastic chair at the police station, his cuffed hands still covered in blood. He only began to feel guilty when he saw his mom walk through the front doors of the station. Suddenly, Harrington's words had more weight to them. All he’s been doing for the past few weeks is making everything worse.
After witnessing Nancy crawl through the tree and the weird figure in the photo he took, he realized his mom probably wasn’t as crazy as he thought. So, later that night, Nancy convinced him to help her kill whatever creature was out there.
He now sat in his house with Nancy, preparing to fight whatever this monster thing was. On the coffee table, various weapons and traps were laid out, and now all they had to do was wait.
While sitting around, they were startled by the sound of pounding on the front door.
“Jonathan!? Are you there, man? It’s- It’s Steve! Listen, man, I just wanna talk.!” Harrington's voice blared through the door.
Jonathan only calmed down slightly hearing the voice, but the last person he wanted to see right now was the guy he just jumped.
Reluctantly, he got up and answered the door, only cracking it slightly.
“You need to leave.” Jonathan spoke bluntly, glaring up at the man.
“No I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Harrington's face was still bloodied from earlier, his pleading expression only making Jonathan feel slightly bad for him.
“I don’t care about any of that. You need to go.” Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, hoping this guy would just get the hint and go. What the hell was he even doing here anyways.
“No no no listen, I-I…I messed up, okay? I messed- I messed up..okay? Really.” Harrington stammered, like the words kept getting caught in his throat. Jonathan’s expression only softened slightly seeing Harrington's seemingly genuine apology, but he really couldn’t have come at a worse time.
“Please. I just wanna make things right.” Steve pleaded once again, his remorseful facial expression making Jonathan’s stomach turn. He’s never seen him so worked up.
But Steve genuinely wanted to apologize. Shortly after their fight, he had realized he really took things too far this time. His head wasn't clear at all and he was just upset at Nancy. But more than anything, he was upset at himself. This probably wouldn’t have even happened if he was just a half decent boyfriend. And whatever he said about Jonathan’s brother was nothing more than that ugly jealousy poking through. Steve’s really not the type to talk bad about anything like that, but in the moment he was so heated his only goal was to cut through Jonathan as deep as he could.
“Listen to me, man, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you-” Jonathan persisted, but before he knew it, the man was already barging in past him. Before Steve could get another word out, he was stunned by the sight of Nancy and all the clutter on the table. His mouth was agape looking at the lights and the writing on the walls and the traps sprawled everywhere.
“What the hell is going on here?” He asked as he turned around back to Jonathan. To him this probably looked deranged.
“You need to leave.” Nancy’s command cut through the air, sharp and stern. Before they could get Harrington out of the house, the lights flickered.
Before Harrington even had time to leave, the demogorgon fell out of the ceiling, immediately almost pouncing onto Steve before Jonathan pulled him away. Their shoulders clanked together as Steve’s breath quickened, the heat of it falling onto Jonathan’s ear.
Everything after that seemed to blend together, too quick for any of them to process as it happened. But by some miracle, the monster was trapped and caught on fire. In the middle there somewhere, when Steve was supposed to have left, he beat the monster off of Jonathan, but who was really paying attention.
Just a couple days later, Jonathan sat in Will's hospital room. He tightly held the kid's hand in his own, as if he’d somehow run off again if he’d let go. He had been there for a few hours now, his sunken in eyes widening anytime Will made the smallest twitch.
Somehow, Steve also ended up at the hospital. He walked through the long cold hallways, holding a small wrapped box in his hands. As he walked he mumbled to himself, reciting what he was gonna say. For one of the first times in a while, Steve felt nervous to talk to somebody, and that was blaringly obvious as his trembling hands opened the door to Will's room.
Jonathan jerked his head up, expecting his mom or a nurse. Harrington was the last person he’d ever think would visit. His eyebrows immediately furrowed, shifting his gaze back down to his brother.
“What.” He mumbled, coming out quieter than he intended.
Steve’s slight grin immediately dropped. He knew Jonathan wouldn’t be ecstatic to see him, but he wasn’t expecting him to be so harsh.
“I just wanted to uh make sure your brother was okay.” Steve spoke quieter than usual, that cocky twinge completely gone. Instead his tone was soft and genuine. That’s new for him.
“He’s fine.” Jonathan continued to speak bluntly, refusing to look up at the man. Out of everyone in town, he had no idea why Steve would be the one to check on Will.
“I also just uhm- I wanted to..give you this.” Steve shakily held out the box, hurriedly shoving it into Jonathan’s hand when he reached out. “And I also never really got to give you a real apology.”
Jonathan finally looked up at the man, his face covered in confusion. Steve on the other hand had that same pleading expression on his face from the other night, and Jonathan still didn’t know what to think of it.
“I’m- I’m really sorry for..what I said- about you and your family. I messed up..pretty bad. And I’m- I’m really sorry.” Steve only mumbled slightly, avoiding eye contact as he dug his hands deep into his pockets.
Jonathan’s expression turned blank. This is the one and only time he’s seen Steve genuinely apologize for anything. Or at least he was good at making it look genuine. It could’ve very easily been Nancy forcing him to finish his apology. Either way, Harrington thinking of apologizing to anybody was a miracle, let alone the freak he’s bullied for years.
“Thanks.” Jonathan was far too tired to form a response longer than that. He genuinely didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He was still just stunned that Steve’s minuscule brian was able to form this thought seemingly on its own.
“Am I forgiven..?” Steve attempted to make a joke, but it came out all wrong. He understood if Jonathan never forgave him for anything. He was expecting Jonathan to shove him off. But at the very least, he wanted his apology to mean something.
“I don’t know.” Jonathan replied quietly, that bluntness in his tone almost completely gone. He really didn’t know if Steve should be forgiven after everything. But also, after everything, why wouldn’t he forgive him. It was something Jonathan didn’t have the time to think about before this. As of right now, he still didn’t think Steve really deserved to be forgiven. But he wasn’t sure.
With that, Steve left with a small goodbye, shuffling through the hallways as if he’d just been broken up with.
Jonathan glanced down at the box in his hand. He didn’t really want a gift from Harrington. But at least it seemed like he was making an effort.
Hesitantly, Jonathan ripped the paper off the box, carefully tearing it off so it wouldn’t make a mess. Behind the paper was a brand new, high end, fancy, expensive camera.