^harringtcn.

^@byersbcy

^{He’s pretty sure Jonathan meant to call Nancy, must’ve got their numbers jumbled up, and that Steve wasn’t ever supposed to hear Jonathan’s voice tremble and crack that way— but he DID, and so he spoke softly into the receiver, all feathery hey’s and you’re alright’s and I’ll be right over. It came effortlessly after all those Saturday nights Jonathan spent with Steve and Nancy, at the bowling alley and the tape store and the movie theater where his forearm pressed up against Steve’s on the armrest.}

^{And that’s how Steve ends up back at the Byers’ house for the first time since… Everything. It seems BIGGER now, or maybe Steve just feels smaller— and his nerves hollow out his stomach and make his mouth go dry as he lets himself in, as his grip goes white around the handle of his bat. He checks Jonathan’s room first, finds twisted sheets and an empty bed, and drags his feet to the yellow light slanting through the cracks of the bathroom door. He considers knocking, but in an effort to be quiet simply flattens his hand over the door and keeps his voice low.}

   ^{❝ Hey, Jonathan? It’s me. ❞}

^{he had planned on calling Nancy. his cold, shaking fingers hovered over her numbers for a full hour, before he tossed the phone back on his bed, only to suffer alone for another hour. he didn’t want to bother anyone, didn’t want to become some kind of problem for the only people he could even consider friends.} 

^{his voice shook with unshed tears as he whispered quiet encouragements to himself. he could do this, he could be strong. but he knew, deep down, that with one look at himself in a mirror he’d be able to see that he could clearly do neither of those things.}

^{when he had enough of his own pacing, he snatched the phone back off the bed and, without thinking, dialed Steve’s number. he explained his situation with emotions he could no longer contain and before he knew it, Steve had hung up, insisting he’d be right over. it was all so surreal to him, made him instantly believe Steve was lying.}

^{why would Steve come help him? Steve was… Steve, and a guy that amazing didn’t help guys like Jonathan.}

^{he’d locked himself in his bathroom after that, curled into himself on the floor and hands curled into tight fists in an attempt to stop the shaking. his tears dried up long ago, now replaced with a throbbing headache and hollow, tired eyes. he was surprised his inner turmoil hadn’t woken anyone else up but was ultimately glad. he couldn’t explain this to his mom or Will. they wouldn’t understand, they weren’t there.}

^{he was yanked from his thoughts by a soft voice just outside the bathroom door and he immediately knew it was Steve. with a now racing heart, he snapped his eyes open from his not-slumber and stared at the door just in front of him. Steve had actually come.}

^{without standing, Jonathan simply maneuvered himself onto his knees and reached up to turn the cold, metal lock to allow Steve entry. then he sat back down on his butt, scooting back until his back hit the plastic bathtub.}

                            ^{❝ — come in. ❞}

^{his voice was rough but soft as it rang out. it felt so odd to hear his own voice after so long.}