You Gotta Let It Out Soon
slight tw: verbal abuse and attempted assault. Overall, it's just Steve's dad being a terrible father.
Please be kind to yourself if you choose to read this.
Title from "Daddy Issues" by the Neighborhood (Seemed fitting)
Steve was late.
Dustin is going to give him so much shit.
He didn’t mean to take a nap, honest.
He had to lay down because he felt a headache coming on, and he really didn’t want to deal with it.
Were his eyes closed? Yes.
Did he feel himself nodding off? Well… yeah.
But that’s not the point! He didn’t mean to.
He rushes down the stairs, his keys in his mouth as he awkwardly hops on one foot getting on one shoe before doing the same with the other one. It wasn’t until he looked up that he found he was being watched.
He stands up straight, taking his keys and shoving them in his pocket, keeping a tight grip on them.
“Dad…”
“Steven.”
“W-what are — When did-”
“For God’s sake Steven, stop being an idiot and finish your sentence.” His dad was already done with him.
“What are you doing here?” That’s a safe question.
“It’s my house, Steven. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Steve shrugs, “You haven’t been here for months. Haven’t seen you since February, it's November now. ”
His dad scoffs, rolling his eyes, “I’m a very-”
“Very busy man, yeah.” Steve finishes that same lame excuse his dad gives him every time, “You mentioned that once or twice.”
“Don’t talk back to me Steven.” His voice went stern, “You have the nerve to act out when the house isn’t even cleaned and the fridge is empty. How are you living Steve, like a goddamn barn animal?”
His dad may have a point, the house could use some cleaning, and he definitely needed to go to the store, but honestly, he wasn’t expecting him to be home.
“My bad, I’ve been busy.”
“Do not make excuses Steven-”
“I’m not making excuses!” He talks over his dad, “I work 10-hour shifts and when I’m not working, I’m helping some of the kids I look after.”
“Like a babysitter?” The tone of his dad’s voice is condescending.
“Yeah, like a babysitter, sure.”
“You’re a grown man, Steven. You can’t even take care of yourself.”
“Well, I did though, didn’t I?” Steve crosses his arms, shrugging, “You and Mom weren’t around. Took good care of myself then.”
“Your Mother and I were around enough.”
Steve can’t help but laugh, “Seriously? You’re serious right now?”
“Stop laughing Steven! We are your parents. We raised you to be better.”
Now that caught his attention. “You raised me? Seriously?”
“Of course we did. We gave you a roof over your head and kept you fed-” His dad kept listing things, but Steve just heard white noise.
“You didn’t raise me.” Steve mutters, keeping his eyes down. His father stopped, clearly hearing him.
���Say that again?” He was clearly taunting Steve, and Steve fell for it.
“You didn’t raise me.”
“Steven Richard Harrington, do not talk to your father like that.” Steve cringes at his full name. Especially his middle name. A reminder he’ll always be connected to his father, even without his last name.
“I did though you left when-”
“I did not ‘leave’ Steven. I had work to do, and it was important.”
“More important than your son?”
“You were old enough to take care of yourself.”
“I was NINE!” He screams, a tear falling down his cheek as he points his finger at his father, “You left me to fend for myself when I was nine!”
“Oh boo-hoo, grow up Steven-”
“I have!” He screams again, finally letting out all his pent-up anger, “And you would have noticed if you were around. But you weren’t.”
He gets into his father’s face, “While you were off screwing every woman you laid eyes on and mom was drowning her sorrows at the hotel bar about her pathetic excuse of a husband, I was here. Growing up. I taught myself how to use the stove and how to buy groceries. I taught myself how to fix things around the house. I even taught myself how to drive. You did none of that.”
“I have paid for this life you are living. This house! That car! Those tutors, even though they were useless.” His dad runs a frustrated hand through his hair. It physically makes Steve ill. “God, I raised an insolent, unappreciative son.”
“You didn’t fucking raise me!” He yells, his throat already getting raw from the explosion of emotions.
His father stopped, staring daggers at Steve.
He senses it before it happens. He sees the anger on his father’s face and just knows. As his father’s hand flies up to slap him, he catches it. His nails digging into his father’s wrist, his knuckles turning white. The shock on his father’s face makes him smile.
He leans in close, taunting him, “You can’t fucking hurt me, I have fought worse things than you, and I have always won.”
Steve knows he has to look crazy, he can see it in his dad’s eyes. He’s scared of Steve. Good.
He shoves his father’s arm down to his side and walks by, heading up the stairs. He’s done and he means it. He grabs his duffle bag and shoves a bunch of his clothes and toiletries into it. He grabs his unused backpack and takes down all the pictures everyone hung up, carefully putting them in his bag. He grabs some other miscellaneous items that mean the world to him: like the rock Eddie gave him because it was pretty, the walkie Dustin gave him so he would always know everyone was safe, the little notes Robin would write on post-it notes and slap onto his wall. He took all of it.
With his backpack on and his duffle thrown over his shoulder he grabs his keys from his pocket and goes back downstairs. He sees that his father moved to the living room, so he tries to sneak out quietly.
Of course the Gods didn’t think he deserved a break.
“Where do you think you are going, Steven.”
Steve’s shoulders drop, and he turns to his dad.
“I’m leaving.”
“If you leave this house, I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” He challenges. “No, seriously. What will you do?”
His dad looks him straight in the eyes, “I’ll sell this house, and you’ll be on the street. Your mother and I will never come back to Hawkins.”
“Good fucking riddance.”
Steve opens the door and walks out, he knows his dad is yelling at him. Probably calling him all sorts of names, but he was done.
He throws his bags into the passenger seat, gets in his Beemer and drives off. His shoulders relax as he watches the Harrington house get small in his rearview mirror.
---
Steve didn’t have a plan when he left. Just knew he had to leave.
He continued to drive aimlessly around Hawkins before pulling into a familiar trailer park. He parks next to the van and gets out, jumping the stairs and knocking, rather impatiently, at the door.
He hears Eddie mumbling to himself, most likely annoyed he had to get out of bed, before the door swings open.
“Stevie!” Eddie’s once annoyed face instantly lit up, but slowly it fell, “What happened?”
“Huh?” Steve can feel the lump in his throat, and he feels the tears on his cheeks. Shit, how long had he been crying. “Shit.” He furiously wipes away his tears.
Eddie ushers him inside and moves him to the couch. He envelops Steve in his arms, letting him rest his head on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beating of his heart.
“Sweetheart, what happened?” Eddie coos.
Steve cries again as he explains what went down with his dad. Eddie comforts him the whole time, letting Steve take his time. When he was done, Eddie was furious.
“He kicked you out!” He softly yells.
“Technically no, I left.”
“But he just allowed you! And he almost hit you!”
“But he didn’t. I just was… overreacting or something.” He shrugs it off, but he knows Eddie won’t.
“Stevie, look at me.” Steve does what he is told and was a little shocked as Eddie gently took his face in his hands. “No parent should ever, ever hit you or even attempt to hit you.”
Steve slowly nods, “Yeah, but-”
“No buts. Steve, you can’t keep sticking up for your dad. He’s an asshole. You know it. I know it. Most of fucking Hawkins knows it. Why do you still protect him?”
“He’s my dad, Eds.” He says like that's an explanation. And it is, in some ways, but not the way Eddie is looking for. “We had good times, before the bad. Before he left. And I know he’s capable of that good. He has to be.” He feels himself choking up again, “He was a good dad.”
Eddie pulls him into his chest, letting Steve cry it out.
Steve sometimes forgets that there was good within his dad. That he actually had good memories with him. But that was before the Harrington business picked up.
His dad would take him to play catch in the yard. And shoot hoops with him. As a family they would go on drives and on picnics. They’d watch movies and listen to music and dance around. When Steve had a nightmare his dad would come in and read him stories as he fell asleep. They would get up early and make breakfast for his mom in bed on Mother’s Day, softly laughing as they brought up waffles and coffee for her. There was a time his dad would go to his little league games and cheer him on as loud as possible.
But then his business picked up, and it was like all those good times disappeared.
“Stevie, I’m sorry. I know he’s your dad-”
“You’re right though,” He croaks, “He’s a terrible father now. He’s a completely different man now than he was then. It’s- it’s just… hard to let go.”
Eddie nods, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I know, baby. I know.”
They stay on the couch, Eddie comforting him until Wayne gets home. Eddie briefly explains what happened with Steve’s dad.
“You stay here as long as you need to, boy. You got that? This is your home now. And you're safe here.”
Steve nods, another round of tears falling down his face as Wayne hugs him tightly.
Steve slowly puts his stuff around the trailer, not too much though. Just hangs his clothes with Eddie’s and puts his toothbrush in the holder.
He finally feels like he’s in a home.
And when he and Eddie drive past the Harrington house and see a “For Sale” sign in front, it feels like weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
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