#steve harringtn x original female character

[werdlewrites]

masterlist - ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

summary: For someone so young, the vacancy speaks - if not screams for concern. A soul to live through more than one lifetime. Experienced and damaged from it. Never knowing peace with darkened skin just beneath her eyes from a lack of rest. “What is this?” She asks no one in particular, more so, the universe. It’s a call for help. A demand from the Heavens above to provide clarity, or a plea from the depths of Hell to wipe this image clean from her mind. warnings: parental abandonment, hallucination wc: 2,949

Snow has begun to fall all across Indiana. The winter air bites at your skin like a thousand needles, leaving cheeks blotchy as heavily covered arms wrap tighter around your torso. Her fingers ache without gloves and every step feels like she’s run a mile. The boots are borrowed and too big. Too clunky but perfect in dire times when she’s forgotten her old pair back home. She’s unable to distinguish if her socks are dampened from such a loose fit, or if her flesh has just gone cold from exposure. Either way, she moves with purpose and determination. Forcing each step forward no matter how badly she wants to retreat. The gravel is frozen, unmoving as the shoes scuff along the path. His car was left chilled and untouched, refusing to seek out the joys a weekend had to offer. Instead, finding solace in the quiet shelter of his home.

No lights beam out through parted curtains, instead using the glow of nature to fill the spaces with life. Autumn stands on his porch, kicking at the wooden boards to dust away the heavy snow that’s gathered at her feet, and that’s all she manages to do for a moment. Chewing at her cheek with an unsteady posture, continuously looking elsewhere. Prey looking for an escape as if the door had shown teeth, ready to kill.

Autumn has whispered unspoken conversations to herself during the drive. How she would tell him and then predict his response. Every scenario is prepared for, but that doesn't ease her nerves as she knocks at the Byers front door. Maybe he would still be sound asleep. Grasping at the shredded strings of peace so that he can finally find some rest. Maybe, just maybe, she was lucky enough to be left out in the cold with no other option than to turn her back on the silent home. But footsteps crush that dream as they inch closer, and she has to remind herself that this is what she wants. What they both want. No more lies. No more secrets.

Jonathan is suddenly squinting from the bright assault against his eyes like he hadn’t seen sunlight for days, or planned to for that matter. His hair was disheveled and his clothes a mess, just barely out of his pajamas into something casual. The disturbance leaves him disgruntled for a moment before he drinks in the sight of her and relaxes. “Oh, hey,” he says with a heavy yawn.

“Did I wake you?” Autumn teased with a small smirk on her face.

“Hm? No, no. I, uh, I’m supposed t’be up. I’ve got work soon and I accidentally slept in.” Jonathan laughs despite the joy in her eyes flickering out.

The girl’s shoulders sag and the smile falters, now understanding his chaotic state as he frantically dresses for a shift. “Oh.”

Maybe, just maybe she would be unlucky enough to have worked herself up to this very moment, only to be left disappointed. But she feigns a smile, laughing away the grip on her heart. “Duh. Have t’get back t’real life, and shit.”

An uneasy grin shines from the boy for only a moment, before settling as he wears a look of concern. “Is everything okay?”

Confusion washes in, still forcing a lie to the front. “Yeah, of course. I-I just thought we could hang out. I forgot people have jobs,” she jokes. A hard swallow slithers its way down to burn up her insides.

“Well, what about later? I could call-”

“Don’t!” Autumn interrupts all too quickly, her friend's eyes full of surprise. “I-I mean, our phone - it’s broken.” She rolls her eyes, hoping to further convince him of this false reality. “I’ll be busy, anyway, later. I’m going…out of town.”

Fuck.

“With my dad,” she continues, no matter the sudden pressure of now coming up with another lie. “I just thought we could do something before I go. But, I’ll see you at school! We can make plans, yeah?”

Jonathan seems less certain. His grip tightens on the door, rocking on his heels anxiously as he looks her up and down. He doesn’t buy it, and she can tell. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her fingers clench inside deep pockets, fidgeting and pulling at the lint. Autumn would scream if she could. She would fall at his feet and let the world know of all that’s happened in such a short time. All she had lost and all she had gained. Her cries would echo the agony, and she would succumb to exhaustion in his hold. A final relief from the weight she carries. But her back straightens in preparation for another load, feet firmly planted as hasty words spill forward. “I’m fine, honestly.” She’s already falling away from her friend. One step after another carrying her backward down the short steps and onto the gravel. “Enjoy being berated by customers!” She calls out, just before turning on her heel to hastily make her way back toward the Jeep.

She knows he’s watching. She can feel his tired eyes dig into her back like claws to rip out the truth. But he finally surrenders to the cold winds and the tick of the clock, and then there’s the sound of the front door finally closing.

It’s all a blur after that. The exit from his home is a forced calm. She even wears a small smile in case the boy happens to look out the window to watch her leave. But as the girl fades from sight, a held-in-breath passes and her body slumps against the seat. Her fingers white-knuckled over the steering wheel, driving aimlessly until the nerves finally get to her. She’s parked on the side of the street, keys abandoned on the dash as she focuses on steadying breaths. There’s no blame in Jonathan for trying to slip back into his old life, and who was she to drag him back out into the chaos? She would tell him someday, sure. He was bound to hear the news through gossip as Hopper escorted her to the front desk of the school's office, going over legal documentation. Bound to stumble upon her front step and find that no one was home.

She’d tell him first. Someday soon.

It just wouldn’t be today.

Gathered slush is pushed aside as a car peacefully roams through the neighborhood. The sudden movement is enough to pull her from a daze, watching as it moves down the winding street toward a home in the distance. Autumn finds herself in a familiar setting, yet not at all comforting as acid degrades her from the inside out. She’s parked a few feet down from her old sanctuary, without his car in sight. There’s a silent debate about whether to turn her back on it. Like he did to her. But there’s an undeniable pull, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she gives in to it. Letting those unseen hands pull her along the sidewalk and up the empty driveway. She’s only released the moment she finds something…off. The front door now has a different shade of white, something no one would notice unless you saw it every day for the last 16 years. The print of Hopper’s boot is gone, along with the splintered wood.

Someone else had been here.

She reacts without thought. Fingers tight around the handle in an attempt to pry it open, though it doesn’t budge. Frantically, she digs through the contents of her bag, searching for the key only to find it no longer fits the lock. Panic sets in, eyes blown wide as she catapults across the yard to prove herself wrong. The curtains are pulled shut in the long stretch of living room windows, keeping secrecy buried within the shadows. She pushes on. Nearly tripping over heavy footsteps as her attention is stolen away by newly replaced windows. No shattered glass or cracked lines. Like nothing had ever happened. The sliding door in the back is sealed shut, too. Once finicky and easy to pry open if you angled it a certain way, but now locked in place.

Trembling hands cup against the glass to shield her from the shocking glare, giving her access to an empty home. The long stretch of the hallway had been stripped of framed photographs. No table to collect the junk mail or keys. The dining room still holds the table she once sat at, but it’s newly polished to hide away any scuff marks gained through time. It’s almost as if she never existed, and that thought leaves her knees weakened.

She can see the railing of a staircase, feeling a phantom pain just at her fingertips as nails once clawed their way down the wood. The place where he followed; that man. The stranger that crept through the halls undetected until she found him. Had he expected her, somehow? Standing among her father's dedicated work, waiting for the girl to stumble upon him. Would things have gone worse if Steve was the one to wake first? Did he know she wasn’t alone and simply did not care? Willing to risk it, no matter the price.

A heavy breath fogs the chilled glass. A ghost to dance along its surface and distort her vision. A near blessing to hide the new emptiness of her old home. But as it fades, something else eases into her view. A recognizable smile paired with sweet blue eyes to hide his malice. He stands in the reflection. Tall and threatening just at her back, waiting with great patience.

She turns with haste, nearly slipping and seeking support against the door as she takes him in and this place of nightmares he stands at the center of. Her world has shifted. The glow of sunlight against fallen snow is now replaced by fluorescent fixtures in the ceiling. Her home has morphed into a long stretch of tiled walls, encapsulating the once soft ground she stood upon. It’s all familiar and for all of the wrong reasons. It holds a feeling of dread as her heart threatens to give out and succumb to the end. Thin lips are moving but there’s no voice heard. No words of promise laced with something sickening and evil. A single hand pries itself free from the confines of a coat pocket, reaching out to her as he takes a small step forward. Autumn is gone before he can take hold. Finding enough strength in trembling knees to carry herself around him in a full sprint. She won’t dare to look back. The only focus was to put as much distance between them as she could. The hallway seems never-ending.

Doors are mirrored across from one another, bolted shut and unmoving as she forces her weight against them. The girl rounds a corner with haste, dampened boots gliding across the polished flooring and ultimately forcing her body to collapse. She feels the pressure of the cold surface against her, but no throb of pain. She looks then, finding the man in a casual stride, yet closing the distance with ease. Autumn scrambles to stand, pushing herself further down the hall and toward the double doors. She’s uncertain if they’ll give way or remain solid like the others, but she still charges forward, eyes tightly shut as she throws herself against them.

Quickened steps react in panic. They skid and separate to balance out the weight shift, her focus now locked on the eerie space. The rainbow screams loud against perfectly painted walls, bleeding out into the flooring. But it’s not the room that holds her attention, or the chess board with scattered pieces, the players having just left. It’s not the roll of crayons as they fall from the nearby tables, or the fear of fire flickering just beneath the furthest door.

A figure waits for her in the mirror; short and dressed in gray-toned sweats. From afar, Autumn could swear it was the same girl that once invaded her mind, somehow finding her again to seek help. The teen chances a glance just over her shoulder, finding the space empty and free of threat. No footsteps to echo down the hall or soul-piercing eyes to strip away her life. With that minimal comfort, she advances. And the child does the same. The same foot with the same pace, and it leaves her frozen on the spot. It’s a trick of the mind - it’s all a part of the illusion she’s trapped within. But every motion is mimicked. Step after step, they grow closer to the mirror's surface. At first, she believes it to be that unnamed child. Then, a boy. The hair buzzed down to soft fuzz with no real defining facial features. It isn’t until Autumn takes in the color of their eyes as they stare up at her, expression unreadable, that things become more alarming. She recognizes the girl. The marks along her skin and the hue in empty eyes. Younger than she remembers. Never seen in photographs but easy to picture as her face morphs through time.

She stares back at an unknown version of herself, only more hollow.

For someone so young, the vacancy speaks - if not screams for concern. A soul to live through more than one lifetime. Experienced and damaged from it. Never knowing peace with darkened skin just beneath her eyes from a lack of rest. “What is this?” She asks no one in particular, more so, the universe. It’s a call for help. A demand from the Heavens above to provide clarity, or a plea from the depths of Hell to wipe this image clean from her mind. Their lips move in sync, though such a frail voice remains unheard from behind the shining barricade. But there is a voice. Not of a child, or of her. Not of the man lingering down the hall. Autumn’s name echoes through the room, pulling the child's attention away to instead look toward the double doors at her back. They swing and he emerges from the shadows, standing proud in the glimmering light with eyes locked on the child. Now feeling his presence creep in like a predator, Autumn turns to meet him with blood frozen in her veins. She can feel the small hairs rise beneath her layered tops, her chest aching and releasing a hazy cloud as a hard exhale turns to mist.

It’s a stark contrast to the eerie hallways she raced through. Her eyes were forced to squint from the pain of brilliant light, shocking her back into reality. She stands on the same snow-covered concrete slab, hands and back pressed firmly to the new glass door, slowly slipping as her knees shake from tension. The rushing currents of blood fill her ears with a sharp ring, gaze unfocused as she struggles to settle. It’s hard to know if anything was real. If she only surrenders to familiar surroundings, letting her guard down to be thrown back into darkness.

She waits.

A muffled noise somehow breaks through the deafening barrier, only becoming more clear with every call. Autumn follows the noise with hesitance, finding a neighbor leaning further into her view to gain some attention. The elderly woman raises a hand in greeting, wearing a timid smile. The sight of her brings a sudden awareness - a jolt to the body as she pushes herself away from the surface. Lips tremble as they try to mimic the other woman. “M-morning, Mrs. Collins.”

At the sound of her name, her shoulders fall to rest and there’s less concern in her eyes. Now more gentle, yet curious. “You’ll catch a cold out here,” she states. Her arms crossed tight over her chest, bundling up her husband's jacket as she inches closer with care. “D’you leave something behind?”

The question lingers in the air. Heard, but not fully registered and her mouth hangs agape in search for a stupefying response. But the woman fills the space between them with ease, a small chuckle heard as she moves through every memory made. “I used t’leave things behind after every move. The rush of it all leaves your mind so frazzled, you barely know what’s happening.”

She’s lost within her own world, while Autumn stands without guidance in a vacant field. The horizon stretches on forever, never giving closure or providing answers. She’s simply lost, though Mrs. Collins does all she can to pave a rocky path. “I didn’t think I would get the chance to say ‘Goodbye.’ Your father was in such a hurry. He barely spoke a word t’me. I even tried t’offer up my grandson t’help load up the trucks. Awfully stubborn, your father.” She waits a moment, eyes fixated on the empty dining room that once echoed with laughter. The glow from within breaking through closed curtains, allowing silhouettes to dance along the ground. “I had no idea you were even moving. It’s so exciting, isn’t it? Making new memories.”

Winter has stolen life from more than vivid nature. It snuck inside - silent and without warning as it filled the girl's chest. The unseen reaper, casting out pieces of her collected soul with every breath. Left as a shell. Without thought and unfeeling, picturing her father loading up their entire life so that he could vanish into the night. Autumn could hardly find the strength to hate him. To loathe or pity him and this unknown story he writes out for himself. There’s only a wilted smile, uttering a soft, “Goodbye, Mrs. Collins,” before closing this chapter in her own story, leaving it behind for good, so that she can begin another.

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