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#who robins parents are
trashmakerarticle · 5 months
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Batman & Superman: *smile at eachother*
Robin(dick): THOSE ARE MY DADS, THEY ARE INLOVE
Batman & catwoman: *have their weird flirting thing*
Robin(Jason): ew, that’s mum and dad, they’re in love or whatever
Batman: *crying in the shower while in bat gear*
Robin(Tim): that’s my dad, he’s a wet racoon and is lonely, plz love him
Batman and talia: *have their weird flirting thing*
Robin(Damian): hm *very much judging both their taste in people*
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artkaninchenbau · 3 months
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Crocodile finds a strange stray cat an 11-year old Nico Robin (AU where they met 13 years earlier. Robin's been on the run from the World Government for 3 years. Crocodile's 27 and has not set up base in Alabasta yet)
It seems like I have become possessed. By some sort of demon.
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Bonus:
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audhd-nightwing · 3 months
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jason, coming back from the dead and seeing tim as robin: how could bruce replace me? how could he give robin to someone else?
dick, who created robin in honor of his dead parents and then had bruce take it away and give it to jason without even asking him:
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aalghul · 18 days
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once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that’s puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.
and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots
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celaenaeiln · 9 months
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JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.
Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.
JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?
Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.
JL: Did something happen?
Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.
JL: ???
48 hours earlier
Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.
Bruce: …hmrgh
Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.
Bruce: ……hmrgh
Dick: Damian always looks up to you
Bruce: *side eyes*
Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.
Bruce: ….hmrgh
Dick: And-
1 hour later
Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.
Bruce:
Dick:
Bruce: ……...hmrgh
Dick: I’m waiting.
Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*
Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.
Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-
*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*
Bruce:
Bruce:
Bruce:
Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months
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Whole thing on A03
It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 
Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 
They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 
They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 
Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 
"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 
As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 
Likely for business purposes.
"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 
It was easier than getting into it.
(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 
How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 
That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 
And boy, had he been acting out of line. 
 Getting into fights. 
Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 
Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 
So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 
His own plans be damned. 
"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.
 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 
The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 
Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.
Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 
"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 
“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 
Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  
Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 
Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.
He was wrong. 
xXx 
Mike hadn’t cared. 
El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 
Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 
Max was the surprising emotional standout. 
"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 
Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 
Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 
“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 
Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.
(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 
Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 
Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 
“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 
This was clearly not the correct thing to say.
Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 
“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 
“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 
“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  
“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 
Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 
xXx 
“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 
Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 
“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 
Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”
An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 
“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 
Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 
“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 
“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 
Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 
“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 
“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 
A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 
Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 
“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 
“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 
Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.
Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 
“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 
Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 
He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 
It was just---Nancy did know. 
Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 
How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 
That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 
Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 
(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 
“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 
Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 
“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”
“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 
“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 
So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 
“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 
“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 
She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 
Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”
She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 
As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 
Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 
“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 
He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 
A third time for good measure. 
“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 
Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 
Not anymore. 
But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 
Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 
A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 
Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 
 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 
“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 
It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 
“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 
“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 
“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 
“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 
He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 
“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 
Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 
“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  
“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”
Robin didn’t believe him.
His Robin. 
Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--
There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 
“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 
“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 
Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 
“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 
Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 
Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 
The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 
Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?
Against his parents? 
Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 
Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 
He didn’t know where he was going.
He figured he’d find out when he got there. 
xXx 
Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.
But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 
Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 
Party.
This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 
With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 
Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 
Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 
It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 
So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 
(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 
He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.
Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 
Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 
He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 
“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 
“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 
“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.
“Oh god.”
Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 
Then; “It gets worse.” 
Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”
Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 
A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.
She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 
Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 
“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 
Steve stayed silent. 
Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 
“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 
Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 
“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 
“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 
“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 
Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 
For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 
“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 
“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.
Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 
“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  
A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 
“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 
“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 
“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”
“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 
“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 
He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 
The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 
He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 
In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 
 They’d warned him. 
Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 
That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 
“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 
They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.
“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 
For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 
Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 
Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 
Provided he did what his parents wanted.
Such as marrying Angie. 
Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 
 Steve would bow to their whims. 
 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 
Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 
Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 
It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 
Steve would try anyway. 
His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 
“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 
“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 
“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 
It was a downright horrible idea.
But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 
Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 
He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  
They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 
Steve needed that.
People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 
“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”
Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 
No matter how long the engagement. 
Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 
He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 
Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 
Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 
He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 
“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.
This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 
Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.
Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 
Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 
“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 
Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 
“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 
He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 
Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 
“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?
Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 
“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.
This did not detour the metalhead. 
“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 
Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”
Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 
For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 
Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 
Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.
It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 
“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 
Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 
“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 
At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.
Maybe.
It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 
Speaking of; 
 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.
“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.
“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 
“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 
The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 
Part Two
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minnesota-fats · 11 months
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A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.
This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.
Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.
And that's another bonus to this job; Space!
He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.
It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!
A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.
He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.
After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.
Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.
“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”
Danny lifted a brow, ���you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.
The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.
“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.
The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.
Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.
The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.
Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.
“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.
Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.
“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.
Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.
“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.
“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”
Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.
Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”
“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.
“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.
Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”
Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”
Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.
“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”
“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”
Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.
“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”
Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”
Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”
“Birdy?” Robin asked.
“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname
“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.
“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”
The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.
Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.
“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.
“Sorry sir, I was—”
“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”
Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.
Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.
Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.
Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.
Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.
Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.
Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.
Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.
Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.
Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.
Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”
“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.
“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.
I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!
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grandwretch · 3 months
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i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out
steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.
eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.
cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.
he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.
like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.
and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.
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stevebabey · 3 months
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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3
“Steven, this is ridiculous.”
Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.
It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.
She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.
But Steve? Steve is not.
It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.
It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.
Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.
So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.
Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.
He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.
Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.
She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.
She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.
She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.
She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.
Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.
She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.
He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.
The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.
“Mom—”
“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.
“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”
She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.
“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.
“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”
“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.
The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.
Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.
She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.
“Why are you here, Mom?”
There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.
“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”
Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.
She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.
Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.
“And to leave the house in such a state?”
Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.
There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.
“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.
“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.
It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.
Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.
Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.
“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”
Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.
“I’m not coming with you.”
The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”
He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.
It makes him stand a little straighter.
“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”
Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.
“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”
“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.
“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”
It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.
“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”
In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.
She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.
He’s shaking, she realises.
Her heart twists painfully in her chest.
Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”
Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.
Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.
“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”
“Steven—”
“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."
A beat.
"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”
Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.
She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.
“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”
There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.
“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”
“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.
“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”
His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.
“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”
And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.
Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.
Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.
The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.
If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.
Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.
He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.
“Steve…” She breathes softly.
He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.
Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.
She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.
She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.
If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.
“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.
Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.
“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.
Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.
She thinks of what Steve had said.
“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.
“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”
Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.
“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”
It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.
“I’ve never told anyone that before.”
Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.
“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.
Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.
Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.
“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”
“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.
Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.
She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.
“You alright?”
Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.
Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.
“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”
Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”
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sisaloofafump · 1 year
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(Click for better resolution)
Remember how Nightwing was first invented as Clark’s Kryptonian “Batman” disguise (with Jimmy Olsen as the Robin-esque Flamebird)? Imagine if they got to interact like that. Just imagine.
Original comic panels from Superman #158 below (and the drawing variants).
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And various background variants bc I am indecisive
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thejasontoddarchives · 7 months
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Batman (1940-) #426
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Batman (1940-) #427
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Task Force Z #6 (2022)
You tell him, Jason.
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lazylittledragon · 1 month
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I've been loving ur mombin comics, but where is the other mom? what trans hottie is not paying her child support out here? (this is said with a lot of love and affection, im very curious abt how she got into that situation, if you have thoughts abt it <3)
ajsjhsdfh i wasn't going to answer this because it's explained in the next comic but kudos to you for being the only person to say 'who's the other mom' instead of 'WHO'S THE DAD'
also the way this is worded made me laugh for like 5 minutes thank you so much xx
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Prompt 256
Look, Bruce had had no plans to be a cryptid, he swore. 
Vigilante? Yes. Dark abomination of the night? No. And he was, he was technically just a dude. A well trained (and maybe feral) human, but still just a human! Apparently not to the rest of Gotham, and he honestly should have nipped those rumors when they first started. 
But like, it was also perfect for his secret identity. No one exactly expected an undead shadow-beast to have a secret identity after all. Or an undead shadow beast and some sort of ghost child to have ones, as the small child- which turned to small children- he’d taken in discovered. 
Which, look, he had tried to get Dick (and later Barbara, and Jason, and Tim, and Steph, and by the time of Duke and Cass had given up) to stop. He had tried everything he could but no, nothing could stop them. Literally nothing that he had done could stop any of them, so he had trained them instead. 
And the children were all little shits. At least by the fact that Nightwing had lead the newly-made Justice League right where he was perching, continuing to chitter and giggle near hysterically as he ducked behind him. 
And somehow they were here to try and recruit him. Great. 
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ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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Prompt:
Both Jason and Damian think the other has died during their time with the League.
Jason, in his grief, goes back to his plans of making Batman pay and beating his replacement into the ground.
Damian goes back to his assassin training like a madman, vowing to find the person who took Jason away from him.
It all gets a little complicated when he finds out Jason may not actually be dead at all.
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joehawke · 9 months
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idk why this just popped into my head, but thinking about Steve who’s actually insanely smart, he always got straight A’s in school and the whole “dumb jock” was just a stereotype that Steve got stuck under and just never tried to prove wrong. Who cared whether or not he was actually smart? So he just played along. (Besides, it was an in to flirt with the girls; to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing.) His parents had him tutored since he was old enough to count on his fingers, and sure it was exhausting, but it was something he was good at. Math, reading, science, it all came easy to him. He liked being able to impress the people around him. When he got involved with the upside down, the one thing that didn’t crumble around him was his studies. He was determined to make his parents proud. When it was time to send out all his college applications, his parents hadn’t returned home in months and by the time he heard back from the schools the upside down was worse than it’s ever been and it just wasn’t a concern anymore. So Steve stuffed the enveloped futures away. He had completely forgot about them. Until now.
It’s been a month since Hawkins cracked open. Max and Eddie both have been discharged from the hospital, on strict rehabilitation protocols. Because Wayne still had to work despite the government hush money, Steve decided it was best for Eddie to stay with him. Besides, the house is quiet and lonely, why not put it to good use? Steve had been downstairs frying eggs on a pan when Eddie came bounding around the corner clutching a stack of opened envelopes. He looked confused.
“What’s wrong Eds? What are those?” Steve asked, and when Eddie started rifling through the envelopes Steve caught the slightest sight of his school symbols. His heart dropped. “Eddie it’s not -“
“Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Columbia -“ Eddie starts naming off as he rifles through each envelope.
“Eddie.”
“You got into them all Steve. There’s like 10 different top notch schools here that you got into. Why has no one heard about this? And why are they stuffed in a drawer?”
“Because I’m not going” Steve says simply, like it was the easiest decision to make.
“What? What the fuck do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie asks appalled. And Steve gets why, he does, but he’s also determined to stand his ground.
“Why does it matter? I’m not going” Steve pouts, crossing his arms.
“Stevie. Did your parents pay for you to get in or something? Did they use the Harrington name you hate so much? There’s gotta be a reason you won’t go besides just being a stubborn asshole” and Steve gets why he‘a asking, and he’s never been hurt by it, but part of Steve flinches at the fact that Eddie couldn’t believe that Steve got in on his own account.
“No. It doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?”
“No. No we can’t. Do you know how badly I would KILL to get into any school, let alone an IVY. This is incredible Steve.” Eddie states, padding closer into the kitchen and Steve has to hold back a laugh at his rabbit slippers.
“I can’t go” Steve says quietly, turning away from Eddie and back to the stove where the eggs are starting to burn.
“Why though? Can you tell me that much?” Eddie asks, matching Steve’s soft tone.
“Because I have to be here. I have to be here incase Vecna isn’t really gone. Incase the kids need me. Incase Robin needs me. I can’t just leave…” Steve says, turning back towards Eddie to look at him before turning back towards the burnt eggs.
“Stevie. They’ll be fine. When are you gonna put yourself first sweetheart? I need a valid reason why you’re staying and I’ll drop it, because these aren’t -“
“Because you’re here!” Steve yells, turning back towards Eddie. Steve watches as Eddie’s lips part ever so slightly as his breath hitches before he continues. “When I got accepted into those schools the people who I did that for weren’t here anymore and fucking Henry Creel apparently was more prominent than ever, and the kids needed someone to take a hit and someone to protect them and Robin was here and she was the first person to care about me and what would that say about me if I left? And eventually those stupid schools were the furthest thing from my mind and then I thought about maybe going, maybe getting away from this hell… you came along and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you Eddie. With the regards of sounding cheesy, you carved a spot into my heart along side those bat bites and how was I supposed to just let you go after that?” Steve’s out of breath, and tears are starting to gather at his waterline, but he doesn’t care because Eddie is looking at him like he hung the sun and the moon and the stars and he remembers why he stays. And when Eddie’s lips collide with his own, he thinks he found home.
“We’re not done talking about this” Eddie says, and Steve chuckles as Eddie dives back in.
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munsonfamilyband · 2 months
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In Everything But Blood
Alright, I finished the giant paper I had to write (40 pages jesus christ) and then grad school kind of kicked my ass for a while BUT I AM HERE, back from a months long hiatus to finally write the claudia henderson thing I wrote weeks ago. Enjoy, there will be more but this was so long and I only got to like halfway through it but I wanted to post this.
TW!!!! Seriously TW, graphic descriptions of gore and injuries, medical talk, THIS IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE GRAPHIC ON PURPOSE
~~~~~~~~~~
Steve wasn't fully aware of how he was still moving but he wasn't going to question it as he sprints into the hospital behind Nancy and Robin, Eddie draped over his back and getting blood everywhere, Dustin limping as fast as he could behind them. He would probably be panicking more if he couldn't feel the little puffs of air Eddie was breathing out every few seconds against his neck.
The nurses all turn to the doors when Nancy slams them open and while there are already plenty of people who look worse for wear in the waiting room, no one looks quite like the group that just walked in. They're all covered in dirt and ash and sweat and lake water and blood blood bloodbloodblood-
Okay, maybe Steve is starting to panic a little.
Nancy yells for help when no one immediately moves and the gun she's holding definitely helps encourage any nurses and doctors to get over any issues they have treating Eddie.
Robin has to pry Steve's hands off of Eddie's pants. He didn't want to let him go, too scared that he would die and Steve wouldn't be there to help. She manages to gently guide him away from the doors they took Eddie through and she sits him down in a chair before sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.
"He'll be okay, Stevie. We got him here, he's okay."
Steve knows that she's only saying it to help calm him down, and probably to calm herself down too, but he appreciates it all the same.
As they sit there Steve feels the adrenaline starting to fade and he gets a very stark reminder of how his sides are stinging and every breath makes his shirt rub against the scrapes on his back and arms. If he hadn't been in a state of panic already, worried about Eddie and Max and Lucas and Erica and-
He takes a deep breath and leans into Robin's weight at his side. He can't get help yet, not until he knows everyone else is okay.
(If he were feeling braver he might also admit that he's been a little scared of doctors since Scoops, but he's not feeling very brave at the moment.)
A little while later Steve sees Lucas and Erica and forces himself to stand, hurrying over to check on them, to find out where Max is. He instantly knows that something went wrong when Erica slams into him and holds on tight. He only gets more concerned when Lucas leans in to hold onto Erica and Steve at the same time. And then the pit gets bigger when he feels tears hit his shirt.
"Lucas, hey, you're alright. Hey, look at me- hey. What happened? Where's Max?" Steve stares at Lucas's face as he speaks, trying to get an idea of how he's feeling.
Lucas takes a shuddering breath in before he answers, "She-she-.. it was going fine and then... Jason-Jason fuckin'- he crushed her Walkman and I couldn't-she was floating and Jason had-had a gun and I-She was-was dead, for a minute, and then she-she just started breathing again and I dont-"
Steve pulls Lucas closer again, a hand on the back of his neck to give him support as he spoke quietly. "Okay, alright, you did good. She's here, right? She'll be okay. She's gonna be okay." Steve stayed there with them for who knows how long, only separating when he heard a familiar voice gasp from the door.
"Oh thank god, Erica, Lucas!"
Both of them turned to see their mom in the waiting room and ran at her, where she met them in a crushing hug. As Sue held her children close she looked up, tears falling and made eye contact with Steve. Steve saw her mouth 'Thank you' to him and it made his stomach fall to his feet. Sue had always adored Steve for protecting her kids, first from Billy and then in the "fire" at the mall. But this time, Steve was the reason they got hurt. He let them go off on their own and they got hurt.
He nods and walks back over to Robin and Dustin where they're sitting, suddenly remembering his injuries again as he moves away from the Sinclairs. He has to force himself to walk normally just to make it to the chair, only to nearly collapse back into it.
~~~~
"Alright, time to go, Dust. Now that your foot's been treated I really need to get you home. Claudia is going to start calling morgues if I don't," Steve grunts out as he helps heave Dustin out of his seat and get settled on his crutches. Robin stands once Dustin is steady and she follows them out of the hospital and climbs into the passenger of Steve's car. (Nancy had left once Eddie was taken to stash the RV somewhere and she came back with his beemer. Steve isn't going to ask.)
The ride to Dustin's house is quiet, Steve can tell each of them is silently asking anything out there that the Henderson house was spared. Thankfully when they pulled into the driveway the house was in one piece and only seconds after parking Claudia is yanking open the front door and running out to meet them at the car.
She runs up to Dustin who had managed to stand up using the car as support and they both cling to each other in tears. Steve watches them for a moment before he has to look away or he'll start crying. He spaces out for a bit, just holding Robin's hand when he get startled by the harsh knocks on his window. Looking up, he locks eyes with Claudia and he can't quite read her expression but he can hear her say, "Get your butt out of that car, Steve, I need to look at you. You too, Robbie."
He and Robin make eye contact for a split second before hurrying to comply. As soon as Steve is standing fully he finds himself being yanked down into a hug, Claudia's arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Steve has to take a deep, shaky breath and blink very quickly to stop any tears. He loves Claudia's hugs, they feel like birthdays and Christmas and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket with hot chocolate all at once. When he hears her mumbling about how glad she is that he's okay, well, maybe he cries a little.
After he and Robin are both fully looked at by Claudia and then each given at least 3 hugs, they climb back into his car and pull away form the Hendersons.
"Am I taking you home or are you coming with me?" Steve glances over at Robin as he says it. He knows the answer without he responding, just because her face pinches in the way it does when she's afraid of making Steve sad.
"I know last time we went to yours but I just... I need to see my parents. I'm so sorry-"
"Robs, it's okay to want to check on your parents. I'm not upset. Can you just.. keep your walkie on our channel tonight?" Steve glances at her again, getting hit with another Robin look that says she can see right through him.
"Always, Stevie. I am sorry though, I hate the idea of you in that house alone."
"I'll be okay, Robbie. I'm just gonna sleep as soon as I get home anyways."
Robin stares at him for a moment longer and then nods, grabbing one of his hands to hold in hers for the last half of the drive. She only lets it go to give him a tight squeeze before hurrying out of the car to her front door.
Steve waits until she's safely inside before he pulls away and goes to his own house.
The moment he shuts the door behind himself it feels like all of the energy in his body has been drained away. He can barely keep himself standing, only the pain that shoots down his spin when he leans back onto the door keeps him upright.
He forces himself to trudge upstairs and goes right to the bathroom. He starts with getting the clothes off, deciding to just cut them off so he doesn't have to lift his arms.
Then comes the cleaning. He first tries to shower but he can only handle standing with pressured water pelting his back and soap stinging his feet for a minute at the most. When he gives up on the shower he figures he should at least try to clean the bites.
One second he's standing in front of the mirror and reaching to pull off the fabric, the next his whole body is covered in sweat and he's sitting on his ass on the tile floor. His hands are shaking at he wants to vomit from the pain.
No changing the bandage then.
Steve forces himself to at least wash his face and hands with a washcloth before he collapses directly into bed and falling asleep in seconds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Claudia is worried. She had already been a little concerned when Steve showed up two days earlier for lunch with a flushed face and too pale skin. She watched him and he didn't act any different but she kept note of it so that she could watch him. But then, when they were supposed to have lunch at 12 and Steve still hadn't shown up or even called by 1, well, Claudia was concerned. Steve always insisted on being on time, claiming it came from all the sports he had done (but she had heard him mumble about his parents harassing him about being late before when he had a head injury, so she just nodded along to his excuses). Being an hour late was entirely out of character and something in her gut, the same feeling she had experienced multiple times over the past few years about her Dusty, told her that she needed to go see him, and soon.
Dustin was thankfully not at home, spending the afternoon with the Wheelers, so she didn't have to tell him what was happening before she got into her car and drove to Steve's house.
What greeted her when she parked only made her more nervous. Steve, she had noticed, had strange habits relating to many things. He had to sit close enough to touch the person next to him, he tried to hide it but he never kept alcohol in the house anymore, he kept the curtains closed facing the backyard, and he always, always leaves the porch light on.
But that afternoon in early April, the porch light was off.
Claudia parked quickly and hurried to the front door, not even bothering with knocking. Instead she pulled out the key Steve had made for her and Dusty after the previous summer and let herself in.
The dread that had been growing in her gut only intensified when she entered the house and a very familiar smell hit her nose.
Body odor, sweat and salt and morning breath.
Bodily fluids, urine and vomit. And blood.
Infection, sickly sweet rot mixing with something like ammonia.
Time seemed to freeze as Claudia ran up the stairs, calling Steve's name all the while. She knew those smells, she had dealt with them at work too many times to not know them, and to smell them in relation to Steve made her blood run cold. She needed to see him, this boy who cared for her Dusty so much, this boy who had wormed his way into her heart, this boy who was her son.
Rushing into Steve's room she was greeted by her worst fears. Steve was lying on his bed, the sheets clearly kicked off and tangled around his ankles. He was only wearing his boxers and they had clearly not been changed in a few days, stained with his sweat and urine. His skin was covered in sweat, his chest and cheeks were bright red and the rest of his skin was a waxy yellow. He was shirtless, vomit covering his chin and chest and staining the pillow and sheets below him. He had what looked like scraps of a sweater or shirt wrapped loosely around his stomach. It was filthy, saturated with sweat, blood, dirt and pus. The smell in the room was much stronger than by the front door, her eyes watering briefly before she forced herself to focus. She was a nurse, she could handle this.
Claudia moved to the bed and gently kneeled onto the mattress. As she moved closer she could hear Steve mumbling to himself but it was so quiet and so slurred that nothing was legible. Claudia placed a hand on his forehead and jerked back in shock at how hot his skin was. Glancing around frantically for anything to help she saw the phone at his bedside table and grabbed it, punching in 911 before cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she continued to check over Steve.
The next moments all passed in a blur for Claudia as she explained who she was and where she was to the dispatcher before they hung up and she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The ride to the hospital passed in what seemed like a blink of an eye and suddenly Claudia found herself in the empty waiting room at Hawkins General and she became aware of two equally important facts.
Her sweater and hands were saturated with Steve's sweat and blood.
She needed to call Robin.
The blood would have to wait, because she knew that Robin would want to be there for Steve so she managed to wipe her hand with some tissues before dialing the Buckley's house.
"Buckley residence, this is Robin," Robin's voice came through the receiver and Claudia let out a loud sigh.
"Robbie, honey, thank goodness you're home. I have some bad news. I'm at the hospital right now sweetie, it's about Steve." Claudia paused after she finished speaking, waiting to see what Robin would say. Unfortunately for Claudia, rather than saying anything, she had to listen to a gut wrenching gasp and sob from Robin, so she chose to keep talking. "I went to his house and found him in his room. I think he had been hurt and it got infected. If your parents are home, I think you should come here, he would want you here."
Robin mumbled a few okays, clearly through tears before she hung up. In the silence after Claudia had no choice but to go clean herself up, allowing herself a minute to collapse onto a toilet seat and cry. Her boy was hurt and she couldn't help him, he was so hurt he didn't even know she was there and she didn't know what to do.
Robin arrived about 10 minutes after they ended their call with a surprise in tow.
Jim Hopper, thinner and without a mustache, but somehow alive and marching into the hospital like he was going into hell. Knowing about his daughter, he probably felt like he was in hell.
Robin spotted Claudia first and ran over to her, arms open and Claudia pulled her right into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth the way Steve always loves. Robin held back just as tight and cried into her shoulder while Claudia whispered to her, "He'll be okay, he's going to be okay."
Jim didn't say anything, just nodded - as if she hadn't thought he was dead until that moment - before he collapsed into a chair, head in his hands and knee bouncing with anxiety.
Hours passed, Robin had curled herself up in a chair next to Claudia and was leaning into her side. Jim had moved to sit on the other side of Robin and surprisingly she reached out and held his hand.
After ages of sitting there in silence a doctor walked through the doors. Claudia recognized her immediately and knew that she had been lucky to find Steve alive if she had been called in. Dr. Graham was one of the only wound specialists they had at the hospital and she focused on the worst cases.
Claudia straightened in her seat, her two companions also coming to attention as Dr. Graham came to sit with them.
"Hello, Claudia. I'm sorry you had to come in on your day off but you got very lucky. If you hadn't brought him in today he may have gone into sepsis. Thankfully he has you listed as his emergency contact so I can fill you in on everything. I want to start by saying that he is currently stable and on heavy medication. He had multiple heavily infected wounds, primarily on his abdomen but there was also apparent road rash across the back of his arms and upper back. We were able to debride the wounds from the rash relatively easily but his abdomen was more difficult. The bandage he had been using was extremely dirty and not made for wound coverage so many fibers had been imbedded into the open wounds. Luckily there had been little necrotizing fasciitis but there was enough that we had to remove the dead tissue. I do want to make sure you understand that he was very seriously injured and delayed treatment made it worse. We are going to test the pus we collected for different bacteria to narrow down the treatment for him but I'm thinking it may be leptospirosis, since he is visibly jaundiced and the injures are obviously animal bites. We have him sedated currently and on heavy antibiotics in the ICU. If you wear protective gear you can visit him for a little bit, but only people on his emergency contact list can come."
Claudia's head was spinning, she was hearing the words being said and she was following the doctor down the hall to the ICU. She was putting paper scrubs on over her clothes and donning a mask and gloves, but it was all in a daze. She needed to see Steve, she needed to see him breathing, then she would be okay.
She was not okay.
Seeing Steve only made her collapse into a chair in tears. He looked so small in the hospital bed, wrapped in wires and tubes. But he was breathing. Robin collapsed onto the foot of his bed and bent over his shins while she sobbed and Jim stumbled into the wall by the door with a hand over his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent anguish. They knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was breathing and he had to be okay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alright that was part one, I'm working on the next half but wow that ended up being really long
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