revivalproject | [CALIBRATIONS] Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down...

Entry tags:

[CALIBRATIONS] Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down...

WHO: Steve Harrington
WHERE: Steve's Room
WHAT: Calibrations!
WHEN: 6/10-7/10
WARNINGS: Child abandonment, violence, and drugging

When you awaken, the first thing you notice is that the 'room' you are in is pretty small. Really fucking small. Because it's not a room as you might imagine it, but instead a car. You sit beside Steve as he drives, eyes on the road and expression grim. Outside the road is long and abandoned and dark. No lights except for the distant stars and the distant crack of lightning. He isn't driving toward that. He doesn't seem to be driving toward anything. His hands tighten against the wheel as he looks over and notices you there.

"Where to?"

And just like that the glovebox opens and out comes an old map of Hawkins. There are four circled areas: Starcourt Mall, Nancy's House, Will's House, and Home. He reaches for the radio and turns it up a little. The song is Tears for Fears, Everybody Wants to Rule the World. He hums as he drives along silently, waiting for your call.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve glances at Tommy and then turns the wheel needlessly to get it onto the path for the mall. The road is dark enough that the distant flickers of flame can be seen even in the distance. Steve drives straight for it without any sign of fear.

"I'm an idiot," he says plainly as the fire gets closer and preternaturally bright. "Clearly. 'Metaphors' or whatever the shit. But I'm a good friend, I think." The light from the fire fills the cabin and whites out everything around them. When it clears, Tommy is in a bathroom and Steve and a strange girl are sitting on the floor before him. The Steve who drove Tommy here is standing behind him, watching too.

He smiles, just a little.

Dude, really?

"Are we in a bathroom?" Dream-Tommy asks Dream-Steve. "Dude, weird memory place. Please tell me this isn't going to be you getting off or something."

It's not. Instead it is Steve and Robin, his friend, on the floor clearly coming off of being drugged. They are stuck being honest and asking questions in the most extreme version of truth or truth game ever played. Steve, under the influence, admits to having feelings for someone. Someone who is clearly Robin. Robin who looks like she's getting more and more miserable with each word.

The reason why is clear a second later.

She comes out. Slowly and without the words. She lays out the feelings she had for Tammy Thompson, not Steve. And Steve, first confused that she's talking about a girl, finally gets it. Gets that, once again, his love is being rejected.

Or. Not rejected, maybe. Perhaps just...converted into another thing.

He teases her. There is no disgust. No disbelief. Just mocking of Robin's taste in women and laughter as he takes the hit on the chin and starts the process of changing his affection into friendship. Robin, relieved, laughs too. The two of them laugh and Tommy gets to watch the best friendship of Steve's life form on a dirty bathroom floor.

As the memory fades away, Steve is still smiling.

"Sorry to disappoint. Next one will be me getting off..."

Tommy snorts in amusement as the memory fades.

"Reminds me of Cassie, but a lot more high. What was up with that? I mean, how did you not guess that she was a lesbian?"

She was clearly so upset over being hit on then.

Steve rolls his eyes. "It's the 80's in Hawkins. It's not like here where everyone has some boyfriend or another. Gay people don't wanna get bashed so they keep it quiet. I just...didn't even think about it."

He shrugs a shoulder. "I'd also been tortured for awhile and drugged by Russians so, whatever. Not my best moment for figuring shit out."

Ah. The 80s. Yeah that would explain some shit. Though he does hold up defensive hands. And hey? The memory seems to have calmed his car anxiety. For now.

"Dude, not everyone has boyfriends. It's mostly just Tony and Jon and then Noctis and Gladio. Two couples."

Wait, no, back it up.

"Russians. You were drugged and tortured by Russians during the Cold War. What the actual fuck man?"

"The what?" Forgive Steve, he didn't pay attention in class. Or to the news.

"I mean, yeah. They wanted to know shit about the Upside Down and our friend with the magic powers. Which like, compared to Billy she is a birthday party magician but it was really cool in Hawkins. And then there was the monsters and Vecna..."

He waves his hand as though to encompass all of that in a neat package. "That was it, though. Oh, except for the prison in Siberia Hopper was stuck in, I think. I wasn't really paying attention when he explained it all."

"And now I can see why you couldn't tell that chick was a lesbian," Tommy laughs. Seriously? How had he not known the cold fucking war?

"There are Asgardians that Billy makes look like party magicians. We can accept that your friend is cool anyway. And yet here you are, on a front line in the Cold War, and you don't even know it exists. How shelters is your home town?"

"Ass Guardians?" Steve frowns. "Wait. I think I need to know more about whatever the fuck an Ass Guard is and why they have magic powers."

He isn't entirely serious though and just shrugs. "Hawkins is a small town so, I don't know? Very? I'm also kind of dumb though so I might be a bad representative."

Tommy of course has to snort. See, he wasn't the only one that went there! Worst name ever, Billy.

"They're gods. Norse gods. Asgardians. A-s-g-a-r-d-i-a-n-s. Fuck what did they teach people in school in the eighties? Other than stupidly huge hair."

Kinda dumb? Tommy shrugs.

"There's more than one type of smarts."

If Billy came up with that name and Steve finds out, that is the end of things. It's a terrible name. Ass Guard. It's like a hemorrhoid cream.

"Gods. Wait. So your brother puts gods to shame?" He might maybe take it easier on Billy than he thought before. Shit.

"Look, I have no idea what they taught people in school because I barely graduated it. More than one type of smarts, sure, but mine is connected to a basketball or a bat, so. I don't know the use there."

Dude, please share lines like that with Tommy. He would love them.

"Man, you wouldn't even believe me if I told you. But he could totally kick divine asses in a magic contest. Don't tell him that though. He doesn't need an ego."

Tommy was the ego one.

"You saying there is something wrong with the sorta smarts required to play sports? Careful, you might offend me."

Steve snorts. "Better get them Ass Guards."

When Tommy says that about sports though, the car comes to an abrupt and screeching halt.

"Wait, what? You do sports? What kind of sports? Like weird magic ones or real sports?"

Tommy snorts. Yeah. Better than those Ass Guards.

Though mostly he's gasping in shock, hand bracing against the dashboard. Don't mind him while he breathes a bit faster because fuck man don't do this to him. Cars are horrible. Even old beamers.

"Okay? First? There aren't magic sports so far as I know. Second, I've played a bit of ball with the team. When Thor isn't making it storm."

But then he shakes his head.

"No sports. I'm just a hero with physical super powers."

The disappointment is tangible in the car but Steve recovers fast and tries to recalibrate.

"Oh, okay. I mean, if you were interested, I could probably find something for us to do so long as you don't run around me in circles. Is that even possible?" Tommy could walk so it probably was the same with running. One speed for normal and the other for super? Or maybe he was just crawling all the time to be at 'normal' speed for everyone else?

Jesus. Steve hopes that's not the case.

Definitely crawling, Snail.

"I mean if you're that desperate to get your ass handed to you at a sportsball, why not."

Just don't challenge him to swimming.

"Dude, I just want to have someone do some sports around here. Billy--the other one, not your brother-- he's the only person I know that would want to play basketball and there's a pretty high chance one of us will leave the court bleeding if we do that."

Maybe he should start a sports club around here? Who would really want to play? And who would be able to be fair competition without the powers and stuff?

Other one? Who the hell was that. Though Tommy would learn in the morning and shit the bruises from that encounter would smart.

"Ah. Sexual tension on the court. How romantic," Tommy snickers.

Steve makes a face at that. "Fuck no, man. The only sexual tension I want is with Eddie. Billy is..."

Steve considers a second and, with his newly appreciated bisexuality, he has to admit...

"Okay, he's hot, but so is a fucking metal grate in the sun. Not touching either of those."

If Tommy's ears could perk up they would right now. Another relationship he can vicariously enjoy? Bless you.

"You and Eddie? Oh man, that's adorable. Tell me about that when we're conscious. Not theoretical dude you clearly had mad sports rivalry with."

Steve, even as a representation of himself in his head, can apparently blush.

"Yeah, yeah. I will tell you all about our fumbling relationship. It's really riveting stuff." To be fair, it was, but Steve is probably gonna need to be coaxed into the full story. Not just 'He's hot and we kiss now'.

"And that 'sports rival' there almost killed me. I can show you that too. It's on the map." He grips the wheel tighter. "Not a nice memory though, I'll warn you. Don't recommend."

Dude, he barely even has had relationships. For him it is riveting. Especially since there is clearly more to two guys from the 80s making out than there is with Tony and Jon.

"I'm made up of not nice memories, rich boy."

Still, he doesn't think he needs to see that.

"Show me your place."

Steve looks at Tommy for a second before nodding and turning the car toward that direction. Within a second there is light filling the cabin. When it clears, Tommy is standing in what passes for an expensive dining room in the early 80's.

The scene is a family at dinner, ostensibly, formal and silent except for the sound of utensils moving. At the door are suitcases either just brought in or packed to leave. Steve, around eight years old, sits in an ironed polo, hair carefully combed back. He's between a thin, tired looking woman nursing a glass of wine from a mostly empty bottle and a man in a full suit reading a magazine as he eats his steak. Steve looks between them, clearly waiting for something. His mother notices.

"If you want to be excused you need to eat your greens," she says, missing that his plate is empty. Steve blinks and opens his mouth, likely to say that, but the phone ringing interrupts him. His father grunts in annoyance.

"Get that, Mary?"

"We let Mary go, Richard. She's been gone for months."

"Then who is watching Ste- Oh, forget it." He puts his magazine down and goes to get the phone himself. Steve watches him go before looking at his mother. She is looking at the wine bottle as she drains the last of it into her glass.

"Mom," he asks. "Are we gonna have cake for dessert?"

"Hm?" She looks at him, confused. "Steven, didn't I tell you to keep an eye on the sugar you eat? And don't slouch."

"Bu-" He straightens up and is about to say more when his father sweeps back in.

"Change of plans," he announces. "I need to be out on a red-eye. They're sending a car for me. You can come on the other flight and meet me there in a wee-"

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?" Claire laughs derisively. "Give you a whole week to spend time with that hussy you hired as a secretary?"

"Claire, for the love of God..."

"No. I am coming with you. I'll have someone come around and grab whatever I didn't get to pack yet."

"And what about your son?" Richard gestures expansively even though Steve hasn't moved or spoken since he came back into the room. "You say we fired Mary. Do you have another nanny ready to watch him?"

"He's ten already. He's got the phone number for the maid, the cook, and my brother in Indianapolis. It's just a week before the new nanny arrives. Don't you dare use that as the reason to go and have your holiday with that tramp."

"You're paranoid, Claire. Completely paranoid."

"And you did this on purpose. Figured I would just let you go off because it was so last minute and what else could we do?"

Richard gets up from the table and walks away, still complaining and yelling as Claire follows behind. Steve, alone, watches as the cook comes in to clear away the dishes. She smiles at him and drops a small strawberry cupcake in front of him. It has a candle in it, lit and dripping.

"They'll be back in a second. Wait for them to blow it out," she says. "It'll be nice to have at least that with them before they go."

The cook leaves and Steve looks at the cupcake before pushing it away, letting the candle melt down into the icing. The cook was new. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know about his strawberry allergy. He looks out toward where his parents are still yelling and then pushes off from the table to go off on his own out, into the backyard. He jumps into the pool, clothes and all.

The water is nice. Swimming is nice. And best of all, it hides tears.

Well fuck. All these years and Tommy has thought he might appreciate just a bit more attention from his own mother. But this was a whole other shade of neglect.

Actually, it felt a bit like how Wanda and Vision treated him. And Tommy was shaking with rage while the memory played out.

The memory fades as the sound of a car honks in the front of the house. The door opens and closes twice, once for the cook and then again for his parents leaving. No one has found Steve in the pool as he's left once again on his own.

Back in the car he sighs and forces a smile. "Coulda been worse. I've seen worse in here..."

CW: Drugging

Dw, notifs help (I'm traveling, sans headphones, it has no cc, could scene be summarized?)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject