Steve Harrington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
haplesshairpile) wrote2019-07-11 08:41 pm
haplesshairpile) wrote2019-07-11 08:41 pm
this may as well happen (debut)
Russian torture really isn't so bad.
Okay, well, it's actually fucking awful. Steve's swollen face is throbbing in time with his pulse and he's pretty sure at least one of his ribs is cracked, but he'll be fine. He gets his ass kicked on a regular basis at this point. What's one more black eye?
The drugs though, man. The fucking drugs. He doesn't even care that he might have internal bleeding because he feels fantastic. They're out of that weird bunker and the kids are okay, so he tries to ignore that they're still being chased and just takes a breath. It's actually really easy to do with how high he is. Whatever they injected him with makes him feel like he's floating, like he just smoked ten of the world's finest joints, and holy shit, he is starving.
He and Robin sneak out of the movie theater in search of food, and Steve gets distracted by the mall's glass ceiling. He really hated this place, after spending all summer here scooping ice cream in his stupid little uniform, but he kind of likes it now. Yeah, sure, there's a Russian bunker a mile underground trying to crack open a hole to an alternate dimension full of hideous monsters, but the ceiling is nice. And the company. He guesses that's pretty nice too.
"Robin, come look at this," he calls out, but his vision sort of swims and after he blinks a few times, he realizes that he is no longer staring up at the bright, fluorescent lights of the ceiling. Instead he's blinking up at a night sky full of stars and while that's pretty cool too, he has no idea how he got here. And why would he come outside when they were so dead set on going to the food court? Corn dogs, man. That was the new mission!
"Robin? Stop messing around. I'm fucking star--" Steve blinks as he finally turns around in a slow circle and realizes that nothing looks familiar. He is definitely not in the parking lot of the Starcourt Mall, and he doesn't even think that he's in Hawkins anymore. "--ving. What the hell?"
Steve stands there in the middle of an unfamiliar street, hands on the hips of his red, white, and blue striped Scoops Ahoy uniform, and lets out something like a giggle. It isn't the proper response to blinking and finding yourself somewhere completely unexpected, but that's all Steve really has in him right now. He just has to laugh. He'll laugh and laugh, and panic later once he's himself again.
But for now-- "This place has corn dogs, right?"
Okay, well, it's actually fucking awful. Steve's swollen face is throbbing in time with his pulse and he's pretty sure at least one of his ribs is cracked, but he'll be fine. He gets his ass kicked on a regular basis at this point. What's one more black eye?
The drugs though, man. The fucking drugs. He doesn't even care that he might have internal bleeding because he feels fantastic. They're out of that weird bunker and the kids are okay, so he tries to ignore that they're still being chased and just takes a breath. It's actually really easy to do with how high he is. Whatever they injected him with makes him feel like he's floating, like he just smoked ten of the world's finest joints, and holy shit, he is starving.
He and Robin sneak out of the movie theater in search of food, and Steve gets distracted by the mall's glass ceiling. He really hated this place, after spending all summer here scooping ice cream in his stupid little uniform, but he kind of likes it now. Yeah, sure, there's a Russian bunker a mile underground trying to crack open a hole to an alternate dimension full of hideous monsters, but the ceiling is nice. And the company. He guesses that's pretty nice too.
"Robin, come look at this," he calls out, but his vision sort of swims and after he blinks a few times, he realizes that he is no longer staring up at the bright, fluorescent lights of the ceiling. Instead he's blinking up at a night sky full of stars and while that's pretty cool too, he has no idea how he got here. And why would he come outside when they were so dead set on going to the food court? Corn dogs, man. That was the new mission!
"Robin? Stop messing around. I'm fucking star--" Steve blinks as he finally turns around in a slow circle and realizes that nothing looks familiar. He is definitely not in the parking lot of the Starcourt Mall, and he doesn't even think that he's in Hawkins anymore. "--ving. What the hell?"
Steve stands there in the middle of an unfamiliar street, hands on the hips of his red, white, and blue striped Scoops Ahoy uniform, and lets out something like a giggle. It isn't the proper response to blinking and finding yourself somewhere completely unexpected, but that's all Steve really has in him right now. He just has to laugh. He'll laugh and laugh, and panic later once he's himself again.
But for now-- "This place has corn dogs, right?"
no subject
Hopper starts talking about a package and Steve eyes him warily, feeling something like fear curl coldly in his belly. There really is no leaving this place, and it's starting to sink in.
"A place to stay? Like, by myself?" Steve asks, feeling entirely unequipped without really knowing why. He was a latchkey kid for most of his life. He's used to being home alone, but still. This is different. This is really being alone. "Where do I get the envelope?"
He blinks again, brows furrowed. "And what envelope is big enough for a mobile phone?"
no subject
"And, kid, you've got a world of culture shock comin' your way," he says as he fishes his slim cell phone out of his pocket and holds it out to Steve. "Calls, messages, games, a fuckin' step counter. You name it, that thing can do it. It'll all be at the train station most likely. I can take you there once you've had a chance to rest up a bit."
no subject
"Shut up, this isn't a phone," Steve says with a scoff, giving Hopper a skeptical look as he reaches out to take it. The screen lights up without having any buttons at all, and Steve's eyes widen. "Holy shit."
He fiddles with the phone for a bit, utterly fascinated, until the bright light of it makes his head pound even harder. Hissing, he holds the phone back out. "Has medicine come that far too, or is it still just good old Tylenol?"
no subject
Hopper still has a lot of questions for Steve, things he wants to know about going on back home, but he can give the kid a break. Those questions can wait until the morning, when he's had some time to recover. Right now, Hopper won't be terribly surprised if he comes back with the painkillers and Steve is already asleep.
Hawkins has a way of screwing people over in the past few years. He can only hope Darrow doesn't prove to be just as good at it.