Work Text:
Nine crouched in the bushes, knees aching despite him being just ten years old. The cold October air was making him shiver uncontrollably, fingers like ice and skin riddled with goosebumps. In his hand was the crumpled faded yellow missing child poster that had been hanging just outside his old room’s porthole window for nearly two years now. The name on it was that of a boy the same age, hair color, eye color, and height. On could say that the boy crouched in the bushes was the same boy, but that wasn’t true. Nine had been waiting for this moment ever since the nice office lady with red glasses stapled this to Papa’s board. Tonight, Nine was going to become Steve Harrington.
Papa liked Nine when he played nice. He always said that Nine was his favorite, and for a while, he believed him. After some time, Nine could take on the look of just about anyone in the world, and not in the way that Eight could. He could actually become people, right down to the bone structure. Papa always made him take on girly looks (like the red glasses office lady) for his never-ending tests, but Nine knew what he liked best. At night, when it was just him and the security camera pointed at his bed, he would change into Papa or a random male doctor just to try it out. It seemed that the only person that seemed interested in this behavior was Papa himself, but even that wasn’t much to go on.
The night Eight escaped, so did Nine. He became one of the many guards that ran out after Eight during the skirmish, heart beating a million miles an hour and ready to be caught at any second. However, no one said anything, and when he walked off into the night, the other guards just assumed he was looking in the woods by foot. He stayed in that guard’s face for nearly three days, just walking further and further. He hadn’t been planning on escaping like Eight had, but he did have a fantasy. The missing boy was the same age as him, and everything else Nine needed to become him was printed right on that poster. It would be nothing to become him, to take his place in the Harrington home, to go to school in his shoes, and do whatever it was that real kids did.
So that’s what he did.
The authorities found the missing long-assumed-dead Steve Harrington the next frosty morning right outside the gas station on Route 10 and immediately took him to the hospital for examination. The doctors diagnosed him with the first stages of hypothermia and acute starvation, but aside from that, not a single soul bothered to test his DNA. The boy sitting there was easily just a deeply traumatized Steve Harrington, two years older than when he went missing that cold night in November. His parents (his parents, his parents, his parents) flocked to see him as soon as they were cleared to, and Nine- no, Steve, managed a weak smile at them. He had no idea who this boy was or what his behaviors were, but when his parents took him home days later, he didn’t think he’d need to do much acting to convince them.
Unbeknownst to the person who made the poster, Steve Harrington was a boy that was often left alone. His parents had been out of state the day he went missing, and the person who reported it wasn’t even them. The day Steve went missing, his parents had left five hours prior to him being due at the Hagan’s house for dinner and a sleepover with their son Tommy. In those two hours, detectives put together than he’d left the house to ride his bike and never returned home. Mr. Hagan had tried to call the Harringtons, but they didn’t answer. He ended up calling the police shortly after, and after several hours of investigation and a determination that Steve was, in fact, missing, the Harringtons’ secretary finally answered their cell.
Nine gathered this much as he listened to a mix of his new father’s bitter rants, his new mother’s incoherent crying, and his new babysitters monologuing. Two days after he’d been brough back home, his father and mother took off for a business trip in some other state, swearing up and down that their new babysitter was going to keep him safe. His new mother at least promised him to call as soon as they landed, that this trip was incredibly important and she would skip it if it wasn’t so big, and that she was happy to have him home. If Nine wasn’t so paranoid about Papa discovering what he’d done, he would’ve been far more excited to be left alone so early. It seemed to him that the Harringtons were just as desperate to return to normal as he was to be normal.
Fortunately, that and many other nights passed by without Papa breaking down the Harrington’s expensive spruce door down. Hawkins- his new home- seemed more than willing to just quietly except him back into their boring monotony, and Steve was more than willing to lay down in the current. He studied his room religiously for the first few months, spending as much of the time he was given to “heal” to learn just who Steve was. He found that he liked this boy’s former life actually. He liked the images of the boy- himself- standing among the other peewee baseball boys in the picture pinned above his headboard. He liked how the boy’s old Nike shoes fit his feet (despite his initial guess being a little off). He really liked the blue and red colors splashed all over his room, his bed and his own little bathroom to the left. He felt like he was cheating, and someone was going to find out and cost him everything, but everything continued on smoothly. He was Steve Harrington, someone’s son, someone’s best friend, and someone’s classmate come that August.
Even when they found the heavily decayed remains of a boy about his age in the quarry four months later, his parents responded by coming home early via his mother’s request just in case it triggered him. He cried in her arms, and she soothed his back with her soft hands, but she would never know that the boy she was holding wasn’t her son. Her son was dead now, and the tears falling from his eyes were more out of relief than reliving bad memories. There was no going back now.
-
Steve lived by that sentiment. When he turned thirteen, his father came home and declared that he was to be a man now and that none of that pansy faggot nonsense was going to fly anymore, no matter that his mom said. He wasn’t sure what his dad was talking about until he realized that it was the five-year anniversary of the day he went missing. His mother and father argued for several hours about it, but Steve found that he actually agreed with the old man for once. There was not a “before” anymore. The lab, Papa, the tests, the shapeshifting, the guilt and panic- that was all old news now. He was Steve Harrington, a young man whose biggest goal was catching the eye of Sandy Barnes at school and working on his free throw tomorrow at practice. He didn’t want to think about it all anymore, and by the way his dad was carrying on, it sounded like he didn’t either.
That was alright. He was the king of getting over things. His dad threatened half of Hawkins into shutting up about the event, and the other half just didn’t care to talk about it in the first place. He continued on as normal, biking around with Tommy and the guys, scaring Jonathan Byers until he pissed his hand-me-down jeans, and taking Sandy Barnes to the Snowball. His parents made sure he was just as much a normal boy and all the other normal boys, and he embraced it wholly.
In fact, he played his part so well he nearly forgot himself in the process. He was King Steve now, a showmanship of all things teenage boy related, and that was his goal. His parents fucked off more and more now that everyone forgot that they’d lost their son once because of that sort of thing, leaving him to really push the boundaries. He’d become the champion of cool kids, learning about the cool things and the way cool things worked better than everyone else. He always got the girl. He always made the saving toss in the game. He always knew the best things to say to make someone laugh. He had it all, and when he partied, he felt himself blossom in an aggressive peacock-fanning of performance. Not only was he the coolest boy in the Hawkins, but he was also the most connected and the most liked- something he made sure of.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that everything went as bad as it did.
-
After Starcourt, he felt panic and fear that he hadn’t in years. There was solace in the fact that no one knew he was Nine, though. Not even Eleven knew, but how could she? Steve’s time at the lab was often spent in a grand total of three rooms since he was not permitted to meet the others (in case he shapeshifted into them, of course). He met Eight on accident the night he escaped, and only knew what she was capable of when she made him see a wall that was not real seconds before he phased through it. He was hidden from the world, and even when he was out in the open, he still chose to hide. When HNL was exposed for what they’d done to Barb, he felt a little better. Now that was all lost.
After Starcourt, Steve felt something deep and raw shift inside of him. He felt it when the boys first discovered Eleven but playing dumb was easy enough. He was already kind of dumb by everyone’s standards, and when Nancy and Jonathan started their thing, he found some kind of peace in keeping the idiots safe. Well, trying at least. They might not realize it, but as he’d gotten older, he found that disregarding everything let people think he was just along for the ride. He knew better though, despite all the fear and panic running through his veins. He was very aware of the consequences of his actions. He knew that Nancy deserved better than him. He knew that a baseball bat was all he could offer. He didn’t understand El’s powers and the hell she brought forth, but he understood where she was coming from.
After Starcourt, Robin talked to him about being a lesbian. He was glad she could explain it to him while they weren’t on drugs, in a shitty mall bathroom, and also not being hunted like prey animals. He’d known what lesbians were in concept via his dad’s foul mouth, but after his crash course in being a person with empathy these past years, he found he didn’t actually know much about anything. She took him to a funny little rock she called her “place,” and explained why she liked Tammy in the stillness of the early morning air. Steve would have to be dumb as rocks not to see how much Robin cared.
After Starcourt, Steve took himself out to that rock alone, long after he’d dropped Robin off at her parent’s house. He took a deep breath and imagined her in his head. He imagined her long, long brown hair and her deep-set brown eyes. He imagined what she’d look like now that he was older. Would she be curvy like Barb was? Maybe stick-thin petite like Nance? He took a deep breath and imagined her voice and the way she’d say her name. Nine.
After Starcourt, Steve became Nine again for the first time in years and cried like a fucking baby.
-
Jonathan and Nancy visited Hawkins every few months, and this always made him smile. They’d become really close with Robin after he’d forced them all to bond via some strategic bonfires, meaning that when they visited, he could host even more strategic bonfires. Robin came home for the entirety of summer from collage, and while Jonathan and Nancy were pretty stationary in California, it was nice when everyone was back in Hawkins all at once.
He hadn’t gotten the guts to tell them yet, but he had told Robin.
It came out on accident like all things did nowadays. She wanted to come over and bring Tammy, and despite being in a mood, he agreed because she sounded desperate. Tammy used liked him once, but now that she and Robin were secretly dating, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. Steve was used to being the vehicle for getting a romance going, but when they arrived, all Tammy wanted to do was paint nails, braid hair, and smoke weed. Robin- curse her heart eyes- was more than apt to play along.
Steve sat there, nails painted, high, drunk, and told them all about how he used to be a girl once. He explained that he didn’t do any of this shit because they didn’t let him, but sometimes he thought about it. He talked about how much he liked Nancy’s pretty shit and how he wondered how things would be different if he’d stayed a girl.
Tammy left less than an hour later, and Robin demanded he explain himself because she couldn’t fucking believe what he was talking about and that he didn’t trust her. So, instead of talking it out like a sober person, Steve became Nine again for the second time not even a full year after the last time. Robin screamed bloody murder and Steve started crying, not sure what the fuck he had done and how the fuck fix it. Robin calmed down after about ten minutes of screaming and hiding in Steve’s bedroom, only coming down when it was clear that Steve wasn’t going to hurt her or become some other kind of Upside-Down monster.
He explained the rough stuff, leaving out the whole not-actually-being-Steve-Harrington deal because he didn’t think he could unpack that quite yet. For all intents and purposes, he was still he/him guy man dude Steve, but there was no denying the body in the closet, so to speak. There was an entire life he’d thrown away for another, and while he loved who he was and all he’d become, he still had to deal with whatever it was that was hidden underneath it all. However, to his surprise, Robin was less bothered that he was a girl than she was his whole “former experiment that came from the same lab as El” thing.
“You just… didn’t feel like telling us that you’re like her?” Robin asked, still freaked out but genuine.
“Well, I’m not like her. She can do crazy shit. I can just change the way I look.” He said simply. “El never met me and I never met her when were there, and even if we did meet, I don’t think she’d remember me. I always looked different.”
“You have to realize how crazy this is to swallow, Steve.” Robin said, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. “This is like… unbelievable. I feel like I don’t- like I don’t know you.”
“You do though. I’m not different. I’ve been Steve since I was, like, ten.” He replied, feeling sick all of the sudden. He changed back into himself to try and make her feel more comfortable, but Robin only scooted further away. “Listen. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy to take in and I’m sorry I’ve kept this hidden from you, but you have to understand why it’s a secret. I can’t just… tell people.”
“You could tell me though.”
Steve wilted even more. “I’m sorry Robs. I haven’t been like, lying to you or anything. I’m still me. This is me. I’m still Steve, you know. I’ll always be Steve. I’m just... trying to be real with you. Sorry about Tammy.”
Robin shook her head and came closer, taking Steve’s hand in hers with an air of uncertainty. “I don’t give a fuck about that, dingus. I’m just processing, I’m sorry. I’m glad you said something. Seriously.”
Things were better after that, even if it was a little rocky right after. There was something special about sharing a secret with one another that made Steve feel free in a way that he didn’t think he could ever feel. He knew that Robin deserved to know everything and that she wanted to know everything, but Steve still wasn’t sure what to talk about. He’d tried to be Nine with her a couple more times, and few other times she and him messed around with Nine-Steve hybrids. Nine with Steve’s styled hair, Steve with Nine’s long hair. Once, they even tried Nine’s entire head on Steve’s body (he became so overwhelmed that he passed out).
He wasn’t going to tell Jonathan and Nancy. Not yet. He was still finding himself despite all this time, and while messing around with things in his bedroom was all fun and games, he had other things to care about also. The kids were all fledgling high schoolers now, and while he was still looking to fly the nest sometime soon, he figured sticking out his job a few more months to make some extra cash would be smart. He also knew that El deserved to know about him, even if that was hard to deal with, it was what she deserved. Maybe, somehow, it might even make him feel more connected to his past life.
He knew that he had to make peace with the guilt of taking over another’s life. There’s been so much loss, so much pain, so much unknown, but that remains the most difficult thing to swallow. His mom and dad have moved on, the world doesn’t even know, but he mourns it. He mourns the boy who might’ve been him once, before this scrawny little thing came in and stole it away while he died in the night all alone. That boy didn’t have very good parents, nor did he have a very good best friend, but that was much more than Steve ever had. Someday he might come to terms with the life he stole for his own, but for now, he lets the guilt stay buried deep.
Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin all sat around the fire, chatting about this and that. Nancy got this big fancy job at some local newspaper that liked her samples despite her lack of degree, and of course she jumped right into it. Jonathan had a steady gig at a trendy little record shop that he already loathed despite the cool people he’d managed to meet while they were browsing the British Alt Rock section. Robin’s new girlfriend is a painting major, so she’d gone a little rant about how acrylic paints actually can stain things despite what anyone tells you. Steve listened and sipped his spiked punch slowly, taking in the fire and the way his close friends were catching up. In his exhausting life, he’d grown to appreciate the little things that someone might miss if they’re moving too fast.
The road was long before him, but for the first time since he was ten, he felt ready for the trip ahead.