✓ Adventures In Babysitting / Steve Harrington ¹

𝙞𝙞𝙞. the junkyard

"Steve Harrington?"

"No, a different Steve.  My dear brother thought it was better if we just let Hawkins be terrorized by another Demogorgon," Alex responds with sarcasm laced in her voice.  "Yes, of course it's Steve Harrington."

"Wait, and you said Abby's there?  Like Abby as in the Abby Foster that you—"

"Just be there, stat," Dustin interrupts quickly.  "Over and out."

"All right, let's go!" Steve calls.

They walk in silence for a long time.  There's a soft serenity to the forest, a few birds chip, and leaves crunch beneath their feet as they walk along the old, long-abandoned train tracks.  They've long since been overtaken by brambles and bushes, occasionally they'll stumble upon a plant spreading in between the pipes of wood that hold the tracks together.  Once, Abby had strayed into the woods and had stumbled across the old train tracks.  She had run alongside them the entirety of the day, determined to follow them out of Hawkins, but the town had always had a funny way of keeping those who didn't belong outside within its limits.  Now, though, the tracks are being sprinkled with chunks of raw, pink meat.

She walks alongside Alex as Steve and Dustin trail some distance behind them, their conversation has faded into the distance and reaches deaf ears as the distance between the girls and the boys grows greater.  Abby has gotten lost in the scenery, captivated by the trees despite the monotony of them.  Alex doesn't seem to be enjoying the scenery as much as Abby is.  There's a forlorn expression on her face, she seems a little dazed and her eyes are a little glassy.

"Hey," Abby nudges Alex, snapping the girl out of her trance-like state.  "Are you okay, kid?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I was?" Alex asks.

"Look, we just met, I'm not expecting you to open up to me," Abby tells her with a soft smile, "but it's completely fine to not be okay.  You don't have to hide it."

Alex shrugs.  "It's just that ... we're hunting one of the things that killed one of the only people who understands what it feels like to get so mad that you've managed to hurt someone.  And it was nice.  I mean, the boys are great and all, but they still tread on egg shells around me from time to time still.  And, well ... she's gone now, and doing this ... it only reminds me that she's not here anymore."  She wipes away a stray tear, her face tinged peony pink.  "Sorry, for getting all wishy-washy on you like that.  Kyra-the-Counselor says it's good to try and connect with people—but I just dumped all my problems on you."

It's surreal to see Alex Harrington like this.  Vulnerable.  Open.  She's only ever been known for her uncontrollable rage, her guarded emotions, and the scars and black eyes that she collected like trophies.  She's only ever been depicted as somebody to avoid and be terrified because of her spiteful rage.  Nobody has ever attempted to look past the surface and the raw emotions beneath the bubbling anger.  

"Hey, don't worry about it," Abby assures her with a small smile.  "You just have to let it out sometimes."

Alex nods.  "Yeah, it's hard sometimes.  I can't really always tell the boys or Steve how I'm feeling because then they get all weird and act like I'm fragile.  Because girls are like a different species to them or something."

They walk in silence for a few more moments, and then: "Hey, Abby, why are you here?"

Abby lets out a small laugh.  "Well, as you know, the curly-haired shitwad decided it that it was a good idea to house a baby Demogorgon of all things.  I happened to show up just when he was luring it out of the house.  It was a, uh, wrong place, wrong time kind of thing."