𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝︱steve harrington

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏. love is patient, love is kind.

His trembling fingers curled around the handle. Flashes of thunder would flicker through the window and illuminate the stone-cold expression crossing his face. Elijah refused to give that thing a second chance to come back and kill him. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

The door of his bedroom opened with an even louder creak. It must have been drawn to the sound as Elijah takes a few steps forward and watches in the split second of horror it takes to realize it wasn't even a foot away from him, could take a bite out of him at any second, drag him to the Upside Down -

He swung the bat without thinking.

It cracks against the wall as Nevaeh ducked with a shout of surprise, her arms crossing to shield her head.

Elijah realized what he's done as it slowly processed before him and sunk in. He snaps out of whatever daze he was in. His hands were clenched so tight that they started to shake before loosening and dropping the weapon completely. It clatters against the floor. A few minutes must have passed by as the two locked horrified eyes.

Nevaeh was just using the bathroom. She must not have been able to sleep. And Elijah nearly crushed her skull because he thought she was the Demogorgon returning.

He had to close his eyes when tears start to burn. Panic and something much more awful formed. Elijah could barely stammer out, "I'm - I - I'm so, sor-sorry," seconds before he burst into sobs. He didn't know if it's because the adrenaline of fear died down or that he nearly killed Nevaeh. Maybe it was both. But Elijah can't stop the storm.

Nevaeh didn't speak. Elijah had a hunch she can't. She was so shaken up that he feels her arms trembling when she draped them around his shoulders wordlessly. He falls apart in the forgiving embrace he didn't deserve.

That night, sobbing into Nevaeh's shoulder with the fear of the Demogorgon and the fact that he nearly killed his sister, Elijah has no choice but to face the truth: that there was sincerely something wrong with him. He was one fucked up individual. He could blame that on the mental stability.

The tension doesn't fade the next morning or the one after. It's not that Nevaeh hasn't forgiven her brother. She's told him so, reassured him again and again that it was an accident, and she knows he'd never do anything to harm her. It's that Elijah hadn't forgiven himself.

He can't. Elijah can't possibly just let it go as she did.

The cereal tastes like cement, heavy, nasty, and difficult to chew as it rests on Elijah's tongue. It's hard to choke down and he wants to spit it out. The milk and plain, circled pieces of food would spew across the table with the words I'm so sorry all over again even though it was over. He'll never do it again. He already hid the baseball bat in a closet so he wouldn't have to try and grab it the next time he was afraid. The real challenge was hiding the hole in the wall from Tobia with a framed family picture and then would come when Elijah would be ready to forgive himself.

"You used to tell me the stars have stories." Elijah slowly lifts his head at Nevaeh's word. She speaks quietly, unbothered, dragging a spoon through her oatmeal. The smoke from the hot breakfast caresses her already flushed cheeks and warms them further. "You would tell me them too before I went to bed. I'd get so excited." Nevaeh smiled so her pink cheeks looked full. She mimics the sweet, childlike tone she used to have, "Eli, tell me about the stars. I want to know more about the stars."

Elijah can physically feel his stomach churn. He forcefully swallows the cereal that turns into a heavy lump in the midst of his throat. "Nevaeh - "