Steve Harrington wishes he was dead. He's standing in quicksand, and the sandy laced fairies from underneath have ahold of his feet—they pull him down, down, down. Till he can't breathe. Can't see. Can't feel. His life is over; ruined. He has a crinkled note in his stressed hands, and there's a child in his mother's arms. They're standing in the Italian based kitchen. Candy gently bounces the small brunette girl on her defined hip.
Steve stares at the child like he's never seen one before.
Her cheeks are bitten red and glossy with tears. Her fingers push between her wet lips as she whimpers. She looks sad.
Steve Harrington had never seen his mother so caring before.
"Steve, I asked what you're going to do?"
His throat suddenly feels all too dry. Like he's eaten cotton balls to remain the skinniest on the swim team. (It wouldn't be the first time) (You can move quicker like this..) His honey, chocolate eyes gloss over and he wishes he could take a large kitchen knife and— "Steve?"
"I-I don't know!" His voice booms and the child gasps and nearly cries again. Candy shushes her, soft and sweet. "I can't keep her. Like is she even mine? That kid looks nothing l-like me!"
Candy glares, "don't be stupid. She's yours. It's in the note, Violet Harrington."
Steve's jaw hardens, "it's not mine! Lowen was fucking crazy! She's probably punishing me for whatever crazy reason she believes is true!"
Candy gawks at her son, "you sound crazy!" It's more of a whisper yell.
"Mom, I'm not keeping the kid. I haven't even graduated yet! I'll drop it off at the station or something—I'll do it all before dad gets home tomorrow night."
Candy's lips part, but she doesn't say anything. Her eyes gaze back on the sweet babygirl with Steve's eyes, hair, and lips. She does look like him. "You are not giving her up. The system is awful."
Steve nearly chokes on nothing. "What?"
Candy looks back at her son, who she wishes wasn't her son. "Don't be dense, Steve. You are keeping this baby. She's your responsibility—"
