¹𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆,𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 ✔

015-flickering lights

"STEVE, I'M SORRY BUT YOU NEED TO LEAVE." CARLA DEMANDED, "RIGHT NOW."

"No—I'm not trying to start anything, okay?" Steve clarified, looking at his ex with a pleading expression. He just wanted to apologize, to talk. To restart.  The Wheeler opened her mouth to usher him away again, but he cut her off, "No, no, listen....I—I......I messed up, okay? I messed up—I messed up." He slammed his fist against the door frame as he stammered over his words. "Okay? Really. Please." He looked at her pleadingly, "I just want to make things right.  Okay? Please."

Maybe it was the way he was asking politely and with such desperateness that Carla had to believe him, or his stupid eyes scanning through hers—almost forcing her to let him inside the house—that caused Carla the urge to just forgive her ex for his actions and to help him, to let him apologize.  To just let them restart.

But Steve couldn't be here right now. With his terrible timing, he'd managed to walk in to a war and unlike yesterday in her garage where they brushed off their weapon practice as baseball practice, it would be rather difficult to explain the nail bat, the guns, and the Christmas lights.  He had to get out.

 So, she summoned up all that she could to deny the boy entrance into the house, "Steve, now's not the time. Just go back home, okay? Please—"

Steve opened his mouth to beg once more but closed it as his eyes caught hold of her bandaged hand, eyes growing in concern at the sight—that wasn't the same hand that had punched him.  "What happened to your hand?" As if nothing had ever happened, the boy grabbed hold of the Wheeler's bandaged hand to examine it, Carla pulling her hand away at once. "Is that blood?"

"Nothing." Carla looks to her side to see Nancy, the girl looking at her boyfriend. "It was an accident."

Steve didn't buy her words, given the two wore identical bandages in identical places.  It was odd if something happened that caused such matching wounds on accident. "Yeah, what happened?"

"Nothing."

Carla pressed on, "Accident, like she said."

"Wait a sec, did he do this to you guys?" the Harrington asked. 

"What? No!" Carla exclaims, knowing that by he, Steve meant Jonathan. "Steve, no!"

"Nancy, let me in!"

"No, no, no, Steve!"

"Let me in—"

It isn't too difficult for the Harrington boy to shove past the two Wheelers and into the house, eyes wide and a look of shock on his face the moment he enters the shabby place.  At first the light and letters confuse his mind, but then he's looking at the nail-bat beside Jonathan, as well as the countless other weapons aimlessly lying around the house.

"What is....What the....." Steve doesn't even know what to say as he looks around the house.

Jonathan rushes over to the boy, placing an arm on his shoulder to shove him back towards the door, "You need to get out of here."

"Whoa. What is all—"

"Listen to me. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, get out of here!"

"What is that smell? Is that—is that gasoline?" the Harrington rambled, concerned as to what was happening.  He was concerned for Nancy, concerned for Carla and was definitely worried as to what they were doing with the Byers' home when it was in such condition.