Although the sun had yet to creep its way out over campus, a family of sparrows chirped the arrival of the morning through the open window of Billy and Steve's second floor apartment. The noise, however, failed to beat out KISS blasting through the Walkman headphones over Tatum's ears.
Propped on the arm of a cushy brown chair, she leaned down to the open gap and blew out a furl of cigarette smoke. The side of her right hand was dusted in charcoal, two pencils already dead on the living room table from consistent use on the sketchpad balanced on her lap. The left hand held a half spent cigarette, her third of the night after several failed attempts to fall asleep on the sofa.
The bags under her eyes weighed heavy as she tracked the forming features of Zharkov's face on her page. A fearful gaze watched her back, his slacked mouth earning a final shading to show the sweat running down his cupid's bow.
"You...you tricked me? You wanted this?"
"We wanted a way out. So we found one and guided you to it."
The ghost of the pistol she could still feel gripped in her hand lingered at the edge of the image, the barrel aimed at his forehead.
"How does it feel?"
"How does what feel?"
"To have everything you've ever cared about taken away."
Tate flinched as a gunshot rang out over the music and dropped the sketchpad onto her lap. A reflexive hand shot up and swatted the headphones off of her head. She took in a deep breath, the soft chirp of birds flowing in from the window.
A piece of silverware clinked against a bowl in the kitchen as the Walkman hit the floor.
Her head swiveled hard to the left and she locked eyes with Steve hovering on the other side of the island counter, his brows slightly raised as he chewed like an animal spotted in the wild.
"Morning," he said gently, swirling his spoon around in the bowl and shifting his expression on a dime.
She cleared her throat and snapped her sketchbook shut before she slid off of the chair to grab the headphones off the ground. "Is it?"
The real feat was the lit cigarette still in her hand and not a thing was burned.
Steve flipped over his wrist as he checked his watch. "Little after six," he replied. He poked a thumb behind himself. "Coffee?"
Tate set the headphones over her sketchpad and snubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the table. She stretched her back and sighed before she walked towards the kitchen. "Absolutely."
He pulled down a mug from the cupboard and set it beside the fresh pot before returning to his own, it nearly drained.
"How long have you been up?" she asked with furrowed brows as she poured out the dark liquid into her cup.
He hummed a little and shrugged. "Fifteen minutes or so." He caught her frown as he shoveled a spoon of fruit loops into his mouth. He chewed quickly and nodded his head towards the living room. "You were into it. I didn't want to disturb."
I wish you had. Tate poured slightly too much creamer into her coffee before she rested her elbows on the counter beside him. Billy's door was just ahead of her and slightly cracked, but there were no signs of movement inside. "You sleep okay?" she asked before taking her first sip.
"Yeah, but I think the bed at the safe house was comfier than mine," he replied with a sigh. His eyes flickered over to her as he drained his mug. "Did you sleep at all?"
She shook her head, eyes still set forward. "Not a wink."
Steve couldn't help but glance at her face, the exhaustion evident and clearly defined as she finished off the first mug of coffee and turned to pour another. She didn't sleep on the drive in, either, he thought.
Overwhelmed by the desire not to be asked about sleep habits that confused even her, Tate took her new cup of coffee into the living room. "Do you have a morning class?" she asked as she lowered herself onto the far end of the sofa.
He hummed in agreement, lingering at the counter before he joined her on the other end. "It's always just workouts but I still get credit. I've still got a little bit before I have to head out, though."
"Are you liking it here so far?" She tucked her legs into a criss-cross, angled towards Steve with a full cushion between them.
He glanced from her red sweater to his athletic t-shirt that nearly matched her design. "IU? Oh, dude it's been great," he replied earnestly. "It was weird coming in at the second semester, but I love it so far."
The corners of her mouth curved upward as a soft sparkle crossed Steve's eyes. "That makes me so happy."
"It's close enough to still see the kids and hang out with Robin, I've always got a place to crash in Hawkins but I don't actually have to stay there." He hesitated, eyes flickering away for a moment. "It's not that...I mean, uh." He cleared his throat, an absent hand pushing alongside his hair. "The town just got...weird after everything with Starcourt. There were news crews everywhere and they claimed that the mall collapsed from faulty building, and that's why all those people went missing. Like they got trapped with you and Hop."
"Owens?" she asked with a raised brow, icy hands wrapped around the mug balanced in her lap.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Did he...show up? That night?" She watched the surface of her coffee ripple with the sound of her voice. "Hopper tried calling him...before."
Steve nodded, his own eyes set on the open window behind her. "Like right after. Right after. Vehicles were coming in for a fight when I drove down from the hill, but you'd already taken care of it."
"We all took care of it."
"I was just sitting by a radio."
Tate's eyes lifted. "Steve."
"I..." He tracked a sparrow bouncing on a tree branch just outside. The distant whir of helicopters swooping in overhead sent a shiver down his spine. "I should've been there."
"Please, don't say that." Tate set her mug aside on the table but still failed to earn Steve's gaze. "I'm glad you weren't, that you didn't have to see it."
Brown eyes finally lifted and locked onto gray. "But I didn't see you at all. You were just gone, Tate. There...there was so much blood left but they'd already taken you away. I...I didn't even believe them at first."
Goosebumps ran up her arms as she tucked them to her chest, her sweater doing little to help the freeze etching throughout her body.
"The kids..." He sighed as he set his bowl on the coffee table and shook his head. "They couldn't even talk about it. Dustin started apologizing the second he saw me, but he couldn't say it. I...I was looking for you, but you weren't...I didn't understand until I saw Nina and Billy, without you."
Tate reached out, a tear slipping down her cheek as her hand connected with his. "I'm here, Steve. Despite what happened, I'm here."
He took a deep breath in against the ache in his chest and put his other hand over hers just to make sure. "Shit, I missed you so much," he said with a shaky laugh.
"I missed you too, Harrington." She finally released his hand to wipe underneath her eyes. She shook her head, an absent glance going towards the sketchbook on the table. "I keep telling everyone the rest of it doesn't matter, but I should probably try to remember that myself."
"You lost a lot of good friends?" Steve asked softly.
Gray eyes lingered on the sketchpad, and the words finally came out. "I killed a lot of people getting out of there."
When she turned to Steve, his eyes were already locked onto her.
His lips parted and closed, then opened again. "It was their mistake putting you there in the first place," he replied with a gentle shrug. "They should've known that from you busting into their operation under the mall. They were idiots for even trying."
A blanket of fear slipped away, a soft smile growing instead. To her own surprise, she hated herself a little less.
"You saved my life twice that day." He sighed and let his eyes wander, but only for his own light smile to appear as he looked back. "You really used some of your last words to make sure I knew you were a better babysitter than me?"
A startled laugh left her lips. That night was beyond fuzzy, but she did, didn't she? She covered her mouth but the laugh continued. "I'm so sorry."
The corners of his mouth finally cracked into a decent grin. "Bleeding out on the fucking floor and you just had to add that?"
"Would you have preferred, 'You scratch Jolene and your ass is grass' to be my last words to you?"
Steve shook his head through a laugh. "I'm not sure which is worse."
Tate shrugged with a soft grin. "Now I can just haunt everyone in person."
"Lucky us," he replied, gaze stuck on her smile. He winced after a moment. "And I definitely dinged the Jeep."
Her mouth gaped. "Steve!"
"We were on a mission!" he defended in the same tone. "I'm sure whatever paint job Jolene's getting will cover it." He ruffled his hair absently. "Let's call it even, then."
Her brow rose. "Car speaker?" She held out her hand when he nodded.
"For Jolene." He took her hand and shook it like his father closing a business deal, the two busting out in a laugh when they finally let go. He flipped over his watch and sighed before rising from the couch. "I've gotta get to the sports complex, but I'll think of some places you might want to check out while you're here."
Tate leaned back into the sofa as Steve dropped his bowl off in the sink and disappeared into his room. The chill that had come over her earlier had melted with Steve's first smile, but she still held her arms around herself.
It was their mistake putting you there in the first place.
"What are you going to do today?" Steve asked as he resurfaced, slipping an IU lanyard with a student ID and a couple keys clipped to the end over his head. Although he grabbed his backpack from a kitchen barstool, his attention was set on Tate as he put one strap over his shoulder.
"Uh..." She shrugged gently. "I don't know, it's the first day I've really had to myself."
She didn't think she'd get this far.
Steve lingered in front of the door and nodded. "You'll have to make it a good one, then." He reached for the doorknob but looked back before he could open it all the way open. "I'll...see you later?"
Tate's lips curved into a grin. "You will."
He laughed a little, taking just another moment to himself before stepping outside and letting the door shut between them.
Left alone in the apartment streaked with morning sun, Tate let the quiet sink back in. Her eyes fell on the sketchpad that had been her only companion all night, but there was no desire to pick it up.
"Tatum, don't make this worse for yourself."
Although Zharkov's words had been delivered with a much different purpose, she decided to listen to them.
She picked up the Walkman on top but forgoed the sketchpad entirely and rose from the couch. Taking a note out of their driver's book, she clicked the mixtape back on and let Billy Idol's Rebel Yell filter through the system. She took her mug back to the kitchen and refilled it for the third time, practically able to feel the bags under her eyes indent further as she grappled with the coffee pot.
She wanted to sleep. Something deep down just kept telling her not to. Not yet.
What she was waiting for, she had no clue.
Mom.
Mom.
Maybe one clue.
Warmth seeped over her hand and her eyes snapped down to her mug. "Shit," she murmured, yanking her coffee soaked hand away as the other tilted the pot back upright, dark brown liquid still rippling in waves over the edges. She slid the pot back onto the machine and hesitated, an anxious thumb beating in her throat as she panned the kitchen for something to clean up with.
Before a search could begin, a hand appeared far on her left and slid open a bottom drawer.
Tate pushed the Walkman headset down around her neck, the rhythmic beats replaced by distant birds calling through the living room window. "Hi, sorry."
"You're all right." Billy, eyes still puffy from sleep, grabbed two towels from the cabinet and a second mug from the cabinet above. He stopped just beside her and kissed her cheek before he picked up her finally settled, but brimmed coffee cup and poured a third of it into the new one. "You didn't sleep, did you?" He wiped off her mug and set it in front of her, and handed her the second towel before using his to blot the spilt coffee on the counter.
She shook her head and she wiped off her hand, an absent moment of chewing on the inside of her lip delaying her response. Did she know how to explain it? She turned to open the fridge. "No."
"Four days?" Billy set the soaked towel into the sink before he picked up the empty coffee pot and filled the second mug.
Or was it five? "I..." Tate rested her hip against the counter once she'd dug the creamer out yet again. "I'm honestly not sure." Her teeth bared down on her bottom lip absently but it only rested in another shake of her head. "I've lost track," she told him as she poured in white liquid back to the top but kept a careful eye on it. "I barely slept there, anyway."
Billy tucked a wave of her hair behind her ear when she finally turned to him, a soft frown evident. "Should we get you something to help you sleep?"
Although her body begged for something to put her under, she paused with her mouth slight slacked. She panned sweet, blue eyes that couldn't hide their concern. "We probably should."
We. She liked the sound of that. The not yet clinging to her, however, made her stomach turn.
"You missed Steve," she told him, desperate to swap topics. "He just left."
"Did you two get to talk?" Billy asked as he leaned back against the counter opposite of her.
Tatum nodded, mirroring his stance and sipping on her coffee for a moment. "Yeah, it was good chat. A much needed one."
"You guys were really close, huh?"
Her lips parted, but curved into a quiet smile as a younger version of herself ran through the Hawkins junkyard, she and Steve swinging for dear life at the demodogs to keep them away from the kids. She could still recall the bag of frozen peas stuck to Steve's black eye as he waited for her to wake up in the cabin, despite the fact it was her boyfriend who'd given him the shiner. There was no hesitation in abandoning her plans in the Starcourt base when she discovered Steve had found his way down there, and getting him out safely wasn't just an option, it had to happen.
"We...went through a lot together," she finally replied. "Marty's back home was our place. Babysitter's club was a must. We saw..." A soft laugh came as she shook her head, "a lot of shit that nobody else did, so we'd get dinner and talk about it, and anything else, I guess." She sighed. "I wish I hadn't let it fall away last summer, but everyone was working and then Ben...and-"
"Me," he added, his expression unmoving except for a slight raise of his brow.
Her eyes lingered on his, the answer undoubtedly yes. "You two clearly aren't in the same place you were then," she said with a light gesture around with her finger. "You two couldn't even be in the same room."
"That fell away pretty fast after the mall."
"Did he ever tell you about what happened in the mall, but before I...?" She cleared her throat and set her mug aside on the counter.
Billy didn't let her suffer in the pause. "Him and Robin down in the base? Yeah, a little bit. He said they got captured and you were already down there."
She nodded, tucking her arms absently across her chest. "I was trying to figure out what was going on with Ben, but Dustin picked up a Russian transmission and dug a little too deep. If I'd actually kept up with Steve last summer we all could've been on the same page, but..." A soft sigh escaped her lips. "It doesn't really matter now. I got them and Ben out of the base, but it didn't take long until shit got worse. Steve, Dustin and Ben met us at the mall before you got there. Steve was too beat up to stay in the fight, that's why he was on the hill when..."
Although Billy blinked calmly, there was something else there.
"He..." Tate shook her head. "He said that he wished he'd been there, when I died. But I told him I'm glad he wasn't."
"I told him the same thing," he replied before taking a light sip from his mug.
Her gaze had wandered off to the sunbeams breaking through the living room windows, but her brows furrowed. "He thinks about it a lot?"
"Oh, I'm sure," Billy said between another sip and raised up from his lean against the counter. He drained the mug and rinsed it out in the sink, eyes absently stuck on the chipping backsplash on the kitchen wall.
"Do you think you'll ever be able to love anyone else?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Me either."
He set the mug upside down in the sink, the words lingering on his lips caught before they could make it out. "You know he..."
Tate's eyes flickered back from the window. "He what?" Her brows furrowed at the shift in his shoulders and the passive glance towards Steve's room.
Billy's tongue clicked as he failed again and shook his head. He rested his palms against the lip of the sink.
You know he's in love with you, right?
Old him would have told her already, would have used it as some kind of tactic back then. Old him saw it as leverage.
New him didn't want to hurt his best friend by revealing his biggest vulnerability - one that they shared: Tatum. Not when he could clock every second glance when Billy touched her in Steve's line of sight.
Billy had known from afar for months, but Steve kept it to himself the best he could, until he couldn't, and then they never talked about it again. Billy was fine with not acknowledging it then.
But things had changed since October. They'd changed since last week.
Tate was here now.
Billy panned curious gray eyes, her body turned to face him in the slim kitchen. "He just needed to get out of Hawkins," he told her.
Her inquisitive brows fell away, a smile soon replacing it. "He seems happy here."
He tucked a wave of her hair behind her ear with a smile. He thought of the corner market across from his preferred breakfast spot, where they could grab something to help Tate sleep.
Before he got the chance to ask if she was hungry, the apartment phone rattled off between the fridge and the front door.
"He was miserable seeing your house everyday," Billy told her, running a hand along her back as he passed beside her. Close enough, he thought before pulling the receiver off the dial. "Hello?"
Tate stole Billy's spot against the island counter as he frowned into the phone and spoke with a tone that didn't match. She blinked, holding off a frown of her own as it reminded her of something.
"It's not a problem," Billy said to the person on the other end of the line, adding the flare of a feigned smile. "I'll be there." The smile slid away as he hung up and turned to Tate. "I'm sorry, Ralph's been short."
"Please don't apologize." She held out her arms, quick to be swept up by Billy in a tight hug.
He breathed out as he squeezed, only to freeze entirely. His eyes widened. "Am I hurting you?"
"I..." Tate's eyes narrowed as she was carefully set back down on the ground, the familiar burning pain in her abdomen no longer under her skin. "No, I feel...fine?"
Billy's furrowed brows matched hers. "You do?"
She felt over her side where Zharkov's boot had surely indented - she'd seen it on scans, even. But when she pressed down, she didn't hurt. Her head snapped back up, a look of disbelief in her eyes as she met the same expression on Billy. "Owens said it would take weeks."
He tilted her chin up, his thumb lightly brushing her bottom lip. "This looks better, too. You couldn't tell it was split."
Tate's brows stayed drawn in, running an absent finger over the same spot without stirring any discomfort. "Strange," she murmured. She wanted to lift her sweater to see if the deep bruising was still printed out like a story on her stomach, but other scars kept her from doing so.
"We'll add it to the list." Billy leaned in to kiss her on the cheek before he headed for his room. "Would you want to walk with me? You don't have to but it could get you a better picture of campus."
Tate hummed as she rounded the counter and followed into his bedroom, first met with the bare curves of his back as he buttoned up the pair of jeans he'd just slipped on. "Yeah," her eyes lingered on the soft dimples on his lower back, "sounds fun."
Billy turned over his shoulder, just barely catching the snap of her eyes back up to his. He tried to hold off a grin as he tugged a Guns 'N Roses t-shirt over his head - some things had changed about Tate, but that look hadn't.
He really hated Ralph for calling him in.
She swallowed, cheeks starting to burn as his eyes stayed on hers. She bit her lip and fixed the collar of a dark flannel he'd slipped on, soft zaps running up her fingers when they connected with skin. "How late are you working?" The awareness they did have to leave finally prompted her to take a step back, gently clearing her throat as she moved to her bag on the other side of the bed and fished out a pair of sweatpants.
"Just 'til noon, then I have a class at one," Billy told her before lacing up his sneakers. "I'm yours by four."
Tate grinned. "You're mine regardless."
||
Despite her shoes and sweatpants being borrowed - and expectedly owned - items from the state, the same Tatum that was denied a future at Indiana University was walking around its campus in her beloved sweater among its students in the mid-morning sun.
For once, her ears had buzzed out out of pure wonder.
The pockets of students talking over each other didn't get under her skin and their proximity was balanced only by her ability to slip through alone and cross the stone pathways with ease. She'd thought she would've wanted the Walkman with her, but she and Billy were out of the apartment quickly before they couldn't make it out at all and it had been left behind.
Ralph's wasn't open when she dropped Billy off just shy of the Campus Strip so she still had to wait to start a new tape curation of her own. Somewhere in her sketchbook she'd started a list of the tapes she could remember owning. If she was sure of one thing, Ben returned the favor of hanging on to all of her music.
There were lots of things that were still there, coming more naturally as she breathed without the weight of constant eyes on her back, but there were still things missing.
More than she was willing to admit.
Freshly brewed coffee seeped under Tate's nose as she flowed out of a middle path onto an academic building strip. Across from the clay colored steps of a towering science wing sat a parked coffee cart opposing the school's colors with a warm yellow overhang and sign bearing Lou's.
Tate had enough caffeine in her to kill a small horse but hours between Billy's return and an attempt at sleep drew her to the back of a fast moving line. She hadn't gotten her hands on a proper wallet yet but she'd remembered to grab a bit of cash Owens had left her with before leaving the apartment.
Student conversations started to spill in as she watched the crowds move by in the crisp air that just barely hinted of spring. Whirs of an espresso machine pulled at the back of her head and brought her gaze back forward in time to step up to the front of the line. Gray eyes lingered on the neat, handwritten chalkboard menu propped up to the side.
"Do you do triple red eyes?" she asked, pushing down her accent the best she could this early in the morning.
Who she could only guess was Lou, wearing a matching yellow ball cap, rose his brows but reached down to pull a cup. "Heavy class schedule?" He emptied the espresso and punched a couple buttons.
"Shit sleep schedule," she countered, sliding over a dollar from her pocket before stuffing another into the tip jar. She waited for him to ask for a name, but it didn't come. She dropped the rest of the change inside as well and took her coffee over the counter.
A blonde dodged her as she turned, Tate's side step fast enough to get past her and rounded towards the back of the line.
Tatum wrapped her hand a little firmer around her to-go coffee, the sensation more prickly that soothing. She didn't have a set path in mind, but she hadn't seen the way she was headed, so she continued on.
A sharp whistled zapped in from behind her and her head tilted to the side on instinct, but she caught her footing without a break. She gave her shoulders a shake for anyone watching too closely.
"Ah, shit," a huffed voice apologized as a quick pair of feet stopped short just behind Tate, "sorry. I wasn't thinking about the ears."
Steve pushed back his hair, it's fluffiness questionable of if he'd taken a shower at the gym or not. He blew out a breath and fell in step beside her on the concrete walkway.
"It's all good." A grin pulled as she lowered her coffee. "Any trouble for missing class yet?" Tatum asked between sips.
He shrugged and huffed. "Not shit. I hate that Billy's been right so far," he replied and adjusted his backpack. He wiggled her hands towards her. "Give me some of that."
She passed off the coffee, it nearly to his mouth before she could let go. "You should kn-"
Steve's lips puckered and he pushed the drink back towards her. "What the hell is that? Did you order it-" he grimaced as he swallowed the last of it, "like that? On purpose?"
"Free sip just to shit on my coffee," Tate whined as she tucked both of her hands around the cup, nose scrunched as she glanced over.
"Shouldn't you be drinking cough syrup or something to put you out?" he asked with a raised brow.
"I..." Her mouth hung open to continue, but it closed after a moment. Not yet. "It's hard to explain."
Steve chuckled, more to himself than her. "Yeah. That's not surprising." He sighed, but it only resulted in a nod. "How about we go somewhere cooler than the Quad?"
Tate grinned. "Cooler than the Quad? I'm on the edge of my seat, Harrington."
He tipped his head to the side and guided them back towards the residential area. "I'll take you to my favorite place."
They made it back to the apartments, but diverted for Steve's car without making a stop inside. Tate's nose scrunched as she ran her hand over the busted speaker and the altered crackle that came from the smaller stereo wired into the cigarette lighter. She apologized two more times on the drive off campus before he reminded they were even. Even Steven, he'd kept saying, until she had to ask him to stop.
Steve wheeled into a wooded area not too far from IU boundaries and had to glance twice in Tate's direction before he paused. "Shit, I should've asked if you were feeling up for a bit of hike."
"I'm doing okay, actually," she replied, the answer genuine despite note entirely making sense to her. Another question for Owens.
She had a list for that in her sketchbook too, it added to daily.
His brows rose but he nodded all the same as he slid the BMW into a poorly marked parking spot at the base of a forest trail entry, the cars sparse around them. "Just let me know. I'm serious."
The pair climbed out of the car and stopped at the trunk so Steve could fish out two nylon sacks wrapped up tight. He slung one over each shoulder before leading onto the trail.
The trees were still struggling to grow their leaves. It was too early in the season, and most of them hung bare. Indiana trees grew tall and often close together to create a dense space even when not flourishing, but the cool breeze blowing through was a dream.
"I found this place on accident," Steve said over his shoulder, keeping a slow pace as they ascended the hilly path. "I was up here for a party but ended up wandering. It was even nicer when I woke up in the morning."
Tate could clock two men talking in the distance through struggled coughs, but they were far enough east that she was sure they wouldn't come across them. "Not on our King Steve shit, are we?"
"Passing out in random places isn't authentic enough for you?"
She hummed and tipped her head back and forth. "Okay, you make a good point."
"But parties are different here. This place is a hundred times bigger than Hawkins," he explained, using a few tree trunks to assist in the last big steps up to a semi-clearing. "You'll see," he added. He turned around and offered out a hand, pulling Tate up to level ground.
The quarry waters below couldn't be heard by Steve, but the smell carried in the morning breeze. The hill had crested until it cut down to a cliff face, one of many that surrounded the quarry.
Steve dropped one of the nylon sacks at his feet and opened the other. He pulled out two slotted straps and tossed the thin fabric to Tate before he headed for a tree he'd decided on before they even arrived. "You'd like the music a lot of the house parties play."
Tate grinned as she unfurled the deep orange fabric, it expanding tenfold from its original size. "You turned into a hammock guy, huh?"
"We would have been onto some shit if we used these in high school, T. I'm so serious," he told her, hanging from one of the straps with one hand to test the weight, the other pointed at her sharply. "They're life changing."
"Yeah we would've gotten held back, for sure. The woods behind the school? Forget it." Tate brought Steve the first hammock before she picked up the second one and started to open the bag it condensed down to.
Steve snapped the first carabiner into place and stretched the orange fabric out until it reached the other strapped and he secured the second one. He shrugged and leaned his weight down onto the hammock, draping himself over it at his waist. "It might not've been the worst thing. Some of my classes are giving me the feeling I'm going to feel way too stupid to be here pretty soon. It's all still early now."
Tate tossed him the second set of straps as he stood back up. "Hey, you worked to be here. You've got this." She unfurled an abundance of dark blue nylon and found the two carabiners, holding one in each hand until Steve finished weight testing the straps.
He took the second hammock and snapped it into place between the trio of trees he'd picked out. He blew a breath out and leaned back into the orange hammock. He suddenly lifted his feet up and tucked them in and let the canoed fabric swing as he sighed. "Let's talk about something elseee," he sang once his eyes squeezed shut, wrapped up like a caterpillar.
Tate slid down into the blue hammock, earning less of a swing as she shimmied off her shoes. She held down the side of the hammock facing Steve and rested her chin on the side. "Would you tell me something?"
He opened one of his eyes, a dramatic hand up to his forehead. "Anything."
Just ask. It's something you're missing.
"What was my funeral like?"
Steve's eye closed before they both opened slowly. "It, uh..." The softest laughed ended with a shake of his head. I said anything. "It was awful, honestly. The day, I mean. The service was beautiful. The kids even got Elena to play Queen for the end."
She let her head rest against the sturdy fabric, focused on Steve despite his gaze having wandered from her. A smile crept up. "That's big."
The corners of his mouth threatened to go, but they weren't quite ready. "She and Jordan flew back the night after. Owens called them from the mall." He frowned slightly. "It wasn't until the next Thursday that they had the service, though. The day seemed...random."
Tate's brows rose. "Oh, wow."
"Does that mean something?" Steve asked, finally tilting his head back to her.
"I was born on a Thursday. It...it was something my mum had asked for." She cleared her throat, lifting her head off the hammock. "To be buried on the same day of the week that she was born." She shrugged. "She never explained it. She was clear about wanting it, though. I never asked for it myself, but I didn't think...huh."
Steve nodded, his eyebrows drawn in ever so. "Huh."
Although she wasn't staring, he knew she wanted more.
"The ceremony was big, but the actual burial was just us," he told her. "It was a lot nicer. Quieter. We didn't have to pretend about what happened then. Nina...didn't really know what to do with herself, but Will gravitated towards her pretty fast." He ran a hand along his brow, his ability to maintain eye contact starting to fail. He relied on the swaying tree limbs to hold his focus. "The put you next to your mom, actually. The spot's really pretty in the fall." He blew a loose curl from his forehead. "They did a thing at the high school, too. It's still up." He framed a rectangle in the air. "A memorial board near the trophy cases because they grouped everyone into the mall collapse."
In Memoriam: July 4th, 1985
Tate let out a sigh as she let her head fall back down. "Happy Independence Day."
Steve scoffed and shook his head. He tracked the clouds passing overhead and cupped his hands behind his head.
For weeks he could barely get outside without spotting a news van parked somewhere on their street. They were never discreet about it, either. A major mall collapse was enough to draw a crowd, and on a national holiday? As soon as Jordan's name was attached, it went global. It took the Rivers leaving Hawkins for it to slow down, but even then it was another month until Steve could make it to work at the video store and back without seeing a camera.
That house haunted him once it was empty, but there was something about it that was always asking him to come in. He stopped looking after it after a while. It kept looking back, even from home sometimes.
"Do you miss Hawkins?"
A deep sigh left Tate as she dropped the steady gaze on the rippling fabric of the hammocks. "Every day. Which is," a smile worked it's way up, "so different from the Tatum who moved there." Her fingers fidgted with the blue nylon. "I was born in Hawkins but I don't really remember being there as a kid. England was everything to me, even though I missed my mum." She shrugged gently. "I've only ever had American passports, though."
Steve frowned and lifted his head over the side of the hammock. "Wait, really?"
She hummed with an earnest nod. "The accent's confusing, I know. I'm sure it started out American but I moved so early on that it changed." The wind caught wave of her hair but she batted it back. "I think I have to start supressing it once I get to New York. I tried earlier but I don't know how well it went over."
His brows rose, then wiggled. "Full American Tatum, the final form."
Tate grinned and shook her head. "She's got to have a new name, though," she said as she pushed all her hair to one side to keep it from flying, it's length still startling at times. "Everyone else but me got new ID. Owens it waiting for it."
"Any ideas?" Steve asked as he mirrored her earlier stance over the side of the hammock.
"I'm worried if I make it too meaningful, then it'll lead back to my real identity anyway. But I also need to like it as a name if it's going to be mine from now on."
Steve hummed gently, the breeze rocking both of their hammocks. "What about Lake?"
"Lake?"
"Like Rivers, so you have piece of you without being obvious."
"Lake," she repeated. She wiggled her brows, a soft smile growing. "That's not bad."
He blew out a short breath. "Tate. Taylor?" His nose scrunched as he offered it out. "Lake Taylor?" He let out a laugh as he shrugged. "I don't know."
The smile stuck as she looked back to the swaying trees overhead. "No, it's good. It's not obvious, but I'm still there if you look. Sounds like a place. I could dig it." She shut her eyes as a stronger pass of wind shuffled through the thin fabric of their hammocks, her smile growing even more so. "I think the trees agree," she said with a laugh, finally lifting her head.
When she looked back to Steve, his eyes were already on her.
"What is it?" she asked.
His eyes dashed behind her for a moment. "Sorry, I..." He waved a hand above and around them, and then to her. "I've...I've had this conversation a dozen times with you before and it's..." His sigh tried to melt into a laugh, but it came out almost frustrated. "I'm still not entirely sure I'm not hallucinating, Tate."
A smile crept onto her lips. "Lake."
The tightness in his face faded and he shook his head, unable to stop a grin. "Uh-huh. Still annoying."
"I mean, I have heard that your dealer in Hawkins is good," she offered.
"Who, Eddie?" Steve waved an absent hand. "Nah, his dealer's good."
Tate held out her hand in a rigid, business-like form. "To Lake."
Despite the opposite swing of their hammocks, Steve locked his hand in hers. Their swing steadied out in tandem and their hands slid up to their knuckles and then swooped into a butterfly motion. They knocked fists high, then low, and landed back in a handshake before they shook on it hard and bumped knuckles.
"To Lake."