Archive of Our Own ^beta

Max sat in front of the new headstone. It was shiny, untainted by years of dirt build up and overgrown grass like the ones next to it. Fresh bouquets of flowers sat at the foot of it, and she could recognize who had left each one. The days leading up to now, she'd watched from afar as Robin, Nancy, Lucas, even El and Will had come by, leaving their flowers for the dead. She hadn't, though. She couldn't. 

"Hi, Steve," she said, trying to smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. "I don't know if you can see me, or even hear me right now, but I hope you can. I'm sorry for not visiting sooner, I don't want you to think that I forgot about you. Things have just been...different and for a while I think we were all just trying to process what happened. But...- part of me was just scared. I tried coming out here yesterday, and the day before, but I couldn't. Every time I got close, I couldn't move, I couldn't speak or even breathe. I can't believe I'm even saying this, but god, I just wished that this was one of Vecna's creepy visions instead. I want it to be one because at least then I would know it was fake. And that eventually one of you guys would come and snap me out of it. Coming here meant I'd have to say goodbye, and I didn't want to say goodbye because I didn't want it to be real. I was so afraid of it being real, but it is, and I can't go back in time to change what happened, so I'm here now."

She stopped, taking a deep, shaking breath, and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I finally went back to school today. It's weird...without you, I mean. Eddie's cool and all, but he's not you. I know you graduated last year, before I could even go to school with you, but I guess I just got so used to you picking me up or dropping me off that not having you around makes things feel, incomplete? Sometimes I find myself waiting for your stupid car to roll up in the parking lot just to hear you lay on the horn until I come out, but...then I remember."

"Dustin hasn't come back yet. He hasn't even talked to us in a while. I'm not even sure he's left his house since the funeral. Lucas and I tried checking up on him over the walkies and we've stopped by his house a few times, but he never answers. His mom just tells us he doesn't want to see anyone and to come back later. He took it really hard, but I guess that makes sense. He worshipped you, I don't know if you knew that. Even when you weren't around he never stopped talking about how great you were. To be honest it was really annoying at first, but now I just miss his never ending rambling. I miss hearing him talk about you and whatever next dumb thing you two are up to. Every time someone says something about you it's always in past tense now, and it just makes everything hurt all over again."

"It's not just him though. You remember Eddie's Dio vest? The cool one with the art on the back of it? He hasn't worn it since that day. I went to his trailer to check on him a couple days after everything happened and found it crumpled in the far corner of his room. He told me that he couldn't get all the blood out of it, and that every time he tried to put it on, it just reminded him of you, and it was like reopening an old wound. He didn't have the heart to throw it away though, because it—well, it reminded him of you, ironic right? It's funny how that works."

"Robin blames herself for what happened. Everyone tries to tell her it wasn't her fault, but it's not enough. I think she has something called 'survivor's guilt'. I remember Ms. Kelly bringing that up during our sessions. She has nightmares about what happened. She hasn't told anyone, but I've been there before. I know that look she wears on her face everyday. When you feel guilty about surviving, or not doing enough, it just becomes so overwhelming. You forget to eat, you forget to shower and brush your teeth. How to breathe, and it feels like you're drowning. You forget how to do all the normal things you're supposed to do, like sleep. But when you do sleep, you don't dream, you just relive that same night over and over and over again, until you force yourself to stay awake because you're so scared of your own mind.“

“You're scared because you don't know what part of it was real and which part you made up because it should've you instead of them. So much that you convince yourself that they would think so too. It's like living in a time loop, and no matter how much you try to change how to solve the problem it always ends the same way and you can't fix it. You just feel so...powerless. We watch movies together sometimes. Just the two of us. We don't say much, but it's like we have some kind of understanding between each other, and it helps a little. Those nights she doesn't have nightmares. Neither do I. Sometimes I think it's just comforting to know there's someone there to hold." 

"Nancy is different. She's just quiet, all the time. She didn't shut herself away like Dustin did. She still goes to school, does the paper, everything that she did before, but it's like she trying to live a normal life, but she's not living at all, she's just going through the motions. Muscle memory. Maybes she's using it as a distraction, but everyone can see right through it. Lucas quit basketball, too. He said it was because Jason ruined it for him, and that's probably true, but I think the real reason is because it reminds him of you. He told me that you helped him practice, gave him advice for making the team. He said you were the only one who showed up to his championship game to watch him, even though he sat the bench for the whole season. He told me how proud of him you were, and how happy he was to see you there when there was no one else. Now, it just makes him sad, and angry. I can feel him starting to pulling away, like I did. We still do things together, but there's just this emptiness, this void that can't be filled no matter how hard we try."

"I think he's angry, too. Dustin, I mean. Maybe at you, maybe at the world, I don't know, but Ms. Kelly told me about the five stages of grief back when I was seeing her about last summer. She said the first stage was denial, and after denial came anger. I don't think he ever got past the second stage. But, I guess grief affects people differently. Before Vecna, I was stuck in the bargaining stage for a long time. I don't know if I ever truly left, to be honest. I know that Billy was a bad person, but I still find myself wishing it had been me instead. Part of me still feels responsible, like I deserved to die instead of him for not doing anything and letting it happen. I hated him, but maybe I just felt like I had an obligation to him because we were family, which sounds so idiotic now.”

“Sometimes I feel like it should've been me because I'm such a shitty person for being happy he's dead. Like who thinks like that? You have to be pretty damn sick to be happy your own brother is dead. But that’s just me, I guess. Full of fucking surprises apparently. I'm working through it though, I promise. I know it's what you would want for me, I know it's what Lucas wants for me, but most importantly, it's what I want for myself. After everything that happened with Vecna, it made me realize how much I still wanted to live and how much there was the live for, and I don't want to miss that. I want to be a better person."  

"Anyway, I didn't exactly come here to update you on my life. I came here because of my letter. The letter I wrote to you when I thought I was going to die. I didn't want anyone to read it beforehand because, I don't know. I guess I was scared of being so vulnerable. I thought maybe it would make you think I was weak or something, but I know that's not true now. Still, you deserve to know what was in the letter. I hope you don't mind that I changed some things from the original. I have a lot more to say this time. If I can do one thing to help you rest easy, I want this to be it." 

"Dear Steve," she started, unfolding the piece of paper in her hands. She looked up, reading the name engraved in the stone. She felt tears beginning to form, but quickly blinked them back. She couldn't cry, not yet. "There's a lot I wish that I could have said to you when you were around. A lot I should have said to you, and I don't know why I never did. Maybe I was just afraid that you didn't think of me the same way I thought of you. Or maybe I just didn't realize how important those words could be until you weren't around to hear them. I guess the reason doesn't really matter anymore, I just wish I'd said them sooner. You deserved to hear them sooner, but I hope that wherever you are, you're listening."

"I remember when we first met. You were wearing this stupid gray jacket and a backpack with your dumb nail bat sticking out of the top. You didn't even know my name yet, you just called me some 'random girl'." Max let out a short laugh. She’d been so naive then, not even aware of what she was getting herself into that night.

"I was the only one helping you set up that bus, while Lucas and Dustin did jack shit. That was the day Lucas told me about all this crazy supernatural shit and I got mixed up into it all. I remember that day really vividly. I mean, it kind of changed the whole trajectory of my life, but I know if you were here right now you'd tell me it was obviously because it was the day I met you, and I would laugh at you and tell you not to get such a big head. Then, I would never have admitted it, but things are different now, and maybe there's some truth to that statement."

"I remember sitting in that old bus, just waiting for the demodogs to come running to the trap we set. When I think of it, I can still hear you flicking that stupid lighter on and off, and giving Dustin the worst love advice on picking up girls I have ever heard that I pretended not to. Dustin snapped at me, and thinking back on it, maybe I deserved that, but at the time I didn't really understand, so I left you two in the bus to sit with Lucas. That's where we saw the first one. You see, it escalated so fast. One moment there was one demodog hiding in the shadows, and the next second you're out there selling yourself as live bait, swinging that dumb bat, taunting it. I thought you were absolutely crazy, but Dustin? He just thought you were awesome. You should've seen the look on his face that night. It was pure adoration.”

“For a minute, everything was going according to plan, and then suddenly you were being chased back into the bus by like, five of those things. We were surrounded, and all I can remember thinking was that we were going to die. The junk we used to barricade the doors and windows wasn't enough. The dogs were strong enough to plow right through them, and Lucas and I had forgotten to cover the emergency hatch. One of those things had gotten to the roof, it's ugly face peering down from the hole in the ceiling and I was sure in that moment that it was the end of me, but then you were there. In all your nail bat glory, shoving me behind you and throwing yourself in its direct line of attack." 

"You had no reason to do that. We were just some stupid, reckless kids who thought we could handle everything. We thought we were invincible. You didn't even know us all that well, or at all really. You could have easily let that thing chew on me while the rest of you escaped, but you didn't. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for me, for us. I still don't know why you did it. You weren't responsible for any of us, it wasn't your job, and yet you were there. And when everything was over, and it was quiet again, I just remember feeling safe. It was the first time in a long time I felt that way, and it was because of you."

"And then, in that same night, you did it again. My brother came up to the Byer's house, ready to bust the doors down, but you were there. You put yourself in danger just to keep me safe even though you didn't know me. You lied to his face because you knew I was scared of him, but you weren't. And when he was going after Lucas, you went after him. You would've won, too, but Billy was a dirty cheater. He nearly killed you, you know. If he'd gone on any longer...but that's just it. You didn't care if you got beat up, you didn't care if you died, as long as we were safe. Ever since the first day I met you, that's all you ever wanted. To keep us safe, and you did. No matter what happened, you kept us safe."

"You've never stopped risking your life for us. Whenever something goes south, you're always the very first person to go head first into danger. Dustin told me about what happened in the Russian base. How you stood back to hold the door closed so they could escape, getting yourself captured. He said they tortured you, that's why your face was all bruised and swollen. But getting beat to shit by those damn Russians didn't stop you from putting your life on the line for us again.”

“Watching Billy speed towards us while we were stuck in the parking lot was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I knew Billy. He was a gross, bigoted piece of shit, but even then, I had never seen so much hatred on his face before. If it weren't for you, he would have gotten us all. He would've killed Nancy, and then us, but you rammed your car into his, even though you were sporting a black and blue eye swollen shut, and a grade A concussion. You were the reason we were able to escape, the reason we were eventually able to defeat that thing.”

“And then you saved me. Just, me. When I was at Billy's grave, you were the one to realize something was wrong. You were the reason they had time to find music to help me find that portal to the real world. If they'd waited any longer, I wouldn't be here right now. And I know maybe it's not the time, or maybe it's just stupid, but you guys doing everything you could to make sure I stayed, that I didn't get taken, even after I kept pushing you away, made me feel good. I finally felt important. I felt like I was finally apart of your little dysfunctional family. You made me a priority, and it's been a long time since anyone decided I was worth a chance.”

“I guess this is just a really long, round about way to say, thank you. I should've told you it sooner. I should've told you when you could stand in front of me and hear it for yourself, but I didn't, and I'll never forgive myself for that. I think that you deserved better than me, maybe better than all of us. I know you would deny, deny, deny, because that's just who you are. You don't think you're important, like the rest of us do, but you are, and it's true. Now that you're gone, sometimes I think about all the times you've saved us, and how much we really took you for granted. It didn't feel like that's what we were doing at the time, but I just didn't really realize everything I had, and the full scale of everything you did for us until you were gone.”

She sighed, swallowing back the sob that threatened to escape her lips. "I never told you the real reason why you got a letter, and why the others didn't. All my life, people have always left me behind. They've always forgotten about me, or always skipped out on me, or just decided I wasn't worth the extra effort. Jonathan and Nancy are great, but they're not always there. Sometimes, I feel like they get tunnel vision, you know? Sometimes they make you feel like you're not as important as other things or people in their life. And maybe it's true, that I'm not, but the truth didn't stop that from hurting. Sometimes it felt like they were bailing too.”

“But not you. Never you. From that very first day I met you, you were always right there making sure I was safe. Keeping me alive. Or just showing me that I mattered to you. You were the one consistent person in my life, and it didn't matter if you were saving my life or just driving me to the arcade, you were always there. I always knew that I could call you, no matter the time of day, and you'd answer. Even when you called up dipshits and pretended that you were annoyed for having to watch us. You never bailed. You never gave up on me. That's why you got this letter."

"I think Dustin blames himself for what happened, like Robin does. He thinks that if he'd been with you things might've been different. We've tried telling him that it wasn't his fault, but the truth is, I'm a fucking liar and a hypocrite, because I blame myself too." She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the water drip down her cheeks.

"If I had just, been stronger, held on longer, I could've distracted Vecna long enough to keep you guys safe. If he was still in my head, like he was at Billy’s grave, when you made it to that attic, you would still be here. I was still in the hospital when Hopper told me what happened. All I remember feeling in that moment was just, guilt. Because it was supposed to be me. If anyone died that day, it was supposed to be me. But there I was in that hospital bed, alive, while you're heart stopped beating. I just, couldn't stop feeling like I had failed you. For once, instead of you, it was me putting my life on the line for the rest of you. The one time it was someone else dying for you, instead of you dying for everyone else, and I failed. And I am so sorry that it wasn't enough to save you." 

"I hate you so goddamn much, you know that?” she cried, her voice shaking. "I hate you for being such an idiot, for thinking that you're expendable. For believing that none of us would miss you, because I do, and for believing that you weren't important. You are, and you matter so much to me. I wish you knew that before you went to go be a stupid martyr. I hate you for making me read this stupid letter to a piece of dumb rock instead of to your face. I already lost Billy. I mean, yeah, he was an asshole, but he was still my brother, and you knew how much it hurt, and now I had to lose you too?"

She crumpled the paper into a ball, throwing it as hard as she could at the engraved headstone. "Screw you, Steve. I mean it. I'm never coming back here. Ever again."

Max sat back, curling her knees to her chest, letting sobs wrack her body. She hadn't cried like this in a long time. The time she'd spent grieving had convinced her beyond reasonable doubt that it was just easier to pretend she didn't feel anything at all, but Steve didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to be forgotten, or for someone to pretend they didn't care that he was dead. That simply wasn't the truth. The truth was that this entire situation was bullshit. It was unfair. It wasn't right, and there was nothing she could do to change it. 

"You know what I hate you the most for? I hate you for making me care about you so fucking much," she said, leaning her forehead against his headstone as the cries subsided. "For making me love you like the family I never got to have. Like my own brother. You always made me feel safe, feel loved, and I just wish that I had been able to do the same for you. I miss you. I really, really miss you." 

She ran her fingers across the words, feeling the divots in the stone catch on her fingertips.

Steve Harrington. Beloved Son, Friend, and Babysitter. 

And brother, she silently added, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

He would have killed them if he knew they put 'babysitter' on his stone. And maybe it was a little cheesy, but she didn’t care. Always the goddamn babysitter, she remembered, almost laughing at the memory. He'd been so frustrated being left to watch the kids, again, but truth be told, Max didn't think he trusted anyone else to protect them the way he did. And if she was being completely frank, she didn't either. There weren’t many adults in her life she trusted to begin with. Most of them ended up just being a total disappointment, but the ones she did trust, they’d never even come close to making her feel as secure as she did with Steve. He would never truly know how much being ‘the babysitter’ really meant to her. 

“It’s late, but, uh, before I go, I just…I want to say something. I know it probably sounds ridiculous, and if you were here right now you’d probably laugh and tell me that I need better role models or something, but even if you didn’t hear everything else I had to say, I need you to hear this. You were my hero, Steve. Maybe you didn’t have cool superpowers like El, or a suit filled with expensive gadgets like Batman, but you were always a hero to me. And that’s the way I want you to be remembered.”

Max sighed. reaching for the crumpled pages of her letter, doing her best to flatten the creases. She stared at the last page before reaching for the pencil in her jacket pocket, scribbling words at the empty space at the bottom of the paper before putting it back in the envelope. She gently placed it against the headstone, front and center, his name in her messy handwriting staring back at her. 

Love,

         Max