Work Text:
July 28, 1985
“Hi, Maria,” Steve greeted as he entered his therapist’s office. “I know it’s not my turn this month, but since I keep eating your cherries, I hope you don’t mind that I brought some this time.”
Steve’s face was bandaged and bruised, and he walked gingerly into the room. Painful proof of the Battle of Starcourt.
The older woman smiled kindly at him, and gestured for him to sit down across from her. “I don’t mind at all. Welcome back, Steve. It’s been quite a month since I saw you last.”
It had been quite the month. The last time Steve saw Maria was at the beginning of June, a week before he had graduated. A lot had changed even without the Upside Down having made its annual comeback.
Steve started his first job, gained a few annoying coworkers, dealt with demanding customers, and had become a bigger pushover for the kids. He liked to pretend it bugged him, but the Party knew he loved them. After reading a book on fruits, El liked to say he was a coconut. He hadn't really seen the point, but he found it amusing.
If he had to be a fruit, Steve thought he would be an orange. Sweet but citrusy, and easily smashed to a pulp. That might’ve been his pessimism talking, though.
Life for Steve changed ever further when they fought Upside Down. Again. In a day, Steve got a platonic soulmate, another kid to look after, more injuries, and another traumatic experience to add to his growing collection.
“Would you prefer to start lightly, or delve into what happened at Starcourt?” Maria asked, stirring Steve from his thinking.
“Light, please,” he whispered.
Maria readied her pen in her hand, hovering the tip over her clipboard. “Alright, so where we left off, you were about to graduate and start a new job. Tell me about how that went.”
“Well, as you know, I didn’t get into college. Didn’t have the grades for it. Too many concussions, perhaps. Maybe I was too concerned with popularity, but that doesn’t make much sense to me because I wasn’t popular as a senior.”
Steve paused. “You mentioned months ago that I might be dyslexic?”
“Yes, Steve,” Maria started, “You said you didn’t want to be diagnosed, so we haven’t, but it is likely that you have some form of dyslexia. You said you often accidentally skip over words like they’re not even there?”
Steve nodded along. “That’s what happened before, yeah. It made English and math really hard. It got worse after I got beat up last November. Now the words are all wobbly and it’s harder for my brain to process things, even when they’re spoken to me. Anyways, my dad got even more mad after I graduated.”
“And your mom?” Maria asked.
“She didn’t care about my grades. She also didn’t care that dad was furious about it.” Steve started to eat some of the cherries from the bag he brought as he continued talking.
“Sometimes I wish she cared. She’s got all this respect around town for volunteering at local charities when she’s on business trips with dad. She cares so much about other people, and it’s wonderful, but I can’t help but feel hurt when she doesn’t seem to even love me.”
For the past several years, Steve had seen his parents on an on-and-off basis. Some weeks they were there, and some weeks they weren’t. He knew it was something about how they preferred to keep Steve in one town instead of needing to move the whole family every year for his dad’s work.
The consequence to that was their repeated absence from his life. Their time away increased over the years as Steve had gotten older, and they hadn’t been in Hawkins since his graduation ceremony.
He couldn’t remember the last time his mom hugged him, but he remembered all the stories of how affectionate and kind she was with the people she helped. It may sound selfish, but sometimes he just wanted his mom to put down her work and choose him over everyone else.
Maria finished her section of notes, looking them over before looking back to Steve. “You said ‘sometimes.’ What times are you not bothered by her not caring?”
“I–I don’t know. I just feel like some days I wonder what it would be like if she were around, and other times I can’t stand the thought of her actively being in my life,” he said, confused.
“I won’t go further into it today, but I’ll put that in my notes as something to explore later if you’re interested,” she commented. Steve hummed in response. “Tell me about the job you got.”
“Scoops Ahoy, at Starcourt Mall. I had to wear this ridiculous sailor’s outfit, ‘company policy’ and all that. Despite how bad it looked, it was actually really comfortable.” Steve looked reluctant to admit that last part. He was just glad that these sessions were confidential, so he knew there was no way that word could get out about it.
Robin likely already knew, so he guessed there wasn’t much point in lying about it anyways. Nevertheless, his spare uniforms were buried deep in his closet. Those shorts were worth the minor sparks of panic he felt when he was wearing them.
Steve was pretty sure Robin knew about that, too.
“And this was where you met… Robin, right?”
Steve hummed in confirmation. “Before all this shit went down, I think she hated me. For high school and stuff. Then the Russians happened and now we’re inseparable. We actually have friendship bracelets, can you believe it?” Steve said rhetorically.
They actually did have matching friendship bracelets, three each.
Two were made of woven strings – one with blue and white string with a single red bead for Scoops Ahoy, the other in green and yellow for their new job at Family Video. Robin’s were a little crooked and wonky in places because it was Steve’s first time making them, but it was obvious to him that she loved them.
The third ones they wore were chain bracelets with charms on them: a bird, baseball bat, cone of ice cream, anchor, and frog. They rarely took them off.
Now that they were friends, Steve couldn’t imagine going back to his life without Robin. She was now an intrinsic part of who he was as a person and who he wanted to be. He was deathly afraid of her leaving him, and had repeatedly dreamt up scenarios where whatever trauma-bonding they did wore off and she went back to hating him.
If that ever happened, Steve wholeheartedly believed that it would probably be the worst moment of his life – easily surpassing his hurt when Nancy confessed that she never loved him, and his literal pain from fighting the Upside Down and all that it entailed.
Maria reached for the bag of cherries and snacked on a few. “I’m going to have to check in with you for the next few months about your relationship with Robin so it doesn’t turn into an unhealthy codependency,” she said in between bites.
Steve was very quick to backtrack, stammering “Relationship? Maria, we’re not dating.”
“There are more than just romantic and sexual relationships, Steve.”
Steve flushed red in embarrassment. “I know,” he muttered lightly.
Maria laughed silently and dropped her cherry pits into a small bowl. She then quickly became serious. “So, working in an ice cream parlour, how’s that been for you personally? And don’t give me some vague answer, or avoid the question.”
Steve froze. He knew exactly what Maria was asking. And by the stern look on her face, she clearly knew it, too. He took a minute to gather his thoughts.
“It was hard,” he mumbled, “My brain kept yelling at me whenever I considered eating any for myself. It was free for employees, but the sight of it made me panic. I worked there for a month, and I can count on one hand how much ice cream I’ve had.”
“I’m only asking because in April you and I talked about your history of poor eating habits. And by poor, I mean that you told me that there were often times when you didn’t eat anything.”
“Well, I gotta do something to stay in shape for the ladies,” Steve answered humorlessly.
“By going on runs or working out, not by starving yourself,” Maria countered. “This kind of thinking is not good for you, Steve. It’s going to get you into a lot of trouble. I think this is a good time to remind you that I legally can and will inform others about this if I think you’re in danger. Hence why I need you to expand more on how this is affecting you, so I can figure out the best ways to help you and ensure it doesn’t get to the point where you are endangering yourself.”
Steve flinched and his eyes grew watery. Who exactly could she tell? His parents were out of town most of the time, Hopper… was dead, and Joyce left the state. Robin, perhaps? He shuddered to think about it. Robin would kill him if Maria called her about this.
Maria’s tone turned gentle. “I don’t like being this firm with you, but I need to stress the importance of this, so we can work through these sorts of problems together like we have for the past year and a half.”
It was true. Maria had been great at helping him cope with nightmares, his break up with Nancy, and high school stress, among other things.
It was unfortunate that every time Steve was feeling okay again that the Upside Down returned. Two steps forward, one step back. Probably a little more than one step back. He had the thought that maybe he should keep that in mind as a way to predict when the Upside Down would come back. An internal alarm, where his happiness was a sign that the Upside Down would mess everything up soon.
Or maybe not. It was depressing to think that he would never be able to be happy. Since the first day he had met her, Maria had spoken to him a lot about his happiness and being less pessimistic.
He cleared his throat. “It just seems so fucking silly for something as little as ice cream to trigger anxiety about my body. Especially since I work there. It’s embarrassing,” he complained.
“I don’t find it silly. It’s not. What you’re feeling is perfectly normal for you, Steve. You’re recovering from a years-long eating disorder, there are bound to be triggers for that, and it’s good that you’ve discovered one early on.”
Maria popped a cherry into her mouth as she continued, saying, “Now, what was it that I told you in April about this?”
“It’s better to think I look fat than to look sick.”
“Mhm,” she hummed in confirmation. “Those girls you’re apparently starving yourself for aren’t going to love you less if you’re a healthy weight instead of stick-figure thin. And if they do, then they aren’t worth a second of your time. A perfect kiss isn’t going to save you if you think you need to engage in unhealthy habits for them to love you.”
Steve felt his eyes fill with unshed tears. “I have been eating better for the past few months, Maria,” he said stubbornly. “I stick to the schedule we made and everything. It’s helping. I, uh, it was hard when my dizziness and nausea lessened after I started eating regularly,” he admitted, “because, it wasn’t until then that I knew for sure, without a doubt, that it was my fault.”
“Again, there is nothing wrong with feeling that way. I’m proud that you recognise how this is affecting your life, and that you’re willing to implement my advice so you improve,” Maria said, smiling.
“Can we take a break?” Steve asked. “I think I’m ready to talk about the Upside Down now.”
“Go right ahead, I’ll be here.” Maria nodded.
Steve used that time to go to the washroom, while Maria went over her notes on that day’s session. She added a few notes in the margins, eating several cherries as she reviewed her work.
When he re-entered the room, Maria grabbed a new sheet of paper to write on as he sat down.
Steve quietly recounted the story from the beginning, when Dustin returned to Hawkins and miraculously stumbled upon a secret Russian communication. He began severely shaking when he got to the part where he sacrificed himself and Robin to help Dustin and Erica escape.
The tears fell freely down his cheeks as he spoke about how he was interrogated and beaten to unconsciousness, how he intentionally drew attention to himself so they would hurt him instead of Robin. Being drugged. Escaping. The constant paranoia and panic attacks afterwards. The whole basement segment left a sour taste in his mouth that spilled forwards in hurtful words, drenched in his pain.
If he had made Robin leave, she wouldn’t have had to deal with the interrogations and being drugged. If he was better at fighting, then perhaps the guard wouldn’t have been able to recover and call for reinforcements so quickly. He shouldn’t have involved a 10-year-old child, no matter how important their investigation turned out to be.
“Steve, you made the best possible decisions you could have in those moments. Looking back, you’re always going to see your mistakes and ways that you could’ve been better, that’s human. But when you’re living through those events in real-time? There is no way you could have known all of the effects of a single action,” Maria softly explained.
“Given everything you’ve told me, and everything I already know, I believe it would be best to go back to having biweekly sessions until things settle. You’re experiencing strong symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress, and I don’t feel comfortable only checking in with you once a month,” she said. “Now, as for the panic attacks, have you noticed any new triggers in the past few weeks?”
Steve took a tissue and wiped the tears off of his face and blew his nose. “Needles, drugs, alcohol, fireworks, and driving,” he listed.
The first three were a bit too close to how the Russian drugs affected him, and the lack of control quickly shifted from fun teenager shit to dangerous. Dustin and Erica needed help, and he was too high to do anything useful. That terrified him.
In his mind, fireworks and gunshots were now always associated with death and the Upside Down. The sharp, loud noise did not do him any favours.
Driving was surprising, though. Steve figured it was his subconscious remembering when he crashed into Billy’s car, and that his body just wouldn’t forget it. Weeks later and he still panicked as soon as he sat behind the wheel of his BMW.
Steve was thankful that he was too injured to chauffeur his kids around town, so at least he wasn’t disappointing them with his lack of driving.
“The good news is that some of those are avoidable and can become manageable. Drugs and alcohol are a personal choice, and being aware of that trigger is the first step to protecting yourself from it. Needles… now, those will likely be necessary throughout your life at different points, but if you ask the doctors and nurses, they can help distract you whenever they need to insert a needle so that you’re not focused on your thoughts or panic.
“For fireworks, I recommend using earplugs if you’re at an event in which you know there will be fireworks. If fireworks are being shot without warning, find somewhere quiet and implement the techniques I’ve taught you for dealing with your panic attacks.
“Your anxiety about driving is completely understandable. It might not seem like a huge deal in comparison to everything else that’s happened, but the crash has affected you deeply, whether you’re conscious of it or not. You need to take small steps and make little bits of progress until you’ll be okay driving again. I’m talking about sitting inside your car, parked, before you even feel comfortable turning it on. Small steps like that.”
She stopped talking for a minute so she could drink enough water to soothe the dryness of her throat.
“As for the basement, I can’t sugarcoat it with you, Steve. You were tortured, plain and simple as that. It was a horrifying and traumatic experience for you to go through, and it never should have happened. But it did, and I’m going to make sure you’ll be okay going forward in your life,” Maria said determinedly.
“Stick close to your support system, don’t bottle things in as you tend to do. If you don’t talk to me, talk to Robin, or someone else in your life who you feel comfortable talking about this to. You could even talk to a different therapist about it if it would help.
“I can’t erase what happened to you, but I can erase some of the impacts of it. For the foreseeable future, we’ll focus on managing your response to your triggers. After that, we’ll work on limiting those triggers. I want you to continue using all those techniques I taught you for your panic attacks, and I’ll check in with you in two weeks to see how that went, okay?”
Steve nodded his head and smiled gently. “Yeah, that’s good.”
“Alright, that will bring us to the end of today’s session. I will see you in two weeks, Steve.”
Steve stood up and picked up his bag of cherries. He hesitated for a moment before turning around and handing them to Maria. “You can keep the cherries. Thanks, Maria.”
Maria grinned and gladly accepted the bag, immediately eating one of them.
Steve left her office feeling lighter than when he had walked in. He was still hurt, but he felt lighter. It was a gruelling process, but there wasn’t a day that he regretted his decision to start seeing her back at the start of December in 1983.