Chapter Text
‘It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight.’
As Dustin pushed his bike along the long road to try and meet back up with the others – too sore to even think about riding it – he wondered if those words applied to him now. He’d held his own decently given it was four on one. Of course, Andy and his asshole friends had beaten him eventually, it wasn’t like Dustin had any superpowers to speak of. But he’d tried to do Eddie proud, had been trying, even if the rest of the Party just kept telling him to keep his head down.
But Dustin still wore his Hellfire shirt, had grown his hair out like Eddie’s had been. He wouldn’t let the whole of Hawkins go around talking shit about his friend.
That was when he caught sight of the van, the one he was supposed to be in for the Crawl. Son of a bitch, he’d hoped he’d come across someone else first, knew Steve was going to give him so much shit. The same way he’d been doing for over a year now. He didn’t need Steve worrying about him, it was the last thing he needed actually. The images of Eddie’s sacrifice haunted him enough.
Dustin came to a stop – his body aching, ribs bruised – and raised a single hand giving a pathetic wave. Steve got out of the van, slamming the door behind himself and grabbed Dustin’s bike. He shoved it in the back, dragging Dustin to one side before he could climb in too. Jonathan stared at them as Steve pulled him down the road, somewhat out of earshot. Steve was pacing, clearly angry, as Dustin curled in on himself slightly from the pain blooming in his ribs.
“You know, I’m getting real sick of your dumbass attitude, Henderson!” Steve exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in irritation before huffing and tugging slightly at the torn collar of Dustin's Hellfire shirt. “You’re even wearing your damn hair like him.”
Dustin drew a breath in sharply through his nose, taking a step back and looking up at the sky to hide how much those words stung. How every mention of Eddie was like a punch to the gut even eighteen months later. “What, are you mad I’m not using your four puffs of Farrah Fawcett’s damn spray anymore?” he snapped back.
Dustin knew Steve would never believe that he’d fallen off his bike but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him the truth. Though Steve’d had the shit kicked out of him enough times to recognise Dustin’s injuries for what they were. Black eyes, busted nose, split lip.
“No man, I’m mad that you’re out there doing stupid shit! You wanna get yourself killed too?”
Dustin flinched as a look of regret flashed across Steve’s face, clearly knowing he’d gone too far but unwilling to take it back.
“Fuck you, asshole,” he spat back, trying to step around him but Steve grabbed his arm, spinning him back so they were face to face. Fingers digging into his arm but not enough to hurt, just enough to keep him there.
“You’re acting like... like you’re indestructible.” Steve’s voice lowered, more serious, a frown on his face that Dustin wanted to smooth away.
“I’m not indestructible, Steven,” he spat his full name like a curse, full of condescension. “I’m just dispensable.”
Steve’s fingers tightened on his arm. “That’s not true,” he said forcefully, “You’re one of the... the Party. You’re the... the...”
“The Bard,” Dustin filled in the blank with a roll of his eyes, “and do you really think that’ll keep me safe? Do you seriously think we’re all gonna make it through this alive?”
“No,” Steve breathed out with a sigh, letting go of Dustin’s arm to run his hands through his perfect hair again. Dustin had been stupid to think he could ever imitate him. “No. That’s why you have to stop provoking those jackasses, you’re putting yourself in enough danger with the Crawls.”
He shook his head sadly. Steve didn’t get it. Dustin had realised it not long after Eddie died, he was dispensable. Eddie had known it, had known there was no one to miss him – except Dustin himself – and he’d gone out a hero. Dustin could only hope he went the same way. Protecting his friends. Doing something heroic.
“You don’t get it, Steve,” Dustin said, voice lowered, resignation in his tone. “There’s no one to miss me. Mike has El. Lucas has Max. Will has Jonathan and Mrs Byers—”
“And what about me, huh?” Steve cut in, voice almost frantic. “Am I dispensable too? Who the hell do I have to miss me?”
Dustin’s heart clenched in his chest, Steve was anything but dispensable, especially to him. Not that he could admit that, not to Steve, not to anyone. “You’ve got... Nancy!” he deflected even though he knew it wasn’t true. Steve was as alone as he was.
Steve scoffed. “I haven’t had Nance in a long time. Face it Henderson, I’ve got just as much chance of dying as you do. More, actually,” he said, too casually for the way the words tore at Dustin’s heart.
“We’re all grown up, Harrington,” Dustin spat back, covering his pain with anger. “We don’t need a ‘babysitter’ anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna protect you!” Steve snapped back, voice raising properly for the first time.
“And if you die I die, remember?!” The words tore from Dustin’s throat in a broken howl. He’d meant them then, years ago now, back when he thought all he felt for Steve was admiration. He meant them even more now, not just because he would give his life for Steve, but because he wouldn’t survive losing him. The idea brought tears to his eyes and Steve froze. Eyes moving rapidly over Dustin’s beaten face before pulling him into his chest.
“Yeah,” he said softly, arms tight around Dustin, “I remember.”
“I can’t lose you,” the words slipped from Dustin’s lips in a whisper, breathed into Steve’s chest where he still stood over a head taller than him.
“You won’t,” Steve whispered back, arms wrapped tightly around him, one hand pressing his head to his chest as Dustin grasped his jacket fiercely. “I promise.”
But Dustin knew it was a promise he couldn’t make. There were no guarantees no matter how many plans they made, or how careful they were. There were always casualties during a campaign and this one would be no different. Dustin knew his role now though, and he wouldn’t be letting Steve – or anyone else – die to protect him ever again.
He wasn’t a kid anymore, this wasn’t going to be Steve protecting them all, swinging his nail-bat and taking a beating for them. Dustin could do it, be like Eddie, be a hero. Because if he lost Steve life wouldn’t be worth living. It didn’t matter that Steve would only ever see him as a kid, like a little brother. He knew from the moment his thoughts had turned more than friendly that nothing could ever come of it. But a world without Steve Harrington? It wasn’t a world Dustin wanted to live in.