[ Turns out, it takes a bit more time to recover from being tortured by Russians than, say, a pounding courtesy of one Billy Hargrove or a righteous right hook brought to him by Jonathan Byers. The bruises have faded and the only mark left is by his lip, the jagged cut slowly healing up. The soreness is mostly gone — his neck no longer aches from the whiplash and his limbs aren't quite as lead-like now.
Mentally, it's an entirely different story. Sure, it's better than he had been after the first incident (the first incident, christ, he really had to number them now, huh?); the secrets were no longer weighing down on his shoulders as he walked the hallways of Hawkins High with the same smile plastered onto his face. Now though, he was expected to be a goddamn adult or something? It didn't help that his old man had chosen this exact moment to be around town for an extended period of time.
He rubs at his forehead with annoyance when he hears the sound of his father's voice bellowing from downstairs. ]
Yeah, yeah, I'm—
[ Steve stops short as he takes in that name — Nancy Wheeler. Shit. Of course Nancy wouldn't let their last conversation go. Leave it to her to storm her way over the moment she could. He glances over at his calendar as he runs a hand down his face. ]
Jesus christ. — I'm coming!
[ He sucks in a bit of air, running a hand through his hair. He looked fine. Good, even. Good enough to pass muster and probably only get a side-eye from his father on the way down. Whatever, he could deal.
As he makes his way downstairs, footsteps heavy on each step, Steve slips into his old devil-may-care attitude, a casual smile crossing over his face as he saunters into the living room. ]
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Mentally, it's an entirely different story. Sure, it's better than he had been after the first incident (the first incident, christ, he really had to number them now, huh?); the secrets were no longer weighing down on his shoulders as he walked the hallways of Hawkins High with the same smile plastered onto his face. Now though, he was expected to be a goddamn adult or something? It didn't help that his old man had chosen this exact moment to be around town for an extended period of time.
He rubs at his forehead with annoyance when he hears the sound of his father's voice bellowing from downstairs. ]
Yeah, yeah, I'm—
[ Steve stops short as he takes in that name — Nancy Wheeler. Shit. Of course Nancy wouldn't let their last conversation go. Leave it to her to storm her way over the moment she could. He glances over at his calendar as he runs a hand down his face. ]
Jesus christ. — I'm coming!
[ He sucks in a bit of air, running a hand through his hair. He looked fine. Good, even. Good enough to pass muster and probably only get a side-eye from his father on the way down. Whatever, he could deal.
As he makes his way downstairs, footsteps heavy on each step, Steve slips into his old devil-may-care attitude, a casual smile crossing over his face as he saunters into the living room. ]
Heyyy, Nance. How was Lake Michigan?