Oh, yeah? [ there's a quiet lift her voice there, because yup, suggesting that he too might enjoy a cup of tea is a move that's more than a little transparent on his part. but, ironically, that somehow doesn't make it less effective, because she does actually take a moment to consider it. maybe he does actually..? no. steve doesn't drink tea. ..does he? shit, he really does have her number with that trick. what the hell.
she's tugged away from that dilemma by the new dilemma of steve doing the exact thing that she just told him he should do, which is just- he wants to get off the phone when he's about to drive to her house in the middle of the night? the nerve of him??? honestly? but no, while her hand is suddenly holding onto her phone noticeably tighter than it was a moment ago, and there is a protest right there on the tip of her tongue, she stops herself. it's better if he's not worried about keeping her company on the phone while he drives, it's safer. and she probably could stand to have a few minutes to try and find some sense of chill, maybe. soon, he emphasizes, and maybe there's something more to be said, she feels that too, but that actually helps all on its own. ] 'Kay.
[ staying right there on the edge of her bed with her phone cradled in both hands on her lap, just so she can keep herself awake by staring against the glare of the screen as she watches each minute tick by, probably isn't the best way to get herself together? but that's apparently what she's going with. and it's not the same as counting sheep, but it may as well be, because one second she's watching the screen and the next she's sucking in a drowsy breath after feeling her head drop forward suddenly. shit. okay. she's getting up. ... right after she reaches over to her little boom box, flipping pat benatar's tropico cassette back over to the A side again, once she realizes that was probably part of what allowed her dream to shift into a nightmare. the tape stopped playing too soon. great. noted.
from there she does actually get up, starting with putting on her slippers, and then she's headed downstairs and to the kitchen. because steve maybe wants tea. and you know what? he's driving all this way just so she can see with her own eyes that what she saw in her dream wasn't real ( don't think about it, don't think about it ), that he's okay, and that he's still in one piece ( don't think about it. ), so it's the least she could do. she doesn't turn on every light in her house along the way, but she very strategically made sure there wouldn't be any shadows stretched behind her as she went. it's fine. the other maple street residents who might notice all of those lights turn on one by one should mind their fucking business, actually.
by the time steve is knocking on her door, nancy's only had to talk herself down from crying twice, and she thinks that's pretty impressive. especially because the thought of something horrible happening to him on the way to her house was only the cause of one of those times. the second time was when she realized she never turned on the burner under the kettle. devastating.
it's very possible he'll hear her on the other side of the door before she actually opens it, starting with the sound of her pulling a wooden baseball bat out of the umbrella stand by the door ( karen insisted they keep it there, ever since the "earthquake" ). he might not hear her few steps on tip-toe as she peeks through the peep hole, but that was a pretty audible sigh of relief at seeing him there on the other side. she unlocks the bolt lock and the knob in a rush, and she maybe shouldn't immediately pull the door open as wide as she can manage without letting go of it, but she's so damn relieved that he's there that her chest actually kinda hurts. but it's fine. he's okay. the little step up into her house puts her at eye level with him, which means there's really no hiding the shine over her eyes that she can't seem to blink away, but.. that's okay. ]
Hi. [ who knew it was possible for someone's voice to crack around a simple, one-syllable word? nancy didn't, until just now. she feels herself sway the tiniest bit towards him, just enough to feel her weight shift onto the balls of her feet- but then her brow furrows, and she glances down. sheeeee definitely forgot about the louisville slugger gripped tight in her left hand, yep. when she's a righty. she's also a mess. ] It was. In case it wasn't you? Um.
[ she probably should have taken a moment to properly put the bat back where it belongs, but instead, she steps right up to the doorway and reaches out to drop it in the corner next to her without really looking, and wills it to tip towards the wall instead of clattering on the floor. except it didn't, and it did, and the sound makes her flinch, tensing up. and despite the fact that it was her own damn fault, her nerves are so shot that she still huffs a breath through her nose, eyes squeezing shut as her face ducks down, both hands balling into fists. it's almost as bad a forgetting to turn on the stove. frick. ]
Hi. ( it feels like the most lacking, half-assed answer to the e v e r y t h i n g that seems to be hanging in the air, right now. Steve has grown up a lot, since senior year. he has! is he that much better at knowing how to navigate these stifling, terrified silences — both of them all too aware of what could be lingering in the dark. back then Nancy had been determined to shine a light on all of it, like it'd be easier if they just knew. Steve had preferred to leave those ugly, vicious things where he couldn't see them. like things would be easier or safer or at least a little more normal if he just let sleeping dogs lie.
they're older, wiser and just so goddamn exhausted, now. looking danger in the eye has drained Nancy out, wrung her out like a sponge. Steve can't look away from it anymore, even if he wanted to. somehow they've met somewhere in the middle and yet he's still not entirely sure what to do next. tell her it's fine? it's not. tell her he understands? maybe he doesn't. they've all got their own separate pieces of this thing. adjacent, but never the same.
Nancy seems to be folding in on herself all over again, and somehow doing it right in front of him is even worse than pulling away or shutting herself in the bathroom. Steve catches her arms, not quite trying to drag them down to look at her, mostly just... testing the waters, what she'll tolerate. Nancy doesn't wiggle away so instead he pulls her closer. it doesn't really matter that her arms are a barrier between them, his arms can slip around her shoulders just fine. )
Hey, ( Steve says, stupidly, but fuck, what does he even say? maybe there's just not anything, here, not anything besides being there. and Nancy called him. she opened the door. she wants him here — that he can do, even if he doesn't have the words or the answers or even a hint of a solution. holding her like this makes him feel instantly better, weirdly enough, nose half tucked in the only barely tamed bedhead. ) I'm here. ( it's lame, it's absolutely obvious, no need to point that out. what's he gonna do next, tell her water is wet? tell her he hasn't stopped being in love with her, even though he knows he was supposed to? no, definitely not that last thing. whatever, there's something else obvious he can share. ) We're okay.
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no subject
Date: 2022-10-06 03:59 am (UTC)she's tugged away from that dilemma by the new dilemma of steve doing the exact thing that she just told him he should do, which is just- he wants to get off the phone when he's about to drive to her house in the middle of the night? the nerve of him??? honestly? but no, while her hand is suddenly holding onto her phone noticeably tighter than it was a moment ago, and there is a protest right there on the tip of her tongue, she stops herself. it's better if he's not worried about keeping her company on the phone while he drives, it's safer. and she probably could stand to have a few minutes to try and find some sense of chill, maybe. soon, he emphasizes, and maybe there's something more to be said, she feels that too, but that actually helps all on its own. ] 'Kay.
[ staying right there on the edge of her bed with her phone cradled in both hands on her lap, just so she can keep herself awake by staring against the glare of the screen as she watches each minute tick by, probably isn't the best way to get herself together? but that's apparently what she's going with. and it's not the same as counting sheep, but it may as well be, because one second she's watching the screen and the next she's sucking in a drowsy breath after feeling her head drop forward suddenly. shit. okay. she's getting up. ... right after she reaches over to her little boom box, flipping pat benatar's tropico cassette back over to the A side again, once she realizes that was probably part of what allowed her dream to shift into a nightmare. the tape stopped playing too soon. great. noted.
from there she does actually get up, starting with putting on her slippers, and then she's headed downstairs and to the kitchen. because steve maybe wants tea. and you know what? he's driving all this way just so she can see with her own eyes that what she saw in her dream wasn't real ( don't think about it, don't think about it ), that he's okay, and that he's still in one piece ( don't think about it. ), so it's the least she could do. she doesn't turn on every light in her house along the way, but she very strategically made sure there wouldn't be any shadows stretched behind her as she went. it's fine. the other maple street residents who might notice all of those lights turn on one by one should mind their fucking business, actually.
by the time steve is knocking on her door, nancy's only had to talk herself down from crying twice, and she thinks that's pretty impressive. especially because the thought of something horrible happening to him on the way to her house was only the cause of one of those times. the second time was when she realized she never turned on the burner under the kettle. devastating.
it's very possible he'll hear her on the other side of the door before she actually opens it, starting with the sound of her pulling a wooden baseball bat out of the umbrella stand by the door ( karen insisted they keep it there, ever since the "earthquake" ). he might not hear her few steps on tip-toe as she peeks through the peep hole, but that was a pretty audible sigh of relief at seeing him there on the other side. she unlocks the bolt lock and the knob in a rush, and she maybe shouldn't immediately pull the door open as wide as she can manage without letting go of it, but she's so damn relieved that he's there that her chest actually kinda hurts. but it's fine. he's okay. the little step up into her house puts her at eye level with him, which means there's really no hiding the shine over her eyes that she can't seem to blink away, but.. that's okay. ]
Hi. [ who knew it was possible for someone's voice to crack around a simple, one-syllable word? nancy didn't, until just now. she feels herself sway the tiniest bit towards him, just enough to feel her weight shift onto the balls of her feet- but then her brow furrows, and she glances down. sheeeee definitely forgot about the louisville slugger gripped tight in her left hand, yep. when she's a righty. she's also a mess. ] It was. In case it wasn't you? Um.
[ she probably should have taken a moment to properly put the bat back where it belongs, but instead, she steps right up to the doorway and reaches out to drop it in the corner next to her without really looking, and wills it to tip towards the wall instead of clattering on the floor. except it didn't, and it did, and the sound makes her flinch, tensing up. and despite the fact that it was her own damn fault, her nerves are so shot that she still huffs a breath through her nose, eyes squeezing shut as her face ducks down, both hands balling into fists. it's almost as bad a forgetting to turn on the stove. frick. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 02:10 am (UTC)they're older, wiser and just so goddamn exhausted, now. looking danger in the eye has drained Nancy out, wrung her out like a sponge. Steve can't look away from it anymore, even if he wanted to. somehow they've met somewhere in the middle and yet he's still not entirely sure what to do next. tell her it's fine? it's not. tell her he understands? maybe he doesn't. they've all got their own separate pieces of this thing. adjacent, but never the same.
Nancy seems to be folding in on herself all over again, and somehow doing it right in front of him is even worse than pulling away or shutting herself in the bathroom. Steve catches her arms, not quite trying to drag them down to look at her, mostly just... testing the waters, what she'll tolerate. Nancy doesn't wiggle away so instead he pulls her closer. it doesn't really matter that her arms are a barrier between them, his arms can slip around her shoulders just fine. )
Hey, ( Steve says, stupidly, but fuck, what does he even say? maybe there's just not anything, here, not anything besides being there. and Nancy called him. she opened the door. she wants him here — that he can do, even if he doesn't have the words or the answers or even a hint of a solution. holding her like this makes him feel instantly better, weirdly enough, nose half tucked in the only barely tamed bedhead. ) I'm here. ( it's lame, it's absolutely obvious, no need to point that out. what's he gonna do next, tell her water is wet? tell her he hasn't stopped being in love with her, even though he knows he was supposed to? no, definitely not that last thing. whatever, there's something else obvious he can share. ) We're okay.