The babysitters club|| Steve Harrington

34

Matteo was dying. He was sure of it.

His heart raced faster and faster.

His chest fucking hurt with every breath he tried to take, every twitch of his muscles and he almost had an anxiety attack but he couldn't afford to. Just because he told the panic to go away, didn't mean it lessened. If anything, it seemed to grow, like a bottomless lake in his stomach.

Matteo's legs trembled in anticipation and his fingers shook.

They were crouched under the counter of some frozen yoghurt place which was honestly more insulting than anything else. Ice cream scoopers in a froyo place? Seriously? This is where he would die?

He tried to take deep but silent breaths as he took his last few good looks around. He could hear the footsteps of the Russians that were looking for them. One of the guards was kind of cute which Matteo found incredibly infuriating. Why did the hot ones have to be out to kill them?

One of them spoke something in Russian and Matteo hoped it meant they couldn't find the kids so they were going to give up and go home. But with their luck, it probably meant the five of them had been spotted.

He thought he might throw up again. Robin clutched his hand desperatebly, her own fingers shaking.

She was on Matteo's right, Steve on his left while Erica was in his lap since they didn't have much space. He could feel her heartbeat through his chest, racing just like his was. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance the Russians would let the kids go.

Matteo had to hope.

As scary and mean Erica was, he cared about her, a lot. He was an only child but the past few days, Robin, Stvee and Dustin had started to feel more than just friends, more than just a baby sitters club.

Trauma bonding. He thought.

His life flashed in front of his eyes, as pathetic as ever. Never amounted to much in school, so it was probably good that he died here. What would his parents think?

Would his mom be disappointed? Would she blame herself? Would his dad take care of her? Would they be fine? Probably not. Zia Nicole would be there for his mom though.

And no matter how devastating it would be to lose a son, they would make it through. He had to hope they would make it through.

He didn't want to die. He really didn't. In all the beating ups he received, it had never occurred to him to give up. He knew some people did. Fed up of the bullying and harassment and homophobia.

Some people cut themselves, some hung themselves.

But Matteo was too much of a coward. 

The Russians' footsteps got closer. Why were they closer?

Matteo pulled Erica closer to his chest. That had been the plan all along, hadn't it? Save Erica and Dustin of it came down to it.

A thousand thought raced through his head.

Maybe they could provide a distraction, letting the two younger ones get enough time to get away.

Maybe— maybe— maybe this was it. Maybe this would be where he died.

Erica was shaking. Or was it Matteo? He couldn't tell.

He hated that he knew exactly who's fingers were threading through his. He hated that it made him feel calmer. He hated that Steve looked so beautiful so close to death.

Steve. Oh god, not Steve.

Steve couldn't die. He was— god, he was the sun. What would the Earth do without the sun? Surely if Steve died here, the Earth would just stop spinning.

Even if he was straight, even if he would never like Matteo back, Matteo still wanted to be his friend. He kind of liked this new and improved Steve even if he had a crush on Robin.

He squeezed Steve's hand.

A car alarm blared.

Matteo was so startled, he dropped Steve and Robin's hand, curling over Erica to protect her just in case.

The horn honked.

It was the show car— a red Chrysler Matteo had admired many times.

The Russian guard seemed taken aback as well. He muttered something under his breath and Matteo wanted to peek over the counter and take a look for himself.

What the fuck?

Something crashed. There was a deafening sound of crunching metal and screaming men. Something big and heavy seemed to have smashed through tables, chairs and even the men. What the fuck was going on?

Matteo looked to his sides. Robin and Steve had similar expressions of confusion.

It was eerily silent other than the hissing of gas or crumpled metal. Matteo caught Steve's eye. Should they check or not?

In the end, when they still hadn't heard any more gunshots or footsteps, all five of them peeked out from their hiding spot and Matteo thought he had finally lost his mind.

All the Russian agents were dead. Their twisted and bloodied bodies scattered across the floor of the food court. Matteo and the others followed the noise of metal with their eyes, leaning over the counter to get a better look at things.

A spinning hubcap from the car that had just moments ago stood for show on the completely opposite side of the food court, came to a stop. When Matteo noticed the man next to it, he almost threw up again. He wasn't sure if it was from relief.

Pony tail man lay dead, blood flowing from a wound in his head.

A part of Matteo felt disgusted and downright terrified. But a part of him was glad.

The others seemed to be thinking the same thing as him when they all looked over at the wrecked Chrysler that had come to a stop at NEW YORK PIZZA AND WINGS.

"What the fuck?" Matteo managed.

Steve nudged his shoulder, pointing to the second level where seven people had gathered. Seven people Matteo never would have guessed to be involved in all of this.

He recognized all of them, because that's just the kind of town Hawkins was.

Jonathan Byers, Nancy and, Mike Wheeler, El, Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers.

What in the actual fuck?

When he looked back at Dustin, he was grinning.