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Things had never been truly easy for the Byers family, and Jonathan knew that better than anyone. First, there was the whole situation involving Lonnie and his constant abuse, which was almost always too much for little Jonathan to bear. Unattainable expectations, a desire for him to be strong, better, and someone who had to fight to earn the slightest bit of respect, something that Lonnie himself never truly gave him, nor his mother or brother. His actions, the things he was forced to do, still haunted him like a constant guilt in his miserable life. The day he forced him to kill a rabbit, train baseball to exhaustion, and the constant fights, verbal abuse, and sometimes physical abuse, when things got really ugly, led Jonathan to become increasingly withdrawn and constantly anxious.
Jonathan could still feel the marks on his back from the time he pulled the belt after drinking too much.
Lonnie's departure was like a breath of fresh air for the small family, but it didn't mean that things had become easier for them. The bills had to be paid, and with Joyce taking care of not only the house but also the bills to the point of spending more hours working than with her children, Jonathan had to start maturing even more than he already had. Now, he not only had to protect and care for Will, but also take care of the house as much as he could so as not to make his mother even more tired than she already was.
Small part-time jobs also emerged as a way to help bring in some extra money at home. They were small jobs, but it wasn't as if he could do much anyway because of his young age, and he was very afraid to take a job and have his mother find out and get upset, especially since she didn't want her 15-year-old son to be a little adult. So, he kept the few jobs he could get a secret.
It was stressful enough at home, even though he would never, under any circumstances, say it out loud, but there was also school. Jonathan was never remarkable enough to be categorized into any specific group. He was like a lone wolf, the outcast who roamed the hallways and went unnoticed like a ghost, to the point that even his teachers sometimes forgot he was in the classroom. This never really bothered him; in fact, he preferred it that way, and Jonathan understood perfectly why no one talked to him.
Jonathan was a little short, thin, with deep dark circles under his eyes even though he was so young, and on rare occasions, he had ugly bruises on his cheek and neck.
Everyone knew who was responsible for those bruises, and the boy knew better than anyone that his family was considered problematic and sometimes unlucky. Some felt sorry for him, others distanced themselves, and others... Well, they took advantage of him.
And that was the case with Steve Harrington and his damn group of friends.
He couldn't remember the reason or why, only that suddenly he found himself their favorite target. Shoving, name-calling directed at him and his family, sometimes punches were exchanged, sometimes it was just dirty looks that made Jonathan uncomfortable, like insects crawling under his skin and up his throat. And whenever that happened, he felt like the days when Lonnie was in a bad mood and decided to take out all his anger and frustration on him and Joyce. The goosebumps, the urge to disappear, to vanish. It was in those moments that Jonathan really wanted to be a ghost.
Things got worse the following year when Will disappeared. The situation at home became more difficult, passing by his younger brother's room and not seeing the familiar sight of Will drawing or doing his homework was something that tormented him for days. Having his mother worried, observing the anguish coming from such young boys, as was the case with Will's friends, who were only 12 years old... They shouldn't have to go through so much stress. Lonnie had also returned to Hawkins at some point, and suddenly the fear that that bastard might have done something to his brother became such a frightening possibility that he couldn't sleep for days, just wondering what could have happened to Will. All the scenarios made him sick, and in the end he cried silently until he fell asleep.
Things didn't get any better at school. The taunts, the gossip, and the assumptions that he could have been the cause of his younger brother's death made his throat close up. They made him want to fight back, to scream, to defend Will's honor. But what good would that do? They already hated him enough, they already talked too much, cursed too much, it would only bring more complications, more headaches, more things to worry about, and that would distract him from his main focus.
When his brother's body was found, he didn't cry; he couldn't allow himself that comfort. His mother was unstable, muttering about lights and government conspiracies, and Jonathan couldn't let himself get carried away by her words and assumptions; someone had to take care of things.
The days following the discovery of the body made him shut down his mind and do everything on autopilot. The funeral, the fight with Harrington, getting arrested, discovering the existence of monsters, and even managing to kill one of them in his own home alongside Nancy and Harrington himself, so that in the end they could find the real Will. Everything happened so fast and so suddenly that when he looked up at the cracked ceiling of his own bedroom, observing the slightly faded paint, he finally realized, with a pain in his chest and a dry throat, that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't strong enough. So all he could do was bite his fist hard while crying from exhaustion.
His chest tightened with the pain and despair that had grown over the days he spent thinking Will was dead, his mother going crazy, the bullying, the abuse, Lonnie's return... Everything was shit, everything was too much for Jonathan, and at no point did he cry or allow himself to really give in to the bad emotions that seemed to consume his whole body like a thick fog that enveloped his neck and heart, squeezing, preventing air from entering, making his head dizzy and full of “what if” thoughts. With a stifled sob, Jonathan sat up in bed, his breathing shaky and his ears ringing like static with anxiety consuming his body, causing him to grab his hair tightly and try to pull himself together, try to get back on track. A little voice in the back of his mind was whispering that he should stop before someone in the house woke up and saw him in that state.
The sound of knocking made him blink, now hyperaware of his surroundings. Jonathan glanced around the room quickly before the knocking sounded again, this time more insistent, and all his attention turned to the window. He hesitated for a moment and, wiping the tears from his face forcefully, turned on the lamp and got out of bed. His footsteps made no sound as he approached the makeshift curtain, where he pulled the fabric aside and looked outside.
His eyes blinked in confusion as he watched the person he least expected to see there in the middle of the night, his face dimly lit by the light emanating from the room. Frowning, Jonathan opened the window and put his head outside, his hands on the ledge as he faced none other than Harrington, who looked at him nervously. “Harrington... What are you... Why did you come here?” he asked cautiously, his voice low and hesitant as he looked at him suspiciously, but not as harshly as he thought he would.
Harrington, meanwhile, had a nervous smile on his lips, his hands finally dropping to hide in his coat pockets. “Hi, man, er... Uhm...” Steve looked at him for just a moment before looking away and focusing his attention on the floor. “I came to see how you were doing and... I also came here to apologize.”
Jonathan blinked, the confusion becoming more and more evident as he tilted his head forward to try to get a better look at the older man's face. “You came here to... apologize?” He repeated slowly, and Harrington quickly nodded in response to the other man's question. He absentmindedly licked his cracked lower lip, deliberately ignoring Harrington's earlier statement about coming there to see if he was okay.
“Yeah, man, with all that confusion with that... That creature, or whatever it was, I couldn't apologize to you properly.” He replied, still not looking him straight in the eye, an expression of disgust and pain spreading across his face as he remembered what had happened that day. That certainly wouldn't be forgotten by either of them so easily. “I didn't get a chance to apologize for what I said about you and... And about your brother.” Harrington's cheeks flushed red with shame at the memory. “That beating you gave me was well deserved.”
“Ah...” Jonathan replied without much emotion, his eyes wide with surprise. He had forgotten that Steve had come to his house moments before the monster appeared. His memory was a little hazy, but he could still vaguely remember Harrington knocking on his door, desperate to talk to him. “Yes... I... I remember.”
Byers watched him silently, his eyes fixed on his slightly disheveled appearance, even though he looked much better than Jonathan himself. But despite his appearance, it was his behavior that caught his attention. Steve seemed nervous, his face red with embarrassment, his hands hidden in his coat pockets, probably because of how cold it was that night, and the tips of his shoes kicking the grass beneath his feet. This behavior surprised him a little; it wasn't every day that you saw your tormentor restless and apologizing.
“I...” Jonathan spoke slowly, his voice low, his hands now absentmindedly picking at his cuticles in a nervous gesture, his head bowed in shame. His lips parted to say something, but Harrington intervened first, his voice a little too quick.
“Y-You don't have to accept my apology!” He quickly raised his hands, palms up, as Harrington moved closer to the window. “I... Look, man, I was a fucking asshole. I don't even think I deserve your forgiveness, honestly...” Steve sighed and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes finally focusing on Jonathan's face, and he hesitated when he saw his eyes were slightly swollen and red, as if he had been crying before he arrived. “Were you crying...?”
Jonathan didn't know what surprised him more, the fact that Steve was admitting he had been a jerk and not demanding that he accept his apology, or the fact that he had completely forgotten he had been crying minutes ago.
”That… It’s just... I…” He swallowed hard, suddenly becoming self-conscious about his own appearance, the feeling of being watched so closely making him look away. “It’s just… A lot has been happening, I guess. I'm just tired.“ He muttered in an irritated tone, more to himself than to the older boy in front of him. Shaking his head quickly, Jonathan changed the subject, suddenly feeling very exposed. ”And why did you come here at this hour...? It's... It's past midnight." A pause. “And it's cold out there...” He spoke the last part slowly and cautiously, his hands clenching the railing.
Blinking in surprise, Steve blushed even more than he had before and laughed nervously. His hands rose in a restless movement as he fiddled with his hair, a movement that Jonathan had catalogued in his mind over time because of the number of times he had seen Harrington do this to combat anxiety, distress, restlessness, or irritation. Jonathan didn't know whether he was proud of having noticed this pattern or not.
“Um... I wanted to come right away because... Because...”
“You don't have to answer, Harrington.” Jonathan interrupted him, his voice a little low and hesitant. “Look... I-I'm grateful you came here, even though it's a little late...” He smiled shyly, his eyes still downcast as he continued. “I... I'll think about it, I don't know if I'll forgive you, but... But thank you.” A silence fell, and Jonathan ended up laughing without much humor. “I... I admit I never imagined I'd see you, Steve Harrington, apologizing to me.”
“Let's just say I'm not as bad as you think.” The older man spoke, a slightly silly smile appearing on his lips at Jonathan's little joke. A moment of silence stretched out between them, Steve's eyes never leaving Jonathan's face, his hands now at his sides, his fingers trembling slightly. Swallowing hard, Harrington finally blinked to snap out of his trance and break the awkward silence. “Since that's the case, I think I'll leave...” His voice faltered, almost as if he expected Jonathan to say something, but the younger boy just murmured in agreement as he tilted his head slightly to the side. “See you Monday, and... Um... Good night, Jonathan!”
Steve spoke quickly, walking away before the other boy could properly say goodbye. His tired eyes with dark circles followed Steve to the front of the house where his BMW was parked, the headlights illuminating the ground for a moment before the car finally reversed and drove off toward the road. Jonathan watched everything a little torn, not quite sure how to feel about such a strange conversation.
Steve Harrington had come back to apologize for what he had said, leaving his house in the middle of the night to apologize to Jonathan ‘Freak’ Byers. He didn't know how to feel, but he knew that this little encounter had been a good distraction for his mind, which was now no longer so focused on everything that had happened after Will's disappearance, but rather on what could happen now. No longer focused on the past, but on the future. Jonathan hadn't accepted Harrington's apology, but he was glad to know that the older man at least seemed genuinely sorry, and after they had defeated the monster together, perhaps, in a way, some kind of camaraderie had been created between the two.
Jonathan slowly moved away from the window and returned to bed, that previous anxiety dissipated, and for a brief, small moment, he allowed himself to imagine what Monday would be like. Even though perhaps nothing would really change, Jonathan felt a little hopeful. His eyes focused again on the ceiling, and with a tired sigh, he let himself be carried away into the world of dreams.