[ open rp post! also for continuations from elsewhere / overflow / whatever. drop a prompt here or make me drop a prompt or whatever. please rp with me okay. ]
[ It's weird, considering kids about five years younger than him "friends." But, gun to his head, if he had to point at his best friend right now, it would probably be Dustin Henderson. Jesus. What is his life these days.
He lets out a snort, shaking his head. ]
Look, did you expect anyone to deal with a situation like this? Seriously, man. Monsters and a kid that can kill shit with her mind?
Before that, when Will disappeared. They didn't give up on him, even after they found his... the body. I don't really know how much they knew by then, but even if El wasn't there, I can't imagine it being any other way.
[ Hell, even he'd been ready to give up by that point. But those kids. God. ]
[ It's something, that's for sure. When Barb had disappeared — from his house, no less — and before he'd learned it involved monsters and all that, a pit had firmly settled in his stomach, carving it out bit by bit as it ate at him. When Nancy first came to him about it, he'd deflected out of fear; even when trying to make amends, he still cracked jokes, attempting to make it seem like everything was fine. If he'd been in Dustin and the others' shoes, even before the insanity, he probably would have grinned and forced himself to move on like a coward.
He rolls his head back a bit, looking up at the ceiling. ]
God, I hope they actually get to be kids for a little while.
[ He still doesn't know how Will had managed to stay alive in the Upside Down, and he's not exactly talking about it much. And the only reason why he had been able to hold it together was because of his fixation on family, and first, on finding Will, and then making that monster pay for taking him. Otherwise, he probably just would have given up. Mom, Will, and Nancy. That's what had kept him together. And then Steve, too. It would've all been over if it hadn't been for him coming back inside the house.
He glances down at Steve from the corner of his eye, letting his glass clunk slightly as he puts it down on the end table next to the couch. ]
Me too, they deserve that much. But I hate that they'll have to live with everything that happened at all.
[ Instead of making new Ghostbusters costumes, they get to have nightmares about the Upside Down, and remembering the time that they were hunted by dogs from hell. ]
I think I said it before, but but it's good they have someone like you.
[ It's said with a the ghost of a smile. He's not kissing ass. There's no reason. Besides, too fake.
He reaches down to move the ice and take a look at his foot - it could be better but at least the swelling looks reasonable now, even if the bruising is still really... gross. ]
[ He glances toward the phone, wincing, remembering that no, no he hadn't. He should. Before it gets too late. Also because it seems like there's a snowball's chance in hell that Steve's going to let him go otherwise. ]
I'll do it now?
[ And he reaches for the phone next to him on the couch. ]
[ Yeah, no. Generally, Steve respects adults but stays away from them and doesn't give them much thought. The list of those he actually holds in high regard are few, and Joyce Byers tops that list with ease. ]
Geez. Yeah, you better.
[ With a sigh, Steve pushes himself up, shuffling about to clean up the area, picking up his old beer can and whatnot and leaving Jonathan to it. ]
[ Waiting until Steve is a little further away, though not likely out of earshot, Jonathan picks up the phone and starts to dial his number. He has to wait a minute for his mom to get up from the couch (probably). ]
Hey Mom. Could you come pick me up from Steve's?
[ a beat. ]
I fell.
[ a louder beat, thanks Joyce. At least she's not mad, just worried. As expected. Yes, Jonathan feels guilty. ]
I'm okay, mom, but I don't think I can-- okay, okay. I'll be here.
[ The phone makes a ringing sound when he puts the receiver down. ]
[ Guess it's time to get up then, might as well be waiting. Jonathan takes another look at his ankle before reaching down to remove the ice, placing it on the coffee table. ]
[ Oh yeah, he's totally got this. Or, you know, fake it until you make it. Hard to fake it though when it hurts like hell now that he hasn't been moving it, and getting up and putting his weight on it makes him wince. He has to stand there for a moment, putting his weight on his good foot instead - internally debating how to best approach the whole walking thing.
God, his mom is going to kill him. ]
Yeah, cool.
[ This is actually not, at all, cool, in the slightest. Jonathan takes a tentative step toward the door, hissing under his breath. Does he try again, or does he ask for help? Either is like pulling teeth. He can, at least, admit that this isn't going well. ]
[ Jonathan tenses mostly because he wasn't ready for how suddenly Steve moves to catch him. Throws him off for a second, but he does lean as requested. He doesn't so much as glance at Steve though, keeping his eyes on the floor or on the door. ]
Yeah, yeah. Could've hopped there.
[ On his own. But it would have sucked, and he's not really complaining about Steve's help. He's just stupid for not asking for it in the first place and he knows it. ]
[ He rolls his eyes at his insistence of hopping there and is about to fire off a retort before that "thanks" registers. Steve seems briefly taken aback, glancing over at him, puzzled.
And then, he shakes his head. ]
Yeah. Don't mention it. Someone's gotta cover for your stubborn ass.
[ Jonathan never thought Steve would be the guy covering it though. Things have certainly changed really unexpectedly. But he's already said thanks once. Jonathan just manages a wordless noise in what might be agreement, and they're at the door.
Which he does get open by himself (small victories). Fortunately, Joyce is almost pulling in as they make it outside so it's not like they have to wait in awkward silence for too long. ]
[ Steve manages to flash a smile and a wave as Joyce pulls in, helping Jonathan over to the back. Before he opens the door, he glances over at him. ]
At least tell her about what you did to it, yeah?
[ He'd better.
With a smile, Steve opens the back door— ] Evening, Mrs. Byers! [ — and exchanges pleasantries as he helps ("helps" — as in, does his damnedest to make sure Jonathan isn't putting weight on that stupid ankle like a moron) him in. ]
Edited (why didn't my icon take, damn you dw.) 2019-08-10 20:28 (UTC)
[ "Jonathan! Are you okay?" Joyce exclaims as she cranks the window down. She's almost out the door but can tell that Steve seems to have things in hand, so... ]
I'm okay, mom.
[ and to Steve -- ]
I will...
[ He says, mostly under his breath, because this is awkward enough, focusing on getting in the car.
She smiles, even though she's concerned. "Thank you so much, Steve." Joyce makes a mental note that maybe they should have him over for dinner sometime. As thanks for whatever happened here, and just because... well, his house seems so empty. "Is your seatbelt on, Jonathan?"
Jonathan cranks his window down, letting some air into the back seat, and fumbles with the seatbelt as per his mom's request. ]
I'll put more ice on it when I get home.
[ before Steve has a chance to say anything else about it. ]
[ He pulls back, cracking another grin over at him before he pushes the door shut. With another wave to Mrs. Byers, Steve takes a few steps back, up onto his front porch. Hopefully, Mrs. Byers would fuss over Jonathan endlessly and keep him from doing anything else that would qualify as stupid, allowing his ankle to heal. Hopefully.
He waves again at the car before turning to head back inside. ]
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He lets out a snort, shaking his head. ]
Look, did you expect anyone to deal with a situation like this? Seriously, man. Monsters and a kid that can kill shit with her mind?
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[ Hell, even he'd been ready to give up by that point. But those kids. God. ]
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[ It's something, that's for sure. When Barb had disappeared — from his house, no less — and before he'd learned it involved monsters and all that, a pit had firmly settled in his stomach, carving it out bit by bit as it ate at him. When Nancy first came to him about it, he'd deflected out of fear; even when trying to make amends, he still cracked jokes, attempting to make it seem like everything was fine. If he'd been in Dustin and the others' shoes, even before the insanity, he probably would have grinned and forced himself to move on like a coward.
He rolls his head back a bit, looking up at the ceiling. ]
God, I hope they actually get to be kids for a little while.
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He glances down at Steve from the corner of his eye, letting his glass clunk slightly as he puts it down on the end table next to the couch. ]
Me too, they deserve that much. But I hate that they'll have to live with everything that happened at all.
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[ What had he been doing at age thirteen? Nothing good. ]
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[ Instead of making new Ghostbusters costumes, they get to have nightmares about the Upside Down, and remembering the time that they were hunted by dogs from hell. ]
I think I said it before, but but it's good they have someone like you.
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[ Steve pushes away from the couch, turning to face him. ]
How's that ankle of yours doing? Not swelling up too bad or anything, is it?
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[ It's said with a the ghost of a smile. He's not kissing ass. There's no reason. Besides, too fake.
He reaches down to move the ice and take a look at his foot - it could be better but at least the swelling looks reasonable now, even if the bruising is still really... gross. ]
Define too bad. It's mostly... just purple.
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[ Though— it occurs to him, after a moment— ]
Hey, did you ever call your mom?
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I'll do it now?
[ And he reaches for the phone next to him on the couch. ]
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Geez. Yeah, you better.
[ With a sigh, Steve pushes himself up, shuffling about to clean up the area, picking up his old beer can and whatnot and leaving Jonathan to it. ]
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Hey Mom. Could you come pick me up from Steve's?
[ a beat. ]
I fell.
[ a louder beat, thanks Joyce. At least she's not mad, just worried. As expected. Yes, Jonathan feels guilty. ]
I'm okay, mom, but I don't think I can-- okay, okay. I'll be here.
[ The phone makes a ringing sound when he puts the receiver down. ]
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She on her way?
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[ Guess it's time to get up then, might as well be waiting. Jonathan takes another look at his ankle before reaching down to remove the ice, placing it on the coffee table. ]
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[ Steve takes a step back, crossing his arms as he watches Jonathan carefully. He's totally got it, probably; he doesn't need help from Steve.
but he's hanging out nearby just in case. even though it's fine, really. it's fine. ]
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God, his mom is going to kill him. ]
Yeah, cool.
[ This is actually not, at all, cool, in the slightest. Jonathan takes a tentative step toward the door, hissing under his breath. Does he try again, or does he ask for help? Either is like pulling teeth. He can, at least, admit that this isn't going well. ]
Might be worse than I thought.
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You think? Lean against me, geez.
[ He's not asking. Hell, he's seen what happens when people try walking on injuries like this. ]
Get your weight off of it.
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Yeah, yeah. Could've hopped there.
[ On his own. But it would have sucked, and he's not really complaining about Steve's help. He's just stupid for not asking for it in the first place and he knows it. ]
... Thanks.
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And then, he shakes his head. ]
Yeah. Don't mention it. Someone's gotta cover for your stubborn ass.
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Which he does get open by himself (small victories). Fortunately, Joyce is almost pulling in as they make it outside so it's not like they have to wait in awkward silence for too long. ]
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At least tell her about what you did to it, yeah?
[ He'd better.
With a smile, Steve opens the back door— ] Evening, Mrs. Byers! [ — and exchanges pleasantries as he helps ("helps" — as in, does his damnedest to make sure Jonathan isn't putting weight on that stupid ankle like a moron) him in. ]
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I'm okay, mom.
[ and to Steve -- ]
I will...
[ He says, mostly under his breath, because this is awkward enough, focusing on getting in the car.
She smiles, even though she's concerned. "Thank you so much, Steve." Joyce makes a mental note that maybe they should have him over for dinner sometime. As thanks for whatever happened here, and just because... well, his house seems so empty. "Is your seatbelt on, Jonathan?"
Jonathan cranks his window down, letting some air into the back seat, and fumbles with the seatbelt as per his mom's request. ]
I'll put more ice on it when I get home.
[ before Steve has a chance to say anything else about it. ]
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[ He pulls back, cracking another grin over at him before he pushes the door shut. With another wave to Mrs. Byers, Steve takes a few steps back, up onto his front porch. Hopefully, Mrs. Byers would fuss over Jonathan endlessly and keep him from doing anything else that would qualify as stupid, allowing his ankle to heal. Hopefully.
He waves again at the car before turning to head back inside. ]