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Keeping Secrets Keeps You Safe

Summary:

Steve Harrington has always been different.

He was raised to be polite, observant, and useful. Steve learned how to smile, how to listen, how to blend in, how to use his abilities without ever letting anyone see.

When strange things suddenly occur in Hawkins Steve already recognizes the signs.
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Or a retelling of ST if Steve was a lab experiment.

Notes:

This is my first time writing a work of fiction so I'm sorry if it's not the best and if any of the characters are ooc in any way. Feel free to give any feedback or advice. I just really liked the concept of Steve with powers but I'm not much of a writer so don't expect too much.

The first few chapters will probably just consist of Steve's backstory so this story might run a bit slow.

Tags will be updated as the story goes on but I wanted to include the end game ships.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: A New Life

Chapter Text

1974

Darkness surrounded Seven, wind rushing in his ear as he ran through the tall trees, weighed down by the heavy rain. He struggled to see as the trees and bushes blended together but all he could think was a mantra of: run, Run, RUN. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop running, not for a second, not even after he could no longer hear the loud footsteps that once followed him.

Eventually he reached an area much more confusing than seeing just the trees. Nothing looked familiar. Not the large black lines laid on the ground in front of him or the big, fast moving squares that practically flew by, but he couldn’t let himself stop moving. Liquid ran down his body but Seven couldn’t tell where the water began or where the blood stopped, but he continued to feel the warm feeling of blood dripping out of his ears and nose even as the water cooled his body. His skinny frame, covered only by the long, thin hospital gown dirtied from his escape, walked along the endless black path, following in the direction he saw a shiny brown rectangle going, in hopes it would lead him to safety.

His body ached from the excessive stress he put his body through, vision starting to blur with every attempt to use his powers to find somewhere to rest. Each attempt was unsuccessful, his body slowing down, and eyes drooping heavily. He could feel his body beginning to fail him, almost to the point of hallucination, it was as if he could hear someone shouting in the distance over the rain. Panic filled his mind, feeling his body tilting towards the earth, he could only hope he landed in a bush where the bad men wouldn’t find him.

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Vaguely he could feel his body being lifted, the faint sound of talking, and then a loud beeping sound. Just seconds later he no longer felt hands on his body as his skin was flush against some kind of smooth material. The last thing he heard before slipping back into darkness was a warm, soothing voice he could only assume came from a woman.

“It will be okay,” she said. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he was willing to take the chance, not that he had much of a choice.
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Seven awoke with a gasp, pain spiking through his entire body, especially his head. He couldn’t help but hold his head in his hands, pulling on his buzzed hair to feel some kind of relief. He took a glance around the room, immediately closing his eyes after a quick look around, unable to bear the dizziness he felt when staring at the patterned room, feeling bile build up in his throat.

“Are you awake now sweetie?” That warm voice from last night filled his ears, he jumped back in shock having not sensed her presence and no eyes open to see her coming.

He squints his eyes hoping to see what his abductor looked like. Peeking from behind his arms he was able to hear the pretty lady that (probably) laid him under the fluffy dark blue blankets warming him up. Seven opens his mouth in an attempt to get words out but he simply couldn’t find the words instead opting for a slow nod, still just barely managing to look at the kind looking lady. She approached Seven slowly with her hands in front of her almost as if she was nearing a scared animal, eventually the distance between them closed and she was close enough to touch.

Slowly, she reached towards Seven, pulling his hands away from his hair and followed by caressing his cheeks, guiding his head up to face her.

“Are you okay? Can you talk at all?” Seven responded with a small nod, then a point to his throat.
“Well, that's okay I'll ask more questions later, for now just put your thumb up for yes and thumb down for no. I do not think it would be in your best interest to shake your head too much.” She followed this explanation by moving a hand in time with her words to show Seven what to do, a patient smile never leaving her face. At that Seven put his thumbs up.

“Let’s get some water, okay?” He responded with another thumbs up. The lady got off of the bed, Seven following close behind, putting his hand in hers until they had got to a large room downstairs.

The woman, who he learned to call Iris Harrington, handed him a glass of water and started up her questions once again when they were both seated.

“Is there anyone you want me to call? A family member or hospital?” thumbs down.

“Did you run away from somewhere?” thumbs up.

“Do you think being here with me is safe?” When he answered with another thumbs up, he could tell it made her happy.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” He frowned, thumb down.

“Would you want to stay with me?” That frown quickly turned upside down, giving Iris a thumbs up.

“Do you think you can talk now? Do you have something for me to call you?”

“Se-Seven” Was all he could muster out, voice cracked and whispered.

“Stephen you say? What a nice name. Do you have a last name too?” By now his glass was completely empty and the pounding in his head had faded as he responded with a shake of his head.

“No.” Her smile widened and she stood up making her way to what seemed like a dial attached to her wall.

“From now on you will be a Harrington. Stephen Harrington. Don’t you worry about anything, we will make sure you do not have to return to that bad place again.” Her words were spoken slowly, ensuring Stephen would understand every word.

Stephen stayed in his seat as Iris took a box off of the wall, speaking into it. Papa had always told him not to listen to conversations he was not a part of but he couldn’t help but overhear some of the words in broken sentences.
“I know….last night….Honey I think…..have enough….start over……………..Stop funding…”
To him none of the words had made sense but he recognized that she seemed to be talking to a man named Honey, he soon grew bored of their call when the conversation shifted to business, and instead began to focus on his empty stomach. He didn't just want to wander around the kind lady’s house without permission but not having access to his powers made him feel uneasy even if he didn’t necessarily like using them. The chance of the bad men trying to find him hadn’t left and the chance they try hurting anyone to take him back were nowhere near zero. He didn’t want Iris getting killed for his sake so he took a chance, opting to search for food even if it earnt him punishment for not following her rules.
He looked around for anything that seemed edible, eyes landing on a bright yellow boomerang. His short frame went to stretch to reach the middle of the table to grab what he hoped was food. Once he had it in his hands he walked over to Iris on bare feet holding up the thing he had in his hands.

“I’m on the phone Stephen sweetie, what do you need” she said, putting her hand over the phone to cover it, looking down at him. Stephen pointed towards himself, asking, “eat?”

Iris gave him a small smile, putting the phone between her ear and shoulder continuing her previous conversation, taking the food out of his hand. She peeled it for him, handing it back when a pale inside became fully visible. He took hesitant bites, tasting more flavor than any of the food he was forced to eat back at the lab, savoring the sweet taste.

The next time Stephen looked up at Iris the phone was hung back up on the wall, and she was staring down at him with an expression he could only describe as soft.
“Did you like the banana sweetie?”
“Yes. sweet”

“You like it, yeah? I'll cut up some more fruit for you to try and order in some real food. I'm sure you want to eat something more filling.”

“Yes, more fruit. Please”

“How do you feel about beef and vegetables” Stephen could only look up at her in confusion at the food options she had given him.

“Ah. I guess I'll have to hire you a tutor, my kid deserves only the best after all.”

“Yes Iris”

“From now on call me mom okay sweetie. After we teach you the basics I'll find a way to get you into a school. As of now you will not be able to go outside okay we'll have to come up with a backstory.”

“Yes mom”

The rest of the day Stephen had spent his time eating the delicious food his mother ordered for them, teaching him what each one was called, pointing out the beef from the broccoli and the bright orange veggie called a carrot. He also found a love for the different fruits his mom cut up for him, being especially drawn to the bananas.

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After one more day of rest Stephen's body felt recovered and more energized than ever before. Who knew eating a lot of food would give you so much energy. When he woke up in the same bed from the day before, he couldn't help but to use his powers to ensure they hadn't magically disappeared somehow. He got off of the bed walking towards the desk in the corner of his new room. Carefully, he picked up a pen, twisting it around in his hand, taking off the cap to get a better look. Closing his eyes, focusing on the object in his hands, he concentrated, feeling the pen in his hand double. Reopening his eyes, he saw two identical pens laying on his palms.

Two sharp knocks stirred him back to reality, “Are you awake Steph? Can I come in?”

“Gosh.” Stephen clenched the pens tightly in surprise, slightly jumping at the noise. Quickly, he dropped the pens back onto the table, rushing towards the door, opening it to face his mom. “Steph?”

“Yeah! It's a nickname, like sweetie! Do you not like it?”

“Yes. I like it. Did you need me?”

“Oh well I thought we could eat breakfast together and we could talk some more about how this was going to work”

“Yes mom. I'll meet you downstairs”

She was already on her way down the stairs by the time he finished talking. He took this time to fix the bed, lifting his hands to push the blankets up, fluffing the pillows, counting his victory when he felt no pain in his head.

The relief settled knowing his abilities were still working and he made his way downstairs to see his mom sitting at the kitchen table with pancakes stacked in the middle of the table and a woman standing near the stove that he didn't recognize.

“Steph sweetie there you are, I want you to meet someone.” She turned towards the short lady with thick glasses. “This is your new nanny, well not really, she works as a teacher but I hired her to give you basic education to prepare you for school. Just refer to her as ma'am.”

After the short introduction, mom rushed her out of the house to go over a few rules with Stephen in secret. She didn't have many rules to follow, but she made sure he remembered each one, engraving each rule into his mind:
Do not leave the house under any circumstances unless mom deems it allowed
Never make any phone calls and only respond to phone calls if you hear mom's voice
Do not mention anything about his past under any circumstances
Do not enter the office at the far end of the hall
Act normal
He knew he was strange, but he had nothing to base being “normal” off of, it made rule five the hardest to follow. Luckily, after their long conversation, going over his backstory and repeating the five rules back to him six times, his mom led him to the basement where there was a wall full of books and tapes on many different topics. She told him he would spend the day watching movies since he wasn't educated enough to read just yet so he would learn through the moving pictures captured on the tapes.

The remainder of the day was spent with the two watching a plethora of movies ranging from all American boys to sci-fi horror. Every word he didn’t recognize he asked his mom about and she would patiently explain every word and every expression until he completely understood their meanings. It was enjoyable. She especially made it a point to talk in fluent sentences and not the short, choppy way he had been speaking to her before. The two didn’t do much else, his mother pointing out different characters for him to mimic to “become worthy of the Harrington name”. All of the people she pointed at seemed to… contradict each other a lot, first bringing attention to “nerds” with amazing grades and hearts of gold, then to jocks with masculine physiques, usually having bad grades but being extremely popular. He almost didn’t understand what she wanted from him until she made it clear which characteristics she wanted him to copy: Smart, strong, outgoing, popular, and kind.

She expected him to get this new personality down by the new school year, when he’ll finally be allowed outside. The last movie had finished by nine three zero, which mom reminded him was actually nine thirty. By then it had been late but mom had been able to order food called salad. It was okay.

Everyday after that started a routine. Without mom. Just the next day mom had been standing at the front door with a big red luggage, dressed up in nice clothing and skinny glasses he hadn’t seen her wear the past two days. He could tell it meant goodbye if the movies from last night were true, but there was no tragic “goodbye” or hug, just a distant smile and a wave as she walked out the door.

Days following consisted of the same pattern: waking up, opening the door for Ma’am, being taught new information, never the same, just Stephen being expected to understand, apply and move on. And he did. Math came the easiest. After only three problems he copied the methods and executed perfectly, correct answers on every worksheet. They started with counting up to a thousand, then basic addition and subtraction, then multiplying numbers in the thousands, followed by fractions and decimals. All of it came easy to him. Science came next, memorization of different plants and animals, understanding the flow of energy, the weather, matter, and ecosystems.

History and English came the hardest, sentences blurred together, meaning slipping away unless he focused until his head was pounding. When Ma’am read aloud, it was easier, everything made more sense. But reading and writing on his own became his worst nightmares unless he was given an extra hour or heard the text beforehand. Writing took the longest. Stephen knew the answers before his pencil touched the paper, but his hand couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. Letters came out uneven. He erased until the page grew thin. Stephen understood numbers and the way the world functions. Words were the issue, but he couldn’t afford that, the Harrington name deserved only the best.

In his free time he watched more movies, sometimes foreign, learning new languages to make up for his inability to read English, listening to the German, Italian, French, and Russian spoken by the characters on screen. He asked Ma’am to teach him how to cook so he would no longer have to rely on the take out she brought, instead asking her to bring groceries.

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Five months in, Ma'am had claimed she had nothing more she could teach him, that her credentials only went up to a 6th grade education. Instead, she focused on expanding his hobbies, bringing him different musical instruments like a guitar, drums, and teaching him how to play the grand piano in the living room. It gave him something to do, it distracted him from the fact he was still stuck inside just like he was back in the lab. But it was better here, he wasn’t being locked in a dark room if he didn’t show papa his powers, food had more flavor, and no one was poking at him with needles or giving him different pills in hopes of strengthening his powers. He felt better and his powers seemed stronger than they ever had after an injection. For some reason he felt as if he could do more, more than just make soda cans float like he had seen one of the other numbers do when passing by their room, and more than just make copies of bananas before they ran out.

He was currently on the couch playing a song ma’am had taught him, somewhat distracted. He thought back to an odd movie he watched, revolving around identical children with blonde hair. He thought back to their abilities and what they had done, curious to see if he could copy them. Stephen looked over to Ma’am, stopping his fingers from strumming another note.

“Are you okay Stephen? Is something wrong?” She looked over to him, staring him in the eyes. With her attention on him he focused, feeling a pounding in his head that only ever happened when he overused his power.

“Get me a banana.” He said in a monotone voice, eyebrows scrunching. From a distance it almost seemed as if her eyes flashed a white color for a second before she got up without a word, walking into the kitchen, then returning with a banana as if she were in a trance.

He took the fruit from her hand, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you Ma’am.”

At that she jolted back a little, seeming a little surprised to be so close to Stephen all of a sudden but nonetheless responded with, “You’re welcome.”

He almost couldn’t believe it had worked but he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for taking advantage of Ma’am for what he had done. The idea that his powers weren’t limited to making things float and copying objects scared him but it was useful. Nothing bad had happened yet but the bad men could always come back, if that happened he wanted mom safe. Even if that meant using powers he had been punished all his life for being born with.

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A week later mom came back and ma’am never returned. There was no call. He hadn't gotten a message of any kind, not even from Ma’am for any warning that she was coming back to the house. It was completely uncalled for, he wasn’t expecting her until a year had passed, leaving at least two hundred eight days left.

“Steph sweetie! I’m home with your father!” Was what he heard from the kitchen while making himself a sandwich waiting for Ma’am to finally come. When he saw her turn into the kitchen Stephen felt a strong urge to run up and hug her much like the movies they watched together that first night.

Though they hadn’t really known each other he missed her. Sandwich forgotten, he walked up to her slowly, giving his best smile, biggest even, to the point it hurt his cheeks, “Hello mom.”

Behind her stood a man that looked vaguely familiar, but not in a way that meant they had met before. He introduced himself as Daniel Harrington, his new father.

“Your nanny told me how well your progress had been going so we thought it would be best if we enroll you for this upcoming school year. Your father and I were able to get you a birth certificate and adoption papers too. You’ll finally be able to go outside now that everything is official.” Hearing that Stephen’s eyes widened, staring up at his mom in wonder.

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but ask. The last time he was able to feel the heat of the sun was through a window with the curtains drawn shut. The pool in their back yard went unused the entire time he’s been here because he couldn’t even risk going out back where no neighbors could possibly see into their yard. The only contact he had was with Ma’am if you don’t count the birds that would fly by his windows occasionally in the morning.

“Yes Stephen, by late August you will be able to attend school. You will be enrolled into 3rd grade and have contact with people your age. You will be expected to live up to a certain standard and there will be new rules for you to follow.” Stephen couldn’t help the excitement he felt despite the monotone voice father spoke to him in. He was willing to do anything to finally be let out, he felt a little like Rapunzel from the book he read, as if school were the Northern lights he had always longed to see.

“We have much to talk about sweetie, let's go over to the coach to talk over our new rules.” The three of them walked over to the couch, sitting down to continue their conversation. The house was still just as bland as it had been when he first arrived and Stephen could almost tell who’s fault it was.

Father got straight down to business, leaving no room for pleasantries. The new rules seemed just as easy to follow as the first batch, in practice at least. Most of the rules seemed the same but the removal of one rule made him especially joyous. Unlike the first time, rules were not repeated to him, Father did not seem very keen on it, and once he had finished giving Stephen the run down he immediately went up stairs to the room at the end of the hall which he now assumed was his personal office. However, Stephen only needed the rules said to him once:
Do not mention anything about his past under any circumstances
Do not enter the office at the far end of the hall
Act normal
Grades must never fall below an A
Never disgrace the Harrington name

“I am sure you are very excited sweetie, but there is something you will need to know.”

“Yes mom?”

“Your father and I will be leaving again in about a week, we will make sure to send you money to pay for food, clothes, and anything else you might need. Understand?”

“Yes mom. I understand.”

“Perfect! Once your father finishes some work up, we will be going around the town. You will have to bike everywhere like the other kids so you will have to get used to where everything is. While we are out you will be meeting some new people so make sure to treat them with respect.”

“Yes mom.”

“During a conversation remember eye contact and a pleasant tone. Always listen when someone speaks, even if it does not sound interesting. Remember everything even if it sounds irrelevant.”

“Why?”

“Because sweetie, one day it could be useful to you and make sure to be polite to everyone, it will put you on their good side, could help you one day in the future if you ever need a favor or two.”

“But what if I don’t like them?”

“You do not need to like them sweetie, you just need them to like you”

“But what if they don’t deserve to be polite to?”

“Then you better be sure of it. You do not get to be careless with people unless you can prove you are right, you make sure you have facts, witnesses, or leverage to back it up.”
Her voice stays firm as she stares into Stephen’s eyes unblinking.
“The moment you are wrong or the moment someone decides to disagree you become the problem. And I will not have that.”
A beat of silence passed by. A familiar smile returning to her face.

“Until you know how to protect yourself properly, you stay polite. You listen. You let them underestimate you.”

“Yes mom.” Every word she spoke seemed as if it was from experience, almost as if she knew he needed a reason to be underestimated, nonetheless the advice was greatly appreciated.
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By early August, Stephen had a bright blue bicycle his father bought as a welcoming gift, making a big show of it at the shop for all to see. They hadn’t stayed long enough to teach him how to ride, but he learned quickly enough by watching the other kids pedal toward the pool on scorching-hot days.
Now that he could leave the house freely, he took every opportunity to ride around town. Being outside made him happier than he’d been in a long while—no longer limited to the same rooms, the same objects, the same routines. He liked the wind in his hair. He liked the feeling of movement. He liked that the world felt bigger.
He knew he was lucky. His parents were wealthy, generous with their money, and uninterested in how he used it. His mother had entrusted him with a credit card, tucked neatly into a small leather wallet, promising to refill it monthly.

The problem was that Stephen had no real understanding of what things cost.

When a bank teller informed him there was roughly a thousand dollars on it, he blinked at her and asked if that was a lot.
She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Damn straight, kid.”

Stephen smiled politely. “Thank you, miss.”

He left immediately after.

With nowhere in particular to go, Stephen climbed back onto his bike and started pedaling, waving at shopkeepers he recognized, memorizing storefronts he’d already learned to love.

Hunger eventually settled in his stomach, sharp and insistent, steering him toward Benny’s Burgers.

The regulars were already in their usual seats. Near one of the tables, a boy about his age ran in tight circles, a toy plane clutched in his hand and speckled with brown sprinkles. The moment he noticed Stephen, he froze.

Stephen ignored him and headed for the table he’d quietly claimed a week ago. When he felt eyes on him, he assumed it was Benny.

It wasn’t.

“Hey! I’m Tommy, Tommy Hagan!”

The boy scrambled into the seat across from him without asking.

“I’m Stephen. Stephen Harrington.” He offered his hand, smile polite but restrained.

Tommy shook it violently, his whole shoulder moving with the effort. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”

“My name is Stephen.”

“Yeah, but Steve’s cooler. Look” He shoved the toy plane forward. “My dad bought this for me.”

“It’s… nice,” Stephen said. “And blue.”

“Bet you wish you had one.”

Stephen almost rolled his eyes. Almost.

“Yeah, Tommy,” he said instead. “I guess I do.”

Thankfully he didn’t have to talk to him much longer as Benny showed up to take his order. He got the same thing he had gotten every other he came to this delightful establishment until Sprinkle boy bud in, “Get him a milk shake too, vanilla!”

“Coming right up Steph.”

Looking back towards Tommy, he stared at him in disbelief. “You know I have to pay for that right? What if I don’t like it.”

“Well you will and if you don’t I'll take it and just have my dad pay for it.” He says waving his hand around like it was no big deal. Though Stephen had no real issue with paying for a milkshake he didn’t like that this rando had taken that choice from him.

Much to his chagrin, Tommy continued talking, and when he looked over to the man Tommy was previously annoying, he saw him caught up in a conversation with some other man. He had no choice but to listen to the boy’s ranting but as time passed by the words never ceased and Sprinkle’s smile never fell, he couldn’t help but grow more comfortable, a small smile creeping its way onto his face.

“You have a pretty nice smile Tommy” The named boy froze at the compliment, his cheeks seeming to grow a pinkish hue.

“You can’t just say things like that Steve, people will think you’re a fag.” For the first time since they started talking Tommy spoke quietly.

At the warning Steve matched his volume, whispering, “What's a fag?”

“You don’t know? It's a gay person.” Steve’s confusion only grew hearing another one syllable word. Tommy obviously realized he didn’t know what that word meant either if his eyebrows rising even higher was anything to go by. “You don’t know what gay means either?”

“No. Sorry” He almost lowered his head in shame knowing a kid his age knew such a popular word that he had no knowledge of.

“No need to apologize, it's not like it's important or anything.” Well now Steve felt less bad and just as Tommy was about to continue Benny had shown up with his cheeseburger, fries, and vanilla milkshake.

“Hope you like it kid, since it’s your first, I’ll give it to you on the house. My treat.” He gave a final smile before walking back towards the kitchen.

Once again confusion flooded his mind, “It means he’s giving it to you for free.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t seem to control your face very well, has anyone ever told you that? What he said, ‘on the house’? It means you don’t have to pay him for it.”

“Oh, thank you then.”

“Yeah well, I felt a little bad since you don’t have any parents to tell you otherwise.”

Steve felt his face shift, eyebrow furrowing, mouth slightly agape staring at Tommy in aghast. “I have parents!”

“Are you sure man, cause I don’t see any adults with you.”

“They just work a lot”

“Yeah sure.” Steve had smiled, thinking he’d gotten Tommy to understand but the eye roll he was given straight after told him otherwise. When he had given the boy another look of disbelief he laughed in his face having to explain how sarcasm worked.

More time passed, words continuing to spill from Tommy’s mouth as Steve worked his way through his fries, the milkshake left untouched at his side. Tommy talked about everything: school, the arcade, the pool, how his dad said Hawkins was “boring but safe,” which Tommy apparently thought was an insult.

Steve mostly listened. He nodded when appropriate, hummed in acknowledgement, and stored information away unconsciously. It was easier than trying to steer the conversation. Easier than correcting him.

Eventually, a loud voice cut through the diner
“Tommy! C’mon, we’re headin’ out.”

The man standing near the door looked tired, jacket slung over one shoulder, keys already in hand. Tommy groaned dramatically, slumping in his seat.
“Aw, dad, just five more minutes.”

“Nope. Your mom’s waitin’.”

Tommy slid off the booth and stood there for a moment, suddenly unsure. He glanced at Steve, then back at his dad, then back again.
“I gotta go,” he said, quieter than before.

Steve nodded. “Okay.”

Tommy hesitated, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “You come here a lot?”
“Yes,” Steve answered honestly.

Tommy grinned, sharp and satisfied. “Good. I’ll find you again then.”

Steve blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I will though,” Tommy interrupted, already backing away. “Hawkins isn’t that big.”

Before Steve could respond, Tommy jogged back to his dad, who gave Steve a brief, curious look before ushering his son out the door.
The bell chimed as it closed behind them.

Steve sat there for a moment longer, staring at the empty seat across from him. Then he looked down at the milkshake, finally lifting it and taking a small sip.

Vanilla.

It was good.