Chapter Text
Steve Harrington was never good at school.
Actually, no, scratch that. He was great at school, at the whole hallways, and friends, and sports part of it, anyway.
He was never good in class.
Having to sit quietly and be still for hour after hour of people talking at him felt impossible. It's not like he didn't try, not like he wanted to be a screwup, but his brain refused to cooperate. Two minutes in, and his mind started itching for something else to do, something to think about, anything to keep himself busy. He ended up missing a lot of whatever the teacher was saying, which was often important information that ended up in the final test.
So when Robin suggested they become the hosts of Hawkins's hottest new radio show, needless to say it sounded like hell on Earth to him. (And he's been to hell).
However, Robin had been as so excited about being the "cerebro" of their operation, and Nancy had been so hopeful to find Vecna with their help, and even Dustin had showed some mild excitement at the challenge of setting up the antena and getting the old station working once more (which was more than he'd gotten out of the kid in months). So Steve just couldn't find it in himself to say "no".
He figured, as long as he was doing it with his best friend, even being locked in a glass box and unable to speak for hours would be bearable.
He didn't expect to like it. He didn't expect to be good at it.
If someone asked (not that anyone will) he couldn't explain what it is about that booth. The closest thing he can come up with is: it feels like being on the court. It's like sports, but not really. He's moving, he's on edge, he's got something important to do. Robin speaks a million miles an hour, and he has to focus on her every word. What's more, he has to be one step ahead, to guess where she's going in her next sentence before even she does to prepare the sound effects in advance. He's running around, strategizing, staying focused. He's nailing it. He's in the zone.
Which is why he misses the superpowered teen standing in their lobby until Robin (still talking into the mic) starts smacking him on the shoulder.
Shit.
They've been so careful all these months, so paranoid and dedicated to not showing their hand to the military, that if Eleven Hopper is here without them having called a meeting, it has to be an emergency.
Robin shortens her speech, Steve rushes to keep up with her, and puts on Eye Of The Tiger before cutting the mic. They both walk out, serious, their mood shifting in perfect sync; they go from radio hosts to warriors in between heartbeats.
"What's wrong?" Steve asks right away.
Eleven frowns, like she doesn't understand the question. With her, there's always a chance she did not understand it, and Steve is never one to blame or judge her for it. After all, half the time, he is the one lost.
"Is something wrong? What happened? Where's Hopper?" He casts his eyes over her shoulders, looking for the old man who's become the kid's eternal shadow.
"Not here," she shrugs. "He went with Murray for a supply run."
"Right. Shit," Robin whispers under her breath. "Do you need us to get a message for him? I could-"
"No."
Eleven cuts Robin off dryly. Insistently.
The older teens share a confused look.
"So... you just came here because..." Robin prompts.
"I need to talk. To you," she says, all serious, all business, all big brown eyes set on him.
Steve arches his eyebrows, holding back the instinct to take half a step back. Something about Eleven unnerves him. He remembers himself at her age. He was an idiot. He never looked that serious, never had that clarity, that heaviness; it doesn't feel right. She should be getting drunk at someone's backyard party.
"Me?"
"You," she nods.
Robin shoots him a look.
What's up with her? Her eyes say.
How would I know? He shoots back, arching his eyebrows again.
Do you wanna talk to her? She says with a small frown.
Do I have an alternative? He blinks.
I can make an excuse, she offers with a minuscule movement of her eyebrows.
It's fine. I can handle a kid, even if she has superpowers, he tries to convey with a twist of his mouth and a small shrug.
"Okay, song's almost over, so I'm gonna... you know... yeah..." Robin points at the booth with both thumbs, backing away slowly and then all but sprinting for the door.
Steve just stands there. Eleven does too. He balances his weight a little, waiting. She's unnaturally still.
"Okay, so..." he shoves his hands into his pockets.
Eleven turns around and heads for the back office. He follows.
Luckily, Nancy and Jonathan aren't working today. Firstly, because that way he doesn't need to explain what's going on (which he doesn't understand) as he kicks them out of the room. Secondly, because that way he doesn't have to feel like, again, he's intruding like a thorn on both their sides with his presence and his inconvenient feelings.
He closes the door behind him and crosses his arms.
"Okay, so what's going on? What's with the whole cloak and dagger thing?"
"Cloak and dagger?"
"It's a saying about- actually, I don't know. Whatever. My point is, what's with all the secrets? What do you need?"
Eleven bites her lower lip and looks away, hesitating. For the first time today, she looks her age. It lasts only a second until she seems to make up her mind. She looks up at him again and any doubt is gone from her face as she says:
"I need you to train me."
He's pretty sure his brain just malfunctioned.
"Me? I- I don't know how any of your..." he gestures at her wildly "your magic juju works."
"It's not magic."
"Same difference. I don't know shit about it."
She huffs, frustrated, bouncing on her feet with anger, a teenager again. An annoyed teenager, at that. God, no wonder she and Dustin are friends.
"It's not that. It's... Lucas said... Lucas said you helped him train. For his basketball trials last year."
Steve blinks. "You wanna try for the basketball team?"
It makes no sense. She's not even going to school. Hell, she shouldn't even be out of the house without Hop. How's she gonna do the games? Not that they are going to play against other schools right now, with the whole lockdown in place.
"No," she says slowly. "I'm training to kill Vecna. I want you to help me."
"Kill Vecna?"
"Train to kill Vecna."
Steve runs a hand through his hair.
"I don't know how I could help with that."
Eleven throws her head backwards, staring at the ceiling, and paces around the room.
"Hop set up a course, an obstacle course, to help me train. He said... He said if I make it under twelve and a half minutes, he will let me come with him to the Upside Down and try to kill Vecna. But I have been training for months and I can't."
"What's your time?" He asks reflexively.
"Fourteen minutes, thirty-seven seconds."
He winces.
"I was getting better at first. Every day. A few seconds less. But now... I'm not getting better."
"That makes sense. When you start training, it's normal to get better quickly. Then you plateau, you need to change strategy, target different things to improve, push yourself harder," he's thinking out loud (a bad habit he's picked up from Robin). "You'd need a proper training plan if you wanna reach twelve thirty."
She's looking at him intensely.
"Wait, wait, wait. And you want me to help you with this?"
Eleven nods.
"Does Hopper know about this?"
Eleven shakes her head.
"Why not?"
"He's... weird about it. I think he doesn't want me to come."
On one hand, Steve gets it. He doesn't want Eleven to go face a bunch of men with guns, either, superpowers or not. He looks at her and she's just like Dustin, like Lucas, like Mike, like Max. She's a kid. He'd throw himself between her and a demogorgon as much as he would for any of the others.
On the other... well, he's pretty sure they cannot win this once and for all without her. She's their best shot. They need her, and she wants to fight. And he knows a thing or two about wanting to fight back to protect the people you love.
"Fine."
She smiles.
"No, no, don't give me that look. If we're doing this, I'm telling you the exact same thing I told Lucas: you have to take it seriously, okay? When we are training, I'm not your buddy, I'm not your babysitter, I'm your coach, okay? What I say goes, whether you like it or not. And you have to actually listen to me and put in the work, because I've got enough going on here and if you're gonna get me working extra hours, I'm not gonna be wasting my time."
Eleven nods, vehemently. He probably doesn't even need this speech with her, but it feels good saying it, like he's regaining some control, like he can go back into Captain Harrington mode.
"First of all: if Hopper finds out about this, you gotta tell him it was all your idea. I'm not looking forward to getting my ass beaten by your old man, okay? But, most of all, he's not gonna find out."
"He's out every weekend with Murray to scavange supplies," Eleven provides.
"Fine, then we're working on the weekends. Early. Saturday morning, six o'clock, I'll see you at the cabin."
Lucas groaned and whined when Steve pulled that move on him. Eleven only nods, again, with military discipline. It makes him a little sad.
"Good. Now... where is this obstacle course?"
"The junkyard."
"Alright... let me check that Robin's good on her own here and we can go check it out."
"Why?"
"Rule number one: don't question me," he points at her, all stern, like he remembers his coach back in school. "If I'm gonna help you beat this thing, I wanna know what we are up against."
"Vecna."
"The obstacle course," he corrects. "We are focusing on that for now."
"Okay."
Steve's already regretting this as he walks out and off to tell Robin the wild news: he just became the Chose One's coach.