To Thaw and Burst into Bloom

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39323184.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Relationship: Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Steve Harrington/Maxine
"Max" Mayfield, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Billy Hargrove (mentioned)
Character: Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove (mentioned)
Additional Tags: Unrequited Crush, (though it could be requited if you squint), Suicide
Attempt, Mouth-to-Mouth, Talking To Dead People, Emotional
Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Some Humor, Closure, Friendship/Love, One
Shot
Series: Part 1 of Steve & Max
Stats: Published: 2022-05-30 Words: 3074

To Thaw and Burst into Bloom

by musicboxmemories (KendraLuehr)

Summary

Unable to keep her head above water, Max turns to the one person who makes her feel safe.

Notes

Warning: There is a failed suicide attempt at drowning in this fic. If that sort of thing
bothers you, please proceed with caution!

See the end of the work for more notes

Max had always loved winter – the ethereal silence after a snowfall, boundless silver dollar skies,
and miles of pure, powdered white that somehow made things seem less intolerable, less ugly. But
now, winter only reminded her of death.

The bleaker months caused the warm, vibrant blooms of spring and summer to shrivel up, decay
and rot. How ironic, she mused, that the one season she’d felt the most alive now reminded her of
how she was dead – of how a part of her had died with Billy in Starcourt.

Over and over, she replayed that fated day in her head, and over and over, she came up with the
same revelation: she was to blame.

Deep down, Max knew she’d hated him – she hated him, she hated him! – and yet the moment
Billy was flayed, she’d seen in him a vulnerability: the scared little boy beholden to Neil’s bidding.
That was the tie that bound them, and perhaps with time, they could’ve been friends. Max resented
that she was robbed of never knowing. Perhaps if she’d only tried to help Billy, perhaps if she’d
tried to stop Neil, her stepbrother wouldn’t have felt the need to face such an impossible task alone.
And now she was alone. It was her penance.

The whispered I’m sorry to a grave – to a cold, impersonal slab rather than her living, breathing
stepbrother – wasn’t closure. How was she supposed to heal? How could she close that wound
when any time she shut her eyes, she could envision the blood pouring from Billy’s mouth; could
hear his agonizing screams?

The truth was, Max was tired of living this way. She didn’t want to die, but by God, she didn’t
think she could live. To be constantly haunted, tormented, was no way of life, and even though her
friends tried to help, they just didn’t understand.

But someone else could.

Steve Harrington… She’d never thought much of him, truth be told, but the longer Max spent time
around him, the more she realized he bore similar scars. He wasn’t smacked around or considered
trailer trash, but he certainly knew what it was like to come from a shitty family. His dad was
absentee. Mr. Harrington was always away on big, fancy business trips, and his mom…well, she
seemed to just do whatever her shitty husband commanded, so if she did have Steve’s best interests
at heart, she sure as hell didn’t show it.

Licking her dry, chapped lips, Max shakily picked up her phone and dialed Steve’s number. She’d
never admit to herself just why she memorized it after only a matter of hours, but she liked him –
she trusted him – and right now, in order to be talked down from these dizzying heights, she
needed the only other person who could understand.

The first ring nearly drilled through her heart. Pulse quickening, she squirmed and exhaled as
another ring sounded, and then another and another. He wasn’t answering.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Steve…”

After the final ring, the answering machine picked up, and Max’s heart plummeted into her
stomach. But rather than hang up, as was her first instinct, she drew a breath and blurted, “Steve, if
you get this, I…I really need…I-I’m going to be at Lover’s Lake.”

Fumblingly, she hung up, tears blinding her vision as she steeled her resolve. The last time she’d
been there, the water had been half-frozen. No one went to Lover’s Lake this time of year – it was
too cold. And if she walked out onto the ice, she would surely drown…

The woods were quiet with the kiss of snowfall. However, it wasn’t the soft, hauntingly beautiful
peace Max was accustomed to. Any time she moved, she could hear him – Billy – and with a lump
in her throat, she moved to the edge of Lover’s Lake and assessed the thin sheet of ice. The edges
seemed sturdy enough, but the middle was weaker and less supportive of one’s weight. She would
walk out there, she decided.

Curling her hands into fists, Max lifted her chin and took her first step out onto the lake. Nothing
happened. Heart drumming inside her chest, her breath quickened and she took another step and
then another, tears forming along her lashes and nearly burning her eyes from the intense cold.

“Max.”

She jolted then, startled, and tears swam over her vision once Billy appeared in the middle of the
lake. He lifted a hand to her, holding it palm facing upward, and he gave her an encouraging nod.

A part of Max knew this wasn’t real – how could it be? – but eager for that validation, eager for
that self-punishment, she continued on in her quest of martyrdom, her own hand reaching out as she
shivered and tasted bile.

“Hey, you little shit-bird, hurry it up, yeah? I’m freezing my nuts off.”

Billy’s tone was whimsically playful, and Max saw in his eyes the warm pride she’d always
yearned for.

“I’m coming,” Max promised, though there was a twinge of doubt while she approached. The ice
was slick, but her tiny, shuffling steps kept her from toppling onto her backside.

“C’mon,” Billy encouraged. “There’s so much I wanna show you.”

Beneath her steps, the chilling sound of cracking ice slowly hairline fractured along the surface.
She stumbled to a stop, uncertain, before looking to her stepbrother imploringly.

Again, Billy held out his hand. “C’mon, dipshit,” he entreated. “I really think you’ll like it here.”

Bolstered by his almost playful plea, Max nodded and started stepping forward again, one foot
after the other. The thin gap spiderwebbed across the ice, shivering beneath her weight, but she
didn’t tear her weeping eyes away from her gesturing stepbrother.

“Max.”

Yeah, I’m coming…

“Max!”

She hesitated at that, cocking her head. Billy’s voice had sounded distorted, warped, and amidst
the warmth, there had been a panicked spike in his intonation…the sound of a boy – correction, the
boy – she would know even in a crowd of one million.

“MAX!”

“Steve?” Dizzily, she turned her head toward the frantic shouting, only to blink once she spotted
him at the lake’s edge, waving his arms and trying to get her attention.

“Hey! Hey!” he called. “Don’t you move, alright? I’m coming out there!”

Max swiveled towards him, the momentum putting too much pressure on the precarious surface.
The ice gave out, and with a startled shriek, she plummeted straight through into the freezing void.
All at once, water whooshed over her ears and muffled Steve’s horrified shouts, her arms and legs
flailing once the terrifying darkness enveloped her in its snare.

She wanted to live – she wanted to live! Her friendship with Billy was what she wished was real,
but Steve…he was real. What they had was real, and she had to fight for that.

With breath burning in her lungs, Max pressed her palms against the ice, attempting to blindly find
her way back toward where she’d fallen through. Overhead, she could feel vibrations from
movement along the surface, and she realized amidst her mounting panic that it must be Steve.
What if he fell through, too? She wasn’t worth this, she wasn’t, she wasn’t!

More cracks seared through the ice. The sight of pale skylight seeping in made her gasp on
impulse, the fatal mistake causing her to choke on the icy water and swallow it down into her
lungs. The freezing temperature made her teeth ache and her esophagus spasm, and with her limbs
thrashing helplessly, she found herself coughing and choking and welcoming more of that cold,
cold water into her lungs.

Unable to quit inhaling, Max was soon overcome by shock and twitched to a stop, her vision
twisting, wavering, and ultimately fading out into a sea of black.

Whenever Max regained consciousness, she was barely breathing. She was dizzy, disoriented, and
with her bleary vision going in and out of focus, she soon realized she felt cold everywhere except
her mouth…

Squinting in confusion, Max tried to speak, but once again, an urgent pressure edged into her lips
and cut her off as hot, quick puffs of air passed into her lungs. She could smell Steve’s familiar
cologne – a warm, earthy scent – and while she moved to touch his face, he withdrew just as a
volley of lake water spewed from her lips.

Coughing and sputtering, Max rolled over onto her side and gasped, her mouth gaping wide as she
choked and curled up into a ball.

“Hey,” Steve soothed, his hand passing over her cheek, “you’re alright now. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you… He didn’t even know the half of it.

Panting heavily, Max lifted a trembly hand and pushed back a loosened lock of sodden hair. “W-
what…w-what…?”

“Try not to talk,” Steve encouraged. “I’m going to take you back to your house, okay? Nod once
for yes.”

Despite the direness of their situation, Max had to grin. “I’m not…I-I’m not mute, d-d-dingus.”

Steve grinned too. “Alright, Little Miss Smartypants, you might not be mute, but you are shivering
like a…a thing that shivers a lot.”

“A l-l-leaf,” she supplied.

“Yeah, sure, that works.” Slinging her arm across his broad shoulders, Steve carefully helped Max
to her feet, and then started steering her in the direction of his car. “Can you walk?”

She squinted up at him. “How…h-how come you’re not sh-shivering, too?”

“Because I’ve got a heart of ice,” Steve replied. “That Foreigner song was written about me, from
what I understand.” With a sigh, he nudged her. “Seriously, kid, can you walk or not?”

Max drew up, affronted. She was not a kid. “You’re only th-three years older th-than me.”
“Yeah, and according to those three years, I can boss you around any time I want. And right now, I
need to get you back home again.” Expression softening, he halted in his tracks, then moved to lift
her up into his arms.

Max nearly squeaked from the shift, startled by the sudden momentum, but ultimately didn’t
complain about his adamance. He was stronger than he looked – his arms were warm and inviting
– and resting her head down upon his shoulder, she felt her body succumb again as she drooped
into his embrace.

Mercifully, nobody was home when they arrived. Max had never really invited anyone over before,
and with her chin pointed downward, she showed Steve inside more for the sake of necessity rather
than acquiescence.

“Get out of those clothes,” he commanded. “As cute as the whole ‘bedraggled cat’ look is, if you
stay in those wet threads any longer, you could get seriously sick.”

Max looked up at him, a slight pink nipping at her cheeks. The cold could easily account for her
blush, but she still felt far too visible, too seen beneath his concerned, all-encompassing gaze.
She’d never noticed how large and brown his eyes were…how they reminded her of dew-speckled
tree bark – the first signs of life after a winter thaw.

Steve gestured. “Sooo, are you gonna go change, or what?”

“Er…yeah. Sorry.” By this point, Max had thankfully stopped shivering (the miracle of heated cars
did wonders), and chewing her lip, she appraised him again before turning and rushing off toward
her room. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was so stupid for acting this way! Steve was just a boy. A
very cute, very sweet boy who always knew just what to say, but that was beside the point. If she
could help everyone defeat the mindflayer, she could certainly defeat a silly crush.

And yet…it wasn’t silly. Steve made her feel safe. It had been so long since she’d felt even an
inkling of refuge in Hawkins, and it embarrassed her that she’d found it again in some smelly, hairy
teenage boy with great arms, and a firm little...

Focus, Max.

Shaking her head, she flushed further while rummaging through her dresser. After choosing some
sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt, she stripped off her wet clothing, patted herself down with a
towel, and then reclad herself with the dry raiment.

But rather than go straight into the living room, as originally planned, Max did something she
hadn’t in a long while – she entered Billy’s room. Practically holding her breath, she tremblingly
opened his dresser and picked out an old, faded muscle t-shirt and jeans, and then returned to Steve
with the garments in hand.

“You’re wet, too,” she explained. “I don’t think the whole ‘bedraggled cat’ thing only applies to
me.”

He smiled, the expression boyish and lopsided. “I’m thinking I’m more of a ‘disheveled dog,’ but
you’re right. I should practice what I preach,” he agreed. Holding out his palms, he accepted the
clothing before rolling the shirt and jeans around in his hands. Slowly, his smile faded. It was clear
he knew who they belonged to.

Bur rather than draw attention to it, as Max feared, Steve spared her a wry smirk and teased, “Now
I know I’m good-looking and all, but if you keep standing there gawking at me, I’m going to
charge you for the floor show – a friend’s discount, sure, but a fee nonetheless.”

Max’s face flooded with heat. “Floor show?”

“Yeah, you know…like with showgirls, and…uh…” He cleared his throat, shaking his head.
“Y’know what? Never mind. I’m just going to change and trust that you’ll do the right thing.”

Rolling her eyes, Max turned and folded her arms, trying to ignore the warmth in her belly while
she listened to Steve’s rustling clothes. This went on for at least a full minute – was he intentionally
trying to embarrass her? – before at long last, he gave the all-clear.

“All fair maidens, avert ye eyes,” Steve quipped. “Er, except in reverse this time…all fair maidens,
lift thine eyes.”

Arching a brow, Max turned and beheld him in Billy’s clothing. It was…not as uncomfortable as
she was expecting. In fact, it almost felt good to see someone breathing life into those garments
again, even if it was someone who wasn’t Billy – someone who wasn’t anything like a brother to
her anymore.

“So, are we really not going to talk about it?”

Max jerked in surprise, her pulse spiking as she feigned ignorance. “Talk about what?”

Steve sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “What were you doing out on the lake, Max? You
called me – you sounded scared shitless, in fact – so I came as soon as I got your message. And
then when I saw you out there, I just…I dunno…I’ve never felt so sick in my life.” Here he took a
step forward, gently clasping her shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right? Isn’t that why
you called?”

Slowly, a knot formed in her throat, and Max quivered before lifting her chin. “I don’t know why I
called,” she lied.

“Yes, you do.” His gaze softened. “We’re friends, Max. And even though sometimes, you’re like…
like a pustule on the ass of life, I’d never let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

Max’s heart fluttered, and unable to help it, she laughed. “‘Pustule’ is a pretty big word for you.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I do my homework…sometimes.” Squeezing her shoulder, Steve gently

skimmed his thumb back and forth against her neck. “You wanna talk about it for real? Not my
homework or pustules, but…y’know…all that heavy shit.”

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes, and abruptly, she shook her head. “No,” she rasped. “No, I don’t
think I’m ready.”

“Okay.” Steve’s own eyes grew wet, and he lifted a free hand to brush back her hair. “Alright, we
don’t have to. Only when you’re ready – your pace.”

Although he didn’t know the complete extent of her home life, Max appreciated that he wanted to
let her choose – to give her the control. “Thanks,” she whispered. Swallowing back all the words
she wished to speak, to reveal, to confess, she instead reached up a shaking hand and hooked her
fingers through his. “Can you maybe…hold me for a little bit? If that’s okay?”
 Steve nodded. “Yeah, of course it’s okay…unless you drool, or something.” When she gave him a
reproachful look, he laughed and amended, “Yeah, you’re right – I’m more likely to drool. Guess it
goes hand-in-hand with the whole ‘bedraggled dog’ thing.”

Max smiled. “You really need to get a filter. Or at the very least, ask yourself, ‘should I be saying
this?’” Quickly swiping an errant tear from her cheek, she stepped forward and looked to him
imploringly. Don’t turn me away. Please, please don’t turn me away.

Steve motioned her forward, and she practically fell into his embrace, burrowing into his chest with
a plaintive whimper. All at once, his arms wrapped around her, strong and secure, and the moment
his fingers passed through her long, wet hair, she sagged against him and dissolved into a fit of
sobs.

Several hitching breaths caught in her throat, and clutching at his shirt – Billy’s shirt – Max wept
out all of the pain, the sorrow, the ugliness and guilt while Steve cradled her in his arms.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “You just keep crying, Max. I’ve got you.”

You’ve got me, you’ve got me, never let me go – please, never let me go.

Bawling until her throat felt raw and worked over, Max nudged her cheek into Steve’s chest and
felt the comforting thump-thump-thump of his heart. It was reassuring to feel that he was alive –
that he cared. Amidst all the nightmares and day terrors, it was very easy to forget what was real
and what wasn’t, but this, this was real. Steve was here, and they were alive, they were safe, and
clinging to one another like a knotted thread.

Steve edged his cheek down into her crown, and when Max felt his lips brush over her hair, she
lifted enough so that his kiss grazed her forehead instead. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing in
the rapture of that nearness, before she looked up at him earnestly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re a real good guy.”

Steve appeared startled by the admission, but he smiled. “Your standards must be getting lower.”

“Must be,” Max agreed, mirroring his smile.

Steve grinned and pulled her back into his arms. And just like the melting snow on the ground, her
guarded heart slowly started to thaw.

End Notes

So, I really liked the Steve/Max dynamic this season (thus far), and knew I wanted to write
something -- I just wasn't sure what. Last night, I wrote everything in one sitting, and then I
proofread it today (and seeing how I stayed up until after 3 a.m. writing the first draft, I
hope it all makes sense lol). I obviously took some creative liberties, cuz I do think she
loves and depends upon Lucas and Eleven, in particular, but I thought Steve might seem
like a "safer" option to her since he's more detached.

Personally, I think the whole "girl crushes on older guy" trope is really cute, so I don't mind
Stax romantically. In this instance, it's supposed to be more of a platonic situation that
could evolve into something more (I definitely leaned into Max's alleged crush here), so I
 hope you enjoyed! If this is popular enough, I might take another stab at these two
sometime in the future. My free time is getting more and more limited these days, so I'm
trying to balance things to the best of my ability (and sanity). I'm also more accustomed to
writing historical fiction these days, so it was kind of fun delving back into modern for a
bit. Thanks so much for reading! <3 :)

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