A/N: This is from a prompt requesting a slight AU where Jonathan has a stutter which infuriates him but Nancy supports him and helps him deal with it.

His mom always smiled reassuringly and said it was okay. His dad always smacked him over the head and called him an idiot. Everyone at school said the same. Except for one person. And she was currently sitting next to him in the front seat of his car, smiling at him and saying that it doesn't matter. Last week they had exposed Hawkins Lab and exorcised a monster out of Will. And slept together. So. He liked Nancy, had always liked her. More than liked her for over a year now. But he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she seemed to actually like him too. He had kind of chalked it all up to the craziness of that week, that Nancy liked to team up with him for monster hunting but as the insanity of the week passed she would realize that in everyday life she didn't need him. The stuttering idiot pervert. He still felt bad about the hit her reputation had taken last fall when rumor had spread that Nancy Wheeler, smart, beautiful, perfect Nancy Wheeler had slept with the town freak. He worried if word had gotten out now that they've actually had done it. He hadn't been back to school, staying home to care for Will and his mom for a few days before his mom insisted that he had to go back to. He didn't believe in faith so he chalked it up to just a pretty big coincidence that Nancy called the same evening. His mom answered the phone as usual, he hated answering the phone, only did it if he had to when no one else was home. When his mom smiled at him, held out the receiver and told him it was Nancy, he gulped and tried to ready himself, he stuttered even more over the phone. Nancy had shown more patience with him than what he thought was humanly possible, but still. His mom patted his shoulder as he took the receiver and prepared himself to be let down easy by her.

"H-hello."

"Hi!" She greeted happily. Like, really genuinely happy which surprised him. "How are you?" She then asks.

"Uh, g-good."

"Good. How's Will? And your mom?"

"They're b-better n-n-now, thanks," he answers and curses himself. He can't control it but still berates himself for not being able to.

"Glad to hear that."

"H-how are you?" He thinks to ask.

"Better now, it's good to hear your voice. I've missed you."

He's a bit floored by that, and again by how genuine she sounds. He at least thinks he's gotten pretty okay at reading her by now, and Nancy doesn't bullshit him.

"I've m-m-missed you too," he answers. Because he has, it's kind of insane how much he has. Between caring for Will, helping his mom and psyching himself out about Nancy's inevitable reaction to going back to real, everyday life, he had moments where he just smiled like an idiot thinking about her, about last week. The good parts of last week.

"When will you be back in school?" She asks.

"Oh, to-tomorrow a-actually."

"Oh, great! Would you mind picking me up?"

Even considering how the phone call had gone so far her request surprises him. So much so that he forgets to answer.

"Jonathan? Are you still there?"

"Oh!" He's shaken out of his daze. "Y-yes."

"So can you pick me up?"

"Oh, s-s-s-ure."

"Cool! See you tomorrow then!"

"Y-yes."

"Say hi to Will for me, bye!"

"B-bye."

And now here they were, sat in his car at the far end of the Hawkins High's parking lot. Nancy had smiled wide at him when she got in and kissed his cheek, then made small talk with him the whole way here. It was a bit easier for him to talk face to face instead of over the phone, and even though he was nervous around her it was somehow also comfortable, which made his stutter slightly less prominent. Or well, it was always prominent. But after his mom and Will, Nancy was definitely number three on the list of people around which he stuttered the least. Meaning he didn't stutter all the time over every word like it was with other people. She made him so comfortable he even just confessed that he thought she called him last night to let him know she didn't want to be seen with him in public. She had scrunched up her nose, looking incredulous at him and wondered why she would do that. So he'd spoken frankly what he thought, what certainly everyone else would think: Why would she want to be with stuttering idiot pervert? So then she had sighed and told him, not for the first time actually, that his stutter didn't matter.

"Who cares how you say things? The important thing is what you say. And you always say the right thing."

Once again he doesn't know what to say. She just smiles and takes his hand.

"Seriously, Jonathan. Who cares what people think? You're smarter than everyone else in there," she continues, nodding her head towards the school building. "They don't stutter but everything they say is just complete crap. Why would I want to be with anyone else but you?"

"I um-" He begins, hesitating since he still don't really know what to say. Nancy does, though.

"Do you want to be with me?" She challenges.

"Yes!" He answers right away.

"Good! That's what matters," she says and kisses him on the lips.

"Plus, I think it's gotten better. The stutter, I mean," she smiles when they break apart.

"On-only a-around you," he informs her, blushing.

She beams at him.

"Let's go."

They get out of the car and he's walking hand in hand with Nancy Wheeler into Hawkins High. Everyone stares at them and whisper amongst themselves, but Nancy just smiles at him. Anyone who dares meet her gaze she stares down. When they get to her locker his gaze lingers at the various slurs that now adorns it, "CHEATING SLUT" and "WHORE" scribbled in red marker on it. She opens it like it's nothing and gets her books. When she closes it again she catches him looking at it.

"I don't care, they're idiots. It's probably something on yours too, though," she shrugs.

"There's a-always something on mine," he notes.

They walk to his locker further down the corridor and yes, apart from the usual "P-P-PERV" written on it (they think they're sooo clever, imitating his stutter) it now also says "H-H-HOW W-W-W-AS T-T-HE P-P-PITYFUCK?". He's almost impressed by the effort, in a way.

"Assholes," Nancy mutters. He gets his books out and they head to Social Studies together.

They bump into Steve in the hallway after Social Studies, which is pretty awkward, for all three of them. They ask Steve how he's doing, since the facial wounds are still visible. Steve says he's fine and asks in turn how Will's doing. Will's doing good, he answers and that's that. Then the two of them are standing by Nancy's locker minding their own business when a voice calls out.

"Aw look at this, the Slutty Princes and the Pervy Idiot are finally reunited! It warms my heart," Carol walks up to them with a smirk on her face and Tommy H. and all her mindless followers with her.

"Nice to see you too, Carol," Nancy deadpans.

"So B-B-B-Byers man, how was it? Finally getting some a-a-a-action?" Tommy H. asks, the usual shit-eating grin on his face while he mocks his stutter.

"Yeah, did he sweep you off your feet or was it straight to the m-m-m-motel?" Carol adds, mirroring her boyfriend's grin. He wishes the ground would just open up beneath him and swallow him down.

"It was great actually. We did it twice. I begged, just couldn't get enough of him," Nancy says matter-of-factly. He's not the only one who's jaw drops, everyone clearly not expecting her to react that way. Least of all him. It's um, it's true, that they did it twice that night. He just didn't expect her to say it, to other people… not that he minds it, especially since it shut them up.

"How is it for you guys, Carol? Tommy still satisfying you? Or is it hard to keep the spark alive? Is that why you're so invested in other people's business, is it more fun than your own?" Nancy keeps going with a straight face when no one else says anything. He's never seen Carol lost for words before. He could get used to it.

"Bitch," Carol finally mutters, looking at Nancy in disbelief.

"Creative," Nancy deadpans. "Well, it's been lovely chatting with you but we have to get to class," she continues and takes his hand before pushing their way past Carol and Tommy and their cronies.

She looks up at him with a knowing smirk while they walk away. He just looks at her in awe. Right when he thought he couldn't find her any more attractive than he already did.

When it's Friday they go out on a date. A real date, dinner and a movie. Not at some fancy restaurant of course, just at a diner since that's what they can afford. He's pretty sure he wouldn't like the fancier places anyway, and Nancy says the same. It's going really well, she ordered for both of them so he didn't have to, they got a relatively secluded booth too and conversation flows freely, Nancy is so easy to talk to. Now she just prompted to list his three Desert Islands Discs, if he could choose only three albums to listen to for the rest of his life, which would they be? He starts off with Unknown Pleasures because that's a given.

"A-nd it'll have to b-be something with The Clash too," he continues.

"London Calling?" She suggests.

"Hm, n-no I think I like their f-first album more actually."

"Okay, and the last one?"

"Well it has to be Bowie, o-obviously."

"Figured, but which one?"

"Uh… Z-Ziggy Stardust. Or wait m-maybe something from the Berlin tri-trilogy. "Heroes" m-maybe? Or Low. N-no I can't decide."

"Come on, pick one," she smirks at him, amused by how much thought goes into it.

"Ziggy."

"Cool. Hey can you explain something to me? What's the deal with that Berlin era? I'm not sure I get it, I mean I like "Heroes", the song but."

"Well it's about him re-reinventing himself c-constantly. Not just the image b-but musically like-like-" he gets stuck in the middle of his sentence, not being able to get past the word, choking on it. Goddamnit he hates when that happens. It's like it's totally blocked, he knows what to say but can't get it out. He's an idiot.

Nancy smiles patiently at takes his hand, stroking her fingers against the back of it.

"It's okay," she says quietly. "Just take a breath."

He does and she keeps smiling at him.

"And it's like?" She prompts him to continue, helping him past the blockage.

"He wanted s-something different again like w-when he went from s-sort of softer stuff in the b-beginning to more rock, and t-then he invented the who-whole Ziggy Stardust persona after he met like Iggy P-Pop and Lou Reed and a bunch of rock stars. A-nd then it was like The Thin White Duke with Station t-to Station y'know? T-that was kind of weird because he was on so much c-coke. S-so then he went to Berlin to do something n-new again and Brian Eno, uh the pro-producer helped with t-this new sound and like Low is a bit w-weird and ex-ex-experimental but I like it, it's sort of s-slow in a way and darker. And you can kind of h-hear like h-how he's on his way to "Heroes" and Lodger," he takes a deep breath as he finishes. He's a bit embarrassed about how he just droned on about Bowie but Nancy just smiles and looked interested the whole way through.

"That's cool. What do you think of his latest stuff?" She asks.

"O-okay… bit too c-commercial."

"Of course you think that," she smirks and rolls her eyes. "Pretentious," she teases him.

"Chart slave," he teases right back.

After dinner and the movie she asks him if he's got anything with Bowie in the car and he digs out a tape. Then she ever so casually asks if he has to go straight home. When he answers no she says neither does she. Then she off-handedly mentions Lover's Lake. Mmhm. They park the car in the much-rumored spot and switch to the backseat. He'll never be over this, her. It's as great as the first time…s. He likes it. Obviously. But like, also in the sense that it's an activity where he doesn't have to talk. Where it's about action, not words. He's better with actions than words, he thinks. Not to toot his own horn, but.

So life is suddenly wonderful, because Will is doing better every day and Nancy is with him and she is amazing in every single way. They do everything together. He picks her up in the morning for school, where they share most classes and have lunch together on the hood of his car or in the darkroom. When school's out they usually hang around at his or her house, talking, laughing, listening to music, doing homework, doing… other things. Well okay, there's two major clouds in the sky, and one minor. Bob is dead and he feels bad about not having been more welcoming to him. He tries to help his mom in every way he can. He helps her deal with the funeral and all. And then there's Barb's funeral. Nancy tries to be stoic about it, says she's prepared for it for a long time. But she confides in him about all her feelings about Barb's death, the night before the funeral. He simply holds her in his arms and listens as she cries her heart out, seemingly letting out a year's worth of pent up grief in one evening. He tells her it's okay, reassures that it's not her fault and he seems to eventually get through to her. She has hard time at the funeral too, seeing Mr. and Mrs. Holland and the still fresh grief in them. She leans on him and he just tries to help her get through the day. And the next. On the third day she starts to get back to her normal, confident, fun, smart, sassy self.

The minor cloud (only in comparison with the other two since they involved actual death) over him is that Mrs. Weekes has them doing a book report for English class. Which in itself is fine, he's got Catch-22 by Joseph Heller and he likes the book a lot, he's already done with it. But it's an oral presentation. Which means he has to speak in front of the whole class and Mrs. Weekes. He'd rather take another Demogorgon attack over that.

"It's going to be fine!" Nancy looks up from her intense note-taking of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. He looks at her and comes to a stop with his foot which he now realizes he had been shaking in stress.

"I'll die," he mutters.

"No you won't. I've told you, it's really gotten better," she insists. He shakes his head. It's gotten better around her because she makes him comfortable. But even then it's not good. He has good days and bad days as always.

"I c-can't talk in front of that many people. You've s-seen me."

She has. He relives all the past instances of when he's been forced to do oral presentations. Everyone snickering while he'd stumbled and stuttered his way through. Well, everyone but Nancy. And Barb. They never laughed at him.

"I can help you," she says.

"How?"

"Well, we'll practice," she says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"It s-still won't b-be good," he mutters.

"Yes it will! Come on. First let's work on what you'll say."

He's already got his notes and she helps him, asking him questions about the book which prompts him into further thoughts about it and she helps him structure it on paper. When they're done she prompts him to stand up and give it a practice run. He obliges, rising from her bed with his notebook and tries to run through it. She sits perched on the bed, legs criss-crossed and listens attentively as he stutters and stumbles over words and gets lost in the notes until he just stops with a frustrated sigh in the middle of a sentence.

"Hey, it wasn't that bad," she insists.

"Yes it was," he groans.

"Just relax, it'll get better. Hey, I've got an idea," she says and gets up off the bed. She goes over to her desk and takes out blank paper and scissors, promptly cutting the paper up into squares.

"You should have the text on cards instead, it'll be easier to find your place again if you get lost," she explains when she returns to the bed with the paper squares.

"That's smart," he notes. Why hasn't he thought of that before?

"I know," she smiles.

She helps him write out his presentation on the cards instead and tells him to try again.

He stutters and stumbles as much as before and loses his place a couple of times but finds it again quickly so the cards work at least, and he gets through to the end.

"See, already better."

"It's still bad."

For a second she sits in silence, thinking.

"You should try slowing down."

"Hm?"

"It's like you kind of speed up sometimes, like you're in a hurry and then you trip over the words. Right?"

"Y-yeah, b-but sometimes it's like… like-like I just c-can't get the word out," he tries to describe it. That was the worst feeling, when he knew what to say, knew the words but just could't get them out, like in the diner a couple of weeks ago.

"I understand. So maybe try and slow down a bit, like focus on pronouncing each syllable. It's no hurry."

He nods.

He tries again, tries to slow down. He feels like an idiot, like he's almost sounding out each syllable but Nancy just nods encouragingly. It takes longer, but he gets through to the end and with a bit less stuttering. Nancy praises him and has him do it again at the same pace. It goes a little better. One more time, she insists and this time he feels a bit more confident and automatically increases the pace a little – but still holds the stuttering to the slightly lower amount of the two previous times.

"Great! See, you will be good," she smiles.

"Feels l-like I'm going so slow," he says.

"You're doing fine!"

"I think I-I'll still lose m-my cool when I'm up there. I'll just sp-speed up anyway."

Nancy is quiet again, thinking.

"We can try something else, for the rhythm."

"What?"

"Music."

"What do you mean?" He asks, confused.

"You've got rhythm. When you listen to music it's like you're… yeah you're in rhythm, you know. Don't you feel it too? Like, more comfortable kind of?"

"Yeah," he answers after thinking for a second, realizing that she's right. As always.

"Let's go to your place," she says and promptly gets up off the bed.

Nancy tells him to play something he loves and try again so he puts on Unknown Pleasures at a low volume and starts again. But he finds himself speeding up to much in time with Peter Hook's awesome basslines so he turns it off and tries with Low instead, hoping David Bowie's Berlin period will once again come to his aid.

It suits the purpose better. Or well, not at first but when he flips to the more ambient b-side of the record he finds that the base and rhythm syncs better with his speech. He reminds himself to focus on each syllable and taps his fingers against the cards in time with Warszawa and then Art Decade.

"That was the best one yet!" Nancy exclaims as he finishes almost at the same time as Art Decade thus too.

"Y-yeah, it felt good."

"Try one more," she encourages.

Weeping Wall goes a bit too fast which screws him up, but Subterraneans works better.

"That was great!"

He nods in agreement. It's still far from perfect, but it's definitely a lot better than before.

"Only p-problem is I can't play music in class," he notes, sitting down next to her on his bed.

"Well, the point is to get you relaxed and confident in the words. And I think you should make a tape of the songs that worked best so we can practice to it more. We can play it in the car too, listen to it on the day. Then hopefully something will be stuck in your head and maybe that'll help," she lays out her strategy.

"Maybe," he contends before kissing her. "Thanks."

"No problem."

They practice it almost daily for a whole week, holed up in his room with music playing and Nancy perched on the bed listening intently while he stands up and fumbles his way through time and time again. Once or twice he allows his mom and Will to listen to it too and they sit with Nancy on the bed and just like her assures him that he's doing good. When they day of the presentations finally arrive they listen to the tape in his car on the way to school and then he pops it out and puts it in his Walkman which he brought with him. They've got English after lunch so during lunch he first listens to Warszawa and Art Decade basically on repeat and runs through it again. Nancy listens and showers him with praise, insisting that it's really great now. He almost believes her but he's still nervous as hell. She can tell and tries to calm his nerves with her touch, cupping his face gently and kissing him before whispering more words of encouragement in his ear. When they walk to class she hums Art Decade the whole way to help implant it in his brain.

Mrs. Weekes, curse her, by a whim decides to let the presentations roll in reverse order, beginning with Scotty Young. It means that Nancy is one of the first to go up and give her presentation, and she's flawless as always. She barely even looks at her notes. And it means he as a Byers must sit and wait for his turn, which means he has plenty of time for his nervousness to build up even more. He glances intermittently at Nancy who sits at the desk to his left as usual, and she always smiles reassuringly back at him. He runs the words through his head over and over and taps out Art Decade with his foot but he screws up time and time again he feels. When it's getting close to being his turn Nancy subtly passes him a note of encouragement, saying that he'll do awesome followed by a bunch of hearts. He looks at her and tries to look convinced but she doesn't buy it. Soon he receives another note simply reading "SERIOUSLY AWESOME!" and looks at him determined, which makes him almost laugh and he relaxes a bit.

He goes up to the front of the class, drumming Art Decade with his fingers against the cards. He looks out over the class and swallows hard. His heart is beating out of his chest. He looks over at Nancy who smiles at him. He clears his throat and begins.

And it goes… okay? Maybe even good, almost? He just looks at Nancy throughout which has a calming effect on him, she keeps smiling and even mouths along with him a little, because of course she knows his presentation just as well as he does by now. He kind of keeps a rhythm and doesn't get lost at all. He stutters, but not nearly as much as he usually does in these situations. When he goes back to his seat Nancy smiles and reaches out and squeezes his hand, giving over a new note in the process. "I TOLD YOU, IT WAS GREAT!" it reads, followed by even more hearts than before.

Mrs. Weekes gives him an A and praises his progress, asking if he'd done something different. After he's recovered from the shock of getting an A for an oral assignment for the first time ever, he says that Nancy helped him practice. Mrs. Weekes just smiles and nods and says he should keep doing whatever he's doing. When he tells Nancy about the grade she exclaims "I told you!" and kisses him before telling him she's so proud of him and that they should celebrate. He points out that she got an A+ which she brushes off saying that he really deserved it more than her. He disagrees so she she suggests a compromise, saying that they both should've gotten the plus. He agrees to that.

She insists they go to the diner downtown and orders milkshakes and then blueberry pancakes because she knows it's his favorite. The diner is close to Melvald's so Nancy then gets it in her head that they should go over there and tell his mom. He's really not behind the idea since it feels childish to run to his mom just because he got an A. He's gotten A's before, just not for this. But Nancy insists and drags him into the store and right to checkout where his mom is working. She looks up at them and Nancy giddily informs her about his grade. His mom is embarrassingly happy for him, standing up and exclaiming how proud she is and hugging both him and Nancy and gushes over him and he goes completely crimson because there's other people there who just looks confused or bemused or annoyed at the sudden delay in checkout. The guy next in line clears his throat and looks to say something but quiets instantly when both his mom and Nancy glares at him.

Nancy insists that it doesn't bother her, but it bothers him, how the asshole people that populate the school treat her. He doesn't give a damn what they say about him, but he cares a whole lot what they say about Nancy. She doesn't deserve any of it. In a perfect world Nancy telling Carol off in the glorious way she did that first day he was back would've shut them all up for good but sadly that's not how it works in real life, only in movies. In real life Carol and Tommy and all the rest keep coming up with snide remarks when they pass them in the halls, keep scribbling stuff on their lockers. Keep saying things under their breath.

"Slut, Pervert," Carol says shortly and nods to them one day when they pass her and her whole clique in the hallway.

They just ignore her, like they've agreed to do, and walk on. But then Carol calls out again.

"Hey Princess, don't you miss her… what was her name? You know, Four-Eyes?"

Nancy halts her step and he feels her squeeze his hand hard, trying to keep her cool. She looks furious. She swallows hard, takes a deep breath and then resumes walking, obviously working hard to ignore the loudmouth.

"Let's just go," she whispers.

But no, he's had it. He lets go of Nancy's hand and promptly turn around and marches back to Carol, Tommy and everyone else. Their smug faces looks at him with amusement. He doesn't reflect on that, instead just launching into the tirade he didn't realize he had on his chest.

"You know, you guys are the most pathetic bunch of idiots I've ever seen. You just walk around shitting on other people all day because deep down you know that the only thing you've got going for yourself is your status here in high school and you're scared because that's soon over!" He directs at Carol. "And you, even if you're a fucking idiot even you must know that you're nothing without her or your place as a starter on the crappiest high school basketball team in the state," he continues, glaring at Tommy. "And you guys are nothing at all without them even," he directs to their mindless followers. "Hope you are enjoying this time because it will be the best years of your life! You'll never get out of this crapsack town, you'll just turn into your boring-ass parents and get stuck here, while she," he gestures back towards Nancy, "She will be somewhere else, anywhere she wants to be, doing whatever she wants because she's fucking amazing!" He finishes.

They all just stare at him, mouths slightly agape. He turns on his heel and walks back to Nancy who also stares at him. But when he reaches her she promptly shoves him up against the nearest locker and kisses him with the same fervor as that first night at Murray's. He's almost taken aback but quickly finds himself in the situation, holding her close and kissing her back just as eagerly. Then he thinks he can hear footsteps walking away in the distance but he's really not focusing on that right now.

"You didn't stutter," Nancy gets out when they break apart for air. She kisses him again before he has a chance to answer. He didn't even realize it but it's true. He's not sure what happened there, he didn't even think.

If it weren't for Mr. Dowd, the geography teacher, banging on the row of lockers a couple of minutes later to get them to break it up he's not sure if they would've ever stopped despite the fact that they were in the middle of the second floor hallway in school at 2 pm on a Tuesday and despite the fact that he normally prefers to keep affections in private.

"I love you," he says. He's sure of it. So he says it right there and then.

Nancy looks at him for a split-second, her eyes beaming and lips curving upwards and then she kisses him again. Right in front of Mr. Dowd and it seals the deal for detention for the both of them but it's totally worth it.

Because he's pretty sure of what her response meant.

And he didn't stutter.