Chapter Text

Steve wakes, seated in a plastic folding chair in a sterile white waiting room, of sorts. In front of him is a large whiteboard, with only the words “Welcome! Everything is fine.” written in green marker. A small smile creeps onto his face, and he inhales and exhales almost in relief.

“Steve?” A blond man with a stern looking face is sticking his head through a doorway off to Steve’s left. “Come on in.”

Steve stands, swiping his hands down his thighs; before entering the room after the man. He sits in a high-backed wooden chair behind a very fancy looking Mahogany desk, and gestures for Steve to sit in one of the seats in front of him. “Hi, Steve. I’m Henry. How are you today?”

“I’m great, thanks for asking. Oh! One question. Where am I? Who are you? And what’s going on?” Steve asks, blatantly ignoring his own “one question” statement.

“Right. So. You, Steve Harrington, are dead. Your life on Earth has ended, and you are now in the next phase of your existence in the Universe,” Henry states, clasping his hands together on top of the desk in front of them.

“Cool. Cool. I have some questions.”

“I thought that you might.”

Steve seems to hesitate a bit, running his hand through his hair as he gets his thoughts together. “Um. How did I die? I… I don’t remember.”

“Yes, well. In cases of traumatic or embarrassing deaths, we erase the memory to allow for a peaceful transition. Are you sure you want to hear?” Henry asks, not unkindly. Steve hums a little and says, “No, I… I think I’m okay with not knowing if it was embarrassing. Or traumatic I guess.” Henry smiles gently at this, nodding in understanding.

“But, I, um. Is this, like.” Steve points his thumb up into the air, pauses for a second, and then flips his hand upside down so that his thumb is now pointing to the floor. “Or…”

“Well. There isn’t a… Heaven or Hell like the beliefs your parents taught you. No, the afterlife, as it is, is split into two places. The Good Place, and the Bad Place,” Henry explains. He then smiles politely at Steve, says, “There’s no need to worry, Steve. You’re in the Good Place. You made it.” Steve grins giddily at Henry. “Well that’s great.”

“Sure is,” Henry says. “Okay. Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

🙞 🙜

Steve and Henry are walking through a beautiful courtyard, with marble columns leading to nowhere, and small hedge bushes trimmed into perfect spheres lining the walkways. Steve’s hands are stuffed into the front pockets of his Levi’s, walking perfectly in step with Henry in his all white outfit. “So,” Steve starts. “Are you like… God?”

Henry smirks, his face stretching awkwardly over his cheekbones like it didn’t quite fit right. “No, I’m not a god. I’m an architect, and I designed this neighborhood. This is how it works: The Good Place is divided into distinct neighborhoods. Each one contains exactly 322 people who have been perfectly selected to balance each and every other person in the neighborhood. Everything, from the gravel on the ground to the leaves in the trees, is designed to be absolutely perfect.”

Steve looks around himself as they leave the courtyard and begin walking through what looks like the main street of a quaint little town. Around them are small apartment buildings, small little necessity shops (one of which was quite aptly named “All Your Necessities,”) and quite notably, a large quantity of pizza parlors for how small the neighborhood is. “There’s a lot of pizza places here,” Steve mumbles.

“Ah, yes. That is something that translates to all of the neighborhoods in the Good Place; we have established that the absolute average favorite food of all humanity is pizza! All of the restaurants in town will reflect that average. People love pizza.” Henry smiles pleasantly at Steve.

Steve inhales a little shakily. “...Cool,” he says. Henry claps his hand down onto Steve’s shoulder abruptly, causing him to jump and jolt away. “Now, I know you’re going to have a lot of questions, but for right now- Why don’t you go take a seat,” Henry suggests, spreading the arm that isn’t clasping Steve’s shoulder outwards towards a large amphitheater where at least a third of the neighborhood were already seated. “The movie is about to begin.”

🙞 🙜

On the stage there is what appears to be a magically floating projection screen, with no actual projector in sight. On the screen is Henry, still dressed in his entirely white outfit, against an all white background. Green text appears on the screen above Henry, reading “The Good Place: Day One Orientation,” before it fades into the background, leaving Henry alone in the white space once again.

“Hello everyone, and welcome; to your first day in the afterlife,” Henry from the projection speaks, his voice projected loudly enough to be heard by all 322 residents in the seats in front of the stage. “You are all… Good people.” Projection Henry begins walking, and the camera keeps him directly in the center of the frame as he walks up to a woman in a beautifully crafted casket. “During your time on Earth, your every action had a positive, or negative, effect on the Universe.” As he says this, a point total of +6.72 appears next to the words “hug sad friend,” and separately, in red, a point total of -8.93 appears next to the words “saying ‘five second rule’ before eating something from the floor.” More of these random points show up rapidly on the screen, some for very small amounts, some for very large, ultimately ending with “Ending slavery” (+81,465,092) and “Harassment (Sexual)” (-9,865.23,) before all of the points fade into the background.

When your time on Earth has ended, we calculate the total value of your life using our perfectly accurate measuring system. Only the truly greatest people, the ‘cream of the crop’ so to speak, get to come here. What happens to everyone else?” Projection Henry asks, with a smirk on his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few people in the seats around Steve chuckle at that, but Steve secretly thinks that he doesn’t find it very humorous.

Projection Henry continues, “You are here because you lived one of the very best lives that could be lived. And the best part of all of this is…? Soulmates.” People around Steve gasp. “Every single person in the neighborhood has someone here who’s soul is so intrinsically perfect a match to their own soul. Someone who can and will love them, unconditionally.”

Steve is actually a bit excited at this prospect, and when he notices a few people in the seats around him looking around themselves wildly, he allows himself the chance to do the same (albeit a bit more restrained) and hopes that one of the people he sees might be his soulmate. He does eventually lock eyes with someone, who he at first assumes is a very handsome woman, but upon closer inspection is just a handsome man with shoulder length, curly hair, and rings on almost all of his fingers. Steve grins sheepishly at him, a little ashamed at his immediate first thought that the man had fit his exact type to a T, minus the fact that he was a man. The man wiggles his fingers at Steve, before Steve turns around in his seat to face back towards the screen.

“One of the other people in the neighborhood, is your actual soulmate, and you will spend eternity together. So- welcome to eternal happiness. Welcome, to the Good Place,” projection Henry finishes.

🙞 🙜

“So who is in the Bad Place that would surprise me?” Steve asks Henry, as they walk up a cobbled pathway, surrounded by perfectly manicured hedges. “Well, let’s see,” Henry starts. “Elvis Presley,” (Steve nods at that) “every King Charles, every U.S. president other than Abraham Lincoln…”

“What about Rosie the Riveter?” Steve asks.

“Well, she was not a real person,” Henry states. “But I can imagine she would also be in the Bad Place.”

“Oh,” Steve says, blushing a bit in embarrassment. “It seems a little crazy that all those amazing people are in the Bad Place…”

“As I’ve said. Only the absolute best people on Earth are allowed to be here. That’s why you, a brave samaritan who helped house and feed the sick and poor out of your own home, and started the AIDS epidemic relief fund with every penny of your own earnings, are here, and not them.” Henry claps both of his hands onto Steve’s shoulders and looks him directly in his eyes. “You truly belong here, Steve.”

“Now, let’s take a look at your house. Every house here in the Good Place perfectly encapsulates the essence of the person that lives inside of it.”

They walk up to a huge mansion, dead in the center of the walkway they had been on, surrounded by huge flowering bushes and marble benches. Steve wonders just how many people live in a house this huge, and is excited at the prospect of sharing a home with someone who would be around, for once. When they push open the huge double doors in the front of the mansion, Steve says “This is a… pretty sweet house!”

“Yes, we take your perfect idea of a home, and recreate it here, in the neighborhood. Not everyone holds the same ideals, so everyone gets their own perfect house,” Henry says, leading Steve further into the mansion with a hand on the small of his back.

“Wait,” Steve says, stopping in place entirely, causing Henry to bump into him from behind, and turns to face him. “Wait, so- this is just… my house? Nobody else lives here?”

“Yep!” Henry exclaims happily. “Just you! All alone in this great big house, it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of!”

“Yeah. I guess it is,” Steve says, a little grimly.

Henry walks the both of them towards a couch in front of a large television that is maybe set into the wall, or, Steve thinks, is somehow flat-screened. On it, what plays appears to be from Steve’s own point of view, his hands and arms coming into view a few times, showing Steve himself handing bundles of clothing, bags of food, and sleeping bags and pillows to people in various states of distress. The screen changes to Steve in a laboratory, forking over handfuls of cash to a scientist in a white coat, which the screen changes once again to the same scientist showing Steve various vials of chemicals, and she camera shakes up and down, as if Steve was nodding about something the scientist had said.

“These are some of your memories from your time on Earth that contributed to your high point total,” Henry explains. Steve nods at this like it’s obvious, and it is.

There is a knock at the door, to which Henry smiles politely, slaps his hands onto his knees, and stands from his seated position on the couch. “Welp! One more thing, before I let you get settled.”

He opens one of the double doors enough to poke his head through. “Robin? Come on in.”

An awkward looking young woman comes through the door, her brown hair brushing her chin as she waves dorkily at Steve. “Steve?” she asks, the right side of her smile twitching upwards. “You… are my soulmate.” Steve smiles at her, excited that he gets to have someone who he can have, can love and be loved in return, unconditionally.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” Henry says, politely bowing his way out of the door before shutting it behind himself.

“Hey, man, bring it in!” Robin exclaims, throwing both of her arms up into the air. Steve walks up to her and wraps his arms around her. She holds the hug for a few seconds, and then quickly drops her arms to her sides, before running to look through the glass paneling to the side of the front door. When she doesn’t seem to see anyone around, she comes back over to Steve. “Steve, as my soulmate, you’ll stand by my side, no matter what, right?” She asks.

“Hold that thought,” Steve says, cutting her off. Robin’s face drops a bit, but Steve raises his hand to her before she can start talking again and says, “There’s been a big mistake.”

He sees Robin tense up at that, nearly looking ready to run, and he continues. “I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t belong in the Good Place.”

🙞 🙜

“Wait, wait, wait,” Robin says, pacing around in front of Steve. “You don’t belong in the Good Place?” Steve thinks that is an odd place to inflect (it should have been ‘you don’t belong in the Good Place’, or maybe ‘you don’t belong in the Good Place’ he thinks.) “Yes,” he says to her incredulous face. “The good things Henry said I have done, those memories he just showed me? I… never did any of those things. I didn’t have some food drive for poor people out of my house. I didn’t have a personal fund for the AIDS crisis- not that I wouldn’t, obviously, I just, didn’t- I didn’t do… any of that.”

“What the fork?” Robin says, as if that is at all a normal thing to say.

“Did you just say ‘what the fork’ instead of ‘what the fork?’ I mean- what the fork? Fork.”

“Yeah, you um. Can’t curse here. I guess some people don’t like it,” Robin says, stopping his litany of ‘forks’ in its place. “I guess I was just confused, because. I didn’t think I belonged here either? I mean I did do all of the things Henry said I did, and my memories were mine but. Um. Can I trust you, man, for real?”

“Oh, yeah, Robin of course.”

“Promise me, say ‘I promise, I will never betray you for any reason.’”

“Robin, I swear to you that I will never betray you, ever,” Steve says, holding her hands in his.

“Good. Because, if I truly belonged here, if this was meant to be my afterlife…” she sighs heavily. “Then my soulmate would be a woman.”

Steve blinks at her. “What- but. Hold on,” he stammers. “I thought soulmates were supposed to be like… romantic. They’re somebody you love.”

“Yeah, shirt for brains, I’m a lesbian it would be romantic for me.”

“Oh. Holy shirt.”

“Yeah. Holy shirt.”

They both sit in silence for a while after that, Steve staring out into space, body completely still; and Robin, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands together. After a long moment, Robin peeks over at Steve and asks, “Are you… okay over there?”

“Yeah, just uh. Just thinking.” Steve says. “Okay,” Robin responds, nodding too much.

“Okay. I believe you. Not about the lesbian thing- I mean I do believe you about that which is frankly a little upsetting to me because I wanted a soulmate so bad- that’s not- anyway. I believe that your soulmate is supposed to be a woman. Maybe I took her place, somehow? I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, though.”

“Oh, I… I wasn’t expecting you to be so calm about all of this. Especially not about the whole ‘liking girls’ thing,” Robin says, a little warily.

“Well that’s the easiest part for me to understand, frankly. Everyone likes boobies.”

“Ew, don’t say boobies, gross-” Robin starts, before Steve cuts her off.

“Anyway, like I said, I don’t think I belong here anyway. Henry told me… he said that this house, this huge forking house, was everything I ever dreamed of. I don’t remember how I died but I know for a fact that even on my deathbed I never wanted another big empty house to rot in all alone. I grew up in a house like that, I lived in one my whole life… I would never in a billion years ask to have that again.”

Robin moves in close to Steve again, awkwardly gives him a little hug. Steve sniffs a little, turning away from Robin to wipe at his eyes and his nose in case either of them decided to betray him by leaking. “Anyway,” Steve says, a little shaky. “We’ll get this figured out. Maybe… maybe this is a test, and I have to tell Henry that I don’t belong here, and then they’ll decide if I belong in the Good or Bad Place based on if I was being truthful? Or something. Either way, we’ll get this figured out. We’ll get you your real soulmate.”

“What if you tell Henry that you belong in the Bad Place though, and he just… puts you there instead?” Robin asks. “We don’t even know what the Bad Place is like!”

“Well, maybe it’s not that bad? I mean if most of the people in the entire history of the Universe ended up in the Bad Place, maybe it isn’t horrible?” Steve tries to reason.

Robin says “Oh! Duh,” which Steve is honestly a little confused by, and is even more confused when she shouts, “Eleven!”

“Who the fork is-”

“Hi there!” a new, unfamiliar voice starts from behind Steve. He whirls around to see a hole closing in his wall (what the fork) and in front of the hole stands a girl of an uncertain age, likely a young one, sporting a buzz cut. “How can I help you?” she asks Robin, who is grinning at the way Steve is gesturing frantically at the (now entirely closed) hole in the wall and at the girl who seemingly appeared out of it.

“Who the fork are you?” Steve asks her, eventually deciding to stand in front of Robin in case this girl is dangerous. Robin scoffs at that and quickly moves away from him as if she was offended.

“I am Eleven. I am the informational assistant here in the Good Place,” Eleven says.

“She’s like this… walking database. You can ask her about just about anything in the Universe,” Robin explains to Steve.

“Oh!” Steve exclaims, immediately cutting off anything else Robin might have been getting ready to say. “I had two friends in high school, up until around 1983, Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins? Were they… into me?” Steve asks.

“Tommy was, Carol wasn’t,” Eleven says plainly.

“Was she gay?”

“No.”

“Huh. I guess she just didn’t want to have sex with me.”

“That is correct,” Eleven says, blunt.

Steve opens his mouth to say something else, but this time Robin cuts him off. “Okay, Steve, this wasn’t what we were going to ask about,” she says. “Eleven, what is the Bad Place like?”

“Oh, that is one thing I am not allowed to talk to residents about. It can be… a bummer. I am, however, allowed to play a brief soundbite of what is happening in the Bad Place, right now,” Eleven states. Robin and Steve nod, amicably. Eleven opens her mouth, and immediately unholy, inhuman screeching starts pouring out of her throat. There are the sounds of multiple people sobbing and screaming, and the start of some truly horrible squelching sounds before Eleven closes her mouth, causing the noise to stop abruptly. She smiles politely at Robin and Steve, who are gripping each other's hands tightly.

“Well,” Steve starts. “It doesn’t sound amazing.”

“Thank you, Eleven,” Robin says shakily, and she and Steve watch as Eleven reopens the hole in Steve’s wall and disappears through it. Steve releases his hold on Robin’s hand, and then quickly decides better of it and takes it back. She lets him drag her over to his couch, and they both sit on it in silence. “We’ll figure this out,” Robin says. “I promise.”