Finals are a bitch.
Iâm still working on the next chapter for I Donât Know Which Wayâs Home, and itâll be a few more days until Iâm able to finish it. Iâve been so busy with studying that I only have the brain power to write smaller pieces at a time, not longer chapters.
But it will get done. I have to procrastinate packing somehow.
4 notes
·
View notes
The One with the Trifle Pt 2
part 1 here
A little while later, Robin and Eddie return, bringing the trifle with them. Argyle, thoroughly stoned, walks over to it, leaning down to stare at it eye level.
âLooks great, dude. What is it?â
âEnglish trifle. I found this old cookbook in a thrift shop and thought it looked good. And there was no oven involved, so nothing is burnt this year,â Robin points the last question at Steve, glaring at him.
Steve presses his lips together, trying not to say anything bad. âYep, nothing looks burnt.â
âJust wait until you taste it,â she excitedly goes on. âI tried everything separately and it was so good, so Iâm excited to see what it tastes like all together.â
âWhatâre the layers?â Argyle asks, still staring at the dessert.
âLady fingers, then jam, custard, that I made from scratch, raspberries, more ladyfingers, then beef sauteed with peas and onions. More custard, a layer of bananas, and then some whipped cream. Weird right?â
Nancy chokes on her drink. âWeird. Whatâs weird about it?â
âThe beef. Everything else is so sweet it just seems out of place. But then I was like, thereâs a mince meat pie. And pies are sweet, so this is just normal for them I guess.â
Eddie claps his hands, getting everyone attention. Totally not nervous about all of this. âYeah, so normal. Is the rest of the food ready? I am starved.â
They all sit down at the table and have their dinner. The rest of the food is very good, no complaints there. They play cards and talk in between dinner and dessert, after everyone helps clean up of course. Eddie might convince Argyle to give him a joint, just to prepare a little bit. Also, he hates Thanksgiving, so it helps.
âRemind me again why you hate Thanksgiving,â Nancy asks after crushing them all in a round of poker.
âMy dad liked to think that you couldnât get arrested on holidays, which isnât true. When I was nine, he stole a car, immediately got caught, then got arrested. Happened again when I was twelve. And then I think again when I was fifteen, but I was living with Wayne at that point. Every year, people get together to be thankful, while I get reminded of my dick of a father. Who is probably in jail again for doing something stupid.â
Jonathan winces. âThat sucks, man.â
Eddie shuffles the cards. âYeah. But my uncleâs great though. More of a father to me than my own father was. Would have invited him if he didnât already have plans.â
They play a few more rounds, Eddie able to sneak in win when Nancy gets dealt a bad hand. Jonathan even wins once, even though heâs a bit confused at what game theyâre really playing.
Then itâs time, and Robin starts to plate the trifle. Taking a big spoonful of all the layers and handing them to everyone. Finally sitting down with her own piece, with a huge smile. Steve takes a deep breath in preparation. Nancy gives Steve one last dead glare. One that says both âthis is your faultâ and âif you mess this up, I will kill youâ.
Jonathan pokes around the plate with his fork, inspecting it. Argyle looks actually excited to eat this and Eddie is just twirling the fork around in his hand waiting for someone else to eat it first.
âSteve, I want you to take the first bite,â Robin says, ever so sweetly. With just a touch of malice in her voice. âSince you always doubt my cooking so much.â
Steve nods, pained. âRight. Yeah, of course.â He takes a forkful of the trifle, skirting around the beef.
âYou missed a whole layer there. I want to make sure you eat all of it.â Robin smirks at him. Steve canât tell if itâs because sheâs hiding something or because sheâs made about his earlier comments. Mind too filled with the anxiety over eating this.
Steve stares at the dessert before his eyes, taking a deep breath before giving Robin a pained smile. Then eating the trifle, trying his hardest not to gag. âItâs great, Rob,â he says, trying to swallow. âSo good.â
âAlright, now the rest of you.â
Nancy takes a breath before just shoving a forkful in her mouth. Looking like she barely chews before swallowing it. Jonathan eats it like anything else, looking partially confused, but taking a moment to register what all the flavors are. Argyle just keeps eating it.
Eddie doesnât eat it at all.
âSteveâs right, probably the best thing youâve made,â Nancy acts better than Steve did. âYou should send me the recipe.â
âYeah, dude,â Argyle says, plate now half empty. âThis is really good.â
Robin bursts out laughing, causing the rest of the table to look at her. âI canât believe you actually ate it. Oh my God.â
âWhat?â Steve says, half choking on the water he was drinking.
âI didnât actually think that beef belonged in the trifle. Do you all really think Iâm that dumb?â
Jonathan looks up from his plate, eyes squinted. âWhatâs going on?â
Argyle leans over. âNot sure but Robinâs laughing a lot.â
Robin stands up, taking her plate and throwing her piece in the trash. âHold on a second.â
Eddie stands after she leaves, taking his own plate and throwing out his untouched piece of the trifle. âI need you all to know, that I had no idea about this before today. And if it werenât for Nancy making fun of the way I slice green beans-.â
âBecause no one slices green beans that way,â Nancy exclaims.
âI do,â Eddie says dramatically. âWayne has done it for me that way since I was a kid and wasnât the biggest fan of green beans. If you want them cut a certain way, you should tell people.â
Nancy pauses. âThat is a good point. Iâm sorry for getting mad at you.â
âThank you.â Eddie sees Jonathan and Argyle still eating the not real trifle. âOh guys, you donât have to eat that. It was a prank.â
âWhat?â Jonathan asks, still not sure whatâs going on.
Argyle leans over again. âThis was a prank, we donât have to eat this anymore.â
âBut itâs dessert.â
âYeah, but not the real dessert.â
Jonathan is not putting the pieces together. âWhereâs the real dessert then?â
âDonât know, man. It isnât here yet.â
Nancy stands, taking the two plates in front of them. âIâm just going to move these.â
âJesus, dude, how much did you smoke?â Steve asks, finally throwing his food away.
Robin comes back into the apartment with another trifle in her hands, this one beef free. She places it in the center of the table, smiling maniacally. âThis is the real trifle.â
The real trifle looks exactly like a picture of one would. Layers of lady fingers, jam, custard, and fruit. All perfectly even, with not a speck of beef in sight.
âThat,â Nancy starts, still in shock, âlooks really good.â
âI know, right.â Robin sits back down in her seat. âAnd it really wasnât that hard either. The only thing that I had to make myself was the custard, which was actually pretty easy.â
âI knew thatâs not how cookbooks worked,â Steve says annoyed, glaring at Eddie.
Eddie shrugs, âIt was part of the bit.â
Argyle stares at the new trifle. âI think youâre missing a layer there, dude.â
âNo, she added an extra layer before,â Eddie explains. âThis one is the correct one.â
âIf you say so.â Argyle leans back into the chair, still skeptical.
The real trifle is dished out and eaten pretty fast. Everyone apologizing to Robin for doubting her. She sits with a smug look on her face for the rest of the night.
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
27 notes
·
View notes
The One with the Trifle Pt 1
Pretend itâs Thanksgiving please and thank you. Flashback to Eddieâs first Thanksgiving after moving to the city. (If youâre a friends fan or know this episode, this will only be about the trifle bit and not the secret revealing section at the end of the episode. That will be coming at another time.)
Robin is standing in the kitchen with a large glass container in front of her. Sheâs carefully reading the instructions of a cookbook, pulling out ingredients as she goes. Steve comes out of the bathroom and walks over to the kitchen.
âAre you sure you got the dessert this year? We both know what happened last Christmas,â he asks, again. For the third time.
Robin rolls her eyes. âThat was a fluke. I think I really got it this time. And, nothing is going in the oven, just stove top.â
âYou say that like it makes it better. Iâve seen you burn water before.â
âNo, that was dry pasta that I forgot to add the right amount of water to, so it dried up and then burned. But that was years ago. Now I know how to use the stovetop.â
Steve sighs. âIf you need anything, I mean anything, Iâll be right across the hall helping Nancy with the rest of the food. No question is too stupid to ask me.â
âWe both know that is a lie.â
âWhat are you making anyway?â Steve leans over the counter to see the cookbook.
Robin picks it up to show him. âItâs a trifle, from this old British cookbook I found at the thrift store. Cute, right.â
âYeah, if you donât fuck it up.â
Robin smacks him with the book. âOut, out. Go help Nancy and stop making fun of me.â
âI donât think Iâll ever stop making fun of you, but whatever.â Steve walks across the hall to Nancyâs apartment. Sheâs in the kitchen basting the turkey while Eddie, Argyle, and Jonathan are sitting on the couch watching the parade.
âSteve, thank God. I needed someone who,â she turns her head to the living room, âactually knows what theyâre doing.â She stares at the back of Eddieâs head.
Eddie makes a large gesture. âI didnât know it was possible to fuck up cutting green beans.â
âIt is when you cut them like this.â Nancy holds up a green bean sliced down the middle lengthways.
Steve winces. âHow the hell did you think this is how you cut green beans.â
Eddie stands up. âThatâs it. Iâm going to hang out with Robin, at least she wonât make fun of me.â
âYou sure about that,â Argyle snorts.
âShe is just as bad as cooking as Eddie apparently is, itâs honestly fifty-fifty with how this goes.â Steve starts to peel the bowl of potatoes.
Eddie gives them the finger before shutting the door.
âSpeaking of,â Jonathan turns to face the kitchen, âDo we have a backup dessert for when Robin eventually ends up burning hers?â
Nancy gives Steve a death glare. âDo you want to explain or should I?â
Steve sighs. âI had parent teacher conferences yesterday and didnât have time to bake anything.â
âBecause.â
Another sigh. âBecause I went on a date with this girl Iâve been talking to for a few weeks.â
Argyle stiffens, having gotten close to Eddie in the past few months. Knowing how he feels about Steve. âI didnât know you were seeing anyone.â
Steve shrugs. âItâs not that serious to be honest. Weâve only been on the one date.â
âAnd now we will end up eating whatever Robin ends up burning because someone couldnât push it off until next week.â Nancy angrily jabs at the bread she is cutting.
âWoah, Nance, take a deep breath. Your parents arenât coming this year, itâs just us. Thereâs nothing to stress about.â Steve stops peeling the potatoes to try and rub her shoulder, only to get his hand swatted away.
âYeah,â Argyle agrees. âIâve eaten plenty of Robinâs burnt cookies, and Iâm still here. Some of them were pretty good actually.â
Steve gets a text from Robin.
Robin: Quick questions, how do I tell if the butter is browned
Robin sends an image
Steve: About five minutes before it looks like that
Robin: Shit
A while later, Steve is watching the stove while Nancy takes a break on the couch. Eddie opens the door, barely poking his head through before calling Steve into the hall. He calls Nancy back into the kitchen before heading out into the hall with Eddie.
âSo,â Eddie draws out as Steve closes the door. âWe have a bit of a problem.â
âOh God, what did she do?â
âThereâs beef involved.â
Steveâs eyes bug out. âWhat? Beef? How, I thought she was making a trifle.â
âShe mostly is,â Eddie says. âJust this cookbook is the weirdest one ever where the recipes are mixed in with each other instead of in their own sections. And itâs an old book, and some of the pages were stuck together. So, turn the page to get to the rest of the recipe, and itâs a recipe for shepherdâs pie.â
Steve makes a horrified face. âNancy is going to kill me. Like straight up murder. I will be dead tomorrow.â
âWhy? Robinâs the one making the dessert. Shouldnât she be the dead one.â
âThatâs the thing. I always have a backup dessert. Itâs a little game we play each year. Robin wants to try to bake again but leaves it in a little too long and it gets burnt. Or accidently adds salt instead of sugar. Or thinks she knows better than the recipe and adds too much flour. So, then I come in with another dessert for the people who donât like to eat burnt cake. She isnât the best at cooking, or baking, but she tries, and it brings her so much joy, so we let her do it and eat the dessert. But then mine is like the palate cleanser. Except this year there isnât a palate cleanser and weâre going to eat a trifle with beef in it.â Steve takes in a deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate.
Eddie nods, trying to process everything. âThatâs kind of sweet that you guys eat messed up baked goods just to make her happy.â
âYeah well, itâs Robin. No one really likes to make her upset. Which she will be if we let her know that this is a major fuck up.â
âSo weâre going to eat the beef dessert thing. Thereâs fruit and custard involved.â Eddie makes a disgusted face.
Steve gags at the thought. âYeah, yep, yes. We are. Iâm going to do damage control, you keep her happy. And if the pages become unstuck before the beef gets added, no one will be mad at you for interfering.â
âItâs already been done. There is no stopping it.â
âAlright then. Iâm going to go get murdered, itâs been nice knowing you.â
Eddie nods before going back into Robinâs apartment. Steve takes a deep breath before walking back into the apartment.
âWhat did Eddie want?â Nancy asks.
âNothing that important, Jon can I talk to you for a second.â Steve rushes past Nancy and pulls Jonathan into Eddieâs room. âWe have a problem.â
Jonathan adjusts his shirt. âOne that you had to physically pull me into a bedroom for.â
âYes. Robin mixed up two recipes and now thereâs beef in an English Trifle.â Steve makes a face like heâs bracing for impact.
Jonathan stands there silent for a few seconds, blinking. âIt was nice knowing you.â He pats Steve on the shoulder.
Steve rolls his eyes. âI am already very aware of the fact that I am dead, but we do in fact have to eat the beef trifle.â
âNo we donât,â Jonathan says with disbelief.
âItâs Robin,â Steve shrugs. âWe have to.â
Jonathan nods, pained. âWe do. Remind me to get super high before dessert comes out, it will help it all go down. Hell, I might like it.â
âYou mind telling Argyle about this, I have to go tell Nancy.â
âIâll go guard the knives. Good luck.â
Steve and Jonathan leave the room. Jonathan going over to Argyle and whispering something in his ear, Argyle seeming indifferent to the news. Steve takes a deep breath before asking Nancy to talk in her room.
âWhat happened?â Nancy cuts to the chase, crossing her arms.
âRobin. Lovely, sweet, kind, sometimes confused when it comes to baking, Robin. May have mixed up two recipes when making the dessert.â
Nancy takes the first part well. âThat doesnât seem too bad. They were both desserts, right?â
âThatâs the thing. Apparently, this book has the recipes mixed up and not in sections. So when the pages were stuck together, one page was an English trifle, and the other was a Shapardâs pie.â
âWhat,â Nancy yells. âHow can those to be mixed up?â
âI donât know, I wasnât there. I was here helping you with the rest of the food.â Steve takes a step back.
Nancy follows after her, slapping him on the arm. âI canât believe this. Robin is going to be crushed when we wonât eat it. Then sheâll be mortified when she realizes her mistake.â
Steve makes a pained face.
âSteve, weâre not going to eat this are we?â Nancyâs death glare sets in again.
âItâs Robin, of course we have to.â
Nancy starts hitting him again mixed in with anger about his mess up. When she calms down, she says, âI am doing this, not for you, but for Robin. Because I cannot even begin to think about how sheâs going to react when she figures this all out.â
Nancy leaves the room without saying another word. Steve goes back to the living room and flops on the couch, being dramatic about the nonexistent bruises that Nancy gave him. She did not hit him as hard as she could have, or wanted to.
âGet up you big baby and get your ass back into the kitchen,â Nancy says from the kitchen.
Steve turns his head towards Jonathan and Argyle. âYou know, sometimes I wonder why we broke up in college. And then I am reminded why.â He stands and goes to the kitchen.
part 2 coming tomorrow
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
29 notes
·
View notes
At some point in your friends au can we get The One with the Trifle I donât know who would be who but I still think it would be funny
I have finally figured out who is who, and this is the longest post I have written for these. Therefore, it will be in two parts. Part one is being posted tomorrow and part two on Thursday.
Let me set the scene.
Robin is not that great in the kitchen, but means well, so she is the one who mixes up the two recipes and makes the trifle.
Steve, who normally makes a backup dessert in case Robin's experiment fails, couldn't because he was out on a date.
Eddie witnessed Robin mixing up the two recipes and warned Steve about it.
Nancy is super stressed out about the meal anyway, and is mad at Steve for making a situation where Robin is going to be upset.
Jonathan and Argyle are getting high to hopefully be able to stomach eating the beef trifle.
28 notes
·
View notes
With All My Love
ao3 link if you don't want to read this on here.
One
It started with silence. Husk was never one to speak unless he had something to say. But when Angel came home from one of his many shifts, he always had something to poke at. Something to push and pry. Get a rise out of Angel and make him admit that he needed someone to talk to. That something was wrong.Â
Truthfully, something was wrong. It was always wrong when he came home from a shift, tired and bruised. Makeup a little heavier than when he left, depending on how the day went.Â
Today was too different. And then the day bled into night, and Angel felt the pull on his bones to go to a club. To drown himself in alcohol and coke, or something stronger, just to feel the haze start to erase his mind. Find some guy who wanted to fuck him, because most of them did anyway, just so that the last person who touched him wasnât Valentino.Â
Maybe then, he would be able to sleep a bit better.Â
But instead, he went home. His new home where he was trying to be better, trying to change. To be a person that looked in the mirror and didnât hate what he saw. He went home with a fresh bruise around his eye, already starting to purple, and his limbs so exhausted they might just fall off the bone. But he was still ready for the accusations of the man standing behind the bar.Â
Except they never came.Â
Instead, his drink was already poured and placed at his seat at the bar. The condensation just beginning to form on the glass, waiting for him. And he didnât even have to ask.
Angel sits down, taking a sip. The faint taste of alcohol rests on his tongue before he swallows. Heâs tempted to ask for something stronger. Something to wipe his mind off the day he just had. But he doesnât.Â
Instead, he looks at Husk and feels everything start to fade away. The man just cleaning glasses, putting them away softly. Waiting for Angel to say the first word between them. Waiting for Angel to choose to speak.Â
Giving Angel a chance to breathe.Â
âNot going to say anything, Whiskers?â Angel teases, trying to get under the otherâs skin. Still unsure of what is slowly blooming between them.Â
When Husk turns his face and looks at Angel for the first time since he left this morning, Angelâs breath canât help but stutter. And his heart stopped like he almost died again.Â
âWhat do you want me to say?â Husk replies in his low, uncaring voice. Even though Angel was starting to see right through it.Â
Angel huffed. âWell, normally you have somethinâ to say whenever I get home.â
âWell,â Husk leans on the bar, âsometimes ânormallyâ changes. And you looked like you didnât want to talk, so I didn't say anything. But if you want to talk, Iâll listen.â
Angelâs mouth is suddenly dry.Â
The dynamic between the two of them shifted some time ago, and Angel couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe it was a few months ago when Angel went out and Husk was the one who came looking. Maybe it was the time Cherri brought them out and Angel said no to the pills. Or maybe it was right before the battle when all Angel wanted to do was sit and talk to Husk. And the look that he knew painted his face as soon as Husk looked away.Â
The same face he felt the want to make now.Â
But now, he was tired. He felt used. His body was calling for sleep, and Angel knew he needed to go to bed. To his cold, empty bed.Â
Swallowing the rest of his drink, he stands. Takes a moment to bring the rest of his strength to his legs enough so he can walk up the stairs.Â
âThanks for the drink, Husk,â Angel says with a slight yawn. Too tired to talk with his persona, so he just talks. âNight.â
âHave a good night,â Husk says while Angel walks away. Each word pulling him back to his bar seat. Where he could talk to Husk for hours, or just sit there in the otherâs safe company.
As he walks towards the stairs, Angel feels the familiar tingle underneath his skin that lets him know heâs being watched. Only this time, he doesnât mind it. Doesnât feel pressured to put on a show.Â
Instead, he turns back and looks, catching Huskâs eyes for just a second before the other man turns away. A smile finds its way to Angelâs face and stays there until he finally falls asleep.Â
Two
âBut I donât want to marry the boring old duke,â the dead roach in Niftyâs hand says in the high-pitched voice itâs been designated. âHeâs too boring.â
âWell thatâs too bad,â the other roach with a much deeper voice grumbles. âYou have to for the family.â
The roach puppet shows are always something new. Angel was a bit disturbed by it all at first, but when the TV breaks down as much as it does, thereâs only so much entertainment. And if he was being honest, Nifty scared him, but he would never admit that.Â
But it made her happy, and kept him out of the stabbing line, so he watched. Laughed even. Enjoyed himself with people he grew to care about. Was able to let loose for a while.Â
Husk even joined in for this show on the couch instead of behind the bar. He was grumbling about being forced to care about this shit, but everyone knew it was just a facade.Â
Deep down, old Husker was a big softie. And Angel liked him for it. Liked the way he got to tease him about it.Â
Just for a second, Angel shifts his head under the ruse of fixing his hair, looking at Husk to his left. Just sitting with his arms crossed and a smirk resting on his face. At peace. Calm.Â
It was moments like these that Angel enjoyed the most. Where they could pretend that their lives were normal and the fate of their existence wasnât constantly up in the air. Where the chain wrapped around Angelâs neck was looser, and Huskâs was too as long as Alastor didnât need them.Â
They could be free for a moment. A brief fleeting moment, but it still felt amazing.Â
Angel ends up staring a bit too long, and Husk turns to catch Angelâs eye before he quickly turns away. Feeling a faint flush bloom in his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed.Â
Angel Dust doesnât get embarrassed, not like this. Heâs brash and flirtatious. Made every sex joke in the book, and every sex act in the book. Was the first to talk and fast to spit back the next line. He was great at improvising shit. But he didnât want to improvise this.Â
Husk shifts beside him. Moving his arms so that one rests on the arm of the couch, holding his head, while the other rests in between his and Angelâs legs. Lightly brushing against Angelâs lower hand, lying open facing upwards.Â
Itâs so soft that Angel would normally brush it off, but canât. The first brush is an accident, the second is a coincidence, the third is purposeful. Especially with the gentle press against Angelâs finger. Like Husk is telling him that his hand is resting between them for a reason.Â
Angel looks down, watches as the finger stays still. It did what it needed to do, got Angelâs attention. After that, it was all up to Angel for what happened. Husk wasnât going to push, not with this.Â
Gently, Angel slides his hand into Huskâs. Letting their fingers lock into place. With his lower hand, as the upper two are crossed over his chest. He may not be afraid of the spotlight, but sometimes things are best kept a secret. Silent.Â
Most of the things Husk does are quiet. Silent judging from behind the bar, simple smiles or smirks. He wasnât one for big shows of affection, or anything really. On the outside, Husk was a man who cared about nothing other than booze and the cards in his hand. But on the inside, Husk cared more than he liked to admit.Â
And he cared about Angel.Â
So much so that he didnât pull his hand away when Angel interlocked their fingers. Instead, he just gave it a squeeze, gently rubbing his thumb against Angelâs. Silent, simple, and sincere.Â
Niftyâs maniacal laughter brings Angelâs attention back to the roach show he was supposed to be paying attention to.Â
âAnd then, because she was forced to marry the very boring duke, she stabbed him in the chest while he was sleeping,â Nifty yells, no longer pretending to play with the roaches and fully just stabbing the duke with a sharp needle.Â
âFucking Christ,â Angel mumbles. âThat got dark.â
Husk chuckles. âYeah well, itâs Nifty, what did you expect?â
âIâm not sure.â
Three
âAnd then I said, âIf you like him so much, go ask him out on a date,â and he got so mad his entire screen of a face glitches. Like he actually glitched out like a fuckinâ broken TV,â Angel laughs.Â
Husk lets out a low chuckle, cleaning up Angelâs latest empty glass. âOverlordâs and their shitty tempers.â
âLiterally. And then Val gets all pissy just because I offended his boyfriend. It was worth it though just to see the sick fuck go off on a tirade. The shoot ended early cause Val needed to do damage control or some shit.â
âAh, thatâs why youâre bugging me this early in the day. Normally I get a few hours of peace before you defile the bar with your presence.â
Angel props his head up with his hands. âAww Husky, and here I thought you were starting to like me.â
âAnd what if I was,â Husk asks, looking Angel up and down.Â
Blood rushes to Angelâs cheeks. Heâs used to being hit on. Used to being the object of desire. But just that, an object. Angel Dust was who the people wanted. The persona, the whore. All things that Angel usually prided himself on. He did like sex after all.Â
But this was different. When people hit on him, they wanted something. He knew that, they knew that. It was all just a ruse to get him into bed and sleep with the famous porn star. Didnât matter if Angel was left broken afterward, or if he was too drugged or high to remember who it was. It was purely physical. Thatâs all Angel was used to.Â
This wasnât physical. Whenever Husk gave it back after one of Angelâs lines, it was real. Husk didnât bullshit. He gave it straight, not caring what others thought of him. Always said his opinion, not caring if anyone asked to hear it. It wasnât easy to get on his good side. Until it was.Â
Until Husk looked at him with those eyes after saying a line that was geared to make Angel pounce. But instead, it just melts everything inside of him to a useless fucking puddle on the ground. Leaving him vulnerable and defenseless. But he didnât care, because Husk made Angel feel something again. Something real instead of just pure pain.Â
Part of him was terrified. Itâs been so long since he felt like this, and the last time he did left him fucking broken in more ways than he could count. He should be cautious, should run away. Lock himself in the deep confines of his mind and let Angel Dust take over again. Ruin all of his progress just to get high and forget all over again.Â
But the other part of him wants to reach out. Grab the thing that itâs always wanted, but never got to have. Finally find a way to break free of the chains and live the life that he wanted to. That he chose. Angel was born into a certain life that he couldnât get out of, and was bound by a contract in his afterlife.Â
Maybe just this once, Angel would get to choose something that would end up making him happy.Â
âWell,â Angel says. âThat would just mean thereâs a big softie behind all that fluff.â
Husk huffs, rolling his eyes, mixing a drink. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âIf you say so.â Angel watched Husk pour the drink into a glass. âThat looks like a fruity drink ya got there. Not normally your style.â
âNo, itâs not,â Husk laughs. âThatâs because itâs not for me.â He places the drink in front of Angel, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pours a drink for himself.Â
Angel stares at the drink in front of him. âI-. How did you know this is what I wanted? I didnât ask for it.â
âYou went to work so you wanted something strong to begin with to cool down but the day wasnât terrible and youâre in a good mood right now, so you want to switch to something more flavorful on the tongue,â Husk rattles off as if itâs nothing. âAm I right?â
Angel feels as if he canât move. Heart pounding in his ears with something that feels like panic. Like his shell was ripped away and heâs left defenseless and raw. Open for anyone to see what hides inside.Â
And Husk is just waiting for a response as if this wasnât a whole psychoanalyzed therapist situation. Like he didnât just read Angel perfectly in a way no one has before. Or in a way that he ever wanted.Â
The walls threaten to rebuild, the mask already halfway down his face. He has to remind himself that this was Husk. Husk was safe. He wouldnât play with Angelâs mind, with his emotions. He wasnât a psychopath freak. He cares.Â
Husk knowing Angel wasnât a bad thing, so Angel shouldnât make it a bad thing.Â
âYeah,â Angel whispers, mouth dry. âYeah, youâre right.âÂ
He takes a sip of the drink, almost tipping it higher to throw it back in one gulp. Get on with it so he can stop feeling so vulnerable. So known. But when the sweet taste of the drink hits his tongue, with the slight tinge of the strong alcohol that canât quite get covered up, it doesnât betray him. If anything, itâs better than the hundreds of drinks heâs had like this before. Because someone knew him enough to know exactly what he wanted before he could say it, and it was right.Â
It wasnât an assumption that was harmful or wrong. Wasnât one that put pressure on Angel to say yes to. It was a simple drink with nothing attached. Nothing hidden inside. Nothing in the space between the lines.Â
Angel takes another sip, reveling in the taste of it. In the experience. Husk continues the conversation, saying something that makes Angel laugh. Really laugh. The kind that makes eyes water and lungs heave.Â
And for the first time, Angel doesnât feel afraid of being known. Not if heâs being known like this.Â
Four
Angel wakes up to Fat Nuggets rubbing gently against his face. A small beam of light came through his open blinds illuminating his room. Soft sheets tangled around his limbs as sleep calls to him again.Â
Gently shooing away Fat Nuggets, Angel rolls over, Untangling the sheets and pulling them up to his chin. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table before closing his eyes again. Only for the time to register as his eyes fly open.Â
âFuck, itâs ten,â he whispers to himself, one of his hands running through his hair. Charlie never lets him sleep this late, not on days when there are seminars and lessons. Picking up his phone, he checks the shared calendar for the hotel. There was definitely supposed to be an activity this morning.
Charlieâs never late. And never misses his absence. If he didnât wake up himself, she wasnât far behind to burst into his room along with the harsh light from the hallway. Why was he allowed to sleep this late? Undisturbed?
Not that heâs complaining, really. For the first time in a while, he actually feels refreshed. Looks like it too, without any help from his makeup bag. And if no one has come to get him yet, he might as well make the best of it.Â
Getting up from his bed, he notices a piece of paper that was slipped under his door. Picking it up, he reads the note.
Convinced Charlie to give the hotel a day off and let you sleep. Take a bath or some shit.Â
-Husk
Angels smiles to himself, laughing a little. Places the note on his dresser before walking to the bathroom. Bringing a set of comfortable clothes with him.Â
He washes his face, does his hair. Everything he normally does but slower, more carefree. He has time in the morning for once. He savors it. Gets dressed in a sweatshirt and soft shorts. Puts on less makeup than normal. Relaxes. Because he can.Â
He spies the note on his dresser again. Picking it up and reading it again. Angel hasnât felt like this in a long time. Like his heart was lighter in his chest. Like everything felt lighter. Even the corners of his lips rise without him telling them to. A stupid smile forms, he knows. But he lets it stay. Real things deserve to stay.Â
Walking over to his mirror, he takes a piece of tape and sticks the note to the side among the other pictures. He doesnât really know why. Just that it needed to be there. And if it happened to be underneath a picture that Angel forced Husk to take with him, that was his business.Â
When he does go downstairs, there is laughter coming from the living room. Charlie and Vaggie sit on the couch watching a movie. Nifty is running around chasing bugs. Alastor is fuck knows where but thatâs not important.Â
What is important is Husk standing behind the bar like he always is. Cleaning some glasses that are probably already clean just to bide time. He didnât have to work today, Charlie gave them a day off. Which should include Husk. But there he is waiting behind the bar for Angel. Like he always is.Â
Husk sees him approaching and smiles at him, even if Angel knows he tried not to. âThought I wasnât going to see you till noon,â Husk comments as Angel takes a seat.Â
âThought about it, but then I wouldnât be here talking with you.â Angel rests his head on his hand. âThank you.â
Husk looks down at the bar, a little sheepish. There might even be a blush behind all that fur. âWhat for?â
Angel laughs. âIf you wanted to stay anonymous, you shouldnât have left a note.â
âThat would be a dead ringer,â Husk snorts. âThereâs still some breakfast left if youâre hungry.â
âOnly if you come eat some with me. I donât like to eat alone,â Angel flirts. It wasnât exactly untrue, he does prefer to eat with other people around. Just doesnât most of the time. âYou said Charlie gave the hotel a day off, that should include you, Whiskers.â He reaches across the bar to poke Huskâs nose.Â
Husk swats his hand away. âNot exactly how that works. I work here.â
âSo,â Angel questions, determined to give him some time off too.Â
âJust how it is,â Husk shrugs, going back to cleaning glasses.Â
âFor fuckâs sake,â Angel turns, looking toward the living room. âHey Charlie,â he calls out, âCan Husk have the day off too?â
âAbsolutely,â Charlie beams. âWe all have the day off today, including the lovely staff.â
âSee,â Angel gloats, turning back to Husk. âSo unless you really donât want to have breakfast with me, you are out of excuses, Husky.â
Husk sighs, finishing the glass he was polishing and placing it back on the shelf. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he starts to leave the bar. âArenât you coming?â
Angel canât help the smile that forms on his face. âYou can say this is my payback, for this morning.â He walks with Husk to the kitchen.Â
âDonât have to pay me back, it was nothing.â
âOh my fucking god, canât let me say thank you, can you? You did somethinâ nice for me let me thank you for it.â
Husk smirks. âNo.â
Five
Angel isnât quite sure how heâs still standing. He canât feel his legs, having become numb halfway through his shift and stayed that way since then. His arms fall limp at his sides, barely able to reach the door handle when he gets to the hotel.Â
This is a new for him. He is never this sore. Never this tired. Never this used. Today was excruciating, to say the least. Val was pissed about something and took it out on him. Like normal. Like always. But this time was worse. It just keeps getting worse.Â
There was a time when Angel liked his job. Liked the attention it gave him. The money. The fame. But now all of that is a sick reminder of the permanency of ink-stained paper. And a name that is no longer his.Â
Now, he comes home bone tired and ready to crash for a millennium. But harsh reality comes in each morning in the form of a wake-up call and breakfast that he can barely stomach. He wants to just sleep. Hoping that when he wakes up heâs able to wash what happened to him away in the shower. Knowing that itâs all just going to happen again. And again. Forever.Â
Last weekâs surprise was a blessing. Getting more than five hours of sleep, feeling refreshed. He hoped the same miracle would come tomorrow. With another note under his door that makes him feel like everything doesnât suck. That tells him that someone does actually care about him.Â
Somehow that was possible. Somehow Husk could look at all the ways Angel was fucked up and still decide that he deserved another glance. Angel knows he doesnât deserve it. There was so much better out there than him. With everything that was broken, not able to be fixed. He was damaged goods and knew what that meant.Â
The door doesnât even shut before Angel falls into it, slamming it closed. His legs shake as he tries to stay standing, trying to push himself off the door. Eyes spying the stairs that taunt him. Will take everything out of him. Just one flight between him and his bed. Where the satin sheets can cover up the marks that will be bruises, and the tears can fall where no one sees.Â
All he has to do is climb the stairs.Â
He takes a trembling step forward, coming into the light of the hotel. A few more steps and his knees buckle. He starts to fall. But gray flashes before his eyes and suddenly he isnât falling anymore. Warm arms wrap around his torso, holding him upright.Â
âCome on,â Husk mumbles, throwing Angelâs right arms over his shoulder. âLetâs get you to bed.â
Angel has a line waiting at the tip of his tongue, but doesnât have the energy to say it. Or to protest the idea of being helped. When heâs fully upright again, he leans all he can on Husk, feeling the slight relief of less weight on his feet.Â
The stairs prove as difficult as Angel thought they would be, but he doesnât fall. Husk doesnât let him. He almost picks Angel up entirely in order to get them both up the stairs. Angel almost lets him.Â
When they reach Angelâs room, Husk opens the door and carefully walks them through the doorway. Fat Nuggets runs up to them, rubbing at Angelâs leg when he senses that somethingâs wrong.Â
Husk leads Angel to the bed, pulling back the sheets before helping Angel lay down. Thereâs part of Angelâs mind that has a blaring siren. A warning that things are going to turn bad as soon as the door closes. But this is Husk. He hasnât hurt Angel yet, he wouldnât start now.Â
âYou need help getting changed?â Husk asks gently, placing a glass of water on Angelâs bedside table.Â
Angel tries to ignore what that means when other people say it. Just focusing on what it means when Husk does. âJust, just help me get the jacket off. And the boots.âÂ
The room is still dark, so Husk canât see what lies underneath. The marks, the faint bruises still left on his skin. Part of the job, for most of them. But some of them, theyâre damning. But even if the light was on, Angel had a feeling that Husk wouldnât say anything about them right now. Heâd ask later, let Angel decide if he wanted to share or not. He can tell that tonight has already been enough.
Husk helps him sit up, undoing the buttons on the front of his jacket. Gently sliding the fabric off his arms, leaving him bare. Taking off his boots next, leaving him in his socks. Angel points him to the drawer in his dresser that holds the soft shirts he likes to sleep in.Â
Thereâs something intimate about this moment. Being taken care of without any pretenses or conditions. By someone who cares more deeply than theyâd like to admit. Even being here in this moment is something that wouldnât have happened a few months ago. The walls each of them built over time started to lower together. And it led to this.Â
As the fabric gets pulled over his head, and onto his upper pair of arms, Angel feels safe. Safe with another person seeing him like this. Without a camera in sight, or payment in the end. That all stops the second his eyes meet Husks. When he starts to feel love for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.Â
It hits Angel like a truck when Husk helps him lay down in his bed. Angel loves him. He didnât even know if that was possible anymore. After the last time he fell in love went to shit, he swore it off all together. Determined that anyone that would ever spare him a second glance would want one thing and then fuck out of his life forever.Â
But here Angel is completely defenseless, and Husk doesnât make him feel like he is. It might be common decency, and his bar for romance might be six feet under, but that face makes his heart pound faster than it ever has. With a singular word, Husk would stop what heâs doing and leave. Angel doesnât want him to, though. He very much does not want him to.Â
The sheets are draped over Angelâs shoulders, covering him in warmth. Sleep calls to him, his eyes almost closing when his head finally hits the pillow. He needs to say something before he can sleep.Â
âWait,â Angel says, reaching out to grab Huskâs arm when he turns to leave. âStay, please.âÂ
Angel doesnât like to be alone on nights like this. Before he moved to the hotel, Cherri would sneak in through the window and stay with him. Lay next to him when he cried after the high wore off and the hurt set in. Now was different, he was sober, for what it was worth. It only made the hurt worse, though.Â
The only reason why he isnât crying right now is because heâs too tired for the tears to form. For the anger to bubble and the rage to set in. To want to find a way to go over to Valâs stupid fucking studio and rip the wings off his chest and put a million bullets through his head. He canât, but he wants to.Â
But he still wants another person here when he falls asleep. Extra protection. For his body and his mind. If that person was specifically Husk, it shouldnât matter that much. Yet it did. He was in love for Christâs sake. Even if it wasnât reciprocated, he wanted to pretend like it was. To feel safe with someone for just another moment. To go to sleep thinking that hell might be heaven enough for them.Â
Husk doesnât say another word, but walks around the bed. Angel rolls over with a wince and holds the covers up for him, letting him know that it was ok. The bed dips when Husk lays down, keeping a small distance between them. Angel wants it gone, but that could be a later issue.Â
Right now, his eyes finally shut as he finally falls asleep.
+One
Warmth radiates beside Angel when he starts to wake up. Comforting warmth. Such a drastic difference from the cold sheets that greet him each morning. Enough to pull him back to sleep. Comfortable sleep.Â
Angel moves closer to the warmth. He falls back asleep.Â
When he wakes up again, his eyes blink open fully this time. Confused at the textured feeling under his hand. Running his fingers through what feels like fur, the events of last night come back to the forefront of his mind. His eyes finally meet Huskâs sleeping face.Â
Itâs so peaceful. So quiet. Other than the heavy breaths and gentle snores. A smile finds Angelâs face as he takes it all in. He feels so safe itâs crazy. And so many other things that he can barely name. Mushy, mostly.Â
He takes his hand and brings it up to Huskâs face, brushing past his cheek and gently scratching at the side of his neck. Husk makes a sound, scaring Angel into thinking that he woke up. But he just lays his head back down and his heavy breaths resume. This time with a slight purr.Â
Itâs stupid how much this makes Angel feel. How soft he feels. Finally knowing what all of those love songs were talking about. He thought them stupid back when he was alive, even more so when he was dead. It was all fake, too good to be true. But good and true were synonymous now. Thereâs no mistaking it anymore.Â
Peaceful, is all Angel can think. He didnât know love was supposed to be this peaceful. It never seemed like it was. With the screaming matches his parents would have, and the way people treated him. Love never seemed this way.Â
Heâs sure that there will be moments where it wonât feel peaceful. Where heâll mess up and cause an argument, defenses raised. Knowing how he can be when heâs upset. When he feels broken and unfixable. Huskâs already seen some of it, back when Angel didnât care about him like this. Husk ever held him against it. Letting that moment be in the past. Even in the moment, Husk didnât make Angel feel lesser, only equal.Â
âI love you,â Angel whispers in the dark. Not even realizing that the words slipped out of his mouth. Needing to say the words somewhere other than his head in order to make them feel real.Â
He doesnât know what heâs going to do about it. Or if Husk even feels the same. Thereâs something between them, he can feel it. But this. This is so much more than attraction. So much more than a drunken night or tangled sheets. Angel wants more than the physical this time. Without even knowing what the physical is. Theyâve never even kissed, let alone anything else.Â
Yet, he feels so sure about this. So fucking sure it scares him.Â
âI love you, too,â Husk whispers back, his eyes opening slightly.Â
Angel pulls back his hand in shock, fear filling his head. âWhat?â
Huskâs wings stretch out in a flutter as he lets out a yawn. âI said I love you.â
âI thought you were asleep,â Angel says in disbelief, not registering what Husk had said.Â
Husk laughs. âI wasnât really, could still hear you.â
Angel rolls onto his back, burying his face in all four of his hands. âFucking hell, this is so embarrassing.â
âWhy is it embarrassing?â Husk props himself up on his arm.Â
âBecause I only said what I said because I thought you were asleep. Now youâre awake and probably thinking Iâm this fucking idiot and whatever friendship we had is now fucking ruined because I opened my stupid fucking mouth. Cause you donât feel the same. How could you when Iâm such a broken fucking mess? I just-. Just donât hate me, please. I canât lose you just because I was stupid.â
Angel doesnât look at Husk until he starts laughing. Full on laughing, dropping down onto the bed and rubbing his hands down his face. A flush finds Angelâs face, and embarrassment fills him as he turns his head away. Making him want to curl up and make himself smaller.Â
Bearing his soul to another person wasnât easy, but it was easier when it was Husk. Now heâs shared one of the most vulnerable things anyone can, and Husk is laughing at him.Â
âI get I was an idiot, but you donât have to laugh at me like that, asshole.â Angel sits up, pulling his legs close to his chest and resting his chin on his knee.Â
âNo,â Husk gets out between laughs. âNo, no, thatâs not why Iâm laughing. Did you hear what I said at all?â
He knew Husk said something, but didnât pay attention. Too riddled with shock and embarrassment for anything to register. âNo,â he admits, sheepish.
Husk sits up and Angel can feel his gaze. âAngel, could you look at me for a second?â
Angel turns his head, not sure what heâs expecting. But Huskâs face is so soft, so gentle. Looking at Angel with admiration instead of disgust. Like Angelâs something special instead of a piece of broken glass left on the ground. Without trying, his heart starts to beat a little faster and thereâs the tight pull of nerves at his stomach. He doesnât feel like he ruined anything anymore.Â
âI said that I love you. All of you. Everything that you think is broken and everything that I know isnât,â Husk says like he means it. Like this isnât just some big joke.Â
âYou love me?â Angel whispers, waiting for the other shoe to drop and the curtain to come crashing down. No one can say those words and truly mean them. No one has. Even if his heart is telling him that this is true, his brain convinces him that itâs fake.Â
Husk shifts closer to Angel, gently pulling Angelâs hands away from his legs. Breaking down his defenses. The touch so gentle, so nondemanding. Heâs not asking for anything other than Angel to understand. To tell the voice in his head whispering itâs a trap to shut up. Thereâs no pressure behind the movements. No expectations.Â
âI love you,â Husk states, like itâs some fact in a history book. Taking his hands and cupping Angelâs face, brushing a stray strand of hair up out of the way. âAnd Iâll say it as many times as it takes you to believe it.â
Angel forgot what it felt like to have something like this. Where the sparks are so bright theyâre almost visible. Tension so thick not even the sharpest blade could cut through it. Both people in it just as much as the other. With nothing else behind the words they said. Just pure truth.Â
A soft smile forms on Angelâs face. And if a small line of tears formed in his eyes, no one mentioned it. âI love you, too.â
Husk for the first time in what feels like forever, is left speechless. Mouth opening and closing, like heâs trying to say something but nothing comes. Instead, the softest smile forms on his face. Like Angel just did something that was worth the world to Husk.Â
He doesnât understand it. With the way Husk was, it was easy to love him. No one ever wanted to see past the persona enough to actually care about Angel. Thatâs all Husk wanted to do. Everything else paired with that, it was easy to fall. Angel on the other hand, heâs harder to deal with. Loving him is harder.Â
It doesnât feel like it anymore. Not with the way Husk holds him like he doesnât believe itâs real. Expression is rich with disbelief. Maybe he too was scared that this was never going to happen. That someone could never love him for the way he is.Â
Being honest with himself, Angel knows that Husk isnât perfect. The same ways that he isnât perfect either. They both have their vices. Their reasons why theyâre here. But despite all of that, they found each other. Someone who can understand better than anyone else in the hotel. Maybe even in Hell.Â
Angel takes his hand and cups Huskâs face. Revels in the way Husk presses into the touch. Using the others, he pulls Husk closer, letting their foreheads meet. Letting this moment be this moment and not pushing for anything else. Even if he wanted to, they had time.Â
Husk takes a deep breath, still a part of him not believing this is real. Angelâs feeling the same. Pulling back, Husk looks at Angel studying his face. Eyes drifting down to his lips before jumping back to his eyes. Angel does the same, nodding slowly.Â
When their lips meet, itâs nothing that Angelâs ever experienced before. Heâs kissed a lot of people, but never like this. Never where his love was truly reciprocated. Where thereâs no pushing in the motion, using it as a key to something else. The other person wanting only this and nothing else.Â
Itâs refreshing. All of this is.Â
89 notes
·
View notes
Thanks for the tag @goodolefashionedloverboi
Currently watching: 911, this so is seriously so good
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: they all have their moments, but out of the three spice is my least favorite. I switch back and forth between sweet and savory depending on my mood
Relationship status: single, very much so
Current obsession: watching people freak out over the 911 episodes I have not gotten to yet, itâs getting me excited for things I hope are going to happen
Last thing I googled: Whether or not Noah Kahanâs song Someone Like You was a cover or not cause I did not know that he wrote it. I am just now realizing the version I had heard before was the cover, interesting
Some no pressure tags: @beverlysclown and thatâs all I can think of at this moment. So if you see this, considered yourself tagged
I have been tagged smh smhâ looking at you @systembug
Currently watching: eerrrmmmâ sweats in man who canât start series last I was trying to watch was my rewatch of cells at work (I Lurv Lurv Lurv it so much đ„°đ„°đ„°) and was trying to start the ace attorney anime (also lurv a lot) & I think rewatch one punch man or maybe assassination classroomâ
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: probably sweet and savory depending on the mood, not the hugest spicy fan but I will sometimes enjoy it also :3
Relationship status: currently single and not really looking to mingle đ traditional relationships donât tend to be my bag for many reasons (aro/Ace spec moment B>) but I do love having some homies to vibe with o7
Current obsession: warhammerâ oh god warhammer- ya guys donât understand manâ I have so many ocs I havenât posted itâs so bad- / pos I just Lurv it so so so much đ„șđ„ș would kill for warhammer- chewing on my space marine figures so so so so so much arghhh (also yeah in the span of like 3 weeks I bought 5 action figures for warhammer bc I am in fact obsessed) the irls and non-warhammer mutuals fear when its name is mentioned /J
Last thing I googled: Military nicknames
For some ideas for some guardsmen ocs ^w^
Hehehe @m0rbidm1nk @thrill-zilla-0v0 @krynnmeridia @wolf-tail @v01d-v0r4c10us an invite for you guys :)!! If yâall wanna ofc ofc
74 notes
·
View notes
part 1
The next day, thereâs someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isnïżœïżœïżœt as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished.Â
But heâs alive. That has to count for something.
Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddieâs wrist. So heâd be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he wonât get carted off to jail as soon as heâs stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home.Â
Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But itâs right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up.Â
Itâs been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while heâs trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didnât want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. Heâs not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes.Â
Because it will be. Wayneâs seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddieâs torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. Thereâs no doubt that heâs been through something unimaginable. Life changing.Â
As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. Heâs not ready for him to wake up changed.Â
Thereâs a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayneâs expecting a nurse to check Eddieâs vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and heâs progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasnât too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now.Â
But instead of a nurse walking through the door, itâs the Chief.Â
âCan I sit?â He motions to the chair next to Wayne.
âI suppose.â
The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. âI hear heâs been in a coma for a few days now.â
Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst.Â
âIâve known a few people whoâve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.â
âIâd like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,â Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. âThat way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.â
The Chief takes a deep breath. âIâm not fully reinstated yet. I donât have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-â
âEven if what?â Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. âEven if heâs innocent. I know heâs innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didnât deserve. Still is. When Iâm afraid he might never wake up the same again. So Iâd like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.â
Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. âYou smoke?â
Wayne scoffs. âThat really what you're thinking of right now?â
âAnswer the question.â Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe thereâs more to his words.Â
âI do.â
âGreat,â he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. âCome on, letâs go.â
Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesnât really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone.Â
âYeah, Iâm free tomorrow. Canât wait to sleep in my own bed. No donât do that. Cause I donât think itâs time to throw a party yet, not while.â He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. âJust wonât feel right without all of us.â
Wayne has no clue who heâs talking about, but itâs probably not Eddie. Hopes it isnât. He still doesnât know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddieâs innocent. Doesnât forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldnât be surprised if they all were true.Â
The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where thereâs no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears.Â
âWhat I say does not leave this conversation,â he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. âGot it?â
Wayne nods.Â
âI know Eddieâs innocent. But thereâs some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and theyâre looking for a fall guy. And Iâm trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isnât your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.â
âI donât even know how to start processing what you just said.â Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway.Â
The Chief laughs. âThat was all of us the first time this happened. Iâd say it gets easier but it really doesnât.â
âThe first time?â
âThereâs a lot more to this town than meets the eye.â
âHow do I know your word is any good?â
The Chief considers this for a moment. âYou donât really. But who else do you know who can fix this?â
With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope heâs wishing wonât get put out.
I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.
also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar
887 notes
·
View notes
Krobus is enjoying the new waterfalls...
20K notes
·
View notes
The One with the Banishment
This is a continuation of the previous post, because the tags from @puppy-steve inspired me to continue it.
A few hours later, Robin is awoken from her own nap with a knock on the door. Steve asleep on the couch, head flopped on his shoulder. Snoring. She unwraps herself from her blanket, heading for the door.
âOh god,â she says when it opens to Eddie wrapped in a blanket, pale as a ghost.
âNancy said you have soup,â he whispers, voice hoarse.
Robin groans, knowing that Nancy had more cans of soup. Or could just make something. Thereâs an ulterior motive here.
âGet in here.â Robin steps out of the way to let him through.
Eddie waddles through the door to the living room. Looking confused when he gets there.
âSit next to Steve.â Robin nudges Steve.
Steve jolts awake, sucking in so much air is sends him into a coughing fit. Robin makes a disgusted face as it continues into a sniffling mess. He turns to grab some tissues but sees Eddie next to him. Making the most delirious confused face ever. âIâm not hallucinating him here, right?â
Eddie laughs, which also sends him into a coughing fit. âIn your dream, Harrington,â he gets out between coughs.
Robin stares at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. âIâm going to kill her. I swear, Iâll do it.â
âWho are we killing,â Steve slurs out after making way too much noise blowing his nose.
âNancy.â
He pulls the blanket back up to his chin with a shiver. âWhy, Nancyâs so nice.â
âNot that nice,â Eddie rasps. âShe sent me over here just so she doesnât have to deal with me.â
Steve makes a half angry face, eyes fighting to stay awake. âThatâs not nice.â
Eddie tries to make a dramatic gesture, but his arms fall when they get halfway through the air. âI know.â
âWhat a bitch,â Steve concludes, looking like heâs going to fall asleep again.
âRight now, Iâd have to agree.â Robin nudges Steve awake again. âDonât fall asleep, you need more cold medicine. And to eat something.â
Steve rolls his eyes but sits up straighter anyway.
âEddie, whenâs the last time you had cold medicine?â
Eddie shrugs under his blanket, somehow shivering.
Robin nods, annoyed. âGreat. Please hold.â She walks across the hall and bangs on the door. Nancy opens it with a sorry smile.
âHey, Robbie. Soup not good? Need more tea?â
âYou sacked Eddie with me so you donât get sick, didnât you.â She crosses her arms.
Nancy looks guilty. âSort of. If you donât mind.â
âLike heâll have enough energy to make it to the bathroom let along across the hall again. And if heâs fine bunking with Steve, I donât really have a problem with it. I just need all the cold medicine you have since Iâm playing nurse.â
âThatâs fair.â Nancy heads to the bathroom and comes back with a few things of cold medicine and a bag of cough drops. âHereâs all I have. I gave Eddie this about four hours ago, so he should get more soon.â
Robin takes it. âThank you. I expect a few more cans of soup and another box of tea in my apartment by dinner tonight.â
âDonât you think thatâs pushing it a little bit?â
Robin glares at Nancy. âIâm already regretting leaving them unsupervised for this long.â
Nancy winces. âYeah, youâre right. Iâll go get some for you.â
âThank you.â
When Robin gets back to her apartment, Steve and Eddie are having some kind of conversation. Or it at least seems like one. Theyâre grunting one after another, if thatâs what it is. Honestly, they sound a bit like birds.
She silently closes the door behind her and places the medicine on the counter. Takes out her phone to take a video of them, evidence for later. Also, because Argyle would love to see this.
And he does, sends a message back saying that they sound like penguins. It makes Robin burst out laughing, Steve and Eddie trying to look back to see whatâs wrong. She waves them off, starting to warm up the soup on the stove while trying to stop laughing.
âYay, drugs,â Eddie whispers when Robin hands him more cold medicine. Making Steve go into a cough-laughing fit again. Robin should get paid for this shit.
She brings them the soup when itâs done. In their fancy bowls with handles on the side so they can drink it better. Itâs interesting to watch them eat, but the steam clears up their noses enough so they can breathe.
Nancy knocks on the door later that afternoon, a bag full of soup and tea standing outside the door when Robin gets it.
Robin: You could have waited for me to answer the door
Nancy: Not going to risk it
Robin: Jesus Christ
Steve and Eddie had fallen asleep on top of each other. Each halfway leaning towards the middle of the couch, the only thing holding them up being each other. Robin takes a few pictures, debating to wake them up for more medicine.
But she doesnât have to this time. A few minutes later, Eddie is pushing off the blanket and accidently hits Steve in the face. Making him hit Eddie in the head with his own when his reflexes kick in. They both wake up with a groan.
Robin laughs again. âYou two are the most helpless idiots I will ever know.â
âYouâre mean.â Eddie sits up, rubbing the spot where Steveâs head hit him. Steve sits up too, holding the cheek that was elbowed. Robin gets them both an ice pack. Then more medicine.
Later that night, Robin makes them stand up so she can rearrange the living room to pull out the bed from the couch. Itâs their rule whenever one of them is sick. Much easier to sleep in the living room so thereâs less obstacles to run into when going to the bathroom. She makes up the bed and lets them fall into it.
They fall asleep almost instantly, with weird sick snores because they canât breathe that well right now. She heads to the bathroom, takes an extra long shower to scrub off as many germs as she can. Even if she knows thatâs not exactly how it works. Takes her temperature and refills her little pocket hand sanitizer. Sheâs good for now.
The next morning, Steve and Eddie are a sick pretzel. Eddieâs blanket thrown across the room at some point, so he stole Steveâs. Pulling both Steve and the blanket on top of him since he was completely rolled in it. Half of their limbs hanging off of the bed, with one wrong move the rest of their body would follow.
Robin laughs and takes out her phone, taking a picture and sending it to Nancy.
Robin: Look at our boys
Nancy: Omg, they did that in their sleep?
Robin: Yep
Nancy: How are they?
Robin: Donât know, havenât woken them up yet
Robin: Needed evidence of this
Nancy: Let me know when you do
Nancy: I canât keep Eddie away from his things for too long, just until heâs not contagious anymore
Robin: Thanks for sacrificing me again
Robin: Makes me feel so appreciated
Nancy: I already apologized and bought you food, what else could you possibly want
Robin: Iâll think of something
A message from Argyle pop up of Robinâs phone, making her burst out laughing again.
Argyle: Maybe we could convince Eddie to give Steve a rock and then theyâll be penguin married
Robin: I just laughed so hard I woke them up
Argyle: Oops, sorry dude
Robin: Donât be, that was hilarious
Robin: It also would stop their dumbassery
Argyle: That it would indeed
Eddie wakes up with a coughing fit, the extra weight of Steve definitely not helping. After the initial confusion, Steve manages to role himself off of Eddie and lays on his back, struggling to breathe. Robin takes a deep breath, grabbing the cold meds and doing it all over again.
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
85 notes
·
View notes
Eddie was still in the coma, attached to so many tubes it made Wayne sick to look at sometimes. But they were keeping him alive, so heâll manage. They were making sure he got to see his boy awake again.
There was still a metal cuff that was attached to his wrist. The other end attached to the bar of the hospital bed. As if he could spring up at any moment and just escape. When heâs been half dead for days. When Wayne hasnât seen his eyes open since before Eddie went into hiding.Â
He hasnât seen his boy for over a full week. Even though heâs been lying there on the bed for the last few days. Eddie wonât be back with Wayne until he wakes up. If he wakes up.
Everyday Wayneâs been here in between his shifts. Canât afford to take the days off, with having to get a new place and all. Part of his paycheckâs paying for the hotel room heâs staying in while trying to find somewhere new to live. Even the abandoned houses are too pricy, and the trailer parkâs in shambles.Â
Honestly, if he could, heâd be pulling as many doubles as possible just to get a new place and soon. But that would mean not being here. Might miss when he wakes up. Wayne doesnât want to miss that.Â
Itâs not like heâs lonely here either. Thereâs been other visitors. The kid that Eddie always talked about from his dungeon game. The one that he secretly liked above the rest of the freshmen. His bandmates came by once, looking guilty as hell when they did. They havenât been back since.Â
Thereâs been a few other people Wayne hasnât recognized. A few more kids from the club, some he didnât even know Eddie knew. But they always came to check in before heading across the hall to see the boy there. The Harrington boy.Â
Wayne recognized it was him one day when the door was left open. He was asleep, with an IV in his arm along with some other cords. Not as many as his boy, but still there. There was a girl in there too, short brown hair and wearing a baggy jacket with some patches. She was holding his hand. It never seemed like she let it go.Â
The same girl checked in on Eddie a few times. Tried to make small talk with Wayne but left when she realized he was disinterested. Always heading back to the Harrington boy.Â
All he knew is that they both came in at the same time. Got admitted one after the other, but Wayne didnât know what order. That they both had to go through some type of surgery to deal with the injuries. Though he hears Harringtonâs was more cosmetic than anything. Eddieâs was to save his life.Â
Not that heâs judging. People could do whatever they wanted for all he cared. There were different doctorâs for different things. Priorities and all that. He just hoped that Harringotn wasnât higher up on the list than Eddie was. Eddie was clearly the one in the worst condition.Â
The kid that kept visiting Eddie went over there a lot too. Dustin, is the kidâs name. Wayne canât remember it half the time, heâs too busy focusing on something else. And just bone tired. But after Dustin sits next to Wayne for a while, updates Eddie on everything thatâs happened that day, sometimes reads to him, he heads right across the hall and does it all again. Every single time.Â
Wayne has no clue how this boy could possibly be close with both Eddie and the Harrington kid. Itâs not like they were in the same circles. Or seemed to remotely like each other at all. Wayne can explicitly remember the Harrington boy being apart of one of Eddieâs hate filled rampages. But if heâs remembering right, there was something different that really pissed Eddie off about him. Something thatâs wrapped up in the same reason Wayneâs never seen Eddie bring a girl home.Â
But day after day, Dustin goes to Steveâs room after stopping by Eddie. Wayne can see why Eddie liked Dustin. Heâs loud and dramatic just like Eddie. Likes the same game, same books, even starting to like the same music. But Dustin and the Harrington boy. He doesnât get it.Â
Until heâs walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee and hears it. The bickering that leads into laughter. Snippy comments about something filled with inside jokes. Suddenly it all makes sense. They almost seem like brothers.Â
Itâs a few more days until Wayne meets the Harrington boy himself. A nurse coming to check Eddieâs vitals leaves the door open on accident. Harrington peaks through when heâs on a walk down the hallway.Â
âWhy is he handcuffed?â is the first thing Wayne hears from the kid. Voice filled with anger.Â
Before Wayne can get annoyed at explaining the whole situation to another stranger, explain how he knows his boy is innocent, the nurse is yelling at him.Â
âYou canât be in here, sir.â
âI donât give a shit. Why is he handcuffed? He didnât do anything wrong.â
Wayne is surprised that heâs not the one making the case this time. Somehow, this kid heâs never met believes his nephew is innocent. Just like he does.Â
The nurse snaps her folder shut, walking up to Steve and waving for help through the door. âThat is private information. Go back to your room before youâre forced to.â
Steve rolls his eyes with a snarl, undoing the buttons on the front of his hospital shirt. âHe didnât give me these. He didnât kill those kids. I know, I was there.â He begins to pull back the bandages, revealing scarred, mauled skin that looks just like Eddies. The nurse scolds him to stop. âHeâs innocent, so why is he handcuffed to the bed?â
âHe is still a suspect and deemed dangerous. Now get back to your room.â
More another nurse grabs Steveâs arm to try and pull him to his room. He shakes it off.Â
âDangerous,â his voice raises. âHeâs been in a coma for days and you think heâs dangerous. What is he going to do, pop up out of bed like he hasnât been fucking asleep for days and almost died just to run away? He couldnât do that if he tried.â
Security gets involved now, physically pushing Steve out of the doorway. The nurse shuts the door to Eddieâs room, cutting Wayne off from seeing it. She apoligized for the intrusion and gets back to checking on Eddie.Â
âHeâs right, you know,â Wayne says, still hearing the noise from the hall. âMy boy didnât do nothinâ wrong. Canât escape even if he tried. Or attack anyone for that matter. Heâs been through enough, he doesnât need to wake up to a cuff around his wrist.â
The nurse purses her lips, strained. âThis is from above me, sir. But if the news is true, the cuffs are staying on.â
When the nurse opens the door again, the hall is clear.Â
The next time Wayne sees Harrington is when he leaves for the day. Only able to fall asleep so many times in a shitty hospital chair before needing to go home. Security presses for him to stay in his room, warning him.Â
âJust going to make a fucking phone call. Iâm allowed to do that right?â When the security guard crosses his arms, the kid hits him with, âDonât want me to get my dad involved, do you? Isnât he one of the main donors for this hospital? Be such a shame if he stopped.â
Wayne almost laughs when the security guard moves out of the way. Harrington giving him the finger with a smirk as he walks down the hall to the payphone.Â
Maybe Eddie and the Harrington kid had more in common than Wayne thought.Â
now with a part 2
1K notes
·
View notes
might need to write a part two to this one, cause this is genius
(also totally where I thought it would go except for the penguin thing)
The One with the Cold
Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.
âRobs, Iâm dying.â
âYou just have a cold, calm down.â
âThen why am I dying.â He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.
She crosses her arms. âI donât know what you want from me. Youâre the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.â
He lets out a long sigh. âI know.â
âLike seriously, Iâm surprised you donât get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.â
âI have a strong immune system.â
Robin glares at him.
âNormally. I normally have a strong immune system.â
Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. Heâs slightly warm. âOn a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?â
âJust regular dying.â
She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.
âJust a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?â
âTea would be nice,â Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.
Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasnât sick, sheâd let him hear it. Itâs a bad habit of his. She lets him know that sheâs running across the hall to see if they have any.
Nancyâs door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.
âYours too?â Robin groans.
Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. âWell, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?â
âWhat do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, weâre out.â
Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. âWe should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.â
âWow, they were really made for each other,â Robin jokes. âIf only they would do something about it.â
Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. âMaybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddieâs claiming heâs dead.â
Robin huffs. âThatâs worse than Steve. Heâs just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we donât have any.â
âProbably.â Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. âHere. I just hope I donât get sick because of this. I canât miss work this week.â
âI mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. Youâll be fine.â
Nancy knocks three times on the table. âJust in case.â
Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. âGuess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But heâs either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. Heâs claiming heâs dead. Nancyâs busy cleaning so she doesnât get sick either.â
Sheâs cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He wonât be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.
Itâs a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he canât breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.
âThank you,â he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.
âI just made that, dingus, itâs going to be hot.â
He shoots her a half-baked glare. âCanât you save the insults for when I donât feel like shit.â
Robin smiles. âNope.â
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
152 notes
·
View notes
I Don't Know Which Way's Home
Chapter 15: Visitors
ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
cw: minor descriptions of violence/physicall assault
Present Day, March 1987
âWhen are you going to move in,â Sarah asks over the phone.
âNext week, I think. I should get the keys in a few days and then weâll take some time to get some basic furniture. Then we should be all good.â
Steve was excited for the move. Excited to get out of this house to something he owns. Something he can make his own. A place where he can walk through the door and see himself on the walls. In the furniture. Where it feels like home.
Not just a large house where most of the lights are never on. Suffocating anyone who lives in it.
Itâll be an adjustment. But heâs willing to do it. Ready to do it. Heâs been stuck in the same loop for so long, he ready to break it.
âAny word from your parents?â
Steve still feels bad about that. If things went the way he wanted them to, Julie would never have to endure his parents. Over the phone or in person. Knowing her, sheâd probably want to sit behind him in court. Sheâd see them there. But wouldnât be dealing with him. Thatâs his job, not hers. Not anyoneâs.
Heâs been dealing with his parents for his entire life. Heâs used to it. Knows how to shut up and say the right things just so the issue is dropped. Most of the time. Sometimes he fights back. Stands up for himself. Just to get knocked back down to the lowest peg possible. But he tries.
Now, itâs a totally different ballgame. They canât knock him down again, not really. Heâs stronger than he was back then. Older. More mature. Has a sense of his own self worth and how it doesnât revolve around their opinions. They never cared enough to stay, why should he care about their words.
âUh yeah. They got the papers, last I heard from the courthouse is that they got the response letter. It wasnât pretty.â
âWell, that was to be expected. Anything else?â
Steve hesitates. âYeah, um. I sort of got kicked out.â
âWhat?â
âYeah, my dad said he wanted me gone. That if I thought I was going to get anything from them anymore I was wrong and canât keep living here rent free. But they havenât, like, sent a cop or anything to make sure Iâm gone. So, itâs fine. Iâm handling it.â
âThatâs only because you have an in with the Chief, Steve,â Sarah says sternly. He can picture the frustration on her face. âWhen did they tell you this?â
âTwo weeks ago.â
Sarah swears under her breath. âYouâre cutting it close here, Steve.â
âI know,â he says before she can continue. âI know I am. But weâre so close to getting out. Most of our stuff is out of the house except for essentials, and I have people on standby incase they come home. Iâm not going into this blind. I know how they are.â
âThe minute they show up, the minute that this backup plan gets put into place, you call me immediately.â
Steve knows that Sarahâs just planning for the worst possible outcome. That itâs better to plan for things that might never happen than to scramble for a solution. He doesnât want to think of the worst. Deep down, thereâs a strong feeling that itâs actually going to happen.
Because he does know them. He knows how they will want to fight. They donât want to do it at all. Threats have gotten them out of trouble before, it shouldnât be any different now. Only Steve wasnât giving up. Giving in. He separated himself from them enough that their words donât mean shit anymore.
At least thatâs how heâll act. In court, heâll tell the judge the truth, not caring what their going to say as a rebuttal. The way theyâll tear him down as much as they can. It wonât affect him then, but Steve has no way of knowing how it will affect him behind closed doors.
Despite everything, someone deep inside him craves for their approval. Their attention. That person has been getting satisfaction knowing that heâs getting it somehow. The same person that threw large parties just to get the cops called. Just to see if they would show up again. Give him a phone call. Steve wants to ignore that part of him, but itâs there.
That same part of him will probably cry when this is all over. Knowing that his parents are done with him forever. That they think the worst of him. Their opinion shouldnât matter. It still does sometimes.
âI promise I will,â Steve assures.
âGood.â Sarah hangs up without another word.
Steveâs relationship with his parents has always been complicated. He knew that. Everyone knew that. There was a small hope that if he just acted right, did all the right things, the relationship would become less complicated. Less strained. Heâd be their son the way other sons were. Not just a trophy to sit on a shelf, but something more. It never became that, no matter how hard he tried.
So he stopped trying, and look where he is now.
. . .
Julie was putting her plate in the sink when a car pulled into the driveway. Steveâs head turned to the door, wondering who it is. He never does that. People come and go here all the time, normally Eddie since he has a car. Robin if she gets him to pick her up on the way.
But Steve never turns his head when itâs them. Like he has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to random people showing up at his door. Always knowing who it is before he sees them. This is different.
Still, Julie doesnât pay much thought on it. Itâs probably just one of them. Or maybe one of the kids had their parents drive them over. Itâs nothing.
Until they hear the garage door start to open. No one ever uses the garage.
Steveâs body tightens. Standing straighter that he normally does. Â He abandons his dish in the sink, walking toward the door leading to the garage. On attention. Waiting for something to pounce.
Sheâs never seen him like this before.
When he returns to the kitchen, thereâs a frightened look in his eye. One that immediately makers her heart start to pound faster. It canât be that bad. What can scare him into looking like this? Spine tied up with a string. Stance ready to start running. Afraid. Heâs so afraid.
His mouth opens to say something as a car door slams. A rage filled voice traveling across the house. Enough that she can place whoâs it is, even after only hearing it once. Steveâs fear matches in her eyes.
âSteve, whoâs here?â Her voice waivers.
Without saying a word, Steve gently grabs her arm and brings her to the sliding door. âYou canât be here right now. They canât know youâre here.â
âSteve,â she asks again.
He slides the door open, the evening air making her shiver. âThe Byers house isnât that far through the woods. You remember going there for Christmas Eve, right? Go straight about thirty feet, then make a right and keep walking.â
âSteve.â
The door starts to open, and the voices fill the other room. Steveâs eyes dart towards the sound before landing back on her. Only making her more scared.
âIâll be there within an hour with the rest of our stuff. But it will be worse if they see youâre here. I donât want them to hurt you.â
âSteve,â she pleads for him to slow down.
âYou got it. Go to the loose fence behind the pool house and then walk straight a little bit. Then make a right and keep going. Youâll see their house after a while. Take this.â He reaches for the walkie on the kitchen table. Messing with the dial. âWhen you get to the woods, call for a code red. It wonât go to everyone, just to them. Iâll be there when I can.â
Before Julie can say anything else, Steve pushes her out the door and shuts it behind her. Sliding the lock into place.
Heavy breaths fill her lungs, burning slightly with the chilled air. She looks at Steve though the glass. Face frantically asking for an explanation. Trying to convince her the one she has is wrong. They canât be here right now.
âGo, please,â Steve mouths through the glass. Terrified.
Julie turns. Walking to the pool house. Finding the loose panels of the fence and pulls them to the side. The same way she would do when she would sneak into this backyard. When she lived in that other house and would do anything not to be there.
Steveâs instructions replay in her mind. Walk straight for a bit, about thirty feet. Maybe more. The turn right and keep walking until you see the house. Call for a code red. Julie looks at the walkie in her hand before she presses the button. Seeing how her hand in shaking.
âCopy,â a manâs voice comes through the speaker. Julie unable to place it right now. âIâll wait outside for you. If you donât see the porch light, look for the flashlight. Call again if you get lost.â
Julie turns to the house again. The light click on in Steveâs room. He shouldnât be much longer. Thereâs not much else to grab. He should be right after her.
She thinks about waiting. But she already called. Theyâll get worried if she doesnât show up.
Her mind canât stop racing as she walks. Sun setting slowly as it becomes harder to see the ground. Squinting to make sure she doesnât trip on a root or branch.
Did Steveâs parents really show up? Just unannounced. That part wasnât as surprising when she thought about it. They seemed like the people to do that. Steve mentioned that they might come home. She didnât believe it then. She barely believed it now.
He was right. They showed up at the worst possible time. Give it another week and they would have been out of there anyway. But no, they just had to show up today.
The rage of Steveâs fatherâs voice rings in her head. The threats on the phone call finding their way back to her mind. What would they do when they saw he was still there? He wanted the two of them gone, that didnât happen. Not yet. It was happening, but something told Julie that wouldnât matter. In their heads, Steve disobeyed them. Again.
. . .
Steve watches Julie round the pool house before he turns away. Knowing that sheâs going to a safe place, that no matter what the Byersâ will take care of her. His safety, heâs not so sure about. Anger fills his dad fast, and itâs already bubbling over with the sight of the Beemer still sitting in the driveway. Or the fact that thereâs lights on in the house.
Heâs about to see his parents for the first time in two years. And heâs terrified.
Everything slows down like one of the horror movie scenes. Where the footsteps thump down the hall while the protagonist just stands and waits like an idiot. Waiting for it to strike. They donât seem like such idiots anymore. Steve knows how feet can feel glued to the floor, but it has a whole new meaning now.
His back is straight, chest puffed out in a way that makes him look bigger than he is. Anything to make him more menacing than his fatherâs glare. Or fist. Or whatever is coming his way as his father finds his way to the kitchen.
For the first time in two years, Steve looks at his fatherâs face. Disgusted how much it looks like his. A constant reminder of where he comes from, no matter how hard he tries. Rage filled eyes meet Steveâs, waiting for him to make the first move. All he does is cross his arms, clench his jaw. Trap his father in a glare. Heâs not speaking until he has to.
âSteven,â his mother breaks the silence. âWe were not expecting you.â
She always tried to keep the peace between them. To try and keep in his fatherâs rage. It rarely worked. But she tried. It was the one thing Steve commended her for. Deep down, he felt bad for her. Trapped in an unhappy marriage having to follow after Richard just to make sure he didnât cheat. But that still meant leaving him, and she didnât call enough for him to forgive for that.
âNo, we were not,â Richard finally speaks, voice tense. âWhat are you still doing here?â Considering you are no longer welcome in this house, that is.
His father canât even speak his name. Steve debates walking past right up to his room. Filling the last tote bag before doing the same with the rest of Julieâs stuff. Walking out without an explanation. His father raises his eyebrow with a tilt to his head. Awaiting an explanation.
Instead, Steve decides to gloat. âIâm actually just waiting for the keys to my house. Didnât want the neighbors to think you left your son to sleep in his car. That wouldnât be so nice to the reputation, wouldnât it, dad.â He continues to glare at his father, not backing down.
His father lets out a condescending laugh. âIf you were so concerned about reputation, then we wouldnât have to go to court. Would we, Steven? Instead, you think that you deserve some kind of justice. After all weâve done for you.â
Itâs Steveâs turn to laugh. âWhat did you do for me exactly?â
âPut a roof over your head, make sure there was money to put food on the table. Give you a car, clothes, expensive gifts. See you through high school, pay for your sports equipment. Everything you have is because we gave it to you.â Richardâs voice raises, almost yelling. Almost.
Steve resists a flinch when the last word booms through the room. Instead of saying another word, he side-steps his parents, heading upstairs. Flicking on the light in his room, stuffing as much of his stuff into a tote bag. His room already looks bare except for the sheet and the stupid car poster on his wall.
His mother appears in his doorway moments later, a more silent argument ready to be said. Until she sees the walls. âYou painted?â she gasped.
âI did. Hope you donât mind. I wonât be here much longer anyway. You can turn it back into what it was.â
A sickened smile forms on his motherâs face. âYou never told me you wanted to change your room. We could have done it together.â
Meaning that she could have changed it while he watched. Hating how it would have turned out no matter what the product was. His mother never listened to him anyway.
âWell, you were never here long enough to change it, so I just did it myself.â He smiles to himself when his motherâs smile twitches. Knowing that his words stung.
The tote bag gets slung over his shoulder as he pushes past her. Leaving her to look at her ruined masterpiece as he packs up Julieâs room. Pulling out the tote bag she has underneath her bed and putting away the few essentials that she had left. Taking out another to shove her clothes into.
His mother gasps as she sees the paint over these walls as well. This room in particular being her favorite guest room. âWhat have you done?â
âPainted. Like I said.â He continues to fill the second tote bag.
Richard finds his way up the stairs, done waiting for Steve. Eyes landing on the desk where the picture of Julie and her mother rests. Steve grabs it before he can, gently placing it in the tote bag. Throwing some clothes around it so it doesnât break.
âHas someone been living in here?â his father asks, not willing to admit he recognized the woman in the picture.
Steve takes a deep breath. âOh no one special. Just your daughter.â
His parents stiffen at the same time. Bringing a sly smile to Steveâs face.
âI donât have a daughter,â his mother says with feigned confidence. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âI wasnât talking to you. I was talking to him.â He meets his fatherâs eyes again. âI was talking about Julie.â
As fast the smile formed of Steveâs face, itâs smacked off. Cheek stinging with the contact of his fatherâs hand. His mother gasps, scolding her husband. Knowing nothing would stop him from doing it again. Steve grabs the desk chair, using it to balance him as he gets his bearings. Waits for the ringing in his ear to calm down, for the breath to return to his lungs.
âYou are never to speak that name again,â Richard commands. âShe is nothing.â
âJulie is not nothing.â Steve manages to stand, only to have to grip the chair again when Richardâs fist makes contact again. Lip darting out to taste the blood coming from his split lip. A short laugh escapes as he stands, planting his feet stronger this time. âYou really thought Iâd never figure out about her.â
âYou think you are so tough, donât you, Steven. Changing your room, getting a job, housing someone you donât know. All of that you could do because of me. All of that you are going to lose. What will come of you when you donât have us paying for everything anymore? When you canât come crawling back to us when life gets hard.â
Steve manages to stand again. Plants his feet the way heâs learned to. Treating his father like every other monster heâs faced. Wishing that there was a bat in his hand to twirl around. Make a show of protecting himself.
He doesnât need it this time. Richard might pretend to be strong and menacing, but heâs just a person. Who got a few good hits in because Steve wasnât prepared for them. He is now.
âYou would know something about housing someone you donât know. Youâve been housing me for twenty years.â
Richardâs arm raises again, but Steve was ready for it this time. Catching his wrist before it can contact Steveâs face. It surprises the both of them, but Steve doesnât let his guard down. His eyes dart to his mother, who hides just barely behind Richard. Laura was never one for confrontation, and now heâs something more than just her son. Now heâs a threat.
âI am more than what you think I am. I changed my room because I never liked the old one. Because I should feel welcome in my childhood home. I got the job because if my hard work, not because of my name. I gave Julie a home because she is my sister, that is a fact. And because her and I have something in common. Our father knows nothing about us.â
âLet go of me, Steven.â For the first time, Richard is the one with fear in his eyes.
âAre you going to hit me again?â Steve tightens his grip.
Richard shakes his head. âNo, no Iâm not. Donât do anything rash here, Steven.â
Steve lets go of Richardâs wrist with a swing, letting it slam back into him. âI go by Steve, but you both always ignored that anyway. Iâm not some kid you get to push around anymore, no matter how hard youâll try. You might think Iâm stupid for staying here after you told me to get out, you might think what Iâm doing is pointless. But Iâm not doing all of this for me anymore, Iâm doing it for me and for Julie. Because while you thought she was just something you could pay to never think about again, you missed out on a pretty great kid.â
He takes a deep breath. âBut I guess youâre used to that. You missed out on the kid you kept around. Even if you werenât here to see me grow up. I hope it all was worth it. It was a lot of hell for me.â
Steve grabs the tote bags, slinging one over each shoulder and the other in his hand. Taking a moment to realize that this is the last time heâll ever set foot in this house. Itâll no longer be his home. It should be sadder than it is. There were many good memories among the bad that happened here. But he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. Itâs not over yet, but heâs free of one of his chains.
âYou going to let me leave? Not like you want me here anyway.â
Neither of them moves. Not ready to admit they lost.
âWhere are you going to go?â Laura asks like she cares. She might, but it was too little too late at this point.
âYou donât get to know that.â
Laura lowers her head in a nod, accepting. Steve pushes his way past them and down the stairs. Finding his keys.
Richard follows him down, not willing to give up. âDonât think you can have the car, we paid for that. Itâs ours.â
Steve laughs, undoing a keychain Robin made him from the ring. âI know, was just getting this off.â He tosses Richard the keys. âThere you go. House key is on there too, so you wonât have to bother about me coming back.â
He grabs his flashlight from the hall closet before opening the door. Sparing one last look at his parents, to find anything that shows remorse. All he sees is Richardâs hard stare and Lauraâs sorry eyes. Nothing calling him to stay.
So he leaves.
. . .
Julie was lucky she didnât get lost. She followed the directions and, after a while, saw the porch light. The last bit of sunlight helps her get the rest of the way there. Illuminating the path just slightly so she doesnât trip.
âHey,â a voice says from beside her, making her jump. âSorry, didnât mean to scare you.â
Julie turns to see the Chief holding a flashlight, the light pointing towards her. âI think you would have even if I knew you were there.â
âCome on, letâs get you inside. Itâs getting cold out here.â Hopper steps in front of her, leading her the rest of the way.
Joyce is waiting for them in the house. Getting up from the couch when they open the door. âYouâve been out there for a while. I was getting worried. Oh honey, youâre shaking, are you cold?â
Julie looks down at her hands, seeing them shake. She doesnât feel cold. More in shock than anything. Afraid of something sheâs never really experienced. Only hearing his voice once over the phone. That was enough to spark fear. Not for her, but for Steve.
It was all she could think about when she was walking. What Steve was going to face when his parents saw that he wasnât there. If they saw what they did to their rooms. If they saw her.
She agreed it was probably best that she wasnât there. It would have probably made it all ten times worse. But leaving Steve alone in that house, with them. It felt like a bad idea.
He can take care of himself, she knew that. That didnât stop her from feeling like she should be there. Be a barrier to stop them from hurting him. In whatever way they were going to. Maybe if there was a witness, he could leave without a fight.
âJulie, sweetie, are you ok?â Joyceâs warm voice breaks through her thoughts.
Julie tries to say something, but nothing comes out. It hits her all at once how scared she was for him.
âWhat time is it?â she asks.
Joyce checks the clock in the living room. âJust about seven thirty, why?â
Julie left a little after seven. So, assuming Steve left right after her, he should be here soon. And if he left a bit later, he should be here by eight. Thatâs if nothing went wrong. If they didnât get into an argument. Or he didnât get lost.
âHe said heâd get here within the hour. So by eight. If nothing happened. Do you think something will happen?â Her voice canât help but shake.
Joyce makes a face that is supposed to help but doesnât. Full of sympathy, but one of no answers. âIâm not sure. But whatever it is, heâll be fine. I know he will.â
âAnd if he isnât?â Julie keeps seeing the small person that Steve becomes when he talks to his father. How the light drains out of him, and he becomes a shell of the person he is. His father isnât even in person and can do that. What will happen when he is in person?
âHe will be,â Joyce assures. âHow about you come in, sit down. Can I get you anything? Water, hot chocolate?â
Julie lets herself be led to the living room. âWater would be nice.â
âAlright. El here if you want to see her, have someone to sit with.â
âYeah, yes. I would like that.â
Joyce smiles at her. âOk, Iâll go get her for you. Jim.â She nods her head toward the kitchen before heading down the hall.
Hopper brings her a glass of water, which she takes. Taking a sip before setting it on the table, seeing how her hands still shake. Joyce comes back down the hall motioning for Hopper to join her in the kitchen. Leaving Julie alone in the living room. Until El comes to sit next to her.
âJoyce told me about what happened,â she says softly. âDo you want to talk about it?â
âHe used to hit my mom,â Julie blurts out. âHe used to hit my mom when they were together, and she made him angry. Steve made him angry. I know he did. He called the house last week and, and kicked us out. And we didnât leave yet, because we couldnât. Steve doesnât get the keys for a few more days. What if he hits Steve, too?â
Elâs hands find hers, holding them together to calm the shaking. Julie turns her head to meet Elâs eyes. Seeing an expression that feigns strength but fear still rests in her eyes. Sheâs scared for Steve too.
âI have known Steve for longer that you have. I know how strong he is, how brave he is. He will be ok. I promise.â Thereâs a certainty in her words.
Somehow, Julie believes her. âOk. Ok, yeah. Yeah. Heâll be ok.â
âWould you like a hug?â
Julie nods. Her breath starting to even out again, the adrenaline keeping her tears at bay failing.
El opens her arms and leans forward to give Julie a hug. Julie takes it with a choked sob, tears starting to fall. El pats her back awkwardly, not quite sure what to do but itâs helping. With a few deep breaths, Julieâs able to pull herself together. Pulling away from El to wipe the tears from her eyes. She wonât be ok until Steve shows up, but sheâs better. For now.
âThanks, that helped.â
El smiles. âGood. Do you want to watch something while we wait? Keep your mind off of it?â
âYeah, sure.â
El clicks on the tv, finding a channel with some reruns that Julie doesnât pay attention to. Her mind is still on Steve. Knowing that the thereâs no sunlight left to guide the way, and he has no walkie to let her know when sheâs coming. Yet she still grips the one resting in her lap. Hoping by some miracle she hears Steveâs voice through the staticky connection and knows heâs ok.
But nothing comes through. The only noise filling the house is the tv, and the not so silent whispering between Joyce and the Chief in the kitchen. After a while, Hopper heads back outside with the flashlight, walkie stuffed in his jacket pocket. Heâs going to look for Steve.
It feels like forever before thereâs a knock at the door. Making Julie sit up straighter. Joyce emerges from the kitchen to open it. A very winded Steve behind the door, tote bags slung over his shoulder and flashlight in hand.
âSorry Iâm late,â he apologizes while catching his breath. âI had to go the long way.â
Joyce ushers him in. Steve barely gets a chance to put the bags down before Julieâs on her feet and pulling him into a hug.
âYouâre ok.â
âYeah, Iâm ok. Did you get here ok, I know I kind of freaked you out.â
Julie lets go. âFreaked me out. Steve, you terrified the shit out of me. After the phone call last week and the little I knew about him I,â she pauses when she sees his split lip. âHe hit you?â
Steve touches his lip. âYeah, he, uh, he did. But Iâm ok. Iâve had far worse than this.â
âYou say that like it makes it ok. It doesnât.â
He looks down with a shake of his head. âI know it doesnât.â
âHe really hit you because you didnât leave.â Julie canât seem to wrap her head around the idea. But then, she would never hit someone for any reason. Let alone that.
Steve clears his throat. âSort of. Why donât you go sit with El for a bit, I have to talk to Joyce for a second.â
She gives him a confused look, knowing he didnât answer her question fully. But she still goes to sit on the couch again. Him and Joyce go to the kitchen, speaking in whispers. Something tells her that reason he was attacked was because of her.
. . .
Joyce uses her walkie to let Hopper know that Steve is at the house. She gets him a glass of water and makes him sit down, looking at his lip.
âItâs really not that bad. You and I both know this is the least beat up Iâve ever been after a fight.â
She sits down in the chair across from him. âYou should listen to Julie. That still doesnât make it ok.â
He looks down at his hands. âI know. Just easier to think of it that way. Out of all the things heâs done, heâs never hit me before.â
Hopper comes into the kitchen, sitting down next to Joyce. âYou ok, kid?â
Steve shakes his head. âI will be, just need a second. Thanks for making sure she got here. Making sure she was safe. I didnât know what would happen if he saw her there. Just knowing that she was there at all was the reason why,â he canât finish the sentence.
âOf course. You both can stay here as long as you need to,â Joyce offers.
âThanks, I appreciate it.â
Hopper crosses his arms. âYou could press charges if you wanted, make your case a little stronger.â
âItâs my word against his, and my mom will never speak out against him.â She never did before, why would it change now. âCan I use your phone, I need to make some calls.â
Joyce nods and Steve heads to the phone in the hall. Pulling out Sarahâs number from his pocket. Dialing it with a deep breath. She wouldnât be happy with this.
She wasnât. Cursing Steve through the phone with an âI told you soâ. But grateful that Julie is safe, grateful that he is too. She gives him a day before sheâll say anything. Give him time to make it look like Julie was just at an extended sleepover. For them to move. He thanks her just before she hangs up.
Robin is next. Takes a second to make sure heâs ok before cursing out his dad. Offering to go over there herself and give him a piece of her mind. He tells her itâs a bad idea, she disagrees, but still says she will keep it all for when she sees him in court. That way there will be witnesses. She makes sure heâs ok, offers to come over. Steve assures that heâs fine and will talk to her again in the morning.
The last person is Eddie. Steve already knows how heâll react, but still hopes he wonât freak out that much.
âWhere are you right now?â he asks after Steve fills him in.
âThe Byers. It was the closest place that was safe.â
âIâll be there soon.â
Steve holds the phone closer to his mouth. âEds, really. You donât have to come over.â
âLike hell I donât.â Eddie hangs up before Steve can protest anymore.
Heâd be lying if he said that he didnât want to see Eddie right now. That if knowing that his boyfriend was willing to drop everything just to be there with him right now didnât bring him comfort. Part of him didnât want Eddie to see him like this, though. Fragile, partially homeless. Taken a few hits to the face.
As if Eddie hasnât seen Steve beat up before. Pretty much all of Hawkins has, itâs a reoccurring event. But those times were different. It was because of his own idiocy or protecting someone. This was at the hands of someone that already caused him more pain than he should have gone through. He didnât know how to admit that he got hit for no reason.
He heads back to the kitchen, tells them that Eddieâs coming over. They donât say much, but have a knowing look in their eye. One that scares the hell out of him, but makes him feel seen at the same time. Steve could be himself in this house. Around these people. It wasnât even his, and it felt more like home than heâs ever known.
âI never asked if you were ok,â Steve says as he sits down next to Julie. âAre you?â
Julie shrugs. âAs ok as I can be I guess.â
âSounds about right.â
âDid he hit you because of me?â Julie asks after a pause.
Steve would do anything to lie to her right now. To dart around the question and make up some excuse. Knowing her, she would see right through it. She didnât need him lying to add to tonight. But would it be better for her to know the truth?
Thereâs a knock at the door before Steve can try to answer. He thinks itâs for the best. Enough has happened for one night.
He stands when Joyce opens the door. Almost getting pushed out of the way when Eddie sees Steve in the living room. They meet in a hug, Steve feeling more relieved that he thought he would.
âThose jackasses couldnât have waited a few more days before they finally came home. They had to do it while you were still there.â
Steve huffs out a laugh. âYeah well, they never had the best timing.â
Eddie notices the cut on his lip when he pulls back from the hug. Eyes filling with anger. âIâm actually going to get arrested for murder this time.â
âEds, itâs really not that bad.â
âNot that bad.â Eddieâs voice raises. âNot that bad, Steve. You have a fucking split lip. Your eye is puffy.â
Steve tries to calm Eddie down, still conscious of the people around them. Trying not to make it look too revealing. âIt could be worse.â
He sees Joyce say something to the girls that gets them to leave and head down the hall. Leaving him and Eddie alone in the living room.
âHow hard did he hit you? Can you hear me alright? What about your vision, nothingâs blurry. You can still see fine?â Eddie clocks when they leave, grabbing Steveâs head with both his hands, assessing the damage.
Steve tries to pull Eddieâs hands away, make this less of a big deal. âI can hear and see fine. He didnât hit me hard enough to do anything. Iâve had worse, itâs the least concerning thing thatâs happened in the last few hours.â
âYour father, a grown man, assaulted you. His son. And you think there are more concerning things that happened in the last few hours.â Eddieâs face falls. âJust because youâre an adult when he hit you doesnât make it better.â
âI know that,â he admits. Starting to feel the weight of everything finally sink in. âI just donât know how to process it all right now. Tonightâs been a lot and I just need a minute, a day, I donât know. Something. I just canât think about that right now.â
âOk,â Eddie says softly. âOk. Then we wonât talk about it anymore. When every youâre ready. Does it hurt though, do you need ice or anything? Last thing, I promise.â
Steve shakes his head. âNo, no. Itâs ok. Iâm ok right now.â
Eddie nods. Kissing Steve before pulling him into another hug.
Just when Steve gets his life together, it all falls apart again. Or at least feels like it. In just a few days, the pieces will be put back into place. His life will get back on schedule. His schedule. Where he can move into a house that he bought, with his own money. To a job that he got, by himself. And life that has nothing to do with his last name.
Even if the court date is a few months away, and heâll have to see his parents again. But after that, heâll never have to interact with them again. He will be permanently free.
Right now. Heâs trying to hold it all together. Making his brain slow down to give himself a minute to breath. Before the crushing reality of all that just happened presses down on his chest. And theyâll take hold of his mind again. Just for a little while, then heâll break free again.
Joyce insists they stay the night. Explaining how Julie is already set up in Elâs room, and how the two of them can take the pull-out couch. Just like that, with no explanation needed. Or excuses. Maybe Steve could tell everyone about them soon.
Itâs still early when everyone goes to bed. Just wanting the day to be over, even if theyâre not tired. But the comfort of darkness lets Eddie scoot closer, hold Steve a little tighter. Make him feel put together even though heâs slowly starting to fall apart.
Tomorrow is a new day. With plenty of problems to be solved and conversations to be had. Telling the rest of the group to stay clear of his old house and change his contact information with a few people. Try to get the keys a few days earlier.
Tonight is meant for sleep. To float around and exist without anything pressing his mind. Wrapped up in his boyfriendâs arms and feel comfort for a brief moment. Until his looks in the mirror again and see the healing cut on his lip, and the slight bruise on his cheek. Almost fall apart all over again until he pulls himself back together. Each time a little weaker than the last until he finally breaks.
Itâs so easy to fall back into old habits. To bottle everything up for the sake of other. For the sake of himself. Steve really canât process everything right now. It would sting more that it already does. So, it gets pushed away. Until heâs ready to face it again.
He only hopes that time will be sooner than most. So he doesnât blow up at someone thatâs undeserving. Saying something he canât take back.
But right now, he doesnât need to think about that. Right now he needs to sleep.
Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi
20 notes
·
View notes
I need artists to stop writing songs that remind me of the fictional characters that live rent free in my head please and thank you. (please never stop i love it so much)
1 note
·
View note
The One with the Cold
Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.
âRobs, Iâm dying.â
âYou just have a cold, calm down.â
âThen why am I dying.â He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.
She crosses her arms. âI donât know what you want from me. Youâre the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.â
He lets out a long sigh. âI know.â
âLike seriously, Iâm surprised you donât get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.â
âI have a strong immune system.â
Robin glares at him.
âNormally. I normally have a strong immune system.â
Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. Heâs slightly warm. âOn a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?â
âJust regular dying.â
She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.
âJust a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?â
âTea would be nice,â Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.
Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasnât sick, sheâd let him hear it. Itâs a bad habit of his. She lets him know that sheâs running across the hall to see if they have any.
Nancyâs door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.
âYours too?â Robin groans.
Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. âWell, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?â
âWhat do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, weâre out.â
Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. âWe should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.â
âWow, they were really made for each other,â Robin jokes. âIf only they would do something about it.â
Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. âMaybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddieâs claiming heâs dead.â
Robin huffs. âThatâs worse than Steve. Heâs just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we donât have any.â
âProbably.â Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. âHere. I just hope I donât get sick because of this. I canât miss work this week.â
âI mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. Youâll be fine.â
Nancy knocks three times on the table. âJust in case.â
Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. âGuess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But heâs either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. Heâs claiming heâs dead. Nancyâs busy cleaning so she doesnât get sick either.â
Sheâs cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He wonât be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.
Itâs a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he canât breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.
âThank you,â he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.
âI just made that, dingus, itâs going to be hot.â
He shoots her a half-baked glare. âCanât you save the insults for when I donât feel like shit.â
Robin smiles. âNope.â
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
152 notes
·
View notes
WIP Thursday (cause I forgot to post this yesterday)
The bright lights of Heaven were comforting in an unknown way. Undistinguishable. Like the rays were injecting calm right into his veins. Golden gates stand before him, luring him in. Slowly, he walks forward like no weight is pressing down on his legs. He feels free.Â
âWhy hello there,â the man behind the podium greets with a wide smile. âMy name is Saint Peter, welcome to Heaven, can I have your name?â
âAnthony,â he says, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. Even though he knows in his heart that it is his name. It doesnât feel real.Â
Peter looks down at the podium, scanning his finger down a long list of names. Finally, he lands on the correct one, looking back at Anthony with a smile. âI see. The newly redeemed arrival. Tell me, how much do you remember about your life before you arrived here?â
The answer comes to Anthonyâs mind quickly, resembling a heading without the words underneath. A lack of substance to the reasoning. He knows why heâs here, and who he is. But everything else has been wiped away.
1 note
·
View note
Angel gets into Heaven and Husk doesn't. When the seraphims come to pick him up, he can't leave. Not when someone is still stuck here.
Husk smiles at Angel with tears in his eyes. Knowing that this might be the last time they ever see each other. Angel might be free, but Husk isn't. Even if he was, he'd still have a long way to go to redemption. Angel was always going to be the first to leave.
They knew that, but it didn't make this any better.
"Go," he says with a strong voice. "You've earned it."
Earning it means nothing when his biggest support has to stay here. "I can't. Not without you."
Husk tries to laugh like it's all a joke, but it just comes out sad. "If you don't, you might never get another chance."
"I don't care. We'll find a way to go together if we can. Heaven will be shit without you there with me."
"No, it won't. Heaven will be all that it's chalked up to be. And you won't be missing anything, cause you won't remember me."
"You say that like it makes it better." A lump forms in Angel's throat, threatening to make him sob. "I'd rather stay a million years in Hell than a day in Heaven if that means I can still be with you."
Husk takes Angel's hands, gripping them tight. "You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do. How can I leave when the one good thing that ever happened to me is standing right in front of me?"
For a second, Angel thinks that he might have gotten through. Broken Husk's strength to say no. Husk pulls Angel into a hug. holding him close like it's the last time. It can't be. It won't. Angel isn't leaving this.
"I love you, Angel," Husk whispers. "But I could never forgive myself if I'd let you miss the thing you've been working so hard for."
Before he realizes it, Husk pushes Angel away from him. Right into the portal. Angel tries to regain his balance, his third set of arms spawning to try and grab at something, anything.
"Husk, no," Angel yells as he falls through the portal. It closes after him.
Suddenly, Angel's mind goes blank.
61 notes
·
View notes
The One with the Child
Robin and Nancy walk into the café after a long day of work. Stopping when they see Jonathan sitting on the couch reading a book with a toddler sitting next to him, playing with a toy. They share a confused look before walking around the couch.
âHey Jon,â Nancy leads.
Jonathan looks up from his book. âOh, hey guys. How was work?â
âUh, fine,â Nancy says, still confused. âJust one, tiny, quick question.â
âWhose child is that?â Robin points at the toddler looking up at them with big eyes.
âOh, right, this is Argyleâs niece, Stella. Heâs in the bathroom, so Iâm watching her for a minute.â
Robin flops on the armchair. âOh, thank God. I thought that was just a random kid.â
Jonathan gives her a weird look. âDid you think I just stole a child? What gave you the impression that I would do that?â
Robin shrugs. âSomeone could have just left the child here. You donât know. That happens. You would be surprised how many times Steve has had to stay afterschool to sit with a kid whose parent forgot to come pick them up.â
âTo be fair, my mom did that a few times when I was a kid.â Nancy pulls one of the other chairs closer. âOnly a few times though.â
âMy mom did that too. Happens when youâre a single mom.â
Argyle comes back from the bathroom, hair braided down his back. âHey dudes. You meet Stella?â He sits down on the couch, Stella grabbing his arm and hiding behind it. âSheâs a bit shy.â
âRobin thought I stole her.â
Robin makes a high-pitched noise. âI did not. I thought you were picked by a lazy parent to be entrusted with their child. That is far different than stealing.â
âStill doesnât make it any better.â
Robin rolls her eyes, getting up to go order a coffee at the bar.
âWhich sister is Stellaâs mom?â Nancy asks, trying to change the conversation.
Argyle tries to get Stella to loosen her grip on his arm but fails. âJulia. She has a job interview in the city today so Iâm watching her.â
âAnd you brought her here?â Robin sits back down with her coffee.
âHey, this is a family friendly establishment until seven and by then she will be back with her mom. She should be done soon to come pick her up.â
Eddie walks into the café, waving as he orders a coffee at the bar. Doing a double take when he sits down, eyes wide.
âI know Iâve only known you guys for like a year but none of you had a secret kid, right?â
âNo, this is my sisterâs kid. Iâm watching her for a few hours.â
Eddie relaxes in his seat. âOh, thank God. I could not have dealt with that twice in one week.â
Nancy perks up. âTwice?â
âYeah, remember my buddy Jeff from high school. Apparently, him and his girl are expecting. Sent me into a whole crisis.â
âOh, thatâs why you were cleaning your room a few days ago.â
âIâm offended thatâs why you think I was cleaning, but youâre correct.â
âWhy were you having a crisis?â Robin asks over her coffee. âItâs not like weâre not at an age where people we know start having kids.â
Eddie makes a large gesture. âThatâs why I was having a crisis. It was the first one of my friends that is taking that next step in life. While Iâm still stuck between two jobs, not in a relationship, and a giant fucking mess. Sorry,â he apologizes to Argyle.
âSheâs two, she doesnât know what that word means,â Argyle assures.
Steve comes into the cafĂ© and sits on the chair next to Eddie. Covering his face in his hands. âIf I see another first grader, itâll be too soon.â
âBad day.â Robin gives him a sympathetic look.
Steve nods. âThree kids had to be sent to the nurse because they were sick. Three, like visibly sick. They shouldnât have even been sent in at all. And then the rest were just on edge and didnât want to settle down after recess. And.â He finally spots Stella on the couch. âOne of your sisterâs kids?â
Argyle nods. âYeah. Her mom should be here soon, so donât worry.â
âI said first graders for a reason. They are monsters. Whatâs her name?â
âStella. Do you want to say hi?â he asks her. Stella gives Steve a small wave.
Steve melts a little bit. âYou have just made my whole day, Stella.â
A woman who looks a little like Argyle walks into the cafĂ©. Argyle notices her and stands, picking up Stella from the couch. âHey, Jules. How was the interview?â
âPretty good. Thanks for watching her again, I appreciate it.â She takes Stella out of Argyleâs arms. âDid you have a good time with Uncle Argyle?â Stella nods into her motherâs shoulder. âHope she wasnât too much trouble.â
Argyle shakes his head. âNot at all. Right Jon?â
âYeah, not at all.â
Julia nods, finally realizing the rest of the group.
âOh right, Julie, these are my friends. Youâve met some of them. Dudes, this is my sister Julia.â
The group gives a mix of greetings before going back to separate conversations. Julia says hello back before Argyle walks her out of the café.
âIt was seriously no trouble watching her, it was nice to see her. And you.â
âI know. Wish I could stay more, but we got to get back.â
âIf you need a place to stay, you can chill at our place. Iâll take the couch so you can have a bed.â
Julia shakes her head. âThat sweet but I didnât pack an overnight bag. If we leave now, we might make it before the next rush hour. I wouldnât want to inconvenience you and Jon.â
âNonsense. You know youâre always welcome at our place.â
âWhen are you two finally going to cut the crap and get together already. The whole familyâs been waiting for it.â
Argyle groans. âTell me thereâs not a betting pool.â
âYou already know the answer to that.â
âJesus. Iâm not sure we even ever will. Heâs like the first best friend Iâve ever had, I donât want to lose him over some stupid feelings.â
Stella coos, grabbing at her momâs hair. âWe should go before she starts getting fussy. For what itâs worth, I donât think you will. You might not believe me, but thereâs more hope than you think there is. From an outsiderâs perspective.â
âSo, I can blame you when everything goes up in flames. Nice.â Julie gently slaps his arm. âCall me when you get back, alright.â
âI will. Wave goodbye to Uncle Argyle, Stella.â
âBye, bye,â Steve whispers with a small wave.
Argyle smiles. âBye, Stella. Nice seeing you both.â
They walk down the street to where Julia parked as Argyle returns to the café.
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
168 notes
·
View notes