who did this to you. part 2
🤍🌷 read part 1 here
pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie
This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window.
It’s not happening.
Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his.
Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light.
It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening.
“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone.
Who’s hurting you, Steve?
Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.
He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and—
“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.”
“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will.
He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again.
He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so…
So much like Eddie’s fucking problem.
He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe.
It’s just not tight.
“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it.
“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?”
He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm.
But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time.
He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—
“I don’t know what.”
It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again.
Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small.
“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.”
Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks.
Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about.
God, he never did like blood.
“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?”
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.”
“Her.”
Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right?
“What?”
“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”
Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own.
“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.”
That's... really fucking endearing, actually.
And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet.
Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?
He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out.
“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.
Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion.
“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?”
Oh no.
“Why’m I in y—“
“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?”
Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer.
Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too.
Past all of it.
Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house.
But he can’t. So he breathes.
At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people.
But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers.
“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?”
“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.”
And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now.
He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel.
He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view.
The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice.
It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe.
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?”
He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.
“Ed?”
“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.”
“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—
Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again.
“Ed. Are you in trouble?”
“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“
“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?”
He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.
“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.”
“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?”
Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”
“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.”
It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole.
He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side.
“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door.
It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this.
“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much.
He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on.
Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now.
Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?
“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask.
Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me?
Somehow, Eddie manages a smile.
Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.
“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen.
Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now.
Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away.
Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break.
“Blue, you with me?”
Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.
“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?”
“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest.
Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder.
“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady.
“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.”
“I know.” But maybe I will.
“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.”
Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.”
Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.”
Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is.
Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.
“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.”
It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home.
This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible.
And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie.
He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.
Why not? You need a doctor—
Monsters. Only monsters there.
It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back.
Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch.
He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear.
“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.”
Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.
Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up.
Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away.
It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not…
He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier.
These things don’t happen. They don’t!
“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.”
Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately.
In. Hold. Out. Hold.
He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void.
He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.
Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad.
Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore.
Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue.
He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.
Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve.
“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.”
“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right.
“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue.
“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds.
“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers.
”I want my mom.“
”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?”
Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away.
He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama.
”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.”
And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”
Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared.
And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted.
And now…
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?”
Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this.
“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…”
“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”
And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment.
He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that?
But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk.
“Thank you.”
Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie.
“For, uh. This.”
“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.”
Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.”
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness.
“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation.
He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out.
“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.
He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking.
Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small.
Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again.
Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words.
“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?”
“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“
It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again.
“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?”
Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is.
“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.
Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt.
“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest.
Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again.
“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.
More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment.
“Not gonna break, Eddie.”
“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.”
The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them.
“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”
It soothes the urge to scream.
Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth.
“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car.
Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips.
“Later, Ed.”
And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real.
But it did. And it is.
And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside.
He has a phone call to make.
🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42
(a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)
addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3
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Tokyo Debunker Stigmas, Artifacts, And Other Possibly Combat Relevant Information
Since we've met all of our current ghouls, I decided to share my non-comprehensive list of the stigmas and powers and weapons of the ghouls we've seen so far!! This isn't all of them because they haven't all been revealed or explained. But it should be everything we've seen so far! Let me know if/where I've missed things! I've also mentioned some other details for some of them, namely the less human ghouls.
Jin Kamurai
Stigma
Incantation - Bianerus
Effect - forces the target to obey his command.
Currently cannot be activated without the PC's enhancement. At present, only Tohma, the PC, and few if any others know this.
Incantation can be recited mentally
Continuous commands("kneel") only seem to last a few minutes at most
Artifact
Sword - teleportation
Can be used to cut a portal into the air for teleporting someone with him, but doesn't appear to need this for just teleporting Jin
Tohma Ishibashi
Stigma
Incantation - Argeas
Effect - "lets him send vibrations long distances"
Vibrations include the vibrations from his voice, allowing his voice to carry longer distances, making him heard further away
When enhanced he can break through anomalous soundproofing and better specify the direction his vibrations carry(as neither Kaito nor Luca heard his voice from outside the room)
Artifact
Halberd - ?
Other
Tohma naturally has "brute strength" which, combined with his stigma, allows him to essentially make earthquakes.
Lucas Errant
Stigma
Incantation - Iggnaim
Effect - creates a barrier.
When enhanced the barrier becomes visible. It's significantly larger and supported by a large anomaly that's invisible to everyone but the PC and perhaps Kaito, even unable to be seen on cameras or by Luca himself.
Artifact
Twin blades - ?
Appear identical aside from a difference in color.
Smashed through reenforced glass to choose him as their new master.
Apparently sound to Luca like a crying child. He believes the child must be begging for his help.
Other
Carries around a knife.
Kaito Fuji
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - "can see auras sometimes?"
So far hasn't been seen/used, and Hyde didn't sound certain about what it does.
Kaito has notably enhanced vision, able to see things that are further away and surprisingly skilled at reading lips.
Kaito screams when Luca's stigma is enhanced, looking straight up at the anomaly it spawned despite no one else but the PC appearing to see it. While it's possible he only saw its aura, it's likely he saw the anomaly itself.
Artifact
Rogue bow - ?
Veers nonsensically off path when shot, except, seemingly, if Kaito truly wishes to hit the target(?)
Alan Mido
Stigma
Incantation - Yagsal Olbalsa
Effect - super strength.
Artifact
Lead pipe - ?
Leo Kurosagi
Stigma
Incantation - Haxs
Effect - super hearing.
Increases distance and precision of his hearing. Does not allow him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.
When enhanced increases distance further and allows him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.
Artifact
Bubble gum - can be manipulated into any shape when blown.
The longer it's chewed, the longer he can manipulate it
Shohei Haizono
"So if I chewed this one a bunch and stuck it over your nose and mouth...
"...you'd suffocate. Bye bye Honor Roll."
suggests that it can't be removed until the time he's manipulated it runs out?
Stigma
Incantation - Spurno
Effect - forces change in direction.
When enhanced the change in direction is more forceful, like a knockback effect.
Artifact
Motorcycle - ?
Her name is Bonnie. She eats food placed in her fuel tank instead of gasoline, including chewing it and even burping. She's picky about what she eats. Her favorite food is barbecue sandwiches, but she also eats jerky.
Sho drives her just about everywhere.
Haru Sagara
Stigma
Incantation - Bahnti
Effect - reduces gravity's effects on his own body.
Reduced effect of gravity allows him to move extremely fast.
Makes his body much more fragile when used. Possibly includes weakening his immune system?
Artifact
Deck brush - ?
Towa Otonashi
Stigma
Incantation - ? (has an audio file, but the spelling hasn't been shown.)
Effect - Controls weather?
Towa exhibits control over weather as his primary ability, however because it's not shown to be in response to his incantation it's somewhat dubious as to whether or not it's actually his stigma.
Others' understanding of Towa's stigma is only that he controls lightning and that other weather patterns are random, not in response to Towa's feelings.
The weather reacts to Towa's emotions, causing the sky to darken in preparation of rain, lightning, or snowstorms when he's angry.
When Towa was away from Jabberwock for a day the nature conditions deteriorated significantly, with water drying up and the sky dark despite it being sunny the previous day. This may be coincidental, as Darkwick's weather is said to be unpredictable.
Towa is also able to predict weather that he doesn't control.
Towa can create lightning(which he uses to electrocute enemies), rain, wind(used to create a pillar of water for the PC to land on when falling off the boat and to direct the rain sideways to wash bubble soap off of Kaito), snow, and possibly earthquakes(the ground is noted to start shaking in response to his anger.)
His lightning may be able to be used under water without being conducted into non-targets, however it's also possible he used harsh winds instead of lightning when destroying Otohime and her minions.
Artifact
Bubble wand - blown bubbles cause explosions.
The explosions are powerful enough to destroy glass that withheld a full grown Kraken.
Towa warns not to touch the bubbles, as they will kill you.
Other
Towa cannot speak during the daytime and is only able to talk when it's night. This includes being in Obscuary, where it's permanently night, however the cover of clouds doesn't allow him to speak during the day meaning it's not related specifically to the visibility of the sun.
Can speak to and understand anomalies, even those that lack speech capabilities(such as the tree on the hill.) Haru is aware of this.
Able to see and hear ghosts(Zenji) and possibly other things that only people who are "special" can see(the tree on the hill.)
Can jump so high he can essentially fly, although this may be related to control of wind(though there's no notation that the wind blows when he jumps.)
Anomalies fear him and obey him, particularly when he's angry, even to the point of kneeling out of fear when he's furious.
Ren Shiranami
Stigma
Incantation - Raothtas
Effect - Cleans things?
Has only been used to remove Calamari's ink from the floor when wiping it up failed.
Artifact
Swim ring - restrains target.
Cannot be removed by the wearer.
Has a rope attached that allows the wearer to be reeled in.
Taiga Hoshibami
Stigma
Incantation - Malab
Effect - ?
Artifact
Tommy gun - takes anything broken into small enough pieces and fired from it as ammo.
Other
Damage type seems to vary based on what was placed into it. Shards of glass created a swirl of glass shards, whereas bronze from a statue shot heavier rounds.
Doesn't seem to require ammo to fire.
Doesn't seem to work on everything as Taiga says his bullets don't work on anything lately. Possibly limited to hostile entities? (He was able to shoot the Oblivion Dealer, but not able to shoot the Kyklos--which ran away--or the Barong--which was non-threatening.)
Carries a knife and a pistol.
Romeo Scorpus Lucci
Stigma
Incantation - Tiris
Effect - "turns things into bombs".
Able to turn anything into a bomb, including non-explosive objects.
The size of the blast depends on how attached to the target object its owner is. If Romeo truly values something he's blowing up, the explosion is quite destructive.
Hyde has him testing various types of prototype anomalous explosive materials for Darkwick on missions.
Artifact
"To me, these prototypes are a path to catching anomalies in one piece." which implies most of Hyde's prototypes cause non-lethal explosions.
Sniper rifle - ?
Maintains his bullets himself.
Doesn't always carry the same types of rounds. For example, he only had smoke bombs in the prologue.
Ritsu Shinjo
Stigma
Incantation - Acimo
Effect - hardens his body. Increases his weight.
Artifact
Prevents damage from concussive attacks such as kicks and bullets. If you kick him while it's active it'll hurt.
Doesn't seem to experience pain in this state.
Can survive explosions and escape from collapsed buildings unharmed.
Compendium of Laws - ?
Subaru Kagami
Has the contents memorized?
Taiga taught him to use it as a blunt weapon.
Stigma
Incantation - Talnandio
Effects - psychometry.
Experiences memory fragments through almost anything he touches.
Passive, activates on contact with people, animals, anomalies, and objects without incantation.
Using it exhausts him to the point of needing a significant amount of rest, possibly even passing out shortly after usage.
Wears gloves and avoids crowded places to try and avoid accidentally setting it off. Feels bad about being able to learn people's secrets.
Artifact
Parasol - ?
Sturdy enough to destroy a possessed doll.
Haku Kusanagi
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - ?
Implied he prefers not using it?
Artifact
Flute - ?
Used flute to remove himself and the PC from Kisaragi Station, knocking them out with some sort of ethereal water and causing them to wake up back on the empty train car.
Other
Able to see and communicate with spirits.
Able to perform various rituals such as laying spirits to rest and making talismans that allow people close to a spirit to see and hear them.
"Cordoned off the area" of the train and station the PC was on, which should have prevented interference from civilians. May be part of his Artifact or Stigma, or part of his capabilities as a Shinto priest.
Zenji Kotodama (Taro Kirisaki)
Performs the stigma test for Darkwick.
According to Taiga he's able to remove curses if the anomaly that caused the curse is in front of him. It's uncertain if this is his stigma, part of his artifact, or another power.
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - ?
Artifact
Doll - ?
Heavily resembles Jiro as a child, according to Zenji.
Won't let anyone but Zenji touch it. Protects Zenji.
Appearance slightly changes to that of an oni when angered.
Has a mind of its own. Wanders around campus without Zenji, much to his concern.
Able to damage and destroy ghosts.
Other
As a ghost, Zenji cannot be touched, meaning he can't be damaged or killed. However he covers his ears when Haku performs a ritual to lay spirits to rest and covers his face in Subaru's warding card with incense, suggesting that he would be laid to rest under the right circumstances.
Darkwick is unaware Jiro is present as only Haku and Towa(and eventually Subaru and the PC) are aware Zenji's spirit lingers. If Darkwick were to become aware of Zenji's presence they would want him laid to rest.
Due to Obon, people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits and anomalies are more frequent, causing Zenji to sometimes be visible during the summer.
Zenji brings his doll with him most everywhere, however people can only see the doll and not him. The same happens with his biwa. If he carries them, they appear to float. In the summer people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits(due to Obon) and may see or hear Zenji when they wouldn't otherwise.
Zenji can touch physical objects(his doll, his biwa, and his phone) and his footsteps are audible if he doesn't silence them.
Afraid of ghosts, possibly the dark, and maybe dead bodies.
Edward Hart
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - ?
Artifact
Cane? - ?
While his profile lists his Special Artifact as "??", he holds a cane in his combat chibi.
Other
Edward is, or was historically, the world's strongest vampire, implying a great deal of hidden power. As he is 400+ years old, he knows a great deal about anomalies that Darkwick doesn't listen to for some reason. However being old has also made his body and mind much weaker. . .allegedly.
Ed has immense power, which we've only heard of him using on the singular mission he participated in. Using it he obliterated an anomaly and a building in such a way that Darkwick struggled to cover up(unlike Tohma's destruction which was able to be explained as poor maintenance and age) suggesting he more or less vaporized it. It's unknown if this is a vampire power or his stigma.
Ed is able to transform into a bat and fly around. He doesn't seem to be able to speak in this form, only screeching loudly.
If Rui touches him, the touched part will break off(at which point it can be reattached simply by pushing it back into place,) ache intensely for a time, or he will die temporarily. However Ed is immortal and cannot die by normal means. He doesn't need to breathe and cannot be suffocated, for example.
As a vampire, Ed is rapidly exhausted by sunlight. Sunlight won't kill him instantly, but it will cause him to collapse. He claims sunlight will turn him to ash eventually, and he cannot be outside in the sun without a parasol. If it's cloudy enough, Ed is able to be outside during the day. He's usually tired during the daytime, but still seems to sleep during the night.
Ed is physically and mentally weaker during summer months, but stronger during autumn and winter.
Ed primarily drinks tears, although he mentions that he does drink blood in his character story and on the home screen. He finds that human food doesn't taste like much of anything.
Ed mentions that Lyca's soul is misshapen, however it's unclear if he can actually see his soul or if he was merely teasing him.
Rui Mizuki
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - temporary relief of pain and discomfort
Incantation has only been said in his head.
It's unclear if blowing a kiss is required to activate it or if that's just for flair.
Artifact
Scythe - allows Rui to conceal himself in darkness.
Rui admits to using his artifact to keep an eye on others on campus.
Other
Suffers from a 'Reaper Curse' which effectively makes him a reaper.
Cannot make skin contact with living things without them dying. This includes humans, animals, plants, and even mold!
Wears gloves, a turtleneck, and avoids crowded places to avoid committing manslaughter.
Absorbs the life energy of what he touches and kills. This kills almost anything instantly as most things are too weak to survive it. Absorbed energy goes straight to his body, preventing him from sleeping. He keeps himself as busy as possible as a result of having so much energy to spare.
Lyca Colt
Stigma
Incantation - Ramsochisa
Effect - allows him to follow any scent he's smelled before.
Artifact
Claws - ?
Other
Werewolf. Transforms with exposure to the full moon. "The speed of his transformation is affected by how much he's exposed to moonlight and his mental state." Sometimes feels his skin crawling when the full moon is near?
Covering his head when he's outside under the full moon prevents or regresses his transformation. Collapses after his transformation regresses from half wolf and doesn't transform while unconscious. Nothing happens to him if he's not exposed to the full moon on a full moon night. Obscuary is always a crescent moon, allowing him to be there safely during a full moon.
Werewolves have four stages: Human, partial wolf, half wolf, and full wolf. At 'half wolf' Lyca is an anthropomorphic wolf. However, he loses control of himself after he's been transformed for a while, and may attack indiscriminately.
He doesn't remember much when he transforms. He might remember less if he fully transforms?
Yuri Isami
Stigma
Incantation - Agnihaet
Effect - "hyperstimulates his braincells"
"allows him to logically process information and solve complex equations almost instantaneously."
when enhanced seemed to make the information processing instantaneous and extremely accurate?
Artifact
Syringe - Causes injuries received by the individual injected with its contents to damage the entity that inflicted them.
Jiro Kirisaki
Stigma
Incantation - ?
Effect - ?
Artifact
Chainsaw - ?
According to his Christmas home screen dialogue where he cut down a fir tree for Yuri, the chainsaw doesn't cut well. However in the chapter it seems to have no problem cutting through flesh. Perhaps it cuts through anomalies or flesh, but not other things?
Other
Jiro is noted to be especially strong.
Jiro was in a coma until an undisclosed time ago, when Yuri was able to awaken him from it. When he was comatose and for how long and why hasn't been relayed yet, however he was said to be particularly violent during The Clash, meaning he was likely awakened before or during it.
As a side effect of his condition and mysterious illness, Jiro has a poor memory, immunodeficiency, and his wounds reopen very easily. He needs four treatments a day, and they take around an hour to complete. Yuri is the only one who can administer them, and Jiro isn't able to do so himself. Even with his treatments he's forgetful and prone to being sick and has a bit of a fragile constitution. Abrupt changes in temperature, for example, make him choke.
Jiro doesn't react much to his wounds and being in pain, but he will eventually collapse from overexertion or illness if he misses a treatment or has taken too much damage.
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