#Writing(withacapitalW)

[withacapitalp]

"Can I...um...roll to run away?" 

Judging by the chorusing round of sighs and disappointed head shakes from the kids, that was definitely not the right thing to say. 

"We've nearly defeated Kyuss," Mike shouted, throwing his hands in the air and shooting Steve a severe glare. 

"But all of you are passed out or paralyzed!" Steve shot back, gesturing around the table at the rest of the figurines which were lying on their backs. 

"Yeah, but you're a tank! You could take out the monster with one more blow. Now we're going to have to do it all over again.” 

But….wasn’t that the whole point? Doing this over and over again? Steve shot a helpless look at Eddie who just gave him his DM witchy grin and spread his hands open wide. 

“You can change your mind, Sir Steven,” Eddie offered, “But be warned Kyuss is hungry for flesh,” 

Steve hesitated, looking down and around the map. 

“No…I don’t think I’m gonna.”

"God, you're so stupid sometimes, Steve," Dustin groaned, letting his head fall onto the table with a soft thunk as the rest of the party started yelling. Steve forced himself to smile, his cheeks flushing as his stomach did an uncomfortable flip flop. It was loud, it was hot, and Steve just wanted to go home. 

"Stop it.”

Eddie voice cut through the rest of them. It wasn’t like he had spoken particularly loud, it was his tone. Severe, and brimming with uncharacteristic rage. Enough to make all of them quiet down and look at Eddie with wide eyes. Steve’s anxiety got even worse, and he was sure that Eddie was about to start yelling at him. Steve let his eyes slip down, shame making all the bones in his body ache. 

"I'm sure all of you were strategic geniuses the first time you played, right? You never stumbled or needed a second to think about the right move to make?” Eddie practically snarled, throwing dirty looks at every one of the kids. Steve sucked in a breath and dared a glance up, not quite believing what he was seeing. 

Eddie was defending him. Him. Steve. And he wasn’t done yet

“You all moan and grumble and fucking whine about how 'Steve never plays DnD with us', 'Steve won't even give it a chance', ‘He would see if he just played once’” Eddie said, raising his voice to a high pitched nasally yowl, “Of course he doesn't want to give it a chance, you are all being jerks.”

“Steve can handle it,” Max said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Yeah he can,” Eddie agreed easily, sparing a quick glance over toward Steve, “but that doesn’t mean he should have to. Especially not from you all. You little nerds have never had to deal with this, because you’re always ahead of the rest, but take it from the guy who failed his senior year twice- Being called stupid your whole life hurts .”

Eddie let the final word ring out, not bothering to hide the pain that lived in those words. Steve had never really considered that Eddie might’ve heard the same things he did, cause Eddie was the smartest person Steve knew besides Dustin and maybe Will. 

“From now on anyone calling anyone else stupid is getting 10 HP knocked off of their stats. Permanently. I don't want to hear that word. Got it?”

The kids all nodded, guilt weighing down their shoulders and lowering the mood. One by one they quietly apologized to Steve, Eddie nodding in satisfaction as they did. 

Steve didn’t really know what to think.  Eddie turned towards him, and Steve stiffened up, both worried and intrigued. 

“You can roll to run away. That's actually probably the smartest thing you could do here, seeing as you're pretty much the only member of the party left standing.” Eddie said softly, giving Steve a gentle smile, “Still wanna do it?”

Steve nodded, ready to fight this battle another day.

[withacapitalp]

(Okay I saw a post about a premise similar to this but I cannot find it for the life of me. Anyway I loved it so much that I had to write a version of it myself. A post s2 AU!) Now with Part Two

Steve was never exactly the most perceptive person in the world. 

He missed all of the signals that Nancy had given him, every sign that had pointed to their failing relationship. He hadn’t seen the moments that proved she was right about everything going on in their town either. Steve overlooked important details in his college applications, and took shots in basketball that almost always missed. He even sometimes walked right into walls these days, because his spacial awareness had kinda been shot since Billy smashed a plate over his head fifteen days ago. 

A lot of that could be forgiven, but, this…

Well this was a little bit obtuse, even for him. 

“You know you’re sitting at our table, right, King Steve?” 

Steve looked up from his Tuna Surprise, resisting the urge to flinch at both the blinding light from the windows in the cafeteria and the nickname he hated so much. Eddie Munson stared back, carrying a lunch tray in one hand and his signature metal lunch box in the other. 

“Your humble court is awaiting you on the haves side of this blessed cookery. This side is where the dweebs and the nerds parlay. A single place we get a reprieve from the endless bombardment of the average” Munson continued, flinging his arms to and fro, gesturing to the group of teens behind him who were staring at Steve like he was dirt under the bottom of their shoes. 

He hadn’t understood the majority of what Eddie had just said to him, but those looks were enough to give Steve the gist. He was not welcome here. 

“Sorry,” He muttered, grabbing his tray and sliding it to the other end of the table. He took a deep breath the second he was alone again, letting the tension melt away from his body as he collapsed back in his seat. 

Even though he was no longer welcome to sit at his old table, Steve probably could have gone and eaten in the library with Nancy and Jonathan. They had awkwardly invited him to join them a few times since everything had gone down, but he always said no. 

It was better this way. Better to be alone. Better to not have to watch the two of them try and hide how much happier they were now that they could be together. They deserved that happiness, Nancy deserved that happiness, and Steve refused to be the one to make her try and stifle any of that. 

He had hurt her enough already. 

“What happened to your face?”

Once again Eddie dragged Steve out of his thoughts. He was standing over Steve’s head, nearly hovering on top of him, watching Steve like he was trying to work him out. Like Steve was a particularly complex puzzle that he could solve just with his eyes. 

Nancy had always looked at him that way. Steve had hated it when it was her, and he hated it even more coming from Munson now. 

“Got into a fight,” Steve grunted, stabbing at his shitty cafeteria food and hoping that his abrasiveness would be enough to get Munson to leave him alone.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he could say now that they had all signed another round of NDAs, but he was pretty sure even talking about this was toeing the line. It was safer all around to get Eddie to go away as quickly as possible. 

It wouldn’t be all that hard. Usually all it took were a few well placed bitchy comments to get people to see the picture and give up on him. The only group of people who hadn’t been perturbed by Steve’s spikiness was the kids. They had shown up at his house pretty much daily since the gate had closed, and had even taken to begging on him for rides to and from school. 

Dustin in particular seemed determined to stay latched onto him like a barnacle, but Steve found that he didn’t really mind their clinginess.

 It was nice to be needed, even if it was only a group of pre-teen smartasses. 

“With who?” Eddie asked, leaning his hip on the table next to Steve and crossing his arms over his chest, “Cause Billy Hargrove is telling everyone he can that he beat your ass for messing with his sister,”

“I would never do something like that,” Steve shot back instantly, feeling the fading bruises on his face twinge as his jaw clenched in fury. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth, unable to stop them, “Billy’s a racist jackass who tried to put his hands on one of my fucking kids,”

Shit. 

“There is…so many confusing parts of that sentence,” Eddie stated, blinking in shock.

“Whatever,” Steve murmured, biting his cheek to stop himself from saying anything more and hunching his shoulders up around his ears. They weren’t exactly his kids, per say, but Steve was invested in keeping them safe now. The idea of doing anything to hurt any of them was painful, and the thought of Billy spreading that kind of rumor made bile rise up in his throat. 

Fuck Billy. Fuck this. Fuck his life honestly. 

“Look, Munson, I’m really not in the mood right now,” Steve sighed, hating how weary he sounded. It would have been better to fight his way out of this. Steve was crappy at fighting though, and there wasn’t much spirit left in him. Not after two weeks of perpetual stress and tension. 

“Harrington-”

“I moved down, I’m not in your way, isn’t that good enough?” Steve bit out, halfway to just grabbing his tray and throwing it in the trash. He was barely eating anyway, might as well go to the gym to shoot some hoops instead of sitting here being interrogated by drug dealing  extraordinaire, Eddie goddamn Munson.

Couldn’t he just let Steve eat in peace? Everything else was already so goddamn difficult these days. Could Steve at least manage to eat a mediocre meal without the entire world demanding something from him? 

By the grace of whatever god was potentially out there, Eddie took the hint, pushing off of his resting place and stalking back over to his group of weirdos on the other side. Steve let his eyes slip shut and dragged in a heavy breath, utterly exhausted. 

He was contemplating skipping the rest of the day and going home to sleep when a blue plastic tray identical to the one in front of him bumped his right hand

“What are you doing?” Steve wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows and fixing Eddie with a confused look as he sat down right next to Steve and began to dig into his meal. 

“Eating lunch alone sucks?” Eddie offered, shoveling Tuna Surprise into his mouth and shuddering, pushing the rest of the disgusting concoction to the far side of his tray, “Plus I’m hoping that if I get in your good graces you’ll give me your pudding cup,”

Steve stared at him for a few more moments, waiting for whatever prank was about to be pulled. But Eddie didn’t budge, continuing to eat around his main dish with strange efficiency and ignoring Steve’s gaze. 

“Go nuts,” He finally said, offering the plastic container over to Eddie who grabbed it and gave Steve a big smile

“Mazel Tov, Eddie said, hoisting the pudding aloft and tearing into it, “So, you have children?”

“I- I babysit,” Steve stammered out, completely perplexed by the strange set of circumstances that was playing out in front of him. Eddie paused with his spoon midair in front of him. 

“You babysit,” He repeated, turning his head towards Steve. The younger teen nodded and Eddie hummed. He put his pudding down and licked his spoon clean. When he was done, he hefted it aloft, bringing it down on the back of his right hand with a smack that echoed all around the cafeteria. 

“Ouch!” Eddie yelped, flapping his hand around in the air to try and get rid of the sting. Steve looked frantically to and fro as the rest of the room stared at them, whispering behind their hands. 

“Why would you-” 

“Had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Eddie explained, interrupting Steve’s furious whisper with a breathless little laugh, “Because I just heard the words ‘I babysit’ come out of King Steve’s mouth,”

“Would you cut it out with the King stuff?” Steve snapped, beginning to lose his appetite, “It’s been a while since I was King of anything, and it was a stupid fucking idea to begin with,” 

There was a beat of awkward silence as Eddie gave him another one of those soul searching looks. 

“What are you doing Thursday afternoon?” He finally asked when he found whatever he was looking to find. Steve startled, dropping his fork. 

What kind of question was that? 

Was Munson asking him on some sort of date?!

“I’m…benched from basketball ‘cause of my concussion. So nothing, I guess,” Steve said cautiously, carefully picking his words and trying to avoid the spike of hurt that shot along his chest as he said them. 

It wasn’t much, but basketball was one of the only things Steve really thought he was genuinely good at. Not having it was kind of pure torture. 

Almost as bad as not having Nancy in his life anymore. 

“In that case, come to Hellfire,” Eddie offered, glancing at the clock on the wall and grabbing both of their trays. Steve scrambled to grab his backpack, hefting it onto one shoulder and jogging to keep up with Eddie. 

“What?”

“Hellfire?” Eddie repeated, dumping their trash into the bin and stacking the trays next to it, “It’s the club I run,”

“What is it?” Steve asked, curious but unwilling to commit just yet. There was still a part of him that was kind of convinced all of this was some elaborate ruse to fuck with him. 

But before Eddie could say anything the bell chimed all around them. The rest of the student population moved as one, and the sound in the lunchroom immediately went from dull roar to cacophonous mess. Steve’s left ear started to ring again, and he winced, shying away from the sudden noise. 

“You’ll have to come and see,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, completely ignorant to Steve’s pain. He turned on his heel, raising a hand in a wave behind him as he loped towards the rest of his friend group.

“Thursday after school! In the drama room, don’t be late!”

[withacapitalp]

Daisies

Read it on ao3 instead

Eddie was never a deep sleeper. Years of living in cars and on couches taught him to always have an ear out. Always be able to wake up in an instant, always be alert, ready to fight whoever might be coming at you. Living with Wayne helped to ease that compulsion a bit, but in general, Eddie was never truly fully relaxed when he slept. Everything that had happened over Spring Break hadn’t helped matters in the slightest. 

So he was awake the second Steve started to choke. 

He was so quick that Steve was still asleep, curled up on his side in the absolutely adorable way that usually made Eddie smile. There was no smile tonight, just an anxious little whimper and a boy frozen in fear, because his partner was choking on nothing and not waking up. 

“Steve?” Eddie whispered, reaching out with a shaking hand and touching Steve’s shoulder. “Baby?” 

Steve continued to gasp, his chest heaving in a strange and awful way as he tried and failed to breathe. Eddie was about to do something more, anything to make him stop, when Steve’s eyes opened. He was the picture of panic for all of two seconds, before he was sitting up, roughly coughing. 

He hacked out a few more harsh sounding noises, before he spat into his open palm, taking a relieved breath as whatever was lodged in his throat came out. Eddie would’ve been relieved too, confused, but okay now that Steve was safe. 

And then he saw what was in Steve’s hand. 

A daisy. Steve had just coughed up a fucking daisy. And, judging by the completely blasé expression he had on his face as he looked down at it, this wasn’t the first time. 

What the fuck?

Eddie had seen Hanahaki before, just once. Some girl in middle school had fallen in love with a dumb jock, a classic move that had felt like a cliche to him at the time. When the jerk rejected her in front of everyone, she had collapsed to her knees in the middle of the cafeteria, spitting out thorny roses till she passed out. 

She lived, but just barely, and had gotten the surgery to remove the roses wrapped around her lungs. By the next week she was happy as a clam, living without a single memory of the incident that had left the rest of the school in total shock. 

Seeing it now gave Eddie the same exact feelings he had all those years ago. A deep sense of discomfort from encroaching on something that incredibly intimate, an odd mix of revulsion and jealousy, and a deep seated wish to be anywhere but where he was at this moment. 

It was even worse now that it was Steve. 

His boyfriend slid out of bed, quietly padding over to the ensuite without even so much as a glance Eddie’s way, leaving behind the flower. Steve didn’t shut the door all the way, so Eddie could hear him cough a few more times. As he did, Eddie picked up the daisy, examining it. 

It was just a regular daisy, white as snow except for a few spots of blood sitting innocently on its petals. Nothing special about it, nothing significant. Apart from the fact that it was Steve’s daisy.  

Steve’s daisy for someone that wasn’t him. 

“Who?” Eddie asked when Steve came back into view looking utterly exhausted. His voice was flat, lacking any of the emotion he usually had. It was like someone had torn his heart out, and now he was just hollow, hollow, hollow. 

Steve hummed in confusion, quirking his head to the side as he leaned his entire body against the doorway, blinking slowly. 

“Who is it?” Eddie clarified, holding up the daisy. Any trace of sleepiness vanished from Steve’s features. He stood up painfully straight, even took a step back, like Eddie had screamed instead of whispered. 

“I’m not mad,” Eddie rushed to say, trying to calm Steve’s quiet panic. He wasn’t mad, his heart was just shattering, falling to pieces on the floor between them. Was that better? “I…I just want to know.” 

He didn’t just want to, he had to. He had to know who had stolen Steve’s heart, or if it had ever been his to claim in the first place. Had Steve had the daisies the entire time? Was he just humoring Eddie anytime he said he loved him? Eddie didn’t want to think that Steve had entered into their relationship out of pity, or some sense of obligation, but any and all confidence Eddie had previously had flew out the window the second that daisy had appeared. 

Were they from Nancy?

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Steve muttered, avoiding eye contact as he played with a loose thread on his pajama pants. 

He looked oddly vulnerable there, half dressed and making himself smaller than he was, hiding in the doorway instead of curling up in Eddie’s arms where he belonged. On any other night, Eddie would coax him to bed with promises and teasing little jabs that made him both laugh. 

But not tonight. Tonight there were daisies in the bathroom sink and one in Eddie’s hand ruining everything they had built. 

“I deserve to know when my own boyfriend is in love with someone else,” Eddie hissed, harsher than he meant to. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and fuck, maybe he was mad. Not really at Steve, but at the world. The chaotic black universe that they lived in, whatever awful god lived out in the cosmos that had chosen to damn him specifically. 

Whatever deity existed that loved to give Eddie good things and snatch them away the second he got comfortable. 

“They aren’t- I’m not in love with someone else,” Steve protested weakly, still looking anywhere but at Eddie. 

Eddie scoffed, holding up the daisy between them, pinching it in between his thumb and forefinger like it was something exceptionally disgusting to hold. He had the rabid urge to tear the flower to shreds, destroy it before it could destroy everything they had. 

“It’s not like that,” Steve insisted stubbornly, finally looking up at Eddie with fiery eyes. He went to keep going but the determination disappeared and an odd expression overtook Steve’s features. He braced himself against the door frame, bringing one hand up to his mouth as another bout of coughing overtook him. 

Eddie watched Steve struggle, losing any of the merciless rage that had been rushing through his veins as he watched the love of his life attempt to take a breath. When Steve slid slowly to the floor, Eddie was there, kneeling beside him with a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“What can I do? Do you need me to call someone? You need a hospital, don’t you? This is serious, and you can’t breathe. Should I start doing CPR or the Heimlich or-” Eddie cut himself off with a jolt, biting his tongue to stop any more panicked rambles from escaping. 

He was spending way too much time around Robin. 

Steve shook his head, still coughing. Two more daisies tumbled out into his hand before he dragged a long breath in, letting his head tip back and hit against the jamb. 

“I took my meds,” Steve whispered, his voice ragged and painful sounding, “It’ll clear up. I just have to get out any ones that actually sprouted. It’s not dangerous, it just hurts.”

He said it so plainly, in such a Steve way. Like it didn’t matter at all that it hurt, or that it seemed pretty goddamn scary to choke on daisies on the regular. 

Despite everything that was happening, Eddie let out a soft little incredulous laugh, reaching over and kissing Steve’s forehead. It was probably a strange thing to do, all things considered, but Steve was smiling now, giving Eddie a starry eyed look that made it all inexplicably feel okay. 

“How long have you- why not just get the surgery?” Eddie asked, reaching out and grabbing the hand that wasn’t currently full of daisy blossoms, “It’s way safer-“

“No,” Steve said, soft, but firm. He carefully placed the blooms down next to them, toying with the petals before squeezing Eddie’s fingers and rubbing the column of his throat, his eyes far far away. “I won’t.”

Won’t. Not can’t. Steve would not do it, which meant whoever they were for mattered to him. Hanahaki surgery was one hundred percent- not only did it get rid of the flowers, but the emotions that had caused them in the first place. You never remembered the person who had made them grow. 

Eddie quickly ran through their friends, all of the people in Steve’s life. He could only think of one person who Steve could be in love with, one person who didn’t love him back. At least, not the way Steve probably wanted her to. 

“Nancy,” Eddie stated rather than asked, already knowing the answer. Steve still loving Nancy wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Nancy had made it clear that she didn’t love Steve like that, and they had both moved on. Maybe Steve could still love Eddie part of the way like this, maybe that could be enough. Having a bit of Steve’s heart was better than none at all. 

But Steve shook his head, still fiddling with the petals of his daisies. 

“I told you, it’s not like that,” Steve whispered, looking utterly miserable. He coughed half-heartedly, but no flowers emerged. When Steve was done he sighed, closing his eyes and worrying his lip the way he always did when he was trying to keep his emotions steady. 

Eddie was missing something. Something obvious. It should have been a big glaring neon sign right in front of him with the most basic answer in the world. But try as he might, he still couldn’t see who the daisies would be for if not Nancy. 

Who else could Steve love that didn’t love him back? 

He should stop asking. This wasn’t the time. His boyfriend was in pain in every way, and Steve didn’t need to be interrogated. They had all the time in the world, Eddie needed to just drop it. Steve would tell him, eventually. He always did. Getting secrets from Steve took a long time, but he always gave in at some point. Eddie just had to be patient, and kind, and everything Steve was so good at. 

“Then what’s it like?” Eddie asked anyway, his curiosity overtaking the selfless part of him that was cursing his own name. 

Steve contemplated his answer for a long time, spitting up another daisy before he finally began to speak. 

“When I was in third grade, our teacher had us raise caterpillars into butterflies to teach us about life cycles. Did you ever do that?”

“No,” Eddie immediately replied, confused and slightly irritated by the sudden change of path. What did butterflies have to do with Steve’s love life? 

“We should do it together. It was fun,” Steve said, a wistful little smile on his face as he stared out in the distance, “Everyone got their own glass jar with twigs and leaves and all that, and one little green caterpillar. We could name them whatever we wanted, and Miss Katie would put their name on the jar so we would know who’s was who’s. I named mine Beatrix after the woman who wrote my favorite story.” 

None of this mattered. Was Steve trying to distract him? It wasn’t usually the way he did things, but Eddie had also never expected he was hiding something like this. 

“Wh-“

“Eventually she became a butterfly,” Steve continued, steamrolling past Eddie’s attempt at asking what the hell was going on. He was speaking, and he wouldn’t let himself be interrupted. Eddie settled back, trying to hide how annoyed he was. 

“Beatrix was a monarch. She was so pretty, Eddie, I wanted to keep her forever. But Miss Katie said we had to let them go, or they would die. So we all brought our jars home, to let them free with our parents.” Steve was forced to stop here, another vicious round of choking producing three daisies, all bloodied. He placed them in a row with the other three, all six staring up accusingly at Eddie, like he was the reason they had appeared. 

But he wasn’t. That was the whole problem. 

“I knew exactly what I was going to do. There was this patch of daisies at the end of our garden. My mom had planted them when she and my dad first got married, and they were her favorite flowers. I thought she would like to let Beatrix live there, so we could see her till she flew away.” Steve explained. 

Eddie had seen the daisies before. The garden itself was mostly gone by now, just empty plots of dirt with chicken wire around them, but the daisies were still there. They had lasted almost till November, pretty drops of white that stubbornly bloomed for as long as they could. 

They looked just like the flowers Steve was coughing up. 

A dark pit started to form in Eddie’s stomach as he took in the implications, the dots beginning to form a macabre picture that made him wish he had listened to his better instincts before. He shouldn’t have asked, he shouldn’t have pressed, Steve should have told him this story when he was ready. 

But…maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe Steve would have carried this alone forever. 

“When I got home my parents were already gone. They had something they had to do, I can’t even remember what it was. The sitter was supposed to get there in an hour, but I was by myself. Just me and my butterfly,” Steve cut himself off with a single laugh that sounded more like a gasped out sob, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is so stupid.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly, holding Steve’s hand in a death grip, reaching out and taking the other one too just for good measure, pulling it away from his face so he couldn’t hurt himself, “it isn’t.” 

Steve gave him a millisecond long smile, instantly going back to the somber mask he was wearing before. 

“I wasn’t supposed to play outside if my parents weren’t home, but why should I listen? They weren’t here. They left again. My mom left again. She never used to leave before that year, but it felt like all she did was leave then. I went outside and over to the daisies, and I sat in front of them, just… just wanting my mama. Wanting her to come back, wanting her here with me, wanting her to love the daisies again like she used to,” Steve said, ducking his head down and lowering his voice till it was almost nothing. 

They both knew he didn’t just mean the daisies, but neither mentioned it. 

“I can still remember it, the first one. I thought I just had to cry, but couldn’t for some reason. Then I realized I already was crying, and there was still that feeling. The one you get when your throat closes, and you can’t breathe because there’s something blocking it up,” Steve untangled from Eddie, reaching up to his throat again. 

Eddie had seen him do it a thousand times. He had thought it was related to the bats, some phantom feeling of a tail still wrapped around his neck trying to strangle him. Even given a million years, Eddie never would have gotten to the truth. 

“I coughed up a flower. A daisy. It looked just like the ones right in front of me. I thought I was dreaming, but then I couldn’t stop coughing. I woke up by myself in the hospital,” Steve said, finishing his story with a whisper and a bitter little smile. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, trailing off. He had no idea what to say, how to try and help. He needed to help, needed to do something, but what could Eddie do in the face of over a decade of knowing his love for his mother was unrequited? 

“I love you,” Steve said, still reassuring Eddie, because that was who he was. He cared about everyone so much more than he cared about himself, even when they didn’t deserve it. “These don’t- they’re-“

“I understand,” Eddie replied, cutting Steve off as he reached over and pulled his boyfriend into his arms. Steve went easily, tucking himself against Eddie’s chest as he shook with another round of coughs. “Well I don’t know if I could ever understand, but I love you, and I’m here.” 

The coughs subsided, but Steve’s shoulders continued to shake. Eddie hugged him impossibly closer, laying his cheek on the top of Steve’s head and closing his eyes to block out the image of the daisies. 

“I love you. I love you, and I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

[withacapitalp]

Corroded Coffin gains a weird reputation in the metal world for having really accessible concerts.

It's still a metal concert. There's no avoiding killer loud music and rowdy crowds, but they do so many things other bands don't. They hand out CC themed ear plugs and headphones for free as merchandise, even though it loses them a ton of money to not charge, they're one of the first bands in the scene to have an interpreter who travels with them and signs at their shows, they offer free tickets to all personal assistants, they refuse to play venues that aren't wheelchair accessible. They won't even accept 'temporarily' wheelchair accessible. Places that put up a hasty ramp that will easily get torn down after they leave are unacceptable.

It becomes a pretty big deal as they gain publicity and fame. Fans know going in about the things that are always the same at every show, and they end up creating a stir in the metal community about making concerts something everyone can enjoy.

And the most important thing (for Eddie at least) is they never do pyrotechnics or strobe. Ever. There is no flashing lights, so sudden bursts of fire at any Corroded Coffin show, not even for the openers. They won't even play big concerts with other huge bands if they're going to have those special effects. Managers and fans alike have practically begged for these things, but the band always shuts it down. No discussion, no explanation, just a simple 'no'.

The real fans know the reason. They know that it's all for the lead singers found family, so they can go to any show they want to if they decide to. It's for the family, but especially the sweater loving weirdo who's been going to their shows since 1986. The one who never misses so much as a rehearsal, even though he doesn't really like metal music. The one always sitting on the sidelines wearing industrial grade neon orange headphones, heart eyes, and a big smile.

[withacapitalp]

On the first day of school, Eddie had stood on their table in the cafeteria and declared that this was going to be his year. 

Well, ‘86 was going to be his year. Technically it was still ‘85 for three more months, but semantics semantics.  The rest of the club was confused, not exactly sure why he felt like this year was going to be different to the years of torture and mayhem that had proceeded it, but they appreciated Eddie’s insane amounts of optimism. 

Then two weeks later, Eddie spotted a group of lost little freshmen sheep. The one wearing a Weird Al t-shirt introduced himself as Dustin Henderson when Eddie came over to offer them refuge amongst the freaks of the school, and there was no doubt in the world that Eddie had been right. 

‘86 was going to be his year. 

Because it wasn’t like Dustin was a super rare name, but Eddie had never met a Dustin in Hawkins before that day. Meeting Dustin Henderson wasn’t just a fantastic coincidence, it was fate in action. 

Because Dustin Henderson was going to be the reason Eddie met his soulmate. 

Eddie had never shown anyone but Wayne his words. They had always been something sacred, special, no one else needed to know. There were people who showed everyone in the world, always looking for the person that might be the one to complete them, the one who would have words that matched their own. Eddie wasn’t one of those people. 

Even Gareth didn’t know.  

But, every night before bed, Eddie would carefully unwrap the bandage he always kept wound around his upper arm, looking down at the words and carefully tracing them with a single fingertip. 

Yeah. On Dust-Dustin’s mother. 

Dustin’s mother. They were so distinctive, so unique. It wasn’t the thing everyone dreaded- ‘How are you?’, ‘How can I help you?’, or even the worst, ‘Hi’. Eddie’s words were special, and that meant his soulmate was special too. 

Eddie had no idea what to expect from that first conversation, but he knew it was going to be wild. Probably some long winded crazy debate with laughter and sharp quips, and finally those words pushed out between giggles, which was the reason they would be shuttered. 

What Eddie never would have expected was to hear those words come out of Steve’s Harrington’s mouth. 

He never even thought that the words might be stuttered in fear, not laughter. Fear because of Eddie. Fear because of the broken bottle being held against his neck by his own damn soulmate.

Except no. No it couldn’t be him. Steve Harrington was not his soulmate. Steve Harrington was a jock douchebag, the kind of person Eddie had spent his entire life campaigning against. Steve Harrington was the epitome of everything Eddie wasn’t, and there was no way the universe or fate or god meant for them to be together. 

There had to be someone else in the room, someone he hadn’t seen who was going to appear out of the darkness and repeat exactly what Steve said.  

“Did you just say the words Dustin’s fucking mother to me?” Eddie growled out, desperate to be wrong, watching as Steve’s face grew impossibly whiter. There was a sharp burn on his upper arm, and he shakily dropped the bottle, hearing it shatter on the ground between the two of them. 

No doubt about it. Steve Harrington was his fucking soulmate. 

“Oh my god,” Robin Buckley said faintly from the background, but Eddie didn’t turn to face her. He couldn’t turn away from Steve, who was staring at him with the widest, most beautiful set of brown eyes Eddie had ever seen. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Steve offered, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

Eddie stumbled backward, the back of his thighs hitting up against the boat he had been hiding in. He roughly jerked at the right sleeve of his shirt, pulling it upward until the deep black words were visible, standing out against his pale skin. 

Steve fell back against the side of the boat house with a shaking sigh, slowly pulling off his jacket and peeling back one side of his stupid button down polo. He had left the top three buttons undone which made it easy for Steve to expose his soulmark to the rest of them. 

And there, sitting right over Steve’s heart, were the words he had just said.

Did you just say the words Dustin's fucking mother to me?

The first words Eddie Munson had ever directly said to Steve Harrington. 

[withacapitalp]

Alternative

Steve stepped out of the ensuite attached to his room, wrapping a towel securely around his waist as he walked towards the closet, humming a tune he had forgotten the name of. For once, he was actually early. He had plenty of time to choose what he wanted to wear, do his hair, maybe even make some breakfast before he had to pick up Robin for their mid morning shift. 

Except, when he went to open the closet doors, not a lick of clothing was left inside. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve muttered to himself. A quiet little giggle came from outside of the room, but when Steve turned on a dime, there was no one in the doorway. 

“Eddie,” Steve groaned, “Get back over here!” 

No response, just the sound of extremely noisy footsteps. Steve forced himself to count to 10, whirling around and stomping over to his dresser. Also empty. He was about to shout again, force his boyfriend to come here and fix whatever he had done, when an innocent looking pile of clothes sitting on the bed caught his eye. 

Of course. This is what Steve got for falling in love with a trickster. 

The pile had a tiny note on it. It was a pale blue piece of construction paper that just said I picked out your clothes for you today. Make sure to thank me ;)

“Thank you,” Steve scoffed aloud, looking through the clothes. He was prepared to go down butt naked and tackle his boyfriend to the floor, when an even better plan began to form in his mind. Steve smirked, grabbing the pile and racing back over to the bathroom. 

He had things he had to do. 

A little less than a half hour later, he was ready. He took one more cursory glance in the mirror, and the smile on his face was completely predatory. Steve barely recognized himself, and he kinda liked it. 

Now it was time to give Eddie exactly what he had asked for. 

“Good morning Sunshine,” His partner called when he heard the sound of boots clunking down the steps, “I heard some commotion up there, have you been calling?”

“You’re a jackass,” Steve shot back. He could hear Eddie grinning from all the way on the other side of the house. 

He wouldn’t be grinning for much longer. 

“Let me see you,” Eddie said excitedly, and Steve bit his lip, rolling his shoulders back and striding into the kitchen with all the confidence he could muster/fake. 

“Let’s see how uh-” Eddie cut himself off with an unintelligible blubber, his jaw hanging wide open as he took in the full sight of Steve’s look for the day. 

Eddie had chosen the clothes- one of his loose band tees and tight ripped skinny jeans completed with a pair of Doc Martens- but, Steve had taken it to the next level. He had added the leather cuffs that Eddie had bought for him for their anniversary, stolen some of his boyfriend’s rings, and styled his hair into a much spikier and dangerous look. 

Steve had even put on eyeliner, and a touch of the lipgloss he swore he did not own. 

It wasn’t really his style, but he knew he objectively looked good. Objectively good, and definitely like something in one of Eddie’s wildest fantasies.  

“What’s wrong ‘Big Boy’? Can’t handle the heat now that you set the kitchen on fire?” Steve teased, unable to help himself. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Eddie managed to stutter out, still just staring at Steve. 

Steve crossed the room, and he heard Eddie gulp as he approached, felt him shiver when Steve invaded his space and slipped his hand into Eddie’s back pocket. 

“Hmmmm, no sorry. I have to go pick up Robin now.” He whispered into his boyfriend’s ear, pulling back and taking Eddie’s bandanna with him. Steve tucked it into his own pocket on the other side, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek and loving the soft whimper Eddie let out when he did, “I just wanted to thank you before I left like you asked,” 

Steve ducked away, practically sprinting out of the house as he cackled to himself. Yes, he was probably going to get a lot of weird looks at work today, but it was definitely going to be worth it when he got home tonight. 

[withacapitalp]

“Okay, so now we add the water, right?”

“No! No water!” Steve practically shouted, grabbing the pot and holding it high above his head so Joyce couldn’t reach it, “Joyce, we’ve talked about this,”

She rolled her eyes, putting the measuring cup on the counter and sighing. Robin and the kids giggled from their spot in the living room, the parade turned down low so they could hear every bit of the clownery going on in the kitchen. Steve turned the evil eye on them and put one hand on his hip. 

“And, peanut gallery, if you want to have food, you’ll want to keep your snark at bay. Unless you want to be the ones in here helping me make an entire Thanksgiving meal for fourteen.”

“Always the mom,” Max sighed, patting her stomach, “I’ll have you know if we’re not eating by five o’clock sharp, Nugget here will be making Lucas drive us to McDonalds,” 

Steve waved her off and turned back to the stove, placing down the pot and stirring his perfectly prepared potatoes. It felt kind of weird to keep thinking of them as kids now that they were all graduating from college. But, to Steve, they would always be kids. No matter how tall, how old, how many nuggets of their own they had, those seven little kids would always be the stupid pre-teens that had given him his life. 

“Now, it’s important to remember to continue to whisk, or else they’ll get clumpy.” Steve instructed in a no nonsense tone. He had eaten enough of her radioactive cooking to know where she would start to lose sight of the final product. 

“Are you torturing my wife?” Hopper asked as he entered into the fray, grabbing another round of beers for him and the boys. Steve could just catch the sound of Jonathan and Wayne yelling at the TV in the bedroom upstairs, calling the referee out on some bullshit play. 

“This is the real question, Hop. Is your wife torturing my husband?” A voice came from behind him, soft and buttery. A voice Steve had desperately missed, even though this trip had only been a short few weeks.

Steve hummed, leaning back into Eddie’s arms and letting his eyes slip shut for a second. Eddie had only been in Chicago for three weeks to re-record something for his newest album, but to Steve it was always too long.  Warm pale arms littered with scars came up around him, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. No government would ever recognize it, they couldn’t really tell the world, but the ring on that chain was everything to Steve, just like the man who had given it to him. 

“She is,” Steve fake-whispered into Eddie’s ear, “She’s trying to poison us all with liquid potatoes,”

“Lucky for us, we have you,” Eddie whispered back, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek from behind, “God bless you, Mr. Potato Man.”

Steve snickered, turning around so he could fully face his partner. Eddie’s hair was shorter now than it was when they were young and stupid, and he was starting to get crows feet in the corner of his eyes.

He was more beautiful every time Steve saw him. 

“Quick! Eddie distract him while I put water in the potatoes!” Joyce cried. Eddie immediately went along with it, yanking Steve away from the stove and ignoring his protests as she began to experiment. Steve conceded defeat the second the paprika was pulled out of the cupboard. Some things would just never change. 

Eddie dragged him into the hallway, hiding them ever so slightly from the rest. 

“Glad to be home,” He murmured, hugging Steve close and resting their foreheads together. 

Home. The home Eddie had bought him all those years ago. The carpet in the living room was a soft cream now instead of gaudy orange, and there were boxes filled with mums in each window. The mold problem had been fully eradicated, but the screen door still swung open and shut in the wind. 

Steve didn’t mind it anymore.  It was just a part of the charm of their house. 

Their house. Even now it made his heart fill to the bursting to think of it. Their house.  

But now that Eddie was back, it was really home. 

[withacapitalp]

Little Bird, Little Bird, Fly Through My Window

Read it on ao3 instead!

Robin’s mom calls her every Thursday at exactly 7:30 pm. 

When she and Steve moved to New York so she could go to school, her parents initially pitched a fit about it. Moving 12 hours away, to the biggest city in the world, with a man she didn’t have any plans to marry? 

Yeah, that certainly led to a few raised voices in the Buckley household. 

But, once they got over the initial shock, her parents had come around to the idea. She was an adult, so they couldn’t stop her if she really wanted to, and Steve could charm birds off the trees with the right smile and sweet words. When she had finally convinced them that Steve was honestly just her best friend- no they weren’t sleeping together, no they weren’t secretly dating- they had agreed to support her. With a few conditions of course. 

One: Don’t get pregnant. 

Robin was pretty sure she would be able to avoid that one 

Two: No going out at night without Steve. 

Yes, they were still a little suspicious of whatever was going on there, but no one would bother her if he was walking next to her. That was fine, she didn’t really like to go anywhere without Steve anyway, that was the whole point of him leaving Hawkins with her. 

Three: Her mother was going to call their apartment every Thursday at 7:30 pm, and Robin better answer the phone every single time. 

That was the most annoying one. 

Her mom just liked to talk so much. Olivia Buckely was a born and bred Midwesterner, and Robin had never had a phone call with her that didn’t last for at least two and a half hours. She always felt the need to update her daughter on every single member of their family, each neighbor, and all of her coworkers. What they had done, what they hadn’t done, who they were seeing, who they weren’t seeing anymore...all of it. 

Robin couldn’t have cared less about any of that, but her mom still held her hostage anyway. 

In all honesty, it was a small thing to have to fit in. She and Steve had settled quickly into their new life, and they had made a ritual for Thursday nights to deal with the annoyance of the phone. 

They would come home from their jobs or their schools, and Steve would make Robin whatever she wanted for dinner. It didn’t matter how elaborate or how silly, he would make it. Once she had requested only a chocolate cake, just to see what he would do. An hour and a half later he presented her with a two layered masterpiece complete with birthday candles, just for shits and giggles. 

They would eat dinner together on their lumpy little sofa, plates balanced precariously in their laps as they watched a movie on their tiny little box TV. Then, when the phone inevitably rang at 7:30 on the dot, Steve would take both of their plates and go do the dishes, coming back to the living room afterward to do whatever while Robin stood by the phone and slowly lost her mind. 

Then, afterward, they would get rip roaring drunk. 

It worked for them. It was annoying, but it worked for them. 

It was on one of those Thursdays that Robin got the biggest shock of her life. 

“Joanie called by the way. That woman who just married your Uncle Mitchell? I swear, I don’t know how he continues to get women to fall for him, he’s been married three times already. She’s a nice girl though, so I hope they make it, but she did bring along two kids of her own, so who knows?” Her mother prattled on, uncaring of the fact that her daughter was going to jump out their fifth story window if she had to hear much more of this. 

Robin hummed to show her mom she was still listening, turning around to face Steve and miming putting a gun to her head. 

He smirked at her and pushed up his glasses, lowering his gaze back down to the textbook in his lap. He had a test in one of his education classes tomorrow, and he was still studying. It was on Blooms….Bloom’s….

Bloom’s Whatever. It had to do with how kids learned, Robin knew that much. She had been helping him study for the last five days, but none of it really stuck in her head. It was weird, this was the first time that he really understood something that she couldn’t comprehend. 

Oh well. It was stuck in Steve’s head, that was all that mattered. 

“-plays baseball or something. And the older one is just a little bit younger than you, actually. Apparently, it was a teen pregnancy, a very big deal. Her parents disowned her, can you believe that?” 

“No, I can’t,” Robin lied, not really sure who she was in disbelief for. Was this still about Mitch’s new wife, Jane? 

Regardless of who, Robin could easily believe in someone’s parents disowning them when they found out something they didn’t like.

She could very easily believe that. 

“Well, he is a very nice boy, Robin, a good addition to the family. You’ll like him, they’ll all be here when you come home for the holidays. He might even bring his boyfriend too. Oh, and please get me the times for your flights, honey. Your father wants to take off work so he can pick you two up,” Olivia said, her tone etching into impatience. 

Robin opened her mouth to complain about her mom nagging her again about flights that weren’t happening for almost a whole month, but then her words finally registered in Robin’s brain. 

Boyfriend. His boyfriend. 

Her mom had just casually used the words ‘his boyfriend’. 

“I’m sorry?” Robin said, her voice slightly strangled. 

She must have misheard her, or the phone was malfunctioning. Somewhere along the 750 miles of line, it had to have cut out or warped the words, because there was no way in hell her extremely religious mother had just used the words ‘his’ and ‘boyfriend’ together in a sentence without bursting into flame. 

“Your flights! Darling, I’ve asked you about this a thousand times. Put Steve on the phone, he’ll help me. I know I wasn’t sure about you moving out to that big city all alone with that boy, but honestly, now I thank my lucky stars that you have him. At least someone there would be able to find their head if it wasn’t attached!” Her mother teased. 

Normally this was where Robin would get snarky, call her mom out for being just as forgetful as her. She couldn’t this time, she was too focused on the fact that all of the air seemed to have left the room in an instant, and her body had become mysteriously hollow. 

“I wasn’t- his boyfriend?” Robin repeated, needing some kind of clarification. Steve, who had been happily eavesdropping on Robin’s side of the call the entire time, slowly put his book on the table, watching Robin with a worried look. 

Olivia, who didn’t seem to have noticed the shift in her daughter’s mood, continued to gossip. 

“Yes. Mitchell’s new wife Joanie? She brought her sons with her to Thanksgiving. Eric is the younger boy and Kyle is the older one. He brought his boyfriend Derek, who is a lovely young man by the way! He’s in school in Chicago studying finance, that’s where they met. He reminds me a lot of Steve actually. He has this thing he does with children, some sort of outreach? He was telling me-

“Mom,” Robin cut in, hard and fast. That was sometimes the only way to get a word in when it came to her mother, and Robin needed that word. 

She wanted to ask a thousand questions, she had a hundred different things running through her brain. 

She couldn’t find a single word. 

“Robin? What’s wrong, little bird?” Her mother asked in a careful loving tone, using her childhood nickname. 

Robin leaned back, her knees knocking together as she shook, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. Steve got up from the couch, crossing the room in just a few steps and coming to sit by her side. Without a word he held out his hand, and she grabbed it with her free one, squeezing too tight. A rush of love for her best friend swept through her, and Robin squeezed his hand again. 

Steve always just knew what she needed, and Robin had no idea how she had lived seventeen years of her life without him. 

“You don’t- I mean you-” Robin cut herself off, lowering her voice to a whisper of complete bafflement, “You don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind what, my love?” Her mother asked, perplexed. 

Robin smothered down a laugh, completely baffled. In the past four years she had lived through actual monster attacks and the literal apocalypse, but this was the most unbelievable thing that had ever happened to her. 

“That he has a boyfriend?” Robin clarified, pulling her hand away from Steve for a second to run her fingers anxiously through her hair, before latching onto him again, “You don’t mind that Kasey, Kyle, whoever, has a boyfriend?” 

“Oooooooh!” Her mother said, finally putting the dots together,  “Well, it’s a little unconventional, but the boy is very nice. Both of them are!”

Very nice. Her mother, who literally carried a pocket bible in her purse at all times, just called a gay boy and his partner ‘very nice’. 

Briefly Robin considered that she might’ve died in the Upside Down a year ago. There was no way this was reality. 

“I didn’t think you had a problem with gay people,” Her mother commented after the silence had gone on for a touch too long.  

“I don’t,” Robin quickly said, searching for an explanation that wasn’t ‘I’m a gay people’, “I just, I didn’t know you didn’t.” 

“Of course I don’t! Have I ever said I did?” Her mother asked, sounding worried. 

She didn’t need to say it. The endless crosses all around their house said it. The constant bible verses said it. The Reagan yard sign said it. The pastor at their church who said AIDS was God’s Will said it. All of those things spoke louder than words ever could. 

But Robin had no idea how to explain that. 

“You go to church every week!” She finally sputtered out, as if that was enough. 

“And?”

“You quote the bible at me constantly!” Robin protested, her voice raising.  

Steve’s hand slid out of hers, and he wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing up and down on the top of her arm soothingly. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to make her let go of the emotions starting to ramp up. 

“I mean, c’mon mom,” She said softly, letting her heart open up that same painful wound she had carried all her life, “What was I supposed to think?” 

“Well let me quote you some more bible then, dear, because you’re clearly missing the most important thing,” Her mother said, and Robin could hear the fluttering pages in her mind as Olivia looked for exactly what she wanted to say. When she found it she gave a quiet exclamation before clearing her throat, the way she always did when she wanted to ‘speak the good word’

“John 4:7 Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.”

Robin’s mother had been quoting scripture at her her entire life. On her good days, Robin was able to just roll her eyes and politely smile and nod along. On her bad days…well there had been a lot of bad days. Never once had she felt comforted by anything in the bible. 

Well, never before this moment. 

Robin bit at her trembling lip, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Steve’s forehead gently knocked against the side of her head, and she leaned into him, keeping a death grip on the receiver as her mother stayed quiet on the other side of the line. 

“I- I’m-” Robin stopped herself. The quiet stretched out into a thin tense thing, until her mother’s voice rang out again. 

“Robin, darling, I would never hate someone for what they were born as. Kyle didn’t choose to be born a homosexual, the lord made him that way,” Robin scoffed as her mother quoted gay anthems back at her. Her mom paused again, then spoke even quieter, “My most important commandment from Jesus is to love him, exactly as he is.”

“And you...don’t think it’s a sin?”

Because that’s the thing that really scared her. 

Sure, Robin had always worried about the big reaction- the yelling, the hatred, her parents telling her they never wanted to see her again, but that wasn’t what kept her up at night. But there fear that kept her from taking the leap. There was a reason Steve was the first person to know instead of her own mother.

Robin was afraid her mother would love her anyway. 

Olivia would smile, and brush her hair back, and promise to love Robin anyway. In spite of the fact that she was a lesbian, in spite of the undeniable fact that her daughter was going to go to hell. She was scared her father would pretend that he accepted it, and behind the closed doors, they would be disappointed. Her parents loved her, and she was terrified that they would continue to love her anyway. 

Robin wouldn’t be able to handle that. She could stand being hated, but being loved with a new asterisk attached would kill her. 

“It’s not on me to decide what sin is, or to judge someone even if I believe I see one. Don’t forget the story of the adultress,” Her mother said instead of answering the question. 

“But do you think it is a sin?” Robin pressed, needing the answer now that she had finally asked the question, "Do you think it is sinful for him to like boys?"

“No, I don’t. All he did was fall in love,” Olivia stated. As if it was that simple. 

As if Robin had never had a thing to worry about. All that pain, all that self-loathing, all those nights she cried herself to sleep, all of it was completely unnecessary. 

Robin’s mind raced, trying to find any way to make this make sense with what she had known all her life. Maybe it was different if it was your own kid. Sure, it might be easy to accept some random new wife’s gay son, but her very own daughter? Her mother surely would have a different reaction then, right? 

Right? 

She had stayed quiet too long again. Her mother spoke up once more. 

“Sweetheart…I love you very much. You know I love you more than anything,” She started slowly, and Robin’s breath caught in her throat. This was it. It was time. Her secret was up. 

“But if I have raised you to think that it is alright to condemn someone because of something out of their control, then I have to tell you that I disagree. Wholeheartedly.”

Robin laughed. 

She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and leaned into Steve’s side, and let her tears flow. She laughed for a long time, far longer than she should have, and her mom stayed silent the entire time, listening to her reaction. 

“No, mom. That’s, that’s not it,” Robin finally managed to choke out. Her breath was still hitching, and her shoulders were still shaking, even though the laughter had died away. 

Another long pause. 

Another frighteningly long pause. Robin didn’t dare to speak first. 

“You know, your father and I talked for a long time about your plans to go to New York,” Her mother finally said, clearly starting down the long winding path of a story. Robin curled up in her soulmate’s arms and let the phone receiver sit nestled between them both. 

“You were awful insistent about going with Steve. You kept swearing up and down that you weren’t dating. I’ll be honest, we didn’t believe you at first,”

Yeah, they both already knew that. Her parents had been eagle eyed, intensely analyzing every interaction the two of them had in the weeks leading up to their move. 

“But then we saw you two together. Yes, you were very familiar, and we know that Steve came and slept in your room after you two thought we were asleep, but it was clear there was no romance between you two at all. Not exactly like brother and sister, but not boyfriend and girlfriend. that much was obvious. Which got me wondering...why exactly the two of you would move together. If it wasn’t love, what was it?”

It was love. It was the purest love Robin had ever felt for a person. It was the kind of love she could never explain. The only people who understood were the ones who had also felt it. 

“I talked with his mother, and she said, well, let’s just say she had a few choice words about her son,” Robins’ mother said, making Steve take a sharp breath in. The subject of his parents was still an extremely sore wound.

No, not really his parents. His mother. Steve didn’t care so much about losing his father, that was an inevitability whether he came out or not. He was just too different, too far away from what his dad expected him to become. Steve was honestly kind of happy when his father had kicked him out after they found out he was gay.

But that was his father. Steve had admitted to Robin late one night that having his mother turn her back on him was something he didn’t think he was ever going to fully recover from. Robin didn’t really understand it. Steve’s mother had never been anything but a cold hearted bitch in the few stilted conversations Robin had unfortunately had to have with her, and she knew for a fact that the woman had never treated Steve much better.

But he still missed her. He still wished that she could have loved him enough to try instead of just throwing him away. Robin supposed it was probably different when it was your own mom who hated you for something you had never asked for. 

And apparently, she never needed to worry about that. 

“The things that Lydia Harrington said told me everything I needed to know about why that boy needed you. That vile woman, the fact that she is the head of our ladies auxiliary is a travesty, and I've already appealed to the board twice and- well, that doesn't matter. What matters is that it also got me to thinkin' about why you seemed to need Steve just as much as he needs you.”

Her mom trailed off with a sigh They were approaching the edge again, staring out over the canyon, both wondering if their wings were strong enough yet to take that leap. 

“....Do you have something you want to tell me?” Olivia asked her daughter, offering to give her the push she needed to fly. 

Robin had a hundred thousand things to tell her mother. She wanted to tell her about the clubs she went to dance in at night, and the girl who sat in front of her in the orchestra at Juilliard. Robin wanted to tell her about how much it meant to Steve that her parents had insisted he had to come home with her for Christmas, and the way he had stayed up late all month trying to finish the gifts he was making for them. She wanted to tell her mom about Tammy Thompson, hear her laugh as Steve and Robin impersonated the girl's truly terrible singing. 

She wanted to tell her mom she was gay. 

But…

“Not now,” Robin decided. She wanted to do all of that, but she wanted to do it when she could see her mother’s face, when she could feel her father’s big warm hugs, “When I come home for the holidays,” 

“Alright,” Olivia agreed, her voice soft and dripping with honey, “When you come home- when you both come home- you’ll tell me what you need to tell me.”

There was a beat, and then her mom spoke again. This time her voice was thick with emotion, and the words came out heavy. 

“And I will tell you that I love you. I have loved you from the moment I knew you were in my belly, and I have loved you every single second after. Through every argument, every tantrum, every time you slammed the door in my face and told me I was trying to ruin your life,” They both huffed out a soft laugh at this.

Robin had really had a flair for drama when she was younger. Still did. 

“I have loved you the entire time, and I will continue to love you until my last breath.”

“Mom,” Robin started, about to start the cycle all over again, but her mother interrupted her. 

“You,” Olivia said with as much conviction as she could possibly have, “are the greatest gift of my life, Robin. My greatest joy. And I hope that you know that you can tell me whatever you need to, whenever you need to. I’d bury a body for you, little girl, but don’t you dare make me!” 

She and Steve both broke out into giggles at this. The air was starting to come back into the room, warm and sweet. 

“Your father feels the same way, just so you know,” Her mom added, just in case Robin hadn’t already caught that from everything else said, “Nothing could change how we feel for you,” 

“Okay,” Robin whispered. 

“You’re not alone right now, right?” Her mom asked, the normal touch of worry coloring her tone. 

“No, um- Steve is sitting right next to me,” Robin admitted, hoping her mom would be okay with knowing that he had heard all of that. 

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve called, his voice betraying the fact that he had also been taken down by her heartfelt confession. 

“Hi Angelboy!” Her mother sang, using the silly nickname she had assigned him when he had done the dishes one night after a family dinner. Olivia had been complaining that no one in the house ever helped her, and while she was ranting, Steve had snuck into the kitchen and finished all the dishes. She had bustled into the kitchen, found that there was no more work to be done, and declared that he was ‘her angel boy’, and she was stealing him from Robin. 

“Make sure he knows the same thing goes for him- nothing changes that he’s a part of this family now,” She stated firmly. 

“He knows,” Robin reassured her, knowing her mother would get in a car and drive all the way to New York just to come and beat it into their heads if she detected even a hint of doubt. 

Robin rubbed at her face and took a deep calming breath, exhaustion starting to come over her in a haze. After that much emotion, the only thing she could want was her bed. 

Well that, a stiff drink, and her best friend letting her leech his body heat all night long. As if sensing what was going on, Robin’s mother gave a loud exaggerated yawn. 

“Alright, love. It’s getting pretty late, and I know you two were studying, so I’m going to let you go now, okay?” Her mother said. 

“Okay,” Robin said, suppressing her own real yawn. 

“Remember our rule though. I call on Thursdays at 7:30, and you?” 

“Answer the phone,” Robin replied. This was routine, easy, normal. This was how they ended every phone call, with Olivia reminding Robin, as though her daughter had somehow forgotten in the last seven days. 

Usually it annoyed her. Tonight she loved it. 

“That’s right,” She said. Robin could just see her nodding her head as if she had just won a great battle. 

“I love you, little bird,” Her mother cooed, and Robin smiled. 

“I love you too mom,” 

The words came easy. For years and years it had been so hard. Hard to say it back, hard to mean it when she had been so sure that it wouldn't be true for much longer. But now, Robin could tell her mother that she loved her as much as possible, and she was going to. 

[withacapitalp]

She’s still here.

It’s been seven days since she showed up. Or, at least, it’s been seven days since Steve noticed her. If she died the night of his party, the way Nancy said she did, then it’s been ten days. 

He can still remember the first one. His grandfather. Steve was six when Grandpa Joe died. A freak heart attack when he was in the middle of brushing his teeth. Steve had been forced to go to a strange room filled with people wearing black who were talking in soft hushed tones and crying. 

His dad said that his Grandpa was in heaven, a far away place he could never come back from. No one listened when Steve attempted to tell them that Grandpa Joe was right there. 

Steve kept trying, explaining that his grandfather wasn’t in that box. He was sitting next to Grandma Annie, brushing his hand through her hair while she sobbed into her hands. He even waved to Steve, and he was speaking, but Steve couldn’t hear him. 

Grandpa Joe had faded at the funeral. One minute he was sitting next to Steve, trying to say something, and the next he was gone. Steve’s dad had been forced to carry him out of the church when his son had started screaming about not being able to hear. 

After that, he stopped telling people when he saw the ghosts. He acted like they didn’t even exist. 

In the end, it didn’t really matter that he could see them. They only ever lasted for a few days after dying anyway. The longest he had ever seen was five. There was no point in interacting when there was only one way things could end. Eventually the spirit burned through whatever energy was still keeping them tethered and they would fade away. 

At least, that’s what he always said to himself. 

But she’s been sitting by his pool for seven days. Maybe ten. And she didn’t show any signs of fading. She just sat there on the diving board all day and all night, staring down at the water and dragging the toe of her sneaker along the surface. 

It was like she was a skipping record, repeating the same five seconds over and over. 

Steve usually tried to ignore them, he had a rule about speaking to the ghosts. They weren’t supposed to be here anymore, and talking to them only delayed the inevitable. 

But if she was staying this long, then she needed something, and Steve felt like he owed it to Nancy to at least try and help. 

So for the first time since his grandfather, Steve approached a spirit and called their name. 

“Barb?” 

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock pt 14

Part One Part Thirteen Link to Ao3 Part Fifteen

Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for always being the world's best cheerleader/support!!! Also everyone @angstflayer-council for motivating me to finish this chapter. I hope you guys like it!! ALSO I FORGOT TAG LISTS FOR PART THIRTEEN SORRY YALL I FIXED IT THIS TIME

Step Fourteen: Ask for a Second Opinion

Eddie and Wayne had a routine for gig nights. 

First Wayne would get home from his shift and go about his normal business. Shucking off work clothes, grabbing a quick cold shower, fixing himself a sandwich with whatever leftovers they had in the fridge- the same thing he did every night when he came back from the plant. Then, when all that was taken care of, he would turn on the radio to listen to the news, grab a beer from the fridge, and pull out the most important thing in their trailer. 

The waffle iron. 

It was an ancient thing, a giant heavy slab of metal that had been passed down from Great Granny Munson herself. Eddie was ninety nine percent sure it would outlive him too, but that was just a fact of Munson life. The cord for the waffle iron was frayed in about half a dozen places, and it smoked if it was powered on for longer than an hour at a time, but there was no denying that the beat up old thing made the best damn waffles Eddie had ever had. 

If Eddie had it his way, they would eat waffles every single day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They were his all time favorite food and when he had first moved in with Wayne they were all he would eat. Eventually the two of them had come to a compromise- Eddie could have waffles on Sundays, birthdays, holidays, and any day he brought home a test with a grade that had a B or higher. 

And gig nights. 

Of course, that addition had come later. Wayne hadn’t allowed him to play at the Hideout until he was legally an adult. It came from a good place (It was just one of the many many ways Wayne had tried to keep Eddie from becoming his father.) but it was still annoying being forced to wait that long. 

The waffles kind of made it worth the wait though. 

The next part of the routine was Eddie. Eddie would come home egregiously late, and they would eat together. As they ate through ridiculously high stacks of delicious syrupy goodness, Eddie would tell Wayne everything that had happened.

Nothing was off the table. Eddie would tell Wayne about whatever drugs he took, if he drank, if he dealt, whatever his uncle asked about. By now he had learned that Wayne was just looking out for him. And as long as he was honest, Wayne would let him keep doing what he was doing. He just wanted to be in the loop, and that was a small thing to ask. 

This was the first gig night that Eddie was home before Wayne. 

“I didn’t know how to make the batter,” Eddie said as soon as Wayne opened the door, causing the man to jump out of his skin from being started. Eddie gave his uncle a nervous little grin from where he was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers against his thighs in incomprehensible patterns. 

“And I was also worried about turning on the waffle iron. Figured you wouldn’t wanna come home to a burnt down trailer and a pile of bones instead of your beloved beloved nephew,” Eddie joked, trying to cut through the tension that had been surrounding him since he came home two hours ago. 

The anxiety fueled energy running through his veins was making it impossible to sit still, impossible to make eye contact as Wayne stared at him with a raised brow. 

“What’d you do?” Wayne asked as he hung up his hat with a put upon sigh. 

“Nothing! Geez Wayne, have a little faith,” Eddie complained, tossing his head back and giving an exaggerated groan. This was easy. Playing a game and making a show of things was something Eddie could do in his sleep, and it was so much more simple than the alternative. He even looked Wayne directly in the eye, just to really sell it. 

“You just think I’m a good for nothin’ troublemaker, don’t you? Spill it, old man, I already know the answer! I am distraught that even my own flesh and blood thinks I’m only capable of tomfoolery.”

Wayne grunted, crossing his arms and giving Eddie one long slow look, peeling back all the layers, lowering all the walls. 

“What’d you do?” Wayne repeated, his tone short and to the point. 

Eddie wilted like a flower. His shoulders hunched inward, and his gaze shot straight to the floor. He dragged one of his socked toes across the carpet in the living room, avoiding his uncle’s piercing gaze. 

“Nothin’” Eddie mumbled, “we just got cut short, that’s all.”

That wasn’t even scratching the surface, but they both knew that. There was no way Wayne was going to leave it at that. 

Sure enough, his uncle just hummed, walking into their small kitchenette and pulling open the fridge.

“Y’all ended early ‘cause of the power outage?” Wayne asked, rhetorically, already knowing the answer. 

Eddie stood up from the couch, coming over to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, nodding glumly as he let his head fall in his palm, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Wayne asked, passing Eddie a beer as he took a sip from his own and grabbed the eggs. 

“I’m annoyed that our show ended early?” Eddie said, hating that it came out as a question. 

It wasn’t a question, he was annoyed about that. The power outage just wasn’t the thing that was bothering him. 

“And?” Wayne pressed, carefully unwrapping the cord of the waffle iron and gingerly plugging it into the socket. The red light on the front lit up, promising delicious fresh waffles in just minutes.

“And I messed up this super easy riff which pissed me off,” Eddie added, his stomach clenching up as he continued to avoid the actual problem. 

The issue was, he was probably one of the worst liars in the world, and Wayne could smell bullshit a mile off. 

“Eddie, you know our rule,” Wayne said, sounding like the epitome of patience as he whisked batter, his back still turned to his nephew. 

“…Always be honest,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he was forced to recite the single rule Wayne actually had for him. 

Eddie could run as wild as he had to, do whatever it took to get through being a boy like him living in a town like Hawkins, but there couldn’t be secrets between them. Wayne couldn’t protect him if he didn’t know what Eddie was dealing with, and Eddie couldn’t trust that Wayne would always support him if he didn’t give him the chance. 

Normally repeating those words was a comfort, a cathartic tradition that settled Eddie’s soul. No matter what he told Wayne, he would still love him, still support him. Nothing Eddie could do would make his uncle abandon him. 

Today it just felt…invasive. 

“If you can’t talk ‘bout it yet, you can say that,” Wayne reminded him, looking over his shoulder for a second so Eddie could meet his eyes for the first time that night, “just don’t pretend like nothin’s there.” 

It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t want to talk about it. He was actually pretty desperate to, but he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t intentionally forgotten to tell Wayne about Steve, but he hadn’t come up at all in the last six weeks, and with everything that happened earlier, there was no easy avenue to explain. 

“And I’m worried about my friend,” Eddie admitted quietly, starting with the only thing he was absolutely sure of. 

He was worried about Steve. Really, really, worried.  

“Which friend?” Wayne grunted, pouring out the batter for the first waffle with a satisfying hiss of the iron, “Gareth? Or Jeff?” 

“Steve,” Eddie replied, taking a sip of his drink before he clarified, “Steve Harrington.” 

“Richard’s boy?” Wayne wondered, doing nothing to hide his shock at a Harrington mixing with a Munson. 

“Yeah, but he’s nothing like how you’d expect!” Eddie said quickly, rambling away his anxiety as he drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I mean I thought he was for a while, but he’s actually really cool and sweet and thoughtful and funny and stuff. Like he brought us cookies today before the gig, and he babysits all these weird little nerdy kids too! There’s this whole-“

“Eddie, breathe,” Wayne chuckled, giving his nephew a fond eye roll as he put down a plate in front of him. An absolutely ginormous waffle stared back up at Eddie, already glistening with butter and maple syrup. 

It was perfect. Glorious. Eddie’s stomach was growling. 

“Why are you worried about ‘im? Did somethin’ happen tonight?” Wayne asked, turning back to the iron and starting on his own waffle. 

Eddie launched into his story as he dug into his treat. He started straight from the beginning, right from the first time Steve had accidentally sat at their lunch table all the way to tonight and the panic attack in the middle of the parking lot. He even admitted to the tiny crush that he had once had that was burning a hole in the back of his mind every time Steve smiled at him. 

But there was one big glaring hole in the middle. 

Eddie didn’t say a word about the bet. 

He tried to. He really honestly did. But every time Eddie got close to it, he started to think about the disappointed look Wayne was going to give him, and the deep sigh that was coming with it. Wayne never yelled, never insulted him, but there were times Eddie would have honestly preferred if he did. 

Anger would be so much better than the deep shame that always came with knowing that he had done something Wayne would disapprove of. And this was definitely something Wayne would disapprove of.  

“Then he just left with them, Wayne!” Eddie exploded, finally at the end of the surprisingly long story. Both waffles had already been consumed, the dishes were in the sink to soak, and the two of them were sitting on their beat up old couch, with Eddie’s head resting against Wayne’s shoulder. “Steve got in the car and drove off. With his ex-girlfriend. And the guy she cheated on him with!” 

“Sounds like you’re more upset about that part then he is,” Wayne said, the smile in his tone evident. “Is that what’s actually botherin’ you about all of this?”

“Wayne,” Eddie snapped, cutting off his uncle’s teasing before he could even start. He pulled away, sitting up and waiting until his uncle met his eye before continuing, “this is serious. There’s something wrong. Really wrong. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to help him if he can’t even tell me about it.”  

Because that’s what Steve had said. Not that he didn’t want to tell Eddie. That he couldn’t tell Eddie.

That Eddie wouldn’t have even believed him if he could.  

Which was insane, because Eddie was pretty sure Steve could say that he had seen the second coming of Christ, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could tell him that aliens existed, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could even spout off about characters from Dungeons and Dragons coming to life and dragging him on a quest and- 

Well, Eddie wasn’t sure he would totally believe that, but he would definitely listen at the very least! 

Steve wasn’t even giving him a chance to prove him wrong. He was just locking this all inside, holding it and bottling it and expecting it to go away when it wouldn’t. Eddie had been there, and he knew that trying to force something down only made it come up even worse later on. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said with a sigh, instantly putting his nephew on edge. It was a sigh Eddie knew well- the one Wayne gave when he wanted to tell him something that he knew that Eddie wasn’t going to want to hear. 

“You can’t help him if he ain’t ready to be helped.” 

Wayne’s hesitation there was right. Eddie definitely didn’t want to hear that. 

“That is such bullshit-“ 

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, cutting Eddie’s rant off before it could even really start with just one word. 

Eddie’s jaw shut with a snap, and he dragged a sharp breath in, looking at Wayne with wide eyes, trying to silently convey exactly why he was wrong. 

His uncle’s tough exterior melted away, and a gentle sympathy took over. If it was anyone else, Eddie would have bristled, gotten angry, pushed them away. On anyone else, that look would be 

pity. 

With Wayne, it was just kindness.

“Is it just the fact that you have feelings for this boy that’s makin’ you so damn persistent?” Wayne asked in a soft tone. 

Eddie instantly reared back, a surprised laugh bursting out of him. 

“No, Wayne I used to have a crush on him,” Eddie stressed, trying to make Wayne understand. “Back when we were younger. Years ago! It’s gone now.” 

“Eds,” Wayne said in a no-nonsense tone, “be serious.” 

“I am,” Eddie retorted, a heavy blush staining his cheeks as his heart hammered in his chest. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore. I don’t. I can care about my friends without it being a gay thing, so just drop it!” 

“Eddie, I’ll drop it if you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t have any feelings for that boy,” Wayne challenged, keeping his cool as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the cushions, waiting. 

“Well that’s stupid, Wayne. Of course I have feelings for him,” Eddie sneered. He got up and began to pace, unable to hold it all in anymore as he continued to rant. 

“I care about him like I care about all my friends. It’s not like he’s nothing to me, but he’s just a friend, that’s all. I just think that it’s really cool that he was brave enough to join our group, and it’s sweet that he’s trying so hard. He isn’t half-assing it, and he doesn’t half-ass anything! Steve puts his whole self into everything he does and everyone he cares about, and caring that much is such an easy way to get hurt, but it’s like he’s not even worried! I mean, you should see the way he is with the kids! We’re just friends, that’s all, and that’s fine. I don’t need it to be anything more. I don’t want it to be anything more. Look we have a few stupid inside jokes, and some moments, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I love him, I just-“

Eddie cut himself off, taking a sharp shaking breath in as the reality of it all came crashing down on his head. He took a stumbling step backward, trying to breathe as he staggered back to the couch and fell down into his seat. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, burying his face in his hands, the lump in his throat constricting his breath as his eyes burned. “Fuck.”

A warm hand fell between his shoulder blades, and Eddie blindly tipped on his side, letting Wayne’s arm curl around him as he burrowed into his uncle’s side. 

“It’s alright,” Wayne murmured, rubbing his thumb against the side of Eddie’s head as his nephew tried to catch his breath. “It’s not wrong for you to feel the way you do. It’s not somethin’ you can control. It’s not a bad thing.”  

“I know,” Eddie croaked out, hating the way he kind of didn’t believe the words. 

This wasn’t his first crush, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Eddie had always known who he was, and he had never pretended to be anything else. He wasn’t ashamed, but he couldn’t help the fear that still lived inside. 

That fear… it was terrifying, and painful. He hated being scared of himself, but he still was. Eddie was scared of the way people would look at him, scared of the way the world would treat him if they knew for a fact instead of just assuming. Scared of the way things would change. 

Scared of the way Steve would probably hate him if he ever figured it out. 

Steve. That’s what this was all about. It wasn’t about how Eddie felt. Tonight was about Steve, and how worried Eddie was for him. 

“Okay but even if I am attracted to him, that’s not why I want to help him,” Eddie said, carefully pulling away from Wayne’s grip and rubbing at his dry cheeks. No tears had ever come, but Eddie did it anyway, just to be sure. 

“Then why?” Wayne asked, genuinely curious. 

Why? 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” 

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook. He was scratching out another tik-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page. 

“People aren’t just nice,” The boy insisted, giving Eddie a guarded look. “They always want something.” 

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and offering the pen to the other boy. “Is that enough?” 

They stared at each other for a long second, until the other boy’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 

“You’re really weird,” He said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 

Eddie needed to hear it again.

“He needed me,” Eddie said softly, lost somewhere in between now and the memory. “Still does. I think.” 

Did Steve need him? Eddie wasn’t sure. All he knew was Steve needed someone and Eddie was the one who knew it. 

“Then be there for him,” Wayne suggested, patting Eddie twice on the back as he stood and walked over to his bed, beginning to pull it out, “You don’t need to know why he needs help to support. Sometimes all someone needs is someone to be there.”

“You’re right,” Eddie replied, sensing the end of the conversation coming. Exhaustion was tugging on his eyelids, and Wayne was beginning to yawn,. “I just wish I could do more.”

“I think you’re doin’ more than you realize,” Wayne offered, settling on the side of his bed and stretching. 

“Thanks Wayne,” Eddie sighed, turning and heading towards his room. 

“Is there anything else on your mind?” Wayne said from behind, stopping Eddie in his tracks. “Feels like you might’ve left something out.” 

Eddie paused, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. He knew that if Wayne could see his face, he would’ve been done for, but just with his back, there wasn’t enough to prove he was right. 

Briefly, Eddie wondered if Wayne was a psychic, or had some sort of power to know when Eddie was keeping a secret. It felt like there was a big yellow sign above his head, shouting that he needed his uncle to help him before it was too late. 

I think I’m doing the wrong thing, Eddie thought, desperately working his throat, trying to force the words out, I think I’m doing something mean, and it’s going to end up hurting Steve. Badly. I’m doing the wrong thing, and I don’t know how to stop it before he gets hurt.

“No,” Eddie whispered, hating himself for the lie, “there’s nothing else.” 

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[withacapitalp]

Seventh

Read it on ao3 here!

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Steve asked, sliding the glass door shut and cutting off the noise from the rest of the party inside. 

Erica stubbornly shook her head, crossing her arms and continuing to stare out into the wide open space of Steve’s backyard. Her jaw was clenched up so tight it hurt, and the concrete was cold against her legs. But she couldn’t move or go inside, because then she would have to face all the people she had just screamed at. 

Steve sighed softly behind her, a familiar sound that Erica was almost immune to hearing. Almost. It still kind of hurt to hear that disappointment sent her way. Normally he was just mad at the boys or annoyed by whatever bullshit Max wanted to pull that day. 

Today he was mad at Erica. Which was fair, seeing as she had just made a big fucking scene at his house. 

“What happened?” Steve asked softly, lowering himself down onto the ground and sitting cross legged on her left side. His tone was gentle, coaxing, like Erica was a child with a fever who needed to take medicine, and not a young adult who was completely overreacting. 

Not mad then. Worried. 

Even worse. 

Erica would have honestly preferred Steve was mad, because then they could both just blow off steam, and she wouldn’t be forced to explain the completely embarrassing reason she had just had an outburst. 

“They kept saying I was Seven,” She grumbled, hating Steve for being so fucking easy to talk to and making her open up. Steve didn’t immediately respond the way the rest of them would have, and when Erica glanced over, she saw he was deep in thought, trying to work out exactly why that might have upset her. 

That’s why they all liked talking to him. Steve always considered what was going on before making a snap decision. 

“It was just teasing. You never let that get to you. Besides we all know you’re twelve, Erica, not seven,” Steve finally said, clearly not understanding what exactly had set her off. 

He hadn’t heard the whole conversation. 

“They weren’t saying I was seven years old. They were saying I’m seven.” Erica paused here, hoping she wouldn’t have to say anything else. But, when it was clear it still hadn’t clicked, she gave a short irritated sigh and continued, “As in the seventh. Your seventh kid,” 

“Okay? Did you not like that they were saying that you were my kid? Cause I know we joke about me being mom a lot, but I know that you guys have actual-“

“No,” Erica cut him off, not even wanting Steve to start down that particular train. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and gathering up the courage to say what she actually needed to say.

“You wanted six. I’m the seventh.” Erica stated. 

An uncomfortable and heavy silence stood in the air between them as Steve registered what had been said and put the dots together. Erica waited, staring at the trees and willing herself to stay where she was. It would be easier to just get up and bolt, but no doubt Steve would chase her down and make her listen to whatever mushy thing he was going to say. 

“I’m gonna kill past me,” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, “Okay, first of all, that was something I said to Nancy in confidence, assuming there wasn’t eavesdropping,” 

“Stupid thing to assume. It’s us,” Erica replied, needing to put some of her armor back on. This was already too raw for comfort. 

“Second of all,” Steve pressed, ignoring her little interlude, “That daydream I had was for three boys and three girls. As far as I know I have three girls, so one of the boys is the extra. Let’s say Mike. Mike can be seventh,”

A giggle slipped out of her mouth without permission, and Erica pressed a hand against her mouth to hide her smile. Mike would be the one Steve would pick to be seventh in a lineup, just because they all knew how much it would irritate his stupid inflated ego.  

“Third of all,” Steve started, trailing off. His voice was soft again, low and sweet.

It was the same voice he had when he spoke to her in the hospital after the gates closed, when she had been sitting alone in the emergency room waiting for someone to show up. Steve had taken both of Erica’s hands in his own, neither of them fully able to ignore the blood sticking to their palms, and he told her everything was going to be okay. 

And everything was okay now. She was the one having a problem that wasn’t actually a problem in the first place. 

“Erica, I had that daydream when I was your age. My parents had just started leaving, going on business trips for days or weeks sometime. And I, well,  I was lonely,” Steve admitted. Now it was his turn to stare at the trees, a muted but deeply set pain sitting in every word. 

“I told myself when I got older that I wasn’t going to do that. I came up with this whole fantasy where things were going to get better, so I could focus on that instead of how shitty things were then”

Erica wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get her mouth to open. She could see a young Steve sitting right where they were now, on the concrete by the pool. That Steve didn’t have someone to come out and check on him, someone to reassure him that he was loved and cared for. 

He had just had to deal with it all alone, and dream that maybe life had something better in store for him somewhere down the line. 

“So, if you think about it logically, that twelve year old kid who only ever wanted a big family who loved him just as he was got exactly what he was looking for,” Steve said, scooting a bit closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Erica went easily, letting herself get wrapped up in a warm hug. Steve hugs, the best kind, cure for any and all problems. She would never say that out loud to him, she’d die of embarrassment, but thinking it was enough to make her bury her face against his chest.

“And getting to have a seventh kid that was his- a really special, really funny, kinda a smartass, but genuinely good, kid,” Steve said after a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could make sure she was looking him in the eye, “Well I think that twelve year old would know how crazy fucking lucky he was to get to love that seventh kid,”

A blooming warmth settled in Erica’s chest, slowly overtaking her body until she felt like she might be glowing. She knew that Steve loved her. That was obvious. Steve loved all of them. But knowing it and hearing it were two different things. 

“Wow…..that’s a lot of nice things to say about Mike,” She said, falling back into herself and leaving the safe little cocoon they had created. She didn’t need it anymore, she had her reassurances. 

“Mike?” Steve asked, not putting things together. Erica huffed out a soft laugh, grinning like the cheshire cat as she stood up and stretched. 

“Yeah, Mike,” Erica replied, “Seeing as, according to you, the seventh is Mike, not me.” 

A beat of silence, and then Steve was throwing himself backwards, falling flat on his back as he tossed his hands into the air

“Why do I even bother with you brats?” He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Because you love us,” Erica shot back, still all warm and wanting to just get to hear it again, “I’m gonna go inside now, tell him you said all that nice stuff about him,” 

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve said in a warning tone. Erica hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels for a second before shrugging. 

“No, I’m gonna. Bye Steve!” 

He was up in the blink of an eye, taking her bait and falling hook, line, and sinker. Erica ran farther into the yard, laughing with glee as he chased her around and around. 

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 2

Follow up to this thing I wrote yesterday

People always acted funny when they saw his timer. They usually reacted in two ways- either they tried to pretend that they didn’t see it, or they said how sorry they were. 

That’s not enough time. 

Oh I wish you had more time. 

Only a few days? I’m sorry honey. 

But Steve had never been upset about it. Sure, he only had less than a week with his soulmate, but that only meant that their time was more treasured. They understood that they had to make every second count. 

Wasn’t that a good thing? 

“You’ll understand someday, Steven,” His mother had said quietly into her wine glass one night when it was just the two of them at home. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through their photo album idly, holding Steve hostage with stories about how good things used to be. How in love his parents were, once upon a time. How happy they used to be before the job, before the promotion, before the big house in Loch Nora. 

(They really mean before they had him. Not that either of his parents will ever admit that) 

“You’ll understand,” She repeated in a whisper, taking another long sip. 

“What will I understand?” Steve replied. Usually he tried to stay as still and silent as possible on nights like these, did his best to pretend like he didn’t exist, waiting for her to finally wave a hand and release him to his room. But this time he didn’t get it. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” She spat out, holding up her right arm and showing him her timer. All zeroes. His mother’s soulmate had died when he was ten, but her timer had counted down. She had met him at some point in her life though. She knew him, but she hadn’t lived a life with him. Whoever he was, he had died alone.  

Steve had always wondered about that, always wanted to ask. If she knew who her soulmate was, why not be with them? If she had found that person, why not make every second count? 

“It’s a curse,” His mother had said, continuing when Steve didn’t say anything in response, finishing what was left in her glass, “Especially yours. I remember the first time I saw your timer. It was right after you were born. I was holding you against me, you were so little then, so sweet, and I looked down, and I saw it. Five days. What kind of God would only give my baby five days? Not a good one,”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure what kind of God was out there. If he was being fully honest, he wasn’t sure he believed in God at all. 

He believed….in the universe. He believed in something linking them all, something that knew them and wanted them to find the person that completed their lives. The Universe knew that Steve and his soulmate were strong enough to handle five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. That unnamed unexplained universe knew that they would know what to do with that time. 

Steve had plans for his five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. 

When he found that person, the first thing he was going to do was hold them for at least five of those minutes. Steve loved hugs, and his parents hated them, but his soulmate would love them too. He knew that for sure. 

So a five minute hug, and then he’d ask where they wanted to go. The two of them would travel to wherever his soulmate wanted. Steve had the money, he’d been saving every single birthday and Christmas check he had gotten since he was nine. By now, it was more than enough for two tickets to anywhere in the world. 

They would spend the whole plane ride talking and getting to know each other. They would laugh, probably a little too loudly, and annoy everyone else around them with how infatuated they were with each other. 

Maybe they’d go to Paris. Stroll through the city, eat pastries, stuff like that. Maybe they would end up in some remote part of the world where it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.

Maybe they’d just stay in Hawkins. Hole up in his house, listen to records, swim in the pool, or lie in bed all day. 

A hug, possibly a trip, and after that it was up to his soulmate. Steve wasn’t going to monopolize their five days with just his ideas. He had a bunch of suggestions if they didn’t know what they wanted, but those were the only two things he really cared about. 

He didn’t hug his soulmate when they finally laid eyes on each other. Steve didn’t even realize his timer had started counting down. 

He was too busy thinking about the broken bottle being held against his neck. 

By the time he and Eddie both realized that their timers had started, they were already in the thick of things. Steve had seen it while Nancy was wrapping her sweater around his waist to try and stem some of the blood coming gushing out of him from the bat bites. He had put both hands in his hair just to try and give himself some other pain to ground with, and his timer caught his eye. 

It was already on three days. 

He had only met one new person in the last two days. One new person who always hid his timer under a leather cuff around his wrist. 

Steve did go through with his plans, but it was a funhouse mirror version of them, twisted and wrong. 

They did hug, but it wasn’t something soft or intimate. Eddie had woken Steve up from a nightmare on their second to last day, and Steve had laid in his arms shaking for two of their final forty eight hours. 

They did go on a trip of sorts, if stopping the apocalypse in an alternate dimension counted as a trip. They went, but they didn’t stay together. 

God, if Steve had a chance to do it all over again, he never would have let Eddie out of his sight. 

There was no avoiding fate, no changing what The Universe had planned. Steve has always been aware of that. He’s known that as fact his entire life. But still. Maybe things would have gone the way they were supposed to if they had been together. 

Because it was supposed to be him that died. 

His entire life he had known it was going to be him. 

Steve has imagined it a thousand different ways. A random heart attack, or a freak accident, maybe even saving his soulmate’s life somehow. He had never even thought to consider it might be his soulmate saving him instead. 

It was perfect. Dustin and Eddie would be far away from the danger, and Robin and Nancy were going to be just fine. Steve had no idea when it was coming, but it was going to happen in this final fight. They would win and he would have to do something stupid to make sure they did. Something off plan that would end up killing him. 

Except, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t in the plan. 

It went off without a hitch. Well, there was a pretty scary moment where there had been vines around his neck choking him, but the rest had gone exactly as they wanted it too. He and Robin had torched the monster, and then Nancy shot him in the head. 

Vecna was dead, burning to ash on the floor in front of them. They did it. They actually fucking did it. 

The elation of that was unlike anything Steve had ever experienced. The bone deep relief of knowing everyone he loved was finally safe, that this was finally over. That he had somehow lived to get to see it all. 

He had lived. 

He…..he was still alive. 

Steve hadn’t even thought to look down at his timer. He had been so busy just reacting, being in the moment of the fight. The fight was over. They had won. Everyone was safe now. 

Steve was still alive. 

He looked at his timer. All zeroes. 

How long had it been all zeroes? 

Steve took an experimental breath, and then another. Still breathing. Still alive. He looked down at his wrist. Still all zeroes. It was like he was looking at a puzzle with only one piece left, holding that last piece in his hand, but unable to make it fit for some reason. There was just something that was so wrong. 

There were two options when it came to Timers. You died, and your timer vanished, or your timer hit zero, and your soulmate died. There were two options. 

Steve had just never considered the other one. 

And by the time he ran out of the Creel House, it was already too late. Steve knew that. He was running anyway. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Eddie for himself. His mother’s voice filled his ears the entire time. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” 

Steve had promised himself he would never think about his timer that way. Promised that he would never be like his mother. 

But she might have been right about this. 

[withacapitalp]

Countdown

Soulmate AU where you have a timer on your wrist that begins to count down when you first meet your soulmate's eyes. However much time is on that timer is how much time you get to have with that person before one of you dies. Read it on ao3 instead

Now with Part Two!

There’s three minutes left on their timers.

One hundred and eighty seconds that are slipping by faster than Eddie can count them. One hundred and eighty seconds before one of them is gone forever. 

And Eddie gets to make the choice. 

It’s like he can see it laid out plain in front of him. If he climbs the rope, then it’s Steve. Those vines would choke the life out of him, or he blocks a shot meant for Robin, or he makes the sacrificial play, because that’s who Steve appears to have become.

Eddie doesn’t know for sure. The ironically cruel universe they live in only gave them five days and four hours to know each other. He's been preparing his entire life for it, knowing he wouldn’t even get a week, promising himself he would be the one that lived. 

Five days and four hours. That’s not nearly long enough to know a person. That’s not nearly long enough to love a person. They’re practically strangers still. Eddie isn’t going to die so a stranger can live. 

If he climbs that rope, then a stranger dies. 

His soulmate dies. 

Steve dies. 

But if he doesn’t… Steve made Eddie promise to not do ‘anything cute’. He had given him a slow sad smile, and hugged Dustin tightly. They had both kind of expected it to be him, if they were being really honest. Steve seemed like the kind of guy to lay it all on the line, Eddie had even said that he wasn’t a hero. 

He still isn’t. His hands are shaking, and he’s utterly fucking terrified. But there are only one hundred and nineteen more seconds left on their timers, and he refuses to let those be the last one hundred and nineteen seconds of Steve’s life. Eddie can’t bear the thought of watching them all grieve, of having to go on for however many years with that empty timer on his wrist forever showing that he had let himself run again.

He has a choice to climb that rope. He has the choice to leave that stranger to die.

But in the end it isn’t really even a choice.

[withacapitalp]

Joyce had never been more tired than she was at this moment. It was in every one of her bones, stuck deep into her soul, and it felt like it would never go away now. She wanted to wrap herself up in a dozen blankets and never resurface, become a female Rip Van Winkle. Maybe slip into her bed and cry for a little while over Bob. Sweet, kind, gentle Bob, who would still be alive if he had never gotten mixed up with her.  

But she couldn’t fall apart over that just yet. There was still one more kid she needed to take care of tonight. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Joyce said softly, squatting next to where the boy was slumped down on her couch. The kids were all clustered up around him, fast asleep. They had been like this when she and her sons had returned, and Will had quickly found his place in their pile, tightly pushed next to Mike and El and falling asleep in an instant. Only one was left awake. 

“Hi Mrs. Byers,” Steve murmured back, barely opening his eyes. Dustin snuffled impossibly closer as Steve shifted to somewhat sit up, curling up against his ribs and sighing. Steve idly played with the younger boy’s hair, clearly completely out of it. She had no idea where he had gotten all of these injuries, but it was too late to ask about that now. Steve blinked slowly at her and sighed

“‘M sorry. Fell sleep. Meant t’stay up,”

“That’s fine,” She cooed, pushing any exhaustion lingering in her bones back. Will was taken care of, Jonathan was in his own bed with Nancy, but there was still a child in front of her that needed her. She could focus on him, and not on the grief that was waiting patiently at the back of her mind. She needed to focus on taking care of Steve. Just for now. 

Joyce carefully reached up and slowly pushed Steve’s hair away from his face, minding where his injuries were. Steve melted into her touch, letting out a soft shaking sigh as the tension leaked out of him like air out of a balloon. 

“What hurts?” Joyce whispered, holding his chin in one hand as she put the tiniest bit of pressure against the injury along his hair line. Steve winced anyway, but didn’t pull away from her touch. 

“My face. My ribs. Everything, kinda,” Steve shrugged. 

“That looks like a pretty nasty cut,” She agreed, keeping her tone light even as her concern continued to mount, “Can you come with me and let me clean you up a bit? Maybe put on some pajamas or something?”

Steve finally pulled away at that, forcing himself to sit up and roughly rubbing his palms against his eyes. Joyce wanted to grab his hands to keep them away from his already injured face, cringing at the harsh way he pushed against the bruises marking his cheeks. 

“Oh no it’s okay. I’m gonna go home I think. I just wanted to wait till you and Hop got back,” Steve mumbled, practically rambling as he tried and failed to force his body to stand. 

“Okay, okay,” Joyce said, doing her best to soothe him into lying back on the couch. There was zero way she was allowing this boy to go home and lick his wounds in isolation, but she needed to phrase it in a way that would make Steve not fight her. Joyce couldn’t handle that tonight.

Then it came to her all at once. 

“Can you do something for me?” Joyce asked softly, running her fingers back through his hair again. 

“Mhm,” Steve hummed, nodding immediately. She didn’t know Steve particularly well, but given everything she had seen, and given what she had learned through the few interactions with Jonathan and Will that he had had, the boy was clearly a caretaker. If she phrased it right, she might even get him to see her patching him up as him somehow taking care of her. 

“If you left now, I would be scared for you all night long,” Joyce began, keeping her voice soft and patient as she tried to find the right words, “Would you let me take care of you? Just so I feel better?”

Steve stared at her through his bloodied eye for almost a solid minute after Joyce stopped speaking. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was working through, but she didn’t falter. She didn’t look away, didn’t pause in the gentle touch. 

Joyce didn’t mind giving him the time. There were a thousand things she didn’t want to think about right now. It felt good to just be able to help, even if it was something as small as a mother’s touch.  

“Okay,” Steve whispered, leaning into her hand and closing his eyes. 

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock in Four Months Part 13

Part One Part Twelve Link to Ao3. Part Fourteen

This is the stoncy chapter I've been talking about y'all enjoy!

All I want is to be left alone, in my average home

But why do I always feel

Like I'm in the Twilight Zone?

Click. 

No one heard a single word you said

They should have seen it in your eyes

What was going around your head

Click

Mama, oooh

I don't want to die,

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.

Click. 

Static. 

“Just leave it off Jonathan?” Nancy murmured. Jonathan shrugged, clicking off the radio and  putting his reaching hand back on the steering wheel. Ten and two, perfectly safe.

Did that matter to Nancy? She had always made a fuss about Steve driving one handed, but he had ignored her, even joked about her being a nag. He thought it was fun, the teasing little jabs that a couple gives each other when they’re young and dumb and in love. 

Was this one of the million things he had missed about Nancy? Was that why she had stopped loving him? 

Hell, maybe she never even started.  

Or maybe Steve was just overthinking things. None of it mattered, not really. Not anymore. It was a bunch of inconsequential details, that was all. Nancy just didn’t want to listen to the never ending changing sounds of Jonathan trying to find something on the radio. Steve was also grateful it was finally quiet, even if the tension filling the silence of the car was threatening to crush his lungs flat. 

“I don’t think it’s your fault.”

That was his voice. He had just said that. 

Why the hell did he just say that?!

Steve snapped his mouth shut, eyes widening as he realized he had just spoken without even meaning to. He hadn’t even really been thinking about it, but now it was out in the air for all of them to deal with. 

Jonathan flinched violently when he heard the words, like Steve had just hit him right in the jaw, and Nancy’s entire body was stiff as a board. Steve’s own limbs were locked up, joints starting to ache from how straight his spine was. 

“You said-“ Steve cut himself off with a frustrated little sigh, looking out the window at the trees rushing past them. He forced his body to relax, taking a deep breath the way Joyce said to. 

“I don’t think it’s your fault,” He repeated, quieter. 

That’s what she had said before, after he told her off. She said it was her fault they broke up, so that meant she blamed herself, right? Or that she thought Steve blamed her? He didn’t, and he didn’t want her thinking that he did. 

That was probably why she wanted to be friends so badly. All this time he hadn’t really gotten it, but now it was starting to make sense. She just wanted to get rid of the guilt, or maybe she pitied him. 

It wasn’t real. It was just Nancy being Nancy- trying to make things better. 

Steve wasn’t really that sure this was better. For any of them. Maybe knowing that he didn’t blame her would be enough to make Nancy give up pretending that she cared, when he already knew what he was to her. 

Bullshit. 

The quiet had stretched out too long, every second grating on Steve’s already frayed nerves. But just as he went to speak, to tell her to forget the whole thing, Nancy finally replied. 

“I thought you didn’t care that she was dead.”

Oh. 

And the fog was back. 

When the power had gone out, a fog had fallen over Steve. Thick white clouds and emptiness with nothing around him to hold onto. He wasn’t in his body anymore, just nearby. Jeff had helped him start to find the light, but now Nancy’s words were throwing him dead into the center of the mist. 

“I thought it didn’t matter to you. That my best friend was dead, and no one noticed,” She continued, her voice breaking.

It was good he couldn’t feel anything right now. 

If he could, he would probably act stupid about this. Get mad, or be angry, try and hide all the other bigger, more confusing, emotions down under things that made sense. But, since he couldn’t feel anything, Steve thought. 

He thought, and thought, and thought; wracking his brains, treading the water as he tried to think about what else he could have possibly done to show Nancy he cared. He had gone to every dinner at the Hollands with Nancy, every memorial. Steve had even gone to Barb’s funeral, and that had happened after they broke up. 

The only thing he didn’t do was the one thing that could put them all in danger. Steve had just tried to keep everyone safe, because Barb was gone, but Nancy was still here, and Steve could help her. 

But apparently that was the only thing that had ever mattered. All the rest was just bullshit.  

“I haven’t gone in my pool since that night,” Steve managed to say through the fog, “not once.” 

It was true. He hadn’t gone in any other pool either. The smell of the chlorine made him nauseous now, and the feeling of water on his skin left him anxious and jumpy. He had given up his spot on the swim team, and Nancy had never asked why. She thought he didn’t care, but she didn’t even notice that. 

Eddie would have noticed. 

Steve sucked in a sharp breath, viciously thrown out of the mist by that idle, ludicrous thought. Eddie might’ve noticed, but that didn’t mean anything. Why on earth would it matter if Eddie would have asked? 

But Eddie noticed tonight too, a strange little voice said in the back of his mind, Eddie noticed when you ran off, and he went looking for you. 

No. No. They all went looking for him. They all did, because they were his friends. It wasn’t like Eddie- It wasn’t like Steve-

“I’m really tired,” Steve whispered, lacing his fingers together to try and make his hands stop shaking, his mind pulled in too many directions to form a coherent thought. 

“Same,” Nancy agreed with a humourless laugh. 

“Yeah,” Jonathan sighed, taking the last turn into the cul-de-sac. 

If there was going to be any more conversation after that, it was quickly put on hold, because the second Jonathan’s headlights flashed across the front of the Wheeler house, the kids were spilling out the front door. 

Somewhere along the drive, the power must have turned on, because all of the lights were on in the house. Bright gold light spilled along inky black grass as Jonathan smoothly pulled into the driveway, throwing the parking brake just in time for the kids to practically slam themselves into his car. 

“Geez, easy guys!” Jonathan barked as he shot out of the car, inspecting to see if there was any damage. Steve and Nancy got out slower on the other side, coming around as the kids began their interrogation, throwing words and bodies directly at Steve. 

“Where were you?!” 

“Why didn’t you answer your walkie!” 

“What is the point of party rules if you don’t follow them!” 

And on and on. It was another long ass lecture, one Steve was not interested in hearing. He wanted to snap and tell them all to knock it off, but just a single look over made him close his mouth and force another deep breath. 

They were good at hiding it, shoving it deep under anger and indignation, but Steve knew his kids. 

Dustin’s face was buried right in the middle of Steve’s chest, his hat knocked off in the calamity, and Lucas was practically glued to his side. Mike was yelling, but he had his eyes firmly on the ground, a tell tale sign he was tearing up, and Max hadn’t even spoken yet. Even Will had pulled away to nestle against Jonathan, wide eyed and worried, alternating between looking at his friends, and their babysitter. 

He had scared them. Badly. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, apologizing easily as he made direct eye contact with Max, who was staring him down. “I shouldn’t have left my walkie where I couldn’t get to it quickly.”

“Where were you?” Dustin demanded, still latched onto Steve like a koala. 

“I went with Eddie and Hellfire to go see his show,” Steve explained, gently starting to extract himself from both Dustin and Lucas. “I told Hopper about it, but he must have forgotten to tell you guys.”

Was it particularly nice to blame Hopper? No, but Steve could do damage control later. Right now he had to get his kids back to at least a somewhat controllable emotional state.

“A show?” Mike said incredulously, crossing his arms. He looked up from behind his bangs for a second as he spoke, quickly going back to glaring at the ground. 

Progress. At least a little bit.

“He’s in a band,” Steve replied. “They’re called Corroded Coffin. They play metal music.”

“Cool name,” Max said shortly, speaking for the first time since he got there. Steve nodded, mentally counting. 

One and Two in his arms, Three and Four standing in front of him, Five with Jonathan…

“Where’s El?” Steve asked, his heart dropping to his feet. The looks the kids shared only made the feeling worse, and Steve could feel his hands starting to shake. 

The fog was rolling back in.

——————————

“She hasn’t woken up at all since Hopper dropped her off,” Lucas explained in a hushed tone as they went down the stairs. It was hard to manage with all the kids still crowded pretty close around him, but Steve managed the best he could. 

El was lying on the couch, snuggled tight under a handmade blue and yellow quilt. Her curls were poking from one end, and mismatched polka dot socks peeked out from the other. 

“What happened?” Steve wondered, walking over in a daze and pulling the corner of the blanket back to look down at El’s face. 

“Apparently they were watching a movie, and then the lights started to flicker,” Dustin said as Steve squatted down to examine El more closely. 

She was sleeping still, but not peacefully. Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes darted back and forth behind her eyelids. Whatever dream she was having, if it was a dream at all, was not good. 

“She sat up, gasped, and then just… passed out,” Will added, looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t feel anything when the power went out, not really. Maybe a shiver? I dunno, but my mom went with Hopper to check the lab out.”

“We’re lucky my parents are out with Holly visiting Nana for the holidays,” Nancy said. 

“Very lucky,” Steve said hollowly, not really feeling lucky at all. He took El’s wrist as he spoke and felt out a pulse, just to be safe. 

It was there, strong and steady. The tension melted from Steve’s shoulders, and he sighed again, keeping his fingers pressed against her pulse point. 

“She’s fine,” Mike insisted, sitting on the floor next to Steve and staring at El, still avoiding looking at Steve. 

“Of course she is,” Steve agreed, unable to help the smile on his face. “Like you would ever let anything happen to her.”

This was enough to crack through Mike’s icy facade. He looked up at Steve for a second before sighing and roughly jabbing his elbow in Steve’s direction. It was the closest he was going to get to forgiveness, and he would take it. 

Besides, he had bigger things to worry about now. El was waking up, and not in a good way. She had started to whimper, her head tossing and turning. Then, just as Steve was going to try and shake her awake, she sat straight up, eyes wide open. 

“Steve?!” El said, panic and fear heavy in her tone, cutting straight through his heart. She looked around in a panic, curls flying as she seemed not to notice any of them near her. 

“Steve!” El yelled again, sounding even more terrified. 

“Hey, I’m right here,” Steve said, reaching over gently and putting his hand on El’s back.  He went as slow and careful as possible, but El jumped anyway, letting out a small scream of fright just at being touched, which only made Steve’s heart hurt more.  

The second she realized it was Steve that had his hand on her, El launched herself at him, practically welding her arms around his neck and squeezing on just the wrong side of too tight. 

“Had a bad dream,” El whimpered, nearly inaudible from where she was buried into his shoulder. Steve hugged her back, lifting her off of the couch and into his arms, gently rubbing his hand up and down the way Hopper had done for him the other day when he had his migraine. 

“It’s okay, it’s over now,” He said, trying to soothe her. 

“No,” El insisted, squirming her way out of Steve’s hold so she could latch her hands around his 

forearms, fingers pressing in hard enough Steve was almost worried he would have bruises. 

“You were holding something silver,” El started, her voice going dead monotone as her eyes glazed over. She wasn’t seeing him, just looking now. “You thought there was not enough time, so you made a choice.”

“Ellie,” Steve whispered, using his nickname for her to try and pull her from wherever she had gone. 

“Me for them,” El said, steamrolling right over Steve’s attempt, “you kept thinking that over and over. Me for them. Me for them. Me for them.”

She continued to say it, lowering her voice to barely a whisper as tears pooled in her eyes. 

“It’s okay, Ellie, it was- it was just a dream,” Steve said helplessly as El burrowed back into his arms, shaking her head. 

Whether it was or wasn’t, she was miserable, and Steve couldn’t leave her like that. He  wrapped her in a firm hug, blindly turning around to give Jonathan and Nancy a confused look, hoping they had some sort of answer. 

Unfortunately they were clearly just as perplexed by El’s sudden downturn into weirdness, and the kids seemed downright freaked out. 

“There is always enough time, Steve. Do not run,” El murmured, sounding utterly exhausted. “It is not you or us, and I do not want you Gone.”

Gone. The word El used because she couldn’t even think about the other one. 

“I’m not going anywhere, El, I promise,” Steve swore, hoping that would be enough to stop whatever this was. 

“If you run, it will get you.”

A cold shiver ran down Steve’s spine at El’s declaration. Judging by the looks the others were giving him, they had felt the same thing. It was more than just the words of a traumatized child in the throes of a nightmare. It was…

It was…

It was just more. More in a way that made Steve want to let the fog come back. He wanted to not feel anything, wanted to be blank, but he couldn’t. He had to fight it, because everyone was looking at him for an answer, and Steve didn’t have one yet. 

“You were watching a movie before with Hopper?” Steve asked, going with his instincts. 

“Yes,” El said slowly, unsure of why Steve was asking her. She furrowed her brow, pulling an absolutely adorable confused look. “It was called The Unsinkable Molly Brown.”

“My mom really likes that movie,” Mike said idly, mostly talking to himself. 

That meant that the Wheeler’s definitely had a copy. And El hadn’t finished the movie. 

“We should finish it,” Steve declared, coming up with a plan at the speed of light. “Mike, go get it.”

“What?! No,” Mike said, more shock than actual denial. “We can’t just sit around watching a movie! What if something happens?”

“Then something happens,” Steve shot back immediately, using his snarkiest tone of voice. He stood up, easily lifting El alongside him and dumping her onto the couch next to Max and making both girls let out unexpected laughter as they were jostled around.  

“Until Hopper and Mrs. Byers get back, we have a job… building the world’s best blanket fort,” Steve said, placing his hands on his hips and squaring his shoulders. 

“Yes!” Dustin hissed, holding out his hand for Lucas to smack. They had instantly caught onto Steve’s infectious energy, grabbing Max and Will and planning a layout that would be ideal for holding all six of them. 

As they began to debate the pros and cons of grabbing chairs from the kitchen upstairs, Steve turned to Jonathan and Nancy. Jonathan looked dubious, and Nancy wasn’t much better, but they weren’t arguing against him, and that was what mattered most. He only had one more hurdle to get over, and apparently Eleven was going to do it for him. 

“I enjoyed your old fort,” El said softly, giving Mike one of her tiny wonderful smiles, “it was fun.”

Mike melted into a puddle of goo, like he always did when it came to her. If it was just Steve, the answer would be no. If it was the party and Steve, the answer would probably still be no. Even with his sister and Jonathan thrown in, it wouldn’t stop Mike from pitching a fit.  

But El? There was nothing that boy wouldn’t do to make her happy. 

“Fine. I’ll go get the stupid movie,” Mike grumbled, stomping towards the stairs. Dustin blew past him in a rush with Will hot on his heels. 

“I’m stealing your pillow, Mike!” Dustin yelled from the top of the stairs, sounding positively gleeful. 

“Like hell you are!” The boy snarled, taking the steps two at a time to catch up with his friends. 

Steve could hear them arguing all the way to Mike’s  bedroom, happy fighting that meant his distraction was working like a charm. 

That was what he was best at. He couldn’t stop the monsters, he couldn’t make the fog go away. But Steve could light some candles and make shadows on the walls with his hands to tell a story. He could create something for them to focus on that wasn’t fear, for as long as they would take it from him. 

That had to be enough. It was all he had to give now. 

“Alright Mayfield, where do you want to start?” Steve asked, turning towards his favorite redhead. 

——————————

There they were, all six of them sleeping in a pile. Again. 

El in the middle, her face now lax and soft with peaceful sleep. Will on one side, Dustin on the other. Lucas and Max resting their heads on her stomach with Mike holding her hand over Will’s chest. 

And there Steve was, just sitting there watching them. 

Again. 

It was probably going to start being creepy at some point, but Steve couldn’t stop. There was a part of him that was convinced if he looked away, maybe even if he blinked for too long, they would disappear. A single moment, and they would be gone, and it would be his fault for not watching.

At least there wasn’t any pool light to shine on them now. Just the soft orange glow of the street lamps filtering in from the high basement window. 

“Hey,” A voice said from behind him, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. 

“Hey,” Steve replied, not bothering to turn and look as Jonathan eased himself down, sitting crosslegged on Steve’s left. They sat quietly, both staring at the sleeping kids in companionable silence. 

“Our parents used to fight a lot,” Jonathan said, cutting through the quiet. His voice was soft, low so it didn’t wake the kids, but sitting this close, Steve could hear every word. 

“Mom would send us to our rooms, but it didn’t matter. When they were screaming at each other, you could hear it all the way down the street.”

You could hear it in the woods too. Steve could remember a few times he was walking through the forest and caught the barely there sound of Mr. and Mrs. Byers arguing. 

He had tried not to listen, but the curiosity had been too alluring. Steve’s parents fought cold, cold to the point of freezing. They hurt each other with pointed words in a polite tone, or icy silences that made even Steve shiver. To them, being the first one to yell was losing. Then you were ‘overdramatic’, ‘irrational’, and above all ‘wrong’. 

There was something so foreign about the way the couple screamed at each other, but still so compelling. Like there was no hiding their feelings, no need to push down the pain. They gave it to each other loud enough for the rest of the world to hear, and everyone in town knew almost every detail about their extremely messy separation. 

Almost no one knew that Steve’s parents rarely ever slept in the same bed anymore. They continued to remain the perfect couple, a pillar of the town’s upper class society. It was a dirty little secret, the kind that kept Steve up at night. 

He still wasn’t sure which way was better. 

“So I used to put on music for us,” Jonathan continued, unaware of Steve’s thoughts. There was a ghost of a smile on his face, the kind that seemed to be solely reserved for Will and Nancy,.“The Clash, Bon Jovi, The Police. Whatever would be loudest.”

It seemed that even quiet kid Jonathan was loud when he had to be, truly his parent’s child. Another little quirk of his for Steve to remember, even if he had no idea why Jonathan was telling him this story. 

“I get it now. Why you act the way you do,” Jonathan whispered, watching Will like a hawk. “You don’t want this to be the only thing they know. You want them to still get a chance to let this go someday, even if we never will.” 

A familiar rush of envy shot through Steve’s veins. Jonathan was just so damn perceptive, able to cut straight to the heart of an issue in a way Steve could never do. Steve was perceptive, but never on purpose. It was like there was this secret part of his brain that processed things and gave him little tidbits whenever it felt like it. 

Jonathan just understood. 

“Do you think it was just a power outage?” Steve murmured, needing to know if Jonathan felt the same way he did. 

“I don’t think it will ever just be a power outage anymore,” Jonathan said with a sigh, hitting the nail perfectly on the head, “not for us.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore, hating the way Jonathan’s words made tears prick at his eyes. It was just so damn exhausting, annoying in a way that was impossible to explain. Steve had survived as long as he did by being able to let things go. Nothing stuck, nothing held on, and he was safe. 

But there was no letting go anymore. 

Steve had memories, and Steve had migraines, and Steve had kids. They needed him to remember, because they needed to be able to rely on him. He had to remember because how else would he keep them safe? 

It was sacrifice, and Steve didn’t mind it, but damn if it didn’t make him so tired all the time. 

“At least you aren’t going crazy all by yourself,” Jonathan offered, ducking his head down the way he always did when he was being genuine or kind. Like he was scared to see what people would do when he was nice to them, or nervous if he looked they would take it differently. 

Steve huffed out a soft laugh, leaning over to bump their shoulders together. It was silly, but a little bit of the awkwardness was gone. Not just the awkwardness of staring at a bunch of sleeping preteens, but also the awkwardness that seemed to permanently exist between him and Jonathan. 

The door from the house to the basement creaked open, light spilling down onto the kids. Jonathan looked up, and Steve risked a glance away from them as well. If Jonathan thought it was fine, it probably would be. 

Nancy was slowly making her way down the stairs, balancing three steaming mugs with the precision only she seemed to have. Both boys jumped to help her, each grabbing a cup before walking back to their spots. 

“The kids?” Nancy asked as she sat on the couch nearby them, taking a sip from her mug. 

“All good,” Steve reassured, looking down at his own drink. Hot chocolate, foamy and smelling absolutely divine.

He took a sip, letting it burn the roof of his mouth just to give himself something to do. The awkwardness had returned with Nancy’s arrival, sitting like a rock in all of their stomachs. Unconsciously Steve began to count the seconds, timing his breaths to beats of four. 

Four. In.

Eight. Hold.

Twelve. Out.

Sixteen. Hold. 

Twenty. In-

“I should have noticed,” Nancy murmured, cutting through the silence.

Steve blew his breath out early, glancing over at Nancy. She was staring down into her cup of cocoa, but her eyes darted up to meet Steve’s as soon as she spoke, needing to see his reaction. 

He couldn’t give her much. Steve didn’t know what she had apparently not noticed. 

“That you never went in the pool anymore,” Nancy continued when she realized he didn’t understand. “You always loved to swim before.”

Oh. 

Steve placed his mug on the floor next to him, going back to staring at the kids. 

“It was wrong,” Nancy started, brave as ever, unable to hide the way Steve always did. “I knew it was, but I knew you loved me, and you wouldn’t hurt me, and I was just so-“

She cut herself off, sounding uncharacteristically choked up. Steve couldn’t see, because he wasn’t looking at her.

“But I knew it was wrong to start dating you again. And I’m sorry.”

Was she sorry that she had dated him, or sorry she said yes? Did all of that mean that there really wasn’t anything that mattered between them for an entire year? 

Steve didn’t want the answers. He didn’t even want to talk about this. He wanted the fog and he wanted to hide, and he even wanted the awkward silence from before. 

Anything but this. 

“Nance-” 

“I hurt you, Steve,” Nancy said, interrupting him before he could stop the conversation. 

She said it so plainly. A statement of fact, not opinion. Steve had justified everything by telling himself he was a shitty boyfriend, that he had done a bad job, and that’s why they didn’t work. 

He had never even let himself really consider that it was Nancy and not him that had been a bad partner. That just wasn’t how relationships worked. He was the one that did the wrong thing, he was the one that didn’t work hard enough. 

But Nancy hadn’t noticed he didn’t swim anymore. 

“And I made myself think that you had done something to cause our problems,” Nancy said, with a laugh that bordered on a sob. Steve was glad he wasn’t looking at her. If she was crying, he wouldn’t be able to have this conversation. “I made it so you didn’t care enough, or that you didn’t notice, when the truth was I refused to let you in. I had to make it your problem, because I couldn’t handle it if it was just me doing the wrong thing.”

“You didn’t hurt me on purpose, Nancy,” Steve said dumbly, inserting himself in the middle of her self-deprecating spiral, unable to listen as she took the entire weight of their failed relationship. 

“Does that matter?” Nancy asked.

“It matters to me,” Steve said, his voice firm and his tone set. 

He forced his body to stand, walking over to the couch and sitting next to Nancy, risking a look over to see her face. Sure enough, there were tear tracks on her cheeks, and just seeing them was enough to make Steve want to balk and forget the whole thing. 

But he didn’t waver, didn’t stop, because if Nancy could be brave enough to do this, then Steve had to be too. 

“I meant it, Nancy, when I told you that night that it was okay,” Steve said, leaning his forearms on his knees. “You weren’t happy with me and…”

He gathered his courage, needing to admit the thing he hadn’t even really been able to say to himself before tonight. 

“And I wasn’t happy either.”

“What?” Nancy breathed, turning to stare at Steve with complete bewilderment in her eyes.

Just saying it was like cutting the strings holding him up. Steve’s entire body sagged in relief and he wasn’t afraid to look at Nancy now. 

“I made myself think I was, or that we would be able to get there,” Steve explained, finally fully realizing what he had been feeling in the weeks since their breakup, “but that night that El closed the gate? When I told you to go with Jonathan and let me stay with the kids? I felt this… release. Like we could both just finally breathe, because we were broken up, but we weren’t losing anyone. I wasn’t losing you, and you are never going to lose me.” 

That was at the heart of everything, wasn’t it? Nancy had lost Barb, and she didn’t think she could go through that kind of pain again. Steve knew she could, he was pretty sure there wasn’t a thing in the world that would knock Nancy down permanently. But she didn’t know, and the fear of that was enough to make her act a little crazy. 

He could get that. He was still counting the kids. 

Steve opened an arm, and Nancy hugged him tightly, the same desperate clutching hold that she had given him earlier in the parking lot. 

“I do care about you, so much,” Nancy whispered harshly into his ear, saying the words like she needed to make herself believe them, “I do care. I do.”

“I know,” Steve replied, shocked at how true it was. He did know how much Nancy cared. She cared more than anything, but she was scared about that. All that bravery, all that courage, and she was still terrified to say she loved, because she thought it would hurt worse when loss came. 

It was funny how similar they were. Steve could see that now. 

“Everything’s okay now,” Steve told her as they broke apart. 

“Is it?” Nancy asked dubiously, turning to Jonathan who shrugged. 

“If it isn’t, then we’ll survive. We always do,” Jonathan pointed out, coming over and sitting on Nancy’s other side. She leaned against him and he hooked his chin overtop her head, raising an eyebrow towards Steve. 

“Still have your bat?”

“Well it’s in my car that’s sitting in Eddie’s driveway, but I think we can probably make a pit stop before the devil dogs get us,” Steve offered. Nancy and Jonathan both immediately began to laugh, trying to smother down giggles and snickers so they didn’t wake up the kids. 

“What?” Steve said, teasingly defensive. “Mad that I have friends?”

“D-d-demodogs, Steve,” Nancy said through her tamped down laughter. “Devil dogs are a p-p-p-pastry!” 

All three of them lost it. Nancy hid her face in her hands, and Jonathan put his forehead against the crown of her head, his shoulders shaking. Steve bit down his grin, watching the two of them with a soft golden glow sitting in his chest. 

No, things weren’t perfect, and they probably never would be, but there was something about getting to laugh about all of this that was incredibly cathartic. 

“Okay what is going on with you and Eddie Munson?” Nancy finally asked when she had control of herself again. 

“What do you mean, Nance?” Steve asked, grabbing his mug and holding it close. 

“You’re like total opposites,” Jonathan explained, still grinning. “It’s like Freaky Friday.”

Nancy snorted, and Steve sputtered as he tried to defend himself and his friend. They weren’t that different, at least Steve didn’t think so. Eddie was sweet, smart in a kind of unconventional way, and he was always trying his hardest in everything he did. He noticed everything, but he didn’t always have to comment. At least, not in a way that was too deep. 

They were similar in the ways that mattered. The ways that mattered to Steve anyway. 

But there was no way to explain that, was there? Not one that would make sense to anyone but him. 

“He’s safe,” Steve said simply, wrapping it all up in just two words. 

Nancy and Jonathan shared one of those secret couple looks after Steve spoke, communicating without words as they processed his explanation. But before either of them could comment, bright headlights raced across the windows. Someone was outside. 

Instant mood shift. The easy going warmth between the three of them had disappeared, replaced by a panicky cold that made Steve’s hands tremble and his mind go blank. Nancy stood and the two boys got up right after, all three moving as a single unit out of the basement and up to the driveway. 

Hopper and Joyce were getting out of his car, hopping down with drawn weary looks and slumped shoulders. Nancy grabbed Jonathan’s hand, and, after a moment of hesitation, she grabbed Steve’s with her other. They let Hopper and Joyce approach them, both groups staring the other down in the strangest standoff Steve had ever seen. 

“Well?” Nancy asked, still brave. 

“Nothing,” Hopper answered with a sigh, “no gate.” 

No gate. 

It should have been a relief. Steve should be happy now, calm and content. Instead it was a hollow victory, an achievement that only made him feel worse. 

“That’s not possible,” Jonathan insisted, and Steve had to agree. After everything they went through tonight, that was it? 

“There’s nothing there. Owens took us through the entire lab. Everything was still condemned, locked up tight. We even went down to the basement, and there was no gate,” Joyce explained, rubbing a hand over face and wrapping her arms around her middle. 

“It was just a power outage,” Hopper said, as if that was the end of it. 

But it wasn’t. It would never be the end of it. There was still too much unanswered. 

“El passed out,” Steve protested, speaking up for the first time since they came outside.  Not only had she passed out, she had also had some sort of vision about him that ended in him being Gone. That didn’t feel like just a power outage. 

“And she’s a traumatized kid,” Hopper replied, using the same soft tone he had when they were sitting together on his steps. “She’s entitled to a few overreactions.” 

An overreaction? Was that really all this was? But then what had Steve seen in the woods by the trailer park? Why had the headlights on Eddie’s van flickered? 

He wanted to tell them, wanted to explain why he was pressing the issue, but Steve couldn’t make his mouth form the words. They just swirled around in the back of his mind, dark and stormy. 

“We made sure. There’s nothing there,” Joyce said, reaching over and holding out a hand for Jonathan. He pulled away from Nancy and went to his mother, both of them starting to speak in low whispers. Hopper stepped closer, giving Steve a once over. 

“Seems like you and El both are going for the whole MTV punk thing,” Hopper teased. Steve gave him an unimpressed look, and Hopper held up his hands in surrender. “No hate, just pointing it out.”

“I went to Eddie’s show tonight?” Steve reminded him. Recognition flitted across the man’s features and his good mood soured ever so slightly. 

“Ah, yes, drug dealing Eddie Munson,” Hopper said with a sigh. Steve stuck his tongue out, annoyed that he was so focused on that one single detail. So what? Eddie sold drugs. He wasn’t the only one who did, and at least he wasn’t cutting them with ridiculous shit like Marty Feldman liked to. 

“Where’s your car?” Hopper asked, clearly hoping to change the subject.  

“At Eddie’s place,” Steve promptly answered. Hopper huffed out a sarcastic little laugh and Steve scowled. 

“What?” He challenged, daring Hopper to say something. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Hopper said, making himself the picture of innocence. He put his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels with a sigh, “Listen, I’m gonna go in and grab El, tell the kids everything, make sure they’re okay and aren’t about to go trespassing to make sure things are settled. Do you want me to give you a ride to go get it? Or maybe you should just stay at the cabin tonight, and-“

“Steve already said he was staying here,” Nancy said in a rush. She was still holding his hand, but she squeezed it tight when she spoke, “Jonathan and I asked him. That’s still okay, right?”

Oh. She was talking to Steve. They were both looking at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah, that works,” Steve lied smoothly, turning to Hopper with a shrug. “Sorry, Hop.”

“Whatever works, kid. Just an offer,” Hopper shrugged. Jonathan and Joyce walked over and Hopper and Joyce started towards the basement, leaving the three of them standing alone in the driveway

“I just- I don’t want you to leave. Not yet,” Nancy explained when Steve turned to her with an absolutely bewildered expression. 

For so much of their relationship, it felt like Steve was always the one asking her to stay. There were a thousand times in their relationship Steve had wanted to hear those words coming from her instead of him. And because of that a part of him wanted to leave. 

That little bit of him wanted to lash out. Leave her in the dust and see how she managed it. It would be easy to do that, to put up a spikey wall to keep her out now that Nancy was showing her own vulnerability. 

But that vicious little part of him was overwhelmed by an easy love for Nancy. Not romantic, not the same yearning painful ache he had carried for a year and half. This was warm, soft, coated in something that Steve knew was love, just not the kind he was used to feeling. It was nice, and Steve didn’t want to leave. 

“Okay,” Steve whispered, lacing their fingers together. 

“Steve’s staying tonight,” Nancy said to Jonathan. Steve had a second of being worried he was overstepping, afraid Jonathan was going to be less than thrilled at the impromptu sleepover. But Jonathan just gave Steve one of his rare smiles, grabbing Nancy’s other hand. 

“Good,” Jonathan said, dragging them both back towards the house.

Tag List:

[withacapitalp]

“Of all of the dumbass ridiculous outfits we’ve had to wear for our many many mediocre jobs, this is the worst one yet,” Robin grouched, yanking her hat off and tossing it at Steve. 

He caught it seamlessly, throwing it back at her and rolling his eyes. Yeah, it wasn’t good, but this wasn’t any worse than the Scoops Ahoy uniforms. 

Well…the tights were a bit much. 

“Just two more weeks,” Steve reminded her, grabbing his own pointy hat and jamming it onto his head. They had about thirty seconds more before they had to go out and get back into the melee.  

“Two more weeks of torture,” Robin groaned as they left their teeny tiny break room, a long line of kids already set up and waiting for Santa to arrive. 

“It isn’t that bad Robin,” Steve mumbled, keeping his voice pitched low so the kids wouldn’t hear them and have the magic of the moment ruined. 

“Well, well, well, hello Mr. Elf,” A sultry voice purred from behind him. 

Never mind. It was that bad. 

Steve winced, taking a deep breath and turning around. Eddie was standing there in full metal regalia. Torn jeans, leather jacket, big chunky black boots and all. A complete contrast to Steve’s absolutely ridiculous candy striped elf costume. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve hissed, looking around frantically. If the kids were here with him, then they would never let him or Robin live this down. They still made all kinds of cracks about the stupid sailor outfit, and that was five years ago. 

“I’m taking a picture with Santa,” Eddie said, keeping his face the perfect picture of innocence, “I think I finally might’ve made the nice list this year, Stevie,”

“Then go to the back of the line,” Robin growled, hip checking Eddie as she walked past with her arms full of tinsel. 

He stuck his tongue out at her back. A few of the kids nearby giggled, and Eddie turned to them. He made a funny face quickly before their parents could see and then leaned in close to Steve’s ear. 

“Or maybe I can skip it, and you can sit on my lap when you come home,” He murmured, barely audible even to Steve. 

An immediate blush burned through Steve from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes. 

“This is really doing it for you? This?” Steve said with an exaggerated eye roll, waving an arm around his outfit. He was in a neon green tunic, a cone shaped hat, skin tight red and white striped tights, and ridiculous curled up shoes. 

He couldn’t think of an outfit that was less sexy, but Eddie was looking at him like he was a perfectly wrapped present. 

“Maybe?” Eddie shrugged, waggling his eyebrows. Steve sighed, shaking his head and trying to hide the dumb grin on his face. 

“I’ll be home in five hours,” 

“I’ll be waiting,”