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#hurt steve harrington
aethermint · 1 year
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So did the fanfic writers and duffer brothers just forget about the severe injuries on Steve's arms and back or??? Like no way can he just soccer mom that shit 2 days later.
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afewproblems · 2 months
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Angsty dialogue prompts 👀
Number 13 - "Why would you say that?"
-@strangersteddierthings
Ahhhhhh thank you for the request Jess! @strangersteddierthings I hope you enjoy, I took this into a bit of a different direction than even I expected!
***
It takes Robin's foot connecting with his ankle to make Steve realize he was starring.
At Eddie, yet again.
Something that he had been doing a lot over the last few months since everything with Vecna and the Upside Down. Since Steve and Robin had managed to drag Eddie back from the brink, fighting off inky tendrils of death as Dustin led the way while Nancy brought up the rear, shot gun in hand.
Between the four of them, Eddie had actually made it. Torn up and missing about two liters of blood, but alive.
Of course, navigating the aftermath of the earthquakes and the loss of half the town had actually made it easier to avoid the murder charges that had been lobbed at Eddie.
Especially with the way Lucas, Erica, and Max had sworn up and down that Jason had been the one responsible for all of the murders, that they had narrowly escaped becoming his final victims.
And who could argue with the evidence, certainly not Jason after the surge of white hot energy that split the earth had finished with him.
So with Eddie's newfound freedom and the inability to argue with Dustin's insistence that he had been officially adopted into the party, his presence in their lives had become something that Steve looked forward to.
It was nice having someone else his age in the group. Robin was his other half of course, his soul mate, but it was nice having another guy to hang out with, and of course it wasn't because of anything else, Robin.
He let it slip one time that Eddie had nice eyes and was easy to talk to and, do you think he's seeing anyone Bobby, and suddenly Steve is accused of having a crush. Of all things!
Steve feels two fingers suddenly pinch at the outside of his thigh and has to suppress a loud yelp as he bats Robin's hands away from his leg with a glare.
She rolls her eyes and gives him a knowing look before turning back to the conversation.
"Take Stevie over here," Eddie says around the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before passing it over to Argyle and Steve can't help but watch, transfixed, as the smoke billows out from his nose like a dragon.
"I can guarantee you that he's seen the ocean before while the rest of us land-locked lubbers will probably never get the pleasure," Eddie continues with a wink and kicks his leg up onto the coffee table in Steve's basement.
Argyle blows out a long puff of smoke, he's leaned back against the couch with his head tipped up towards the ceiling, "thats wild man," he says with a laugh in his voice, he doesn't react when Jonathan snorts and takes the joint from his hand.
"Seriously?" Jon asks after a minute, "dude, we lived in California, we literally went to the beach all the time?"
Robin and Nancy both laugh at the noise of recognition that Argyle makes while Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Okay but for everyone else who didn't have the benefit of local geography," Eddie says, gesturing at the girls and himself, "we will be cursed to never feel the sand between our toes and all that shit".
Robin quirks an eyebrow and takes a swig of beer from the can in her hands, the sleeve of her denim jacket brushes against Steve's arm as she moves to set the can back on the coffee table.
They're the only two seated on the floor, Steve having given up the couch so everyone else could be comfortable and Robin couldn't, in good conscience, let her best friend sit by himself.
God he loves her, Steve thinks as he shoots her a soft smile.
He's never had someone that loves him so openly, so unapologetically as Robin does.
Not even when his parents were home for more than a few days a year did they show him the same kind of care that she had in their short time of knowing one another.
Sure, they teased each other, Robin had even made a new scoreboard for his failed attempts at flirting at Family Video --this one with a new section after Steve quietly admitted to her that they had even more in common than they had realized earlier.
But Robin was there, in a way that he hadn't really had from anyone else in years.
"I don't know how you deal with it Buckley," Eddie huffs. He's grinning widely at Robin and Steve, reaching to take the joint back from Jonathan.
"What," she says dryly, "Steve? He grows on you".
"He does," Nancy insists loudly from Jonathan's other side, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes a little glassy. Jonathan lifts his arm to tuck her against his side with a fond grin, he meets Steve's gaze after a minute and mouths, 'still a lightweight,' which makes Steve snort.
"This!" Eddie barks out, lifting a ringed hand to gesture around the basement sitting room, "look there's a fucking Linn LP12 sitting right beside you and a God Damn pool outside".
Steve frowns, looking from Robin back to Eddie. He feels an uncomfortable thrum roll over his skin as Eddie stands up to make his way to the sound system he pointed out.
"Jesus, I think this whole collection cost more than my trailer," he picks up Steve's mothers Joni Mitchell album, turning it in his hands, "must have been nice to have mommy and daddy's money huh? This is like 'fuck you' rich".
Steve feels a faint nervous laugh tumble out of his mouth, even as his stomach rolls at the words.
"Oh my god," Robin laughs, knocking her shoulder into Steve's own, "yes! If I had a nickle for the number of times he asked me why I don't have my own phone line yet whenever my mom answers first, I'd be as rich as Steve!"
Eddie puts the Blue album back and pulls out a copy of The Beatles and now Steve is sweating.
Because Eddie isn't wrong, this is his parents music collection and yes it did cost them a lot of money over the years. But, more importantly, it was off limits to Steve.
The last time his dad had caught him flipping through the vinyls, Steve had been sent to his room with large purple hand prints on the offending arm and two broken fingers.
"Okay, that's my dad's, put it down," he says, hiding the tremor in his voice as he gets to his feet.
Eddie rolls his eyes again but does set the record down on top of the collection. He raises his hands in surrender and raises a mocking eyebrow as he steps back towards the couch, dropping down on the end as Argyle scoots closer to Jonathan to make more space.
Argyle and Jonathan speak quietly to one another seemingly uncaring about the strange tension that begins to bleed into the basement. It's Nancy who is watching Steve, Eddie, and Robin, her mouth set in an unhappy frown.
Nancy had only met Steve's parents once during a very uncomfortable dinner, years back when they had dated. While she may not know the true extent of Steve's relationship with Richard and Cynthia Harrington, she knows it wasn't all sunshine and roses.
"Man," Eddie snorts, shooting Robin a wicked grin, "I knew your parents had spoiled you pretty rotten but I didn't think they needed to buy you a new sense of humor".
"Yeah Steve," Robin pats the carpet beside her, "it's just a joke, lighten up and come sit down".
And that, well, that hurt a bit more than Steve anticipated.
"Why would you say that?" He whispers, the words falling out of his mouth like vomit before he can stop it.
Eddie scoffs from the couch, but Steve isn't looking at Eddie. He's looking at Robin.
Robin who meets Steve's gaze with a slight frown between her eyes, she looks back at Nancy with a laugh in her smile that disappears at the frosty glare Nancy fixes her with.
She slowly turns to look back at Steve, confusion and concern in her blue eyes.
"Oh come on Steve," Eddie takes a drag of the joint, which has dwindled into something resembling a roach before stubbing it out in the brown ashtray on the table, "we're kidding, come on Byers, you get it right?"
Nancy leans up to whisper something in Jonathan's ear and whatever it is, it's enough to make him stiffen slightly and give Steve a long look before he shakes his head, "I think we're going to head home actually".
Steve nods and breathes out, ignoring the way his chest tightens as he refuses to meet Robin's worried gaze.
Eddie slowly stands to follow Nancy and Jonathan, he says something quietly to Argyle that is met with a simple serene shrug
Eddie hangs back as the other three make their way up the basement stairs. He chews his lip and clenches his fist as he looks between Steve and Robin with a frown.
Eddie stands awkwardly beside Robin, spinning one of the rings on his left hand as he looks between Steve and the stairs that the others had used to beat their hasty retreat.
Robin gets to her feet slowly, her gaze never wavering, "Steve?"
Steve winces at the way she says his name.
He knows it was just a joke, he knows he's overreacting, that neither of them could have known about his relationship with his parents.
He knows it's unfair of him to be so upset, but he can't help it.
Because Eddie mocking him, that he could deal with. He could get over it, let go of the fantasies of Eddie's crinkling eyes and warm smile that made Steve's heartbeat quicken.
But Robin?
The way she had laughed, dismissed his discomfort, it was as though he had been transported back to Tommy's basement just a few years back, listening to him and Carol tear him down.
It's just a joke Steve.
He reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, flinching at the sharp intake of air from Robin who immediately makes her way closer.
"Just," he manages to say with an even tone, shaking his head. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, taking a step back from the pair.
"I'm going to bed, got a shift tomorrow, so," Steve says quietly with a shrug. He opens his eyes but drops his gaze to the carpet, knowing if he made eye contact with Robin, he would inevitably ask her to stay.
Robin opens her mouth to argue, a fierce glare in her eyes and a bright flush on her face, he hasn't seen her this upset since the Creel House.
"Steve--"
Robin jumps as Eddie reaches for her arm, pulling her back, hard enough that she stumbles slightly into Eddie.
Steve curls his arms around himself, shying away from Eddie's dark evaluating eyes. He doesn't need to see the judgment there, it's embarrassing enough feeling like he's ruined the evening because of his hangups. He doesn't need the reminder of how ridiculous it is to be angry with them over something so silly.
"Come on Buckley, I'll drive you home," Eddie mumbles as he gently tugs at her arm once again.
Steve hears a harsh sigh, but she doesn't say anything this time. He can feel her staring, as though trying to read his mind like she normally could. But Steve keeps his eyes trained on the floor, until he hears two pairs of feet finally make their way up the stairs, until the front door closes, until Eddie's van roars to life on the Harrington driveway.
Steve eventually makes his way upstairs in a daze, half heartedly getting ready for bed.
He brushes his teeth, washes his face, doing everything he can to ignore the words that echo in his head over and over. He finishes in the bathroom and takes off his jeans, swapping his sweater for an old ratty t-shirt he often used for bed.
It was just a joke.
Steve rolls over until he's facing the window, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he closes his eyes.
Maybe it would be funnier in the morning.
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hitlikehammers · 2 months
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nowhere without you
rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️
for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him
(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)
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The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.
Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…
It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.
He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—
“How did you stand you it?”
The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.
More, kinda…kinda desperate.
So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.
“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:
“How did you survive it?”
Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—
Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.
“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—
Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—
“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—
“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…
He survived, like, now?
“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—
“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”
Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—
Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.
How did you survive it?
Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.
That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—
“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”
Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.
“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.
He was listening.
“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”
“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.
“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—
“I couldn’t feel you.”
Oh. Fuck. He—
“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”
“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.
A love big enough to hurt that hard.
“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.
“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.
“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:
“All of me. It’s yours.”
Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.
It knows.
“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“
“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.
“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:
“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”
“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.
It’s a start.
”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”
And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.
Not for them.
Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:
“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:
“Was never going anywhere without you.”
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♥️ ao3 link here
tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch
♥️
divider credit here
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kennahjune · 2 months
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Was having sad thoughts and thought about Steve and Eddie getting into a particularly bad argument and Eddie storming off without resolving it with Steve like they usually do.
The thing is, they’re both so careful about never leaving before an arguments done and fixed because they both know how that ends. Their parents are prime examples.
And then Eddie just leaves, like everyone else, and something snaps in Steve.
So he goes out by himself, probably all the way in Indy just for a new scene. He’s having fun— getting his mind off of Eddie and the argument and everything. And everyone’s actually kinda nice.
But there’s always one asshole who won’t lay off, right? And this dude just won’t take a fucking hint and then won’t take ‘no’.
So when Steve leaves the club, the douche follows and corners him and essentially it ends in another concussion for poor Stevie.
With this added concussion, Steve isn’t allowed to leave the hospital he’s brought to by a nice random man until someone is able to come and pick him up.
Steve actually spends a whole two days in that hospital because he refused to call Eddie. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he wasn’t entirely sure Eddie would come, and that would hurt more than any stupid concussion Steve could get.
But he relents eventually, and calls his boyfriend, who’s absolutely flabbergasted that Steve hadn’t called him sooner. Eddie’s there as soon as he can be, leaving work early and breaking every traffic law there is.
And then we get the awkward drive home and then the emotional make up because I don’t do hurt/no comfort.
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sanguineterrain · 1 year
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no more lonely nights - s.h.
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Summary: Steve comes home from Starcourt, bruised and battered. And you're there. You always are.
Pairing: best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings/tags: s3 beaten up Steve, my poor little meow meow. Vomit, hurt Steve, friends to lovers, sharing a bed. Reader's a swell gal, and, to no one's surprise, Steve is a sweetheart.
Notes: heads up that Steve IS thinking clearly; the drugs have worn off by the end. This takes place in s3, reader and steve are 18+, etc.
****
The flash of headlights rouses you from sleep. Checking your watch tells you that it's a little past midnight. You push yourself onto your knees, squinting at the red taillights. Beneath the streetlamp, you can just make out the maroon BMW humming in the Harringtons’ driveway. A moment later, the driver's door flies open and a figure hunches over the side. Steve.
He grasps the inside handle and stays like that for less than a second. Then he throws up. 
You're out of bed in an instant. 
Steve dry heaves a couple times, his coughs and gasps echoing on the asphalt. You slip on your thin, silk robe—a present from Steve—and haphazardly tie the belt. Your own parents are gone for the weekend to visit a friend, so slipping on your shoes and running across the street in your pajamas draws no questions. 
The block is dead. The silence is thick in the dark; the only sound is Steve's car. You run across the road and carefully step around the sick, sliding a gentle hand over Steve’s bicep. He flinches so hard he hits his head on the top of the door.
“Whoa, hey! Hey, Steve, it’s me, it’s Y/N.” 
“Y/N?” he croaks, blindly searching for your hand.
You hold his hand and rest your other on his shoulder in case he loses balance. Steve squeezes weakly.
“Hey,” you say, softer. “Did you drive home drunk?” 
“No,” he manages, then sits up. 
You gasp.
Steve's face is covered in blood and badly swollen, his right eye sporting the largest shiner you’ve ever seen on him. Yellow and purple bruises bloom along his face and neck. His Scoops uniform has spots of blood and is torn in about a hundred places. You feel as sick as he does.
“Steve, oh my—” Your fingers ghost over his bruises. “What happened?”
“Russians. At Starcourt. They opened a portal or something. Billy, he's…" 
Steve scrunches his brow hard. You hush him, not wanting him to delve into what is no doubt a frightening memory. Then you lean in and turn off the car. 
“Okay, alright. We’ll talk about it later. Can you walk?” 
“Um… yeah, yeah," he says, not sounding too certain. "Just gimme a sec. Feel kinda dizzy.”
“You shouldn’t have driven yourself home, Steve," you say, heart in your throat. "Couldn’t someone else have given you a ride? Mrs. Byers? Hopper?"
“Didn’t wanna bother anyone. ‘M fine.”
You crouch as best you can so you're level with him. He looks at you with droopy eyes, mouth parted. Shamefully, you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, despite the cut on his bottom lip. With careful fingers, you touch his less injured side, grazing over a smaller cut. He winces. 
“Sorry,” you whisper.
He smiles, pained and sweet. 
“‘S okay. Did I wake you? You didn’t have to come down.”
Your brows furrow.
“You’re hurt, Steve. Of course I came down.”
He shakes his head, breathing raspy.
“You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to.”
He looks at you, sleepy and swollen. You tuck a bit of hair behind his ear before you can think about it. 
“Ready to go inside?” you ask.
“Mm, think so."
You roll up the sleeves of your robe and sling your arm under Steve’s armpit. He follows you up, not leaning as much weight on you as you want. You lock the car and hobble over to the front steps, Steve in tow. He braces himself against the brick while you open the door. Then you heft him inside. Steve's head lolls onto your shoulder. 
"Stay awake, Stevie," you urge, jostling his arm. "Just for a little longer, promise."
"'M good," he mumbles. "Jus’ need a shower. Spent a good chunk of the night on the bathroom floor." 
He hisses when you both turn the corner. You stop, turning so you can see his face. Your hand hovers unsurely over his ribs. 
"What hurts?"
"No, 's just a little bruised. Finally won a fight though." Steve's grin makes butterflies flit in your belly, despite him looking like he's been shoved into a meat grinder. "Proud of me?"
"No, Steve. I'm glad you're home safe but I don't want you in any fights. You need to take care of yourself," you say, slowly helping him into the bathroom. "I know you wanna look out for the kids but you're killing yourself doing it."
"Better I get hurt than them," he declares. "Better me than Robin or Dustin or anybody."
You help him sit on the edge of the tub and take the alcohol and gauze from the medicine cabinet. Steve looks up at you with wet, trusting eyes. 
"This is gonna sting," you warn. 
"Yeah," Steve nods, bracing himself with one hand on the lip of the tub. 
You cup his face and gently swab the cuts. He's quiet as you do so, gazing at you with those big brown eyes. 
"What were you doing up?" he asks when you finish. 
"Just couldn't sleep with the house so empty."
You don't mention the fact that you'd been waiting for Steve's car to pull in. That you've done so everyday this summer. No one, including Steve, will tell you details about the strange happenings in Hawkins. Still, it's all you can do to not follow him into whatever maw of danger he finds himself in. And it's only because of Steve that you stay put. 
I can't lose you, he'd pleaded one late night when you'd asked. I care about you too much to get you mixed up in this shit. Don't come, please.
So you hadn't. You regret listening. 
"You can't sleep a lot?" Steve asks. 
You hum, not wanting him to worry. "Sometimes."
"You should call me. I'm usually awake too."
This close you feel Steve's warmth. His hands are dutifully planted on the tub. Every time you touch him, his hands twitch, like he wants to move. To hold. 
"Usually?" you ask. 
"I have trouble sleeping these days," he admits. "I thought—my folks are gone all the time. If anything got me, no one would know. No one would even…"
"I would," you interrupt. "I would care. And I'd do everything to get you back."
Steve's silent as you put everything away. You help him stand once more. He's wobbly, leaning on the tiles to pull off his shirt with one hand. The glimpses of freckled skin make you swallow hard. You focus on the plaid shower curtain. 
"Are you, um, hungry?" you manage. 
Steve's biceps swell as he tugs his shirt off. You turn around when you see the smattering of dark hair on his chest, refusing all temptation.
"You don't have to cook for me, Y/N. I can manage a—"
"So that's a yes."
"You should–should sleep," he mumbles, hissing at a cut or bruise. Maybe both. "I know you worked today."
"Steve." You turn around, so exasperated you have to face him. Steve's only in his briefs. Oh God. "I, uh…"
"Pervin' on me?" he smirks, hands on his hips. 
After being friends with Steve for so long, you should be used to his easy confidence. Steve's always been open with his body. You panic anyway. 
"No!" you yelp. "No. Sorry. I'm–I'm going downstairs. You're not gonna fall in, are you?"
Steve chuckles, smirk softening into a smile. 
"I think I can manage not falling in."
"Okay. Right." You leave the bathroom, closing the door almost all the way. Fuck. "Yell if you need something. Eggs okay?" 
You wait outside the door for a response. When there's none, you lean in. 
"Steve? Are you okay? Ste—"
He opens the door, tall frame blocking most of your view. You swallow hard, not knowing where to look. It's rude to stare at a guy's bare chest, right? Doubly so when he's your best friend, who's bloody and exhausted and just fought Soviets. You really are a perv.  
"Y/N, c'mon. It's nearly…" Steve squints at the clock. "Jesus, three AM?" 
"It's summer," you reason, eyes finally landing on his face. "I don't mind. I want to." Pathetic, pathetic. 
"I just—I know we haven't spoken as much lately, which is my fault," Steve starts. "And I don't wanna drag you into this shit because you're going to college soon and you don't need this on your plate on top of everything and—"
"Steve. Hey. You're my best friend. I know you're out having fun with the lunch gang and Nancy Wheeler."
Steve makes a face. 
"It's not like that with her anymore. You know that."
You hum. "Well, who's that girl at Scoops? Robin?"
"Robin, yeah." Steve smiles. "She's cool. You'd like her."
"I bet I would," you say softly, even though it hurts, hearing Steve say another girl's name.
But so what? Nothing you haven't suffered before. Last year was absolute hell, watching Steve remain stuck on Nancy. 
The worst part is you. You're the one who can't pull away, who can't let him go. Steve was your friend long before he'd been anything of Nancy's or this Robin girl's. Still, you have no right to lay claim. You know this. And yet, you're here at three in the morning, ready to make him scrambled eggs. 
Like you said. Pathetic. 
"Y/N?" 
"Huh?" 
Steve has a strange look on his face. He can't hear your heart thumping in your chest, right?  
"Sure you're not concussed?" he asks. 
He touches your forehead. You squeak, darting backwards. 
"I'm fine! Go shower. You have a lot of hair to get through."
You hurry out before Steve can respond. Your shoulders only relax when you hear the shower turn on and water rushes through the pipes. Now you can focus on making food. You're good at that. Making food holds no danger of your heartbeat ratcheting when Steve gets too close. 
The eggs turn out just how Steve likes them: softly scrambled. You also fix toast and wash some strawberries because you know for a fact Steve hasn't been eating as well as he should. 
He comes down a few minutes after you finish, still toweling his hair dry. You set the plate down at the kitchen island. He looks better, fresher. His face is still a mess but at least there's no visible blood. He wears the Talking Heads shirt you'd gotten him last year after forcing him to listen to their new album with you. On the bottom are plain blue boxers. Nothing special. Your heart palpitates. 
"Smells good," Steve says, further exhausted after the shower. "Thanks, sweet."
You swallow at the name. "N-no problem."
He bites into a strawberry first. The juice stains his lips red. You find a spot on the ceiling that's particularly riveting. 
"You cold?" he asks through a bite of egg. He dusts his hands of the toast crumbs, getting up to adjust the thermostat. 
"No, I'm fine."
"You sure? You still have your robe on, Y/N."
"Oh. Well, I wanted to… stay modest."
Steve snorts. "Modest? Are we in the eighteen hundreds? I think I can handle your bare shoulders."
"Surprised you'd know that considering how many times you skipped history last year," you shoot back. 
"Still passed, didn't I?" Steve grins triumphantly. "Solid B, baby."
"With my help."
Steve's expression melts into a fond smile. 
"Yeah. I couldn't have done any of it without you. I'm a lucky guy."
He finishes his last square of toast and starts to get up to put his plate in the sink. You quickly beat him to it, resting a hand on his shoulder so he'll stay seated. 
"Why're you so good to me?" Steve asks when you return. 
You tilt your head, leaning on his chair. "Because you're my friend and you deserve it."
"You really think that?"
Your brows knit. "Of course I do."
He shakes his head. "We haven't even hung out this month. I just got totally wrapped up in the new job and the kids and I—"
"Steve," you say. "Where's all this coming from? I know you've been busy since your dad cut you off. I'm not mad about that."
"Well, I am," he huffs. "I wanted to hang out with you more, I swear. I just didn't want to lose you. You're my best friend and I could never lose you—I don't know what I'd do if–if—"
"Hey," you soothe. "Hey, hey. Steve, it's okay. I don't know what happened… something about Russians? Whatever, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. But right now, you're exhausted. Can you try sleeping?" 
He looks at you with wet eyes. His fingers absently play with your robe belt. 
"Promise it's okay?" he asks. 
"Oh, Steve. I missed you. But you still have me. You always will, y'know?" 
He pulls you into a hug. His face nudges the pudge of your belly. You fold and cradle his head. 
"Missed you too," he mumbles. 
Steve is like a furnace, soft with residual heat from the shower. He's always felt larger than life and tonight is no different. Even battered, Steve is Steve. Hugging him feels like an out-of-body experience.
"C'mon," you coax. "You've been up for nearly twenty four hours."
He stands. You step back, trying to smile. Steve's attempt to mirror you isn't much better. He looks at your hand, then his own. 
"I'll see you in the morning? Or, well, afternoon.”
"Oh." Steve avoids your gaze, picking at a loose thread on the tablecloth. "Yeah, guess so."
"When are your folks coming back?" 
Steve deflates further. "Dunno. They haven't returned my calls. Been gone for the whole summer."
You bite the inside of your cheek. Steve is a shiny, red apple in your Garden of Eden with his still damp hair and lovingly worn shirt. You need to go home. 
"I just… I don't want to overstep," you say. You look up to the ceiling, take a deep breath. "It's really your girlfriend that should be here." 
Steve's head snaps up.  
"What? I don't have a girlfriend."
"You don't?" 
He shakes his head. 
"Nancy was my last."
Your chest lightens. Steve takes a step forward. 
"You don't have to stay," he begins. "I just—it's so empty."
Damn it. Damn it.
"I'll… I'll stay for a few minutes," you say. "Just until you fall asleep."
He brightens. There's not much to bring Steve peace. You can do this thing for him. 
And who are you kidding? You’re not exactly pulling teeth here. 
You go to his room. You haven’t been here in months, since school let out. It’s the same, more or less. There are a few more photos; of you and Steve, of Steve and who is probably Robin. He still has the same plaid theme and the framed sports car photo you’ve teased him about for as long as you’ve known him. 
Steve’s hand lands on your back. You jolt.  
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Temperature okay?”
“I’m alright,” you say. “Does your face hurt? I could get some ice. Or Advil?”
Steve’s eyes go wide. He swallows.
“No. No drugs.”
His eyes seem to cloud over. You take his hand.
“Steve? Hey, you okay?”
He exhales, lids fluttering.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m—the Russians…”
“Oh, Steve.”
You wrap your arms around him. Steve falls into your embrace, like the night has finally taken him down. His chin rests on your shoulder. You rub his back. His hair is fluffy and smells like lemon shampoo. You curl your fingers into a few strands.
“I’ve got you,” you murmur. “C’mon, Stevie.”
Slowly, Steve rises. You take him by the hand and lead him to the bed. You pull back the covers on his side. Steve slides into bed. His hair fans across the pillow. 
Steve looks like an angel. You feel temptation creep again.
“You’ll stay, right?” he asks. “For a little while?”
You smile and undo your robe belt. 
“Yes, Steve. I’ll stay.”
Steve’s seen you in pajamas and even in panties before. It’s no big deal, really. 
That’s what you tell yourself when you’re down to a big t-shirt and your underwear. 
Steve is a gentleman, of course. He doesn’t stare at you or comment. You clumsily climb into bed. 
“Hey,” he says, pointing at your shirt. “We match.”
You look down at your “Remain in Light” shirt. 
“Guess we’re meant to be,” you whisper, and immediately regret it.
But Steve smiles, eyes drooping.
“Yeah,” he hums. “Guess we are.”
You scoot up against the headboard and pat his shoulder.
“G’night, Steve.”
Steve frowns. 
“Lie down. ‘S uncomfortable sitting up.”
You chew your lip. Steve looks so earnest, eyes like starlight. You swallow and shimmy down, under the covers. 
He scoots closer. Your heart pounds.
“You want the light on?” you ask. 
He hesitates, and you know he’s debating between being brave or being comfortable. You choose for him.
“I like the light on,” you say, and he relaxes.
There’s only a couple inches of space between you. Steve is soft and yours, bathed in orange light. You want to kiss him. You want a lot of things you can’t have.
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Steve.” 
He pats the pillow for your hand. You link your fingers together.
“I’m happy I know you, Y/N,” he replies.
And there, in the dim light, safe under the covers that smell so much like Steve, you want to tell him. You want to tell him so badly how much you love him. How sick you feel seeing him bruised and bloodied. How you never want to see him like that again.
“Steve,” you whisper.
“Hmm?”
“I–” 
The words crush your throat. God, he’s beautiful. You can’t lose him.
“Y/N?”
“Nothing,” you say in a rush of breath. “Never mind. Sorry. Go to sleep.”
Steve stares at you for a long moment. You gnaw the inside of your cheek. 
“I thought about you,” he finally says. “When I was down there. I thought about you.”
“Steve?” 
He closes the last few inches between you.
“I thought about what I’d say if I saw you again. What I’d do.”
“Steve,” you warn. 
Steve reaches for your cheek. Your breath stutters.
“You’re exhausted,” you remind him. “Y-you’re not thinking clearly.”
“I am,” he promises. “Been thinking clearly for a while now.”
And then Steve kisses you. It’s chaste, barely a press of lips. You’re careful of his cut. His lips are chapped and smell like mint and antiseptic. Steve shifts closer and grunts. You pull back, instinctively cradling his ribs.
“Careful,” you say. “Careful, Steve.”
He smiles.
“You’re so good to me,” he says. 
You lean in and rest your forehead on his. 
“Always.” 
He kisses your cheek again, unsure and fumbling like you’re his first. It’s sweet. God, he’s sweet. 
“Please stay,” Steve whispers.
You nod. 
“I will.”
You always do.
555 notes · View notes
acasualcrossfade · 6 months
Text
Pillows on the Floor
Sicktember Day 25:  Confused/Disoriented
Stranger Things: Steve Harrington/ Eddie Munson
Words: 500 | Rating: M | CW: mild cursing, mentions of violent nightmares, effects of violent nightmares, mentions of blood and physical harm
@sicktember
Summary: Steve is wary of sleeping next to Eddie again after Steve’s nightmare hurts the both of them.
Find me on Ao3!
--
Eddie was already in bed when Steve exited the bathroom. In the soft lamp light of the bedroom, Steve could make out the healing scratches criss-crossed over Eddie’s arms. 
“You comin’ to bed?” Eddie asked. His brown eyes were filled with concern. 
“Not tonight.”
Eddie’s shoulders sagged. “Can you at least talk to me?”
Steve paused. He’d given Eddie the silent treatment for the past few days; all he could see when he looked at Eddie was how he’d hurt him. It’d been three nights of Steve sleeping downstairs.
Steve remembered the entire ordeal. He remembered the dream and how he’d been tied down, the buzzing of a bone saw in his ears. He remembered snapping awake screaming hoarsely, then arms around him, holding him. Steve was confined again, trapped again, and he thrashed to get away, to escape. Steve clawed at what held him, fighting against Eddie’s arms.
It wasn’t until Steve fell against the cold hardwood gasping in deep breaths that he heard Eddie’s pained moans from the bed. 
It wasn’t until Eddie clicked on the bedside lamp that Steve saw what he’d done.
“Steve?”
Eddie’s voice pulled Steve from the memory.
“It’s okay, they’re healing,” Eddie’s voice said gently.
“S’not that.” Steve’s voice was low, but he carefully sat on the edge of the bed next to Eddie. 
“Then what is it?”
Steve kept his gaze on the floor. “I freaked out, Eddie. I freaked and I hurt you.”
“I was the one that grabbed you,” Eddie admitted. “Stupid move, but I didn’t want you to fall head first off the bed. Wasn’t thinking.”
“You were trying to help, and I hurt you instead.”
Eddie reached his hand across the blanket, but paused halfway to Steve’s.
Steve glanced at Eddie’s hand and then slowly closed the distance between them as he poked Eddie’s hand with his own. 
They clasped their hands together, fingers intertwining and winding together. For a moment, Steve relished in Eddie’s presence.
Then, Steve spoke the words that kept fear cemented in his heart.
“It could be worse next time.” 
Eddie’s hand squeezed his hand in response and traced Steve’s knuckles gently. “We saw some dark shit over there. You more than me,” Eddie said. “And next time, maybe there’ll be pillows on the floor instead.”
Steve looked up suddenly in surprised confusion.  “Pillows on the floor?” “Yeah, if you’re going to be falling out of bed, you’ll at least land on something soft.”
Steve blinked. He’d never thought of that. “Like the couch cushions?” 
 “Actually, that would work. Want to try it?”
Steve nodded and so it was set up. As Steve carried a cushion and set it by the bed, he felt a weight shift and lift from him. 
He’d have something to catch him. 
The thought brought comfort, and it was easier to crawl into bed next to Eddie. It was easier to nudge into Eddie’s embrace.
In Eddie’s arms, Steve found sleep easier than he had in a long time.
121 notes · View notes
tartarusknight · 1 year
Text
5 times Steve had to prove he was worth love + 1 time someone just loved him without needing him to.
_1_
I've been falling much more deep Than I wanna I've been wishing I could breathe Underwater I hold my breath I can't see what comes next I don't know when I'll see dry land again
__Nancy and Jonathan__
His relationship with Nancy had been blooming. It had made him feel giddy whenever he thought about it. He had been striving to prove himself to her. That he loved her. That he wasn’t just some stupid guy working his way through the girls in Hawkins High.
But all of it was over now.
Steve had seen Nancy with Jonathan’s arm around her. He had seen a moment that he wasn’t meant to see and felt the ground crumble underneath him. Any thoughts about the kind Nancy Wheeler, the one who looked at him with adorably innocent eyes, were gone. He had stumbled down and did what he did best. Put on a fake emotion to hide what he was feeling.
The crushing hurt, the heartbreak. It all was masked under annoyance that turned into anger as Tommy and Carol stood by him. Those feelings had stuck with him until he was on the ground, Jonathan straddling him. The anger died then. Too much guilt mixed with the hurt until he was telling Tommy and Carol to fuck off in a desperate attempt to prove that he wasn’t the type of person who’d do what he just did.
He had gone home and had begged for someone, anyone, to show him how to be good. Steve had known that Tommy and Carol weren’t good, that they weren’t kind. But was he? No, no he was an asshole and he knew it. That’s why he hadn’t let himself simmer in the quiet house. It’s why he had turned on his car and driven to the Byer’s house.
He had seen the Christmas lights through the window before he knocked. “Jonathan? Are you there, man? It’s Steve! Listen I just want to talk!” He shouted through the closed door. He paused before knocking once more. Except it wasn’t Jonathan but Nancy who opened the door. “Hey, uh, Nancy?” He felt his heart drop. He had gone to Jonathan’s first because it would be simpler. Apologizing to Nancy would be harder and he wasn’t ready to see her disappointment.
“Steve, listen to me, you need to leave.” She ordered, her voice not leaving any room for arguments but Steve needed to fight this.
He put his hand up, “no, no, I’m not here to start anything, okay?”
She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care about that.” And she looked completely annoyed. It made Steve want to crawl into a hole and die if he was honest. “You need to leave, right now.”
“No, no, no, I- I- I messed up, okay? I messed up.” He said, unsure of what to say to her. Of how to start the conversation.  “Really, please, I just want to make things right.” His voice quieted and her eyes softened, leaving only worry behind.
But that made him worry. Because why was she worried? Then he saw her hand and everything became worse. “Wh- Hey, what happened to your hand?” His voice went so soft that it surprised him. He reached out to touch her but she pulled away. “Is that blood?”
“Nothing, it was an accident.” She stammered and he could see the lie in her face.
And it didn’t matter if she didn’t like him how he liked her. He could still be there for her. “What’s going on?” He asked, desperately hoping she’d let him in.
But her face went stony, “nothing.”
As she glanced back into the house his worries grew. He remembered hearing about how Lonnie Byers was a violent man. How he never treated those he loved well but how Lonnie was still seen as a good person. Steve had never understood and now, standing here he wondered if Jonathan was the same way. Steve already knew he packed a mean punch. “Wait a sec. Did he do this to you?”
Her eyes grew wide and worried, “no.” It was sharper this time and Steve thought understood what she was worried about.
“Nancy, let me in!” He pushed his way through and froze at the sight of everything around him. “What is… what the f-” he murmured as he noticed Christmas lights around everything. A baseball bat with nails hammered into it.
Jonathan moved fast and shoved at him. “You need to get out of here.” Jonathan’s voice was dark and he pushed Steve towards the door. But it only made Steve’s eyes catch on the matching bandage. “Listen to me. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, get out of here!”
“What is this? What is that smell?” He was starting to panic and as he glanced around. “Is that- is that gasoline?”
As he struggles against Jonathan he glances at Nancy. “Steve,” she snaps and he hears the cock of a gun as she points a pistol at him. “Get out!”
Jonathan backs off of him to get out of the line of fire and Steve’s unsure of everything now. “What? What is going on!”
Nancy doesn’t look completely confident but that isn’t comforting. “You have five seconds to get out of here.” She snaps and he waves his hands frantically around himself.
“Okay, is this a joke? Stop. Put the gun down.” He tries and the lights flair to life around them.
“I’m doing this for you,” she says and actually looks guilty about it all. Like she wasn’t aiming a gun at him.
Jonathan’s trying to get her attention as he tries to get a sense of what was happening. Nancy counting down like she’s ready to shoot him if he doesn’t leave. “Nancy! The lights!” Jonathan shouts and it’s the first time Steve’s heard him yell. “It’s here,” Jonathan stumbles to the nail bat.
“Wait, what’s here?” He questions but they don’t pay him any attention. They are watching the walls like something was going to jump out at them. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going-”
He’s cut off by the ceiling caving in. Not just caving in. But it’s like something was breaking through. A white creature that Nancy aims and shoots at quickly. It steals Steve’s breath away and he’s sure he’s about to die. He vaguely watches Jonathan pull Nancy back just as the creature hits the ground, snarling at them. “Get out of here!” Jonathan grabs his hand and pulls him along. “Jump!” Jonathan warns and Steve barely sees the bear trap in time. He just runs after the other two listening to the creature roar behind him.
But the silence was worse. It made his panic bubble and explode because there was a monster that broke through the ceiling. Except now the ceiling was fixed and he’s wondering if accidentally smoked some back weed. And as Nancy snaps at him to just leave, he listens. He stumbles out to the car and drops his keys in his panic.
Then his door is open and he’s looking back at the house. God, he just wanted to apologize. He didn’t need this shit. But then the lights are flickering. He thinks of Nancy’s worry and how they were determined to fight this thing. “Jonathan!” Maybe he’s an asshole but he can’t let them face it alone. He runs back in at the sound of gunfire and snarling. Seeing Jonathan on the ground, the nail bat just a few feet from him. Nancy back away from the creature that was moving towards her.
He doesn’t know if Jonathan’s hurt but right now, Nancy’s okay and he’ll keep it that way. Steve picks up the bat and jumps between Nancy and the creature as Nancy’s gun clicks again and again. He smacks it hard and moves to keep it away from the other two. He knew they needed it in the bear trap. So, he was determined to force it into the bear trap. Swing, move, dodge. The thing's long arms almost hit him as he has to get in close to hit the damn thing.
It feels like a life time until he hears the clang of the metal and watches it falter from the bite of the bear trap. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” He shouts.
Nancy moved next to him, “Jonathan now!” She yells and Steve’s relieved to see Jonathan up and moving. He tosses his lighter onto the gasoline he had smelled and the creature went up in flames. But as Jonathan puts out the fire and the smoke clears, the creature is gone.
Steve swears under his breath but then the lights are back on. He stays in front of them and but the lights stay gentle. Just a glow instead of the intense flashing and as Jonathan whispers, “mom?” Steve lets him in front. He has no clue what’s happening but Jonathan looks relaxed.
They stand there for a moment before Steve feels a hand grip his arm. He glances down at Nancy and she gives him a watery smile. She mouths ‘thank you’ and he just nods. He lets them head inside and for a moment he thinks about leaving again, but he pushes that aside. He just leans against the wall out there, letting it wash over him.
And later as they get the call about Will, he offers to drive. Jonathan packs a few things for Will before they both get into his back seat. He drives faster than normal but it’s not the biggest worry in his mind. As they get there and they stumble out, they pause. “You saved my life,” Jonathan says softly and Steve’s unsure what to say.
He swallows, “yeah, well, I figured I owed you one… and well that was a better apology than anything I could’ve said.” They looked shocked for a moment before he smiles, “go see your brother, man. You deserve it,” he grins and Jonathan nods, jogging towards the hospital.
“You’re a better man than I thought you were, Steve Harrington.” Nancy smiles and Steve blinks. “Keep going like this and I might just think you’re a good one.” She murmurs and he thinks maybe he can prove that he is good. She nods to the building and he’s about to say no when Nancy grabs his hand. “Keep proving it to me?”
Steve shuts the door to his car and locks it. “Yeah, I can do that.”
_2_
Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim, swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.
__Dustin and Lucas__
Steve knows he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But at the same time, he was in the right place at the right time. Because as he sits in the junkyard school bus with Dustin, Lucas, and Max, he knows they’re better off because he’s here. Sure, they’re not completely safe. Sure, there are better people they could’ve gotten. And sure, he probably lost his chance with Nancy. But right now, he’s protecting these little shits with all his heart.
A painfully familiar sound cuts through the air and he’s up on his feet before he can really think about it. Looking out into the fog and feels dread in his bones. “10 o’clock! 10 o’clock!” Lucas’s voice goes up in pitch and Steve knows the kid is scared. Hell, Steve’s terrified. But he looks out and points out the monster to Dustin. For a moment he’s just glad it’s not 7 feet tall this time.
But then that little bit of relief dies because “he’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?” He questions and there’s a sinking feeling in his chest.
Dustin glances at him and he looks confused too. “Maybe he’s not hungry.” He says softly and something clicks in his mind. And he knows that him just being here won’t be enough, but he has to try.
“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He backs up from the window and it takes a second to completely hit him. But he knows what he has to do. He steels himself and heads to the door.
“Steve?” Dustin moves like he’s going to follow him but then he stops like he can’t move any further. Steve thought back to school when they taught flight or fight. The response to fear… no one ever talked about freezing up. But it happened to everyone. “Steve, what are you doing?” There’s worry in his tone but Steve knows he has to protect these goddamn kids. “Steve?”
He looks back to Dustin and pulls out his lighter, “Just get ready.” He says and tosses the lighter before he heads out the door.
He hears the door shut behind him and he feels something settle in his chest. He was helping. He was proving to these kids that he could help them. So, he whistles and calls out for the dog-looking creature as he gets up to the pile of meat. “Human taste better than cat, I promise.” He says before the fog clears just enough that can see the thing.
“Steve! Watch out!” Lucas shrieks like Steve wasn’t already completely focused on the target.
He huffs and swings the bat a little, “a little busy here.” He calls back.
But then Lucas says something that makes his entire body flood with fear. “3 o’clock! 3 o’clock!” The thing in front of him hasn’t moved. So, as he glances over and sees 2 more, his panic builds.
Dustin’s calling his name and Steve hopes he won’t get murdered in front of a bunch of middle schoolers. “Abort, abort!” Dustin yells but then the thing is growling at him.
He turns his focus back on the creatures and all at once they rush toward him. He dodges the first, rolls over the hood of a car to dodge the second, and hits the third with his bat. He takes the moment to turn and run. Everything in his body screamed at him to move faster, to be faster. They snarl behind him and all the kids are at the door waiting for him as he jumps in. Slamming it shut and holding it there with his legs. Thankful that he doesn’t skip leg day.
He puts a piece of metal in front of the door as the kids devolve into panicked chatter. It makes him think of his own freaked-out yells back at the Byers’. The whole bus rocks as they slam into it and Steve looks at these three kids. But then one is clawing through. He takes his bat to it repeatedly as the kids back up. Except then things are surrounding the bus and Steve’s not sure he has this under control.
He hears one get onto the roof followed by Max’s screams. He shoves Max out of the way as quickly as he can. Putting himself between him and the damn thing. Once again putting himself between someone and a monster. It roars and the flower petal mouth brings up all the worst memories. But then as the bus rocks one last time the things run off. He’s shaking as it gets so quiet so quickly. Then kids all stand up and look around the best they can through the slots of metal. “What happened?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t know,” Max mutters and she sounds shaken.
“Steve scared ‘em off?” Dustin offered.
Steve shook his head, “no. No way. They’re going somewhere.” He looks back at them, and they all look scared.
They all stand there for a minute and Steve lets the bat hit the ground. However, he’s surprised by Dustin barreling into him. He’s unprepared for the hug and he stands there shocked for a long moment before Dustin pulls back. “You were going to die for us.”
Steve raises an eyebrow to hide the emotions inside, “I mean I was gonna try to live.” He drawls and Dustin smiles up at him.
“The Steve Harrington was willing to die for me.” Dustin is grinning now and Steve rolls his eyes. Steve reaches out and ruffles his hair the best he could with the hat on his head. “Guess your not just a douchebag... suppose I should keep you around.”
Steve snorts, “well I am your ride. Come on, let's get moving.” He calls out and watches Lucas and Max snap out of whatever moment they were having.
_3_
I've been drowning in these sheets Feeling lonely Wishing you were here with me Every morning Over my head The tide comes rolling in I don't know when I'll see dry land again.
__Hopper, Joyce, Mike, and Max__
Steve leans against the wall on the floor of the Byers’ house. His vision is wobbly but he keeps his eyes on the unconscious form of Billy Hargrove. The kids are all around him and he’s got Dustin under one of his arms. Mike is sitting mostly by himself, eyes trained on the door. Max is on Steve’s other side, not touching but not too far away and Lucas was on her other side. All of them were exhausted but unwilling to fall asleep before they learned if they were successful today. If they won or lost.
“I’m sorry,” Max breaks the silence and Steve drags his eyes away from Billy. He looks at her but she isn’t looking at him. Her eyes on trained on her lap and he wonders if she’s talking to him or someone else. “If I hadn’t been here you wouldn’t have- Billy wouldn’t have-” she starts and Steve knows the other kids are staring.
He just reaches out and pulls her so she’s tucked under his other arm. “It’s fine. I’ve been wanting to punch him since I met him.” He grins down at her and she has a slight smile on her face.
He’s starting to struggle to stay awake but he has all the kids next to him. Well, not all. “Mike,” he says and the boy glances over. “Get over here,” he huffs and Mike blinks like he’s surprised. “Come on, over here.” He jerks his head to Dustin but it makes everything a blur. He has to freeze, his entire body tensing up. But once he’s back into his body, Mike’s on Dustin’s other side. All of them together. Steve’s hands are on Lucas and Mike’s shoulders while Dustin and Max curl up into his torso. Steve notices one by one the kids falling asleep and he’s glad. They needed it. He would love to sleep but he forces himself to keep an eye on Billy and the door.
They stay that way until the door opens and Joyce comes in. She’s holding the door as Jonathan and Nancy support Will. None of the kids move a muscle and Joyce goes quiet when she spots them. He gives her a tired smile but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if he could with Max and Dustin holding onto him. They disappear down the hall but Nancy reappears. She pauses and looks at him. He smiles back, “done?” He mouths and she nods.
She jerks her thumb at the knocked-out Billy and Steve just mouths, “Drugs.”
Nancy’s mouth twitches like she’s stopping a smile from forming on her face. “You alright?” She mouths to him and he gives her a weak smile in return. Eventually, she disappears again and Steve tries to rest his head against the wall but it makes his head burn. So, he just keeps his eyes trained on the chaos. Soon enough, Nancy and Jonathan reappear and they struggle to pull Billy out of the house. Steve would help but he knew he wouldn’t be much help.
When she gets back, Jonathan gives her hand a squeeze before he’s heading back toward where his brother and mom are. Then Nancy’s moving over to Steve and the kids. She moves and sits down next to Mike. Her arm wraps around Mike and the kid doesn’t wake, just leans into her. They stay in silence and Steve feels himself nodding off.
He’s not sure if he actually falls asleep but he jerks into awareness when Hopper gets back with El. El’s in his arms and Steve’s instantly worried. However, as she’s lowered onto the couch, Hopper notices him. “She’s just tired,” he says softly and Steve relaxes slightly. But he isn’t the only one who woke up to Hopper’s return. The kids all seem to awake and then they're talking. Nancy tells them Will’s okay as Hopper does the same for El.
It’s loud and Steve can’t seem to move from his spot on the ground. He hears Nancy talk about what happened and the kids tell the others what happened on their side. But then it goes quiet. He barely even noticed until he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hmm?” He questions and blinks to see Hopper looking him over. “Lookin’ at m’pretty face?” His words feel slurred and he knows that’s not the best, but he’s too tired to worry.
“Did anyone look you over?” Hopper questions and Steve snorts. It makes his nose burn and he lets his eyes close.
“Kids bandaged me up,” he jokes. Referring to the colorful bandages they slapped on him before they went into the tunnels.
“Steve let’s get you up,” Hopper orders and Steve groans.
Hopper’s hands try to help him but each move makes his brain swirl like a soup bowl. “No, m‘fine here. M’dizzy,” He groans but then Nancy’s also helping him to his feet. As soon as he’s on his feet his stomach rebels and he gags. Suddenly he’s moving fast with the other two helping out the door. He heaves the small amount of shit he’s eaten that day onto the lawn.
“I’m gonna drive him to the hospital,” Hopper states, and Steve whines. “No, it’s not an option kid. Keep an eye on the kids.”
“Is he going to be, okay?” Max questions.
“He was fine earlier,” Dustin says nervously.
Steve lets himself be manhandled toward the truck. “Adrenaline probably’s worn off. I’m sure he’s fine,” Hopper assures and Steve nods in agreement. It makes the older man snort. “Come on,” he orders and Steve gets some help getting into the truck.
As Hopper drives, Steve just leans against the window. “Kid, I want you to stay awake. I’m no doctor, but even I know it’s not good to sleep with a head injury.” Hopper states and Steve groans. “Shh, I don’t care, just listen to me.”
Steve hums, “I already slept.” He groans and Hopper huffs. He looks over and Hopper’s face is a mess of emotions. “M’sorry about tunnels.”
Hopper looked over and he had something on his face, but it wasn’t anger. “Kid… I know it wasn’t your idea about the tunnels. Just thank you for keeping an eye on them. Joyce and I really appreciate it… You’re a good kid.” He says and Steve blinks, feeling tears welling up.
Hopper clears his throat, “And well, I know you were trouble in the past. Parties, alcohol, fights… But you’ve really stepped it up. You’re becoming a role model these kids need.” Steve looked down at his hands and everything was blurry. Whether it was tears or just dizziness he didn’t know. “That’s why you’re going to be fine. Cause you have to be,” Hopper’s voice is gruff and Steve gives him a jerky nod before he sinks into the seat of the truck. “So, stay awake.” Steve nods but his eyes shut anyways.
_4_
Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim. Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.
__Robin__
Steve had his back to Robin, tied to each other, to chairs. Knocked over laying on the ground. He felt like shit but he couldn’t really focus on that right now. Not when there were problems at hand. “Robin, are you laughing?” He groans and she continues to laugh.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” she laughs but then tries to calm herself. “It’s just- I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy man.” She starts laughing again and he lets his head rest on the cool tile.
“We’re not gonna die,” he says but it’s a lie. He can’t think of a single way they're making it out of here. That’s why he tried to stay behind alone. But once again he wasn’t strong enough.
First, it was running away from the Demogorgon. Then Max came in to save his ass. And now it was how he couldn’t even block a door by himself. It was pathetic… he tries to stay positive and tries to think but then Robin’s still talking. Not an escape plan that would probably fail but about sophomore history class. “I sat behind you 2 days a week for a year. Mister funny. Mister cool. The king of Hawkins High himself.” She makes it harder to breathe as her tone goes darker.
“Do you even remember me from that class?” She asks but they both know the answer. He sits in his self-hatred as she scoffs, “Of course, you don’t. You were a real asshole, you know that?”
He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Yeah, I know.”
She swallows, “But it didn’t even matter- it didn’t matter that you were an ass. I was still obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular. Accepted. Normal.”
Steve feels like he might break down if he lets her continue. But he knows the right thing to do is let her tell him off. He can’t bury the past. He can’t pretend he wasn’t an asshole. She had every right to bring it up. “If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great.” He admits and tries to hide the emotion swirling in his chest, “Seriously. It just baffles me… everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it's all just…” A small laugh escapes him, full of pain. Seeing Nancy’s righteous fury as she looked up at him and said “Bullshit.”
He feels exhausted and sighs, “but I guess you’ve got to mess up to figure things out, right?”
She shifts a little to lean more against him and the closeness makes it a little easier. “I hope so, I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.” She laughs and so does he, even though it’s sadder than funny. Maybe in a better world, they’d be able to laugh about this, years down the line. But the truth was, Steve, expected to die here and he knew Robin did too. Even as they dream about meeting each other earlier. As they wish they never learned about the Russians under their feet.
“Gotta say though, I liked being your schmuck,” he chuckled. In a better world, Steve could’ve proved himself in a different way. But in the end, he’s never really been able to prove himself outside of life-and-death situations. Destined to be alone or never able to truly relax because the next near-death experience will bring another person into his life. He sits there and for this moment… he wanted to be her shmuck. “It was fun while it lasted.”
Robin’s shoulder presses into his and it’s a comfort, “it was.”
***
Steve had sat in his house all alone after getting home. After Russian torture, Monsters, doctors, and government cover-ups. He had taken a shower and curled up on his couch until the sun rose into the sky. Still, he didn’t move. He didn’t know if he had the energy anymore. He had gotten checked over but his brain was too scrambled to really know how he was supposed to do to take care of himself. He was just too exhausted from it all.
Yet around noon, a knock came on his door. He didn’t move until whoever it was knocked again. He pushed himself up and groaned at the movement. When he opened the door, it was to Robin. She stood there in a Madonna tee and baggy shorts. “Hey,” she murmurs and he steps aside to let her in. He walks back to the couch and lowers himself with a groan. “Are you taking any pain medication?” She questions and he glances over to the bag on the coffee table, full of everything they gave him.
He sighs, “Mostly just trying to lay here until I either heal or die.” He smirks and she smiles back at him.
But then she grabs the back and digs through it. Reading a pamphlet and organizing the few bottles on the table. “Steve,” she says and he glanced over here. “You’re not okay, are you?”
Steve sighs and looks back up at the ceiling. “No, I’m really not.”
She’s quiet but then she’s shifting until she is laying down as well. Her head by his, their feet dangling over the side of the couch. “What- why are you here?” He can’t help but ask as they fall into a comfortable silence.
Robin doesn't say anything for a long moment and Steve’s just about to take it back when she sighs. “I told you my deepest, darkest secret…”
Steve shifts his head and looks at her. She turns hers and their faces are inches apart. “Just because I was high doesn’t mean my opinion’s changed, Robin. You like boobies, big deal. So do I…” he pauses and looks back up at the ceiling.
He clears his throat, “I mean I don’t get it. Not really. Never seeing someone as attractive. Like seriously, some guys are ridiculously attractive.” He shrugs, “but to each your own.”
Robin sucks in sharply and Steve winces as she sits up quickly. But she’s not moving away from him. Instead, she’s on her elbows, hovering over him and forcing eye contact. Her face is completely serious, “Steve Harrington, did you just… come out to me?”
He frowns, “I guess.”
Her expression melts into a grin. “You know, for someone who was an asshole, you’ve got a lot of depth.”
“Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” He jokes and she looks so happy at his words.
She shrugs a little and shifts to lie back down next to him. “Ehh, you’ve proved to me that you’re not… you’re a surprisingly good person.”
He lets his eyes close at her words, “thanks I guess.”
“It’s a compliment!” She promises and he nods, letting the words sink in. They settle just like all of the others before.
_5_
I will never get over you.
Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me.
__Eddie__
Steve walked side by side with Eddie through the Upside Down. “I guess I couldn’t accept the fact the Steeeve Harrington was actually… a good dude.” Steve looks to the ground, feeling that old familiar feeling stir in his chest. But Eddie had every right to hold those grudges. Steve didn’t know if he ever actually did anything to the guy, but he probably didn’t stop anything either. “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine,” Eddie says.
And Steve thinks, maybe he was doomed to be an asshole from the start. Maybe it was just who he was meant to be. Thinking about it, it makes sense. Maybe no matter how much he proves himself, he’ll still be a rich kid who peaked in high school. No matter how much growth, he’d always have that obstacle to overcome.
Then Eddie leaned in closer, so close that Steve had to lean back a little to stop them from touching. “Still super jealous as hell, by the way.” He grins at Steve and Steve can’t help but smile back. Even in this hellscape with his head foggy from pain and the world blurry after he pulled out his ruined contacts after he faced yet another near-death experience… he smiles back. Eddie’s got a good smile, a nice smile.
Steve bumped him back and swallowed back the emotions swirling through him. “That’s why I would’ve never jumped in to save your ass. Not under any, uh… normal circumstances.” Eddie just kept talking, walking right next to him. There’s a noise off to the right and Steve directs the flashlight in that direction, but it’s just more of the decaying landscape. Eddie looks scared for a moment as they stop talking. It makes Steve want to ask him to keep talking. To keep filling the space between them…
Eddie cleared his throat like he heard Steve’s silent prayers. But maybe Eddie needed to fill the silence too. “Nope, outside of d&d I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.” He says, sounding so guilty that Steve could taste it.
Steve can’t stop himself before he pats Eddie’s chest. “Give yourself a break, man. We all run the first time,” he states and his words seem to hit Eddie.
“You’re telling me that, you, Steve Harrington, the man who just bit one of these creatures, ran the first time,” Eddie says and his voice is so unbelieving that Steve can’t help but snort.
He looks over and knocks their shoulders together. “Yeah, I did,” he sighs. He pictures running from Jonathan, Tommy, and the Demogorgon. He thinks of how he avoided Billy, his parents, and anything about the Upside Down. But then he remembers going to help Dustin figure out the Russians, getting them out of the elevator, knocking out the guard, holding the door, taking the hits… Steve learned to push past his own cowardice.
Steve sighs, “Eddie, you ran and it’s okay. Jesus, it’s okay to run from this shit. Sometimes running means, you live.” He states, picturing all of the people who died fighting. Billy comes to mind. The guy holding his ground. Planting his feet and facing the monster for them. Dying painfully in Max’s arms.
“Sometimes running means someone else dies,” Eddie says and Steve looks over at him. The bags under his eyes. The haunted look that was, no doubt, reflected on his own face.
He looks at the ground, “the first time this stuff happened… someone died in my backyard. She was there for a party and while I was upstairs fucking her best friend, she was being torn apart. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight, man, I didn’t even know it happened. Once again my ability to stand off to the side of everything, got someone hurt... She was there for a party I threw after a kid went missing and I didn’t even care that she was missing the next day.” Steve rambled and felt the old guilt building up. “I was too worried about my parents and- Nancy was right it was bullshit.”
Steve looks over at Eddie, he looks surprised and Steve gives him a small smile. “So, sure, you ran but at least you tried to save her. And I get that it’s easier to blame yourself than to feel like you couldn’t have done anything to save her. But don’t go and do something stupid to make up for it.” His voice goes quiet and Steve glances down at his bandages that were slowly turning red. “Cause dying isn’t going to bring her back.”
Eddie clears his throat, “wow. I- uh, you’re surprisingly wise, man.” He sounds emotional and unsure of himself.
Steve sighs, “nah. I just graduated.” He teases and gets a shove for it. He laughs and Eddie snorts like he couldn’t believe him. He’s got a small smile on his face and he rolls his eyes at Steve. It’s lighthearted and it makes this hellscape feel a little bit lighter.
They fall into silence and Steve breaks it. “But just, thanks for coming in after me.”
Eddie shakes his head, “I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Those ladies, they jumped right in after you. They didn’t waste a second. Didn’t even hesitate.” Steve blinks and looks ahead at the girls. “I don’t know what happened between you and Wheeler or what your deal with Buckley is, but… you’ve got two ladies who are willing to die for you. That’s love... It’s a sign of love if I’ve ever seen it.”
Steve blinks and then he sighs, “Honestly, I would’ve rather you guys run than dive in after me.”
Eddie moves to grab his shoulder, making them pause. He looks back at Eddie, raising an eyebrow. “Well, sucks, man. We came in after you. And now you have to deal with us.”
It makes Steve smile, “trauma bonds us, huh?”
Eddie laughs, “Yeah, Harrington. You got a friend today because of this shit.” It’s not a surprise to Steve. He always seems to get friends from this shit.
“Okay, Munson, sounds like a plan.” Before they can say anymore the earth shakes and Steve holds onto Eddie. They keep each other up as Robin yells for Nancy to come back.
_+1_
Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim. Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.
I will never get over you.
__Eleven__
Steve didn’t have the same childhood as others did. He spent most of his childhood in the back of a car or on a plane. Moving everywhere with his busy parents. He spent more time in a hotel room with his mom than time in his actual house. His mom would put something in front of him and then she’d put as much distance as she could between them.
Once he started school it changed. His mom brought him home and he got used to staying in one place. He met other kids and adults who actually liked their kids. But as he grew up, he began to understand what he had missed all his life.
You’re told that from the minute you’re born, your parents love you. But Steve knew that wasn’t the truth. Just like everyone else, you had to prove yourself to them. Just like a teacher, you had to prove that you were good enough to be loved by them.
And as Steve grew up, he joined sports, played piano to make his mom smile, he learned to use his words to charm everyone. But his parents never believed his charm. It was never enough. Steve was never enough. Eventually not even his mom stayed home with him. It was just Steve in that house. He had tried and tried to be who they wanted but it was never enough. So, he started to act out. He did stupid shit just so they would come home. Even though it was only ever for an argument.
He wanted to prove that he was enough. That he was worth their love. But he never managed it. Over time he learned that was okay. He’ll never prove himself to them, but he can keep proving himself to the family he got through pain and bloodshed. The people he was able to show his love to. The people that were able to love him regardless of his faults.
He drove the kids everywhere they wanted to go. He looked after them so Joyce and Hopper could have a night out. He listened to Robin and supported her through her developing feelings for Nancy. He held Nancy after she and Jonathan broke up. Told her about bisexuality and gently pushed her and Robin closer. He distracted everyone to give Jonathan time to sneak out with Argyle so they could go relax. He sat next to Max’s bed so Lucas and Erica could go get some rest. He talked to Max quietly as she woke up disoriented and sore. He sat with Wayne next to Eddie after the idiot still went to prove himself. He volunteered at the school and pushed himself as much as he could to be the person everyone needed. There was no time to be anything less.
Still, he couldn’t stop the way his body was slowing down. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. How could he when everything else was so much more important? Instead, he said that he’d spend some time at the cabin with El who was once again in lockdown. He made his way through the forest and knocked the weird knock. The door swung open and El stood there looking tired but happy to see him. “Hey, kid,” He greets and heads inside.
“Hello,” she says softly back. It’s shy but kind. It’s expected. Steve hasn’t hung around El too much and never alone. He only really knew her through stories from the others.
“So, what do you want to do? What do you normally do? I uh- I’m not uh…” He trailed off as she grabbed a bowl of already-made popcorn and pulled him over to the couch.
She looked over at him with those big eyes of hers. “I do not have lots of experience with hangouts. Max and I…” she trailed off, her eyes growing watery. He shifts and pulls her into his side.
He clears his throat, “well, I have some. Robin and I do dumb shit together all the time.” He looked over at this girl who hadn’t really had a chance to be a teenage girl and hang out with other girls. Being surrounded by boys who weren’t going to teach her to lean into her feminine side.
He sucked in a sharp breath, “You deserve a girls' night and while I’m not a girl, I can do my best.” She looked confused as he stood up from the couch. He groaned as the movements made his bites pull. “Now, where is your nail polish? That always seems like a good start. I’m going into the kitchen to see what you have to make face masks.” She blinked up at him before her face cracked into a grin.
As he mixes up the oats, using the recipe Robin had told him oh so long ago. El moves around him, the movie long forgotten. “Alright, so I know the next step is talking about crushes and that shit.” He states twirling around to look at El. He easily applies it to her face and he pulled his hair into a half up/half down to keep it out of the mask. “Everything we say is safe and stays within the girl night.” He grins, leaning into overdramatic just so she’ll laugh.
“I uh, broke up with Mike.” She admits and Steve leans over to take a hand of hers to start applying the soft yellow polish.
He hums, “and how are you feeling about it?”
Her mouth twists as she tries to find her words. “I think, I think it is good. But I still love him in a way.”
Steve nods, “love doesn’t just go away. When Nancy and I broke up I went insane. For months I was always upset but then I decided to sleep around to see if that would make me feel better. It didn’t so I don’t think you should go down that road.” He teases and she smiles at him. “But even now I love her. But it’s not romantic love anymore.” He shrugs and sticks his tongue out in concentration.
“I don’t think I love him in a romantic way. But knowing if you love someone in an uh," she paused and looked at him before slowly saying, "romantic(?) way is hard,” She sighs. He nods in agreement; it seems to get her to keep talking. “I thought I loved him in a romantic way but it feels like when I see Will. And Will is my brother… Max, I thought-” she cuts herself off with a sigh. “I thought I liked her but I am happy that she is with Lucas. They are quite cute together. I do not think I understand love.”
Steve pictures Eddie's big smile as he said, big boy. “Love is hard, but sometimes to figure out who you love you have to look at those you already understand.”
She looked confused and Steve smiles at her, moving to her other hand. “I loved Nancy, I know I did. But I understood that I liked men by comparing my feelings when she smiled at me too when a guy would get in my space. But I also thought I loved Robin until she fit firmly next to Dustin in my heart. And with Eddie he easily took up the space Nancy left behind.” He admits and her eyes are wide. “So take two people you know for sure and compare everyone else to them.” He says and she nods, brow pinched.
“Will is my brother, I do not want to kiss him.” She states, “Mike used to make me feel like…” she pulled her hands back and mimed shimming and grinning like a lunatic. He couldn’t help but laugh and she gave him her hand once again. “Lucas is like Will, I love him but I do not feel like that with him. Mike, as you said, left space in my heart. But he feels more like a friend.” She nods and he’s proud of how she sorts through people. She frowns, “Max makes me happy but I do not want to kiss her. I want her to be happy and I want to hang out with her.”
She frowns, “Dustin is my friend. He makes me happy. He makes me feel loved and strong.” She says softly, “I do not know… Steve?” She asks and she sounds so lost.
His heart hurts for her. “Kid, I can’t explain your feelings for someone. I just know that when someone makes you happy, you should hold onto them... With Robin, I think I could’ve lived with her the rest of my life. But then she turned me down. And now, it’s gross to even think about kissing her. She’s my sister,” he laughs and she grins at him. “With Nancy, she fell in love with someone when she was with me… our love faded and it couldn’t be helped. But I hold onto my love for them even now that it’s changed. Maybe one day you’ll know what category to put him in, maybe you won’t. But being around him will help that.”
El nods and Steve’s down with her nails. She waves them around to dry them. “I was happy that he was okay. He is nice,” she’s got a small blush on her face and he hopes that this time it would work out for her. “I am really glad he’s okay,” she says softly and takes the paint from him to start on his nails. He offers them easily, holding the bottle in his free hand for her.
Steve thinks about how Eddie’s blood dripped down his back as they carried him out of the Upside Down. “Fear is one way to kick start crushes.”
She nods, looking sad. “It is not fun,” she sighs and he knows that to be the truth.  
They fall into silence as she focuses on his nails. But once she’s done she smiles at him and puts it away. They wash their faces and sit on the couch. He tosses a piece of popcorn and catches it easily. She watches him before attempting to do the same. They stay like that until she looks over at him. “I love you like a brother, like Jonathan.” She says and she makes it sound easy like it’s not a big deal.
It hits him because he’s never been through hell with her. They’ve always been in opposite roles and never once did he put himself in front of a monster for her. “You can’t,” he says softly.
“Steve,” El looks up at him with big eyes. She looks so innocent and it feels like he’s taking advantage of her naivety. She didn’t know that he was always meant to be an asshole. She didn’t understand that he had to prove himself. “You are… Joyce told me that you can say I love you to those you care about. Family, friends, anyone.” She says and she looks a little worried. “She told me that a brother does not have to be a real family member. It is about… being there for each other and caring. You are so kind; you care about us. So, you are our brother.”
Steve shakes his head, “but I- you barely know me, kid. I think you need to take a moment before you decide too quickly. I’m not- I’m not a good person.”
Her nose scrunches up, “you have only ever been kind to me.”
That makes him blink, “well, yeah. But I met you after I worked on becoming a better person. So, you just don’t know.”
El looks over at a picture of the party she pinned to the wall. “They told me you used to be an asshole.” She states and he waits for the words. But you’re better now. You’ve proved that you’ve changed. Instead, she shrugs, “I don’t see it. You have always been kind. You have not proven yourself to be an asshole.”
Steve feels his throat closing and shifts on the couch, “no. El you don’t understand, you have to prove to others that you're worth loving. You can’t just- you can’t just love me. I’m- you-” There’s something pulling in his chest and it’s like he can’t breathe.
“I think you are wrong. For a long time, I did not understand love. It felt wrong. Like a chain to those who demand things of you…” He can see how tense she is and hates that he’s the one making her think back to the lab. “Papa loved me because I proved him right because I was his. But Hop showed me that you can find love everywhere. It is good, it is… it is freedom.”
She looked up at him with determination. “Joyce told me that loving someone is being happy with them. If they make you smile. If they make you feel safe. And if you love freely, you will be happier. My love is free. I want to give you my love.” Steve choked on his tears and she hesitates before she reaches out and takes his hand, “Will you let me?”
“El, I-” he can’t spit out the words he just nods. El easily pulls him into a hug. Always so strong for someone so small.
She loved him even though he was made to be an asshole. She loved him without any hesitance. He cried openly, holding her tightly. She held him just as tight. “I love you too,” he promises and he can feel her smile.
162 notes · View notes
edvinssmedvin · 11 months
Text
Choking part 6
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Read more here: 1 2 3 4 5
Summary: Steve was hanging on by a thread, and it finally breaks. Switches between Eddies and Steve’s POV
CW: Panic attacks, Spiraling, Flashback-ish, mentions of throwing up, gagging, Just kinda sad overall
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Eddie walked down to the hotel parking lot, cursing himself as he patted his pockets once more to confirm,
yup, he had forgotten his keys.
The only key he had on him was their hotel room key and all the kids were waiting in the car to go out and explore the city.
He had left Steve a note and hoped he’d be up for when they got back so they could get ready for the show.
But he was so focused on getting them out that he forgot what he needed to start the car with!
Probably a bad decision but he left Max in charge and headed back the way he came.
He had to walk back up the parking lot stairs and to the elevator.
And god he needs to work out more because walking up back up there is a feat.
AND—He had to lean on the elevator wall while he waited for it to reach his floor because he needed to take a couple of deep breaths to calm down after such an exercise. Jesus Christ.
It's a wonder he is still alive after the upside down. Granted, he did almost die but he technically made that choice himself. Keyword: Almost.
He had walked up to the hotel room door and when he had unlocked it and swung the door open, something felt off.
He brushed it off, thinking it was fine. But as he headed into the room, at the corner of his eye he noticed something in the bathroom.
He turned around, everything in slow motion as he zeroed in on Steve curled up on the ground. Like a movie, everything felt magnified. He felt aware of everything in the room, from the small drip in the bathroom faucet to the loud buzzing of the fan in the next room.
Eddie stood in the doorway of the bathroom, frozen. When he walked into the all-too-quiet room, Eddie figured that Steve was asleep. But guilt worked its way up Eddie's throat. He had been so focused on getting things his way and being petty, he didn't notice Steve struggling until he was on the floor with shaking sobs.
At this point, he knew apologies wouldn't do much but he couldn't help the words spilling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Eddie whispered to Steve as he ran into the bathroom. He crouched next to him, his hands still hovering, unknowing of what to do.
Eddie shielded his view from everything but himself. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to convince him it'll be okay but closed it back up, for once in his life he had no words.
He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to find when looked in the bathroom but finding Steve in the middle of a panic attack was definitely not it. Steve looked terrified, his face still hidden in his knees and shaking with sobs.
He put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and he looked up for a quick sec but his sobs only came out more frantic so Eddie quickly moved his hand away.
Eddie cursed, mentally facepalming himself for not inviting Robin, Steve's other half. Someone who actually knew what to do.
“Steve?” Eddie said carefully, trying to get a reaction and mostly not sure of what to do. “Steve, please look at me.” He said again, trying to sound stern but coming out desperate.
Steve didn't indicate to Eddie that he heard him and so Eddie got down from his crouched position on the floor like a frog and knelt on his knees, knowing they'd probably fall asleep for sitting too long with how slow this was going so far.
Steve could hear Eddie trying to talk to him but he didn't have the energy to answer, every movement felt like more bricks laid on top of him. “Steve, please look at me.” He heard Eddie almost pleading, trying to get his attention but he felt safer in the position he was in. He knew he was hyperventilating but he wondered if he did ever calm down, how would the other shoe drop?
So he stayed silent, hoping his boyfriend would leave so he wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment that is his emotions.
His heart was pounding in his chest. The last thing he needed was for Eddie to see how broken he is, to deem that he was bullshit.
His facade was already cracking and soon everyone will see how much of a liar he was, a manipulator.
He pretended to be happy for others but tricked Eddie into being happy with him when he was far from it. “Steve, I need you to look at me,” Eddie pleaded once more but Steve doesn’t dare to look up to him. Doesn’t dare to show himself.
“everything’s okay!” Eddie tried to explain and though he didn’t raise his voice or yell but it was said with just enough force to scare him.
Steve tried to hold back but he flinched at the assertive voice, his breaths more uneven than the last.
Black spots once again seeped into the already limited vision he had where his forehead rested on his knees, tears smearing everywhere on his fancy pj pants.
But Steve didn’t look up just yet. He knew he was on the fast track to passing out but he was taking a chance. He reasoned that if he did pass out at least he didn't have to confront what was going on, and ultimately didn't have to talk about what was happening.
He felt a hand on his knee and it sent him jumping, flinching so hard as if he had been hit. He waited for the pain to follow, he assumed Eddie was going to hurt him but no punches were thrown.
That confused him, the light touch not expected. His body prepared for pain.
The difference between reality and his memories were hard to find. Everything all at once was flowing through his mind, he thought he had calmed down a bit but when Eddie had touched him, it had worked him back up. Forcing more tears out of the surface.
The past and present synced together and he could no longer remember where he was, The byers? Starcourt? The upside down? Steve didn't know but he felt stuck, utterly useless to the damage that could be done.
He knew Eddie was in front of him, still trying to get his attention. It was like his ears were filled with cotton, blood rushing through his them and his heart pounding.
The world was still tilting around him, if he had dared to get out of the safety bubble he was in he’d most likely going throw up.
But he took his chances, he looked up from where his head was resting, to see Eddie staring back at him.
As expected, the adrenaline rush making him gag, he quickly snapped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth against each other and tensing to prevent himself from becoming sick.
Embarrassed, there was a tense silence where Steve couldn’t hear anything but himself and his sobs slowing down at a record-timing snail's pace.
Steve was dying to know what would happen, what Eddie would say but he also didn’t want to find out in case he didn’t like the answer.
Steve thought to himself. He’s going to break up with me. He hoped he was just working himself up and that Eddie wouldn’t.
But he could, and nothing is stopping him. Steve realized.
He ignored his thoughts and watched as Eddie moved first, through tears and snot he could see him move his other hand that was not on his knee out to him, Eddie slowly took his hand and held Steves, moving it to his chest.
Steve's head felt full of cotton, disgusting. His nose was stuffy and his eyes were almost sore, red, and hot from tears, some still falling. He shook his head “I’m sorry,” His muffled voice was strained, hurting. It felt like he was choking on nothing but air as he repeated once more to Eddie– “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what?” Eddie asked and Steve honestly didn’t know. he just squinted instead of answering, his eyes still burning but curious to see what he was doing.
Eddie kept his hand on his chest and Steve didn't even realize he was unconsciously following the others' breath until just now, the rise and fall of his chest slowing down as did his sobbing.
“Steve, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
With Eddie looking at him with such sorrow in his eye he couldn’t help but try and reach out, “please-” just like a switch he cut himself off, crying heavily again, his shoulders wracked with more sobs. The tears nonstop on and off again.
Eddie looked at him in concern. He kept his hand on Steve's knee and the other on his chest.
Looking to the ceiling, Eddie cursed whatever higher power gave him such bad luck. Eddie didn't want to rush Steve, but he doesn't see any stopping point in the near future and he needs to get the kids back upstairs, he was supposed to be watching them. He’d most likely be dead if he didn’t get the kids home in one piece, either by the parents or Steve.
Trying to choose his battle, he reasoned that he could grab the kids and make it back to Steve fast if he ran, thinking it’s probably not a good choice to leave Steve by himself but he can’t leave the kids either.
Eddie assumes their worried and hopes they don’t get themselves in to much trouble.
“Steve, you don't have to answer but I'll be right back.”—Steve nods weakly and that just breaks Eddie’s heart more—“I promise.”
Eddie sat up, unsteady, almost as graceful as a baby deer. Just like he assumed, his legs fell asleep from the position he was in.
Slowly but surely he got blood rushing back to his legs where the circulation was cut off and when he did, even after complaining about exercising, he ran faster then ever before.
Steve felt defeated, as he watched Eddie run out of the room.
Every part of the walls he built up came crashing down. A simple note somehow left him oh so very empty.
Everything that made him ‘Steve’ was gone. He no longer had the energy to act.
The perfectly created mask everyone loved was gone and Eddie would most likely leave too, after what he just witnessed he’s probably not coming back.
Part of him doesn’t want him to come back, knowing if he does, they'll have to talk about what was happening and that fucking terrifies him.
He was never taught to speak his emotions, his parents more of a ‘be seen not heard’ kinda people. And one thing he learned from hushed whispers behind cracked doors from them is:
Never let them know what you feel.
He knows they’ll turn on him if they figure out how weak he really is. Any feelings he voices will be mocked, a thing to make people laugh. A horrible punchline.
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Authors note: sorry for the delay!! I hope I didn’t disappoint, I’ve been editing this for like the past hour and I’m still not so sure how I feel about it so if u have any comments, edits or suggestions feel free to let me know!
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beth--b · 6 months
Text
Never leaving you
Sicktember prompt 25. confused/disoriented
When all was said and done at Starcourt and the adrenaline began to wear off Steve found himself feeling sick, dizzy and hurting.
Robin had been with him, and Henderson too, but now he was alone.
Well, not alone.
Someone was trying to talk to him, shining a fucking light in his eye. Was the doctor back?
He needed to protect them.
That was his job. It was the one thing he could do so he needed to do it.
He tried to pull away from the people who were talking to him, asking questions. He didn't want to tell anyone anything. He already fucked up when he told them Dustin's full name, he couldn't mess up again.
Then there were hands on his face, and it hurt but not the way it had when they were hitting him. A voice finally filtered through the pain and the terror and the need to protect those he cared for.
“Steve?” the voice came again.
Finally he cracked his eyes open, when had he closed them?
“Robbie?” he asked, ever so slightly slurred.
Read it here on ao3
“There he is. Hey Steve, the paramedics just want to help you alright? I promise they are gonna help, no more hurting ok?”
Steve whined, he wanted to believe her but everything was so confusing and he didn’t know what was past and what was present.
“Shh Steve, shh. I’m not leaving, you’re safe.”
He nodded, why was everything so hard?
The people from before approached him again and this time Steve could make out the uniform of the paramedics. He let them probe at his face, crying out in pain as something in his cheek shifted as they felt the side of his face that had taken the worst hits.
They finally moved away and then Robin was back.
"Good job Steve. We're going to head to the hospital now, but I'm gonna ride with you and we will stick together ok?"
He didn't want to but he didn't think he had it in him to argue. He was so tired.
XXX
Steve wasn't sure what had happened between getting into the ambulance and arriving at the hospital. He was exhausted and sore and just wanted to go home and sleep. Or better yet, back to Eddie’s to sleep. He didn't really want to be alone in his parents too big house.
Instead he was taken to an examination room where a doctor poked at his face some more. She had him strip his shirt too and prodded at the dark bruises forming across his stomach and ribs.
Robin was the only reason he managed to sit through the examination. She kept whispering to him about how they were safe now, that it was over. Eventually a nurse came in and said Steve's emergency contacts had arrived and should she send them in.
The doctor looked to Steve who nodded and she told the nurse to bring them in so that she only had to explain things once.
Robin took a step back from Steve so the newcomers could check him over. She expected to see the Harrington's but was instead met with a rather flustered Eddie Munson when the door opened to the examination room.
"Steve! Your face!" Eddie exclaimed.
Before he could say anything further an older man walked in behind him and put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, the flustered metal head quickly shutting his mouth, though he looked desperately like he wanted to speak.
"Wayne Munson," he introduced himself to the doctor. "Steve's emergency contact."
Steve wanted to go to Eddie, wanted Wayne to call him 'son' and hug him the way parents do, but he waited on the table he had been sitting on since he was brought to this room and bit his already split lip.
But then Wayne was there, he pulled Steve in for a brief but warm hug before turning back to the doctor.
Steve tuned out while she spoke.
He was still dizzy and wanted to sleep.
Wanted to go home.
He was a hair's breath from dozing off where he sat, uncomfortable table be damned, when a hand touched his shoulder.
Eddie was standing before him looking like he desperately wanted to touch Steve but didn't know if he should.
Steve made the decision for him and practically fell forward forcing Eddie to catch him.
"Hey Stevie. Poor thing, you look like you've been to hell and back," Eddie crooned while Steve buried his aching face into Eddie's shoulder.
Steve didn't cry, not then. He was too fucking tired to cry. He did soak up as much of Eddie's warmth and tenderness as he could though before he finally pulled away.
Robin was hovering at the edge of the room and Steve cursed himself for forgetting about her. She knew he had a boyfriend, he'd told her right after she confessed to having a crush on Tammy Thompson, so it wasn't that he was worried about that. No, he just felt like he shouldn't have been able to forget her for even a second after everything they'd been through.
"Stop thinking so hard dingus," Robin scolded him before she rushed forward and hugged him. "I need to go find my parents and check on the others. Let Eddie take care of you yeah? I'll see you tomorrow." With one last hug she left the room, looking at him over her shoulder even as she left and closed the door.
"Well," Wayne started, "you are gonna be hurtin' for a while son, but the doc said we could take you home once they wrap your ribs and do another check. Sit tight and we'll be out of here soon."
Steve nodded, filled with relief. He didn't want to be here anymore.
Eddie hopped up and sat beside him on the cold table and wrapped an arm around Steve.
"You waiting here with me?" Steve asked, resting his head on Eddie's shoulder once more.
"Of course. After this I'm not sure I'll be leaving you alone anytime soon."
Steve sighed and lay his hand on Eddie's knee, pressed tightly against him.
"Sounds good to me."
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thaliaisalesbian · 9 months
Text
i get myself twisted in threads
Chapter 5: sitting as usual
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
She doesn’t know how Steve manages to stay awake all the way to the Byers’ house. It takes them at least an hour and a half to get there.
It feels so much longer. Maybe it was; even if she had a watch on, Nancy wouldn’t be checking it now. Because they keep stopping to make sure he’s not going to bleed out. They have to. Jonathan uses one of their stops to wrap his jacket around Steve’s torso, pulling it as tight as he can. He ties the sleeves in a knot right above the wound.
Nancy thinks she would have screamed, if someone had done that to her. But Steve is either out of enough that he doesn’t feel the pain, or he doesn’t have the energy to do more than mumble.
Which he’s doing an awful lot of.
The rambling mumble he keeps up is actually calming, in a way. It makes it easier to know he’s still alive, for one, and he’s talking about the kids, everything he knows they like and don’t like.
At least, she’s pretty sure he’s talking about the kids. It’s hard to tell. Half of it is too quiet to hear properly, and slurred on top of that. She’s too terrified, too worried, to pay much attention to what he’s actually saying.
Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are waiting in the yard with the first aid kit when they get there. Joyce and Hopper are just getting out of their cars, parked haphazardly in the yard. Nancy wants to collapse when she sees them; she barely registers that Will, El, and Max are joining the huddle with the others. She does collapse when Hopper lifts Steve up and carries him the rest of the way into the house.
“We’ll come get you when you’re allowed inside. If your parents start calling and asking where you are, you’re going home. I don’t care if you’ve seen him or not.”  Joyce takes the first aid kit from Mike and gets the door for Hopper while he addresses the kids.
“Is he dead?” Dustin asks, staring after them, and, god, she’s too tired for this right now. She can’t handle the kids’ questions and fears when she hasn’t even started to handle her own.
“No, he’s not dead.” She says. “He was still talking to us.” Not coherently by the time they’d gotten here, but he’d been talking.
“Hopper said we shouldn’t be inside for this part.”
“Hopper’s right.” Jonathan sits on the ground, ignoring the blood on his clothes. She’s covered in it, too.
It doesn’t look good.
What if they were too late?
"But we want to see him!"
"Not now." Jonathan glares. "Mom and Hopper have to clean him up first."
"That's a lot of blood." Will points out quietly.
"He'll be fine." Nancy comes far too close to snapping for her comfort; she doesn’t want the kids to catch on just yet that she's not sure Steve will make it this time.
"Nancy, Jonathan? If we could get a little help in here? I'm not exactly big enough to help move Steve." Joyce's voice comes through the door, and they’re both reaching for it before she finishes her sentence.
Jonathan has proof on his clothes, all over his body, of how much blood Steve has lost.
Of how bad the injuries are.
It doesn’t prepare him for how pale Steve is, or the amount of used gauze and bandages on the floor.
How much blood can a person have in their body?
Jonathan tries to remember, but he can’t. But Mom and Hopper’s faces aren’t grim enough for this to be… they’re not going to tell them he’s dead. He’s not dead.
“What do you need?” He asks. The kids are trying to get in, but Nancy is already locking the door behind them.
They don’t need to see Steve like this. Jonathan’s not sure he wants to see Steve like this; bloody and barely-alive. Not when he’s always thought of how he looked on that night, bursting back through the door to save them, swinging the bat like he was planning to hit a grand slam.
Steve’s hand had been warm when Jonathan had grabbed him to pull him away. Since then, he’s had the on-and-off thought that he wants to know if Steve’s hands are always that warm, or if it was just because of the adrenaline rush.
Nancy brushes her hand against his when she turns away from the door. He wants to hold onto her, but they’re both tacky with drying blood.
Of course, a lock won't stop El if she really wants to test it, but something makes Jonathan think that she won't. At least not right away. 
“We really do need help moving him, and I thought you’d both like to change.” Mom manages a half-smile.
“How bad is it?” Nancy’s voice is as steady as she holds her pistols, like she’s prepared to be told Steve will die tomorrow.
(He doesn’t know how she manages it. Right now, his heart is in his throat and he can't get any words out past it.)
“He’s not going to be doing anything for a few weeks.” Hopper says. “If it gets infected, we'll have to take him to a hospital, but Joyce and I did our best. He’s not actively bleeding out anymore. Once we get him into bed, I'm calling Owens.”
A non-answer.
continue reading or finish on ao3
“How bad?” He has to swallow three times before he can repeat Nancy’s question. What if he doesn’t wake up again? “We’re not the kids, Hopper, you can tell us.”
“Honey,” His mom says, softly. “I think he’s lucky to have any flesh left on his right side at all. I don’t know how you got him here alive while walking.”
“He was awake.” Nancy whispers. “The whole time. He kept mumbling, something about the kids. And—Jonathan, you didn’t see the wounds, but he was bitten in the Upside Down too. On his legs. He walked on those for days.”
“He climbed trees, too.” Jonathan adds. “He was sleeping in them.”
“We can rehash that later.” Hopper says. “For now, let’s put him in one of the bedrooms.”
“Mine.” He says immediately. “My bed is big enough.” When he’d outgrown his mom, she’d given him the bigger bed. “And it's the closest.”
His mom—she has the least amount on her of all four of them—goes to change the sheets and clear a path first, while he, Hopper, and Nancy try to figure out how they’re going to carry Steve without bumping him into walls, or waking him up, or dropping him.
Somehow it’s harder than him and Nancy carrying Steve from the lab all the way here.
It takes a few minutes, but they work it out.
“Go shower up, you two.” Hopper says. “Joyce and I will handle the living room mess and the kids.”
“Just don’t take too long, okay?” Mom winks at him, and he knows he’s bright red when they leave the room. He knows she trusts them, and of course they’d never even think about anything like that while Steve is maybe dying on his bed.
“I know she’s joking, but I honestly can’t even think about that right now.” Nancy leans her head on his shoulder. “We have blood everywhere.”
Jonathan feels like scrubbing his skin raw until he doesn’t see Steve’s blood on his hands ever again, but he thinks that’s going to take a while, so he settles for washing Nancy’s back clean for her before she does his.
“Do you think Steve would fit in your clothes?” She asks, pulling on one of his shirts and a pair of pajama pants that she keeps here. “I have a few here, but he certainly doesn’t, and he’s going to need something to wear.”
“It might.” Most of his stuff is a little big on him, it would probably fit Steve. His pants might be a little short, but that will just make checking his ankles easier. “I don’t think putting a shirt on him is a good idea right now though.”
“The kids are going to want to see him.” Nancy takes his desk chair, watching Steve’s chest as he breathes.
They’ll break down his door if they don’t get to, probably. Especially after they locked the door, kept them out.
“Yeah, but what if he starts bleeding again?”
“Just put a blanket over him.” His mom’s in the doorway, holding a trash bag. “We’re not going to be able to save your clothes.”
He tosses their ruined clothes into the bag, trying not to think about how much blood is on them.
“Do we need to take him to a hospital now?” Jonathan’s not sure they can, honestly, because of the nature of the wounds. They don’t have bears around here, and even if they did he doesn’t think this looks like an animal attack.
They also might not be allowed to see him if he's in the hospital. His parents will have to be notified, and then they’ll be in charge, they’ll be free to move him somewhere far away if they want to.
“If things get really bad, we will.” His mom answers. “You know I went to nursing school for a couple of years, and Jim has done field medicine before. He’s trying to get in contact with Owens right now.”
“How much worse is ‘really bad’?” Nancy’s got her arms wrapped around herself. He’d hug her if he thought she’d accept the touch right now.
“I don’t know, honey.”
He looks at Steve, almost as pale as his sheets, torso wrapped in bandages with drying blood still visible on his upper chest.
“What about his ankles?” He can't let himself think about what will happen if Steve dies. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to sleep in his bed again, knowing his friend had died there. In this room, probably. He’ll have to move in with Will or take the couch. Seal it off, only to come in when he wants to regret everything he never said all over again.
“We took a look at that too; cleaned them up a little and rewrapped them.”
“Why can’t we see him?” He can hear Dustin from here. The kid’s always been the loudest of the bunch, but he’s not sure he’s heard him this distressed in a while.
He doesn’t catch Hopper’s response, too busy staring at the blood and thinking about how close they came to really losing Steve this time.
Because he was willing to sacrifice himself for them. Again.
He'd hardly talked to them, but he’d still been ready to die if it meant they escaped. 
Jonathan had had to practically shove Steve behind him to keep him from using himself as a human shield.
He thinks about Steve’s face, the way he’d pulled that cocky mask back up so quickly when he’d overheard the conversation he and Nancy were having that day.
There’s none of that now, wasn’t any of it in the Upside Down, just a certainty and a protective edge that made the kids feel safe, that made him feel like everything was going to be okay, even if he didn’t know how or when.
It’s not something he’s felt often when dealing with the Upside Down. 
He slides past his mom to the bathroom, soaks a washcloth until it’s dripping, squeezing all the water out multiple times to give himself an extra minute. 
He probably uses too much force to get the blood off. He wishes Steve would complain. He’d be awake, at least. 
When he’s done, Nancy covers Steve with a blanket and sits on the edge of the bed carefully instead of going back to the chair.
“Jon,” she’s staring at Steve still, making sure he’s still alive. “We need to tell him. I can’t—We can’t lose him. Not like this.”
“I know.” He sits opposite her, finds Steve’s wrist under the covers, feeling for his pulse.
It’s there. A little slow, maybe, but it’s there.
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” She admits, “He looked like he was going to cry, and then it was just— gone. He was back to being an asshole and it was like nothing ever changed.”
“He heard the wrong part of that talk,” Jonathan agrees. It’s on a loop in his mind, everything they could have—should have—done differently. He could have caught Steve’s hand again, pulled him in to tell him the truth.
Right now, Steve’s colder than he was the last time Jonathan held his hand.
“Steve?” El’s peeking around the door, eyes wide, and suddenly all he can hear is the way she screamed for him before Nancy had gotten her through the gate.
“Come here, El.” Nancy might be thinking the same thing, because she tucks El into her side. “He’s going to be okay, see? Joyce and Hopper know what they’re doing.”
“I know.” She says. “It is still scary.”
“You’re right, it is.” He knows it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the kids figure out El’s slipped away from them, before they come in demanding to be allowed to sit around him and wait for him to wake up.
For now, they’ll keep this odd, almost grief-like, quiet for just the four three of them.
<- 4 6 ->
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hex-we-need-therapy · 9 months
Note
Aw shoot. I don't really have a muse....
🛏
Can we see Steve faint? He seems to be the one to work himself to exhaustion, plus Quentin is the easy choice for this prompt and I wanted to switch it up a bit.
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Steve’s breaths were unsteady puffs of air as he dragged his broken body across the painfully long hall. The porcelain tiles that line the walls feel cold under his bloodstained fingers. Painted with his own blood.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
DRIP.
There's something dripping over his split lips. Its taste is salty, slightly metallic.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Someone should check that leak. When moisture seeps into the walls it's a bitch to deal with. In addition to the horrible smell that it will generate. Ugh.
Drip.
Drip.
His frame shakes as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other. The chestnut doesn't remember it being this difficult to walk. At least it wasn't before-, before... before... What was he just thinking about?
Drip.
The constant sound of the leak seems to be the only thing he is able to hear, almost rumbling in his ears. It's maddening.
The brown-eyed one fixes his pupils on the ground, trying to find where the insistent sound comes from, and instead of clear water, all he can see is red.
Is water supposed to be that color?
Drip.
Drip.
Steve feels nauseous, breathing is difficult. So, so difficult. His body screams in agony as his knees finally can't carry his own weight, and the world is suddenly too bright, too fast, too dizzying. Just too much.
He thinks he might be dying, as the colors seem to saturate with each erratic beat of his heart. The shapes surrounding him look strange, somehow wrong. They are growing and getting darker.
He thinks he hears someone shouting his name in the distance, but he is unable to respond, as the void has finally come to devour him.
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afewproblems · 1 year
Text
Steve always falls first, falls fastest.
It happened three years ago with Nancy, it happened with Robin back before the bathroom confession cemented their platonic soulmate status. It happened with Lauren MacNeal in Steve's freshman year, and Cindy Carlile back when he was eight years old.
He knows himself and knows the beginning stages. It's always quick and never painless, and seems to hurt more with every passing year. A dull ache in his chest that throbs and whispers darkly, 'remember Harrington, you'll always be bullshit'.
And when he finds himself falling for one Eddie Munson, he knows exactly when it starts.
Movie nights became a regular thing shortly after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. Robin, Steve, and Eddie all pile into the Harrington living room or the Munson trailer every other week, it's too hard to be apart.
Really, it becomes a way to keep a late night conversation going with Eddie while the credits roll, Robin dozes on the beanbag in the corner and Steve can't help but stare.
Eddie is so animated when he talks about something he loves, his brown eyes light up with his thousand watt smile and the dimples come out in full force, Steve almost has to squint with the amount of natural sunshine this man emanates when he talks about his passions.
He says as much to Robin during their next shift and she can't help but roll her eyes and gag, "Steven Remington Harrington-"
"Not my name," Steve cuts in with a laugh as he stuffs their second copy of the Shining into the machine to rewind.
"Don't interrupt dingus," Robin continues imperiously, "I get it, you have heart-eyes for the guy, but you gotta stop gushing about him to me and tell him".
Steve rolls his eyes and ignores the way his stomach swoops at the thought of telling Eddie how he feels, and the realization that it's happening again.
"I-I mean, it's not like I'm in love with the guy Robin, he stutters out eventually, "it'll go away, or he'll find someone else to talk to, they always do eventually".
He focuses on picking up the stack of freshly rewound tapes and walking them into the shelves, avoiding Robin's silent sad look that bores into the back of his head as he hides in the stacks.
Weeks turn into months and Steve absorbs nearly everything he can about Eddie.
He wears a size 10 shoe, but the 'shit-kicking' steel toes always look a smidge bigger - the inch or two it adds to Eddies height doesn't hurt either as Steve finds he has to tilt his head up to meet Eddie's gaze when he's decked out in his metal gear for a show...
He got his first guitar when he went to live with Wayne, it was a simple acoustic that he learned his chords on and practiced CCR on to his uncles delight.
He hates orange juice and loves coffee.
He loves cats and is scared to death of birds.
Every detail draws Steve in, but that small voice in the back of his mind reminds him again and again, 'they always leave Steve, don't get too comfortable'.
But how could he not?
Eddie is comfortable, he's nice and funny, and seems to enjoy hanging out with Steve almost as much as Steve enjoys being with Eddie. There is a softness to him when they're alone that makes Steve feel safe.
So what if he doesn't feel the same, Steve isn't about to give this up.
Not yet.
Steve takes to dropping by the Corroded Coffin band practice every weekend, a six pack in one hand and a small wary smile on his face - he's still not entirely accepted by Gareth and Jeff but the beer helps and Eddie vouches for him every time.
The atmosphere is still somewhat stilted, but it isnt as icy as it had been. Now Gareth even sits with him after practice while Eddie and Jeff go over their solos just outside the door as they share a joint, blowing smoke rings into the evening air.
"You know," Gareth says one night to Steve as he plops down beside him onto the sunken couch in the garage, "If someone had told me in high school I'd be sitting here with King-Steve and sharing a beer after practice, I'd laugh in their face".
Steve fights down a wince at the mention of the old nickname, and nods once. Who was he kidding, 'King-Steve' was not something he'd ever be able to outrun.
"So," Gareth continues, tapping his hands against the neck of the bottle, "how's the crush going?"
Steve chokes on his beer and swings his hand up to pound his fist into his chest to loosen up the liquid, Gareth claps him on the back with an alarmed expression on his face.
"Jesus Harrington, y'alright?" Gareth says as Steve tries to catch his breath.
Steve nods and breathes deeply through his nose, his eyes flick to the open garage door to see if Eddie or Jeff are on their way back inside, "I-I don't think I heard you right," he manages with a rasp.
Gareth snorts and shakes his head, leaning back against the couch. He's quiet for a moment, eyes trained on Steve's face.
Steve, for his part, stares resolutely at the floor hoping his gaze is strong enough to burn a hole into the concrete he can jump into.
"Look," Gareth says after a beat, "I guess its not really any of my business Harrington," his eyes travel over to the open door before flicking back to Steve, "and I don't mean to sound like a prick when I say this, but you're not really his type man".
Something in Steve's throat pulls tight, bullshit echoes in the hollow cavity of his chest as he nods and swallows the last dreggs of his beer.
"Right," Steve mumbles, he puts his hands on his knees and stands up from the couch, "Right, yeah, I mean, makes sense...".
He crosses to the door and manages to toss the now empty can into an open bin they'd officially commandeered for empties.
"Dude," Gareth says softly standing as well, he makes no move to walk towards Steve though.
Steve waves a hand and drops the other to his back pocket to hide the sudden trembling. Gareth is right, it doesn't make sense. Why would someone like Eddie ever want to be with someone like Steve? How would that even work?
Always fast but never painless, right on time.
"You guys were uh, great as usual, I'll see you around man," Steve says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he hasn't had to pull out the 'King Steve' smile in a few years but it still fits, still manages to hide a few things.
He turns away from Gareth and walks out through the open garage door.
The sun is nearly below the horizon and the stars have begun to migrate, the inky blue of night begins to steep into the last vestiges of light, if he's careful he can slip past Eddie and Jeff without either of them noticing.
He makes it to the beemer before Eddie turns towards him.
Eddie's brown eyes widen before narrowing in a questioning stare, he opens his mouth but Steve opens the car door and quickly slides into the driver's seat.
He stares straight ahead as he backs out of the driveway and pulls out onto the road.
Steve can feel those brown eyes follow him as he makes the long drive back to his empty house.
Part Two Now Up!
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nymime · 8 months
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FW: suicide thoughts, suicide ideation, self harm.
Steve was staring his hand, watching his finger flinch and twitch with sudden spams of stress. He was so tired, not a sleepyhead or lazy way, but just drained out of all energy and motivation to do anything more than breath. The brunette can feel his lung get full with air, he hold it until his view start to get black and fuzzy, he exhaled deeply and slow, he do it again.
Steve was laying on his bed since Friday, now is Monday. he only get up to go and pee, he didn’t eat anything since the breakfast of Friday, his stomach feels numb and it hurts, but he don’t care, Steve don’t have the energy to care. His breathing got stuck for a shaky breath he got, his eyes start to get blurry, he can feel the tears stuck on his lashes. He blink, than twice, he can’t do the tears go down, Steve was so tired for try to cry. His middle and ring finger flinch, the boy sigh again.
Why he was even alive? He don’t deserve to be here, he was just a stupid rich boy that he couldn’t be smart enough to do something good, he fail on the propose of his birth; be a competent heir to his father’s company, his old man hate him since birth, always away to not see the failure of son he has. His mother don’t care about him, not anymore, not after she found out that he have the same illness as his grandmother, what a lost of time he was to her, have a disorder of personality, borderline worse! Even have the nerve to develop severe depression. She couldn’t care less if he tries and go kill himself, Steve is convince that his mother would do a party if he dies, he can’t blame her if she do.
He was just a waste of space. If he weren’t here, Robin wouldn’t got on all that shitty situation of Upside down and Russians, she would be on some place doing so much things. Steve sure that she will meet a good girl and establish, far away of him.
Steve was just so tired, his fingers flinch once again, why he can’t move? Why his body was so fucking heavy? What a bothersome thing. He sigh again, having the little energy to roll over to his other side, he do it. Now he was on his left flank, the simple action of roll make him a lot more tired than before, what a shame of living thing he was. He continue staring his fingers, wondering if he would die laying on his bed and who would find his body. Maybe Robin? Or maybe Dustin with Eddie, he didn’t know. Steve hasn’t hear anything of them since Friday, clearly he didn’t was missed for them.
He couldn’t care less, he was tired.
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schrijverr · 10 months
Text
Radio Home
Steve gets hurt by himself and the only way to call for help is to radio someone in the party. He doesn’t like asking for help, but radios Dustin anyway. When it turns out to be way worse than he thought, Hopper (an unlikely source) is there to catch him.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: Steve's bad parents mentioned, injury, hospital
~~~~~~~~
Steve is in a bit of a conundrum. You see he knows he should probably radio the party for help. He can only reach the radio they gave him, so it’s quite logical, but he isn’t part of the party like that and he doesn’t want to assume.
They gave it to him because it’s easier. After a few times failing to catch him at school as well as a very awkward game of telephone through Nancy, giving him a radio to ask for rides is just logical.
So, Steve got one of his own so he could come pick them up from the Wheeler house when a campaign runs late, drive them to the arcade or the skate park, one memorable moment to Hopper’s hidden cabin.
Of course there are also the emergencies like when Dustin smacked his face when playing and had a big bleeding nose and they could only reach Steve, when Max needed to get away from the fighting between her mom and step dad and that time Lucas needed assurance after a nightmare.
It is all things Steve does with love. These kids have been through so much and contrary to his complaints, they’ve all grown on him and he cares so much about the little twerps.
However, that’s not the point right now, the point is that they gave the radio to Steve, because it’s easy. He’s an adult with a car and money and enough free time. He protected them and they feel safe with him. It’s a one way transaction. Steve comes to help them, not the other way around.
So, he shouldn’t be radioing them for help. That’s not the dynamic they have. Steve should be able to figure this out.
But Steve is also stuck under the pool furniture and pretty sure he broke his leg, so maybe this could be an exception, plus he thinks he has a migraine coming on.
He’d been getting the garden ready for the summer weather that was coming. His parents weren’t in town yet, but if he didn’t do it soon, they would be disappointed with him when they dropped by again. He didn’t want to give them another reason to be disappointed with him.
Lately all he’s doing is disappointing people. His parents aren’t anything new, but he also let Billy beat his ass, drove Nancy away, couldn’t be on the court to support his team. The only thing that has been going well is the kids.
And that’s the crux of the issue.
These kids look up to him. They think he’s cool, that he’s brave, that he knows what he’s doing.
He doesn’t want to break that illusion by calling for help, because he thought he could take three chairs off at the same time and they all toppled down on him. That’s too embarrassing.
His parents must come home soon, he reasons. They’ve been gone for three weeks now, they can’t be much longer. They must notice him not being in the house and come looking for him. They must… Right?
Steve isn’t entirely sure. Deep down he knows it could be another week and he might starve to death or his leg could get infected if he doesn’t call for help.
The radio is staring judgmentally at him from the floor next to his head. He brought it with him so he wouldn’t miss it if one of the kids needed him, he could just use it and be saved.
As if hearing him start to give in, his leg gives another pulse. It’s been hurting like a bitch, but Steve is used to pushing through the pain, however, even he can’t keep ignoring how his leg aches.
God, what is he even doing, he wonders. He must’ve hit his head on the way down, since he’s being such an idiot about this.
He’s about to reach for the radio and suffer through the humiliating conversation when the radio crackles to life and Dustin asks: “Are you there, Steve? Over.”
“I’m here,” Steve says immediately snatching the radio from the floor, ignoring how the action makes his head spin. What if Dustin is in trouble and Steve can’t get there? “Are you okay? Over.”
“Yeah, we want to get the arcade,” Dustin answers, relief flooding through Steve’s veins. “Are you okay though, you sound weird. Over.”
Of course the twerp noticed. Though that might make this easier for Steve. He presses the button again and laughs: “Not really, no. Can you call Hopper or Joyce? Someone with a car and driver’s license? Over.”
“What? What happened? Over,” Dustin shrieks.
Steve winces, this sort of reaction is exactly what he wanted to avoid. He sighs: “I’m fine, Henderson. Don’t worry. I just need a bit of a hand and I know I’m not part of the party and this is for party emergencies only, but I just need someone to come free me.”
“What do you mean not- You know what, that can wait,” Dustin yells, before calming himself to moderately nervous. “Where are you, are you captured? Over.”
“I’m in my shed,” Steve confesses, cheeks burning with embarrassment as exhaustion presses him into the ground. “Chairs fell on me.”
“Chairs? Over,” Dustin asks.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. He’s tired. His leg hurts and he probably has a migraine coming too, which is just lovely, truly. He feels embarrassed and humiliated. He doesn’t want to deal with this. “I don’t want to hear it. Just call Hopper.”
“Okay, okay,” Dustin says, quickly. “I’ll get on it. Just tell me if you’re hurt. Over.”
“No,” Steve lies. “Just tired. Your yapping is making my head hurt,” he says and flips the radio off before he can think about it.
It’s not even to be mean, but he suddenly feels a little lightheaded and the noise makes him feel like he’s going to throw up. He aches all over and just needs it to be quiet.
His blinks become heavy and he kind of floats in this in between limbo of consciousness and sleep.
He’s startled out of it by the shed door slamming open. He groans at the movement and bleary looks up to come face to face with a very worried Hopper.
“Chief?” he asks, confused. At this point he doesn’t remember asking for the man.
“Fucking hell, Harrington,” Hopper hisses through his teeth. “What happened here? How are you feeling?”
His body screams at him, the edges of his vision still blurred. With his concentration slipping it’s harder to ignore it all. He mumbles: “Hurts. Tired.”
“Don’t go to sleep,” Hopper orders sternly and Steve can’t help but freeze up at the tone, doing everything in his might to stay awake.
Hopper winces at something, maybe his reaction, but he isn’t sure why.
Luckily, Hopper doesn’t interrogate him further, instead picking up the radio on his shoulder and saying: “This is Hopper. I’m at the Harrington residence and I need an ambulance ASAP.”
The response is garbled enough by the radio that Steve can’t catch it and he also doesn’t fully grasp why Hopper would need all that.
“I got a male, 18, buried under garden chairs,” Hopper answers the radio operator. “He isn’t fully here mentally and there is blood all around his head. I don’t know what the situation under the chairs is like.”
That sounds vaguely worrying to Steve and he hopes that whoever Hopper is talking about will be okay. He doesn’t like how worried Hopper sounds.
However, he isn’t sure how to make it better, because Hopper seemed mad a little bit ago and Steve doesn’t want to aggravate him more, plus staying awake is proving to be harder than he thought.
“Hop...” he only manages half the name, but that’s enough for Hopper to be hovering over him again.
“You okay, kid?” he asks.
Steve is scared for what he’s about to admit, but does it anyway. Maybe saying it will lessen the punishment that is sure to come. “I- I can’t stay awake. ‘M sorry.”
“Hey, hey, hey, no need for sorry,” Hopper says soothingly. A rough hand cups his cheek gently and he can’t help but lean into it, closing his eyes.
That action earns him a soft shake and Hopper saying: “Stay with me, Harrington. Come on. Eyes open.”
Steve blinks heavily, but his eyes open again.
“Oh thank god,” Hopper mutters more to himself.
They repeat this song and dance a few times more. However, it doesn’t last long and soon darkness takes over, the last thing Steve remembers is the sound of more boots coming into the shed then he’s gone.
When he blinks his eyes open again, he isn’t looking at the shed ceiling, instead a white ceiling is staring down at him.
Steve frowns in confusion for a second, before he realizes that the man Hopper was worried about was him, because he came to help Steve after he radioed with Dustin. It must have been worse than he realized if he’s in a hospital.
At least, he assumes it's a hospital, because the ceiling is white and he hears steady beeping coming from next to him.
He forces his head to move more, groaning at the action when it sends a dull ache through him. The sound causes something to his right to move and he realizes it’s Hopper, who has gotten up and is now leaning over him, brows furrowed.
“Chief?” Steve asks, because why would he still be here. Is he in trouble?
“It’s me, kid,” Hopper shushes him, carding a hand through his hair in a soothing manner. Okay, so maybe not in trouble, but that still doesn’t explain much.
Then Hopper is calling for a nurse and Steve is forced to answer all sort of questions that remind him of his stay here after Billy beat him up. Not a good sign. However, he feels more clearheaded now than in the shed, which is a comfort.
“What's the verdict, doc?” he asks when the doctor is done, trying to sound less scared than he is and probably unsuccessful.
“Good news, your concussion is minor,” the doctor says. “However, the head wound bled a lot. You passed out due blood loss, but we got your blood pressure back up with a transfusion. Your left leg has a minor fracture, but beyond that, you’re going to be just fine, Mr. Harrington.”
That’s quite a relief, but also way worse than Steve thought. He hadn’t even realized he hit his head that hard when he went down. He gets migraines after Billy and just assumed that was a cherry on top of this shitty cake.
“When will I be out of here?” Steve asks, instead of reacting.
“We want to keep an eye on you for a few days,” the doctor tells him. “Then we can release you into the care of someone. We’re trying to reach your parents so they can take you home.”
At that tidbit, Steve’s heart sinks. His parents aren’t here, maybe they’re even unreachable. That happens sometimes. God, it’s so embarrassing that Hopper now knows his parents are disappointed enough in him not to want to associate with him.
He tries not to let any of that show on his face, however, as he smiles: “Alright, thank you, doctor.”
The doctor nods, then leaves the room so it’s just him and Hopper again. Steve now also remembers not being able to listen to Hopper’s instructions, so he shrinks down on the bed and tries not to look Hopper in the eye as he waits for the dressing down he is sure to get.
It never comes.
Instead Hopper sits back down next to him and sighs: “I’m glad you’re okay, kid. Nearly gave me a heart attack when I found you like that.”
“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, feeling guilty that he got so many people involved in him being stupid. “I was trying to make the pool ready for summer. Thought I could carry more chairs than I could. It’s stupid, my dad will rip me a new one when he hears.”
Hopper’s hands tighten on the railing of the bed and Steve realizes that might be the wrong thing to say.
“He probably won’t be too mad,” he tries to backtrack. “I should’ve done it last month, it’s my own fault anyway. I knew I was late, so I was rushing before they came back.”
“Please, shut up,” Hopper grits and Steve clicks his mouth shut.
Hopper sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose while he takes a few deep breaths. “Your parents shouldn’t be mad about you being in the hospital, Steve. They should be here right now, worrying about you. You were out for five hours.”
Steve’s heart stops at the words. He isn’t sure if it’s about the concern Hopper is showing that his own parents never have, the fact that this is the first time Hopper has ever called him Steve or because he had been out for so long.
“Oh,” is all he manages to reply.
“I’m not mad at you for being here and it’s not your fault,” Hopper says. “It was an accident. I’m glad you managed to reach out to Dustin before you passed out. You could’ve died there.”
Steve flushes, remembering how long he debated about radioing Dustin. God, the other must be mad at him for turning his radio off like that.
“Is he okay?” he asks, suddenly feeling worried. “Dustin, I mean. Is he okay?”
Hopper gives him a fond smile that Steve isn’t used to and says: “Dustin is fine. He was worried out of his mind when you dropped off the line and has been sitting outside being worried for the last five hours, but other than that, totally fine.”
“He waited here?” Steve asks, shocked and needing to be sure. That is one of the nicest things someone has ever done for him.
“Yeah, he has,” Hopper answers. “Want me to let him in?”
“Please,” Steve requests
“Alright, kid, I’ll give you two a moment,” Hopper promises, before opening the door and leaving to get Dustin.
Dustin comes rushing into the room not even a second later, screaming: “Steve! You're awake.”
“I am, man,” Steve says, plastering on a grin the best he can, while Dustin climbs on his bed to hug him, all the jostling hurting more than he’ll ever tell the kid.
When Dustin pulls back there are tears in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you idiot! You told me you were fine and then you disappeared from the radio and then Hopper calls my mom to tell us you’re in the hospital! The hospital, Steve. That’s the opposite from fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I didn’t even realize I hit my head, thought I had a migraine coming, nothing more. Thanks for calling Hopper.”
“Of course, I called Hopper,” Dustin replies, sounding affronted at the idea he wouldn’t. “You stopped saying over and were slurring your words.”
Steve doesn’t know how Dustin caught details like that. Unable to voice his gratitude, he pulls Dustin in for another hug. He whispers: “Thank you, you saved my life.”
“You’re welcome,” Dustin whispers back. “I’ll always come help. We’re brothers and you are part of the party. I thought you knew that. We have each other’s back.”
A lump of emotions forms in Steve’s throat as he hugs Dustin. He knows how protective they all are about the party title, to be included in that is an honor. “I won’t forget,” he promises.
“You better not,” Dustin mutters into his chest.
They sit like that for a long time as Steve mentally works through the day in his mind. Finally getting a chance process.
Apparently he had nearly died. He hit his head – again – and nearly died – again. Now he’s in the hospital and unless his parents can be contacted – which is unlikely – he’s stuck here. Hopper knows he might be here.
Beyond that, he’s going to be fine, just another concussion under his belt. Plus a broken leg, he can kiss basketball goodbye for the rest of the year.
College is also looking less and less likely.
However, Steve can’t bring himself to mind that much, because he’s part of the party, he’s Dustin’s brother. No one is mad at him and they came to help when he called, a novelty.
After a little bit, Dustin has to go home. Hopper takes him there and Steve expects to spend the night alone. He doesn’t like hospitals much, but he’ll have to deal. However, Hopper comes back and plants himself next to Steve’s bed in a manner that dares Steve to make a comment. Steve knows better than that.
They spend the next few days like that. Hopper has to work during the day, but at night he’ll sit next to Steve and make him feel less alone. He even brings El with him two times.
She’s an adorable girl. He hasn’t been around her much, since she often isn’t allowed outside, but he grows fond of her within minutes.
During the day, he isn’t lonely either with a parade of kids coming to check in with him, bring him shitty gifts and silly stories. They’re there from the second school gets out until visitation hours end and never complain about the uncomfortable chairs.
Mike brings with him school work he still needs to finish. Nancy had heard about what happened and collected his work. Steve honestly doesn’t care, though he does want to graduate, so he’ll have to.
Joyce also comes to bring him flowers once, which he never saw coming. She fusses over him and tells him to be careful, before she kisses the top of his head in a gentle manner that has him burrowing down to avoid her seeing his wet eyes.
And so the days creep by towards when he’s set to be released and there is no sign yet of his parents.
Steve has called their secretary about it, who informed him that his parents have extended their business trip to Europe into a vacation, since the weather in France is already so nice. They’re not taking any messages, but she’ll see what she can do.
He doesn’t put much stock in her words. He doesn’t really blame her either. His father is intimidating and he pays well and probably takes her to bed. It makes Steve sick, but he can do about as much as she can.
But his helplessness with his parents doesn’t stop his release date coming any closer and soon his doctor is signing his paperwork.
If he’s honest, Steve doesn’t really know what’s going on. He might not be a minor anymore, but they said he wasn’t getting out without someone being available to care for him. As far as he’s aware, his parents aren’t here. However, he doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Leaving the room on his crutches, he comes face to face with Hopper, who has his stuff in a bag over his shoulder. Steve doesn’t know if he’s surprised.
One the one hand, Hopper has been there with him the whole time, but that is probably because he felt shaken up after finding Steve bleeding on the ground. Taking him home and caring for him is a whole other ballpark, which is such a big ask that he could never expect that from Hopper.
He isn’t sure what Hopper sees on his face, because he sighs before he gruffly says: “Don’t make that face, Steve. I’m not letting you rot here.”
“You- you don’t have to,” Steve tells him tentatively, because yeah, he wants to get the hell away from here, but he doesn’t want Hopper to do something he doesn’t want to.
“I know, kid,” Hopper says, more gentle this time. Then, because neither of them feel like having this conversation, he claps his hands and turns to walk away. “Now let’s go, I promised El I’d be home for lunch and bringing your home. I don’t want to see her disappointed face if I don’t.”
Steve doesn’t want that either. For being isolated in her youth, El sure managed to nail the puppy eyes without trying. So, he hobbles after Hopper as fast as he can.
They drive to the cabin in silence. Steve has been told to stay of his feet as much as he can and it appears that El and Hop have taken this very seriously. When he gets to the cabin, there is a nest/soft throne made for him that El ushers him to.
“I will be your nurse,” she tells him very seriously, leaving before he can protest to grab their lunch from Hopper, who snorts softly at them.
Hopper explains to Steve that he will have to work, but that El will be here all day and to ask her if he needed anything. If there was trouble, they could radio him. He could stay there for as long as he wanted and he wasn’t a bother.
Steve kind of feels like a bother, but El makes it very difficult to keep that mindset. She sits next to him on the couch, obviously excited not to be alone all day and she doesn’t even have to get up if he needs anything.
By the time Hopper gets back from work, he has relaxed into the couch and is laughing along with the tellanovellas El seems to adore, explaining stuff to her she doesn’t get.
Over the eight weeks it takes him to recover, Steve feels better than he has ever done in his own home. He goes back to school, Hopper dropping him off each day without complaint. He also drives Steve back home, often accompanied by one or more of the other rugrats and them along with El, will hang out at the cabin.
Hopper is of little help when it comes to homework, but he doesn’t mind it when Steve gets frustrated or doesn’t get it, telling him to take it easy on his brain after rattling it again. It’s nice, someone caring like that.
The summer is coming closer, as is his graduation. Rejection letters are starting to pile up on a welcome mat he barely crosses anymore. He knows at some point he’ll have to face his parents and they won’t be happy with him, but for now he lets himself enjoy having a family.
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suddenlyinlove · 1 year
Text
Fic recs where Eddie breaks Steve's heart and then Steve finds happiness in somewhere else and Eddie regrets it? Tumblr or ao3
I'm craving to be hurt. I just read a Tumblr fic where Eddie didn't believe that Steve was actually gay/bi, and then saw him in the future happy with another man.
I want to see Eddie abandoning Steve to pursue his music career. I want to see Eddie not believing Steve is not playing a joke and being heartless. I want to see Eddie bringing up Steve's past and using it against him. I want to see Eddie and his friends being a complete and total asshole to Steve, and the kids and Robin defending Steve. I want to see Eddie breaking Steve's heart and Steve making it out okay.
Yes I just went through a breakup and I'm coping, why do you ask
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livingfast04 · 11 months
Text
Monster Au? - Part 7
one two three four five six II eight
TW: Body Horror, Disordered Eating, anxiety, dehumanization, refences to past child abuse, refences to emotional abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, biting (not the fun kind),vomiting.
---
Hi? That’s it Munson? Fucking Hi? Gods above, are you fucking stupid. Steve stares at him, and Eddie stupidly lifts his hand up to wave awkwardly. This was a terrible idea, Steve just kept staring at him, wide eyed- as if. Eddie shifted from foot to foot, this was terrible, this was so fucking stupid. 
“I-” “Ed-” Eddie snapped his jaw shut, his gums aching from the sharp clamp. Steve’s mouth was slightly parted, Eddie could see the points of sharp teeth. They stand there for a little while longer, taking each other in? At least that’s what Eddie’s doing, Steve’s heart beat is much easier to hear from the close proximity, despite Steve’s outward appearance of skin and bone. Eddie- Eddie can’t take his eyes off him- 
He’s almost skeletal, his clothes are too big, and it’s like the other lost over a hundred pounds of weight. Steve’s thin, his eyes are shrunken against his skin, they are mostly hidden behind almost stringy like hair that flops down past Steve’s chin. Like he desperately needs to wash it, but hasn’t- 
Eddie traced over the pale skin he could see, there was a stark almost lack of pigment, as if Steve had never been outside a day in his life- blue veins- and far more freckles than Eddie remembers trace over the younger boy's skin. As if the color had concentrated to tiny little dots-
Steve doesn’t look remotely human, not with his lamp like eyes, Eddie stares at the youngers bones, at the knobbiness of his elbows-
Steve- Steve’s just as supernatural as Eddie is- 
Steve doesn’t smell like he’s dying- Well, Eddie parts his lips, tries not to be obvious about the way he sucks in a mouthful of the air. He still smelled sick, but not, not as bad as before- it was laid over with a hefty amount of sadness, anxiety and a rising amount of stress. Eddie stepped just slightly back, ducking his head slightly, dropping his arm down by his side. Giving Steve space, the stress didn’t ease up- but Steve’s heart rate slowed a little. 
Letting out a soft breath, Eddie swallows, “Shit, okay. I-” He pauses, shaking out his limbs and giving his head a little jerk, hair flying in his face. “Steve, I’m, so sorry.” Steve blinks at him, eyes a little lamp-like, big confused and wide. “I’m so sorry, I hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got too angry at you to listen to my nose. I got upset and should have realized something deeper was so incredibly wrong-” Eddie takes a huge deep breath, “I was stupid, I was stupid and dumb, and I will regret it for the rest of my life.” Steve opens his mouth slightly, showing off those sharp teeth- Eddie gives a tiny shake of his head. “And I’m not apologizing because you are supernatural, or because I want back in the house. I could give less of a shit about the house. I’m,” Eddie pauses for a moment, catching his breath, vampire or not he does need to do that- “I’m apologizing because we treated- I treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve that.”
Steve stared at him, looking just as confused and lost as he had before Eddie started. Eddie shifted, rocking back on his heels, he worked his jaw, “I- I’m not asking you to forgive me. Ever, not now and not in the future. I just, you deserve an apology, and I’ve already taken too much time to even get here to do that.” 
The silence that followed wasn’t tense, it was just heavy. Eddie shuffled, he didn’t really know what he was waiting for. Maybe for Steve to slam the door in his face, or scream at him. There was movement in the house, and Eddie gave a half step back, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m going to-” “Stephan? Baby? Who's at the door?” Steve’s head twisted around at the voice, Eddie frozen on the steps. Staring at the other. The younger boy glanced at him, back in the house- and then back at Eddie. The confusion was almost gone, and Eddie could smell some of that sad, eased off- loneliness, it flooded his nose.
Steve snapped his jaw a little, Eddie could hear his teeth click twice. “My friend Eddie” His voice was rough, Steve’s light colored eyes met his. Brown- thick, the color there was- The woman, probably Steve’s Mom actually, peaked over Steve’s shoulder. She had the same freckles as Steve did- the same almost lamp like look. She was just as unnerving to witness. 
She looks him over, almost hooking her chin over Steve’s shoulder- “Eddie?” Eddie could almost feel like she already knew who he was. “Eddie Munson.” Steve’s voice was clipped, not detached or that bitchy tone that Eddie remembers from High School. It was tired, stressed, and incredibly rough as if Steve hasn’t been talking almost at all. They really hadn’t spoken to Steve, so it probably wasn’t that far from the truth. The woman blinked at him, tapping her forehead against Steve’s- and then she stood up. She was taller than Steve, at least like this, Steve was shorter this way too now that Eddie was realizing. “Munson? As in Wayne Munson’s boy?” “I- uh, Yes Ma’am?” Eddie chokes out the response. And then she nods, it almost looks disjointed as if she’s not used to nodding. “The Vampire boy.” Steve made a small noise in the back of his throat, Eddie wrinkled his nose at being addressed as such. The Vampire Boy. “The one who was here, with that group.” Her disdain is loud, and Eddie doesn’t even have to fight a bristle, he was mad at them too, her anger was understandable. Steve shrugs, and Eddie- Eddie nods, strong and sharp. He’ll reap the consequences of his actions, and he’ll take those from whoever thinks he deserves the shit beaten out of him. Because honestly he does. 
She glances over Eddie for a minute, “I made hamburgers for Dinner.” She turns around and walks back in the house. Leaving Eddie alone with Steve, her words hanging over them. Eddie looks at Steve for a long moment, and Steve looks at him- his eyes are soft, nervous, it’s all there- A thin scar covered face, scared lips turn up just slightly. It’s wobbly and anxious, it’s an invitation. Eddie gives a wobbly smile in return. Steve steps out of the doorway, shuffling back a little bit leaving the entryway wide open. It’s- it’s an invitation, and Eddie doesn’t want it. He really doesn’t want it- He shifts side to side a little bit, “I- I don’t,” Steve’s smile gets a little bigger, “Come on, she-” Steve’s voice crackles, “She won’t take no for an answer.” Okay, fuck, alright. Eddie shuffles up and into the house.
---
Steve isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing. His skin crawls, but- but Eddie apologized. And that has to mean something, right? The monster in his bones takes it at face value, having more of Pack back. It’s nauseating, it's disgusting, that he and the thing that lives in his brain agree, but Steve hates it, he hates it all. Eddie waits for him to shut and lock the door, doesn’t move from the entry way other than to take off his shoes. Steve doesn’t know what to do with that entirely. Mama has turned down the radio in the kitchen some, at least Steve thinks so. 
He’s not even sure what her reasoning is for letting Eddie in the house. If Dad was home, he’d have probably slammed the door in Eddie’s face with little care for why he was there, or if what the older boy had to say was important or not. With little care for Steve’s feelings on the matter. Mama has a little more tact, but she’s still His mother, she’s just the same as she’s ever been. And Josefina Harrington is still a mega bitch, it’s almost just her general state of being, Steve had to learn it from somewhere. And it certainly wasn’t going to be from Dad. 
Steve is hesitant to pass Eddie, but he almost stumbles past, off balance more today. Eddie’s hands lift up as if to steady him- they never touch him, something cries out in his chest, claws at his skin. Always at arm's length, never touched, he didn’t want him either- Mama is swaying gently to whatever is playing on the little radio in the kitchen, it’s too low for Steve’s fucked ears to pick up on. But she looks calm, happy- not like she’s plotting to murder Eddie. “Have you eaten yet?” Her eyes are on Eddie, she knows that Steve had a bowl of fruit and a yogurt for lunch.
Eddie waves his band in the air, “I had a bloodpop and meat cubs like 25 minutes ago, but I’ll eat again if you have enough for me. Ma’am.” Steve shuffles around the counter towards his Mama, and she hums at him, knocking her head against his when he gets close enough.
She let out a little soft coo at him. Steve didn’t respond verbally to the soothing noise, instead he knocked their heads together again, pressing his nose to her cheek before moving away. Still within arms reach, but not touching. He doesn’t want to corrupt her with his wrongness any more than he already has. 
He could almost feel Eddie’s eyes following him, burning into his skin; Steve wasn’t brave enough to try and turn around to figure out what exactly was hiding in the vampire’s gaze. Mama does it for him, well not really- Steve curls his fingers, leaning against the island counter. “Josefina, or Josie, None of this Ma’am stuff. At least not while Richard isn’t home,” Mama doesn’t even call Dad Richard when she’s at home, at least when they don’t have Guests. He’s normally Richy, or sometimes James. “And of course we have enough, I invited you in, didn't I?” Steve wrinkles his nose, blinking a little sluggish at her. Avoiding Eddie’s imploring gaze, eyes fixated on the patties she was warming slightly on the stove. They were probably the weird frozen kind that Mama buys when she doesn’t want to put them together from scratch. His stomach cramps at the smell and at the idea of eating.
They sit in silence for a minute before Mama turns on Steve with a soft but sharp edged look, “You will sit down, or I will make you get back in bed.” He glanced at the chairs, at where Eddie was standing between the stools there. Steve breathes heavily, his sides ache, and his bones hurt from standing for so long.
He scratches at his wrist. Eddie pulls the stool out next to him, and Steve guesses the choice is made for him. Shuffling across the floor, he tucks up into the chair drawing his knees to his chest. Eddie isn’t warm, not entirely. But he’s solid.
Resisting the urge to lean off the back of the chair and against Eddie’s side draws most of his attention. Mama and Eddie talk about what Steve would never know- it’s, it’s movie nights all over again. Alone, Alone-Letting Eddie in the house was a mistake, this was all a mistake- Steve draws his arms over the top of his knees, biting sharp teeth down into his arm. Locks his jaw, digging into the little meat on his forearm as he can, mouth filling with blood. Copper coating his tongue, laving his tongue against his skin, pressing it there.
It was warm, and with the way he had his jaw clamped around his wrist- swallowing a mouthful of his own blood didn’t sound all that appealing. It dripped down his chin. Steve jerked back at a sharp hiss, tearing at the skin on his arms, effectively dragging deeper lines, blood welling up. Eddie hissed again, twisting Steve’s chair around with a startling amount of strength- fingers pressed against his jaw, as if trying to pry his mouth open. Steve’s mind sparked at the contact, whatever was left of their frayed pack bond bloomed on the edges of his mind. It buzzed in his ears and Steve clicked- 
Mouth full of blood, pressing copper against all his senses, it was spilling down the back of his throat. “Steve let go.” Eddie’s voice was rough, harsh- Steve’s head spins, his heart pounding in his ears. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, the blood in his throat thick, slimy- too warm- his stomach cramps. “Stevie you have to let go- you’re hurting yourself-'' Steve knows that, he can tell- he digs his teeth in a little deeper, clamps his eyes shut, tears squeeze through he can feel them, the top half of his face getting wet. His teeth scrape bone. A new freshway of blood pools heavily on his tongue, spills down his throat, thick and heavy- 
Steve’s ribs squeezed his lungs, he gagged, what was stuck in his throat filling his mouth. His stomach heaves. Eddie curses, grabbing his jaw and prying it open. Steve gags again, shoving at Eddie, snarling and snapping as he bends at the waist, vomiting all over the floor. The whole room smells like blood. Steve spit a glob on the floor before gagging again. Tears curl down his face, he hates this, he hates all of this. 
Eddie lets out a cooing noise, soft and somewhat like Mama’s sounds- but it’s different, Mama’s not- Mama’s not here. Logically Steve knows she is, but his brain’s all screwy. It's all wrong. 
Steve lets out a loud distressed whine, blood coating his lips as his stomach cramps. All of this is terrible- it hurts, hurts- his arm throbs. “You’re okay Stevie, your mom went to get something to clean up. She’ll be right back.” Eddie’s voice was high, probably panicked, but the older was clearly trying his damn best to make sure Steve wasn’t freaking out. 
His chest heaved, gagging around, his chest hurt, his stomach hurt- and it was- Steve whined again, “I know sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry honey.” the animalistic urge to bare his teeth at Eddie gnawed on his skin, crawled through his bones. Steve felt untethered. Mama comes back, he can smell her more than he can hear her. Lets her and Eddie sit him up, lets her inspect his teeth marks, stares numbly forwards and says nothing as she stiches them up because his arm is basically torn open.  Steve just lets it all happen around him, doesn’t respond to her vocal calls, or Eddie’s soothing tones. His mind buzzes. Steve feels empty.
--- I know I said Untuned Piano first, but this one demanded attention. Probably due to me actually looking at my Asks and having a spark of fleeting motivation. So I scrambled to get it done and then spent the past like 2 days working on this instead of my school work. If it shit I apologize. I've rewritten this portion like four times. Was never really happy with it, but I'm chill with this. Though when this goes up on Ao3 (If I ever get my dumbass around to doing it), I'll probably rewrite a bunch of it, and add some stuff in. So it'll be worth it to read it over there too! :D
Thank you for your comments!! I crave validation and you are all incredibly nice and very motivating :)) <3 Fingers cross Depression doesn't knock me on my ass before I can get anything done.
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