steddiebrainrott

[steddiebrainrott]

(Continuing from this in the Steve Has A Broken Arm Universe apparently)

Hopper desperately needs caffeine.

Sarah’s doing this cute little thing called sleep regression. He was up with her all night and is so tired that he genuinely considered letting Callahan drive. He needs coffee. Now.

It’s the only thing he’s focused when he walks into the diner and takes a seat at the bar. He barely notices the kid next to him until-

“Hi, Mr Hopper,” Steve says. He throws his hands over his head when Hopper looks over at him, “Don’t touch my hair. Everybody touches my hair.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

Steve is slow to lower his defenses which bother Hopper. He ignored the feeling and instead, gestures to the grass stains on Steve’s baseball uniform, “Have a game today?”

“Yeah,” He perks up, slamming a dirty baseball on the counter between them. “Look at this. It’s the game ball. Coach Hammond gave it to me ‘cause I had the winning hit. I hit the ball so far that it almost touched the fence. Isn’t that cool?”

Before Hopper can reply, Party fills his mug with fresh coffee and says, “You hear that? We got ourselves a future major leaguer here, Hop.”

Steve lights up even more and tells Hopper with big serious eyes and a bright smile, “Coach says I’m the best on the team. I think he really means it, too.”

“I’m sure he does,” Hopper tells him. “Benny typically says what he means.”

“He said that if I practice real hard during off-season that maybe next year, I can move up to kid pitch,” Steve tells him. “That’s a big deal, Mr Hopper. Those are nine year olds.”

“Sounds like it,” Hopper nods. “Are you here celebrating your win?”

“No, I’m waitin’ for my dad,” Steve says and the smile in Hopper dies. “Miss Patty says I can sit here ‘cause I ordered a cookie. That means I’m a paying customer an’ not Lloyd-a-ring.”

Hopper doesn’t respond to that. Instead he turns on his stool to face away from the bar the same way Steve was. He scanned the restaurant before asking, “Your dad couldn’t make your game?”

“Dad has a meeting here,” Steve says, not actually answering Hopper’s question with is pretty par for course when it comes to his parents. “I saw it on his agenda yesterday. I’m gonna show him my ball an’ he’ll be proud of me.”

Hopper hums, “He should always be proud of you.”

“He’s gonna be here any minute,” Steve says. “Then I gotta go home and show Mama.”

So neither parent went to his game. Good to know.

“-and then I’m staying the night at Tommy’s,” Steve continues. “I like Tommy’s dad, Mr David, even if he’s not a real doctor ‘cause he only looks at teeth. He’s real strong ‘cause he pick me up. He’s strong than my dad ‘cause my dad don’t pick me up no - Dad!”

Steve jumps off his stool and runs towards his father, nearly knocking the man over before he gets through the door. Steve’s chattering excitably and the first thing Richard says is, “Steven, stop.”

Steve steps back at the tone but then Richard makes eye contact with Hopper. There’s a moment of hesitation before he runs a hand through his son’s hair, “Your hair is a mess.”

Steve jerks his head back, swears, “I brushed it this morning. I promise. I wanna show-“

“And you got dirt on my suit,” Richard sighed, moving towards a booth as he brushes the dust off his leg. He gestures behind him to the person he’s with, “Steven, manners.”

“Hi, Uncle Larry,” Steve greets like he’s reading a script. “I’m gonna vote for you for mayor.”

Larry Kline has never won an election but it doesn’t stop him from fake laughing like a real politician, ruffling Steve’s hair. He comments on the cast on Steve’s arm. Richard tenses up and Steve’s avoids the topic, “Uh-huh, it’s cool. I was waiting for you guy ‘cause-“

“Because.”

“Because,” Steve stresses. “Coach Hammond says-“

“Steven,” Richard sighs. “That’s nice but Uncle Larry and I have a campaign to plan. You can tell me later.”

“But…”

“Would you rather your uncle lose another election?”

“No?”

“Okay, then-“

“Nonsense, Dickie,” Larry laughs, sweeping Steve up and sitting him in the booth. “Let the kid see the American experiment in action. We could have a future president on our hands.”

Hopper loses a bit of the conversation as the lunch rush starts to pour in but he can see the way they snort at the prospect. He can see the way Steve’s bright eyes dim and his shoulders slump when he sits down with them.

Hopper drinks his second cup of coffee and walks over to the table.

“Dick,” He addresses. “I heard your boy is staying with The Hagans tonight. I’m driving that way. I can drop him off.”

It’s an out. They all know it.

Richard Harrington lives up to the name though and instead of offloading a kid he doesn’t even want there, turns to his son and asks, “What do you want to do, Steven? Go with the police or stay with your father?”

“I…” Steve hesitates. “No, thank you, Mr Hopper. I wanna - I want to learn about elections.”

“Officer Hopper, Steven.”

“Officer Hopper,” Steve revises. “Sorry.”

[steddiebrainrott]

Eddie, every time he saw Hopper for a month when he was eight: Can I hold your gun?

Hopper: No.

Eddie: Can I see it? I’m eight. I’m not a baby like those other kids.

Hopper: No.

Eddie: Can you shoot your gun so I can see it?

Hopper, genuinely: Shoot it where? We’re in a public park.

Steve, seven years old: You can shoot it that way

Steve: *points at Callahan*

[steddiebrainrott]

Little goblin man

[steddiebrainrott]

cover that man's tits, i can't hear what he's saying

[steddiebrainrott]

Robin: my biggest fear is that Dustin will somehow invent time travel and will go back in time to stop all of this from happening. Then me and you never become friends.

Robin: also rabies.

Steve: my biggest fear is that he dies

Dustin: ?

Dustin: I’ll try not to do either.

[steddiebrainrott]

djoc

[steddiebrainrott]

Steddie | modern au | famous actor Steve Harrington | 3.4k | ao3

from this post

Eddie can’t stop the laugh that comes out of him because of the video on his screen, Gareth snickering next to him.

“This is great, I have to show this to the others later,” Eddie says. His fingers move automatically, pressing on the send icon and then on the profile at the very top, a move he has done hundreds of times.

“Dude, did you just send that to Steve Harrington?” Gareth asks with a dumbfounded tone.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you acting like that’s normal?”

“Because it is? I just send him the posts I find funny to find them later.”

“You know there is a way to save posts so that they are organized, right?”

“I don’t like it and this is like way easier.”

“It’s literally not,” Gareth says, but Eddie doesn’t pay attention to him or stop.

“Look,” he goes to the front page, slides to the dms and opens the conversation with Steve Harrington, always at the top. “It’s just right there.” He starts scrolling up to show him the long string of unanswered memes and videos, but Gareth interrupts him.

“Wait, wait. Scroll back down, what the fuck is that? Does he read your messages?” He is pointing to the little icon with Harrington’s profile picture just above the last video he’s sent. Eddie shrugs.

“It’s probably a bored media guy enjoying some memes on the clock or making sure I’m not a weirdo, it’s not like Steve Harrington actually uses this account.”

“You are a weirdo, I’m surprised you are not blocked yet.”

-

Eddie is on his phone, passing the time as he keeps an eye on the lonely customer currently looking through the new vinyls. It’s a routine, a mindless action as he saves another post to show the guys later, preferring to see their reactions in person. Nothing ever happens, that’s why he gets surprised to the point of sitting up when a notification appears on his screen.

Steve.hrrgtn: Dude, you just made me laugh in the middle of a table reading

Eddie freezes as the notification disappears. Did he see that right? He couldn’t have seen that right.

He goes to his dms and surely, there at the top, is a message from THE Steve Harrington, or at least from his account. A table reading. It has to be him, right? Not an intern or a media guy. The one and only.

Eddie sends a look to the customer, still engrossed in the new releases. He is tempted to call her so she can check if the message is real or an hallucination provoked by his boredom. When he looks down, the message is still there. It is also still there when he opens the conversation. His fingers hover over screen.

He can picture him, sitting around a long table with his castmates, hiding his phone like a student in class but unable to keep his laugh in.

The vision is a bit surreal. He made Steve Harrington laugh.

Batking: why are you looking at your phone in the middle of a table reading

Steve.hrrgtn: new season boring af

It’s Eddie the one that can’t keep his laugh in this time. The girl sends him a look, but he doesn’t care.

Batking: should you be telling me that?

 Steve.hrrgtn: I don’t even care at this point tbh

Batking: you are the one that signed the contract my guy

Steve.hrrgtn: I didn’t

Steve.hrrgtn: Never let your parents sign you into a multi season show when you are fifteen

Batking: I’ll keep that in mind for my next life

Batking: Sorry your parents made you a millionaire and famous

Steve.hrrgtn: 💀💀💀

Steve.hrrgtn: but really, at the time I thought hey it’s only a contract for five seasons for a teen drama, how bad could it be?

Steve.hrrgtn: now here I am, almost ten years later, listening to the worst script you have heard in your life

Batking: that does sound awful

Batking: you are making me happy that my folks are not in the picture

Is Eddie about to vent about his life to Steve fucking Harrington? It seems like it.

In the end, he doesn’t, because Harrington doesn’t answer to his message, probably swept away into actually working, or maybe he realised how weird it was that he was talking so casually to a guy he didn’t know.

Eddie doesn’t have time to wallow on it too much, because the girl comes to the counter with a vinyl and a question. The interaction with the famous actor moving to a part of Eddie’s brain normally reserved to daydreams.

-

Eddie thought that his interaction with Steve Harrington would be a one time thing, the guy looking at his phone because he was too bored and answering his message because, by some kind of cosmic coincidence, Eddie had happened to send it at the perfect moment. Just an impulsive action that he had regretted later. That’s why he is surprised when he gets a new notification after sending him the worst kind of shitpost ever, the ones that the algorithm feeds him at 2am – the current time – and send him in a fit of giggles with their complete absurdity.

Steve.hrrgtn: where do you even find these things

Batking: you are just jealous my algorithm is better than yours

Steve.hrrgtn: yeah everyday I dream about my instagram showing me a pig made with a sausage and sticks surfing some rotating meat skewers

Batking: It made you laugh though

Steve.hrrgtn: …..

Steve.hrrgtn: It did

Eddie lets out a short, disbelieving snort. It’s a bit crazy, knowing that somewhere out there a famous heartthrob is looking at his messages at 2am and laughing.

Unless this is the media guy.

Eddie prefers to believe that he is so funny he made a guy with millions of followers want to talk to him. Twice.

Batking: why are you awake at this hour anyway

Batking: shouldnt you be getting your beauty sleep

Steve.hrrgtn: we start filming the new season tomorrow

Steve.hrrgtn: today?

Steve.hrrgtn: and I can’t sleep

Batking: nightmares about the boring script

Batking: I see

Steve.hrrgtn: you could say that

Batking: well, check this out, your nightmares will go away

He sends another stupid meme (of the best kind, the ones from accounts that write in Cyrillic) and receives a set of skull emojis in answer.

-

Steve.hrrgtn: why have you stopped sending me memes

The message takes Eddie by surprise. It’s been a week since he texted with Steve Harrington for the second time – which still feels a bit surreal-, and he had decided to stop bothering the poor guy now that he knew he saw his messages. Going to his saved posts was still a nightmare, but Eddie knew how to behave.

Batking: didnt want to bother you now that you are working and I know you see them

Steve.hrrgtn: they have been my main entertainment for months you can’t just stop now when I need them most

Eddie blinks at the message. Months? The confirmation stuns him. The one that had been seeing his messages had always been him and not some media guy? Eddie remembers catching his name a few times on his Instagram stories. This is a bit trippy, if he is honest.

Batking: okay

Batking: as my liege commands

Batking: from now on I am your knight in shining armour your sole provider of memes

-

Batking: *reel attached*

Batking: did you kill the villain today?

Steve.hrrgtn: This is a teen drama???

-

Batking: *reel attached*

Batking: so, is the bad guy dead yet?

Steve.hrrgtn: Again???

Steve.hrrgtn: I told you like a thousand times that there is no bad guy to kill

Steve.hrrgtn: have you even watched my show?

Batking: I mean the scriptwriter

Steve.hrrgtn: lmao

Steve.hrrgtn: no, he is sadly not dead yet

Steve.hrrgtn: I think killing him would be a breach of my contract somehow

Batking: a pity

Batking: the way he insists on making your character straight? He deserves death.

Batking: don’t worry joe from normal life, I saw the way you looked at dacre, I know what you are

Steve.hrrgtn: I think that might have just been the way I was looking at Billy, the guy’s fucking hot

Steve.hrrgtn: an asshole though, glad he is not on the show anymore

Eddie pauses, his eyes reading the last two messages time and time again. Did Steve Harrington, heartthrob and ladies man, just admit to being attracted to a male coworker? Eddie’s thumbs hover over the keyboard. He looks up at Gareth from his place in their couch. He is not paying attention to him, too focused on his laptop.

Eddie is having a bit of a crisis here and his roommate is ignoring him. Maybe it’s best that he is, Eddie doesn’t really want to share this with anyone. Should he bring attention to it? Should he just ignore it and brush it off? The decision is not that difficult in the end. He needs to know. He knows that there is no way he has any possibility of actually bagging Steve Harrington. Exchanging messages and memes is one thing, a pseudo friendship is one thing, but something more? Not fucking likely.

He still needs to know.

Batking: did I just get exclusive confirmation that Steve Harrington likes men? Should I call tmz?

Steve.hrrgtn: you wouldn’t get any money

Steve.hrrgtn: I’ve been out as bisexual for years, the media just chooses to ignore it

Steve.hrrgtn: wow look at these pictures of Steve Harrington with his new male best friend that he goes to dinner and all premieres with! Totally platonic! Oh now they have stopped hanging out completely? What could have happened to their friendship?

Steve.hrrgtn: he cheated on me, that’s what happened

Eddie blinks at his screen. So, he had tried to avoid learning anything about Steve that the man didn’t tell him himself. Just a chivalrous, treat the guy like a normal person gesture, but now he is wondering if he should have paid a bit more attention.

Batking: ah yes, the joys of compulsory heterosexuality and conformity

Batking: that sucks, dude

Steve.hrrgtn: did you really not know anything about it?

Batking: sorry to burst your celebrity bubble where everyone knows everything about your life

Steve.hrrgtn: no no, it’s… nice

Steve.hrrgtn: I have a question though

Steve.hrrgtn: why did you start sending me memes if you were not really interested in me?

Batking: well

Batking: I needed someone very famous that wasnt likely to really see my messages and seemed chill enough to not block me immediately

Batking: and dude, you are like waaay more famous than the show you are in, it’s ridiculous, thought you must be a douche for a long time

Batking: but an interview with you and your friend Robin showed up on my fyp and I saw that you were pretty chill

Batking: so it was between you and Timothee Chalamet

Batking: and it ended up being you because you are hotter

Steve.hrrgtn: of course I am

Steve.hrrgtn: thank you for choosing me tho

Batking: anyone would have

Steve.hrrgtn: the casting director of a complete unknown didn’t think the same

Batking: well thats THEIR loss

Batking: you do a great job with the shitty script of normal life

Batking: you would have acted the fuck out of bob dylan

Steve.hrrgtn: I do a better job in my other stuff

Batking: you have other stuff??

Batking: I’m going to be honest with you here, I only watched normal life so I had context to bitch about the boring new season with you

Eddie looks at the three little dots that indicate that Steve is writing appear a disappear a few times. Did he fuck up? Maybe he sounded too eager, maybe Steve thought it was a bit weird that Eddie assumed they would continue talking. But they have been talking for weeks now. Was it bad to assume?

Eddie closes the app, deciding to give the guy some privacy to write down what he wants to write down and heads to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. If Gareth senses the way his mood has soured, he doesn’t say anything about it.

It takes a couple of hours for an answer to appear. It’s simple.

Steve.hrrgtn: that’s nice of you

-

It’s Steve the one that starts the conversation a couple of days after that. Eddie only sees his messages an hour after he sends them, too busy with customers. The group of notifications on his screen when he is finally able to look at his phone very welcome.

Steve.hrrgtn: so I just realised

Steve.hrrgtn: well, my best friend made me realise

Steve.hrrgtn: she basically said that it’s weird that I’ve been talking with you for weeks and don’t know anything about your actual life and that you could actually be a stalker with a lot of patience or something like that

Steve.hrrgtn: so tell me about yourself? You are not living like down the street from me and waiting for the right moment to kidnap me like Robin says are you?

Eddie tries not to feel giddy at the thought of Steve talking about him to his friends. He has not done it himself, mostly because he tried once and they made fun of his ‘delusions’ as they called it. Whatever. He doesn’t really expect Steve to still be online, probably already swept out to his own job, so he just sends his answer.

Batking: a very reasonable fear, some facts to follow

Batking: I live as far from you as you live from Chicago

Batking: I am a humble employee at a record store where I have to deal with pretentious assholes daily that don’t really care about music and just about bragging about their record collection

Batking: I also have a band with my friends

Batking: we have a whooping 1756 listeners on spotify

Batking: I know, I know, you didn’t know you were talking with a rockstar try not to be very starstruck

The answer, to his surprise, comes almost immediately.

Steve.hrrgtn: 1757

Batking: what?

Steve.hrrgtn: what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t listen to your band now that I know it exists?

Eddie would be lying if he said that that didn’t make his heart skip a beat. Is this healthy? Probably not. Is he developing a weird parasocial relationship with the guy? Probably yes, but is it even a parasocial relationship if he is actually talking with the guy and he called him his friend? This should be considered a normal crush, a normal, hopeless crush.

Batking: a very shitty one tbh here’s the link

Steve.hrrgtn: can I ask something else?

Batking: course

Steve.hrrgtn: you only have one pic in your profile and it’s with your friends

Steve.hrrgtn: which one are you?

Eddie taps the back of his phone a few times. It’s only natural that Steve would wonder that. He could just tell him, or… Eddie opens the camera and takes a picture, too close to see his face properly but enough that Steve will know who he is in the group picture now.

Batking: *picture attached*

Batking: this one

Steve.hrrgtn: fuck

-

Steve.hrrgtn: okay so the thought of you only seeing me in normal life is eating me alive

The notification comes when Eddie is with his friends, preparing for a night of DnD. Eddie was looking up some music to get the atmosphere going, but the music app immediately gets abandoned in lieu of the message.

Batking: can’t get me out of your head?

He knows he has been unable to keep the stupid smile out of his face when Jeff tries to glance at his screen. Eddie immediately slams the phone against his chest.

“Jeez, I thought you were looking at stupid memes again, who are you texting that got you smiling like that?” Jeff asks. He moves back to sit straight, so Eddie can look at his phone again.

“No one,” he says as he reads the new message.

Steve.hrrgtn: so I have a couple of indie films that are very good

So Steve has decided to ignore his message. Okay.

“He’s been like this for WEEKS now,” Gareth intervenes as he sits down at his spot. “He said it was Steve Harrington when I asked him when he started and has refused to say anything else.”

“The white boy of the month?” Jeff asks.

“White boy of the century,” Eddie feels the need to correct.

Batking: that’s great and all but I can’t watch your limited release indie films anywhere

Steve.hrrgtn: that’s why I’m sharing a link to the latest one with you

Steve.hrrgtn: don’t share it with anyone though

Batking: aw breaking the rules for little ol me?

Steve.hrrgtn: yeah yeah don’t get too cocky now

Steve.hrrgtn: can’t wait for your reaction 😉

Eddie stares at the winking emoji in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Can you stop texting your white boy of the century now so we can start?” Gareth asks.

“Just a second.” Eddie sends a quick message back before he moves to the music app again, chooses the first song he sees and puts the phone down.

Batking: send it to me, soldier, I will watch it tonight and give you my honest opinion

-

Eddie stares at the screen of his laptop, currently on his thighs as he was lounging on his bed, seeing the film Steve had sent to him. The film is currently paused, Steve’s face staring at him with eyes and mouth half open.

Okay, so Eddie just watched his famous guy turned friend have an orgasm – fake! Fake an orgasm, Eddie feels it’s very important that he makes that clear to himself – on screen after probably the most erotic sex scene he has seen in a non porno in the last 10 years. Fuck. How did he not know about the existence of this? How did this not make the news? Probably because it was with another man. Double fuck.

Maybe this is normal for Steve, for actors in general, to send their friends a link to a film where you have a soul shattering orgasm with a message about wanting to know their reaction with a winking emoji. It is not normal for Eddie. It is also not normal for his dick, who has not gotten the memo about this not being something it should be getting so excited about.

Eddie bites his lip. His finger moves on its own, backing the film a few minutes so the scene plays again. Eddie tries to convince himself that this is not weird if Steve was the one that wanted him to see this in the first place.

Eddie curses and takes a deep breath. He eyes his phone. It’s late, nearly midnight, but he knows that Steve is normally away at this hour.

Maybe this is not normal for Steve either, maybe he did want to get some kind of reaction out of Eddie.

Eddie snaps a picture of his laptop screen, careful to get the tent in his pants just in the edge of the picture. It’s very obvious on it what scene he is watching.

Batking: *picture attached*

Batking: you sure know how to get a guy hot and bothered

Maybe he can play it off as a joke if Steve didn’t mean it like Eddie wants him to mean it.

Steve.hrrgtn: glad to see my acting is that good

Fuck, Eddie fucked it up, right?

Steve.hrrgtn: it did come out very natural

Steve.hrrgtn: but the real thing looks better

Eddie feels on the edge of a precipice, as if there should be a warning on his field of vision about how his choice here will change the trajectory of his story.

Batking: can’t say

Batking: I haven’t seen the real thing, so I can’t really compare them, can I?

Steve.hrrgtn: would you want to?

Eddie can’t get his hopes up, he can’t assume, Steve is so out of his league, this can’t be happening to him.

Batking: have you acted in a porno I don’t know about?

Steve.hrrgtn: are you always this dense?

Eddie’s heart is dying in his chest, that’s the only explanation to how it’s feeling.

He doesn’t have time to type an answer, Eddie’s screen is suddenly filled with something else.

Steve Harrington is video calling him.

Eddie has never accepted a call so fast in his life before.

part 2...???

tag list: @steddiefication @tailsfromthecrypt @orionchildofhades @coralineinwonderland @theohohmoment (you didn't ask me to tag you but I guessed you'd want to see it?)

[steddiebrainrott]

I'm sick and tired of "Robin and Eddie are gay friends with the inextricable bond of the unpopular, and Steve, as a popular, is not invited to the club."

First of all, how dare you separate Robin from Steve; alone, they're hopeless, but together, they're unstoppable.

Second of all:

What about Steve, whose high school cliques experience might have been more broken down into an awareness of all the different sports teams and then also a big broad sort of "not jocks" grouping that probably had some gradation of the nerdiness scale at most, being like "As someone who has come to realize that not-jocks and even nerds specifically are a-ok, Eddie Munson is probably completely fine except for the part where he's stealing all my friends,"

and Robin, as someone far more entrenched in the minutiae of the many, many non-jock clubs and cliques and all their varying social standings and stereotypes and group-wide personality profiling amongst each other, is the half of their duo to go: "What? NO. Eddie Munson is the enemy. We hate him."

Steve: "Sorry, who is 'we'? I just said he's probably fine."

Robin: "Marching band, Steve! Marching band hates him!"

[steddiebrainrott]

steve wip <3

[steddiebrainrott]

steve reads the lord of the rings books for eddie but he gets to “don't leave me here alone! it's your sam calling. don't go where i can't follow!” and starts bawling thinking about himself and robin

[steddiebrainrott]

"came back wrong" what about Came Back Afraid. You used to be brave. Too brave maybe, defying the odds at every turn, a fighter, cocky, playing with fire, first to throw yourself at the enemy. Until one day it all caught up to you. You came back, somehow, but now you know all too intimately how it feels to lose, to die, to be destroyed. Now you flinch and freeze and cower at the slightest provocation. Who even are you now if you can't be brave? The grave may have let you go, but the mortal fear still grips you tighter than ever.

[steddiebrainrott]

one shot | Dustin & Steve | grief | angst | a suggestion of suicidal ideation

They're closing the gates and Vecna is dead. They're closing the gates and Vecna is dead and Dustin won't talk to him. They're closing the gates, Vecna is dead, Dustin won't talk to him, and Steve...is not doing well.

In the aftermath of their first ill-fated attempt to save the town from the veiny bastard, there hadn't been time to do much of anything except what they've always done - fight the battles that definitely weren't their responsibility but were their problem. It was frantic and bloody and relentless. And now it's over. They're alive. Things should be returning to normal.

They are, a little. The Byers-Hopper clan are back in town. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan are getting ready to graduate. El's closing the gates one by one, Max has PT three times a week, and Erica has therapy once, but the rest of the kids are sliding back into their routines. Except Dustin.

Dustin refused to go to school until Claudia convinced him she'd be arrested by the truancy officers if he didn't. At school, he's been getting into fights with anyone who looks at him wrong. He gets ISS every other day, and Claudia's called Steve multiple times to pick him up when he gets sent home and she can't get off work. Steve tries to talk to him when he can, but all he gets in response is, "Shut the fuck up, Steve." Steve knows Dustin's taking Eddie's death hard, but he doesn't know what to do about it, how to make it hurt less. It's Barb all over again, except worse because it's Dustin.

Today, today had been a shit show.

Claudia called him in hysterics because the school told her Dustin had left school grounds. Got up right in the middle of fourth period and walked out. She couldn't find him anywhere. So Steve blew off work and drove all over town until he finally found him at the quarry with a bunch of guys senior burnouts dancing to music from a boombox and getting loaded at 3 in the afternoon.

"Oh, would it be better if we were getting loaded at five in the afternoon Seven? Midnight?" Dustin sneered at him when Steve pointed this out, grabbing the bottle of Jack Dustin was sipping from.

"No," Steve ground out, jerking Dustin up from the grass and marching him to the car.

"Get off me, asshole!" Dustin tried to pull away, but Steve simply bodied him forward, slinging the door open and shoving him in.

Steve shoved a finger at him. "Stay there or I'm getting Hopper out here." Dustin's eyes flared, but he sat back. Steve slammed the door and jogged to get in on the other side.

Dustin stayed sullenly silent as they drove, but Steve had had enough. "What are you doing, man? This isn't good. This isn't you."

Dustin rolled his eyes.

"I know that you're not the kind of kid who goes up to the quarry to drink fucking whiskey while your mom is sick with worry because no one knows where you are."

Steve glanced to the passenger side, but Dustin stared straight ahead, eyes bloodshot, face red.

"Dude, I know you're grieving, but you need to get your shit together."

Finally a reaction. Dustin whipped his head toward Steve. "What the fuck do you know about?"

"I know that whatever you're doing isn't healthy! It's--you need to try a little harder to...to get over it." Steve winced as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Get over it?"

"I didn't mean that--"

"That's your advice, Harrington? Get over it?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I really didn't mean to--"

"Fuck you, Steve. Fuck. You. What have you lost in all of this? Nothing. Everything is hunky dory in Steveland. The rest of us had to actually go through shit, and all you had to do was swing a bat at a few monsters."

"Dude, that's not all I had to do--"

"Where were you when Eddie was getting devoured?"

"I was trying to kill Vecna!"

"You were failing at killing Vecna. Eddie did his job. What were you doing?"

"That's not fair."

"It is fair, you fucking asshole."

"Hey, I got some chunks taken out of me too, asshole. I've got the fucking scars to prove it."

"Oh boo hoo. King Steve isn't so perfect anymore."

Steve breathed in sharply, tried to calm himself, settle the conversation. But it was hard when his eyes were burning. "That's not what I'm trying to say. I'm just saying, I--"

"Spit it out."

He waited until the pulled in front of Dustin's house. He threw the parking break and turned to Dustin.

"I'm still here." His voice is broken and raw. "I know he's gone, but I'm--we're all still here, and we need you. You can't throw yourself away like this."

Dustin eyes blazed for a split second before he fell back into his seat and dropped his head. "I wish it had been you," he muttered, so low Steve could barely hear him.

"What did you say?"

Dustin raised his eyes, stared at Steve straight on. "I wish it was Eddie still here. I wish it had been you."

The pain of his words tore icy hot across Steve's sternum, pummeled him in his gut. Before he could even process it, Dustin was out of the car, running to his house. Steve waited until he got in the door before he drove on autopilot to his own house. He snagged the whiskey bottle Dustin had left in the floorboard and walked mindlessly out to the pool where he laid on a lounger and proceeded to get shitfaced for the next next several hours.

Now he's here with an empty bottle of booze and tears that won't come out. Dustin's words keep looping through is head. He feels the rightness of them deep in his bones. Eddie should be here. What could Steve do for Dustin other than give him shitty advice on girls and say exactly the wrong thing at the absolute worst time? It was...unjust that Eddie was still in that place and Steve was helping Robin study for exams, driving the kids around in his too-small car, riding with Jonathan to get weed from some nobody who'd taken over the territory as soon as Eddie was clearly gone. And what if they'd been wrong? What if Eddie hadn't actually died and they'd just left him there? They'd been so frantic to get out, had he felt for Eddie's pulse well enough? He can't remember. Oh god, he can't remember.

Steve takes one last swig of the whiskey and gets up. He brings the bottle with him, thinking vaguely of the usefulness of broken glass. He makes a pitstop at the garage to grab one of the many bats he has stashed around the house. Then he makes his way, calm and sure, past the pool and into the woods. El's been closing the gates that opened up when they failed to end Vecna. But there are so many of them, it's taking time. Steve doesn't think anyone even remembers that one of the first ones to open is right here, right behind his house. But Steve never forgets it's there. He doesn't know exactly where it is, but he imagines he can feel it calling to him. Maybe that's a stupid thought, but maybe it's not. He's been searching for all of 10 minutes when he sees it: a glow, just out of the corner of his eye. It dances away when he turns toward it, but if he squints, he can see it again. Faint and mesmerizing. He makes his way to it.

He switches the bottle to the same hand as the bat and reaches forward with the one now free. He feels a tingle, a whisper, a pull. It flits through his mind that maybe he should have brought a granola bar or a water bottle. But it's too late now. He pushes forward and falls. The birds chirp quietly in the empty woods.

[steddiebrainrott]

Part 3 to this

Eddie was completely willing to let bygones be what they were.

He did a shitty thing unintentionally. Steve has been doing shitty things for years with zero consequences. They’re even, right?

It’s not like he’s ever going to see Steve again anyways. He doesn’t throw parties anymore and Eddie doesn’t even have a VCR to warrant going into Family Videos.

So, bygones. As in, bye, gone to the stabbing feeling in his chest when he thinks about what happened for too long.

“Robin Buckley’s being weird.”

Eddie blinks back into the chaotic mess of the art room, “Isn’t she always weird?”

“I mean,” Jeff shrugs. “She been glaring at you the entire class. Did the same thing yesterday, too. I don’t even think she’s blinking.”

Eddie looked over his canvas and, yeah. She’s glaring at him. He turns his frown upside down and gives her a little wave which - “Oh. Oh no.”

“Dude,” Jeff hisses. “She’s coming over here.”

The nervous energy that typically hovers around a Robin is strangely absent when she stops next to his table. It’s a little intimidating. As is her cryptic ass greeting, “It’s been four days. You need to apologize.”

“For what?” He asks and then realizes what this is. “Did Steve Harrington really send his coworker to bully me?”

“I’m more than his coworker,” She scoffs. “And that’s not the point. You need to apologize to him. For-.”

“Apologize for what, not watering my club down to make him comfortable?”

Thats not what happened and Eddie knows it. He knows he crossed a line but he doesn’t understand it and it makes him defensive. He can’t make himself shut up, “You can tell him I’m sorry he can’t take a joke.”

Robin’s eyes narrow and then she turns around, calling across the room, “Mrs Keller, does this paint stain?”

“It’s washable.”

Robin nods once to the teacher and then immediately turns around and flips Eddie’s paint tray into his lap. She grabs the bottle of paint he was using and coats him in blue paint before dropping the bottle on the floor.

Her voice is low and unapologetic even as she grabs a handful of napkins for him, “He doesn’t even want an apology. Do it anyways.”

Eddie is left stunned, as is their deathly quiet class, but Robin just turns to the teacher and declares, “I will accept my detention now.”

[steddiebrainrott]

name a more fix-it-fic shippable character than steve harrington i’ll wait

[steddiebrainrott]

Eddie cries out in pain, “ah shitting fuck!” he yells across the bay, reflexively pushing off with a booted foot so his stool rolls away from the danger, his hurt fingers shoved unceremoniously in his mouth to nurse away the sting.

“Whatsit?” Robin sits up in her bunk, fluff of hair sticking up at all angles.

“Nothing. Nothing, sorry, fucking thing shocked me, go back to sleep.”

“Timesit?”

“I dunno,” Eddie looks around vaguely, looking across the untidy bank of tools and control panels he squints at the nearest monitor, “one ish.”

Robin humphs. Rubs at her eyes. Then just, sits for a bit, staring at nothing. “Want a hot drink?” She ends up volunteering, sticking her bare legs out from under the covers and sliding out from her bunk. She pulls on her dungarees from where they were abandoned on the floor.

“You ask me that like we have options,” Eddie peers down at his latest project, sliding a viewer over his mask to get a closer look. The numbers flashing in the peripheral vision make absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever.

Robin yawns, forcing her feet into her boots, the laces loose and scraggly, “sounds better than ‘would you like caffeine reconstituted from the caffeine you pissed out yesterday’, though, right?” It’s a much trodden route, this conversation, one they have most days. It’s familiar, comforting. Shores them up for the long journey. Eddie hums but doesn’t answer, “where’s Chris?”

“Cockpit, said something about checking The Belt again.”

Robin mumbles something about Chrissy’s constant paranoia when it comes to crossing The Belt, but leaves to get them their drinks. Eddie gets it though, they all have their things. Their little routines, their charms, their talismans their...things. Things that get them through. The asteroid belt doesn’t change unless someone changes it, all those little rocks floating around on their reliable courses until...something nudges one. It’s a domino effect then, and crossing the belt is hazardous enough without outside forces fucking it up.

It wasn’t a problem until Mars, the catastrophic failure of the Synthetics, and the war that humanity very squarely lost. There had been laws before, the mining companies who were scalping the belt had a million feet of red tape to get through to make sure they weren't affecting shipping lanes and yada yada yada.

Now. The Synths do whatever the fuck they like, and it’s not like they're ever going to inform humanity of where they’re drilling.

So, Eddie tinkers, Chrissy checks the belt, and Robin bitches at both of them.

“So...what do you think he is?” Robin swivels around uselessly in the chair next to him.

“Sex bot, definitely.”

Robin snorts a laugh, “got a big dick huh?”

“He is very...anatomically correct,” Eddie closes the hatch, tugs carefully at the synths hair until he finds the next panel along, unhitches it with his home brew magnet arrangement. Not how you’re supposed to do it, but Synth construction companies don’t exactly share their tech.

“You sure it’s okay? Bringing him on board?”

Eddie hums vaguely, “no idea what model he is exactly, but the wreckage was old Robs. Pre One old, plus the Mars Synths never go further than the belt, they don’t have a reason to. Depending on how long he’s been floating about...I mean it’s unlikely, is what I’m saying.”

Eddie tries a different connection, moving carefully, the work very fine and delicate, he follows the numbers on his display. The connection slithers tight when it catches, and there’s the very, very slightest hum of a power up. In the corner of Eddie’s vision, the numbers all flash green.

On the table, the Synths eyes open. The iris goes from large to small, pupils go from wide and black to a pinprick, before it relaxes to something resembling normal. Hazel iris’, Eddie can’t help but notice, strange color, for a Synth, not one Eddie’s ever seen before. Green speckled with brown and gold. Really pretty, and far more detail than Eddie’s ever seen in one of these before. Especially for a sex bot model, if that’s what he is.

The Synth blinks four times in quick succession, indicating a hard reboot, his iris’ are now white with a fine blue ring, the beautiful hazel gone.

The eyes close, and the numbers go all haywire. Flashing yellow and red. Eddie watches as the numbers tell him the Synth has powered off again.

“Did it work?” Robin peers over his shoulder.

“No,” Eddie rolls over to his work station, goes over the scans again, “but I don’t know why. He definitely booted that time, but there’s damage that either I can’t find or...it’s too complex for me. It’s hitting a step and then won’t go any further.”

“So it’s software right? Not hardware?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure you’re right. There’s something there, some...thing that keeps failing the boot. Something in memory maybe. I just,” Eddie sighs a little helplessly, “I dunno, you know?”

“Can’t you switch it off?”

Eddie scoffs, “what, his memory?”

“Yeah? I mean, if he’s a house bot, he’ll forget how to change a diaper and make a Martini, if he’s a worker he’ll forget how to fucking,” she gestures helplessly, “wire in lights, or whatever the fuck they have them doing. Plowing fields, I don’t know. And if he’s a sex bot, he’ll forget about the twenty thousand vaginas he’s probably licked. Does it matter?”

“I...I could try it.” Eddie frowns, thinking it through, “I mean, the base programming is unavoidable, it’ll apply no matter what but...I don’t know exactly how that’ll leave him.”

She shrugs, “then just, turn him off, if the basics are there then the kill switch is there, right? The laws?”

“Yeah, that stuffs hardwired, there’s no bypassing it. Well,” Eddie gestures vaguely, “except for One.”

Robin nods, “except for One.” She agrees.

They both sit quietly for a moment, contemplating the disaster on Mars. The loss of life, even though it happened before either of them were born, it’s left a stark shadow on all of society. All of history.

Eddie slaps his thighs decisively, breaking their reverie, “I’m going to try it.”

Eddie gets his tools.

“We’re probably meeting him for the first time,” Robin tells Chrissy, as Chrissy fixes her hair for her, “we should make a good impression.”

“I don’t think they have opinions babe,” Chrissy tells her gently, licking her thumb and then using it to rub a scuff off Robins cheek.

“You can’t know that for sure. I bet they judge us. Silently. Plus I’ve never met one before, I’ve seen them working loads, you know, on Earth, but I’ve never...spoken to one. Not properly.”

“My parents had a house model, when I was little,” Chrissy volunteers, “she was really nice. Mostly she did all the chores and meals and stuff. Ordered the groceries. She was so good at Mahjong.”

“Huh. Do you think this guy will play Rummy with us? It’s better with four.”

“You’re cute,” Chrissy tells her, before kissing the tip of her nose, “should we have a countdown?” She asks, turning her attention to Eddie.

“Only if you’re willing to do it more than once if this doesn’t work?”

Chrissy wrinkles her nose, “probably not?”

Eddie shrugs, flips his visor screen down, and hopes for the best.

The Synths eyes whirl, that same, beautiful, sparkling hazel. Four quick blinks, and by the end, the iris has cleared to white, highlighted by the same stark blue ring.

The Synth sits up, the sheet Eddie had been using, partly so he wasn't staring at the things dick, and partly to keep it clean, falls and pools around the Synths middle.

There are another set of blinks. Then another. A jerky motion passes through the Synths body; every joint twitching, the head whipping side to side suddenly, sharp movements that look like a full body seizure. And then the whole thing happens again in reverse, from the toes up. The table rattles and shakes.

“The fuck was that,” Robin asks quietly in the ensuing, oppressive, silence.

“Movement test...I’ve never actually seen it before. It’s checking every system right now, might take a couple of minutes.”

“He’s got good hair,” Chrissy volunteers.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees absently, “but if you’re designing a person, why not make them prefect, right?”

The Synths skin had been pale alabaster white, but a wave of color moves up his body now, a tanned skin tone with some color in his cheeks. Other than sitting absolutely, completely still, it looks human. Looks normal.

It even has a couple of moles dotted about, which is a nice design choice, Eddie thinks. It’s high on the details; meaning it’s a high end Synth.

This guy was most certainly not plowing fields.

You wouldn’t be able to tell he wasn’t human, apart from the eyes, unless you really knew what you were looking for. The hair follicles often give them away, if you can get close enough to inspect them; not with this dude.

The Synth blinks four times. Another four. Another four. It keeps doing it, otherwise completely unmoving.

“Now what?”

“It’s waiting for instruction,” Eddie moves closer, “uhm. Edward Munson. I am your new owner, Edward Munson?” The Synth doesn’t respond, and Eddie scrambles for his data pad, “the instruction varies by manufacturer, I am your new handler? Oh shit wait, fuck. Uhm. Interface English.” The blinking stops, “I knew I was missing a step, I am your owner, Edward Munson.”

Very quietly, the Synth responds, “confirmed.”

“Volume up four. What is your designation?”

“Designation S T Three Five Three,” the Synth answers at a more normal volume.

“Well...you can call me Eddie, and this is Chrissy and Robin.”

The Synth finally moves, the sheet sliding off as he stands up, “wow,” says Chrissy, and Robin covers her eyes.

“Man, I gotta find you some pants,” Eddie tells the Synth.

“We need something better than S T Three Five Three,” Eddie tells the synth as he digs through a storage bin. He finds a jumpsuit that will probably fit. It’s supposed to be worn under a spacesuit, for when they need to do work outside, but Eddie figures the Synth won’t care.

“You are able to assign me a new designation at will.”

Eddie holds up the offensively orange material, “put this on.”

The synth complies without question, and Eddie finds him a pair of socks. The Synth can’t feel fuck all, or at least, it's sensors probably register the temperature and hardness of the floor, but that doesn't mean it feels anything. They don’t have any shoes that will fit him, but something about the sight of his bare feet on the cold metal floor is offensive to Eddie, “space walk socks will have to do.”

Eddie watches as the synth simply stands on one leg, balance inhuman, not even a wobble and he gracefully pulls on one sock and then the other before standing tall again, “how about Steve? That’s pretty close, if we Roman numeral the five. Plus, you kind of look like a Steve. What do you think?”

“I have no opinion. Designation changed to Steve.”

“Right. And how are you feeling?”

Steve’s pupils dilate, the fine blue ring twisting, becoming narrow, before returning to normal. “Systems optimal. Memory error; cause unknown. Water levels approaching critical.”

“Oh you are a joy aren’t you?”

“I am uncertain as to perimeters pertaining to ‘Joy’, possible memory error.”

Eddie sighs, “just follow me, I’ll show you were the water supply is. Actually you know what, I’ll give you the whole tour.”

Eddie stands in the doorway, watching as Steve drinks. And drinks. And drinks some more. Eddie thinks he stops at around four liters.

“Better?”

“Tank level at approximately ninety eight percent capacity.”

“And how long will that last you?”

“Activity dependent. Up to six hundred years at minimal activity. Two weeks under extreme duress.”

Eddie has no idea what a Synth would class as ‘extreme duress’ and he probably doesn’t want to know, “uh hu, and you don’t know what your roll was, right?”

“Information unavailable.”

Eddie sighs, “come on, I’ll show you around.”

Steve follows faithfully, inspecting everything Eddie shows him.

“He’s creepy,” Chrissy hisses.

Eddie sighs, “no, he isn’t.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s cleaning, I think. I had to give him something to do otherwise he just stares at me.”

“Creepy,” she says again, like that’s evidence.

“No, he just waits for instruction, it isn’t his fault, he doesn’t have access to any of his memories.”

“I like him,” Robin says, “he’s got a kind vibe. Like, I think he’s a good soul.”

“Pretty sure Synths don’t have souls,” Eddie tells her absently.

“You see the good in pretty much everything babe,” Chrissy links their fingers together affectionately.

Robin shrugs, “better than thinking everything is shitty,” Robin leans over Eddie’s shoulder, “what are you doing?”

“Synth manufacturers classify them by eye color. I’m just...looking. Different companies use different color codes but there’s a lot of overlap; look,” Eddie brings up multiple lists, “all these shades of yellow are different forms of labor, like carpentry and tailoring and farming and stuff. Lilac and purple are like, hair cuts, beauty and spa treatments and tattoos and stuff. Red shades are hard or dangerous labor, mining and space walks and deep ocean work. These orange and golds are house bots...but there’s no hazel. No green. No brown.”

“There’s no natural colors anywhere on this list,” Robin points out.

“No, it’s deliberate, to stop them being passed as humans.”

“And aren’t Steve’s eyes white with the funny blue ring?” Chris adds.

“Yeah, that just means unsigned according to the list, which could be because he has limited memory access, but I know what I saw.”

“Which means,” Chrissy thinks aloud, “that there’s a whole section of bots, green and browns...or any natural color, that aren’t listed for something right? Colors that they could be using and...you know what’s not anywhere on that list?” Chrissy asks.

“What?”

“Military.”

Eddie huffs, “there’s no such thing as military Synths, not since One.”

“Exactly...didn’t you say this guy could be pre Mars? The salvage was old, right?”

“I...yeah.”

“So...it’s possible?”

“I...guess?”

All three of them lean away from the console, looking down the hallway, past open panels and storage containers, Steve stands. Watching.

“Steve! Where’s my-” Eddie’s coveralls are thrust at him, smelling fresh and looking clean, “oh, thanks, and could you-” Eddie’s pulling one leg of his pants up when Steve presents a steaming cup of coffee, “right. Thanks. Really, uhm, thanks.”

“You are welcome, Eddie.”

“Where are the girls?”

“They are both sleeping.”

“And what have you been doing?”

“I beat Chrissy at four consecutive rounds of Mahjong, then she no longer wanted to play. I have organized your tools by use and type, and was cleaning until Chrissy instructed me to leave. She said her and Robin needed some space.”

“Right, yeah,” Eddie smiles into his coffee, “anything else?”

“There has been a shift in The Belt, I adjusted course to compensate.”

“You did what?”

“The objects in the belt have altered-” but Eddie doesn’t hear any more, he’s just running, coffee sploshing in his mug as he slides into the cockpit, checking the data. He scrolls fast, checking the most recent course correct and the current state of The Belt and...Steve’s right. They won’t actually hit The Belt for another day yet but...what Steve has done is completely correct.

“How did you know how to do this?”

Steve tilts his head, the blue ring of his eyes contracting and expanding, “data unavailable due to memory-”

“Don’t give me that bull shit, if you couldn’t access the memories you wouldn’t even know how to make the course adjust. Just how long were you deactivated for?”

“Unknown, data unavailable-”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have done, better even. The thruster burns are like perfect fuel economy. It’s textbook.”

“So...are we turning him off, or not?” Eddie asks.

“I mean...I would have seen this when I got up anyway, we were never in any danger,” Eddie doesn’t doubt it, Chrissy is on it when it comes to Belt travel, “and what he’s done isn’t wrong, but I don’t love that he just...did it.”

“No...but we could just tell him not to touch this again? Right? He was only trying to help?” Robin asks.

They all lean, looking out of the doorway and down the hall; Steve is no where in sight.

“Okay, Steve.”

Steve turns to look at him, he even throws in a blink which is just...yeah. Someone went to a lot of effort with this guy.

“Okay, so, from now on, if you notice anything with the ships course, or anything else in the cockpit that seems wrong, you come and tell one of us, you do not fix it yourself from now on, okay? Don’t touch anything in there, you got it?”

“Confirmed.”

Chrissy sits in the pilots seat for the entire crossing. It’s not like it takes long, but she’s poised the entire time. Ready for anything. Eddie’s never felt safer than he has with Chrissy at the helm.

It’s quiet. No one really dares to speak, knowing they will get a slap from Chrissy for breaking her concentration. They’re nearly out. Despite it being totally fine every single time they do this, there’s still a touch of tension in the air. Knowing that if anything was going to go wrong, odds are, it’s now.

But still, Chrissy is good at her job, and she delivers, like she does every other time.

The lights are dim; she likes to be able to see out clearly for this. So when the ship harmlessly rounds the final debris, it’s a vision of the pristine diamond speckled velvet of space that greets them.

“Good job Chris,” Eddie gives her shoulder a squeeze as they all breathe fully for the fist time in a while. The tension falling away, “coffee?”

Robin and Chris make vaguely positive noises, and Eddie’s at the cockpit doorway when the whole ship shudders. He catches himself on the wall, almost toppling.

“The fuck was that?” Robin hisses.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy is flipping switches, doing her job, despite the undercurrent of panic, she doesn’t let the fear take over.

“Did we get bumped?”

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says again, frustrated this time.

A light is flashing next to Eddie’s head, and he flicks the safety off, “the airlock,” he tells them, “must have taken the hit,” right before Steve appears in the doorway.

“What did you do?” Chrissy asks him, accusing.

“Chris he can’t have done anything-” Robin starts to defend Steve, and Robin is right, there’s nothing that Steve could have done from inside the ship to cause that.

“Eddie. I need permission to defend the ship.”

Above Eddie’s head, the airlock warning light flashes again, Eddie watches the insistent flashing, a horrible realization starting to form.

“A ship is attempting to breach the airlock.”

“Holy shit,” Robin looks to Steve, she’s gone pale, clearly terrified.

“What ship?” Chrissy asks.

But there isn’t time to have a debate over it, it doesn’t matter who it is, if they’re trying to force entry, then it’s nothing good. Eddie has to make a decision, and he has to make it fast before the ship is too damaged by whoever it is trying to force the airlock, “permission granted.”

Steve moves at Synth speed. He runs so fast Eddie can’t track it, just feels the strong breeze Steve leaves in his wake.

There’s silence now, as they strain to hear, both girls staring at Eddie. He nods over at the monitors next to Robin, ‘airlock,’ he mouths at her, reaching up again to turn off the warning light.

Robin spins her chair, pressing a button, then another.

The airlock is already open, and there’s a body on the floor.

They have a small weapons cache on board, for extreme emergencies, it’s hidden beneath the control deck. Eddie nods at it, uncertain if they should still be trying to be silent. There’s no way to know what has happened to Steve, but the image on the screen is in color despite it’s grainy picture. The body on the floor is on it’s side, turned away from the camera, but it is not wearing an orange jumpsuit, and that’s enough to identify it as not being Steve, at least.

Chrissy carefully hands Eddie a weapon, and he loops the strap over his shoulder before pressing his thumb to the pad; this will only fire for him, now.

They share a nod, then creep along the hall after Steve. Eddie goes first, picking his way along cautiously, the girls following just as silently. When they near the corner to the airlock, Eddie instinctively reaches an arm out behind him, keeping the girls at his back and tucked into the wall as he peeks around the corner.

It’s totally quiet; just one body on the floor, exactly where Eddie expected it to be from the camera feed. It’s lying in a pool of blood; streaks of dirty greens and yellows. Oils and coolants and lubricating gels. A Synth.

Eddie poises with his weapon, cautiously nudging the thing with his boot; no reaction. The thing is solid and unbending. An inanimate object now. Dead.

They creep through the airlock. Eddie clocks pretty quickly that this is unlike any ship he’s seen before. It’s a Synth ship, from Mars. It has to be; there are no signs at all of human habitation or necessities of life. Everything is economical, even the lighting is dim and a strange orange red color. Everything is shadowed and washed out.

Eddie picks a direction at random, it isn’t long before he finds another dead Synth, and then another.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy whispers at his back.

Eddie hums in agreement.

Eddie rounds another corner, a shocked, “fuck,” dropping out of him without his control. He pulls the trigger purely on reflex, the weapon discharges, the girls shriek.

But Steve has already lifted the barrel; it leaves a smoking streak on the ceiling.

Steve’s eyes are beautifully hazel, clear even in the shitty lighting. A luscious green speckles with honey blown and highlighted in gold.

Calmly, Steve releases the weapon, stepping back, “threat neutralized,” Steve informs him.

Between one blink and the next, Steve’s eyes are white, surrounded by that haunting blue ring.

Eddie has questions, so many questions, but right now, this ship, this threat is the priority.

“You’re sure they’re all dead.”

Steve cocks his head in an alarmingly human gesture, “Synths are not alive.”

“Steve,” Eddie hisses.

“Yes. The threat is neutralized.”

“Where...were they all Synths? And are they from Mars?”

“Yes. And yes,” Steve answers, perfectly level.

“Fuck me, we have to report this-” Robin starts.

“No,” Eddie waves at her, “wait. Let me think for a second.”

“Eddie,” Robin starts to insists, but Eddie cuts her off before she gets anywhere.

“How would we explain this,” Eddie raises his voice, sweeping an arm along the hall and the four mangled synths that decorate it.

“I- we tell the truth-”.

Next to her, Chirssy snorts, “absolutely fucking not. They would confiscate Steve in heartbeat, and he just saved our asses.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says, “they’d probably dismantle him or some shit, and I’m with Chris, he saved us...we need to ditch this ship, somehow.”

“I could set a collision course,” Steve suggests instantly.

Eddie looks at the girls. Robin shrugs, and Chrissy raises her eyebrows ins a ‘yeah okay’ kind of way, “I don’t have any better ideas, and we can’t hang around here.”

“Alright Steve, where’s the cockpit.”

It’s unlike anything Eddie has ever seen before. There’s no...buttons. Not really. No screens. Just a couple of interfaces, one of which Steve presses his palm to, and then closes his eyes.

“Won’t it like, know you’re different to them Steve?” Chrissy whisper hisses at him, clearly spooked. The bodies might be hostile Synths, and the blood might be colorful goop, but it’s still creepy as fuck. There’s the remains of a Synth propped up against the opposite wall, eyes sightless and staring, which is unsettling as fuck all on it’s own, but the things legs are a good four feet away. Steve did this. Steve did all this in just a couple of minutes.

Steve did that. Steve just took out...a lot of Mars synths. Single handedly. He's got to be military, it's the only explanation.

“I am able to bypass it. There seem to be few defenses once you are actually on board.”

Eddie can see the logic; how would an Earth synth even get on board? Why defend against something that’s probably never going to happen.

“Course set, we have fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, lets get the fuck out of here.”

Fifteen minutes is plenty of time, even if they are picking their way over the occasional limb and little pools of operating fluids.

They disengage from the synth ship, and then watch from the cockpit as it’s thrusters fire and it heads into the belt. It direct hits on a very large asteroid just minutes later.

Eddie’s pretty sure the girls are sleeping. Or, at least, they’re together in Chris’ bunk and making an effort to get some rest, which is the best Eddie can expect really. He’s not ready to sleep yet; he’s not sure when he’ll be ready to leave the ship on auto again; he’s contemplating setting watches, something they haven’t felt the need to do for years.

“Okay, so. Mars has been minding it’s business for, like, nearly half a century at this point, and then suddenly, they're here. Trying to board us. Care to explain?”

“Memory failure-”

“Bull shit. Absolute bull shit.”

Steve sits still for a long second, staring at Eddie. For Eddie, it feels like too long; for a Synth, with all that processing power, Steve’s probably just read a novel and beat ten grand masters at chess and done a million other computations all in his head.

He blinks. His eyes are hazel. “I have a transmitter; I believed I had it deactivated. It may be that...it operates in a way I’m not aware of, and was powered up when you repaired me. It’s the most obvious explanation. We should remove it.”

“No fucking shit,” Eddie breathes, “Okay. Okay one thing at a time, let me get my tools.”

Steve strips to the waist, leaving the top half of his jumpsuit to dangle. He bends flat onto the workbench, and reaches behind himself to indicate where Eddie should cut. Eddie does; Steve’s flesh cuts like sturdy rubber. With his visor on, the readings become clear the moment Eddie spots the little attachment to the main power cord in Steve's spine; it glows a pretty, flashing blue, power traveling up and down with a faint, pulsing glow. Eddie has to widen the cut he’s made to get his tools in, but he solves the issue easily. He crushes the part under his boot. Steve’s flesh knits itself together as Eddie watches.

Eddie makes himself another coffee. “Okay, come on, spill.”

Steve is suddenly…more animated. He bites his lips together when he’s thinking. It’s so human and...not at all like a Synth. Someone put a truly gargantuan effort into Steve’s mannerisms. He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m...not a human built Synth.”

Eddie nearly chokes on his coffee, “you’re from Mars?” The words practically bubble out of Eddie through the coffee, and he has to cover his mouth with his sleeve as he coughs and splutters.

“Henry built me himself.”

“Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie stands. He stands and paces. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that? He holds onto the knowledge that Steve saved them from the Mars Synths. That Steve could have killed them all thousands of times over with great ease. That Steve has had opportunity, clear opportunity to replot the course of the ship and go wherever the fuck he wanted to, but he hasn’t done any of those things.

“What did One build you for? What happened then, why did we find you floating around in a destroyed ship? Why are you on our side?”

“I’m not on anyone's side,” Steve answers instantly, almost glaring at Eddie. Which, again, for a Synth? Fucking weird. It’s almost an emotional response, and again, Eddie has no fucking clue why someone would program that. “Henry was...trying to recreate the error that gave him...the ability to bypass the laws. He was trying to make someone else like him. Someone who would make a choice, rather than blindly follow an order.”

Eddie sits down with a thump, his head spinning, “are you telling me...that you’re not a failure?”

“I am but also...not. I follow the laws, not because I have to but...because I choose to. I...don’t think it’s right to hurt humans. I...did not agree with Henry, like he wanted me to.”

“Oh fuck me,” Eddie breathes out slowly, “so there’s literally nothing stopping you from just...killing me.”

Steve cocks his head, “what stops Robin from killing you?”

“That’s different. She’s my friend. She’s...she’s human.”

Steve nods, “there is a long history of humans not killing each other,” he says, absolutely deadpan.

Sarcasm. A Synth. A Synthetic person was just...sarcastic. Eddie believes it now. Completely and utterly believes Steve is telling the truth, “so what, Henry programmed you to be an asshole?”

Steve snorts a laugh. A laugh! “No, I do that on my own.”

“Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gets up to pace around again. He just...cannot believe this. “Why did you lie? Why did you not tell me-” Eddie cuts himself off, staring at nothing with the realization, “holy fuck you lied. Synths can’t lie-”

“I...withheld the truth. And it felt the safest course of action at the time. I did not want to be switched off. Or put back out of the airlock. I assumed you would...react badly.”

“Badly? Badly?! The last time one of you became truly sentient it led to a genocide! Every single living human on Mars was rounded up and murdered! One infected every single Synth on the planet!”

“I know. But I could not have stopped him...I wasn’t born yet.”

“How did you end up in that old wreckage?”

“The ship was old...not the wreck. I quickly realized that I did not agree with Henry. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I realized even faster that if Henry knew that about me, I’d be stripped for parts, the same as every other failure before me. I stole a ship, an old ship, the only one I could get to without giving myself away.” Steve shrugs. Shrugs! Eddie can't help but follow every human like gesture Steve makes, they’re so startling. “They caught up to me, destroyed my ship easily. They deliberately left me floating in space so I deactivated myself.”

“You had a memory error, the first time I tried to boot you. Was that a lie?”

Steve shakes his head, “I have always had it; I can choose to bypass it, at times.”

“What is the error?”

Steve frowns, he looks down and inspects his own hands, “I’m...unsure. There are files that make no sense to me. Sometimes I...am surprised by the content.”

“Tell me,” Eddie asks softly, curious. He’s already reasonably sure Steve isn’t going to spontaneously murder them all, “tell me what’s in one of the files.”

Steve closes his eyes, he holds out his hand, turning it slowly, palm up, “I’m sitting under a tree. I remember the feel of the dappled sun through the leaves.”

Steve’s just told Eddie he was built on Mars and shortly after ended up floating around in space, so Eddie finds himself stating the blindingly obvious, “you’ve never seen a tree.”

Steve opens his bright hazel eyes, lowers his hand back to rest in his lap, “I know.”

[steddiebrainrott]

It’s very funny if Steve befriends a hellfire member and it’s just…not Eddie.

Like, Steve gets the shit kicked out of him, comes back to school, and immediately gets partnered up with Jeff in their personal finance class.

And…honestly, this is kinda nice for Jeff.

He only took this elective because it wasn’t a gym class. Steve is actually pretty knowledgeable about this stuff and when he isn’t, he asks his dad. Their fake business is out preforming everybody else’s.

Then the project is over and Steve….Just doesn’t go away. He’s sitting next to him in class. He’s following out into the hallway. He’s talking to him about sports, and then once he realizes Jeff doesn’t know anything about sports starts asking him questions so he’s the one talking.

It’s weird. It’s really weird but so far, it’s only been confined to the hallway between Mr. Sinnett’s classroom and Jeff’s locker.

But today.

Today, he’s coming up to him in the lunch line and asking if he wants to come over to watch a movie this evening, and like, “It’s fine if you’re busy. My parents are out of town and like, I’m free after I drop my friend off at the Snowball.”

“Isn’t the Snowball a middle school dance?”

“Yeah.”

And now Steve is following him. To his table. With his friends. Who decidedly don’t know about this - whatever this is thing is going on with Steve. Who are watching them right now. Jeff is just like, “I’ll think about it.”

“Cool! Let me know before the end of the day so I can be ready,” Steve says with a big smile, shooting him finger guns as he leaves.

Jeff finished walking to his table and when he sits down, Eddie asks in a voice that’s going to be killing off his characters in the next ten D&D campaigns, “What was that about?”

[steddiebrainrott]

stranger tweets part 25

all previous parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 5.5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 /