#(ignoring the older party members bc i forgot to write them in so shh)

[a-little-unsteddie]

hello, hello, are you lonely?

WARNING: this is gonna hurt. like, a fuck ton. like i cried a lot while writing it.

loosely based off of the song ‘Mr. Forgettable’ by David Kushner. if you want a hint before reading, listen to that song.

(also tagged: Major Character Death)

—

As all things in old age are, it was slow at first.

Steve would forget where he placed his keys the day before, or he would forget where he put the remote, or something similar. Things that on their own, didn’t really mean anything but a busy, distracted mind. That coupled with forgetting conversations that happened earlier in the day and forgetting important dates that he never would have normally forced the rest of the party to accept that Steve was declining mentally with his age.

At first, it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. Steve, outside of those moments of confusion, was still himself. He would play with the grandkids, he would cook, bake, do all of the things he loved doing.

Then, Steve started to forget people. Places. Time.

Eddie and Robin did their best to take care of him, make sure he was comfortable, but it was clear to everyone that Steve was declining. In the end, they had to admit him to the hospital, knowing that neither Eddie nor Robin were getting any younger. The rest of the party had argued, saying that one of them should take care of Steve, but Eddie and Robin knew they had their own lives—and when Steve was lucid, he agreed that he should be in the hospital.

That was three months ago now.

Since then, there had been plenty of rough patches. Days where Eddie and Robin would go in, and Steve would only recognize Robin, or the other way around. Days where Steve would ask for his mother, even though he had been cut off in his early twenties, and had been dead for a decade at least.

They (Eddie, really) had figured out that music helped Steve remember, but there were days where not even Eddie playing guitar would bring any recognition across his face.

It was like any other day, both Robin and Eddie were visiting, the kids—albeit, the kids had their own kids by this point, as mentioned—took turns visiting, and today Dustin was meant to be visiting later. It was an off day, meaning Steve barely recognized Eddie, let alone Robin. Eddie brought his guitar, as he did everyday. He had yet to get it out, testing the waters to see how Steve was doing.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said, sitting next to him. The television in the room was playing softly in the background, some movie Eddie vaguely recognized. Steve’s gaze flickered to him, recognition flashing for a moment before he smiled warmly at Eddie.

“Hey, Ed,” Steve responded, smiling vacantly as he turned his gaze to Robin. “Who ya got with ya?” He asked, which caused the pit in Eddie’s stomach to sink deeper. Robin felt sick to her stomach at the thought of Steve not remembering her, but she knew he had no control over what was forgotten. She knew he was grasping at sand, holding tightly onto what he did have even as more slipped away.

“Hey, dingus,” she whispered, trying not to cry. It never got easier to be around Steve like this, but she would never abandon him to go through this alone. She knew his greatest fear was dying alone, forgotten in a hospital room, left to rot. She would die before she let that fear come true.

“This is Robin, you know her,” Eddie reminded gently, watching Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he tried to place a face to the name, but came up blank.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said to her, feeling it was important to let her know he was. He knew she was important, as he felt happy upon seeing her, but beyond that, there was nothing. He reached out to both of them, wanting to hold their hands. Eddie choked back a cry, putting his hand into Steve’s, who instantly laced their fingers together. Robin gripped Steve’s other hand tightly, smiling even as tears fell down her face. Steve smiled and went back to watching whatever was on the television, rubbing his thumb along their hands.

Robin looked at Eddie, “Where’s Dustin?” She asked softly, not to disturb Steve. The others had managed to visit in the last week or so, but Dustin was finally just able to get a flight in that day, so he would be the last one in this batch of visitors.

Eddie looked away from Steve’s face to look at Robin. “His flight was delayed, he should be arriving around 5.” Robin looked at the time, 2:12. She nodded, settling into the hospital chair next to Steve’s bed, content to watch whatever movie Steve was. Her eyes widened. It was Back to the Future. Her face crumpled, but she quickly schooled her expression into something less devastated. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“This is a good movie,” she said to Steve, who nodded.

“Me and my best friend were really high when I watched it the first time,” Steve said, which was just another stab in Robin’s heart. That was her that Steve was talking about. She let out an unsteady breath, closing her eyes tightly. “It’s still my favorite.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” Robin said in return, smiling softly at her best friend. Steve looked at her and grinned before turning his attention back to the TV.

An hour or so later, Eddie brought out his guitar. Steve lit up at the sight of the acoustic guitar, smiling excitedly.

“I love when you play, Eds,” Steve said excitedly, to which Eddie grinned.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said, playing a few chords. As he played, Steve seemed to become more aware. After a few minutes of playing, Steve looked around with a frown.

“Where are the gremlins?” He asked, looking around the hospital room.

Eddie and Robin paused what they were doing to look at Steve in surprise. It had been several weeks since he asked after the kids using that term. It was something that he had lost early on in his decline. Eddie and Robin looked at each other apprehensively, eyes wide.

“Oh—Dustin, he’s flying, so he’ll be in soon. Lucas is visiting family up state, Max and El are with him. Mike and Will are looking at houses this week,” Eddie informed him, smiling warmly as his husband seemed to come to life.

“Good! I miss them,” Steve said, smiling. “It’ll be nice to have everyone around again. It’s been too long.” He said, leaning back against the bed.

Eddie and Robin made eye contact, smiling grimly at each other. They would take what they could get from Steve, but they knew this moment of clarity would soon pass. They had long since stopped hoping he would retain the clarity, having those hopes squashed early on in the process. The doctors had informed them that as he worsened, these moments of clarity would become less and less, and then would get one big moment of clarity before passing. Every time that Steve would remember, Eddie and Robin held their breath.

“Eds, can you play our song?” He asked, looking at his husband with such fondness, and who was Eddie to deny his husband anything?

“Of course, Stevie,” he said, beginning to strum the correct chords to the song. Steve hummed with it, looking at Robin.

“This was the song we danced at during our wedding,” he said, sighing deeply. “The best damn day of my life,” he said softly, smiling at Eddie.

Eddie smiled softly in return, “Best day of my life, too, baby,” he agreed with a nod. Steve laughed brightly, motioning Eddie over, who went closer easily. Steve pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss, causing Robin to pretend to gag even as joy filled her entire being. Moments like these it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, that Steve wasn’t sitting on his deathbed, waiting for the inevitable. Like they weren’t waiting for the inevitable.

“Oh, hush, Robbie,” Steve scoffed, which only caused Robin to laugh at him. Steve settled back against the bed, content to listen to the music that Eddie was playing. Robin felt like she was flying, though she knew this clarity wouldn’t last, she would savor it as long as it lasted.

The following hour was filled with Steve, Robin and Eddie talking and laughing about shared memories, reliving their youth through their memories. It was so rare that Eddie was able to see his husband—not literally, he saw him every day, he more meant that he so rarely saw the husband he married, so often he was lost in the fog inside his mind. Eddie was thankful for every moment they shared, knowing they were going to come to an end eventually.

Steve seemed to get more tired, settling down for a nap as Eddie played. He was still holding Robin’s hand and his other hand resting on Eddie’s knee, which was the only part of him he could reach without distracting Eddie’s playing.

“Hey Eds?” He asked, fluttering his eyes open. Eddie hummed, looking at Steve fondly. “Could you play our song again?” He asked, voice weak and quiet. Eddie’s guts twisted, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line as he started strumming the familiar chords.

“Yeah, Stevie. Always for you.” He said softly, trying to control his breathing as he played.

“Mm,” Steve hummed in return, his eyelids fluttering shut. “Love you, Eddie dear,” he breathed, before stilling.

“Love you, too, Stevie darling.”

—

disclaimer: probably unrealistic alzheimers/dementia, sorry! i based some of it off of my grandpa, but he didnt have those, he had a different thing due to agent orange in the war?? i can’t remember—parkinsons?? maybe? either way, so loosely based off of that and what i read about alzheimers/dementia.