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jewishrat420 · 1 year

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kas!eddie as 'iron man' by black sabbath (1.8k)

tags: blood, gore, angst, graphic depictions of death, mind control, false memories, descriptions of humanity as inferior, mass killing (this sounds bad but it's just humanity from vecna's/kas!eddie's perspective so like... basically the show)

song lyrics indicated by bold, flashbacks/“memories” indicated by italics

“Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind?”

Eddie doesn’t remember much before the Upside Down. Before reds and blues in striking fluorescence, sharp teeth that nick him if he isn’t careful. Dark ichor seeps from the wound, and a small part of him thinks that something else used to take its place; something brighter, richer. Something alive.

This desolate land is all he knows. Dirt and bones crunch under his bare feet when he chooses to walk, cold wind whips against his wings when he doesn’t. He doesn’t think about what is or isn’t, simply obeys the words of his master, nodding his head and baring his teeth when called upon.

Come. Stay.

Kill.

There’s something deep within him that comes alive with that last command. Something that rattles his aching bones, tugs at his gut, pulls at his intestines and threatens to unravel them. Something that screams at him; the words go unnoticed, overshadowed by the indistinct voices in his brain. The hive mind is an ocean, crashing against the shore of his body, bringing him under and under and under.

The concept of time is unknown to him. He doesn’t know when or how he got here, if he was ever anywhere else. If there is anywhere else to be. The tick tick ticking of a clock only serves to alert him to Vecna’s newest victim; to his next meal.

He smells her before he sees her. A small girl, brunette, with tears in her eyes and blood in her mouth. Eddie’s throat aches, burns. She’s writhing in Vecna’s grip, shaking her head like she could will her reality away. Make it nothing more than a nightmare.

Eddie wants to laugh.

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head?”

He’s had his own share of nightmares; though his, unlike the earthly being below him, he was able to get out of. They come back in flashes, blinding him with the memory until he’s forced to watch, eyes rolled back, grimy feet barely touching the ground.

A human--a boy--stands above him. His hair is shorter than Eddie’s, skin tanner. Eyes prettier. They’re glazed with tears, and his lips are pulled into a frown.

Eddie wants to speak, but his mouth is filled with something. His throat is coated with it, and every breath he takes makes his chest rattle with a disgusting gurgling sound.

The boy narrows his eyes, brow furrowing for a moment.

“Looks like you need some help, huh?”

Eddie tries to nod, but his neck won’t move. His lungs feel raw, overused. His whole body aches like he’s on fire, embers burning up every cell that forms him. He tries to do something, anything, but can’t.

The boy suddenly erupts into laughter, throwing his head back. His neck has a red ring around it; it looks angry. He stands, placing his hands on his hips, and spits into the open cavity of Eddie’s chest.

“That’s what you get for being so fucking stupid, Munson. We told you not to be a hero, and look where that got you, huh?”

The boy starts walking away, but stops short, turning around as though he’d remembered something.

“Freaks like you are meant to be in Hell anyway.”

Whenever that memory is forced upon him, Eddie is left barren. Sunken. His chest aches with the foreign urge to cry, and he feels something familiar tug at his heart. Something that tells him that boy is, was, something like family to him. Like the hive mind, only…different. Chosen, maybe. Purposeful.

It’s not the only thing Vecna likes to remind him of. There’s another scene, maybe as painful as the first, that haunts him.

A group of humans stand in front of his supine body. Every breath aches; he doesn’t take as many. His throat is thick with something sticky and harsh, and he wants to spit it out. Would, if he had the energy.

He can barely hear through the ringing in his ears, but he tries anyway. Thinks he makes out, “What’s the point of taking him with us? He’s dead weight,” and a lighter, more feminine voice saying, “Not like he was any better alive.”

"We'll just pass him there. Why should we even care?"

Eddie tries to speak, tries to beg for them to stay, to help him, but all that comes out is a weak moan. Pitiful.

They all laugh at his misery and walk away.

Now, in the dark and dirty underworld, Eddie feels at home. Alone, surrounded by monsters like himself. When he thinks of the memories, and he thinks of where he is now, he feels grateful. He feels like he’s somewhere he belongs.

Those humans left him to his fate. Left him to die a coward’s death; alone and begging.

“Nobody wants him. He just stares at the world.”

It’s only because of Vecna that he is reanimated. That he can run at lightning speeds to capture yet another precious little life form and snap its neck before it can cry.

The girl, small and pretty, tries to speak. Eddie’s talons wrap around her throat in an instant, drawing blood where they dig in. Her eyes are brown, and a memory threatens to break through those walls.

Eddie pops her head like a balloon and moves on.

“Planning his vengeance, that he will soon unfurl.”

Humans, Vecna likes to remind him, are scum. Breathing, feeling creatures who infect their vitality on everything they touch. Everything has a name, everything has value.

It’s disgusting.

It’s easy for Eddie to agree to Vecna’s plan. With the hive mind whispering in his ear, pulling him taut like a puppet on strings, and his only memories of humans being traitorous and torturous, he wants nothing more than to carry it out.

To end the life that gave him nothing but agony is a beautiful revenge.

This Earth, this world, did nothing but hurt him. These people that inhabit it are viruses, bacterium, and they deserve to be treated as such. Like any pest, they must be exterminated. Eradicated.

Eddie is eager to rid this planet of the disease that is humanity.

He sits perched atop a tree and waits. The ground below him sizzles and sparks, cracking open with a moan that comes from deep within. He feels it vibrate in his bones, his mind going fuzzy. Soon, a hole is torn from the dirt that separates the Upside Down from the rest of the Earth.

He smiles to himself.

Showtime.

“Now the time is here, for Iron Man to spread his fear.”

Eddie follows Vecna up to a certain point. The world looks different on this side, bright colors dancing in his vision, each one like an ice pick to his brain. It’s loud and full of humans and other creatures. Of life.

Not for long.

Once he is released from his hold, Eddie takes to the sky. Spreads his wings and soars, eyeing the ant-like creatures and zeroing in on his prey. He takes out a small child rather quickly; hears the screams of a woman come shortly after. He’s gone before she sees who (or what) did it.

Eddie is disoriented to space and time; there is much more to be aware of in this world. The sun burns his skin and his disconnection from the hive mind has him forgetting his mission occasionally. But as soon as he sees another human, he is reminded. His job is to kill, to make better. To cleanse.

He doesn’t know how long he’s on this side of the planet. He’s distantly aware of a high-pitched screeching sound in deafening repetition, and he sees flurries of reds and blues--unlike, however, those of Upside Down. These are bright and brash and no doubt the result of the human virus.

At some point, Vecna alerts him to the news he was expecting; they won. Of course they did. No mortal world can compete with death; it is their ultimate downfall.

He is given the go-ahead to carry out his own personal mission, and he wastes no time.

“Vengeance from the grave, killing people he once saved.”

He saves them for last. Those creatures, those humans that left him to suffer, alone and cold. That left him to die.

It’s their turn, now.

He knows where to find them. Sensed them as soon as he entered their repulsive world, and he flies there in an instant.

Finds them exactly where he thought he would; huddled together in the main room of a cold house. It vaguely reminds him of the Upside Down, all barren and hollow. Eddie almost feels at home in it.

The humans are surrounded by a variety of makeshift weapons. A number of guns, glass bottles stuffed with tissues, and most notably--a baseball bat with nails hammered into it.

Eddie’s eyes catch on the thing, and his stomach twists uncomfortably, that sharp tug threatening to unravel him from the core. He looks away.

They’re all there. Every last one of them from his memory, and a couple he doesn’t recognize as well. Their eyes catch on him, and rather than fear, a sort of recognition flashes over them.

“Eddie?”

Eddie snarls. His own name coming from their mouths hurts like it did that night, raging wildfires crawling across his skin. He wants to tear them apart.

He watches as they all exchange looks. Eddie recognizes some of them; terror, shock. But there’s something in their eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. Something…soft. Something hesitant.

“Eddie, do you…do you remember us?”

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head?”

It’s the boy with the beautiful eyes that speaks. Eddie’s chest feels like it’s caving in, and he feels the inexplicable urge to run toward him, to hold him with human arms he doesn’t recognize. To never let go.

He remembers the last time he heard that voice, and he’s overwhelmed with anger.

Eddie throws his head back in a cackle, mimicking the laughter they once directed at him, and bares his teeth in a snarl. His talons elongate and his wings expand.

Whatever was in their eyes, sadness or trust or love, is gone in an instant. Replaced by the ever-familiar look of fear.

Eddie barely feels the gunfire ricochet off him. His skin takes it like metal, throwing the bullets back to whoever shot it. He hears a scream; feminine, like the voice that taunted him, and he smiles around a mouthful of flesh.

It’s minutes or hours, he has no way of knowing, before all that’s left is the boy he thinks he might have loved.

“Eddie,” he says, voice coated not in blood but in something else. Something devastating.

For the first time since being reborn, Eddie speaks. He says one word.

“Run.”

“Running as fast as they can. Iron Man lives again.”

The person he once called his friend, and might have called his lover, shoots past him, nearly tripping over the bodies of his family on his way.

Eddie spreads his wings, bares his teeth, and turns into the monster he always feared he was.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #kas eddie munson #kas eddie #vecna stranger things #vecna #stranger things s4 #eddie as kas #eddie munson thread #eddie munson as kas the bloody handed #eddie as vecna's puppet #kas the bloody handed #stranger things eddie #kas!eddie

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eddie-hellfire-munson · 2 years

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𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊

pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

synopsis: "Somehow Eddie returned" [it's a star wars reference].

warnings: alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Steve being miserable.

word count: 5651

If you'd like to be added to the tag list please check out [this post]

When the sky went dark and ash fell from the clouds above Steve Harrington knew things wouldn't be the same. When they'd entered the Upside Down and attempted to fight off the things that went bump in the night he knew somehow, call it a sixth sense, that things were going to shift. He knew the world was going to tilt on its axis though whether that would be for good or bad he couldn't say, that was until the darker half of Hawkins began to bleed into their current reality. It started small after the earthquake- such as the occasional red strike of lightning through the sky during a storm or that first initial instance of cold ash falling to blanket Hawkins in dusty gray. Other than that things seemed relatively normal, or as normal as they could be. As much as he himself tried to ignore it, fend off the feelings of guilt and fear, his world had tilted on its own axis as well. After the death of Eddie Munson he wasn't the same, nobody was for that matter. He and Robin continued to go to work with Keith at Family Video, the media shifted it's blame onto Jason Carver after it was revealed how he'd chased down an innocent man- which was really the only positive thing that had come of all this, and the kids all eventually went back to school now that things were deemed safe. Their close knit relationship due to the shared trauma both strengthened and began to fall apart at the seams.. mainly on the end of one Dustin Henderson. Steve couldn't blame him, hell if he lost his best friend he'd probably react much the same. Dustin had taken over the un-appointed leader role in Hellfire, Steve knew he wasn't trying to replace Eddie and that he was coping the only way he realistically knew how... but the issue was- well Dustin and Steve weren't on speaking terms. It had been weeks and while Steve tried to apologize, tried to help, Dustin didn't want to hear it. That night in the Upside Down had been brutal on them all, Dustin had to watch his best friend die- and Steve had to set his feelings aside and play mediator yet again. He dragged Dustin away from Eddie Munson's mangled corpse.

He could still recall so vividly the way he looked. Eyes wide and unblinking, lifeless and empty. Hair matted and stuck to his face, caked with grime and dirt. Blood soaked clothes, open wounds still oozing and angry- his Hellfire shirt a tattered mess. Dustin had pulled him up onto his lap, cradling him and sobbing- begging him to wake up and shaking him as if that would bring the other man back but Steve knew better. Steve had to pry him away. Steve had to hoist Dustin over his shoulder when the younger boy tried to scramble right back to Eddie's side. Steve had to carry him up through the portal in the trailer. Steve had to sit him down on the mattress in the real world and tell him Eddie was gone, that he wasn't coming back and watch as the sheer horror and realization sink in. Steve had to hold back his own emotions, his own feelings of guilt clawing at his chest while bile rose in the back of his throat because if he'd just stayed behind maybe things would be different. He had to watch over the course of four days as Dustin's sadness turned to rage, had to sit and watch silently as Dustin shut him out- his last words hitting the nail on the head and solidifying Steve's guilt.

"If you would've been there, Eddie would still be HERE- Steve. Fuck you."

That was the first time Steve had heard Dustin Henderson swear. Sure the kid dropped the occasional 'bullshit' or 'shit' on him and was always reprimanded for it but this time Steve had let it slide. He let Dustin swear and point fingers and place blame because deep down he knew the kid was right. If he had been there.. maybe things would be different. Everyone grieved in their own ways, and Steve threw himself into work. He picked up extra shifts so he'd have to spend less time in an empty house, his parents had decided to extend their ‘business trip’ in New York leaving Steve in an empty home for an undisclosed amount of time. They could be gone days, weeks, months, and while he didn't mind them being gone- he didn't want to be left in an empty house with only his own thoughts to keep him company. Steve Harrington went to work by day, and at night he found solace and comfort at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. He drank most nights, but even the sweet embrace of a good buzz couldn't always keep his thoughts at bay. Sometimes his mind would wander, wander to what could have been if he would've said screw it and stayed behind- or if the party would have never separated at all. Would Eddie slot so effortlessly into his life just as Robin had? He could have gotten the man a job at Family Video, could've spent more time with him- and Robin of course him and Robin. Sometimes when he drank these ideas came to fruition in his dreams, taunting him and fueling his survivors guilt when he woke up the next day. It bothered him how quickly everyone aside from the party seemed to move on, Eddie hadn't had that big of an impact on their lives so he couldn't blame them for losing interest when his name was cleared and he was pronounced missing but it still hurt. It hurt that nobody cared that he was gone, meanwhile Steve drank himself silly and vented his emotions to the man's jacket that maintained a permanent residence on the chair in the corner of his room. Everyone grieves differently, and for Steve that involved cradling a jacket and sobbing while apology after apology tumbled from his lips like a mantra- sometimes he'd fall asleep with that jacket still clutched to his chest.. sometimes he'd fall asleep knelt at the base of the chair it always sat on, cheek resting on the plush cushion like a pillow.

He'd woken up, unsurprisingly, on the floor. His knees were cramped and sore from kneeling on his carpet all night, cheek pressed to the now warm fabric of that denim number- emptied bottle of jack sat at his side. With a groan he sat back, rubbing the indent of Eddie's iron maiden patch against his cheek in an attempt to soothe the angry red skin as he glanced over at the clock. One in the afternoon, the glowing numbers of his analog clock mocked him- he'd slept through half the day. Like every day he went through the motions- brushing his teeth, taking a hot shower that lasted a good hour because he tended to stand in there for prolonged amounts of time just staring at the wall, get dressed, attempt to do his hair, make coffee: black with one scoop of sugar, pound a Tylenol or aspirin- whichever he saw on the counter first, head out the door to pick up Robin for their shift.

"You look like shit Steve."

No 'good afternoon', no 'hey how was your night'- just 'you look like shit Steve' as if he wasn't already acutely aware of how awful he looked. There was still a round indent in his cheek from having fallen asleep on top of Eddie's denim jacket, his hair hadn't wanted to behave and he'd given up trying to get it to coif like it usually did so it sat entirely deflated, and there were thick puffy bags under his eyes.. all this being on top of the throbbing headache he was doing his best to power through. So yeah, yeah he knew he looked like shit but when he turned his head to quip back he was met with concerned eyes and an arched brow. With a sort of defeated sigh and a hand running uselessly though his hair he just fixed her with a soft smile and a shrug that was meant to be reassuring combined with his pathetic little excuse of "Im fine Robs, just slept a little rough is all." It was obvious she didn't buy it, but he was thankful she didn't press him for more information as they pulled into the parking lot five minutes past two- five minutes late for their shift. Things between Steve and Robin hadn't changed too much- they were still thick as thieves and closer than ever, though Robin had lost just a little bit of her spark since the incidents in the Upside Down. She was a little less energetic, tended to ramble just a bit less, and they fell into comfortable silence during their shifts more often than they used to. Today was no different, settling into their routine at work- Robin managing the counter while Steve walked around the aisles and put movies back. It was nice, quiet but not in the uncomfortable or unwelcome way- and they had little to no customers throughout their entire shift. On their drive home Robin had gone on a tangent about how weird it was that Steve hadn't tried hitting on a single girl since they started working again- going so far as to press the back of her hand to his forehead when she stepped out of the car and he'd actually laughed for the first time in days. He didn't want to go home.

8:30pm- Following his usual routine he kicked his shoes off at the door, not bothering to put them on the shoe rack as he made his way into the kitchen to retrieve a six pack of beer. He sat on his bedroom floor, back propped against the bed as he cracked one open and stared at his usual company for the night: Eddie's Jacket. "Hey man, how was your day?... Mine was alright, Robin made fun of me for not knowing who Marty McFly is... someone also returned Re-Animator finally, dunno if you've seen it but it seems like something you'd be into." Slowly he raised the can, taking a long hard swig as he just stared at the faded and worn out denim. It looked just the same as it did the night that Eddie had thrown it at him, still spattered with his own blood from his run in with the demobats. With half the can chugged down he set it between his feet, propping his elbows up on his knees as he cocked his head to the side. "Dustin hasn't spoken to me in a few weeks.. but I think he's doing alright from what Mike has told me. He's in charge of Hellfire now, you'd be proud of him.. he's just like you. He misses you, we all miss you....I miss you. I know we didn't really know each other, it's probably weird that I'm sitting here talking to your goddamn jacket, probably weird that I still have it, but I fuckin miss you Munson.. maybe not as much as Henderson does- but I miss you." and it was true, he did miss Eddie. He missed the moments in between the chaos, the times where they all laughed because of something Eddie said or did. He missed the way his eyes lit up when he got really excited over something, was it strange that he noticed these sorts of things? Steve didn't think so, he was an observant man- to an extent. He could appreciate the beauty in another person without it being romantic, he did it with Robin- the pair were platonic with a capital P and yet he found things he enjoyed about her as well. He enjoyed the way she rambled, how Eddie rambled when he was nervous. It was endearing, but platonic with a capital P just as his feelings towards Robin were.

10:39am- He didn't remember finishing that pack of beer but the empty carton was sat on his floor still and at some point he'd dragged himself up onto the bed with Eddie's jacket wrapped around him like a security blanket. For the first time since returning from the Upside Down he'd slept through the entire night without a spot of night terrors or nightmares plaguing him. He woke up with a mild headache from all the beer but he felt well rested, deciding to skip this morning's cup of coffee in favor of a tall glass of water before again going through the motions of getting ready for work. Shower, brush teeth, fiddle with hair until it looks decent for once, add a few things to the grocery list, get dressed, head out the door- in that order. It was a muggy summer afternoon but despite this he left the house with a bounce to his step, settling into his car and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel the entire ride to the Buckley household. There was no concern for him this time when Robin hopped into the car, the pair making idle conversation that consisted of Robin going on about how she had plans with Nancy which earned a raised brow before the girl went into a spiral promising that it was purely platonic "With a capital P! She's still with Johnathan-". Steve had gotten a word out here and there, letting the other ramble on about how excited she was to actually go and do something.. Steve wished he was so lucky but he had a routine- and if he wasn't home on time who would talk to Eddie? No that wasn't right.. Eddie's jacket, not Eddie. Eddie was gone. This shift went by considerably faster, maybe due to having gotten enough sleep- or maybe because Robin kept him from looking at the clock every five minutes by forcing him to play checkers with her in between customers... either way when the sun began to set and the clock read 7pm he was excited to close up and head home for the day.

9:03pm- Steve had arrived home later than intended, having stopped at the store on his way home to pick up a few necessities since his parents still hadn’t returned and someone had to keep the house in a livable condition. Toilet paper, bread, frozen pizzas, batteries for the tv remote, and of course a new bottle of Jack. Breaking routine a bit he kicked his shoes off in the comfort of his own bedroom, bottle of jack in hand as he brought it up with him after unpacking the rest of the groceries. He twisted the cap off as he carefully kicked both shoes away from the door, glancing over at his chair expecting to be met with the sight of Eddie's jacket only it wasn't there. His hands rattled, nearly dropping the bottle as his eyes darted around the room- panic clawing its way up his throat and chilling him to his very core until his gaze landed on the familiar worn denim sitting on his bed still crumpled from when he'd slipped out of it before work. "Jesus- sorry I'm late Munson... I uh- needed more whiskey." Everybody grieved differently. Dustin had busied himself with Hellfire club, Mike had begun planning a new campaign for Dustin, Robin had begun spending her free time with Nancy, and Steve spoke to a piece of fabric. He supposed it made him a little strange, treating an article of clothing as if it were a living breathing human being wasn't exactly normal but it helped him in a weird way. If he could treat this jacket the way he'd treat Eddie.. maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to forgive himself one day. He didn't bother getting dressed again after his uniform hit the floor and he was left standing next to his bed clad in a pair of boxer briefs, nor did he hesitate to slide that jacket back over his shoulders as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

1:54am- Dreams weren't something Steve had too often, unless you counted the nightmares he had on an almost weekly basis ever since Barb had 'drowned in his pool' some years ago. He had a few recurring nightmares about the things that went bump in the night- getting eaten alive by demobats being the new one that he found almost ironic since.. well.. that's how Eddie had gone. His own near-death experience at the hands of those winged devils was enough to give him a lasting fear, seeing Eddie's mangled body had solidified that fear for him. Steve wasn't a dreamer usually, but what constitutes as a dream? Well, a dream is a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind while they're asleep. Most people think of dreams being good, positive, often enjoyable or mildly confusing things that once awake can just vaguely be remembered or in most cases are forgotten entirely seconds after waking up. Nightmares were the negative dreams- scary and unpredictable.. they could rear their ugly heads at any given time and turn a good dream over on its ass. What Steve experienced was neither good nor bad.

Out of body experiences were always something Steve assumed to be a myth, some made up thing you only heard about in movies about magic- not that he enjoyed that sort of thing but he’d been making his way through Eddie’s extensive collection of fantasy films on his days off. When drifting off to sleep it was a sinking sort of feeling despite still being propped upright against the wooden headboard. It was like some invisible force was pulling him down.. down… down into the plush depths of his mattress and into total darkness before he snapped back up like the ricochet of a rubber band pulled taut and then released. All of a sudden he was in Eddie’s trailer, in his room that he’d seen just in passing during their brief time inside.. and there, sat on the couch, was Eddie. His jaw was slacked, eyes dull and lifeless and yet Steve found himself reaching out for the other but before he could touch the man he’d turned to smoke and vanished. Steve’s legs were welded to the spot, he couldn’t move as he sank into the carpet like quicksand- dropping down deeper until he was engulfed in darkness once more only to emerge on the other side spat out like a hiccup into the Upside Down. His back hit the carpet, eyes wide and alert and as he sat up he came face to face with Eddie again- only he looked like himself.. like not a thing had happened to him. He didn't open his mouth, didn’t move or blink, he just stared Steve down with wide panicked eyes as a slowed rendition of Trapped Under Ice by Metallica played slowed down and distorted through the alternate version of Eddie’s living room.

No release from my cryonic state

What is this, I've been stricken by fate?

Wrapped up tight, cannot move can't break free

Hand of doom has a tight grip on me

Freezing, can't move at all

Screaming, can't hear my call

I, I'm dying to live

Cry out

I'm trapped under ice

Those lyrics, just those lines, played on repeat like a mantra as Eddie stared at Steve- looked directly into his soul. They sat like that for what could have been minutes, hours, days- Steve wasn’t sure, time in the Upside Down had always been a little wonky and he supposed that went for the dreamt up version of it as well…. assuming this really was a dream. With motions quick as lightning Eddie’s hands shot forwards, gripping each side of Steve’s face as tears as black as night welled up and slid down his cheeks thick as molasses. His jaw twitched, popping open just a fraction as Steve watched on in shock.

“RUN!”

8:30am- Birds chirped just outside the clear glass of Steve’s window as he shot up in bed, eyes wide and chest heaving as he’d been forced out of his dream by the blaring of his alarm clock. He didn’t know how to feel about the things he’d seen, didn’t know how to process seeing Eddie so clearly.. so vividly as if the man were actually there. He could still feel the chilled press of clammy hands against his cheeks, still feel the frantic tremble in those limbs as he’d shouted at him without even moving his mouth. Normally he would’ve called Robin to ask but her shift started later than his- so he instead busied himself with getting ready for the few hours he’d be spending with the man.. The myth.. The legend- Keith himself.

10:00am- Steve had walked into work right on time, an exceedingly rare occurrence as of late but Keith didn’t seem to mind either way. Without Robin there to keep him company and keep his mind occupied the first few hours of his shift were absolute hell on earth, the worst form of torture known to mankind! It was, in short, boring. To give Keith some credit he wasn’t all bad, sure the guy was weird and had a knack for taking things way too seriously but he wasn’t terrible in any way shape or form. 10am until 1pm- exactly three hours were spent in the other man’s company and god was he happy to see that familiar head of messy chestnut hair when Robin finally strode through the big glass doors. He didn’t bother idle chit chat, didn’t bother avoiding the topic of his dream- he needed advice and who better to give it to him than his best friend and platonic soulmate Robin Buckley?

“So- Eddie grabbed your face… told you to run… and then you woke up?”

Steve nodded profusely, hand instinctively raising to fix his hair- smooth it back out as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I mean he looked scared… and I think I should’ve been scared too Robs but I wasn’t. It was really weird.” Maybe he was insane, maybe he’d missed the other man far more than he’d initially thought or maybe he was just going off the deep end and the dream meant absolutely nothing but it didn’t feel like it was nothing. It didn’t feel empty and it didn't feel pointless. Robin had always been good at deciphering these things, had always been good at reading between the lines and seeing the deeper meaning within and as he watched her nod along he’d held out a little bit of hope that she’d be able to tell him something about his dream.

“Steve… are you getting enough sleep? Are you drinking again? Look at me-”

And that was it. Disappointed wasn’t quite the word for what Steve felt, betrayed maybe? For the first time in their friendship he and Robin weren’t on the same page, not even remotely although she was pinning him yet again with that knowing look of concern that he didn’t quite understand. With a sigh he slouched back against the wall behind the counter they occupied, arms crossing over his chest as he shook his head and did his best to smile though the light behind his eyes had gone out and suddenly he wanted the floor to swallow him up. He didn’t usually take dreams seriously, usually didn’t think they would or could have any lasting impact but this one… he couldn’t put his finger on why exactly but it had felt so real, like Eddie had genuinely been warning him of something. “I’m fine Robs, seriously- I’m fine. Just a wild dream that’s all.”

The rest of their shift went on in relative silence, Steve didn’t feel like talking after that and Robin didn’t force him to socialize. He was hurt, but he couldn’t expect her to understand how real it had felt, like Eddie really was reaching out to him somehow… she wasn’t there, so of course she didn’t understand. It was a quick close when the sun set, and after dropping Robs off at home Steve returned to his own empty estate. He slid his shoes off at the door, setting them on the shoe rack on his way to the kitchen where he could see the flashing green light of the phone signaling there was a voicemail waiting for him. He pressed the little ivory button, one hand on his hip as he listened to the recording.

“Steven? Honey? Are you there? Pick up the phone please.” It was his mother, he could hear his father in the background cut in with a “Elaine he’s probably at work, hurry up we have dinner reservations at-” before a soft intake of air from his mother as she covered the receiver so it didn’t pick up whatever muffled and brief conversation they were having.

“Steven we’ve decided to extend our stay here just a little bit longer, now I know you have a job but we sent you a check in the mail. That should be enough to cover groceries and-”

“Elaine. Dinner reservations.”

“Sorry sweetie I’ve gotta go. Kisses!” and then the line cut and the voicemail ended.

That was the first Steve had heard from his parents in a little under a month, they’d left right after the earthquake hit- didn’t even tell him. No warning, no invitation- he just woke up to a note and some cash on the kitchen counter. He could only scoff, fists clenching at his sides for a moment before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. There was no use getting mad, he knew this would happen. It always did. He left the phone then, spinning on his heel and entering the kitchen. Immediately he headed for the fridge, yanking it open to pull a six pack out. That was left in the living room, Steve making his way upstairs to change into a pair of pajamas and he had been on his way back out when he paused in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder, gaze drifting down to the denim sitting neatly this time on his side of the bed. “Shit, sorry Munson- you wanna watch a movie?” He didn't even hesitate, entering the room again to pick up the battle jacket and shrug it over his shoulders. It was still a little small on his larger frame though with the weight he’d been losing he didn’t doubt it would fit perfectly in a couple months time. It’s weight on his shoulders was comforting as he made his way back downstairs, setting up shop on the couch to watch The Hobbit. It was one of the movies Eddie had owned, one he watched frequently despite not really understanding anything going on in the animated film.

2:30am- Steve jolted awake, startled by the sudden ringing of his landline. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, the sixth and final beer still clutched in his hand half drank. Rubbing sleep from his eyes he set the bottle down, wobbling as he stood up- feet dragging against the hardwood floor on his way into the hallway where the phone sat on the wall. With a groan he picked it up- putting it to his ear to mumble a “I swear to god Robin do you have any idea-”

He could hear breathing on the other line. It sounded labored and choppy, as if every inhale was effort- as if it was painful to breathe. For a moment he just sat there, listening to that sound and processing it- one glance over at the caller ID told him it definitely wasn’t Robin. The display itself was flashing on and off, the numbers scrambling themselves like static though every few seconds they would solidify into a readable number and when he finally saw the name displayed his jaw went slack.

M-u-n-s-o-n.

“Hello? Who the fuck is this? This shit isn’t funny-” Steve was cut off by the sound of a choked out sob from the other line before the other person’s breath cut short and a sort of gurgling began. It was low at first, escalating in volume quickly as it was accompanied by coughs and grunts as well as that same labored breathing as if the person was choking on liquid. Water? It sounded thicker, rougher, like something was coagulating and getting caught in someone's throat. Blood.

“Eddie?” he was met with radio silence aside from the continued gurgling though it slowly faded out, the labored breathing however- that remained.

“Ste-”

The line cut out entirely and Steve stood there listening to the dial tone for a long while before hanging up. Frantically he pressed the call back button though when selecting the number to call back- Eddie’s wasn’t there. In the list of recent callers there was his Mother, Robin, and Family Video. No Eddie, or Munson, or anything to confirm that had been him or that the call had even happened in the first place. His head hurt, throbbed as he stumbled back over to the couch to sit down. Had he imagined all of that? There was no way that was actually Eddie either way, he’d seen the guy's corpse. He’d seen the state he was in, there was no coming back from that- there was no coming back from death. Sleep didn’t come easily after that, Steve laid awake on the couch staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts raced. When sleep finally did take him again, he’d clutched a pillow to his chest- needing something to hold onto as he drifted off.

11:32am- His body ached from sleeping in a twisted position curled up on the couch, sitting up slowly and setting the pillow that he’d been cuddling beside him. It was odd having a day off, even more odd knowing that Robin had to be stuck at work without him. Steve had a routine for his days off- specifically for the days where he couldn’t invite Robin over to watch movies but before he even started he needed a drink. His first initial instinct when walking into the kitchen was to reach for the beer- having to pause and remind himself that it was far too early for that before he shut the door and instead poured himself a tall glass of ice water. Now- normally he’d go visit Robin and hang around Family Video to keep her company and keep her from murdering Keith with her bare hands but it was a little too early for that. So instead he made his way back into the living room, picking the tv remote up off the coffee table to turn on the news.

“I'm standing in front of the once abandoned Munson trailer-”

Everything fell on deaf ears from that point on as Steve’s vision blurred at the edges, focusing entirely on the familiar mop of brown hair in the background of the scene. He was inside the back of his van next to Wayne- the much older man cradling none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie who had died in Dustin’s arms. Eddie who they’d left behind in the Upside Down. Eddie who had a healthy glow to his skin as he glanced up at the camera and Steve was rooted to the spot. Eddie was staring at him, through the tv and directly at him and it sent a violent shiver down his spine- fear and elation coexisting as he stared right back. His hands rattled as he watched the slowly forming smile stretch Eddie’s features, dropping the glass cup as it shook straight out of his grip to shatter on the floor. There was something unsettling about that stare, that smile, like it was fully directed at him and only him as if Eddie knew he was watching but he didn’t have the facilities to delve too deep into that… he was too elated that Eddie was apparently alive and well.

The loud ring of his phone cut through the still muffled and almost muted voices of the news reporter as he continued to speak but Steve was still frozen in place staring straight ahead unwilling to break eye contact because somewhere in the back of his mind he was afraid to look away, afraid that if he did the other man would vanish like this was all just some twisted trick- a hallucination of his broken and fragile mind. Despite being ignored the phone continued to ring until the answering machine clicked on and Dustin’s voice cut through.

“Steve? Steve I know you're there man please tell me you’re watching the news right now? Are you watching the news? I’m coming over-”

As the phone cut out he released a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, one equally shaky hand moving to run fingers through locks of brown hair before gripping onto it gently. He took a step back, then another, and on the third his calves hit the couch and he collapsed onto it. The reporter approached Eddie and Wayne, uttering something that again fell on deaf ears before holding the microphone out towards Eddie who leaned in slightly to speak as the camera zoomed in on him.

“I don’t have much to say, just happy to be back.”

Steve watched, couldn't tear his gaze away as he studied Eddie’s features through the tv screen as he smiled again. He noted the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, a scar just above his right eyebrow, the subtle flush in the apples of his cheeks before his gaze dropped down to Eddie’s lips and stayed there… had Eddie’s teeth always looked so sharp?

Authors Notes: this will be updated at my leisure but I've got multiple chapters planned already, I hope you enjoy it! This is posted on my AO3 as well at welcome_to_hellfire

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