#Good parent wayne munson

[withacapitalp]

@thefreakandthehair

Dearest Lex! First of all, happy birthday <3 People like you are once in a lifetime, and I'm so so grateful we've become friends. I tried to pull together a little surprise, I'm sure someone else has already posted theirs, but I scheduled mine to be here bright and early!!

For anyone not in the loop who wants to do something for Lex DM me!!

Link to Ao3

Eddie had never exactly had the best track record with birthdays. 

When he had been couch surfing with his mom and dad, there wasn’t exactly time for setting up a birthday party, or money for cake and presents. If he was lucky, his mom would get him a cheap toy car, or a lollipop that she swiped from the gas station �� little ways to make the day special. She tried, she really did, but that was mostly at the start.

By ten, she seemed to have forgotten her son even had a birthday, too lost in the drugs to see him waiting for her to notice. Hell, there were even some years where he himself completely missed it. They would pass by somewhere, and Eddie would offhandedly see the date, realizing with a jolt that his birthday had passed days or weeks ago and nothing had changed. 

He hated those years most of all. 

But…but today was his thirteenth birthday. 

He was turning thirteen today, and he was finally in a place he could really call home. He was turning thirteen, and for the first time, Eddie wanted to let himself hope. He let himself day dream about a party with balloons and a cake littered with bright candles. He had thought endlessly about how Thirteen was going to be great, the best year yet. His year. 

Eddie had, foolishly, let himself think that things might be better now. After all, Wayne had been nothing but kind to him so far, always wanting to know what Eddie thought and listening when he told wild long winded stories. Wayne was good, and he seemed like the type to make birthdays something special. 

He woke up that morning, hope starting to stir in his chest, and it instantly vanished when he threw his arm out to wake his uncle, only to find that the other side of the bed was cold. 

Uncle Wayne wasn’t in the room they shared, and when Eddie wandered out, there was a post-it note on the fridge saying that he switched to the day shift, and he wouldn’t be home till 7:00 tonight. 

No cake, no presents, not even a card. He hadn’t even written Happy Birthday on the note. 

He tried not to be disappointed, tried to reason with himself, because Uncle Wayne might not have even known it was his birthday. He hadn’t even known Eddie existed until a few months ago, how could he know when his birthday was?

But there was a wrathful sad creature writhing in his chest, pressing down on that old wound and making it reopen, telling Eddie that if Wayne actually did love him, he would have known. He would have cared enough to ask. 

It wasn’t fair to think that way. His Uncle cared plenty. He had taken Eddie in, given him a home, shared his room and his food and his life when didn’t have to, and Eddie wanted to be grateful for all of that. He was grateful for all of that. 

He just also wanted Thirteen to be different. 

The rest of the day was the same. Eddie went through school in a daze, barely paying attention to his classes or the assholes all around that liked to make fun of him. No one wished him well, or asked how he felt to be thirteen, and he was almost kind of glad for that. 

Because thirteen felt the way that twelve did. It felt the way eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, and four did too. 

Thirteen sucked. 

By the time he got out of class and back to the trailer park, it was getting hard to hold back the tears pressing at his eyes. He lept into the trailer and shut the door with a bang, hitting his back against the door and sliding down. He collapsed onto the floor in a heap, sniffling and pressing his palms against his eyes, trying to make them stop before they started. 

Eddie had always been a crybaby. It was something his father had absolutely detested about him, something he had tried to beat out of his son time and time again. Those attempts had only made Eddie cry more, which made his father angrier, which started a vicious cycle, which led to scars and nightmares and all of the things Eddie just wanted to forget about. 

This wasn’t how Thirteen was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the bad things, he wasn’t supposed to be upset. 

“Why’re you cryin’ kiddo?” 

Eddie immediately startled at the unexpected voice, jumping with a gasp and accidentally smacking his head against the metal door. Now he was really crying, holding the back of his head with both hands and choking on cut off sobs. 

Wayne shot up from his easy chair and dashed over. He lifted his arm, probably only intending to help Eddie up, or check the back of his head for a lump. 

That wasn’t what Eddie saw. Eddie saw a hand raised his way, and tears on his cheeks, and knew he was about to get punished again for being a stupid crybaby. He flinched back, ducking his head between his legs and waiting. 

But no hand ever came. No screaming, no pain. Nothing. Hesitantly, Eddie lifted his head up, watching his uncle with fearful eyes. 

Wayne was still as a statue, his arms at his sides. There was a funny look on his face, a strangled kind of shock that looked uncomfortable. Eddie uncurled from his ball, lowering his arms and wrapping them around his knees loosely. 

“‘M sorry,” He mumbled, humiliated. This was really turning out to be his worst birthday ever. Wayne chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute before slowly lowering himself down to the floor, groaning as his knees cracked loudly in the quiet trailer. 

“You don’t got to apologize,” Wayne said once he was on the ground. Eddie knew that was true. This wasn’t the first time they had done this particular song and dance, but it was the worst time. Wayne told him the same thing every time- he didn’t have to apologize. 

Eddie still felt the need to. 

“Sorry,” He repeated, cringing as the word flew out of his mouth. Wayne sucked a deep breath in and let it out in a long sigh, looking around as he contemplated his words. 

“Does it help you if I say I’m not angry with you?”

Eddie paused, considering. Whenever Wayne said he didn’t have to apologize, Eddie always felt like he needed to apologize for apologizing. It was silly, and confusing, and made his heart race. 

But the thought of knowing that Wayne wasn’t upset made his heart beat just a little bit slower, so Eddie nodded hesitantly. Wayne nodded back, clicking his tongue once and looking Eddie right in the eye, forcing him to look back. 

“Then I’m not angry with you. Not even a little bit, Eds,” Wayne said carefully, making sure every word was heard. 

It was the little nickname that really made Eddie’s shoulders start to relax. Wayne had started calling him that the third or fourth day after his arrival, and, every time he did it, Eddie felt just a little bit safer. 

Wayne let Eddie calm down a bit more, watching him brush away any lingering tears and take long shaking breaths. Then, when he was sure Eddie wasn’t going to fall apart again, he repeated his initial question in a soft, unexpectedly gentle, tone. 

“Why were you cryin’?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. Now that it was over, he felt ridiculous for falling apart like that. It was such a silly thing to get so upset over, and Wayne didn’t need to know. 

“I thought you had a shift?” Eddie said, changing the subject while smoothly avoiding the question.

“Got Gordie to take the last three hours. I wanted to be home to surprise you,” Wayne replied. 

A blinding rush of hope stabbed Eddie directly in the chest. He despised it for still existing, for not being beaten down by the reality of the life he had lived. Through all of it, he still had hope, he still wanted to believe something better was coming. 

Maybe that was stupid. Maybe it was brave. Maybe it was the only thing keeping Eddie alive at this point. He dropped his gaze to the floor between them, trying to gather up his courage. 

“Why?” Eddie whispered, unable to look up in case he was wrong. 

It was quiet. It was quiet for a long time. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t dare to even breathe too much. He couldn't until he heard the answer. 

“...It’s your birthday, kiddo,” Wayne said, each word coming out slow and measured, “You know that, right?”

Wayne knew. 

Wayne knew, and he had taken time off, even though they needed the money badly. He had given up those precious few hours just to be here for him. Just because he wanted to. 

The lump that had begun to ease out of his throat grew three times as big. 

“Then why’re you so surprised that I’d wanna be here?” Wayne wondered, sounding confused, but also sad. Guilt began to bloom in his stomach, but Eddie couldn’t bear the thought of lying right now. 

“Didn’t think you knew,” Eddie mumbled, feeling his lashes starting to stick together. The unspoken ‘didn’t think you cared’ sat heavy in the air between them. 

Eddie dropped his head between his knees again, hating himself for thinking badly about Wayne. His uncle had done nothing but care for him this entire time, making sacrifice after sacrifice, and Eddie had really thought he would do something as terrible as this? What kind of person was he? 

Wayne, unaware of Eddie’s internal battle, spoke slowly, taking his time with each word the way he always did. 

“Got it out of the paperwork your social worker sent me,” Wayne said, hesitating for a second before lowering his voice into a whisper before asking his next question. 

“Is that what got you all upset?”

This is where it would be smart to lie. 

If it was his father, Eddie would have lied. 

If it was mother, Eddie would have lied. 

If it was anyone but Wayne, Eddie would have lied. 

Instead, he gave the tiniest nod he possibly could, taking the risk of falling and hoping his uncle was serious about wanting to catch him. 

Wayne sighed heavily, and Eddie raised his head just enough to watch as his uncle shook his head and got to his feet, only walking a few steps before coming to sit next to Eddie by the door. 

“I’m sorry. I thought about wakin’ you when I left, but I wanted to let you sleep. I should’ve done that, and I apologize,” Wayne said, lowering his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him in for a sideways hug. 

It always amazed Eddie how quickly Wayne would apologize for things. He had never heard his father say he was sorry, but Wayne did it all the time. If Eddie’s toast was too crunchy, if he was late coming home, every time he thought he misstepped, he said he was sorry. For all the little things, and all the big things too. 

It was strange, but it was probably the thing he liked most about living with Wayne. With Wayne, Eddie wasn’t always the one who had done the wrong thing. 

“But I had a plan, if you wanted?” Wayne offered, and Eddie nodded his head against Wayne’s shoulder, still not ready to talk. 

“Well, I figured we could grab a slice or two, ‘n go to the movies. See that new one you were talkin’ about? Salem’s Somethin’? Thought you might like to see your first official PG 13 movie together,”

“That sounds nice,” Eddie whispered, the smallest trace of a smile gracing his face as Wayne grinned when he spoke. 

“Yeah, then after I uh I got you a cupcake? You said you like red velvet, so I tried to get a cake, but the bakery only did cupcakes. I got a chocolate one for me, but I have a candle you can put in it.” Wayne continued, pointing over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. There was a pink box sitting there, tied tightly with white twine that came together in a pretty bow on the top. 

Eddie couldn’t even remember talking about his favorite kind of cake with Wayne. But Wayne remembered, and the thought of that flooded him with warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

He let his legs slide out straight, sitting right next to his uncle’s. His feet only reached about three quarters of the way down his uncle’s calves, but Wayne swore that would change soon. He liked to call Eddie a ‘bean pole in the making’ and that always made him laugh. 

“Oh, and I got a present for ya,” 

“A present?” Eddie wondered aloud, amazed. The movie and pizza was already so much, and the cupcake was even more. Weren’t those his presents? 

“Yeah. Go wait on the couch and close your eyes, alright? Didn’t get a chance to wrap it,” Wayne instructed, briefly stopping to ruffle Eddie’s curls before walking down the hallway to their room. 

Eddie stood on slightly shaky legs, walking over to the couch in a daze and sitting in the corner. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness take his vision as he waited, unable to guess what his present might be. 

He heard Wayne walk back over, and something heavy was placed in his lap. It was big, really big, and Eddie’s leg began to bounce in anticipation. 

“Okay, you can open ‘em,” Wayne said, and Eddie’s eyes flashed open. 

There was a guitar case in his lap. 

A real life, genuine, honest to god, guitar case. 

Eddie stared at it with big bug eyes, every single thought rushing out of his head as fast as they could go. He lifted one trembling hand and put it on the hard plastic, feeling the scratches and grooves with his fingers as he stared down at it. 

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He lifted it out of his lap, and stood up. Wayne stepped back, and Eddie kneeled down, feeling for the latches and lifting them. The guitar was somehow even better than the case. It was a soft amber wood acoustic, with a few stickers adorning the bottom, and strings that were just starting to fray at the top. 

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

“Dean, my manager at the plant? He said he was lookin’ to get a new one, so I convinced ‘im to sell me this one. ‘S a little old, and he said it’ll be finicky, but it’s a good starter guitar. Thought you might like to make some music, seein’ as you listen to so much of it,” Wayne explained. 

That was a lot more talking than he was used to from his uncle. When Eddie looked up with a wide eyed expression, still unable to speak, Wayne’s strange bout of nerves vanished. 

“I know it ain’t much,” Wayne started, hunching in his shoulders, “But-”

“I love it,” 

That was Eddie’s voice, but he didn’t think he had spoken. The words weren’t good enough. They would never be good enough. No words would ever be able to even start to explain how Eddie was feeling. He stood up and wrapped his arms tight around his uncle’s middle, burying his face in the man’s chest and trying to hide the treacherous tears that had escaped once more. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Eddie whispered endlessly, wishing that there was something better to say. 

Wayne seemed shocked, but he recovered quickly, patting Eddie on the back. 

“C’mon now,” Wayne muttered, probably embarrassed by the outburst. Eddie didn’t care. He squeezed even tighter, trying to convey everything he could with a hug, because words were pale in comparison. 

Wayne finally resolved to just let Eddie get this out, sighing and wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulders. 

“Alright. You’re alright now,” Wayne whispered, putting his chin on the top of Eddie’s head, knowing he couldn’t do that for very much longer. 

And Eddie believed him. For the first time he let himself think things were going to get better without being afraid. 

[emitowrites]

Urgh good parent Wayne is my favourite

Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.

He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.

It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.

*****

He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.

But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.

He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.

Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.

After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.

“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”

Eddie’s face was answer enough.

*****

To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.

But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.

Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.

He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.

He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.

The dark circles under his eyes remained.

Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?

He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.

But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.

He shouldn’t assume, though.

He knew how Richard Harrington was.

So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.

On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.

“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”

“Stitch him up?”

“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”

Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.

“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”

Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”

Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.

As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.

The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.

It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.

Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.

Something else was different, too.

Eddie’d moved.

Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.

Oh.

So it was like that.

Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.

He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.

“Did Eddie wake up?”

Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”

Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

She smiled at him and continued on her way.

Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.

It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.

Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

[steddiewithachance]

"Likewise"

(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)

Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie

Read on ao3 here

*

Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.

Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.

This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"

And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.

Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.

It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.

Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.

"Steve." He hears in response.

When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.

"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.

"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.

"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.

Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.

Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.

"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.

"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"

------------------

1977

When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.

He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.

He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.

Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.

"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.

"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.

"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."

"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"

"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.

"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.

"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.

Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.

Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.

------------------

"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.

"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."

------------------

"Hi Paul."

"Hey kid."

Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.

"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."

Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"

"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.

"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.

"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.

"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"

And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.

"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.

"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.

"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.

"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.

Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.

"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.

*

Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.

Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.

"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.

"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"

Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.

"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.

"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.

*

It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.

Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.

Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.

"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."

"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.

"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.

"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."

The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.

Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.

"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.

------------------

"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.

------------------

"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.

Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.

"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.

The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.

*

Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.

"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.

And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.

"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.

"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.

"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.

"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.

"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.

He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.

"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.

Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.

Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.

"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.

"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Down the hall to your left."

*

When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.

"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.

"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.

"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.

"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.

"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"

"No! I don't want to take your bed-"

"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.

"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.

------------------

"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.

"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.

"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."

"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.

"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"

"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.

"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.

"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.

"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.

"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.

"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"

Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.

"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.

"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.

"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."

"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"

[formosusiniquis]

There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

[artiststarme]

The Gift of Not Dying Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

It's been awhile but hopefully this will get me back in the groove of things. I hope you like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~ Steve watched as the dazzling smile on Eddie’s face dropped to reveal absolute, unadulterated horror. He clearly wasn’t expecting his best friend/tomorrow’s date/future boyfriend to show up at fuck past two in the morning with a bruised face and blood covered sailor’s uniform. Steve could only imagine how he would respond if Eddie had shown up to Hopper's cabin looking like death the way Steve must right now.

“Oh my god, Steve?! What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Eddie ushered him into the trailer and gently pushed him to a seat on the couch. 

Steve didn't know how to respond to him. On the one hand, he didn't want Eddie to worry. On the other hand, nothing would ever be alright again. Hop was dead, his body still stuck in the Russian base under Starcourt where he himself had died multiple times. Steve could feel the throbbing of his broken heart's beats pulsating in his face still. He definitely had a concussion if the double vision and underwater hearing were indicative of anything. Worst of all, it was all Steve's fault. This entire situation never would have happened had he not tempted the universe. He was too happy, he knew everything would fall into catastrophe eventually and he hadn't warned anyone.

So instead of answering his best friend, he pulled at Eddie's shoulders until the man got the message and wrapped him in a warm embrace that smelled of Honeybunches, motor oil, and marijuana. All of Steve's favorite smells that usually calmed him down. But not this time.

He sobbed into Eddie's chest, tears and blood mixing together on his face and soaking into the thin black fabric of Eddie's shirt. Steve just couldn't stop. He cried for the pain he'd gone through in the Russian base and the incessant battery he'd endured at the hands of sadists. He cried for the loss of Robin's normal life and the fact that she would probably hate him now since he'd dragged her into the absolute shit-show that was his life. Most of all though, he cried for Hopper. He cried for his dad that adopted him into his little family and gave him a little sister, the dad that dropped everything to help Steve whenever he needed it.

Poor Eddie just hugged him through it all. He didn't know why Steve had woken him up from a dead sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning only to unveil a face more recognizable as ground beef. He didn't know who had beaten him up or why Hopper wasn't behind him in his truck ready to drag him back to the overprotected cabin in the woods. He didn't need to understand because his best friend was in need of help and a good hug which Eddie could provide.

After what felt like hours of crying, Steve rasped, “Eds, Hop is gone. He died tonight.”

Eddie’s hands stopped their soothing circles on his back and he pulled back to look him in the eyes. There was no joking there, just complete and utter dread and hopelessness in the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

“Chief Hopper died tonight? Are you okay, where are you going to go?” He backtracked for a moment and pulled Steve’s battered body to his gently once more. “I’m sorry for your loss, man. I know the Chief was like a father to you. What’s going to happen now?”

Steve wanted to cry, to scream at the world for being so unfair as to take one of the only people that had ever cared for him. But his eyes were dry and his heart was bone tired after such an arduous night. So instead of sobbing some more or breaking down, Steve shrugged. “I’m going to have to go back to my parent’s house. I can’t stay in Hop’s cabin without him there. And El is going to live with Mrs. Byers. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Eddie shook his head and placed a weary hand on Steve's face. He wanted to give him comfort but with all the blood and bruises on his face, he didn't know where to touch without causing more pain. “You can stay here. Wayne won’t mind as long as we don’t mess with his mug or cap collections. He’s got a habit for taking in strays. Hell, just look at me. You’ll always have a place here.”

Steve couldn’t move in though. Everywhere he went, misfortune followed. He was like a plague, sucking the life out of everything he touched. It started with his parents and he sucked the joy right out of their lives leaving nothing but bitterness and sorrow, certainly not enough love for the disappointment he became. It broke Nancy by killing her best friend and tainting their relationship. Steve should’ve kept his distance from Hop and El but his selfishness won out in the end. And now Hopper was gone. Steve’s plague had struck once again and had stolen his happiness with it. He couldn’t do that to Eddie and Wayne, they’d been through far too much already. They didn’t deserve to deal with him on top of it all. 

“Thanks but I don’t want you guys to get sick of me. I’ll just stay at my parent’s house and crash here when they come home. If that’s okay with you and Wayne.”

Eddie shook his head before entwining his fingers with Steve’s. “Of course it is. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, let’s deal with your face. Did you go to the hospital? I can literally see the bruises swelling in front of my eyes. There’s no way you don’t have a concussion right now, why would they let you drive like this?”

“They didn’t, I walked,” Steve corrected distractedly. His mind was reeling over grief and pain, too distracted to abide by the story he was supposed to use. 

“Walked from where?”

“Starcourt,” his mouth just kept talking despite his eyes seeing the alarm on Eddie’s face. “The Russians stole my car keys so I couldn’t drive. It’s fine though, I have an extra set in the kitchen of my parent’s house. It was only four miles or so, not too bad in the grand scheme of things. I’ve had worse.”

Eddie just looked at him blankly, too indecisive to decide on concern, horror, or anger at whoever had done this to his friend. He was pretty positive he loved this weirdo, who the fuck had the audacity to keep beating him to a pulp? Couldn't these monsters see how lovable he was?!

“Um, I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m getting my keys and we’re going to the hospital. I don’t need to know what happened, especially since I’m pretty positive that you’re concussed and not making sense. I just need to know you’re okay so we’re going to the ER. Let me just call Wayne and we can go.” Eddie motioned with both hands for Steve to stay still and he did. Even when he heard crashing in Eddie’s room while he looked for his keys and panicked whispers when he finally reached Wayne on the phone, Steve remained in his seat on the old couch.  

He knew he didn’t have to go to the hospital, the worst that could happen already had, but he couldn’t reveal that to Eddie. So, he’d bite his tongue and go through the motions. That was his specialty after all. For now, he’d let Eddie take care of him. He would ignore the grief that blackened his soul and the pain that accompanied the thought of his found family breaking apart. He'd deal with the trauma of loss and pain and death sometime later when he could handle a breakdown alone. At this very moment, Steve would hold himself together and lie to his friend and the doctors he was forced to see to keep the Party's secret. He had already dragged Robin into this mess and had probably lost her in the process, he didn't think he could survive losing Eddie too.

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[ladykailitha]

Exit Eddie Pursued by a Steve Part 3

The final part. It just keeps getting fluffier and fluffier. Seriously. So sweet.

Part 1 Part 2

****

The next morning Wayne found Eddie pacing the living room.

“What’s got you around the twist?” he finally asked after the hundredth sigh.

Eddie wrung his hands. “So you know how I don’t introduce you to the guys I sleep around with?”

Wayne snorted. “I figured they just liked leaping out of windows when I came home.”

Eddie giggled. “Well, this one wants to meet you.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip. “He’s really good to me, Uncle Wayne. And I mean, really good.”

Wayne hummed. “What do you mean?”

Eddie started pacing again. “It’s like every time I think, ‘oh this is it, this the part where he gets embarrassed by me’ he does something super sweet and cements that he’s with me for the long haul. It’s like he’s inside my head reading my insecurities and coming up with things that would allay those fears.”

He stopped and handed Wayne the ring.

“He gave this to you?” Wayne asked before really looking at it.

“In front a large crowd of people so that people wouldn’t say I stole it from him.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Wasn’t that dangerous?”

Eddie nodded, close to vibrating out of his skin. “But he wanted people to know he belonged to me and no one else.”

“It doesn’t look very expensive,” Wayne said with a chuckle.

“No,” Eddie agreed. “It’s a chintzy thing, but it’s important to him so...”

Wayne actually looked at the ring, like really looked at it. “Ed. This is a varsity basketball ring.”

Eddie nodded again. “That’s the other reason, I’m nervous introducing you to him. We were both targets of jock bullies, until we became untouchable through admittedly different ways. And I won’t lie and say he wasn’t like that, but after getting a concussion he started to realize popularity wasn’t all it cracked up to be so he joined drama, ditched his asshole friends and–”

“Who are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Eddie blushed. “He’s just so good, Uncle Wayne.”

“So why are you trying so hard to convince me?”

Eddie gulped and sat down on the sofa, hard.

“Because it’s Steve Harrington.”

Wayne stared at him for a moment and then moved to sit next to him on sofa. “We’ve talked about him before, what so different this time?”

“He wants to meet you for a start,” Eddie said furrowing his brow. “Like even the boys that were out when they were with me didn’t want to do that. He bitched out a bunch of boys in the locker room for ragging on me. And I didn’t hear that one from him by the way. I overheard a couple of guys from his gym class talking about it. When I asked it about it that night, he brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It wasn’t a big deal to defend you against bullies?” Wayne asked eyes wide.

“Yeah.”

Wayne licked his lips slowly. “All right, let’s meet this boy of yours. When is he coming over?”

“Today at noon?” Eddie said with a grimace.

Wayne looked around at the newly tidied trailer and simply said. “Ah.”

“He’s bringing pizza for lunch,” Eddie said sheepishly, “if that helps.”

“Depends from where.”

Eddie pushed him playfully. “You are such a pizza snob, God!”

There was a knock on the door and Wayne looked at his watch. “Looks like your boy is a little early.”

Eddie blushed.

“I wonder if I can have him teach that trick to you,” he said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

He got up to get the door and had his hand on the doorknob before Eddie came to his senses.

“Don’t you dare open that door, old man,” he said scrambling to the door. “I won’t have you to scare him off because of his pizza choices.”

Wayne laughed, but let Eddie open the door. On the other side was a grinning Steve.

“I hope Carlos’s Pizza is good enough,” he said holding up the two large boxes.

Wayne took the boxes from him and peeked into the top one. “You’ll do.”

He wandered off into the kitchen for plates.

Eddie grabbed Steve by the lapels of his stupid Members Only jacket and hauled him inside to kiss the daylights out him.

Steve yelped in surprise, but went willingly into his boyfriend’s arms.

“You brought pizza from the only Italian pizzeria in town,” Eddie breathed. “He is going to love you.”

Steve laughed. “I have an Italian grandmother and rich parents, we only have ever gotten pizza at Carlos’s.”

Wayne stopped short in the small area between the kitchen and the front room, pizza shoved in his mouth. He swallowed roughly.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Wayne said a little sheepishly. “Of course he brought good pizza.”

Steve couldn’t help feel like that had docked him points.

“I’ve set some plates out for you two,” Wayne said, jutting his thumb behind him.

Eddie and Steve went to kitchen. The plates didn’t match, but Steve couldn’t find it in him to care.

Eddie opened the top box and grimaced.

He went to pull out a slice, but Steve slid the bottom box out and opened it for him.

“Cheese?” Eddie asked looking into the new box. “You bought me a cheese pizza?”

Steve smiled. “Sure. You always pick off the pepperoni off your pizza when we had it at school.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before snapping it shut to kiss Steve senseless.

“I didn’t know you noticed that,” he admitted shyly.

Steve laughed. “Dude, you used to throw the pieces into Tommy H’s hair.”

Eddie giggled. “Oops!”

They went out to the front room and Eddie sat on the sofa, and Steve sat on the floor between Eddie’s knees.

Wayne raised an eyebrow at Eddie’s meatless pizza, causing Eddie to blush.

“So Eddie tells me you’re dating now,” Wayne said after polishing off one of the slices he picked up for himself.

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, curling one hand around Eddie’s calf and rubbing it soothingly.

“You’re not worried about what’s gonna happen to two boys out in Bumfuck, Indiana?”

Steve looked up at Eddie and then back to Wayne. “Not really. I probably should. I know it’s dangerous. But I’m tired of hiding who I am to be palpable for other people.”

“You aren’t worried about what your parents are going to think?” Wayne pressed.

Steve shrugged. “They’d have to actually be home to do shit.”

Eddie and Wayne shared a glance over Steve’s head.

“What do you mean, baby?” Eddie asked softly.

“They started taking trips together when I turned sixteen,” he explained, picking at the crust of his pizza, tearing off little chunks. “The trips have gotten longer and longer the older I’ve gotten. Some days, I don’t think they remember they have a son.”

Wayne wanted to poke that statement a little bit more, but Steve was already shutting down.

“They will find out eventually,” Wayne said gently. “It’s not as though they aren’t completely disconnected from the Hawkins rumor mill.”

Again Steve rubbed Eddie’s calf, a move Eddie was starting sense was about Steve’s comfort and not his own.

“They didn’t come home when Billy Hargrove bashed my head in with a plate for stepping between him and a black fourteen year old kid for daring to hang out with his step-sister.”

The glance between Wayne and Eddie was far more concerned the last.

“Is that why you came to school after missing a couple of days with your face all black and blue?” Eddie asked softly, not sure he could say it louder. Not with Wayne nearby.

Steve nodded. “Quit the basketball team after that. That got my dad calling let me tell you. Hurt and in the hospital in the second major concussion in two years, fucking crickets. Quit the basketball team, on the phone screaming about wrecking my chances to get into a good college.”

“That’s more reason to be concerned, you realize?” Wayne asked.

Steve sighed. “Probably. But when I turned eighteen, I opened my own bank account and have been stashing away money to get out if I needed to.”

Eddie bristled at that. “You shouldn’t have to.”

Steve shrugged again. “I’ve been wanting to get out that house for a while now, and I have enough saved up to do it. Which probably why I outed myself, I guess. I knew I could walk away if I needed to.”

“So why Eddie?”

Steve blushed. He looked up at him with a dopey grin. “I’ve had a crush on him for years. Hell, my first major girlfriend was essentially fem!Eddie. Beautiful, dark curly hair, deep soulful eyes...” He ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Years?” Eddie asked. “Seriously?”

Steve stroked Eddie’s calf again and hummed in agreement. “Yeah. Ever since I started high school. You were so unapologetically yourself standing up to bullies, making sure the weirdos, freaks, and outcasts were taken care of. God, how I wished I could be one of your sheep. But I had to have the right friends, date the right people, take the right classes. So I watched you from afar.”

He looked up at Wayne. “Did he tell you how we got together?”

“Yup,” he said, sucking on his teeth.

“All of it?”

“Yup.”

Eddie laughed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I tell him everything.”

Steve shook his head. “That must be so nice.” He scratched his cheek. “When Eddie told me he was into me, that it wasn’t just about having sex, I wanted to make sure everyone knew how much I was into him.”

Eddie leaned down a kissed the top of his head. “That’s because you love loud, Stevie. And I wouldn’t have any other way.”

Steve kissed Eddie’s knee as a thank you.

“Ed said that you seemed to recognize the doubts in his head,” Wayne said, “and take steps to combat them before they took root.”

Steve blushed. “Oh, I didn’t even realize I was doing that. I just knew all the fears I had and what I would have liked my partner to do to allay them. And then did that.”

“You’re so sweet, babe.” Eddie ran his fingers through Steve’s hair and he leaned into the touch with a sigh.

Steve laid his head on Eddie’s shoulder, soaking up the comfort. Eddie kicked Steve’s thigh with his foot.

“Eat up, Stevie,” he murmured.

Steve straightened up and began to eat. The rest of the meal, descending into a comfortable silence.

They cleaned up and Steve let them keep the leftovers.

Steve said goodbye to Eddie and Wayne and him walked out to their vehicles together, Wayne for work and Steve to the final practice before the last performance.

Wayne patted his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Steve. And if you ever need a place to run to, run here.”

Steve blushed, but nodded. As he got into his car and pulled away he shook his head fondly. In the space of two hours, he had found himself a home.

The last two days had really changed his life. He had someone who loved him for who he was and a place to run to if things got bad. The ugly step-sister didn’t need a prince to happy, all it took was one earnestly sincere metalhead and Steve would take that over Prince Charming anyway. Especially since the prince had been played by Tommy H.

****

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[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie bridgerton au but make it ABO:

You could have Steve as an alpha being swarmed by mothers trying to set him up with their eligible omega’s. But Steve had sworn off relationships after what happened between him and Nancy.

And Omega Eddie who doesn’t believe he will ever be married off so he pretends not to care. But deep down he wants to be loved. He also feels indebted to his uncle Wayne who took him in and knows that if he isn’t married Wayne will be stuck with him forever.

OR you could switch it around.

Omega Steve who’s rich parents give him no say and are using him as a bargaining chip. They want to Marry him off to whoever will make their family the most powerful. This means gross old men courting Steve who wants nothing more than real true love.

Alpha Eddie who is a recluse, he fled when he was of age for the marriage season, never debuted his way into society. But he comes back after his parents passing to live with his uncle Wayne. He has come into a large fortune which is the only reason he has any prospects. But Eddie hears the whispers about him and knows what the ton truly thinks of him.

[afewproblems]

'Harring' flashes on the caller ID again, illuminated in bright green on the handheld phone in their kitchen.

It's the third time they've called today and Steve is anxious.

He hasn't heard from his parents in the last six years since he cut off all contact with them, so to see their name come up so many times all in the span of an afternoon is...well it's worrisome to say the least.

"Are you going to pick up," Eddie says as he comes up behind Steve, he drapes himself over his lovers back and nuzzles into his ear.

Steve smiles tightly and breathes out, "I don't know".

He turns in Eddie's arms to face him and brings his own arms around Eddie's lower back, holding him loosely.

"It's weird, right?" Steve says softly, "what do they want?" He slides his nose up and down Eddie's own before tipping his face up to his the tip of it.

Eddie hums, "well you won't know unless you answer love," he answers Steve's kiss with one of his own, soft against his lips, "if they call again, maybe pick up?"

Steve nods and flinches as the ringer starts up again behind them.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and out slowly through his mouth, Eddie brings up a hand to cup Steve's jaw and slides his thumb over his cheekbone.

"You got this," Eddie whispers, "if they say something shitty, just hang up, fuck em".

Steve nods and whirls around to snatch the phone off the console, he bites his lip for just a moment before saying a quiet, "Hello?"

"Steven?" A soft voice cracks wetly over the speaker and a sudden chill spreads over Steve's back.

"Mom?"

"Steven, honey," Diane Harrington says softly in a tone he's never heard before, "I need you to come home".

Steve turns around, Eddie is leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, Steve feels his face contort with confusion which Eddie answers with a tilt of his head, "what? Mom, no--"

"Steven honey, this is important--"

"No offense," Steve intejects harshly, he's gripping the phone so hard the plastic creaks under his fingers. Eddie's concerned gaze has him releasing the phone from his death grip in a matter of seconds, but it's hard. He's right back there, nineteen years old again, in a screaming match with his dad in the living room, a red handprint blooms over his jaw as he tells Robert Harrington to, 'go fuck himself,' one last time.

"But, you don't get to do this, it's been years mom so forgive me if--"

"Steven, I'm, I'm sick".

Steve stops, his mouth opens and closes as his mother chokes on a broken sob, it comes through tinny and harsh over the speaker.

She tells him of the diagnosis, some form of leukemia, how it's spread much more rapidly than the doctors anticipated, how she refused treatment.

"I'm not going to spend the rest of my time in a hospital with no hair in one of those godawful hospital beds if I can help it Steven".

They talk for awhile, or really Mrs. Harrington talks for another half hour while Steve stands there silently with the phone in his hands. He nods every now and again but the movements are stiff, Eddie paces around the living room, stopping in front of Steve's eyeline every now and again.

"Okay," Steve finally says, his voice cracks just slightly enough to make Eddie cross the living room towards him.

"Mom...I don't know what you expect me to do?"

"Baby?" Eddie whispers, he stands just off to the side trying to catch Steve's eye.

"No, no--no! Mom, I thought I stopped being a Harrington a long time ago, right?" Steve snarls into the receiver, "you had so many opportunities to tell Dad he was wrong but you just sat there, what else am I supposed to think except that you agree with him?"

"Baby, just hang up--"

"Mom, Ma' you have to stop, I'm not coming back, I'm so-".

His mouth snaps shut and a deep flush begins to rise up his neck and over his cheeks, his eyes glassy.

"I'm sorry you're sick, but I'm not coming back, Goodluck".

Steve removes the phone from his ear, little snippets of words and crying trickle through over the speaker as Steve places the handset back on the dock.

"Baby," Eddie tries again, he reaches out tentatively, slowly letting his hands smooth over Steve's arms at the shoulder.

Steve shakes his head, his jaw clenched as his face crumples, he lets Eddie pull him into his chest and tucks his head into the juncture of Eddie's neck and shoulder.

Steve feels Eddie bring them slowly to the floor as he tries to slow down his breathing.

"I'm so sorry baby," Eddie whispers, pillowing his check onto Steve's head, he nuzzles the fluffy hair just once and squeezes Steve tighter.

"I don't, I just, where was this when she was healthy, it's..." Steve takes a deep breath, "why now, and she's not even sorry --neither of them are," he whispers into Eddies collarbone.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, he stays quiet, listening to Steve's breathing stop and start.

"I don't want her to be sick, but I just," he sniffles, "it's not fair, I'm so angry with her, with them both --its like they get a pass for being so shitty for so long--"

"No, no they don't, not if you don't want to," Eddie says, the words are soft but the tone firm, "you don't have to give them anything you don't want to".

"But--"

"Steve," Eddie pulls back just enough for Steve to raise his head, he lifts his hand to cup Steve's cheek, "it doesn't make you a bad person to not want to see her, to see them".

Steve starts to shake his head but Eddie's hand remains steady on his cheek.

"Do you want to see her?" He asks after a beat.

"I, I don't know," Steve pulls his lower lip into his mouth and chews the corner of it until he tastes copper, "I don't..."

Eddie tilts his head and sweeps his thumb across Steve's cheek in encouragement.

"I don't want my mom to die, I want her to want to fucking fight for herself, for me --she's just giving up again, she's just deciding to quit without even trying to be my mom," he chokes out, his voice breaks as tears finally spill down his cheeks.

"I'm not, I'm not explaining it right," Steve bites out, raising his hands to grind harshly into his eyes, "I don't want to forgive her, but I, I think I would if she would just try, I don't know what to do," he trails off as his voice wobbles and wanes, he breathes out harshly and lowers his face back into Eddies neck.

"Okay," Eddie whispers into Steve's hair as he brings Steve closer, bundling him up in his arms, "you don't have to know what to do or how to feel, especially not right now".

Eddie squeezes Steve once more before shifting to his knees to stand. He hoists Steve to his feet and leads him to the kitchen before depositing him in a kitchen table chair.

Eddie busies himself at the stove, moving the half full kettle from the far burner to the largest left coils, he flicks the element on and lowers the whistle back to alert him when the water boils.

"Did I ever tell you how I handled my mom's funeral?" Eddie asks, banishing the quiet from the room and almost startling Steve.

"I yelled at the casket," Eddie says with an air of non-chalance that does not match the words. He grabs two mugs from the cupboard before grabbing a box of tea from the pantry. He leaves the prepped cups on the counter before turning back around to face Steve.

"It was open, shouldn'ta' been," he continues with a shake of his head, "rural town, mortician wasn't used to working on overdoses so, they couldn't quite cover up the purple".

Steve reaches for Eddie's hands as he comes back to the table, in three slow strides. He smiles but a long sigh escapes Eddie as he sits in the chair next to Steve.

"I was thirteen, and I was so, so mad at her for leaving me," Eddie murmurs, "I couldn't help it, Uncle Wayne had to take me home before it was even over".

Eddie raises his head to meet Steve's eyes, "I felt like shit after though, probably cried all night once we got home".

"Im going to tell you what Wayne told me," Eddie says softly, he scoots to the edge of his seat, until his knees are brushing Steve's own.

"When you lose someone that made your life hard, you grieve more than just that person, you also grieve all that lost potential, everything you didn't have with that person," Eddie squeezes Steves hands once more before gently letting them go. He stands up as the kettle begins to squeal from the stove.

"Everything they never gave you and the possibility that they could change, it's like--like that physics guy," Eddie laughs, waving his hands at Steve's confused expression, "you know the one with the cat?"

Steve shakes his head, a small watery smile begins to bloom over his face as Eddie continues to make their tea and explain.

"You'll never know if they could have been better to you because they died, so they both are and aren't a good parent simultaneously," Eddie says, linking his fingers together, "shit, I bet Dustin could explain this better".

He walks their filled mugs over to the table and takes his seat again

"I dunno about that Eds," Steve mumbles as he wipes his eyes, "when did you get so wise?"

"'All Wayne sweetheart," Eddie hums with a soft grin that pulls at the corners of his eyes, he reaches out to wipe a stray tear from Steve's cheek, "don't tell him though, he doesn't need the ego boost".

Steve barks out a laugh, before Eddie pulls him into another tight hug, "so, you don't have to know how you feel right now, okay?"

"Okay".

Steve isn't sure how long they stay like that, but by the time Eddie let's go, their tea has gone cold.

[italiansteebie]

someone is finally taking care of steve harrington and to everyone's surprise it just so happens to be wayne munson.

they didn't seek each other out. not really. after eddie had... passed... wayne was lonely. he wasn't afraid to admit it, his boy was gone, and his home had been ripped in half by what the government called an earthquake. he didnt have much to do these days, spending most of his time at the relief shelter at the highschool, helping take care of those a little worse for wear after the earthquake. he just didn't expect steve harrington to be one of those people.

he noticed the boy wandering around the first few days, never really going home, always helping others, making sandwiches or just keeping himself busy. wayne though, he'd raised eddie practically, and he saw right through steve's attempts to be okay.

he'd seen the boy with those kids eddie played with and how he cared for them, hell he'd even offered wayne his condolences, tearful and wobbly, but sincere, and apologetic for the way the town had treated eddie, he he'd let his friends treat eddie. so the kid wasn't that bad, not really.

and when he watched steve slip into the bathroom when he thought no one was looking to have a breakdown, he knew the boy needed someone. he needed someone too. so he followed him one day, patting him on the back, rocking him back and forth gently.

"i don't know what y'all went through, kid. and i've heard ya talking to the buckley girl about NDAs and all that junk. i know eddie got mixed up in it, and those kids told me what ya did for him. it'll be alright, okay, steve? it'll be alright."

and the truth came out not long after that, steve had broken down after a nightmare and let the truth slip, too tired to care about breaking the NDA. and so wayne learned everything and couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of gratitude that eddie didn't have to deal with all that anymore. but here was steve, shaking and stuttering in his arms, incoherently begging for his mother who hasn't set foot in hawkins in the past 6 months. and from what wayne gathered, she and her husband had no intentions of coming back, especially not after their house had been destroyed.

their lack of care for their son made his blood boil, the whole situation felt too similar to when eddie first came to stay with him. he pushed down the anger though, and he and steve worked through their grief together.

it was an odd friendship, if you could call it that, but it worked out in the end. wayne knew what happened to his boy, and steve got a stable father figure that payed attention to the things he said, and even gave him a hug once in a while.

[mugloversonly]

Silver over Gold

Ch 3: Kintsugi - Final

Ch.1 Ch.2 AO3

Summary:

Steve and Eddie finally talk.

Steve stood outside Eddie’s door horrified by what he heard on the other side. Eddie was sobbing and his inner omega was whining weakly. “Eddie? Baby can I come in?” He pleaded.

“Alpha?” Eddie cried softly. “Door’s locked.” His voice was fading into a whisper. “I’m sorry alpha.”

Steve didn’t think twice about ripping the door of the hinges; he'd fix it later, he just hoped Wayne would understand. His omega needed him and his alpha would stop at nothing to help him (for once he was in total agreement). The smashing of the door echoed through the whole trailer but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. He was curled up on his side in the corner of the room with his head tucked against his knees, shaking violently. Steve rushed over to him and gently swept his hair out of his face. He gasped when he saw his beautiful omega. “Oh, Eddie.” He whispered. He was paler than usual, practically translucent. His lively chocolate eyes were red rimmed and puffy, empty as they stared up at him. Steve wasn’t even sure if Eddie could see him right now.

“I’m sorry alpha.” Eddie whispered. Steve stared at him hoping for some awareness in his eyes but there still wasn’t anything. He must be speaking unconsciously.

“Sh,” Steve cooed. “I’m right here, omega. Your alpha is right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms and kissed him on the forehead. His skin was freezing to the touch and if Steve didn’t know better he’d think he just came out of Lover’s Lake.

He took him into his arms, laid them back in Eddie’s nest, and removed their shirts for skin contact, pulling the blanket over them for good measure . Steve made sure to hold the omega’s nose directly onto his scent gland. He didn’t know much about rejection sickness, but from what he learned in school one way to cure it was through comforting touch and scents. Eddie barely moved and didn’t acknowledge Steve at all. Steve was having a hard time staying calm but the whines and howling of his omega were helping him to stay focused.

H is shivering finally subsided and Eddie fell into a light haze. He pulled back from Steve and his eyes were a bit clearer. “Stevie?” He asked. At Steve’s nod he threw himself back. He didn’t deserve to be held like this. He was a bad omega. His alpha didn’t love him and it was all his fault. Steve didn’t let him get far before he was yanking him right back in. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and nuzzled his neck. “I’m sorry Steve. I should’ ve trusted you . I'm a bad omega.” He sobbed but Steve clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You're not a bad omega Eddie. You're my omega.” Steve said. He felt more than heard Eddie’s gasp and watched as his wet eyes widened. He reached up and pulled Steve’s hand off his mouth.

“I’m still your omega?” He whispered hopeful yet terrified.

“Yes, darling.” Steve replied caressing his cheek. Eddie put his hand over Steve’s and held it there.

“You still want to be my alpha? After everything I put you through?” Steve looked deep into Eddie’s eyes and kissed him on the nose.

“You didn’t put me through anything. I will always be your alpha. Even if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me, I will be here waiting. There is nothing you could do that would drive me away. I will never leave you.” He promised. “Let me apologize now.”

“No, Steve you don’t owe me anything.” Eddie said clutching his shirt. “I was the one in the wrong.”

“No you weren’t. I was scared. I didn’t stop to consider that I was stringing you along.” He bowed his head as tears finally spilled over. “I love you, Eddie. I never want you to doubt that. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I’m sorry the first time I said it was in an argument.” He grabbed Eddie’s face and tilted it until their lips were barely a millimeter apart. “I would never lie to you. I know why you would think that. Wayne told me. Just know, that the most important person in my life, is right here in my arms. Okay?”

“Except Robin?” He knew it was shitty, but he needed to know.

“No my lovely omega. Even more important than Robin.” He kissed him then. A quick press of lips, there and gone in mere moments. “Robin is my best friend and I won’t stop loving her or change how she and I are with each other. But you’re my future mate, and nothing is more important than you feeling secure in us.” Eddie surged forward and kissed him hard practically shoving his tongue down his throat.

“I don’t want you to stop being friends with Robin or anything like that, Stevie. It’s just…” Eddie knew he had to let Steve hear some of this from him. “The pups constantly tell me how you two were made for each other and how it’s only a matter of time for you two to mate.” Eddie looked down. “I guess, with you wanting to keep it a secret and when I ask about courting you brush it off, mix that with Dustin asking me to find out if you’re secretly dating Robin and I thought it was only a matter of time before you stopped what we had and went with her. And when I saw you two together, I thought it finally happened and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me first.” His voice broke on that last word.

“Wait a second...the pups have been saying what?!” Steve yelled out startling the omega and causing him to whimper. “Sorry.” He took a few calming breaths before asking again. “The pups have been telling you that Robin and I are secretly together?”

“Basically.” Eddie admitted.

“No wonder you didn’t believe me.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t worry my love I’ll set the record straight as soon as I can.” He snuggled Eddie closer and kissed his hair.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with Steve. Not for my sake.” He understood that it may be hard for Steve since he had only dated female omegas before. But his alpha just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll put an ad in the newspaper try me.” He laughed. “It’ll say something like: I, Steven Anthony Harrington am courting and plan to mate with the beautiful” he leaned over and nuzzled against Eddie’s scent gland causing the omega to giggle. “Wonderful, remarkable, one of a kind, Edward Wayne Munson.” He nipped lightly at his neck. “I will don’t tempt me.”

Light finally returned to Eddie’s eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered. Steve knew he was thanking him for much more but Steve didn’t want him to feel grateful that Steve treated him like a worthy partner.

“No thanks necessary. I’m not going to hide any more okay? In fact, close your eyes.” he said. When Eddie did so, he reached into his pocket to pull something out that he fastened around Eddie’s pale throat and kissed him softly. “Open.”

Eddie opened his eyes and gasped. It was the most unique courting gift he’d ever received. Pure silver because he mentioned to Steve once that it was his favorite precious metal. The pendant was a perfect copy of his warlock with small rubies creating the red lightening. As he took a closer look, he realized the neck of the guitar was actually Steve’s nail bat. It was the perfect combination of them.

His chest no longer felt tight and his nose tickled as his blood orange scent began pouring out of his scent gland. It was faint, but it was there. Steve beamed and pushed his nose to the source and took a big inhale. “Thank you, Alpha. I accept your request to court.” Eddie said in the traditional manner. He pulled away. “I’ll give you something I scented in return once it gets back to normal.” Eddie promised. Steve nodded and pulled him into another kiss. This one was more heated and while Eddie did feel better and the sickness was receding, he wasn’t ready to go very far. He leaned back slightly but stayed close so the alpha knew he was okay. “Is it alright, if we take it slow?” He couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Whatever you need.” Steve said tilting his head up. “What ever you want. It’s yours.” He said more like an oath than a promise.

“I threw away your yellow sweater. I’m sorry. I know it was your favorite.” He admitted ashamed. Steve slid away and for a second Eddie thought he was leaving, but before he could let out a single noise of protest he was getting hit in the face with soft cotton. In his hands was the best thing he'd ever seen.

“Wayne said he saw you throw it away and figured you were just upset.” Eddie smiled.

“He knows me so well.”

“I’d hope so, he is your dad and all.” Steve said. “Speaking of, I’d like to formally ask him to court you. I know you already said yes, but it’s traditional to ask an omega’s parent.” Eddie beamed.

“You really do love me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I love you so much. I want to court you and mate with you. I want to see you round with my pups.” Steve replied and laid down pulling Eddie with him. “I want us to smell like one another so there’s no mistaking who we belong to.”

“How long have you had this necklace by the way?” Eddie asked the pendant clutched in his hand.

“Since right after spring break.” He admitted. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he sheepishly said “I told you, I’ve wanted to court you for a long time.”

The two talked a bit more about their insecurities and about Eddie’s past trauma with alphas. When the alpha that hurt him came up again, Steve growled. “Give me a name.” The fire in his eyes would have scared Eddie if it was directed at him. But at the moment, it may have made him a bit slick. He’d never had an alpha want to protect him like this.

“If I tell you, can you promise you won’t do anything crazy?” Eddie asked.

“No.” Steve said. “I promised no lies.” He defended at Eddie’s snort.

“You did, you did. Okay, just promise you’ll be careful.” Steve agreed to that and motioned for Eddie to continue. “It was Tommy Hagan my first senior year.” He admitted. The scent of burning woods filled the his nostrils.

“When?” Steve growled. Had he still been friends with Tommy?

“We started courting in August. The heat we spent together was in November.”

“You were the omega he couldn’t shut up about?” Steve asked. Eddie shrugged.

“I guess. Weird that he couldn’t shut up about me when he cheated on me with Carol.” Eddie said meekly. The faint blood orange Eddie was finally emitting was turning sour and he was trying to pump out calming omega pheromones to calm Steve, but it didn’t seem to be working well due to the dull nature of it.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve said as he willed himself to calm down. “It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled Eddie to his feet.

“What is important is getting you checked out by a doctor. Let’s let Wayne know and we can go okay?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded and the two got dressed with some difficulty since they refused to let go of each other. Steve wore his yellow sweater so it would smell like him again and Eddie pulled on his favorite band tee. On their way out of the trailer they wrote a note for Wayne and Steve walked Eddie to the passenger side. He opened the door and kept a firm hand in Eddie’s until he was seated. Eddie watched on amused as Steve practically sprinted around the car so they could spend the least amount apart as possible.

~ ~~

At the hospital, the Doctor that saw him last time was able to see him again. “Eddie, this one could have killed you if your alpha hadn’t come when he did. To help you get back on your feet it’ll be good for the two of you to spend the next 48 to 72 hours together. Now for cases like yours we have a new type of medication that can stop rejection sickness from getting worse once it starts. I’m giving you a prescription for that. And I want you to go back to taking the preventive ones for a while.” He looked between the two men knowingly. “I’d say until you’ve mated. After that, you should be okay to stop them. But, keep the emergency one on you at all times. It could be the difference between life and death.” He said before leaving them with a nurse. She gave Eddie some fluids in an IV that were supposed to help him return to normal and then they were on their way.

“So, what now?” Eddie asked. Steve took his hand again.

“Let me take you out on the town? Then we can go back to the trailer and cuddle?” He asked. Eddie blushed and his blood orange scent finally filled the car in full force.

"I'd like that."

@v3lv3tf0x @lexirosewrites Final part!

That's a wrap on this one. But I do have plans to write some Robin POV and what Steve does the next time he sees Tommy.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (23)

part 23 of ?? | 479 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It’s touch and go for a long time, starting with Steve throwing his parents’ names around in the Emergency Room to get them to treat Eddie at all.

23.

It’s touch and go for a long time, starting with Steve throwing his parents’ names around in the Emergency Room to get them to treat Eddie at all. He sticks close after that, watching through a window when he’s not allowed in the operating room—which is already a lot more than even family members usually get. Every hour on the hour he checks in with Dustin over the walkie to give him an update. 

Every half hour, Lucas chimes in on the same channel with an update about Max. Those are the times Steve most wants to break, but he can’t. 

He keeps Eddie in sight all the way to a private room, glaring fit to kill at the police officer who handcuffs both pale, unmoving wrists to each side of the bed. 

No sleep until Eddie wakes up, and no distractions. Steve moves carefully whenever the nurses are looking because he doesn’t want to draw attention to his own bites and risk being whisked away. He’s afraid to even take his eyes off Eddie for a moment, half convinced that if he blinks for too long the guy might disappear. The faint rise and fall of Eddie’s chest, more bandages visible than skin, and occasional flutter of his eyelashes are comforting signs of life.

His concentration is so blinding that he nearly jumps out of his skin when a rough hand lands on his shoulder. “You the Harrington kid that saved my boy?”

Steve looks up into the creased and tired face of Wayne Munson and can only gape at him. 

“You’re the spitting goddamn image of Richard, so I’d guess so,” Wayne mutters into the lack of a response. The way he says it, Steve expects to get hauled up and shoved out of the room, because his dad is an asshole.

But Wayne squeezes his shoulder and drops into the uncomfortable chair next to him, eyes on Eddie. 

“Uh,” Steve finally manages, glancing at the boy lying prone in the hospital bed. “Sorry about the cuffs, they wouldn’t. . . . They didn’t listen to me about that. About him being innocent, I mean.”

“You did what you could,” Wayne says, eyes never leaving his nephew. (And Steve finally feels like he can relax a tiny bit, now that he’s not the only one on sentry duty.) “Shit, kid, I know this town. I know how these things go. They would’ve just let him die.”

“Steve,” Steve offers, because he doesn’t feel like a kid. He feels like he’s a million years old and surrounded by strangers he happened to have some hand in saving, still haunted by the girl he hadn’t. 

He passes out shortly after, and doesn’t regain consciousness until long after Wayne gets his jacket unzipped and blood-soaked shirt hiked up to angrily show the hospital staff and read them the riot act for not noticing.

[junk-and-disorderly]

He Ain’t Heavy - 1981//15

They settled into a new normal.

Eddie went to school (with much protesting), and Wayne worked the third shift at the plant. It was a hard adjustment at first, but the pay bump certainly made things easier. Besides, he was never one for sleeping anyways. The change made it so he could be there to wake his nephew up, drag his ass to school, attend different CPS appointments, and if he was lucky, catch a few winks before picking Eddie up.

All in all, it made one thing certain: he’d be able to be there when Eddie needed him and keep food on the table.

At least he could say Eddie was coming into his own, like a stubborn root poking through a crack in the concrete. Not blossoming, but fighting tooth and nail to be there all the same. The kid seemed to split his time either holed up in his room, or holed up at the houses of some other misfits from school. It was good to see him around kids his own age, and they didn’t seem like bad apples either. Different, maybe, but not bad (Wayne remembered how he was at that age).

Despite their misaligned schedules, Eddie never seemed to stray far from the trailer on Wayne’s nights off. They found themselves on the porch on one of those rare evenings, soaking in the sounds of the trailer park in the chilly spring air. It was hardly ever quiet with life happening all around them. There was a soft melody drifting in from someone’s radio, dogs barking from somewhere off in the distance, a mother’s harried call for dinner, a child’s laugh.

Eddie hummed idly to himself, feet propped up on a spare lawn chair as he plucked the strings of his old guitar. It was an aimless sort of play, simply giving his restless fingers something to do versus plucking out a particular tune. They’d finally put in enough elbow grease to fix the black acoustic. She would never be without her bumps and bruises, but she was cherished all the same.

Wayne didn’t pay him much mind--his thoughts were elsewhere. It wasn’t often, but there were times when the past would reach up, sink its claws in, and unearth old memories. When those black moods would roll in, he felt every bit the sentimental old man he’d become.

Sometimes it was as simple as finding his old dog tags, plastic casings yellowed with age, that was enough to darken his thoughts. They reminded him of his father, how he died for his country not in a day, but little by little over the years. Other memories haunted him, too. Flashes of forgotten young men in the jungle, fighting a war that wasn’t theirs, uniforms forgotten in the dark as they cried for their mothers. Most days they were just a memento of years gone by, forgotten until the next spring cleaning.

Anniversaries and milestones didn’t bother him so much--he expected the despair to creep in on those sanctioned days. It was those little niggling thoughts that kept him up that were harder to contend with. Usually he’d shake it off best he could, but nights like tonight?

A glass of whiskey, a smoke, and time with his thoughts were the only reprieve.

“I won’t be much company tonight, I’m afraid.” Wayne puffed on his cigarette, eyes trained on the horizon. Dusk was falling, as were the temperatures.

“Not sure what you’re on about, I’m just here to play guitar, man.” Eddie wiggled his fingers as if to emphasize his point. The grin on his face though, gave away the fact he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wayne snorted, shaking his head. “If you want to keep an old man company, that’s your business.”

“Pshh. You’re not old, Wayne. You’re just entering your silver fox era. I’ve seen Ms. McCluskey eyeballing you--better be careful, old girl might hunt you down with her walker.”

He let out a startled laugh, which of course, earned him a toothy smile in response. Kid always had some smart-assed comment ready to go. Eddie was definitely a teenager, and his brain-to-mouth filter hadn’t developed yet. In truth, he wasn’t sure it was ever going to develop, and he would be stuck with a mouthy teenager who was too smart for his own good.

There were worse things in life.

Only problem about being clever is that it also attracted trouble, and Wayne knew a thing or two about trouble. Didn’t help that Eddie shared a name with it, either.

He managed to split his memories of his brother into two neat categories: before Eddie and after Eddie. Unfortunately, what he felt about said memories weren’t as cut and dry. There was just as much love wrapped up in his pain and the two were indistinguishable at this point.

That was just how things were for Munsons, though. Shit was never easy.

His thoughts drifted back to a one bedroom house in Kentucky that was often frigid in the winters, boiling in the summers, and claustrophobic year round: his childhood home. The bedroom was reserved for his parents, but also doubled as a nursery (and on one occasion a mausoleum for a baby girl. He’d never know who Wanita could have been). The pull out couch was reserved for him and Edward--his brother swore up and down that the springs in the mattress had caused his chronic back-problems. Somehow Wayne turned out fine.

“Whatcha readin’ there?” Wayne asked around a mouthful of pins. He knew keeping the sewing needles in his mouth was a bad habit, but swallowing them seemed a kinder alternative than accidentally dropping one. Edward slept on the pullout too; he’d rather not chance the boy getting stuck with one.

 The little boy across from him gave a dramatic sigh. “See Spot Run. At least, I’m trying. It’s boring as fuck.”

The pins were removed from his mouth solely so he could scold his brother. “Edward Munson, do not say ‘fuck’.” He stuck them in the pants he was mending--he could tell the kid was in the mood to talk.   

“You and dad say it all the time!” He hissed back, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s different--and keep it down, mom is trying to sleep.” The needle punched through the denim with familiar ease. He’d worn these pants when he was Edward’s age, and they were beginning to show their years. Hopefully the patch would help keep them long enough until he could grow into Wayne’s clothes. The patch he was sewing would at least add a little extra material--the denim was practically soft with how thin it had become.

“How?!” He sat up quickly, full on pouting with his arms crossed.

 “I’m older than you, that’s why.” Wayne tried to bite back a smile--it was hard to take the little boy seriously sometimes. Still, he shushed him again, “Seriously though, keep it down. Mom needs her rest--she had a bad spell.”

 The answer, as Wayne predicted, was unsatisfactory. “Not by that much…You’re…” He trailed up, bringing his fingers up to count. “You’re…thirteen, I’m six so that means…”

 This time, he didn’t try to hold his grin. Didn’t help him either though--kid had to learn.

 “Seven! Seven years older.” He returned Wayne’s toothy grin with his own gap toothed smile. His cheer didn’t last though. It never did. “Why is mom always sleeping?”  

“She’s really sick.” He tried to smile, but he knew it was hollow. Mom was sick--that’s the only explanation he ever got. Never why, or with what, just ‘mommy needs her rest’. Whatever it was, it made her sad--so sad she cried at night, and hardly left her room.

 “Is she gonna die?” Edward’s voice was small.

Wayne reached across, and pulled his brother into a tight hug. “Mom isn’t going to die. Don’t say shit like that.” He maneuvered the six year old into his lap, “Besides, who’d make you breakfast in the morning?”

 Edward pulled back, brow pinched in confusion. “But you do that.”

 He swallowed nervously. Their mom was never awake by the time they needed to walk to school, but he wanted to…wanted to do something to make it seem like she was more involved in their lives. He’d gotten her tired smiles growing up, and her bell-like laugh. His brother had gotten none of that, and he knew how important family was, and…

 “No. Mom does that. I just help her out sometimes.” It was a weak response, and they both knew it.

 That only seemed to confuse the younger boy more, and he opened his mouth to argue.

  “Hey, why don’t you read me your stupid book, huh? Mending your pants is a snooze-fest. At least this way we can be bored together.”

 A distraction always worked. Soon, Edward was all smiles again, and tucked his head into his brother's shoulder with the dog-eared book propped up on his knees. He cleared his throat, whispering the title with awe, like he was about to start an epic story. “See Spot Run.”

They ended up waking their mother up with their laughter, but it was worth it.

Those memories were bittersweet now, tinged with regret and the thoughts of what could have been. He didn’t know when it started, the rift between him and Edward. Perhaps it was always there, just two boys destined to mirror one another in a pantomime of polarity. Hindsight always bore the gift of clarity.

The years went by and Wayne slipped away, little by little. It started with the odd jobs that became real jobs that kept him out too late, but the family wallet a little thicker. Then as he grew older, his seat in the classroom remained vacant, and somewhere in the shuffle his brother had gotten lost.

By the time Wayne was seventeen, the hubris of youth had taken root. The money he was making was good enough to buy his own set of wheels, and if he played his cards right, his ticket to freedom. He thought he was grown, and determined to put that little one bedroom house in his rearview mirror. No more playing parent, no more responsibility--just his own money and his own life.

Looking back, he understood that impulse to run, but he’d never regretted anything more in his life. Had he just been present and maybe a little less focused on girls and partying, he would have been a better role model.

A better brother.

They pulled up to the house, windows dark and shuttered. 

“You know, nobody’s home.” The words were pressed into his date’s cheek, the smell of her flowery perfume clouding his thoughts. Couldn’t remember her name for the life of him, but he didn’t need to. She wanted him, and he wanted her--what more did he need to know?

She giggled, pushing him away. “I can’t imagine what we’d get up to.” There was a smile hidden behind her hand, batting her long eyelashes at him.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” He grinned back at her--he’d been told his smile was charming. He was already turning off the ignition, and reaching across the console for another kiss.

The lights in the house flipped on.  

“I thought you said nobody would be home.” The honeyed tone was gone, replaced with wide eyes and trepidation.

  “There shouldn’t be.” His dad worked the night shift, and fuck knows where his mom was these days. Which only could only mean…

 He dropped his head against the steering wheel. “Shit. My kid brother.”

 Mirabelle--that was her name--had started to button up her blouse self-consciously. “O-Oh. Well. Maybe…Maybe we should call it a night then?”

 Wayne Munson was not about to be cock-blocked by a shitty ten year old. He covered her hand with his own, before reaching up and pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “We can do that, if you want.” He wet his lips, eyes flicking down to meet hers. Do you want that?”

 She swallowed, and locked eyes with him, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “No.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, pulling back with a smile. She returned it, and he ran a thumb along her lower lip. “Then keep that smile for me, sweetheart. I’ll be just a minute.”

He was a man on a mission now, leaving the car behind.

 Edward was opening the screen door, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the headlights. “Wayne? You were supposed to be home to cook me dinner…”

 Wayne knelt down in front of him, “I know--Listen, I have a pretty lady who wants to take a tour of the house. Think you can make yourself scarce for a bit?”

 Edward’s eyes darkened, “No! You’re never here anymore, and I’m not going to sit outside while you like, kiss or whatever!” His voice carried in the night air, and Wayne quickly threw a hand over his mouth to shush him.

 “This is so uncool, what the fuck, Edward?” He hissed back, narrowing his eyes.

 The kid threw his glare right back at him, and licked his palm.

Wayne’s hand flew back like he’d been burned. “Fine, I’ll make you some fucking dinner, Jesus Christ.” He stomped away from him, shoving his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket.

 He threw the car door open, and slammed it shut just as hard. “Change of plans. Brat still needs to be babysat, apparently.” He tried popping his neck from side to side, avoiding the small shadow sitting expectantly on the front porch steps.  

“Oh.” She gave a small frown, “Well that’s…sweet of you.” A new smile took residence on her face, but it wasn’t a flirtatious one: it was pitying. Yep, he was definitely not getting laid tonight, or ever, not by Mirabelle at least.  

“Yeah, that’s me, big ol’ sweetheart.” It came out flat, and he turned the key in the ignition, engine roaring to life. “Let’s get you home.”

Turns out his brother had learned a lot more from Wayne than he thought. Kids were spongey--they soaked up everything whether you wanted them to or not. It became less about the lessons on how to tie his shoes and make his own meals, and more about the unspoken rules of how to be a man and an adult. Between their father and Wayne’s absenteeism, Edward cobbled together how to sneak into bars, pick up chicks, and how to finish his own fights. By the time Edward’s own teenage years rolled around, he was on a first name basis with every authority figure in a five mile radius.

It’s funny how the more things changed, the more they remained the same: Wayne was still taking care of a kid that wasn’t his with one bedroom between the two (no little house in Kentucky this time, though).

Somehow he’d even managed to sleep on a pull out couch again.

This time though, things would be different. He wouldn’t let Eddie become another Munson fuckup.

Wayne cleared his throat, trying to grab his nephew’s attention. “Since you’ve got so much time on your hands, why don’t you play us some Johnny Cash, hm?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Always the Man in Black.” Despite his grousing, it came with a playful smile. Before long the discordantly cheerful twang of ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ became the backdrop of Wayne’s musings.

He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile into his whiskey, though it was a sad and bitter one. Eddie had no idea how appropriate his song choice had been.

This time, he knew exactly what was to blame for his maudlin thoughts: a phone call.

 ‘Would you like to collect this call?’ The tinny voice crackled in his ears--he didn’t need to be told who was on the line; he already knew.

  Against his better judgment, he accepted the call.

 “Hey.”

 “How’d you get this number?”

 There was a resigned laugh on the other end. “Haven’t changed a bit…Kinda hopin’ you had.” A pause, “Social worker. You’re a hard man to find, Wayne.”

 Wayne hummed in understanding--it hard to get a guardianship without the parents involved somehow. “I like my solitude.” It was also intentional, but he didn’t feel the need to point that out.

 It had been years since he’d heard his brother’s voice, but he recognized it all the same. There were cracks in it, like asphalt on a hot summer day, tinged with the boyishness of a forgotten childhood. Bikes and skinned knees. It was like coming home to a vacant house.

 It hurt.  

“What do you want, Edward?” It came out softer than he’d wanted, but Wayne always had a soft spot for his little brother.  

“A lot of things.” A swallow, “Drugs. Money. Freedom. Forgiveness.” There was a longer pause, “My brother.”

 He noted the order of things and the glaring hole in the list. “But not your kid, huh?”  

“Junior’s better off without me.”

 He wasn’t about to fight him on that, not when it was true.  

“I was hopin’ he’d go to you, even if you did do a shit job with me. But you ain’t gotta raise him, just keep him clothed and fed.”

Wayne bit his tongue--he didn’t have to raise his kid-brother either, but he did. He still fucking did, because that’s just what you do.

But he didn’t have to rise to the bait, no matter how true it may have been.

“Eddie.” He cleared his throat, “He goes by Eddie. Not Edward. Not junior.”

“That so? Guess he didn’t want to be like his old man.”

 God, he hoped not. He was doing everything in his power to keep Eddie from that.

“Doesn’t matter, not why I called. Just…wanted to say thanks. For keepin’ my boy. You keep him in line, and don’t let him give you no lip.”

He thought back to their first days together--him and Eddie. Carefully orbiting one another, watching one another like fighters in the ring. Who’d take the first punch?

 In the end, neither of them had: it was a stupid coffee cup. Eddie had it in his hands, touches always feather light, like he was afraid he’d break it. Ironically, it was that carefulness that led to a broken mug on their floor. It was an accident--had slipped out of Eddie’s soapy grip. Just a shitty gas station mug. Nothing memorable.

 Nothing like the horror on his nephew’s face.

 “Wayne, it was an accident, you gotta believe me--you gotta---” His hands were fisted in his shirt, frozen, right before they flew to retrieve the broken ceramic pieces. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry--” Red dotted the shards as he tried to pick them up.

 Instincts and adrenaline took over, and he was across the room in seconds, grasping Eddie’s hands within his own. “You’re okay, Eddie.”

 The touch seemed to ground him, but his hands still shook. “I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne.”  

“I care a lot more about you gettin’ hurt than a mug I didn’t even like.” He lifted the boy to his feet, gesturing to the bathroom. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

 It was for that reason alone, Wayne felt himself grit out, “Don’t call back” before slamming the phone down on the receiver.

  He never did tell Eddie about the call. He wanted his nephew to feel safe where he was without the specter of his father lingering over them both.

A familiar tune tugged him back into consciousness and out of the recesses of his memory. He lifted his head up, “Since when did you learn to play the Hollies?”

Eddie’s playing halted as he shrugged his shoulders. “Just kinda picked it up. No biggie.” He flexed his fingers a moment--they were red from the cold. He insisted on wearing a pair of old gloves that he’d clipped the tips off of--said it was the closest thing to a compromise on keeping his hands warm, but still being able to pluck at the strings.

Wayne shook his head with a smile, running his thumbs along the mug in his hands. It was a replacement for the one he’d broken though much improved: the glaringly cheerful text of ‘WELCOME TO HAWKINS’ had been crossed out with a sloppy scrawl ‘WELCOME TO BUMFUCK NOWHERE’. He’d never felt particularly welcome in Hawkins to begin with.

“What about Dolly Parton? You pick any of her stuff up?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, “I know not to take her man, if that’s what you mean.” Sure enough, ‘He Ain't Heavy’ melted into the heartbroken classic of ‘Jolene’.

Wayne couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at that--kid was clever.

Eddie’s finger slipped, causing a screech of discordant strings.

Wayne whipped his head over at him, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken ‘you good?’. His nephew was talented,  well on his way to being skilled, but it wasn’t normal for him to flub like that.

Eddie shrugged, ‘what can you do?’. He was back to playing, but his hands trembled and his smile was plastic. Then the music abruptly stopped. “Not that I’d…y’know, steal her man. I’m not...‘that way’. Obviously.”

That gave Wayne pause. “Didn’t think you were.” He cocked an eyebrow, watching his nephew fidget in his seat. Odd that he felt the need to clarify in the first place--was this another thing his brother hammered into him?

“Do…you remember when I first came here?” The music had stopped completely, Eddie resting his hands over the acoustic. Nervous fingers tapped a quiet rhythm along her black frame. “How I had that buzzcut?” As if on cue, he moved a hand to his hair. A year had prompted a lot of growth--the dark curls hovered just above his shoulders.

“Made your ears look like Dumbo, yep.” Wayne nodded along, setting the empty mug down on the porch (and a safe distance away from the two of them--he didn’t want a third replacement).

Eddie gave a bark of startled laughter, “I know, right? It was so bad.” The easy smile faded as quickly as it came. “It wasn’t my choice. My old man…”

Just the mere mention of him caused his shoulders to slump and his to dim. Eddie never called him ‘dad’--he hadn’t earned that title, in Wayne’s eyes.

“He cut it saying it would make me look less like a fag.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair again self-consciously.

An uncharacteristic lull fell between the two of them. There’s something big here, and he has a creeping suspicion he’s missed something important. The longer he takes to reply though, the more heavily Eddie’s gaze weighs on him.

He’d figure out where this piece of the puzzle went later. “My brother is a goddamn idiot. Keep the hair, kid.” To emphasize his point, he reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Eddie squawked at that, playfully shoving him away, but there was still a small unhappy twist to his expression.

It was quiet, a reflexive comment and less like actual conversation, but Wayne heard it all the same: “A goddamn perceptive idiot.” Did he hear that right? He knitted his brows together, “Come again, kid?”

“Just saying he didn’t like me looking like David Bowie or some shit. Don’t worry about it.” He gave a shrug, but his eyes were too sharp, too wary to sell the air of nonchalance he was going for.

“That a rock star you like or somethin’?”

A quiet laugh. “Something like that.” Another pause, “That’s…not going to be a problem, is it? Liking David Bowie or Robert Halford?”

“Considering I have no idea who those folks are? Not one bit. Just don’t hog the bathroom and we’re good.”

“I’ll leave you enough time to do your hair in the morning, scouts honor.” He batted his eyes for effect, which caused Eddie to laugh at his own antics. “Can’t have you looking all scruffy for McCluskey, after all.”

Whatever door of opportunity had opened had promptly hit his ass on his way out, because Eddie had already moved on. “I don’t know how you two can be related. You’re nothing like him.”

Now if that wasn’t the biggest kick in the teeth? “I wouldn’t say that. We both got our daddy’s temper. Mine just got tempered, and his didn’t.”

Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was contemplative and heavy with bad memories.

“Sometimes I think I hate him.” Eddie took a shuddering breath, mouth set in firm line.

Wayne said nothing--couldn’t bring himself to. In his heart of hearts, he knew he did too.

“Is it weird if I love him too?” He had Eddie’s full attention now, dark eyes weighing heavily on him.

In truth, Wayne didn’t have the answers. He was doing good to put one foot in front of the other, every day. He didn’t know how to even begin untangling the massive ball of hurt knotted in his chest, much less help someone else with theirs.

Yet here they were. Two people haunted by the same person, this shared trauma that bonded them together. He wanted more for Eddie than whatever this was.

It was as good a time as any to start the healing process. So Wayne took a deep breath, buying himself a few crucial seconds before he spoke, “Sometimes love is so wrapped up with the hurt we can’t tell the difference.”

He pointed the stub of his cigarette at Eddie, “Let me be clear about this though: my brother is an asshole.”

The declaration made Eddie’s eyes as round as saucers, but Wayne kept going. He had more to say, and he was going to make it count.

They hadn’t talked about it, what Eddie’s life was like before. Hadn’t been a real reason to, in Wayne’s mind. He was able to pick up enough--something would happen, and he would adjust accordingly. The social workers had told him not to pry and not to push, but maybe it would do the boy some good to talk. If not to him, at least to someone.

Maybe they could start here.

Eddie had a white knuckle grip on the neck of his guitar, stone still for the first time in his life.

“You got the Munson gene, but you ain’t your daddy. You ain't me either, thank God. You go be yourself, Eddie.”

“...I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one sitting, Wayne.” His lips were bitten into the ghost of a smile, his voice tinged with humor and emotion.

Of course that’s what he’d take away from it. Wayne snorted, shaking his head with terrible fondness. “It’s the first time I’ve been able to get a word in.”

“Hey, someone has to carry the conversation.”

He chuckled to himself, “More like a monologue.”

Eddie almost threw himself out of the chair, clutching at his heart dramatically. “You wound me, good sir!” He hopped up to his feet with a newfound energy. “Want me to take your cup to the kitchen?”

He didn’t wait for Wayne’s response before dipping down and snatching it. He quickly wrinkled his face, “...Were you drinking whiskey out of a coffee cup?”

Wayne shrugged. “A cup’s a cup.”

“And I’m the freak.” Eddie snorted, shaking his head fondly. “Want me to grab anything else?”

“I’m good. When you come back, let me hear what you’ve been workin’ on.” Call him sentimental, but he wanted to keep the moment as long as he could. Kids grow up so fast.

His jaw dropped, “You want to hear a Scorpion’s song? You hear that shit all the time though.”

“S’not so bad at this volume.”

“If you can’t feel it in your teeth, you aren’t doing the music justice.” Eddie shuffled in the doorway a moment, “Besides, it’d sound better on an electric. Not that there’s anything wrong with my girl, here.” He motioned to the guitar now strapped along his back.

“That so?” Wayne cocked an eyebrow up at him. It certainly hadn’t stopped him from playing all hours of the night before. “Sounds just fine to me.”

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Prepare for the most tame concert ever.” There was pure glee in his voice as he skittered away back into the trailer with newfound enthusiasm.

The future was a fragile, tentative thing, but he wanted one for Eddie. That’s all he ever wanted for his family, and if it took a few extra shifts, and some sleepless nights to ensure that? He’d do it again and again.

The rickety lawn chair scraped across the porch as Eddie scooted in closer. “You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, kid.”

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two | Three (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One

So that Suicide Squad Isekai anime huh (it's great, I love it actually)

Anyway, I'll be playing fast and loose with Batman canon so all the batkids can be around at the same time have fun with that cuz I did (also forgive me if anyone is a little too OOC; i'm here for a good time not a long time), and the little flashback bit will continue in the next parts as Steve meets more batkids ^_^

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't UwU

----

Harley drops him off at Wayne Manor just after ten in the morning. She tugs a window open, carries him inside, kisses him on the forehead, and promises to pick him up in a week before climbing back out. Steve watches her until she's past the gate, clutching a Green Lantern plush his mother insisted he carry around because it'll annoy his Uncle Bruce.

Steve glances down at the plush, wishing his mother didn't have to go off on a mission when she'd just gotten out of Arkham two months ago. His wishes won't actually change anything, though, so he might as well make the best of his week with Uncle Bruce.

He turns on his heel, taking in the plain bedroom that will probably become his for the next few days. He holds the Green Lantern plush close and marches to the door, stepping out into the hall and choosing a random direction to walk in.

According to his mother, Wayne Manor can have anywhere between two and ten people staying in it at one time. She told him that Dick would be the most welcoming, if not the most confused, the girls would be the most fun, and Damien would be the most guarded, likely to consider him a threat for his entire stay.

It's just his luck that the first person he runs into is Damien. The other boy drops from the ceiling, blade of his sword glinting in the light as it comes to a stop just against Steve's neck. Steve freezes, glancing down at the sharp edge as Damien says, "Think very carefully before answering. Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

Steve looks away from the sword, tilting his head slightly as he shrugs. "I'm Steve. I'm staying here for a week," he says.

Damien's eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, adjusting his arms so the katana doesn't move. "Says who? Does Father know you're here? Are you a spy sent by my mother?"

"Says my mom. Maybe. No," Steve replies.

A few more seconds pass before Damien hums. "Who's your mother?"

"Harley."

"Quinn?"

"Is there another?"

Slowly, Damien lowers the sword. "I suppose Quinn is somewhat reformed. How old are you?" he asks.

"Almost six."

"So, you're five," Damien says, nodding once. He sheathes his sword, apparently deciding Steve is no threat to him. "That makes me older than you, so you have to do what I say. Consider me your big brother for the week."

"Are you gonna make me hurt myself?"

"No."

"Mom said you wouldn't like me."

"Father said I should try being more trusting and welcoming. You are small and untrained, like a puppy. I could dismember you before you hurt me, which makes you ideal for practicing," Damien explains. He's quiet for a few seconds before getting a slight smirk. "Besides, it will greatly annoy my brothers if you obviously prefer me over them."

"I'm great at pretending as long as we can do fun stuff, too."

"Then we have a deal. You will act like I'm your favorite, and I will make sure you have fun."

Steve considers this, decides Damien is well on his way to actually being Steve's favorite, and steps closer. "Mom said Alfred makes the best cookies. Can we have some?"

"Yes," Damien says, "If you're hungry, then it's my responsibility to feed you as your big brother."

He offers his hand, seeming unsure when Steve takes it, like he isn't used to this kind of contact. Still, he doesn't pull away; he just hesitantly squeezes Steve's hand before leading him down the hall.

----

Not two days ago, Steve was telling himself he'd never set foot in Hawkins High School. Now, after getting the run down on the Upside Down (and holy shit did this place suddenly get a thousand times more interesting), Steve decides he'll just have to brave the brick walls to get Eddie out.

He leans forward on his motorcycle, arms resting on the handlebars as he looks up at the building. There's an American flag waving in the wind, faded paint on the outside, and security so lax it'd be suspicious in Gotham. Steve briefly considers leaving his helmet on, but he settles for placing it on the seat once he's off the motorcycle.

Walking into the school is easy. He doesn't even get stopped by the receptionist at the front desk. She just waves him in without looking up from her book. So, yeah, getting in is easy; figuring out where Eddie is might be a little harder.

He wanders the halls and stops the first student he sees, a girl with short brown hair carrying an unwieldy instrument case in her arms. Steve places his hands on the case and gently pushes down, flashing a grin when he can finally see her face. "Uh, can I help you?" she asks, her tone implying she very much does not want to help him.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone," Steve says.

Her nose wrinkles slightly in disgust. "Listen, dingus, if this is some kind of pick-up line dare, save it," she says, rolling her eyes. She takes a step back and Steve follows.

"Nope, definitely not," he says, "You're not my type, sorry."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, unless you're not a girl...," he says, voice trailing off and eyebrow raising as he watches her understand his meaning.

She blinks, her shoulders rising some. She glances around, confirms the hallway is still empty, and relaxes. "Word of advice," she says, "don't just say that shit where anyone can hear. People aren't exactly nice about it around here."

Steve flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself, but thanks. Anyway, still looking for someone."

"Oh, right, uh, what's their name?"

"Eddie Munson. Know him?"

She blinks again, her eyebrows shooting up in slight disbelief. "Yeah, I know him. Whatcha need him for? He doesn't usually sell until after school."

Oh. Steve hums softly, filing away that tidbit of information for later. "Not here to buy. I'm here to take him somewhere fun," he says.

A few seconds pass in which the girl looks at Steve, drops her gaze to the instrument case between them, and then glances around the empty hall. "Well, shit, man, I wanna go somewhere fun, too."

Steve considers her for a moment, trying to figure out the logistics of fitting her and Eddie on his bike. Well, he can just have her sit on the handlebars or something. "Okay, but the instrument won't fit," he tells her.

The grin he gets in return tells him that won't be a problem. "Name's Robin, by the way."

This has to be fate, right?

"Steve. Nice to meetcha, Robin."

Robin's grin gets even wider, and Steve knows they'll be great friends.

---

"Eddie usually sits in a corner," Robin says, standing at the edge of the cafeteria with Steve. It's teeming with life, and Steve hears snippets of conversations that blur into one dull roar that settles over the space. It reminds him of bars in Gotham even more than the actual bars he's visited here in Hawkins.

He can't see into the corners from here, but that doesn't bother him. "Wait here," he says, flashing a grin at Robin before walking to a mostly empty table. He climbs onto it, reaches into one of his jacket's inner pockets, and pulls out an air horn.

Steve waits long enough to see Robin cover her ears before raising the horn in the air and pressing down. It blares through the room, drowning out conversations and forcing people at the surrounding tables to cover their ears. A few more seconds pass before Steve lets up on the horn, grinning widely at the sea of eyes turned towards him.

"I'm looking for Eddie Munson," he says, twirling the air horn in the palm of his hand.

Instead of a verbal answer, he watches as the eyes turn from him to a corner across the room. A few people even duck close to their tables to clear Steve's line of sight, allowing him to see a confused Eddie sitting with his friends.

Steve grins, pockets the air horn, and starts making his way across the cafeteria. He walks on tables, jumps between them, and narrowly avoids stepping on more than one tray along the way. By the time he reaches Eddie's table, most of the students have gone back to their lunches and conversations.

"How's it going, Eds?" Steve asks, crouching in front of Eddie with a grin. He glances at the other boys by him, notes the identical Hellfire Club shirts, and nods in acknowledgement.

"Better now," Eddie says, his startled blink telling Steve he definitely didn't mean to say that out loud.

Steve somehow grins wider. "Wanna make like a banana and split? I've got somewhere fun in mind," he says, popping up from his crouch before hopping off the table and into the narrow space between Eddie's chair and his friend's.

"Dude, really?" one of his friends asks. "We have a session today."

Eddie looks torn at that realization, halfway standing and stuck like that. "That we do, Gare-bear," he says, defeat bringing his shoulders down.

"In that case, consider this a kidnapping," Steve tells them, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him up. He wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders, winks at his friends, and promises, "I'll have him home before six, though."

Eddie's friends exchange glances, and Steve graciously pretends not to notice the puppy dog eyes Eddie aims at them. After a few seconds, one of them stands up, towering over Steve and outweighing him by a good bit. He clears his throat, glances at the other two, and tries to sound intimidating as he says, "Make it five thirty, and no funny business."

Steve nods and offers a mocking two-finger salute. "Yes, sir," he replies, flashing a grin before taking Eddie's bag from his seat and dragging him to where Robin is waiting.

"So, where are you kidnapping me to?" Eddie asks, managing to stick close to Steve despite having to weave through chairs and tables.

"Nothing special, really. Just an abandoned laboratory in the middle of the woods that has a gateway to another dimension filled with faceless monsters. Oh, and Robin's coming, too. Don't worry, though, I won't let you get hurt. "

He glances over to meet Eddie's wide eyes, something warm curling behind his ribs when Eddie finally smiles and whispers under his breath, "Fucking metal."

-----

Tag List (definitely still room, so let me know if you'd like to be tagged!):

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void, @dotdot-wierdlife

@midwestharpy, @twilitdragoneye, @disrespectedgoatman

@lawrencebshoggoth,

And now, a meme:

[steddiewithachance]

@mojowitchcraft wrote me the sweetest Rockstar Eddie Munson/ Tour-Camera-man Steve fic! Go devour it like I did!!!!

[hellcheerficdatabase]

we made plans (and god laughed)

Author: @hearjesseroar-blog

Rating/Warning: Teen and up audience, referenced ab*se,

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description:

“It’s just a glass,” Eddie says, and Chrissy looks up at him. Her fingers hurt from where she’s digging them into the formica, and Eddie is looking at her with something unreadable etched into his face.

He kind of looks like he’s worried she’s about to follow the glass to the floor, and shatter herself all over his kitchen, too.

Glass glitters on the linoleum floor of Eddie Munson’s kitchen, and Chrissy Cunningham is shaking out of her skin.

Tags: Alternate universe- everyone lives/nobody dies, Chrissy needs a hug, she needs a lot of hugs, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, good parent Wayne, Eddie is a sweetie, Chrissy POV, one-shot, status: completed