#eddie munson as kas the bloody handed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jewishrat420 · 1 year

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come. Stay.

Kill.

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

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

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

Eddie wants to laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Looks like you need some help, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all laugh at his misery and walk away.

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie pops her head like a balloon and moves on.

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

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

It’s disgusting.

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles to himself.

Showtime.

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

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

Not for long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s their turn, now.

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie?”

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

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

“Eddie, do you…do you remember us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Run.”

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

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

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

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

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magicalmysteries777 · 22 days

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The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Epilogue.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn’t moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he’s figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 10 of 10.

Chapter WC: 5.6k.

CW: Swearing.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

July 14th, 1987 .

“My, oh my, Mr. Harrington - thou dost look ravishing on this fine evening.”

Steve smirked and adjusted his tie. “Mr. Munson, you flatter me.”

“One’s wit and charm knows nay bounds.”

“Eds. Voice.”

Eddie let out a small chuckle as he made his way over to the car door being held open by Steve. “Sorry. You know I go all medieval when I’m nervous.”

"Aw, you’re nervous,” Steve teased.

Eddie fastened his seatbelt and picked anxiously at the skin around his fingernails while Steve got settled in the driver’s seat.

“Would it help calm your nerves if I told you I had this?” asked Steve, reaching into the backseat to reveal a walkie-talkie with a large grin plastered across his face.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, Dustin’s finally starting to stand up for himself a lot more but I highly doubt he’s going to be able to come to the rescue when half of the people at Enzos realise they’re dining with the town’s murderer.”

“It isn’t Dustin on the other end of this and you’re not a murderer.”

“Yeah, well they still think I am, don’t they?” Eddie answered with a grumble, snatching the walkie out of Steve’s hand and pressing down on the receiver. “Hello?”

“Eddie?”

“Hopper?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Everything okay? Steve only left about half an hour ago, surely they’re not sharpening their pitchforks already.”

“Oh, um, no. Everything’s fine.”

“Alright, kid, enjoy your date. You know where I am if you need me.”

If looks could kill, Steve would’ve died right there in Eddie’s driveway.

“Steve, we can’t do this. Let’s just go inside and watch a movie or something.”

“Yes we can and we’re going to have a great time,” Steve countered.

Eddie ran his hands through his curls and rubbed at his temples. “Are you sure? Because I can think of, like, a million reasons not to go out tonight. Half of the town still wants to see me dead because they think I’m the head of a serial killing cult and the other half that doesn’t probably will once they realise I’m on a date with a guy. Aren’t you nervous? What if your dad finds out?”

“Are you done?” Steve asked, waiting patiently until Eddie nodded. “If anyone says or starts anything, anything at all, then all I have to do is get Hop on the radio and he’ll be down there in a heartbeat. He cleared your name the second he was reinstated as Chief, so the whole town can think what they want but at the end of the day you’re not a criminal in the eyes of the law. As for my dad, I don’t care anymore. I’ve spent too long letting him dictate my life. I love you and I want a life with you. I’m not hiding to make other people happy.”

“I’m definitely a criminal in the eyes of the law. Hopper would know,” Eddie smirked.

“Fine. You’re not a serial killer then,” he answered, chuckling as he took Eddie’s hand in his. “I mean it, Eds. I want this and I don’t care who knows it. Now, would you like to go and get some of the finest lasagne that Hawkins has to offer with me?”

Eddie stared at Steve for a couple of seconds, a soft grin slowly growing on his face. “I would.”

They spent the night talking each other’s ears off and laughing like they were the only two people in the entire restaurant before heading back to Eddie’s to sink a couple of cold beers with Wayne, Elizabeth’s blues records on in the background.

It was the best first date that Steve had ever had.

June 16th, 1988.

Eddie had been running around the house as frantically as a headless chicken all morning.

“Did you iron my robe?” he called from the bathroom which he’d been locked away in for the last thirty minutes.

“For the third time, yes,” answered Steve, the slight roll of his eyes earning a small chuckle from Wayne.

“And do you know where my cap is?”

“It’s on the kitchen counter. Come on, Eds, hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

After another five minutes of twiddling his thumbs and exchanging anxious looks with Wayne, Steve finally heard the lock on the bathroom door click open.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked, presenting himself to Steve and Wayne for a thorough inspection.

“I think you haven’t looked this well-groomed since you were about twelve years old. You feeling okay, kid? Let me check you haven’t got a fever,” Wayne answered, mockingly holding the back of his palm against his nephew’s forehead.

With a quick swipe, Eddie knocked Wayne’s hand away from his face. “Oh, ha-ha. Come on, I’m being serious. Do I look okay?”

“You look very handsome,” Steve answered with a smile. “How much hairspray did you use?”

“I’ll get you a new can.”

“That was full before you got your mits on it!”

Eddie laughed. “You’ve brushed my hair before. You know how hard it is to tame these curls.”

“Fair point. Get dressed, man, we’ve gotta go. Everyone’s waiting for us.”

Steve checked his watch for the final time as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the newly refurbished Hawkins High School.

“Ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. They’re all over there waiting for us, come on,” he instructed, pointing over to the party and Hellfire Club members eagerly awaiting their arrival. “Jonathan’s got the camera.”

The large group had barely had time to exchange greetings or pleasantries before Jonathan had begun ordering them about and putting them into position to get all the photos he had written down on his list.

“I want the individual shots first, then Hellfire, Eddie with the girls, Eddie with the guys, the group shot, and then family. Got it? Okay, good. Dustin, you first.”

It hadn’t taken long for Jonathan to work down his list, reaching the last items with five minutes to spare.

“Mr Munson, do-” Jonathan began.

“How many times do I have to tell you, kid? Call me Wayne.”

“Wayne, would you mind taking the group shot for me? Then I’ll get a couple of you and Eddie.”

They all lined up against the wall, Eddie in the middle and the taller members of the party on either side of him, the younger and shorter of the group crouching in front of them.

“Okay, ready? Smile,” Wayne asked, clicking the shutter on the camera. “Jesus, Eddie, I said smile. What the hell was that? Let me take another one.”

Jonathan took the camera from Wayne and positioned him next to Eddie, instructed them to smile, and snapped a couple of photos of the two together.

“All done. I’ll get these developed for you tomorrow. Maybe the day after depending on how hard Eddie has us all partying tonight,” Jonathan told them, beginning to tuck his camera back into its bag.

“Not so fast,” said Wayne, stopping him in his tracks. “We need one more. These are family photos, aren’t they? Get in here, Steve.”

With the final photo taken, the large group filed into the auditorium to find their seats.

Steve was beaming with admiration for his boyfriend when Mr Higgins called him up onto the stage to receive his diploma, even if Eddie did flip him off right after and run straight into Steve’s arms cackling like a madman.

September 3rd, 1992.

Steve had never seen Jonathan so stressed out.

Between accepting deliveries, taking multiple phone calls with various vendors, and trying to keep Joyce’s motherly tendencies at bay, the poor guy had barely had a chance to eat breakfast or take a sip of water all morning.

“Here, eat this,” instructed Steve, shoving a granola bar into Jonathan’s hands. “You’re white as a ghost. You feeling okay, man?”

“I feel sick,” Jonathan admitted, fumbling with the packaging. “My hands haven’t stopped sweating all morning.”

“Eat that and go outside for some fresh-”

Jonathan’s phone began to ring for the umpteenth time that morning, cutting Steve off mid-sentence. “Hello? Yes, this is Jonathan,” he answered, once again exiting the hotel room to take a nervous lap of the corridors.

Eddie appeared in the doorway, staring down the corridor after Jonathan. “Jesus, he looks more nervous now than he did in the Upside Down.”

“He’s about to marry Nancy Wheeler, what did you expect? Besides, what sort of a time do you call this?” Steve asked sternly, looking at his watch.

“Technically not late,” he answered, the smirk on his face disappearing.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“Could you?” Eddie asked, holding out his bow tie for Steve to fasten.

“I could… But you were late.”

Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please?”

“Joyce!” Steve called loudly, knocking on the wall.

“Steve, no,” Eddie reasoned frantically. “Steve-”

“Joyce, we need your help!” Steve called again, slowly retreating to the doorway to greet her.

As they heard the door to the hotel room next door open and close, Eddie let out a deep sigh, bracing himself for what was about to happen.

“What’s wrong, Steve? Oh, Eddie, sweetheart,” Joyce began, looking him up and down. “You look lovely. Have you been borrowing Steve’s hairspray again? Your curls haven’t looked this tame in years.”

“Yeah, well, it is a special occasion,” Eddie answered, glaring at Steve.

“I need to go check on Jonathan, I think the caterer just called. Could you help Eddie with his bow tie, please?”

“Of course,” Joyce answered, walking over to Eddie with her hand outstretched. “Give it here, son.”

Steve lingered in the doorway for a moment, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face as Eddie stood there awkwardly, trying his hardest not to fidget with the inevitably too-tight bow tie around his neck, each attempt at adjusting it earning a quick swat of his hand from Joyce as though she was trying to get rid of an annoying fly.

It had been a shock for Eddie when Joyce and Hopper inevitably accepted him into their little makeshift family of waif and strays with open arms, something which, many years later, he was still not used to.

He wasn’t a stranger to motherly love by any means. His mother, Elizabeth, had always been hands-on and caring when he was younger, eagerly doting on him from the moment he was brought into the world. She shared all of her kindness and compassion with him, along with a strong sense of justice and a love for music, fundamentally shaping him into the man that he would later become. Then she passed away when Eddie was six, leaving him to also be shaped by the cold, cruel hands of his father, Alan. So, a stranger to motherly love he was not - perhaps more like a distant friend.

“It’s fine, Joyce. Really,” Eddie reasoned, still trying to struggle free from her grip.

Joyce pursed her lips and stared at Eddie for a second, causing him to instantly relax and make his peace with the situation. “I just need to straighten it out, it’s crooked.”

Making his way down the corridor still chuckling to himself, Steve found Jonathan talking on the phone with the uneaten granola bar in his hand. “Jonathan Byers, you give me that phone right now,” Steve ordered, his hand outstretched. “And eat, for fucks sake. You look ill.”

The ceremony went off without a hitch.

With the guests in their seats and the bridesmaids and groomsmen in place, a beautiful piano rendition of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ started to play and Nancy, her arm linked with Ted’s, began to make her way down the aisle. As expected by absolutely everyone, Jonathan began to blubber the second he laid eyes on her.

Once vows were exchanged and rings were on fingers, the newlyweds, along with their friends and family, made their way into the beautifully decorated Reception Hall to begin celebrating.

After a couple of hours of photos, drinks, what could only be described as a small feast, many speeches about the happy couple, and a cake cutting, Nancy and Jonathan were called up to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.

As ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears For Fears began to play, Jonathan wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist and began to sway, mouthing the words silently, unable to take his eyes off of her. Halfway through the song, the guests were called up to join the couple.

Eddie took Steve’s hand in his own and guided him to the dance floor, the two of them swaying along to the music.

“Marry me?” Eddie asked, his voice merely a whisper.

“What?” Steve replied, dumbfounded.

Eddie looked at him softly. “Marry me?”

“You know we can’t get married, you big idiot.”

“Not right now, obviously. But one day, whenever those stupid fuckers at the Supreme Court decided we’re worthy of loving each other, marry me?”

Steve stilled for a moment and looked into Eddie’s big, brown eyes. “Like you even have to ask.”

January 24th, 1997.

Living life on a bus was something that Steve was sure he’d never be able to get used to.

Constantly being within arms reach of at least six other people, not to mention being able to smell them and their bathroom habits, for eight weeks was far too much for him to handle. A couple of days in the Winnebago with the party was enough to make him reconsider the whole ‘six kids and a road trip to Yellowstone’ thing, the bickering alone would have been insufferable, but a week on a tour bus for a two-step plan to surprise his fiancé for their upcoming tenth anniversary was very much doable in Steve’s book.

He’d first surprised Eddie by driving to Ohio and waiting outside the venue for the band to finish playing and come to sign autographs. He’d been in for a bit of a surprise himself when he learned that he too was now semi-famous purely because their relationship had gone public, a large number of the crowd outside asking for his autograph on posters of Eddie’s face while they waited. Damned gossip rags had nicknamed them ‘Steddie’ and plastered a photo of them holding hands on the front page.

The moment the doors opened and the band stepped outside, Steve got lost in the chaos and scrambling of screaming fangirls fighting to get to the front. Resigning further backward down the queue with his Eddie poster gripped tightly in his hands, he waited patiently alongside the calmer members of Corroded Coffin’s fanbase. That was another thing Steve was sure he’d never be able to get used to - fan culture.

Eddie, who had barely looked up from the last poster he’d signed due to the intensity of the line, hovered his pen over the picture of his face. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Steve.”

“Okay, Steve, here you go,” Eddie mumbled, scribbling his signature on the poster. He tucked the pen behind his ear and with an outstretched hand, finally made eye contact with Steve for what Eddie had dubbed ‘the thirty-second rule’ at meet and greets. “Holy shit!”

“Surprise!”

Eddie pulled him close into a long, passionate kiss, earning a few wolf whistles from the remaining crowd, before maneuvering him toward the crew and gesturing for someone to get him a pass. He very politely, although rather quickly, signed the rest of the posters and posed for pictures before telling the crew and his bandmates to make themselves scarce for an hour, dragging Steve onto the bus by the collar of his shirt before he’d even finished his sentence.

A text from Eddie’s manager an hour later revealed that the rest of them had gotten rooms for the night and the two of them could have the bus to themselves. Another text arrived two minutes later telling him not to break anything and to tidy up before morning.

His second day on the bus had been spent listening to an impromptu songwriting session whilst they drove to New York, arriving at the hotel three hours later. Luckily for him, New York had sold out so quickly that management had arranged another concert for the following night, meaning that Steve got a small break from squeezing into a bunk and could get a night’s sleep in an actual bed.

The morning of day three was spent nursing a hangover, thanks to one of Eddie’s after-parties with the entire crew, and trying to get a minute alone with Gareth regarding step two of his plan. When Eddie finally felt brave enough to go outside and attempt his morning cigarette after breakfast, Steve seized his chance and leaned in close enough to Gareth to ensure he wouldn’t be overheard. “The eagle is in the nest. Operation Switch is a go.”

Gareth beamed up at him. “Man, I can’t wait for this. His face is going to be a pic-”

“I can’t do it,” Eddie announced, making his way back to the table looking pale. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

At ten to eight that night, Corroded Coffin congregated backstage to begin their pre-show ritual for good luck before they began to hype themselves up to go onstage.

“Eds, can I borrow you for a second?” Steve asked, gesturing for Eddie to join him over by the spare amp he was sitting on.

“What’s up, handsome?” Eddie asked, adjusting the strap on his guitar.

“I know it’s early but I’ve got an anniversary present for you,” Steve began before Eddie promptly cut him off.

“Early? Shit, Steve, it’s months away. I haven’t even begun to think about what I’m getting you.”

“I know, I know, but I have to give you it while we’re here in New York. It’ll make sense, I promise.”

“Do I get it now?”

“Later.”

“Harrington, you tease,” Eddie answered, eyeing him suspiciously. “Right, I gotta get up there. Wish me luck?”

“It’s gonna be a great show regardless, but good luck,” Steve answered, kissing him on the cheek before pushing him back toward the band.

As always, Corroded Coffin put on a great show. The songs were heavy and the stage effects were hot, quite literally, ever since Eddie decided they needed to include pyrotechnics in the set. Eddie sang his heart out and jumped around the stage during solos, his energy radiating into the crowd as they jumped up and down, screaming his lyrics back at him.

Halfway through the set list, Eddie’s actual surprise arrived backstage with a VIP pass around their neck.

“You ready?” he asked as Eddie began to finish up the song.

“Hell yeah.”

As the last few chords faded out and the crowd began to applaud, Steve stepped out from behind the curtain and made his way to the center of the stage. A perplexed Eddie furrowed his brow at Steve as he stole the microphone from him.

“Let’s give it up for Corroded Coffin everybody,” Steve declared, causing the crowd to erupt again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie asked, completely unaware that Gareth was sneaking off stage behind him.

“Sorry for the interruption, ladies and gentlemen,” Steve began, turning back to the crowd. “But I’ve got a little surprise for Eddie here and for you too. If you could all turn your attention to my left here and give a big round of applause for an honorary member of the band, I’d like to introduce none other than Ronnie Ecker to the stage.”

Eddie’s face looked exactly how Steve had thought it would as Ronnie walked over and hugged him before settling behind the drum kit. A mixture of pure shock, happiness, and overwhelming gratitude.

“You sneaky little shit,” were the only words he could find as he placed an arm around Steve’s waist and guided him back to the side of the stage. “Thank you.”

October 7th, 2014.

The doorbell would not stop ringing.

“You go,” Eddie argued, half asleep.

“You go, it’s your turn,” Steve retorted, pushing Eddie’s sprawled legs off of him and out of the bed.

Eddie let his body go limp as he slid onto the floor, landing with a small thud. “You go.”

Steve sat up and glared at him. “You’re already out of bed.”

“Fine,” Eddie sighed dramatically, picking himself up and walking towards the door.

“Pants,” Steve called after him, throwing a pair of boxers at the back of Eddie’s head before flopping back down onto the pillow with a satisfied grin.

No less than a minute later, Eddie flung himself back onto the bed face down. “It’s for you,” he grumbled.

Steve sat up again and his eyes landed on a rather excited-looking Robin and Vickie stood in the open doorway.

“Jesus, guys, it’s eight o’clock in the morning,” Steve said, his eyes now fixed on the alarm clock on his bedside table. “Surely whatever you’ve got to say could wait until a more godly hour.”

“Didn’t you hear?” asked Vickie, so giddy she was bouncing up and down on the spot.

“Hear what?” Eddie grumbled, his face smushed into his pillow.

“The Supreme Court declined to consider the appeal in the Baskin vs. Bogan case,” Robin answered.

“Buckley, for the love of God, get to the point. I should still be asleep,” Eddie argued.

“Fine. This should wake you up a bit,” she answered. “Same-sex marriage is officially legal.”

Eddie shot up, his eyes now wide and fixed on Steve. “Courthouse?”

“I guess I’d better find my good suit then, huh?”

After a long three-hour wait outside the Courthouse with Robin and Vickie, as well as fifty other couples, Eddie and Steve were finally at the front of the queue.

“Fill these forms out and take them to that window over there,” instructed the clerk, handing Eddie some papers from a large stack in front of him and pointing to the other side of the room.

“You don’t even know why we’re here,” replied Eddie, one eyebrow raised.

The clerk looked up at Eddie, glanced toward Steve, and then back to Eddie. “I’m going to assume you’re here for the same reason as everybody else? Getting hitched?”

“Yeah.”

“Fill these forms out and take them to that window over there,” he repeated. “Next.”

The two couples filled out their paperwork and made their way over to the other window, their identification and fee money in hand. With everything processed and appointments made for an hour later, they wandered out onto the street to find some food to kill the time.

“I’m gonna call Nance and get them down here,” Robin told them after they situated themselves on a bench to eat their food.

“Reckon we should call the lads?” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of hot dog, promptly spilling mustard on his tie. “Shit.”

Steve grabbed a napkin and wiped it away, shaking his head as he smiled at Eddie. “Probably should, we’ll never hear the end of it if we don’t.”

“Ring Joyce as well, I can’t bear the thought of being told off by her again. I’m not gonna lie, she scares me a little bit.”

“Me too, Eds. Me too,” Steve replied, already dialing her number.

An hour later, in a small room filled with friends and family, Steve and Eddie stood hand in hand before the officiant.

“Steve, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Eddie, take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“By the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of Indiana, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

“Gladly,” Eddie responded with a glint in his eyes, pulling Steve in close.

March 3rd, 2015.

It had been three weeks since Steve had got the call from the adoption agency confirming that he and Eddie were going to be parents.

He’d got the call at lunchtime and ran straight to the principal’s office, blurting out ‘I’ve gotta go. Now. Can you sort a substitute for the rest of the day?’ before bucking it to his car and racing home to tell Eddie the news.

“Who died?” Eddie asked, panic-stricken at the sight of Steve flinging the front door open so quickly he thought it might come off its hinges.

“No one,” Steve replied, panting slightly.

“What’s got your undies in a bunch then?”

Steve threw his bag on the ground and loosened his tie. "Janelle called.”

“Oh god. The application fell through, didn’t it?” Eddie assumed, running his hands through his hair. “I knew it.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s because I keep going away, isn’t it? Maybe I should cancel next year’s Europe tour?”

“Eddie, look at me,” Steve told him, taking his hands in his. “We’re going to be parents.”

“Shut up, we are not.”

“In three weeks, we get to bring Oscar and Rose home.”

“No we’re not, you’re lying,” Eddie answered, tears welling in his eyes.

A tear rolled down Steve’s cheek. “I promise you, I’m not. We’re gonna be dads.”

They’d begun decorating the two spare rooms along with buying furniture and everything thing else they’d need almost instantly, along with recruiting the help of Nancy and Jonathan who, in Eddie’s opinion, were ‘pros at the whole parenting thing’ after raising three children to be ‘somewhat normal’ people.

After two days of staring at paint samples, they opted for baby pink on the walls in Rose’s room and ocean blue in Oscars. Surprisingly, the painting portion of the preparations was rather unstressful given Eddie’s previous history of dramatics when it came to decorating. After four different colours on the living room wall in two weeks when they’d first moved into their new house, Steve had vowed that he would never paint again. The stress came in twofold when it was time to build the crib.

As the days passed, the two had become increasingly more anxious. If they weren’t bickering about what furniture should go where they were bickering about the usefulness of bottle prep machines and diaper bins.

“I just don’t see why we can’t put them in the normal bin,” Steve reasoned for the third time.

“Are you going to walk all the way downstairs to the kitchen bin after you’ve just changed a shitty diaper, half asleep, at three o’clock in the morning?” Eddie argued.

“Yes.”

“Liar. I still think we should get one.”

“Fine, but you’re building Oscar’s bed by yourself.”

“Gotta be easier than the crib, right?”

“I doubt it,” Steve answered, placing an allen key in Eddie’s hand with a smug grin on his face. “Have fun. I’m off to work.”

With a week to go, Steve called an intervention after finding Eddie repainting the banister at four o’clock in the morning.

“It needed doing,” Eddie defended.

“Eddie, babe, come on,” Steve reasoned.

Jonathan let out a chuckle. “Reminds me of the time I found Nance scrubbing the kitchen floor in the early hours when she was eight months gone with Barb.”

“See!”

“He’s nesting, Steve. It’s normal, trust me,” said Nancy.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “You know he’s not pregnant, right?”

“Of course, I do. I know how biology works. That doesn’t mean he can’t nest. It’s just one of those expectant parent things.”

“Cleaning the kitchen is normal, I get that, but Oscar can barely reach the banister and Rose can’t even crawl yet let alone get up the stairs by herself.”

“Just let him have this, Steve,” Jonathan told him, clapping a supportive hand on his shoulder. “And thank god you’re only doing this once.”

“Hey! I was nothing short of delightful during my pregnancies,” Nancy replied.

“Of course, darling.”

The last few days flew by and before they knew it, they were standing on the front porch watching Janelle walk down the garden path with the handle of a car seat in one hand, Rose bundled up inside of it, and Oscar’s hand in the other as he skipped along beside her.

Steve had always thought his love for Eddie knew no bounds and that he’d rather die than lose him again, but at that moment, looking at his three-month-old daughter and his four-year-old son, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he’d use Eddie as a human shield to protect his children if it ever came to it.

5th September 2024.

Steve pushed his reading glasses further up the bridge of his nose, placed his book on the bedside table, and got out of bed.

He should be tired. He knew he should be tired but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t seem to drift off, a promise he’d once made over three decades ago weighing too heavily on his mind.

It had been a very long day.

A suggestion made by Eddie over their morning coffee that a picnic in the park with the entire party would be a great way to both catch up with friends and let all the kids blow off some steam seemed like a good idea at the time. That very same good idea would later turn out to be full-blown chaos.

He loved his family, really he did, but there were only so many times you could hear the words “Dad!” or “Uncle Stevie!” followed by some variation of “They did this!” or “They did that!” without questioning how much of your sanity was still intact at the end of the night.

They’d piled into the park at dinner time. Robin and Vickie were already there, waiting for them with an eager wave. Jonathan and Nancy arrived five minutes later, their children and the newest member of the party, a granddaughter named Joy, in tow. One by one the rest of the party and their small tribes of children and grandchildren arrived, half of which were traipsing behind in typical pre-teen fashion. It would appear that hanging out with your parents and their friends in public isn’t considered “a fun way to spend an afternoon” these days, even if one of them is a world-famous rock star.

It took two hours for all hell to break loose.

“Who’s idea was this again?” Jonathan mumbled, an ice pack from the cooler held against his eyebrow.

“Eddie’s,” grumbled Steve, Lucas, Max, and three of the teenagers.

Eddie peered over the top of his book to address the group. “Come on, guys. We’re having a great time.”

“Are we?”

“The kids are and I suppose that’s what matters, right?” he countered. “Besides, you took that truck to the brow like a champ, Jonathan. You ought to be glad you took that ring out of it.”

Jonathan cringed at the reminder. “It was a phase. We promised not to talk about it again.”

“Phase?” queried Nancy, finishing up tying her umpteenth shoelace of the day.

Barbara raised an eyebrow at her father. “You were twenty-six and you kept it in for ten years.”

“Will, how’s the new house?” he asked quickly, changing the subject.

They sprawled out on the grass for hours until the sun began to set.

The eldest of kids sat away from them, deeply engrossed in an impromptu game of Dungeons and Dragons led by Oz who, much like his father, always had a bag of die handy and could create a campaign on the spot. In between playing with and taking care of the many children that were terrorising the nearby play area, the adults talked and laughed amongst themselves, catching up on all things life and work.

After three tantrums from three different children all within the space of ten minutes, resulting in two bumps to the head and a grazed knee, Erica made the executive decision to disband the group.

It was on the way back to the car, his husband’s hand resting in his and their children strolling beside them, that the promise was brought back to the forefront of Steve’s mind.

“Dad, can I go to Jackson’s tomorrow? He wants to carry on playing D&D,” Oz asked.

“Yeah, sure, but only if it’s okay with Max. I’ll drop you off on my way to Wayne’s,” Steve answered.

“Can I come too, Oscar?” asked Rose.

“I told you not to call me that,” he replied, prompting a chuckle from Eddie.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Can I come too, Oz?”

“Maybe.”

Eddie unlocked the car and opened the door, still chuckling to himself quietly at his son’s outburst. “So, you’re going to Wayne’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, climbing into the car. “I promised I’d cut the grass for him. You know he can’t do it himself now that he’s getting on.”

Eddie let out a chuckle. “You two and your promises. I swear, you’re over there every other day helping him out with something. You get on better with him than I do.”

“I’m a man of my word. Kids, seatbelts.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m not sure if you remember but a long, long time ago you promised to tell me a story. I’m still waiting.”

Steve pondered for a moment, snippets of memories from the Upside Down flashing through his mind. “I did, didn’t I?”

So that’s why later on that night when Steve couldn’t sleep, his mind heavy and his heart full, he found himself sitting in front of his computer staring at a blank document instead of sitting in his usual spot on the porch. To keep a promise he once made a long, long time ago.

Tell Eddie all about The Bloody-Handed and the anguish of loving them, and how every single second was worth it.

A/N:

Elizabeth Munson, Eddie's mother, is a character from from the book 'Stranger Things: Flight Of Icarus'. We learn about her briefly and about how she passed away.

Ronnie Ecker, Eddie's childhood best friend, is a character from from the book 'Stranger Things: Flight Of Icarus'. She was the original drummer for Corroded Coffin and a member of The Hellfire Club until she graduated in 1984 when she moved to New York to study Law.

★★★★★★★★★★

And with that, we're done.

I've had an absolute blast writing this and as happy as I am that it's finally finished, I can't help but feel a little sad to be closing the book on this story and its characters.

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has left likes and reblogged the story. I truly hope that you enjoy the ending as much as I have and that I've done it justice.

Thank you. 🖤

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