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bettyfrommars · 7 months ago

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I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

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Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops. There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them. She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception. She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it. The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink. Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather. Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair.

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted. He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row. You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio.

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks. Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss. Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together. Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up. In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered. In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping. She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground. “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys. The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend. He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man. Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond. “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it. What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument. You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not. She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong. Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road.

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars. “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed. “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors. The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture. Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone. “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests. But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve. When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife. The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly. He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.

But they’d been gravely mistaken.

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother. Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time. It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged. “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll. All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child. Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once. If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe. “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness. “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you. “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face. He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears. “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love. He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally. You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up. You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away. It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face. “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox. “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more. Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could. Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat.

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,” Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old. “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be. Now with another baby, the family was running on empty. You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day. “I’m glad we decided not to have kids. Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off. He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood. He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong. “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated. So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself. They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working. They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys. Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”.

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night. Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes. A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses. Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him. He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night. It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it. The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives. You’d begged him not to, as you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise. .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off. He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back. Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped. “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder. “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are. It’s hot.”

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.

“Smells yummy,” you said before taking a taste. He watched your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe. I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking. One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.

If you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key. There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail. Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn. All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver. So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion. He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang. You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing. You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning. “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove.

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver. The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer. She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in. She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly. She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate. A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been. Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore. But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat. Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father. She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid. Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it. It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself.

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch. “Hey, baby, I’m sorry. Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops. “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep. Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him. Thinking of how he was already letting her down. “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong. He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about. There had to be something else going on.

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together. “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV. “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other. “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it. “No one has ever meant more to me than you. You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand. She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding. “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex. “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand. “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead. “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap.

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes. “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly. “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes. “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change. He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke. Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working. He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife.

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend. She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there. Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her. Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck. She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness.

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away. She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers. So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses. The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway. She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you. The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building. He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people. She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over. She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone. She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows. A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was. She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow. “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink. His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair. “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt. She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason. Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out. “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV. She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back. It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room. She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances. But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed. “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch. “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task. Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?”

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer. “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem.

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy. She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved. By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question. “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling. “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered. “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse. Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears.

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling. He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason.

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch. Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed. “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her. “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?”

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now. Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back. Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke. The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation. “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet. “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad. It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest. “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats.

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today. Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went. Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house. You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin. The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it. “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser. You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help. “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary. “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market. The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat. He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him. A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question.

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued. “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s. Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up. Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires. Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops. Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve. The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them. But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it.

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street. His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying. Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet. His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist. The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement. Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather. “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist. “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot. “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand. “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed. “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked. “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense. “I should kill you for what you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman. Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?” Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream. Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid.

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve. Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different. She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy.

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy. You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms. You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back. “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something? Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about. Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners. He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms. “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed. “I had good company.” She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her. “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop.

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened. “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant. Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender. “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted. “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered. “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back. “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod.

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone. “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene. It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office. Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign.

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in. The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets. It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound. Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby. Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too. The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot.

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now. You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side. He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further. He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them. Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass.

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie. “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat. If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse.

Astrid kissed his cheek. “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar. She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby. Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.

For some reason, Charlene was frozen. Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly. If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other. Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table. Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently.

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes. “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch. But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening. She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight. Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them. She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness.

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself. There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over. Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped. “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat. Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens. She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five. Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed. “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered. As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?” He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose. “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder.

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born. There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers. There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck. You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear. “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago, you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame. Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time. Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest. He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin. “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down. Afraid to open it, even. Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder. He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar. It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older.

The dandelion was a fair trade.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

#I'm on Fire #IoF #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker Eddie Munson #biker Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson fanfiction #biker au #Robin Buckley #Steve Harrington

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