#jim hopper from stranger things

[artiststarme]

Steve looking up at Uncle Wayne as the father figure he never had. Unlike his dad, he doesn’t cheat or disappear from his life when things get tough. Eddie loves it because it means he can see his boyfriend even more. It’s all fun and games until Steve goes to his father figure to complain about his boyfriend leaving him at a McDonald’s after a fight they had. Then Eddie has to deal with an upset boyfriend, a disappointed uncle, and an angry Robin to boot.

He has no choice but to take desperate measures. Eddie tells Hopper that Wayne is trying to take his “cool dad” spot in the Party and watches the chaos unfold.

By time anyone realizes what he’s done, he’s made up with Steve and escapes another murderous rage by the skin of his teeth. Mission accomplished, indeed.

Should I make this into a longer fic? I feel like I could go places with this lol

[munson-blurbs]

Hopper minutes after a giant machine explodes .5 feet away from him:

Steve, Robin, and Nancy minutes after being choked by Vecna's vines:

Meanwhile... Eddie minutes after a few lil bat nibbles:

[why-the-heck-not]

it’s october so the desired aesthetic is once again ”disgraced small town ex-detective chainsmoking in their basement/garage (that's been turned into a messy office with the wall of papers, articles & pics connected with red yarn) driven mad trying to crack the (paranormal?) cold case everyone else has already given up on years ago”

[munsonfamilyband]

In Everything But Blood

Alright, I finished the giant paper I had to write (40 pages jesus christ) and then grad school kind of kicked my ass for a while BUT I AM HERE, back from a months long hiatus to finally write the claudia henderson thing I wrote weeks ago. Enjoy, there will be more but this was so long and I only got to like halfway through it but I wanted to post this.

TW!!!! Seriously TW, graphic descriptions of gore and injuries, medical talk, THIS IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE GRAPHIC ON PURPOSE

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve wasn't fully aware of how he was still moving but he wasn't going to question it as he sprints into the hospital behind Nancy and Robin, Eddie draped over his back and getting blood everywhere, Dustin limping as fast as he could behind them. He would probably be panicking more if he couldn't feel the little puffs of air Eddie was breathing out every few seconds against his neck.

The nurses all turn to the doors when Nancy slams them open and while there are already plenty of people who look worse for wear in the waiting room, no one looks quite like the group that just walked in. They're all covered in dirt and ash and sweat and lake water and blood blood bloodbloodblood-

Okay, maybe Steve is starting to panic a little.

Nancy yells for help when no one immediately moves and the gun she's holding definitely helps encourage any nurses and doctors to get over any issues they have treating Eddie.

Robin has to pry Steve's hands off of Eddie's pants. He didn't want to let him go, too scared that he would die and Steve wouldn't be there to help. She manages to gently guide him away from the doors they took Eddie through and she sits him down in a chair before sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, Stevie. We got him here, he's okay."

Steve knows that she's only saying it to help calm him down, and probably to calm herself down too, but he appreciates it all the same.

As they sit there Steve feels the adrenaline starting to fade and he gets a very stark reminder of how his sides are stinging and every breath makes his shirt rub against the scrapes on his back and arms. If he hadn't been in a state of panic already, worried about Eddie and Max and Lucas and Erica and-

He takes a deep breath and leans into Robin's weight at his side. He can't get help yet, not until he knows everyone else is okay.

(If he were feeling braver he might also admit that he's been a little scared of doctors since Scoops, but he's not feeling very brave at the moment.)

A little while later Steve sees Lucas and Erica and forces himself to stand, hurrying over to check on them, to find out where Max is. He instantly knows that something went wrong when Erica slams into him and holds on tight. He only gets more concerned when Lucas leans in to hold onto Erica and Steve at the same time. And then the pit gets bigger when he feels tears hit his shirt.

"Lucas, hey, you're alright. Hey, look at me- hey. What happened? Where's Max?" Steve stares at Lucas's face as he speaks, trying to get an idea of how he's feeling.

Lucas takes a shuddering breath in before he answers, "She-she-.. it was going fine and then... Jason-Jason fuckin'- he crushed her Walkman and I couldn't-she was floating and Jason had-had a gun and I-She was-was dead, for a minute, and then she-she just started breathing again and I dont-"

Steve pulls Lucas closer again, a hand on the back of his neck to give him support as he spoke quietly. "Okay, alright, you did good. She's here, right? She'll be okay. She's gonna be okay." Steve stayed there with them for who knows how long, only separating when he heard a familiar voice gasp from the door.

"Oh thank god, Erica, Lucas!"

Both of them turned to see their mom in the waiting room and ran at her, where she met them in a crushing hug. As Sue held her children close she looked up, tears falling and made eye contact with Steve. Steve saw her mouth 'Thank you' to him and it made his stomach fall to his feet. Sue had always adored Steve for protecting her kids, first from Billy and then in the "fire" at the mall. But this time, Steve was the reason they got hurt. He let them go off on their own and they got hurt.

He nods and walks back over to Robin and Dustin where they're sitting, suddenly remembering his injuries again as he moves away from the Sinclairs. He has to force himself to walk normally just to make it to the chair, only to nearly collapse back into it.

~~~~

"Alright, time to go, Dust. Now that your foot's been treated I really need to get you home. Claudia is going to start calling morgues if I don't," Steve grunts out as he helps heave Dustin out of his seat and get settled on his crutches. Robin stands once Dustin is steady and she follows them out of the hospital and climbs into the passenger of Steve's car. (Nancy had left once Eddie was taken to stash the RV somewhere and she came back with his beemer. Steve isn't going to ask.)

The ride to Dustin's house is quiet, Steve can tell each of them is silently asking anything out there that the Henderson house was spared. Thankfully when they pulled into the driveway the house was in one piece and only seconds after parking Claudia is yanking open the front door and running out to meet them at the car.

She runs up to Dustin who had managed to stand up using the car as support and they both cling to each other in tears. Steve watches them for a moment before he has to look away or he'll start crying. He spaces out for a bit, just holding Robin's hand when he get startled by the harsh knocks on his window. Looking up, he locks eyes with Claudia and he can't quite read her expression but he can hear her say, "Get your butt out of that car, Steve, I need to look at you. You too, Robbie."

He and Robin make eye contact for a split second before hurrying to comply. As soon as Steve is standing fully he finds himself being yanked down into a hug, Claudia's arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Steve has to take a deep, shaky breath and blink very quickly to stop any tears. He loves Claudia's hugs, they feel like birthdays and Christmas and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket with hot chocolate all at once. When he hears her mumbling about how glad she is that he's okay, well, maybe he cries a little.

After he and Robin are both fully looked at by Claudia and then each given at least 3 hugs, they climb back into his car and pull away form the Hendersons.

"Am I taking you home or are you coming with me?" Steve glances over at Robin as he says it. He knows the answer without he responding, just because her face pinches in the way it does when she's afraid of making Steve sad.

"I know last time we went to yours but I just... I need to see my parents. I'm so sorry-"

"Robs, it's okay to want to check on your parents. I'm not upset. Can you just.. keep your walkie on our channel tonight?" Steve glances at her again, getting hit with another Robin look that says she can see right through him.

"Always, Stevie. I am sorry though, I hate the idea of you in that house alone."

"I'll be okay, Robbie. I'm just gonna sleep as soon as I get home anyways."

Robin stares at him for a moment longer and then nods, grabbing one of his hands to hold in hers for the last half of the drive. She only lets it go to give him a tight squeeze before hurrying out of the car to her front door.

Steve waits until she's safely inside before he pulls away and goes to his own house.

The moment he shuts the door behind himself it feels like all of the energy in his body has been drained away. He can barely keep himself standing, only the pain that shoots down his spin when he leans back onto the door keeps him upright.

He forces himself to trudge upstairs and goes right to the bathroom. He starts with getting the clothes off, deciding to just cut them off so he doesn't have to lift his arms.

Then comes the cleaning. He first tries to shower but he can only handle standing with pressured water pelting his back and soap stinging his feet for a minute at the most. When he gives up on the shower he figures he should at least try to clean the bites.

One second he's standing in front of the mirror and reaching to pull off the fabric, the next his whole body is covered in sweat and he's sitting on his ass on the tile floor. His hands are shaking at he wants to vomit from the pain.

No changing the bandage then.

Steve forces himself to at least wash his face and hands with a washcloth before he collapses directly into bed and falling asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claudia is worried. She had already been a little concerned when Steve showed up two days earlier for lunch with a flushed face and too pale skin. She watched him and he didn't act any different but she kept note of it so that she could watch him. But then, when they were supposed to have lunch at 12 and Steve still hadn't shown up or even called by 1, well, Claudia was concerned. Steve always insisted on being on time, claiming it came from all the sports he had done (but she had heard him mumble about his parents harassing him about being late before when he had a head injury, so she just nodded along to his excuses). Being an hour late was entirely out of character and something in her gut, the same feeling she had experienced multiple times over the past few years about her Dusty, told her that she needed to go see him, and soon.

Dustin was thankfully not at home, spending the afternoon with the Wheelers, so she didn't have to tell him what was happening before she got into her car and drove to Steve's house.

What greeted her when she parked only made her more nervous. Steve, she had noticed, had strange habits relating to many things. He had to sit close enough to touch the person next to him, he tried to hide it but he never kept alcohol in the house anymore, he kept the curtains closed facing the backyard, and he always, always leaves the porch light on.

But that afternoon in early April, the porch light was off.

Claudia parked quickly and hurried to the front door, not even bothering with knocking. Instead she pulled out the key Steve had made for her and Dusty after the previous summer and let herself in.

The dread that had been growing in her gut only intensified when she entered the house and a very familiar smell hit her nose.

Body odor, sweat and salt and morning breath.

Bodily fluids, urine and vomit. And blood.

Infection, sickly sweet rot mixing with something like ammonia.

Time seemed to freeze as Claudia ran up the stairs, calling Steve's name all the while. She knew those smells, she had dealt with them at work too many times to not know them, and to smell them in relation to Steve made her blood run cold. She needed to see him, this boy who cared for her Dusty so much, this boy who had wormed his way into her heart, this boy who was her son.

Rushing into Steve's room she was greeted by her worst fears. Steve was lying on his bed, the sheets clearly kicked off and tangled around his ankles. He was only wearing his boxers and they had clearly not been changed in a few days, stained with his sweat and urine. His skin was covered in sweat, his chest and cheeks were bright red and the rest of his skin was a waxy yellow. He was shirtless, vomit covering his chin and chest and staining the pillow and sheets below him. He had what looked like scraps of a sweater or shirt wrapped loosely around his stomach. It was filthy, saturated with sweat, blood, dirt and pus. The smell in the room was much stronger than by the front door, her eyes watering briefly before she forced herself to focus. She was a nurse, she could handle this.

Claudia moved to the bed and gently kneeled onto the mattress. As she moved closer she could hear Steve mumbling to himself but it was so quiet and so slurred that nothing was legible. Claudia placed a hand on his forehead and jerked back in shock at how hot his skin was. Glancing around frantically for anything to help she saw the phone at his bedside table and grabbed it, punching in 911 before cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she continued to check over Steve.

The next moments all passed in a blur for Claudia as she explained who she was and where she was to the dispatcher before they hung up and she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The ride to the hospital passed in what seemed like a blink of an eye and suddenly Claudia found herself in the empty waiting room at Hawkins General and she became aware of two equally important facts.

Her sweater and hands were saturated with Steve's sweat and blood.

She needed to call Robin.

The blood would have to wait, because she knew that Robin would want to be there for Steve so she managed to wipe her hand with some tissues before dialing the Buckley's house.

"Buckley residence, this is Robin," Robin's voice came through the receiver and Claudia let out a loud sigh.

"Robbie, honey, thank goodness you're home. I have some bad news. I'm at the hospital right now sweetie, it's about Steve." Claudia paused after she finished speaking, waiting to see what Robin would say. Unfortunately for Claudia, rather than saying anything, she had to listen to a gut wrenching gasp and sob from Robin, so she chose to keep talking. "I went to his house and found him in his room. I think he had been hurt and it got infected. If your parents are home, I think you should come here, he would want you here."

Robin mumbled a few okays, clearly through tears before she hung up. In the silence after Claudia had no choice but to go clean herself up, allowing herself a minute to collapse onto a toilet seat and cry. Her boy was hurt and she couldn't help him, he was so hurt he didn't even know she was there and she didn't know what to do.

Robin arrived about 10 minutes after they ended their call with a surprise in tow.

Jim Hopper, thinner and without a mustache, but somehow alive and marching into the hospital like he was going into hell. Knowing about his daughter, he probably felt like he was in hell.

Robin spotted Claudia first and ran over to her, arms open and Claudia pulled her right into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth the way Steve always loves. Robin held back just as tight and cried into her shoulder while Claudia whispered to her, "He'll be okay, he's going to be okay."

Jim didn't say anything, just nodded - as if she hadn't thought he was dead until that moment - before he collapsed into a chair, head in his hands and knee bouncing with anxiety.

Hours passed, Robin had curled herself up in a chair next to Claudia and was leaning into her side. Jim had moved to sit on the other side of Robin and surprisingly she reached out and held his hand.

After ages of sitting there in silence a doctor walked through the doors. Claudia recognized her immediately and knew that she had been lucky to find Steve alive if she had been called in. Dr. Graham was one of the only wound specialists they had at the hospital and she focused on the worst cases.

Claudia straightened in her seat, her two companions also coming to attention as Dr. Graham came to sit with them.

"Hello, Claudia. I'm sorry you had to come in on your day off but you got very lucky. If you hadn't brought him in today he may have gone into sepsis. Thankfully he has you listed as his emergency contact so I can fill you in on everything. I want to start by saying that he is currently stable and on heavy medication. He had multiple heavily infected wounds, primarily on his abdomen but there was also apparent road rash across the back of his arms and upper back. We were able to debride the wounds from the rash relatively easily but his abdomen was more difficult. The bandage he had been using was extremely dirty and not made for wound coverage so many fibers had been imbedded into the open wounds. Luckily there had been little necrotizing fasciitis but there was enough that we had to remove the dead tissue. I do want to make sure you understand that he was very seriously injured and delayed treatment made it worse. We are going to test the pus we collected for different bacteria to narrow down the treatment for him but I'm thinking it may be leptospirosis, since he is visibly jaundiced and the injures are obviously animal bites. We have him sedated currently and on heavy antibiotics in the ICU. If you wear protective gear you can visit him for a little bit, but only people on his emergency contact list can come."

Claudia's head was spinning, she was hearing the words being said and she was following the doctor down the hall to the ICU. She was putting paper scrubs on over her clothes and donning a mask and gloves, but it was all in a daze. She needed to see Steve, she needed to see him breathing, then she would be okay.

She was not okay.

Seeing Steve only made her collapse into a chair in tears. He looked so small in the hospital bed, wrapped in wires and tubes. But he was breathing. Robin collapsed onto the foot of his bed and bent over his shins while she sobbed and Jim stumbled into the wall by the door with a hand over his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent anguish. They knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was breathing and he had to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright that was part one, I'm working on the next half but wow that ended up being really long

Taglist

@maya-custodios-dionach @ape31 @eldtritchlizardblast @y4r3luv @devondespresso @zerokrox-blog @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @estrellami-1 @jonesn4coffee @whatexactlyismyhoohah @lingeringmirth @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @spectrum-spectre @steddieasitgoes @puppy-steve @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @nburkhardt @sllooney @princessstevemunson @yellowdevilkitten @emchant3d @steddie-island @afewproblems

[steddieme]

i started writing an entire steve is seven fix-it au ficlet just because of this one scene that was stuck in my mind. but it's turning out way too long, so here's the scene instead

and god when he first meets eleven again. they all gather together at steve's to strategize and eleven steps into the house with hopper and the kids in tow. and steve just. starts crying as soon as he sees her.

"ellie," he sobs out. everyone, but robin, looks confused. eleven frowns but as steve takes his watch off and shows her his tattoo, her eyes widen in recognition. the kids move to interrupt, but eleven runs towards steve.

"seven!" she yells as she jumps into his arms. he holds her tight and sinks to his knees as his body is wrecked with sobs. el begins to cry into his shirt.

"i'm so sorry, ellie, i didn't want to leave you there, i'm so sorry," he gasps out.

"i know, it's okay, seven," she whispers.

the room is silent with varying levels of shock and heartbreak on everyone's faces. steve pulls away to put his forehead against el's.

"it's steve now, actually. well steven, but everyone calls me steve."

"steven... did you just add a t to seven?" el asks, scrunching her nose.

steve laughs and says, "my mom, or well the family that found me, gave me that name. it's a real name, i swear."

"what the hell is going on?" mike interrupts them.

steve sighs. it's time to explain everything.

[groovinrightalong]

“Will Wheeler” “Mike Byers”

I’ll do you one better. Will and Mike Hopper.

[spookystarfishzombie]

[discodeviant]

“There’s no lock.”

Billy still had his only duffel bag slung over his shoulder when he walked into the bedroom. The window was open; from outside, a comfortable breeze blew in, cooling the sweat at his temples. Hopper stood behind him, arms crossed, a large and intimidating force even in his own home.

Their home, Billy reminded himself.

"Do you need one tonight?" Hopper asked, and Billy shook his head.

"No, it's fine."

Hopper nodded, tight and short. A two-finger salute without the two fingers. "Hey, we'll go back for your car in the morning, alright?"

Billy's breath was sharp then, loud because he didn't want to go back to the house he'd fought so hard to run from. But he nodded. He needed his car.

"Billy."

He still didn't look up from the floor, from the bed, from the nightstand with a little yellow lamp and flower-shaped clock that ticked in the silence.

"You're safe," Hopper told him, gave another second before walking away in socks instead of boots. Man instead of Cop. Father instead of--

Billy carried one of the dining chairs in to prop under the doorknob for the night.

In the morning, they went to get his car.

In the afternoon, he had work at the pool until early evening.

At Hopper's trailer--at home, his bedroom--there was a new doorknob, and Billy's stomach tangled into a knot. Tears burned his eyes, his fist clenched; he thought it would be different with Hopper, but of course it wasn't, because Hopper was the same, because they were all the fucking same, and--

The lock was backwards.

For Billy, it was backwards. For Neil, it was backwards. There was a small key taped to the door, and everything was backwards.

Hopper came in from the kitchen, barefoot this time, in sweats and a tank, and asked, "That gonna work out for ya?"

Billy looked into his eyes. Looked for the blaze he was used to under there, looked for the threat of changing his room, of putting the lock back on the right way, because the right way would keep Billy out of his hair and in line.

But it was all air. It was clear skies and steady waves.

"Yeah," Billy said. "Thanks," he said, because Hopper had already told him not to call him sir and laughed when he did again anyway.

"Dinner's almost ready. Come get it whenever."

Big feet shuffled away again, and the air that lingered wasn't billowy smoke from a fire that refused to be tamed.

It was safety.

[stevesbipanic]

Wayne and Hopper both need this mug.

[lovelytremendousglitter]

He is screaming and crying for help

Part 1

Jim only felt slightly guilty at this. He was, after all, a tired middle aged police officer and honest enough with himself to know that if it weren’t for Jane, he would have probably fallen into Morpheus’s arms with a half-finished sixpack and a couple of empty chip bags.

        So Hopper could definitely appreciate a home cooked meal. Returning home to a ready dinner and a happy daughter is something that both scarred and soothed his wounded heart. It serves as a painful reminder, not only of what he used to have, but of how he failed Diane and how he continues to fail every day. Because, yeah the fact that a teen basically parents his daughter but doesn’t stick around when her parent’s over is sick. Hopper would very much like to have a dinner with the boy. Ask him a couple crucial questions. Like what business the most popular kid in Hawkins has hanging around any children, annoying nerdy ones at that. But every time he gathers enough courage for that, Steve slips out with progressively lamer excuses. Jim’s getting increasingly worried. When was the last time he was in the same room as Harrington and the kids? He has no idea what’s happening under his own roof every other day and that’s unacceptable.

              The past two weeks he found himself looking for an opportunity to kick him out, throttle him a little, make him never come back again. And then he sees Jane, and how his presence makes her more confident, more sociable. Watches with poorly vailed delight as she happily gobbles up Harringtons pumpkin stew. Last time he cooked they had to spend the entire evening cleaning up and getting El to eat vegetables ended in them not talking for three days and he’s just so tired. Looks at the dinner before him, which is more nutritious and tasty than anything Hopper would ever hope to create. Jane is getting closer to a healthy weight and he’ll begrudgingly admit he is too.

              At night he lies in bed agitated. Reasons Harrington’s just lonely after getting dumped. Or that somehow this is his ploy to get her back. That by taking care of the brats she’s so close to, he will gain something in her eyes. He goes to sleep once again promising himself to finally talk to the kid. That he doesn’t mind buying, making and cleaning up after dinner, if it gains him some of her attention.

              Needless to say the police chief never expected this. One thing about Harrington is that he never stays over for long, especially with Jim present. Despite what one could have expected Steve is actually surprisingly understanding of him and his wariness about people seeing El, hurting her. Seems to know that a boy his age hanging around kids isn’t welcomed and so he never overstays his welcome.

              So when Hopper comes home to the sight of one Steve Harrington lying on his couch and bleeding all over his only white towel, with two thirds of the toddler bunch jumping around him, he is a little bit shocked. They haven’t noticed him yet. Jane stands in the middle holding what looks like every blanket they own. Will is holding a steaming cup attempting to spoon feed Harrington. Henderson looks like a maniac, with rubber gloves that Jim forgot he owned, holding a roll of bandages. He can clearly see Mike Wheeler anxiously trotting along the cabins living room yelling angrily into his radio. It’s shocking enough that he releases his hold on the door and it closes loudly. Suddenly all (accept for Harringtons who lets out a yelp as he moves to sit) heads snap to him. The door locks snap shut at once. There’s a second of peace before all five start yelling over each other.

“Oh, great sir, you have to hel-“

“Hopper I can explain. I wa-“

“Steve is hurt.”

“Chief, pass me the antiseptic”

“-ink Dustin knows appropriate firs-“

As always Hopper focuses on his daughter first.

“Are you hurt? Any of you?”

“I am not hurt”

“Obviously we’re not hurt. Haven’t you heard the best paramedic is an alive paramedic.”

Since he met them Jim has never once been as thankful for their all-knowing snarky attitudes as he is now. God knows he can’t handle more than one moaning kid. There’s only going to be one problem today. A problem witch has apparently given up on moving and let his head fall with a quiet thud. Some part of Hopper, that he takes great effort to hide, is happy that Harrington finally can’t escape him. He closes his eyes and tries swallow down the venomous offspring of his suspicion. It takes one second, one second, to collect himself and of course that’s all it takes for the chaos to start up again. This time provoked by Wheelers radio.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”  Maybe it’s the interference but Jim doesn’t recognize the voice of whoever Mike was yelling at more than any other people in this town.

“Steve is hurt. We’re helping” El instantly replies clearly pleased to know what’s going on and Jim is shamefully a little proud, that his little girl is most calm in this situation.

“We’re trying to do stiches, sir, and.. uh-” Will ever the polite young man tries to offer but then Wheeler of all people has to ruin it by bitching back at the walkie-talkie.

“Hopper’s pissing himself, don’t interrupt” Oh, that’s it El is going to wait three years before that boy is allowed in here again. He’s outdone himself this time. It’s getting very clear to that Mike needs to be taught some respect and he would gladly fulfil his duty as the chief and be the one to teach him.       He’s just about to threaten the kid with that, when the Henderson kid screeches.

“Steve is dying, is what’s going on and if you’re not going to tell us about stiches than get lost because you’re no help right now.” Jim didn’t even know that a fourteen year old boy was capable of such a sound, but he quickly abandoned that thought when little Will started shaking Harrington by the shoulders. Oh shit. Hopper will begrudgingly admit, that sometimes he can be a victim of tunnel vision, and it would seem his dislike of Mike Wheeler might have misguided his judgement of the situation, but now, as he looks at Wills pale face he can feel himself sobering up.

              His eyes move over Harrington, trying to assess the damages. His face is still full of yellow and green hues, but there aren’t any visible cuts. If it weren’t for the bloody towel under his head and Byers’s terrified expression he wouldn’t even know anything was wrong. Steves eyes are closed and he’s breathing small quiet breaths. He’s unconscious.  Hopper is sure he was talking just fine five minutes ago. He cups his face between his palms and maneuvers them/it to look for the cut. Now that he touched him he realizes Harrington is burning. His hair feels damp, especially where it’s shorter, but it looks as over-the-top as ever. He lets out a whine when Hopper pushes him up to sit. Around them the kids are all holding their breath. The only sound interrupting the surprisingly firm silence was the crackling coming from Wheelers radio.

              He finds it.  Going from the back of Harringtons head, next to his left ear, to the middle section on top is a open cut, slowly oozing blood into thick hair. Carefully Jim tries to push the hair apart, struggling to get a better look while not worsening the wound. When he finally manages, the pregnant silence is interrupted by several kids’ gasps. It’s not good. It’s vicious red, leaking puss in several places and if Hopper’s seeing properly, has some remnants of dirt in it. The edges are painted a darker color, somewhat scabbed over, like an old poorly treated tear re-opening. All right, that’s it. Hopper is done letting Steve from his grasp. It’s about time to get this problem over with thoroughly.

[mayahawkins]

TIMESTAMP ROULETTE — Stranger Things 2, Chapter Eight: The Mind Flayer

[artiststarme]

The Gift of Not Dying Part 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Walked from where?”

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

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

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

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

Tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @counting-dollars-counting-stars @newtstabber @estrellami-1 @thegoblinboy @manda-panda-monium @i-less-than-three-you @joruni @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mentalcyborg @vampireinthesun @spectrum-spectre @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @nam-draws @anaibis @zerokrox-blog @renaissan-vvitch @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @labels-are-for-the-weak @amoris-no-smut-allowed @5ammi90 @precursorandthedragon @i-must-potato @valinwonderland @lololol-1234 @wonderland-girl143-blog @tailsfromthecrypt @trippypancakes @ghosttotheparty @thing-a-ling @bleach-the-kitten @pyrohonk @carlyv @gregre369 @lololol-1234

@conversesweetheart @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @perseus-notjackson @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @lumoschild @lawrencebshoggoth @devondespresso @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @nohomoyesbi @theseaofdespair @justdrugsformethanks @space-invading-pigeon @audz-aus @mintmont

[fluffyfangirl]

i was able to fill it! (esp. compared to 2022)

Everything (except the December one) is already on tumblr:

January II February II March II April

May II June II July II August

September II October II November II

[opossumprints]

I keep thinking about what the fourth would be like the summer after Vecna is defeated

I think about how everyone is kinda nervous about getting fireworks after everything but Wayne and Eddie have a tradition of lighting fireworks together and after everything they have been through the group decides “ehhh worth a shot” and besides it’ll be something nice for their two newest members

Eddie’s the one who gets all the fireworks and it’s things called, like, “nuclear war fair” and “the Big One tm” and one shaped like a taco. Needless to say Eddie is NOT allowed to light them.

However Hopper refuses to light them because he’s had to deal with too many idiots blowing themselves sky high in the name of patriotism and wants nothing to do with it.

So the duty falls to Steve.

Steve who takes his sweet ass time walking away once he’s lit the fuse and stands concerningly close, arms crossed, still holding the lighter.

Hey, if he had to launch rockets at a melted-people-monster while high off his ass and beat to high hell he can handle these glorified sparklers.

[collectivecloseness]

I have this angsty mess of ideas that I don't know how to put together but I'm gonna try to explain it. So like Steve has been in love with you since like forever and you become friends in season one blah blah blah you're inseparable etc, you have the tendency saving Steve's ass everytime but then you die while saving him and steve never got the chance to confess (not really that important but I guess it adds emotional damage idk) he obviously blames himself for it and everytime his phone rings he answers with the hope that for some fucked up reasons it's you and you're actually still alive but stuck in the upside down. Everyone is concerned about him bc it feels like he's slowly going crazy and is very much delusional.

Idk if that's like very long or makes no sense at all so sorry in advance, your eyes must be bleeding after reading this. :/

Robin being the one to always check on Steve after he loses you. She knew what you meant to Steve, most shifts mentioned you, and your recent interactions with Steve, most nights were him- were the both of them, talking on the phone about you. She loved the whole will they won’t they, and the puppy love gossip with Steve. Now she wished she’d pushed more, at least Steve would feel better if you’d known.

Robin’s learnt to be more open and vulnerable, since she’s been the one to look after Steve, being emotional and like a true friend, rather than snarky and quippy and teasing with him. She’s always coming in to check on him with her key to his house, pressing her hand on his shoulders each time she says hi, unless she’s rushing to comfort him again.

Robin tells him a few times “You know I said I can move in, or we could both move to our own place! I’m lonely! Besides, I love spending time with my best friend.” Robin’s been encouraging it. Her and Steve had breiefly passed the ideas before, before you, but she got the feeling back then they both badly would have liked it, living together, but neither wanted to be the first to come on too strong and vulnerable. It was different now. And Robin really didn’t want Steve to be lonely either. Besides, Robin came over to Steve’s literally every day she could anyway.

But to Steve, Robin wasn’t you. He still loves Robin, as her own person and his friend, he doesn’t compare you two at all. But Steve worried the constant company might make him go crazier than he already feels. It also wouldn’t allow for any of his unhealthier coping mechanisms. Steve would argue in his head, even crying or screaming himself to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to do anymore, but he’d done that in front of some of his friends anyways.

Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Dustin, all of his friends all worried about him. Max, Lucas and El had come over yesterday. Joyce makes sure to drop by a couple of times a week at least. Robin came every day, while the others did sometimes, varying in frequency. They knew Steve wasn’t healthy.

Sometimes, Steve whipped his head to the side, out of nowhere, or maybe with a small sound one of them picked up, from years of fear of monsters from other dimensions. But they knew it wasn’t Steve being scared of bumps in the night. It was because he thought he may have heard you. It was a glimmer of hope, just for a second, and they hated seeing it shatter each time.

Steve did worry about bumps in the night too. Steve worried about the next time he’d have to fight, no matter what it might be. Because this time, no one would come to save him.

You were always the first to come for him. You specifically sought Steve out first, checked on him first, he was always your first choice, the one you always checked on, the one you’d always save. You were with Steve for all his fuck ups. You’d seen him grow, and he knows you’d never judged him for his past once he actually got better. Not once. No one else had done that. But you also made Steve better. And he was still scared he won’t be as much now, without you.

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure he really wanted anyone to save him next time. If the next time he dies saving the others, then whatever. He couldn’t save you. At least he could be with you then.

No one would be designated to check Steve first, to save him first, and that’s what he got. Steve always put himself in front of danger first, and now he’d lost you, there would be no one to save him. It was his price.

Steve wanted to go back straight after. He wanted to go back for you the next day, and the day after. To the place he’d left you. At the end of the week, he told Robin his plans, with his rucksack already on his back. And not only did she physically hold Steve to the floor, but she locked all the doors as she walkied Eddie and Nancy - not the kids, she knew when Steve was better, even now, he wouldn’t want the kids to see him like this - and Eddie had to bear hug Steve so he wouldn’t try to leave, while all of them gently tried to talk their friend down. They said it was a suicide mission! And that’s when Steve screamed “I DON’T CARE!” Trapped in his friends arms. Screaming those words not enough overemotionally, but too genuinely, that it really got them worried. Steve was still fighting to leave. He had collapsed into tears after that. He wanted to go and he meant it.

Nancy wanted to sedate him by that point, because she was too worried Steve would leave. But Robin put her foot down at that thought. It would create a super bad spiral, and Steve wouldn’t trust them, she knew they had to do something else! Luckily Robin thought of something. Mixed in with Steve’s yells at Eddie, Eddie trying to talk to Steve, and Nancy on edge and trying to not look as upset as she probably was while getting Robin to think of something else before she snapped.

Robin called the number she knew to, and soon afterwards, Joyce was entering Steve’s home with her own spare key. Joyce let Steve cry into her lap, and she stroked his back, talking when Steve wanted to, only lulling her own assurances when he didn’t, and just soothing Steve, until he fell asleep like that, in his room with her. Robin knew Steve wouldn’t fight Joyce to leave, or yell too much at her or anything. Steve had fallen asleep early in the afternoon, and Nancy didn’t even need to sedate him because he stayed asleep, luckily for the entire night. Joyce wouldn’t leave. She wanted to stay until morning, she didn’t want to leave Steve overnight, or at all right now.

Joyce even made breakfast the morning after, making sure to stay by Steve’s side because he’d always eat her cooking if she was there. And it was a sickly sweet feeling for everyone watching whenever that happened, because Steve would take a few bites and then finish his plate clean. But they knew he’d probably only had a few bites the day before, with how much he gorged on Joyce’s dishes when she was around to eat with him.

Robin stayed in bed with Steve most nights for sleepovers. That night Joyce had, which she’d done quite a few times. Nancy or Eddie had done it several times more, too. Sometimes Steve would say look, he really just wanted tonight alone. And if they trusted the way he said it, he got that. They understood sometimes he did need that. But Robin also hates leaving Steve alone, because she knows nights are worse for him (and in general as well). She didn’t want to be overbearing though, something friends when she was younger would stop being her friends for, but a trait she’d stopped shielding when she needed to be Steve’s open support. But to be honest, even if Steve couldn’t mourn as well if he wasn’t alone at night, those mostly seemed like mourning in the destructive ways.

Steve knew he was safe with Robin, or Nance, or Eddie, or Joyce there, from monsters, and from himself. Not that he was thinking of that last part, he was trying to convince them, but he wasn’t very good at stopping his brain from eating himself alive, because he didn’t feel like he wanted to stop. He wanted punishment.

At one point, after you’d died, Eddie had tried to give Steve something of yours, an item he got from your house when he went to visit your family. When he’d explored your now, forevermore, empty room. But Steve had a moment, and was mad that Eddie had ruined your shirt, forever tainting it with his smell, and his touch, and not leaving it the way you had the day you’d gone to meet Steve and the others. Steve had later apologised for freaking out on Eddie about it. Something Eddie casually waved his hand over, promising Steve never could be freaky, and saying it was okay, he was sorry too. Steve didn’t really want to think about anymore. That top still felt slightly tainted, no matter how ridiculous Steve knew it was. He just didn’t have much left of you, that was still untouched. That was yours, and had still last been touched, moved, adored, by you. So Robin didn’t bring Steve things from your house. She’d just tell him if she found something, if he wanted to look at it, or go over later. To which Steve would generally just nod at her.

Steve had had a few moments, but luckily, he’d had friends there every single time. No matter how different the moments were. If it was him spiralling, down dangerous paths for himself. Him accidentally spooking someone, maybe by lashing out, or just not having the energy to look after someone else, even if they were upset because of his crumbling. Including the ones, where Steve would adamantly deny the facts in front of him. It was like the first two days, Steve knew you were dead. And he always did, of course. The fact never left his soul. But after that things changed, and became slightly more of a purgatory, Steve always seemed even just a fraction hazy.

One time Robin had come back to Nancy crying, and Steve sobbing loud like a broken child on the floor. Steve had sworn it was you who had called. But he’d missed the call, running and slipping since he’d been in the shower when it rang. Nancy and Robin guessed he’d been thinking about you. And with a hand to his forehead between his wails on the floor, Robin knew he’d made the water too hot, again. Steve had tried to call back, but it wouldn’t work. And he yelled at Nancy for not picking up the phone, but that was only after she’d tried to gently remind him that it couldn’t be you. And then Steve had done everything to try and call back, almost breaking his phone till Nancy had wrestled it away from him. And when he realised he couldn’t, either call back, or call you, Robin hadn’t quite gotten through to him about it, Steve had collapsed into pained sobs, so distraught, and so unable to be taken out of his pain, that Nancy was sobbing too.

El had left inconsolable once, because Steve had asked multiples times if she could somehow contact you in the upside down. No one had realised, Steve had gotten El to agree one time, until she called Joyce crying because she couldn’t find you, and now she couldn’t get Steve to talk, he just had his head in his hands. But the next day, when El came to visit, with chocolates she always liked to give Steve since she heard they were good for making people happy, he’d apologised and she was herself quite easily again. Something Robin was very relieved with, knowing it would have wrecked Steve if he thought he’d hurt one of the kids.

Dustin had been turned away by Eddie before, on days Steve said he didn’t want to see anyone, which if he said that exactly, made people come over to check if he was okay. And on a day Steve wasn’t doing very well, and had Nancy and Robin bandaging his hands up because he’d punched a mirror, swearing he saw you in the reflection in a blink of his eye, and thinking for that split second maybe it was a gateway to the upside down. Although they were pretty relieved he realised that wasn’t the case straight away, no one wanted Dustin to see Steve like that, least of all Steve. But even Dustin’s visits, as the encouraging little brother, didn’t always bring a smile to Steve’s face, even a fake one he couldn’t muster. Some days, there was just little that could help.

Robin thought maybe Steve only sometimes thought this, even if there was a 0.5% chance always in the back of his head, that maybe, somehow, you were still alive somewhere. It wouldn’t matter where, because then Steve would find you. Robin wished more than anything they had your body, mostly for you, but also for Steve, and for all your friends and family. But she wasn’t going to risk anyone, to go on a suicide mission. And she didn’t want anyone else to leave Steve either. Steve wouldn’t always bring it up. But occasionally there’d be flare ups, where Steve would go on about how you could be out there. Robin was the one who’d decided she’d never flat out disagree with Steve if he got like that. He always needed one person he felt like he could always trust. So even though she never encouraged it, even if for the first week, and now she still had that 0.4% chance in the back of her mind, she’d more try to go through why Steve thought that, and be by his side as the others tried to explain.

But Robin felt at least slightly successful with every little breakthrough she and Steve had together. She was normally there for his, even if she wasn’t the one helping him get to that point anyways. But the biggest breakthrough came a night, where the day leading up to it had been pretty normal.

Keith had actually been very generous with bereavement leave for Steve, even indulging Robin every time Steve called the store in tears, panicking, and needing Robin back immediately. Today had been okay. None of them were good. But she’d come over about 9am, Eddie calling right before he knew she’d leave, to say he was dropping off McDonald’s breakfast for them both just before ten, because he had to go help his uncle with some errands today.

Robin had helped set out a fresh set of clothes for Steve, ones Nancy had left in a pile in his room yesterday afternoon when she’d been with him. Robin smiled at her little post it notes Nancy left around, for Steve, and for his friends around the house. But Robin setting out Steve’s clothes always helped kick him up just a notch enough to get out of bed and go shower. Eddie had stayed for fifteen minutes, and Steve had even watched this time as he and Robin threw hash browns off each other’s faces. Steve sometimes found it hard to watch, when other people were smiling. Robin had been really proud of him today.

Then Steve even picked out what they should have for lunch, and although Robin wasn’t sure Steve could exactly be craving a salad, she was still really happy he’d suggested something, and got to work on Nancy’s refrigerated Tupperware boxes and groceries. Nancy liked to cut things up when she had the time. Robin was pretty slow no matter what she had to cook, because otherwise she was clumsy, and no one liked to focus on something and leave Steve alone. Nancy probably chopped things up yesterday when Joyce came to visit Steve as well.

The one time Robin cut her finger when cooking for Steve with Eddie, Steve had had a full blown panic attack, but he also either thought it was your blood he was seeing, or remembered yours. Steve threw the knife to the side, grabbing Robin’s wrists and panicking, until she soothed him into remembering where he was, and who he was with, and that she was unharmed, and when Steve was back, Eddie could take him away for a second while Robin found the newly restocked first aid kit. The other times she’d hurt herself since, she’d hidden them from Steve’s sight very quickly.

Steve had picked between a variety of activities Robin suggested after lunch, and two person board and card games it had been. Everyone had been buying or donating games to the Harrington household, even the kids had been giving theirs over. So Steve never was bored of any of the games, and he could play them.

Hopper and Karen had actually both taught Steve how to play solitaire, when Mike and El had dropped off some more game to donate. A joke even Steve gave a breathy chuckle at when Eddie said there two people to explain the most famous one player game. But Robin was glad Steve might have something to do to take his mind off things when alone. She knew focusing could be hard sometimes right now for him, so she got that they both tried to explain the game. Also, Karen and Hopper did talk over each other quite a bit in explanation.

But after that, Robin had whipped something quick together for dinner, and Steve had stayed to talk with her in the kitchen the entire time. He even got out glasses and some soda. Even though Robin did most of the talking, Steve took part, which was good. But also, Steve liked talking with Robin. Because she’d talk so much, and be so passionate about what she was saying, he didn’t even need to say much to be part of the conversation, and it was something about his best friend he really appreciated at the moment, even though he used to joke about never getting a word in edgeways. Eddie was a bit the same.

Steve held the remote as they channel surfed, sitting on the couch together with their meals on their laps, since neither of them really liked the silence while eating, and Robin was pretty talked out after finishing her story in the kitchen.

But when Steve had flicked through two news channels, he froze as he immediately recognised the scene in front of him. It was from a romance film you loved, about two thirds of the way through. Steve recognised it from the first frame, from the first note of its score, as he turned over the channel.

Robin recognised it too, although she hadn’t watched it fully, and she hadn’t watched it nearly as many times as Steve had with you. She tried to keep her face blank as she looked to Steve, only a light questioning, curious expression, to see how he was feeling, before she let any of her own thoughts and feelings make him spiral. But Steve simply said “Gotta put something on, the food.” and picked up his fork, turning the volume up enough to cover any chewing sounds, like he’d done for Robin since the first time they watched tv and ate together. That had been long before he lost you.

Steve had finished quickly, but that was just a few scenes before the most important part of the romance film. The confession scene. And Steve was crying before it had even started.

Tears streamed down his face, the two leads finally starting to open up, and explain how they were really feeling. His eyes not even brown, but looking black, so big and red ridden, his cheeks drowned. Robin felt her heart hammering watching Steve crushed again, but she tried to be the best friend she possibly could, as she was always learning to now. Robin reached just a little for the remote on the coffee table, eyes questioning on Steve. But he turned to her and shook his head, so she leaned back and kept the movie on. Steve watched the film, as Robin watched both it and him. Scooting even closer, so their sides were pressed together, as Steve continued to cry. And then, even Robin was tearing up. Especially as the scene continued. And Robin wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist, her other holding his closest hip, and they both quietly sobbed watching the love confession scene, of your favourite romantic movie you’d watched a thousand times.

Just a scene you never got to live out in your young life. A scene Steve never gave you.

Steve turned to Robin as the couple shared their first kiss, the happy score coming on as the confession was over, it all goes well, and with the way Steve’s shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving, Robin knows he needs her. She immediately opens her arms, pulling Steve in who sobs heartily into her shoulder, all her shirts used to having snot and tears and spit on them now. And she cries too, quieter than Steve, but still all the same, as she rocks him, holding him close through his heart break, through his loss, through his pain, as Steve cries loud into his best friend.

Steve mumbles everything he’s said a thousand times over. How he’s lost you. How he needs you. How you can’t be gone. That Steve wants you. That you’re dead. And that word hits hard. That word took him a while to say, after the second day of screaming it.

And when Steve pulls back, and Robin holds him still, Steve looks deep into his best friends eyes, and he shakes as he tells her the one thing he still hasn’t said yet. “I loved them.”

And Robin rubs her hands up and down Steve’s arms, as she smiled so sadly, and wept so dearly. “I know.”

Steve hiccuped, and a small groan left him. Robin still smiling sadly, still stroking him. Steve looks down, but not a lot, and Robin can always tell Steve’s thoughts, even if it’s gotten harder now. Steve just wants to think.

“How did you?” He asks, sniffling, and swallowing.

Did you know too? Maybe if Robin knew... maybe you did too. Steve just wanted you to know. He should have given you that. But maybe if you knew... even if you didn’t feel the same way, maybe you knew somebody loved you, maybe you knew he saw you just like you did him, before you were stolen.

“Well first of all, you were very romantic, lover boy, always talking about them, always filling the world with your golden thoughts about them.”

Steve liked the way Robin spoke. He thought maybe she’d picked some stuff up from Eddie too. Even knowing his loving thoughts about you had been spoken into the world you’d been living in... even if it wasn’t the one your body was in now, it gave him just a flicker of hope. A bite less of guilt.

“And...” Robin faltered now. He hands falling to Steve’s wrists, and he looked up more inquisitive now.

“And they talked about their crush on you. It’d only been a couple of days before... into the whole upside down thing. Otherwise I’d have manoeuvred you two into each other as soon as I knew, even if I had to trick you and lock you dinguses in a room or something. But that’s all y/n talked about those days.

Steve sucked in air. People didn’t say your name much anymore. Probably scared of his reaction, but Steve missed it. He needed people to bring you up, to remember you, to say your name.

“All they talked about was how they’d been in love with you for years, but recently it was too much to bear, and they just had to tell you. I told them to go for it, that I thought you might realllly like them back! But, y/n wanted to wait to tell you after we saved the world.”

Robin looked up at Steve. He was still crying, and she was joining him again. Her hands squeezed his wrists, and Steve’s knees turned to face Robin those few centimetres more, leaning warmly against her own. “And I agreed. And I wanted to wait until you brought it up again. Until you said again, that you loved them, like you used to tell me every day.”

Robin had hoped it would be less painful that way. While Steve wished it had been you he’d been telling it to every day instead.

“And... was it the right thing to do?” Robin gasps for air with her sob, shaking under Steve now.

And his breaths were gasping, his best friends starting to mirror, as his head shook up and down. “Yeah... it was.”

Robin threw her arms around Steve again, and he moaned as he held her back, so so tightly. Gripping onto Robin’s shoulders like he’d never have to let go again, as Robin nearly scrambled on top of his legs. Both of them crying open mouthed into each others shoulders. Teeth and spit and tears latched on. Neither of the best friends caring about being any semblance of perfect, and not wrecked, not when they were with each other. And they held each other so tight, so hard, as if the grief in their hearts was a magnet, pushing them even closer, but Steve and Robin never wanted to let go of each other, to help the burden of that grief.

Steve and Robin missed you, so much.

[arcades-n-academia]

*whispers* are we, are we just not going to talk about it?