#robin buckley is so silly

[bisexualspidermansblog]

Robin Buckley tried the Grimace Shake

[loveinhawkins]

Sprawled across Steve’s couch, apropos of nothing, Robin says, “They’d be good Halloween costumes. Like, there’s three of us.”

Eddie blinks at her.

Robin blinks back, as if she’s being perfectly reasonable, as if she’s just continuing an ongoing conversation—when in reality, she’s been silently staring into space for the past minute.

“Buckley. Y’know I can’t actually read your mind, right?”

“Uh, no excuse,” Robin says disapprovingly. “Steve can do it just fine.”

“That’s a completely different—you do see how that’s—”

“It’s ‘cause Molly Pritchard,” Steve begins, in his honestly, catch up, Munson tone, “kept annoying the shit out of Robin—”

“Excuse me, that’s a blatant mischaracterisation and you know—”

“Annoying the shit out of you,” Steve repeats, undeterred.

Robin scoffs. “She kept going on, like, okay, we get it, you saw a Broadway show, whoop-de-doo—”

“Do I detect a note of jealousy, Buckley?” Eddie says, and hurriedly avoids Robin kicking him in the shin.

“No, she’s just completely detached from real life! Like, yeah, I’m sure Singin’ in the Rain was just wonderful, and oh, at the Gershwin, you say? Lucky you. Not all of us were having a positively darling Spring Break in New York, some of us were—” Robin breaks off, gesturing uncertainly before settling on, “Busy.”

“That’s one word for it,” Eddie says.

“Anyway, that wasn’t the—Molly Pritchard rambling on was just the, like, catalyst for—she wasn’t the point. The point is—” Robin stops again, flounders, then whacks Steve on the shoulder. “Steve, I had a point, where is it?”

“Halloween costumes,” Steve says patiently.

“Right! She reminded me, there’s, like, three leads right there. Sort of. We should do it, I’ve never really done group costumes before—”

“For the hypothetical Halloween party we haven’t been invited to,” Eddie points out.

“Shh, details. And they’re not, like, ridiculously complicated—Steve, you’ve definitely got a couple suits just lying around—”

“Why does that feel like an insult?” Steve asks the ceiling.

“But uh, Robin,” Eddie says, “I thought you hated wearing heels?”

A deafening silence.

“Well,” Robin replies eventually. “I don’t know what bright idea you’ve got going on in your head, Eddie Munson, but I’m gonna be Gene Kelly.”

Steve chuckles. “Attagirl,” he says, raising his drink in approval.

He’s drinking coke out of a wine glass—according to Steve, it suits him. Eddie half-hates the fact that he’s right.

“And then the only thing we’d have to really look out for would be tap shoes, and we could—”

“Woah, hold your horses,” Steve says. “We’re definitely getting kicked outta the hypothetical party.”

“Why?” Eddie says. “Does Hawkins hate musicals now, too?”

“Tap shoes,” Steve says, as if Eddie’s being particularly dense. “Dude, we’re gonna, like, immediately scratch up the floor. We could only walk on carpet, and then what’s the point of wearing tap shoes in the first—”

“That’s… a very specific problem,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Robin says with narrowed eyes. “Very specific.”

Steve shifts in his seat. “No, it’s not. I just—I just know things, sometimes. Sue me.”

“Yeah, you do,” Robin says. Her eyes are still narrowed. “You know many things, Steve. But why do you know this particular—”

“I just do! There’s no—”

“I think,” Robin declares, “we should all put on our deerstalkers—”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I regret ever introducing you to Dustin.”

“—to figure out exactly why you know that.”

Robin looks at Eddie pointedly.

Eddie assesses Steve, then shrugs. “Uh, he’s really protective over floorboards?”

Steve’s veneer of exasperation completely melts away; he snorts, and Eddie pretends he doesn’t feel the achievement flutter in his chest.

“Hopeless,” Robin says, stretching out languidly. “Completely and utterly—”

She sprints out of the room.

“Wha—Robin,” Steve says indignantly, but he’s laughing, jumps up from the couch and grins at Eddie as if to say come on, then. “Get back here!”

Eddie laughs too, following Steve up the stairs, into his bedroom, where Robin’s pulling things out of the closet with gleeful abandon.

“if my theory is correct…” she says, head barely visible.

“You really have been spending too much time with Dustin,” Steve mutters.

“Aha!”

And Robin emerges with a shoebox in her hands, and she’s opening it up, tossing out tissue paper, and then—

Steve groans.

Eddie’s lips twitch. “Oh.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says entirely without heat.

“I was right,” Robin crows. She holds the little pair of tap shoes as if they’re made of glass. “Steve. Steve.”

“Oh, you can shut up, too.”

“They’re precious.”

“No, they’re not—”

“Eddie’ll back me up, won’t you, Eddie?” Robin says sweetly.

Steve gives him a faux warning look. “Don’t encourage her, man.”

And Eddie has a joke right on the tip of his tongue, he swears he does, but his eyes are fixed on the goddamn shoes, and he can’t stop his fond smile from showing; his heart does a weird but not unpleasant skip in his chest, and what comes out is—

“You were tiny.”

Steve flushes. “What, did you think I just popped into existence at school?”

“Sometimes,” Eddie says, tongue-in-cheek.

Steve chuckles, face still red; Eddie’s heart sings.

Robin’s placing the tap shoes back into their box, oh so carefully. “Steve, please tell me there’re photos of—oh, there are,” she says triumphantly, as Steve groans again. “You gonna show us? Please?” “Uh, no,” Steve says firmly—and oh, Eddie thinks, that absolutely means he’s gonna cave by the time dawn peeks through the curtains and show them a whole damn album.

Robin seems to know this too, because she beams before setting off again, this time beckoning them, “Come on, come on! We can practice in our socks so we won’t scratch the precious floor, Steve.”

“Uh, practice?” Eddie asks.

“The choreography, duh.”

“Wait,” Steve says, “how do you even remember the—”

“The Hawk showed it once. They did a whole classic movies theme sometimes.”

Eddie vaguely remembers that: the theme ended with a showing of It’s A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve.

And they give a hilariously bad attempt at the choreography, laughing at their socks muffling the sound of their heavy footsteps.

They wobble precariously on the top of the couch, spill coke all down the back of it. Every so often, Eddie notices that Steve’s hand is holding onto his shoulder for balance, for a little longer than is strictly necessary.

And he feels…

Light. Giddy.

God, it’s the most fun he’s had in years.

[moonriverrise]

Dreams are supposed to be subtle messages from your subconscious, right? Then why the hell did Eddie keep having the same type of dream every single night. The same dream featuring the same boy with chestnut hair, doe eyes, and freckles sprinkled all over.

He didn’t know the boys name, but he’s around Eddie’s age based on looks. His hair is styled in a certain way, swooped to the side almost perfectly. He’s pretty strong looking and pale skinned, and has the most wonderful laugh Eddie has ever heard.

In the dreams that Eddie had, he meets this boy under a tree in a long sunflower field. He’s always there before Eddie, sitting with his back against the trunk of the tree, staring at the sky or simply laying with his eyes shut.

Whenever Eddie came up to him, he was greeted with the same phrase every time, no matter what differences are in the dreams.

“Hello, Sunshine. How are you?”

It's sweet, and it warmed Eddie’s heart in a way he never thought something could. Then Eddie would sit down and they would have conversations about their lives. Because, this boy had a life, probably something Eddie’s brain made up.

“Oh, and Dust thinks he’s so much better than me just because he’s good at Algebra. Who the fuck is good at Algebra?!”

The boy is entertaining, he’s funny, pretty, charismatic. One dream he has, turns a bit different after the greeting, which is said more solemnly. Soon afterwards, the boy asks Eddie something.

“Have you ever kissed a boy before?” He asked. Eddie has paused.

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm…do you ever think you might like boys the way you like girls?” And Eddie had to pause again, because, thats how he had felt. That’s the questions he thought about, the ones he had asked Uncle Wayne.

“All the time.” Eddie responded.

“Is it..normal?” Eddie looked over to the boy, who looks nervous, scared.

“Of course. You can like whoever you want. People who don't think that are stuck up pricks.” Eddie expressed. The boy had laughed, gently. Then laid his head against Eddie’s shoulder, and then shut his eyes.

“I have a friend, you know that one I mentioned, Robbie?” Eddie hummed. “She likes girls, only girls. I want to tell her about this, but I'm afraid. Even though I know she couldn't possibly be mean, I just don't want to be abandoned.” Eddie sighed.

“It’s okay. You just need to take your time with it, talk yourself through it.” Eddie advised.

“Sunshine?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie had paused, once again. He looked over at the boy, who looked up at him in response, through his lashes.

Eddie traced his face with his eyes, placed a gentle hand on his face, rubbed a thumb against the boys skin, who let his eyes blink closed. He leaned into Eddie’s touch, embraced him, his being.

Eddie leaned closer to the boys face. The wind whistled loudly, and birds sang in the background. Eddie let his other hand cup the boys face, and their lips met, slowly.

It was slow, but deep. Gentle, yet hungry. They parted and Eddie stared into the boys eyes, as tears settled in them. A brief flash of panic runs through Eddie’s blood…

The boy laughed, giggled like a birds song. He wiped his eyes and whispered into Eddie’s ear.

“Thank you, for all that you are.”

Eddie’s eyes had fluttered open that morning, and he felt comforted with a sense of kindness and the ghost of tender lips against his own.

Then, Eddie got up, and got dressed, ready to go to work at the cafe down the street from his apartment in Indianapolis.

Dustin walked up to him during his shift, he was wearing a hat from that summer camp he’d gone to a few years back.

“Hey Eddie,” He said.

“Hello, Henderson.” Eddie responded, giving him a look.

“Wow! Don't have to be hostile!” Dustin joked. “You know my buddy i've been meaning to introduce you to?”

“Your babysitter?” Eddie asked while pouring creamer into a cup of coffee.

“Yeah! Steve! He’s here, sitting next to me and Robin over there.” Eddie didn’t follow where he was pointing, instead decided to focus on throwing a portable cup onto the coffee then calling out the order number as he slid it across the counter.

“Alright, hold on dude. Gare! Can you take order for just a second! I'll be back in a minute!” Gareth groaned but begrudgingly walked over to the cash register. “Thank you, I promise to spare your next character in Hellfire.”

“You better, man.” Gareth responded as Eddie walked out to meet Dustin.

They both walked over to the table and Eddie froze entirely when he meets eyes with someone so familiar.

It's the boy from his dreams.

“Okay, Eddie this is Steve. Steve this is Eddie.” Eddie waved a hand in Dustin’s face to shut him up.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Steve. that was his name. He asked him that, and Eddie nodded slowly.

“I know you from somewhere too,” He responded. Steve’s eyes went a bit wide, and he stood, facing Eddie.

“Sunshine?” Eddie nodded, vigorously.

“Guys…” Eddie shunned Dustin with his hands again.

“Robbie is Robin- the gay friend?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Dust…that’s Henderson?” He nodded again.

“What the hell?-” Robin spoke up. Steve shushed her.

“You look exactly how you did before.” Eddie said to him. Steve smiled.

“You look even brighter in person,”

[kiwibirbkat]

"I love you." Robin's eyes were dead, emotionless. Her eyebags only added to the effect, like straight charcoal was rubbed underneath her eyes. Like she hadn't slept in a week. And she probably hadn't, Steve remembered. Her voice was raspy from misuse, the only sounds Steve had heard her say since he found her being screams and those three simple words. He held her bloody hand, rubbing the joints on her fingers. Too thin fingers. He suddenly realized she wouldn't have had anything to eat all week unless she was eating the monsters corpse.

His eyes trailed down her arms. Covered in inhuman bites and scratches. He could feel splinters in her fingers. That explained the mediocre stake she had. That she swapped for her hands halfway through the fight. He shivered, remembering the gruesome fate that the monsters were doomed to. Even evil creatures didn't deserve such a horrible death. He glanced at the desecrated corpses surrounding them. What had she gone through to make her fight like... THAT?

The thing that really caught his attention was the cut on her forehead. A large scratch, mediocrely covered by a strip of her jacket.

With a start, he realized he hadn't responded. "I..." His voice cracked with emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled her into a bone crushing hug, breaking down sobbing. "I love you too..." He mumbled into her shoulder.

The corpses surrounding them didn't matter anymore. The sulfur in the air of the upsidedown didn't matter anymore. Not even the fact that they were still in the upsidedown and anything could attack them at any moment mattered. The only thing that mattered was Robin back in his arms.

OR Robin gets dragged into the upside-down and can't be found for a week. Steve finds her and they fight a pack of demidogs (more of Steve watching in horror as Robin decimated them)

[sweetronancer]

guys..

spot the difference!!! (impossible)

[penny00dreadful]

This is so fucking stupid and I'm not sorry. Inspired by this video of the two guitarists from DragonForce taking the piss out of Sabaton(affectionately).

Jeffington: Just ended your whole career on live 😘

Eddie scrunched his eyes closed then wrenched them open again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing on his screen. It was too early in the fucking morning for this shit. 

Whatever.

He buried his face back in between Steve’s shoulders and allowed himself to fall asleep once more.

Corroded Coffin had only started making it big in the early 90’s when they split right down the middle. As time went on they started to drift towards different subgenres. Jeff and Grant had wanted to explore a more international sound, while Gareth and Eddie were happy to stay in the power metal scene with just a touch of neoclassical. 

They had tried to make it work, but the sounds were just too different and while Eddie and Grant wanted to continue on with lyrics full of fantasy and gothic romance, Jeff and Grant had wanted to focus more on ‘the human condition’.

So they separated. Eddie and Gareth had kept the Corroded Coffin name while Jeff and Grant travelled, exploring their sound.

There was no animosity. They were all still the best of friends. Even as Jeff and Grant had settled in Stockholm, where they had quickly shot to stardom with their new band members, Eddie and Gareth made their home in California enjoying their own success. They met up as often as they could, whenever tour dates aligned or they were booked into the same festivals.

Eddie and Steve were godfathers to Grant’s youngest daughter.

He and Gareth had been groomsmen in Jeff’s wedding.

They were solid.

Which was why the text from Jeff was more exasperating than worrying. 

Plus it was like… nine in the morning which, granted, wasn't early, early but Eddie was a damn rockstar.

And he might have lost track of time reading last night and stayed up until four but that's besides the point. 

But then Steve was handing him his morning coffee with a kiss, saying Robin had sent him a link to something and fine. He’d go watch whatever stupid shit Jeff pulled.

Eddie settled back into bed because he could and it was a Sunday.

Sue him.

But he couldn’t decide if he should be fake-mad or wildly entertained because the link Robin had sent opened the VOD about an hour into the stream, just in time for Grant to say “Should we do Corroded Coffin?”

Both Jeff and Grant were sitting in Jeff’s studio space in front of Jeff’s computer with a range of instruments behind them, grinning at each other.

“Oh shit, definitely!” Jeff stood and seemed to think about it for a second before picking up one of his guitars, a bright acid green with black tendrils running throughout. “The most dramatic of the bunch,” he leaned into the mic, gesturing at the guitar before taking his seat again, “just like their frontman.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

“You think you can shred like Munson?” Grant asked, leaning forward and starting to tap out drum beats on the laptop.

Jeff scoffed. “Yeah right. Let me just play at five-fucking-thousand bpm and sing at the same time. It’s gonna be an approximation at best.”

Surprisingly enough the music they came up with did sound very close to Corroded Coffin’s sound. Grant relied heavily on the kick-drum and high hat to a ridiculous degree for Gareth's part and yeah, fair.

Gareth did love his high hat.

Jeff played the fastest guitar riff he could muster which honestly wasn’t that bad. He couldn’t go quite as hard as Eddie could but guitar was always Eddie’s first love and he was a master at his craft. Jeff gave the camera a cheeky wink as he used the computer to speed the guitar solo up, making it sound far more complex.

“I swear to god,” Eddie muttered to himself, “if they insinuate that I do that, I’ll fucking-”

“Eddie would never.” Jeff said, responding to someone in the chat who’d asked that very question.

Grant looked up with a sly smile. “Oh, god no. He’d never. He’s too proud for that.”

Cheeky bastards.

“You know what this needs?”

“Female backing vocals?”

“Yes!" Jeff snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Like something pulled from Jackson’s Lord of the Rings!”

“Oh come on!” Eddie pouted, but even still he could tell they weren’t actually making fun.

A notification popped up on Eddie’s phone.

Gare-Bear: Have you watched the stream?

Eddie: Watching right now. They’re starting on the lyrics.

Gare-Bear: Did Robin send you the link?

Eddie: Yeah.

Gare-Bear: Okay, keep watching.

Eddie: 👍

By the time the guys had hashed the lyrics out, punctuating them with high falsetto points that freaked Jeff’s cats out, Eddie was giggling into his coffee. The lyrics were so comically bad but they were so Corroded Coffin at the same time.

I wear armour and I am sad. I'm all alone and I am sad.  Such a lone wolf am I.  Except I'm not because here comes this hot man who's totally not my husband. Bats and demons and darkness and death. Bow down to me.  Kneel before me.  I am your master.  This is about sex. Oh, look, a dragon! I'll suck your blood then I'll fuck you through the wall. Except I won't because you're an allegory for my husband again. I'll fuck him instead. Every song involves him in some way. Because I'm a big fucking sap.

And then it happened. That crafty wench.

A message popped up in the chat.

BuckyBirdie: Needs more dick sucking lyrics.

“Holy shit.” Grant whipped out his phone. “R- Birdie? Is that you? Stay right there, hold on.”

While Jeff continued to play through the guitar, Grant disappeared, raising the phone to his ear before coming back a few minutes later and whispering something to Jeff.

Jeff’s whole face split into the most mischievous of smiles and Eddie only had time to think oh no before Robin’s face appeared, joining the stream with a tired if not slightly manic expression, all topped off by her yummy sushi pyjamas.

The first thing Grant said to her was “What fucking time is it over there, Birdie?” 

“I dunno.” She shrugged, looking down at her watch. “Like half six in the morning?”

“Oh. Could be worse then.”

“I haven’t slept yet.” She said with a bright smile.

“Dude! Why not?”

“I got into cryptography again last night and I haven’t stopped. Don’t tell Steve.”

Oh, I am so telling Steve. Eddie thought to himself.

“God. What a fuckin’ nerd.” Jeff punctuated his statement with a loud strum of his guitar.

Robin stuck her tongue out. “Takes one to know one.”

“Ouch. Right in my middle schooler heart.”

“Anyway, a little birdie told me you boys need some backing vocals?”

Eddie didn’t know how he was going to get her back for this, but he was sure he’d be able to figure something out eventually.

Like banging pots and pans in her hallway while she slept off her cryptography binge.

Though it was almost worth the hilarity because noted lesbian Robin Buckley happily sat there, singing about dick and tongues and assholes in a high ethereal voice that was then layered behind Jeff's.

By the end, the chat was going wild asking when it was going to be available to stream because even though it was a parody song, it was annoyingly catchy. Just before they signed off, Jeff and Grant let their audience know they’d ask Eddie and Gareth for permission before they’d do anything.

Eddie minimised the video and opened up his chat with Gareth.

Eddie: You wanna let them release it?

Gare-Bear: Fuck yeah!

Eddie: Awesome.

[scroofy-was-here]

okay steve harrington's character development is kinda wild, he goes from being an unlikable jock to a freaking mom?!?! and a dork?!?! those are like, polar opposites, what happened lmaoo

[slashergirlnancy]

rovickie + Bottoms AU

[i-wheeley-like-you]

imagine robin taking up soccer again and nancy watching all of her games and documenting them

[adankrivervalleynearyou]

stranger things as character ai pt. 4

fruity four because yeah

[vexdiaries]

they mean a lot to me (AGRODBSKAHOA SOSBAAVAIHASPBQOQUWTQOAN)

please ignore my lack of shading knowledge!! 🎉

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Horse (Discord Drabble) haven't done one of these in like a week. i'm back with a very silly Fruity Four-centric one. aaand it's too long, as per usual.

When Nancy agreed to accept some help with packing up her room for college, she didn't think that meant refereeing Robin and Eddie fighting over the contents of her wardrobe.

Thankfully, she'd already set aside the clothes she would be taking with her.

Exactly why Eddie (whose lightest coloured piece of clothing is a Hellfire shirt) and Robin (wearer of only the most oversized clothes) are snatching a baby pink cardigan back and forward, she'll never know.

Steve isn't helping, either. He isn't helping at all, really. In fact, he is currently mimicking the incoherent squabbling via Nancy's favourite teddy bear as he lounges on her bed.

"Why would you need this?" Robin demands, taking the cardigan back.

Before Eddie can answer, Nancy decides to dump the bottom drawer of her dresser on the end of the bed. The mattress bounces and Steve yelps as his silly pantomime is interrupted.

"How about you actually help me with this one?" she says, forcing a smile.

The pair turn their attention to the drawer and Robin tosses the cardigan at Steve, who hasn't so much manned the clothes as he has gradually scattered the separated piles.

"Can I have this one, please?" Eddie soon asks.

He unfurls a pastel purple t-shirt emblazoned with a white horse. The animal is surrounded by silver clouds, a rainbow and pink sequins that have loosened from extensive wear years back.

He shoots a glance at Robin, who is busy tossing old t-shirts she likely doesn't want from the drawer off towards the doorway.

"Sparkles," Eddie hisses, giving a far too cherubic smile.

"Fine," Nancy says, waving her hand.

At least he bothered with some manners this time!

"Were you a horse girl?" Robin grins, now paying attention as she lazily points to the image Eddie is now smoothing over his front.

"Major horse girl," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he slumps back on the bed and sends a bag of old shoes toppling onto the floor.

Eddie moves to the desk, the only spot in her room Nancy is waiting to pack up at the last possible moment and retrieves a pair of scissors.

"What are you doing!" she whines.

Can't he save the tailoring for when he gets home!

"I don't want this for the sleeves," Eddie snaps over his shoulder, sounding utterly offended as he continues cutting, "Or the bottom, really."

And so he rips the bottom off, tosses it on the desk and removes his black t-shirt, hurling it at Steve's head. Steve doesn't catch it as he gawks at the sight of Eddie wrestling on his too-tight, new-old (and now, mangled) horse shirt.

"Keep it together, Dingus," Robin quips, launching herself onto the bed which tips the drawer over.

[moog-enthusiast]

instagram told me who reminded them of me :)

call me crazy but i’m sensing a bit of a theme here…

[snowangeldotmp3]

sunlight creeping in

(a gift for @silvereyedsankta and for the extraterrestrial ronancetober prompt)

or; a supergirl robin tale

“So…” she starts, and Robin suddenly realizes she might not be the only nervous one. “You’re Supergirl.” “The one and only,” Robin laughs anxiously. Nancy’s eyes narrow, and Robin suddenly realizes she’s entered an interrogation. Nancy tilts her head to the side. “Why the glasses? That doesn’t seem like much of a disguise. Especially for a secret this big.” The nervousness melts from Robin, and she quirks a brow. “Fooled you, didn’t it?”

[sweetronancer]

i love my blorbos

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

wishing the wonderful @flowercrowngods the happiest of birthdays 🥳🫶🤍 fair warning this quickly turned from 5k to 10 🙈 i hope it's not too boring 🤞 i tried my hardest to give you the angsty fic you asked for but i don't think it's my forte 🤷‍♀️ anyway happy birthday darling i hope you're having the best day 🤍

Steve's birthday started the same as all his birthdays had for as long as he could remember now; waking alone in his big old, empty house. Not that he could say he minded. His first ten birthdays had been pretty perfect, but his eleventh birthday changed everything. The only thing he'd asked for was a birthday sleepover with Tommy and his new school friends. It was all going amazing until late into the night, he and Tommy were laid awake, Tommy was telling him about how he was nervous to kiss Carol for the first time, when somehow, in a way Steve couldn't really remember, one of them had ended up suggesting that they practice together. 

They'd snuck off to the airing cupboard across the hall so their friends wouldn't see, what they hadn't considered was getting caught by Steve's parents. His mum hadn't said anything, just left quickly, leaving his dad to glare at him with that creepy polite smile he always had whenever Steve was going to get it as soon as they were alone. And he had, as soon as the house was empty, his dad yelled and yelled and yelled; about how kissing boys was unacceptable, how it was a sin, "Harrington's are family men, Steven!" A direct quote from the serial adulterer. 

It went on for two whole days, and then they never spoke of it again as though it'd never happened, but Steve wasn't allowed another sleepover nor was he allowed over to any of the other boys houses; which was how by his late teens he only had Tommy and Carol left as friends, they were the only ones who truly knew what went off in his house. And his birthday's hadn't been a big deal ever again, half the time his parents hadn't bothered to even be in the country; not that it made any difference to Steve, a birthday without their presence and constant judgement was already a happier day.

His alarm clock blaring pulled him from his musings back to the present. Not that he'd really needed the alarm, he rarely slept these days; it was more like a series of naps interspersed with part memories, part overactive imagination-induced night terrors. He poked an arm out of the covers, flicking the switch on the clock, yawning and stretching; feeling the pull on his freshly healed wounds. Clambering out of bed and scratching lazily at the stubble on his jawline as he headed into the en-suite; flicking on the stereo as he passed by just for something to fill the void.

Holding Back The Years was just beginning, as it often was these days. The one nighttime DJ who'd bothered to stick around seemed to think the song said "holding back the tears, because nothing here is gone." Idiot! The moron had some whole elaborate deluded idea that the song was some kind of metaphor to do with living with the aftermath of the quake or something, repeating the same nonsense every morning like if he kept saying it his theory would become true. 

Steve, however, had actually listened to the lyrics and recognised Mick (Hucknall) as a kindred spirit. He heard the pain of a child longing for parents that loved him, felt the pain for his younger self deep in his soul. He'd long since accepted that he'd never have that, that they'd had him solely for their image and let him go as soon as he didn't fit, but the song tended to just rip open the wound every time he heard it.

He turned on the shower, biting down hard on his lip to stop it quivering, testing the temperature with his hand and stepping under the spray. He knew they weren't worth being upset over, but it didn't take much to tip him over the edge these days, and he was very much hoping, as he had every morning, that this ritual he'd started would wash away the deep-seated sadness that he seemed to have stuck in his chest since the day they'd fought and lost. 

In a weird way his life was better now, sure he had flesh eating creatures and an alternate universe, but he also had people who loved him, people who appreciated him and depended on him. The scars of his shitty past didn't matter any more, not in the face of actual scars, not when the monster hunting them down was still out there, not when the people he loved needed someone to protect them.

He made quick work of washing his body, still gentle around his wounds. Eddie's exquisite sewing skills had more than done the trick at the time but all the strain he'd put on his body getting the five of them out of hell had ripped new holes into his skin and made a bigger mess than the bats ever had; it was only when he collapsed in the ER that any of them had even noticed he was bleeding again, the nurses had patched him back together, but his body was still tender. 

Just as he was shampooing his hair, the song changed again, only just about hearing Cyndi Lauper over the patter as he applied his conditioner. "If you're lost you can look, and you will find me, time after time", fresh tears quickly blurred his vision. Max. 

They'd been told off for the fifth time about having too many people visiting at once, Wendy threatened to never let any of them step foot in the building again, and they believed her too, just as the adults who still had jobs and needed to work had finally accepted that the kids could be there to be with the wounded in case they woke up. Nancy had sighed heavily but resigned herself to the job, not that it had taken her long to set up a visiting schedule; ten minutes of leaning over bits of paper with visiting times, days people could chauffeur, work and volunteer schedules, working out who could sit with who and when and she'd had it all figured out. 

They were just getting into the swing of things when El had snapped, hurling a plastic chair into the hospital wall, blood pouring from her nose, sucking in breaths like she'd just run a marathon before actually running from the room. Steve hadn't seen it happen, just heard the commotion through the wall and came running. No one had wanted to go after her; Mike, Dustin and Lucas all looking between each other like they were psychically discussing who'd drawn the short straw. 

Steve didn't bother to wait to find out what they'd decided, he'd just chased after her, finding her curled up in a ball in the corner of the corridor. He hadn't known what to say at first, "are you okay?" seemed like the dumbest question ever given the state of her. Plus he'd seen the two of them together when they'd had their day trip to the mall, he knew she was far from okay. He'd just knelt down beside her and wrapped her tightly in his arms when she'd mushed her face into his chest, stroking her back and rocking her slowly. 

Using his well versed technique of 'What Would Robin Do?' he asked what had happened. She just looked up at him with big sad eyes, a sob catching in her throat, her face crumpling as she'd broken down. Telling him that she couldn't find Max, that she'd been trying ever since she'd restarted Max's heart (with her mind!) but that she couldn't find her. She'd made him promise not to tell the others and as soon as he agreed, she'd promptly burst into uncontrollable sobs before he'd even had a chance to ask what that meant. All he could do was hope that Max wasn't either gone forever; or worse, stuck with One, enduring unimaginable torment.

The song had changed again as Steve switched off the water, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel securely around his waist. Switching on the tap to run a bowl of water and grabbing the shaving foam and his razor from the medicine cabinet; glancing as quickly and as efficiently as he could in the mirror, doing his best to avoid his own reflection. He knew he looked rough, he didn't need confirmation. The scars around his neck were gnarly, his eyes were bloodshot with thick black bags underneath, his hair limp and uncared for, obvious even fresh from the shower. Ugh!

He let Billy Ocean's soulful voice wash over him, focusing on making neat lines in the foam and trying his best not to nick himself. It wasn't a song he'd heard before, but he liked it, the tune was gentle, he found himself swaying slightly, waiting with the razor poised, "I always stop and think of you especially, when the words of a love song, touch the very heart of me". Huh!

He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, he was going to be late if he didn't get a move on and the less he thought about love songs making him cry, the better. The song ended, and the DJ signed off letting the commercials play. Steve headed into his bedroom, half-heartedly blow-drying his hair just enough to stop it dripping down his collar, throwing on his jeans and sweater. 

Flicking off the radio, he jogged down the stairs, clicking the red flashing button on the answering machine as he passed the telephone table on the way to the kitchen to throw some bread in the toaster. The last time he'd seen Joyce, she'd made him promise that he'd eat, so he was eating, dry toast wasn't his favourite thing in the whole world, but it was nourishment.

Beep. "Dingus!" Robin whispered into the phone, causing Steve to grin, "it's one minute past twelve, so I can officially say Happy Birthday! Okay, that's all I wanted. See you later, love you." Beep.

Beep. "Steve-o! Happy Birthday! See you later, man!" Beep. That kid, Steve thought shaking his head fondly to himself.

Beep. "Happy Birthday, Steve!" El mumbled, she barely spoke these days. He felt honoured. She was quickly interrupted by Hop, "Is that Steve?" he asked, "No, just the machine," she responded followed by sounds of the receiver being passed from one person to another, "Happy Birthday, kiddo, we'll see you later, okay?" Beep.

Steve couldn't fight the lump in his throat, he tried to swallow around it, but it wasn't going anywhere. They were just… he didn't have the words. It meant so much that they'd thought of him. That Robin had snuck out of bed, had probably sat up by the phone until the clock struck midnight to make sure he knew she was thinking of him. She really was the best friend he'd ever had.

And the kids! Dustin calling was probably what had woken him. He didn't know when he'd decided on Steve-o as a nickname, but he liked it regardless, it made him feel like one of the gang instead of just the babysitter. With El, Steve wasn't sure whether it was a teenage phase or not being able to find Max, but he'd barely heard a peep out of her since her breakdown, he just hoped it wasn't the latter, so they wouldn't lose both girls to this fight.

He pressed replay, warmth filling him as he listened to Robin's message again. He missed her terribly when they weren't together, and he'd seen less and less of her recently. She'd basically been on house arrest since the "quake" and given she wasn't ready to tell her parents what she'd told Steve whilst high on truth serum, Mr and Mrs Buckley basically thought he was about to become their son-in-law. 

Unfortunately, it meant he couldn't sneak over to her house to sleep any more like he had after the mall and the one time Robin had snuck out to sleep at his, her dad had been so worried he'd called the cops. Luckily, Hop had been the one to get the call, sighing heavily when he'd picked her up from the McMansion (as Steve's house had been dubbed by the kids) with a "Sorry kid, but her mom's practically hysterical. Come stay at the cabin, get a good night's rest."

For once, Steve had done as he was told. The Party was tighter than ever, but there were still the few with families who got caught on the edge's that kept the group from becoming a totally codependent pack. None of them slept well any more, not without being curled around one of the others. Robin and Dustin had it bad, unable to explain what was going on and trapped by parents who loved them too much to let them out of their sight, but Steve thought Erica had it the worst.

Lucas was out of his mind with worry over Max, her parents were holding her tighter than ever and her best friend had moved away. She couldn't use sleepovers as an excuse to escape her family's grasp like Robin and Dustin could, she was having terrible nightmares, lashing out and blaming everyone for the state of Max's health, Steve just wished she’d let it out properly before she exploded. He'd tried to get her to once, used one of Robin's new psychology tricks but got nothing out of her but some sassy comment and a glare.

His toast popping out of the toaster dragged him out of his musings, tucking the dry, warm bread into a napkin, he grabbed his keys off the hook and headed out to the car. The sun was barely in the sky, but it was already unbearably warm, he was glad to be spending the day indoors. He liked being out early, the world seemed almost peaceful before the rest of the town had a chance to get out of bed. Normally he'd drive without the radio on, just with the window rolled down, letting the breeze finish drying his hair, enjoying the sounds of the world waking up, the birds singing, the wind rustling the trees, the roar of the beemers engine, but that damn song had turned into an earworm, just that little bit of melody and "saying I love you, I love you" whizzing around and around his head.

He sighed and flicked the radio on, the funky beat of Kiss making his head bounce, only being able to resist for a second before he was smacking the steering wheel in time with the beat. Steve couldn't think about much else with Prince singing in his ears, the sun beating down on his arm that dangled out of the open window, warming him as he bopped along. "I want to be your fantasy, maybe you could be mine. You just leave it all up to me, we could have a good time!" Steve hollered along, catching the attention of old Mr Baker, who was bent down collecting his paper as he sped by. He smirked at the old man's face as he caught him grumbling in the rearview mirror, making Steve chuckle.

The song was just ending as he pulled into the parking lot, it was always blissfully empty this early, just the cars of the staff and the overnight visitors. He threw the car into park as Let's Hear It For The Boy started, he contemplated sitting in the car just to listen, but he knew the song well enough, and he was edging ever closer to being late. Steve found he almost had a spring in his step as he switched off the engine and clambered out of the car, being careful as he crossed the road, the peppy tune well and truly stuck in his head. 

He waved to Edna at the front desk as he headed for the stairs (no way was he getting in a lift ever again, not after the last time) hearing Deniece Williams clearly in his mind as he turned the corner and all but hopped up the staircase, muttering "Maybe he's no Romeo, but he's my love and one man show, oh oh oh oh, let's hear it for the boy!" pausing on the step to wiggle along to the music in his head. One of the nurse's smirked at him as she skipped down the stairs, passing him with a giggle. Not that he minded he'd been reliably informed he was a good dancer, it did make him wonder if maybe he was finally losing it though, taking the rest of the steps two at a time, shaking his head trying to clear it. This is a hospital, for god's sake! What’s wrong with you?

Drifting quickly down the corridor, Steve gave a quick nod to Nurse Wendy, she was one of Owens’ and seemed to find the hospital environment rather alien, she didn't appreciate anything other than cordiality and silence while she worked. Sliding open the door, Steve found Wayne sitting as he always was in an uncomfortable plastic chair by Eddie's bedside; chatting aimlessly to his nephew and yawning every few words. 

He, Dustin and Steve had become close over the past few weeks, each taking turns to keep Eddie company. Wayne hadn’t wanted Steve anywhere near his nephew at first, not that Steve had been surprised by his reaction, hurt maybe but unsurprised. Wayne had relented when Dustin had regaled him with Steve’s “heroism” but Robin had been the one to convince Wayne that Steve was their friend, that he wasn't the dickhead jock who'd stood by and done nothing as Tommy had made Eddie's life hell; and that he was certainly nothing like the elder Harrington. Wayne had relented quickly, had warmed to Steve faster than he'd ever dared to hope, now he thought Wayne might even like him, just a little bit, even if it was because as Wayne put it, "well, at least you've got better taste in sports than you had in friends".

"G'Mornin'" Steve greeted, once Wayne finished with his tale. His stories were amazing, at first he’d started with just random tales but eventually when they realised it was going to take longer than any of them hoped for Eddie to wake, he’d started as far back as he could remember and was just slowly retelling his whole life story. Steve thought he should write a book, his life was fascinating and the more he listened, the more it was obvious where Eddie had got his storytelling abilities.

"Mornin'" Wayne returned, stretching his back before standing with a creak and a groan.

"No change?" Steve asked, looking over to Eddie's pale, sleeping form.

"No change," Wayne confirmed with a sigh.

Steve hummed, just watching Eddie for a second, hoping for a twitch, a flicker, anything really. Just any sign of life that he'd been praying for since cracked ribs and a ten minute repeat of “one and two and three” and screams to “drive faster!” Eddie didn't move, not more than the slow rise and fall of his gentle breathing that hadn't changed since he got out of surgery; Wayne did though, patting Steve on the shoulder as he passed by him with a quiet "G'night, son," successfully snapping Steve back into the moment. 

He turned quickly to catch Wayne on his way out, a fragile smile on his face and a lump forming in his throat, "Night, Wayne. Drive safe," Steve pleaded quietly. Wayne was as much one of them as Eddie was now, and the last thing any of them needed was more heartache. Wayne nodded with a slight smile, closing the door with a quiet snick, the noise kicking Steve into action; he rounded the bed picking up the tattered copy of The Hobbit off the bedside table and landing heavily in the still warm chair and flipping the book open in his lap.

Wayne might be a natural storyteller but not Steve, his childhood stories were either sad or stupid, but none of that mattered because here in this little cold side room all Steve could think was a repeat of please wake up. 

He was taking his first shift of watching over Eddie when he'd first spotted the book sticking out the top of the bag Wayne had brought for Eddie when he’d heard he was in the hospital. Honestly, Steve thought it looked like more of a go bag; Max’s bag was full of pyjamas and a dressing gown and slippers, a soft toy or two and some of her comics. Eddie’s bag was full of clothes, at least four pairs of jeans, a couple hoodies, a winter coat, underwear and cassettes. And the book, of course.

Steve wasn't much of a reader, he’d always hated assignments at school where reading an actual book was necessary, but he couldn't stand the silence, and he couldn't think of anything to say and Owens had said the best thing they could do was keep talking to him so he'd started to read. He was rubbish at it, stumbling every few words and making humming sounds every time he came across a word he didn't know or couldn't pronounce, but it filled the silence and given how dog-eared the pages were it was obviously a favourite of Eddie's, so he could only hope it was bringing him some comfort, wherever he was.

"Good morning, Edwin. How're you feeling, hmm? Comfy? It's a lovely day today, blue skies and green leaves, it's gonna be a warm one. It's my birthday, you know? Robin left a nice message, and the kids too. I wonder if I'll get a cake? I've never had a birthday with real friends before! I don't really know what to expect, but you've had your little club for a long time, you'd know, maybe you could wake up and tell me, hm? That'd be nice. No pressure though. How about we read some more? I quite like this book. I've never really had a favourite book, not since I grew out of the Mr Men ones anyway, but this one's good. Let's see where were we?"

Steve got as comfortable as he could on the crappy hospital furniture, flipped to the page he'd marked with a cafeteria napkin and began to read, letting the words flow over him and paint a picture of a group of disparates on an adventure together. He thought they were sort've like The Party, none of them really fit together either, not on paper anyway, but somehow it just worked; they, too, each had their own strengths vital for their collective survival. 

It saddened him in a way to think that if none of the Upside Down stuff had happened, that he wouldn't have any of this. As fucked up as this was right now, with Eddie and Max still unconscious; to not be called Dingus, or son, or Steve-o, that’s just not a life he’d want. Nor would he want a life without a platonic soulmate or a whole gaggle of little siblings. Without two mums and two dads, none of whom were biological, but parents in all the ways his never were. Without three older siblings in Argyle and Jon and Nancy because it wasn't half as weird as they all expected it to be; because none of them were those people any more. Those stupid teenagers were long dead, the shit they’d been through together far stronger than any hormonal teenage dickheadery.

He especially wouldn't want to be without an idiot who doesn't listen when Steve says don't be a hero because he also loves Dustin; because down to a choice of himself or their little brother he would always put himself in the firing line and as much as Steve had raged that Eddie was a dumbass, as soon as Robin had twisted it around, Steve hadn't been able to honestly say that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.

That didn't mean he didn't wish he could trade places with Eddie, didn't mean he didn't wish they'd had more time to get to know each other, didn't mean he didn't spend every spare second thinking about that walk to the Wheeler's, didn't mean he couldn't stop wishing Eddie would wake up, didn't mean he didn't hope for something more he could do to drag Eddie back into consciousness, just to hear his voice one more time, didn't mean he didn't wish he'd stayed with the boys, didn't mean he didn't yearn to know what Eddie had meant to say in that pause before he'd said "Make him pay!"

Steve realised he'd stopped reading, flicked over the page and picked up where Bilbo was imagining summer in his home, the same type of summer that was streaming through the hospital window, bathing Eddie’s sickly form in warm light. Steve hoped that wherever Eddie was, that he was somewhere happy, maybe he was berry picking with his uncle or playing with his band, maybe he was rough housing with Dustin while Steve and Robin watched on. 

He hadn't dared to ask El if she could find him, he couldn't bear to think they were both stuck somewhere unreachable, he wasn't sure his heart couldn't take it. 

He swiped roughly at his damp cheeks, swallowing hard, wiping the pages dry and smiling waterily at the group finding shelter and finally relaxing, creating smoke rings and thinking of Eddie doing the same thing at the last party they'd both been at. All the girls had gone wild and Steve chuckled to himself, knowing now that this book full of mythical creatures was where Eddie had probably got the inspiration, knowing how many hours Eddie must've taken to perfect his technique, knowing the girls who'd oohed and ahhed, knowing that most of them had never read a book in their lives, it was just funny. 

That was until it all went to shit for the allies; Steve read faster and faster, hoping that they'd make it safely out of the tunnels, thinking of the tunnels he'd fought in with the kids, remembering that moment he'd thought he and Dustin were toast, still able to feel the Demodogs racing by them. Then Bilbo was falling, and suddenly he was as unconscious as the boy in front of him. 

Steve sighed and shifted, leaning the book against Eddie's too still leg, he never thought he'd miss someone's nervous energy but even when Eddie had been still and quiet his leg would still always bounce, or his fingers would drum, it used to drive him crazy back in school, he used to wish the other boy would just sit still, mainly because he was struggling to concentrate, and the constant movement was a distraction, but now he longed for some form of movement, anything to add to the consistent rise and fall. 

Steve would usually keep the book up in front of his face so that lack of anything wasn't quite so obvious, but his back was aching and begging to be stretched, so Steve leaned his elbows on the bed either side of the book, propping his head up in his hands, trying to read the words faster in some bizarre hope that if Bilbo survived the pitch black alone that Eddie might too. The Gollum creature just was creepy, with the hissing and the glowing eyes and calling himself precious, it didn’t endear itself to Steve when Bilbo started a back and forth of riddles with it, the narrator commenting that because the reader was comfortable that the answers were somehow obvious.

“Not obvious to everyone,” Steve muttered mainly to himself, “I bet you knew these the first time you read them though, didn’t you Eds?" he asked just for something to say while he found his place again.

"No," muttered so softly and raspily it was almost inaudible, Steve's head snapping up to look at Eddie's face.

"Eddie? Did you speak, or have I finally lost it?" Steve asked disbelievingly. Eddie didn't speak again, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, puffing out a breath that could've been a laugh, immediately sucking one in through his teeth, hissing in pain.

"Wendy!" Steve screamed, jumping up and slamming the red button on the wall, only realising as he did that he'd wrenched his fingers from Eddie's grasp. Leaning his elbow by the side of Eddie's pillow, Steve peered down at him, placing his hand back into Eddie's, "Can you hear me, Eds?" he asked gently. Eddie made a rumbling sound followed by a quivering lip and a whine. "No, no. Don't try to talk, man. Can you squeeze my hand?" Steve asked, running his fingers carefully through Eddie's now sweaty hair, brushing it away from his face and neck. Eddie squeezed his fingers hard, choking a laugh out of Steve as his throat tightened, only realising he was crying when a tear splashed down onto Eddie's cheek, an intense feeling of relief and joy sweeping over him.

Steve had just enough time to wipe the moisture from Eddie's cheek before all hell let loose, nurses and doctors bustling in, Wendy gently removing Steve from Eddie's bedside but not from the room. His mind was racing, unable to really grasp onto anything, just watching detachedly as the professionals adjusted wires and tubes pressing buttons on machines, taking liquids from bottles with syringes and all Steve could think was that he was glad Wayne wasn't there to witness the chaos.

And all of a sudden, it hit Steve like a freight train. Wayne. He needed to know, but Steve was terrified that if he left the room that he'd wake up back in his bed, that Eddie wouldn’t have woken and that they’d be back stuck in the limbo that he might never wake. Steve glanced at the clock, knowing by the time that Dustin and Lucas should be next door watching over Max; it was unusual that they hadn’t come to check on Eddie, but if there had been traffic they just might not have had time.

"Dustin!" Steve yelled through the wall, one of the nurse's turning to snarl at him with a tut, obviously for being loud, but Steve couldn't have given less of a fuck, he just pulled a face at her behind her back when she turned back to Eddie. 

Dustin slammed into the room in less than a few seconds, clocking the chaos around Eddie and looking to Steve with wide, frightened eyes.

"He's awake, call Wayne," Steve instructed, Dustin didn't argue, didn’t fight the grin splitting his face either, "The plant or yours?" is all he asked. Steve was so grateful for this kid, glad in that moment that his little brother was a fucking genius. "Mine," Steve didn't even have time to finish the word before Dustin was gone from the door frame.

There was a bit more hustling around the bed before slowly but surely the nurses and doctors started to file back out, leaving Owens and a once again unconscious Eddie.

"What did you do?" Steve raged, his voice so low and hard it was hardly recognisable even to his own ears. Owens at least had the good sense to approach slowly, hands up and placating, except Steve couldn't hear him over the blood rushing in his ears, panic and fury blurring his senses.

"...ve, Steve, Steven!"

His eyes snap from Eddie's form where he'd been desperately watching Eddie's chest rise and fall, to Owens, who swallowed visibly and took a step backwards.

"We didn't do anything, Steve. I know he's been asleep for a long time, but it's going to take a while for him to get used to being awake again. He's just resting right now; healing like he's supposed to. Now he's regained consciousness, his chances are much better. We're not out the woods yet, but we're a step closer, okay? I'll check in again later, alright?" Owens said calmly as he backed out of the room, leaving Steve alone to nod to himself.

Steve didn’t know how long he stood there nodding to himself, the next thing he acknowledged was Dustin crashing back into the room, all but ready to throw himself at Eddie. Steve quickly stepped between them, blocking Dustin’s path. He parroted everything Owens told him and only allowed himself a breath when Dustin grinned toothily. And Steve, even though he couldn't quite believe what just happened, couldn't help but grin back.

"What a birthday present, huh?" Dustin teased, as he headed out the door back to Max's room.

Steve's hands landed automatically on his hips, yelling after him to shut up, even though he could hear Dustin cackling and feel his own cheeks burning, fucking smartass. 

He sighed, mentally arguing with the kid, desperately trying to come up with a response for next time, when Wayne came dashing in; Steve suddenly felt guilty for disturbing him, but he had promised he'd call if Eddie even so much as twitched. He repeated to Wayne what had happened in as much detail as he could remember, Wayne's smile growing and growing until it looked like his face might split in two, he grabbed Steve around the head and kissed him firmly on the forehead with a relieved “Thank you.” Steve’s brain shorted out when Wayne pulled him into a hug, all he could do was blink owlishly at the wall until his brain kicked in, and he wrapped his arms around Wayne purely on instinct, Wayne squeezing him tight before letting him go. 

He insisted on staying, much to Steve's dismay given the poor man had already been up all night and that he couldn't have had more than a few hours sleep, but he just waved Steve off, merely reiterating that he can sleep anywhere, that he'd been in the army, snd that he didn't need a cushty bed. 

Wayne had only caved about staying at the McMansion after the third or fourth day in that godawful chair, and then he had bemoaned that beds that comfortable should be illegal, that he'd been spoiled for life; Steve had just mentally renamed the spare room "Wayne's room", he knew Owens was sorting them some new accommodation, but he was kind of hoping he and Eddie would choose to stay. 

The house had never felt emptier since his parents phone call, they hadn't even tried to get a hold of him really, they'd just left a message saying that they'd heard about the quake, requesting he give them a call to let them know if there'd been any damage to the property, so they could claim on the insurance. Steve had nearly thrown the answering machine at the wall. Robin had just sighed, told him she didn't know why he continued to let them disappoint him when he had all the family he'd ever need. He knew she was right, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He hadn't bothered to call them back, and he hadn't heard from them since.

Wayne went down to the phones to call in sick then folded himself into the bedside chair, the one that was technically meant for patients, not that any of them had dared to use it for fear that they’d get too comfortable and nod off and miss out on any changes, but Wayne trusted Steve to wake him, he just wanted to be here to see his nephew. Steve couldn't blame him.

He gently placed his plastic chair back next to the bed, he hadn't realised he'd flung it across the room when he'd jumped up earlier. Both Munson's were sleeping peacefully and although a little piece of Steve's soul had settled, he still felt jittery in the almost silence. He grabbed the book back from the night stand, unsure as to how it'd ended up there, flicking through the pages trying to see where he'd last got to.

He propped the book back against Eddie's thigh, tucking his feet under his chair and resting his elbows on the edge of the bed. Originally, he started off reading to himself, not wanting to disturb either of them. He found he could actually read quite quickly to himself, and got through a whole chunk of the story just muttering commentary on the story to himself. But eventually, his eyes started to get tired, and he just started mumbling along with the story, trying desperately to stay awake. 

"How the fuck are you supposed to say that? Eye-ry, ear-ry, err-ry, I don't fucking know, I'm not entirely sure what that's even supposed to be," Steve muttered with a sigh.

"It's their nest," Eddie whispered, rasping and hoarse, tightening his grip on Steve's fingers, where he'd once again been absentmindedly stroking up and down Eddie's hand while he read.

Steve sat up straighter, so he could reach the glass of water with a straw that'd been left on the table, pressing the straw gently against Eddie's lips, "Hey, you," he said softly, "only sips, Eds, or you'll make yourself sick," he murmured putting the glass back on the side when Eddie let go of the straw.

"Thanks, man," Eddie murmured and sighed, sinking back into the pillow. Steve turned to give Wayne a nudge when Eddie squeezed his hand hard, "Don't," he pleaded. Steve hesitated but found he couldn't deny Eddie anything and was rewarded with a soft smile when Steve turned back to him, "He okay?" he asked.

Nodding, Steve ran his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, "Yeah, we're taking good care of him," he promised.

Eddie hummed, tried to smile again, but it was obvious how much effort it was taking, "'nd Dust'n?" he mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Steve couldn't help smiling to himself, "Next door, watching over Max."

Eddie's eyes sprung open, "Not Red?" he whined, big brown eyes sadder than Steve had ever seen them.

"'fraid so. She'll be okay though, she's a fighter like you!" Steve muttered, determination lacing his tone because he believed you had to believe something wholeheartedly if you wanted it to go your way.

Eddie let out a little sceptical huff, eyes already closed and breaths evening out. Steve was just about to go back to reading quietly when Eddie made a little incoherent noise. "Hm? You need something, Eds?" Steve asked quietly, standing to lean over him, brushing his hair away from his face where it'd got stuck to his cheek when he'd turned to look at Wayne.

"'m sorry," Eddie murmured, trying to open his eyes, Steve just huffed out a humourless laugh, sitting back down. 

"Nah, man, got nothing to be sorry for," he muttered, swallowing around the lump in his throat, "Go back to sleep," he whispered, stroking the back of Eddie's hand rhythmically. Eddie listened this time, whether through choice or sheer exhaustion, Steve didn't know, he was just glad Eddie was resting.

Steve took a deep breath, scrubbing his spare hand over his face, he didn't know what was wrong with him today. Eddie was fine, he was on the mend, there was no reason to be upset, yet he couldn't stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't sad exactly, it all just felt like too much, all the previous weeks of worry, the lack of sleep, the constant stress of it all going to hell again before they even had chance to recover. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder, Dustin tended to pop in at lunchtime to give Steve a chance to get some lunch and stretch his legs. But being met with those big concerned eyes just tipped the scales in the wrong direction, he grabbed Dustin round the middle and pulled him into his arms. 

"What's wrong?" Dustin whispered, rubbing Steve's back soothingly, which just made him feel all the more guilty because he was supposed to be the strong one for the kids, not the other way around.

"Nothing," Steve murmured, sucking in a deep breath and coughing around the lump in his throat, pushing the feelings as far down as he could, letting Dustin go with a pat on his shoulder, "Nothing, I'm fine, everything's fine," he lied.

Dustin obviously saw through it but didn't push him, just demanded a Coke from the cafeteria as Steve got up and headed for the door, making him laugh. Steve loved him so much, especially when he was a little shit.

Heading straight to the bathroom, Steve splashed cold water on his face, leaning on the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. It'd been years since he looked this rough, his hair floppy and dry as hell, black and bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep, even his skin wasn't quite the colour it was supposed to be but eating dry toast in your car and crappy hospital sandwiches will do that, he supposed.

He sighed heavily, pushing off the sink, he headed to the cafeteria, grabbing lunch for the four of them and Dustin's Coke, picking up a Diet one too just to annoy him with, in the hopes his moaning and whinging would buoy him for the rest of the day. 

Steve bobbed in to eat lunch with Lucas and spend some time with him and Max like he always did, before heading back to relieve Dustin. Lucas barely wanted to talk these days, just wanted to continue to read to Max in the hopes that she could hear them.

Knowing what El had told him just made him feel guilty, but he’d promised he wouldn't say anything and given there wasn't anything else he could do for her, in the very least it was making Lucas feel useful. If anything Steve thought he sounded a little more annoyed than usual today, but he didn't dare to ask, he just put it down to the fact that Eddie had come back while Max was still lost.

Wayne was awake and chatting with Dustin and Eddie when Steve got back. They all looked tired, but they were smiling, even if they did have tear tracks down their faces. Steve didn't say anything, just squeezed Eddie's foot as he passed by him handing Wayne and Dustin their lunch, who as suspected kicked off about his drink giving them all something to giggle about until he pulled out the red can, the petulant look on Dustin’s face making the three adults in the room laugh harder.

Eddie soon fell back asleep, then after they’d eaten Dustin went back to Max and Wayne decided he was going to find some decent coffee, which was code for he was going for a smoke. Steve sighed as everything settled down again, back to the normal they'd settled into over the past few weeks, except he felt free now to get comfortable in his chair resting his head on his folded arms on the side of the bed. He told himself he wasn't sleeping, just resting his eyes, but Robin made him jump when she came bounding into the room.

"Happy Birthday, Dingus!" she yelled, waking both him and Eddie with a start.

"Jesus, Bobs, shh," Steve chastised, trying to soothe Eddie back to sleep by rubbing his thumb across his knuckles where their hands had yet again ended up connected.

"Sorry," she muttered, not sounding sorry in the slightest. It'd been her way of trying to wake Eddie and Max, blasting into their rooms all loud and full of energy, like a kids entertainer at a birthday party.

"Mornin' Edwin, done sleeping?" she teased, waggling his toes, Steve knew she wanted to hug him, but Eddie's legs were the only place he hadn't been bitten, and she didn't want to hurt him like she had Steve when they'd finally got Eddie to the hospital, and she'd all but thrown herself at him; he'd hissed involuntarily, and she'd cried for an hour even though the pain had gone before she'd even had chance to let go.

"Stop tiring him out, he's supposed to be resting," Steve grouched, reluctantly letting go of Eddie, standing up to grab another plastic chair for her to sit beside him at Eddie's bedside.

She tutted and rolled her eyes dramatically before all but flopping into the hard chair, making Steve wince on her behalf. Now he'd sat back in his chair he didn't know what to do with his arms, it felt weird to reach across and take Eddie's hand, folding them over his chest felt too confrontational, letting them flop by his sides felt weird, finally settling on placing them in his lap. 

Robin was just watching him amusedly, "So, having a good birthday?" she asked with a smirk. All he could do was narrow his eyes at her, Wayne was back and watching them knowingly, trying not to smile. 

Steve looked between the two of them before shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage, "Better than last year," he answered not half as blasé as he would've liked, it wasn't exactly a lie given anything would've been better than last year when everyone had forgotten.

Robin just hummed thoughtfully, leaving them in uncomfortable silence. She'd been a nightmare since she’d started reading psychology books; she was worried about their collective mental health and wanted to have constructive ways to help, but it seemed to Steve that she was just using everything she was learning to torture him.

"How's your mom and dad?" Steve asked, trying to deflect onto a new topic.

"They're good," she replied, letting the silence linger, glancing at Wayne with a playful smile.

The silence was deafening, it made him want to babble endlessly and at the same time say nothing at all, just out of sheer stubbornness.

Luckily, he was saved from their torture by Mike, El and Will, the three of them came in every day to check on Eddie before going to see Max; which Steve thought was sweet given Mike was the only one who actually knew Eddie. He just knew Eddie was going to adore Will, they were like peas in a pod, and he couldn't wait for them to meet properly.

"Dustin said he woke up," Mike said as though that was his excuse for being there, not that it was something as wild as him caring whether Eddie lived or not.

"'m here, y'know," Eddie grumbled, making Mike's whole face light up.

"Eddie!" Mike cheered, heading towards him for a hug.

"Careful!" Steve yelled automatically, Mike pausing mid-step to glare at him.

"I know!" he snapped, carefully placing his hands either side of Eddie's shoulders and leaning gently into him.

"How're you, man?" Mike enquired, purposefully ignoring everyone else in the room, while Steve purposefully ignored Wayne and Robin's knowing gaze.

"Not dead!" Eddie teased, finally prying his eyes open, looking behind Mike at Will and El who waved warmly. "Hi," Eddie croaked, Mike grabbed the drink off the bedside and placed the straw against Eddie's lips.

"This is El and Will, y’know? The ones I told you about," Mike reminded him, focusing on the water leaving the glass.

Eddie just hummed, releasing the straw, doing his best to smile at the newcomers, his eyelids drooping.

Steve had already had enough, Eddie was supposed to be sleeping so he could heal, "Alright, you three, he needs his rest. Visiting's over. Out! Go harass Dustin!" Steve demanded, standing to physically shoo them out the door while Robin and Wayne giggled.

"Don't make me throw you out, too, Buckley!" he threatened, pointing at her with a hand on his hip as the door slid shut behind the kids.

She lifted her hands placatingly, with a delighted smirk, "Here, sit. I've brought your gift," she announced, gesturing to his chair.

Steve couldn't help the endeared smile splitting his face; he hadn't had a birthday present in a long time, his parents just added money to his account, he had no other family, and he hadn't got one from a friend since Tommy.

Robin reached into her bag and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in blue paper, "It's not much, and I know nothing could top waking from a coma," she muttered rolling her eyes playfully in Eddie's direction, "but I hope you like it," she added with a soft smile.

Steve felt his lip quiver again, biting on it hard enough he tasted iron. He didn't care what was in the box, well he cared, he just didn't mind if the box was the present, he already had the best friend in the whole world, what else could he want. He smiled gratefully at her, hoping she could see without him needing to say it, before tearing off the blue wrapping and lifting the lid.

As soon as he saw what was in the box, tears started to fill his eyes, blurring his vision, no amount of self-control would be able to stop the wave of gratitude for the girl in front of him.

"Sorry it's a bit homemade," she mumbled as he continued to stare at his gift. All Steve could do was shake his head, a smile on his face even as tears poured down his face, tugging her into an awkward hug over the box.

"It's the best," he whispered, releasing her to stare down in awe at his present again. It was a picture frame, but inside was all bits of their friendship; a few Polaroids of the two of them, a napkin from Scoops, their name badges sitting side by side in the middle, tickets from the Star Wars movie they went to see together, quotes from songs they loved written on Family Video receipts, the dried flowers of the daisy chain he'd made her while they were hanging out in her garden, the matching friendship bracelets they'd bought from that street artist when they'd gone to Indy last year and immediately lost, newspaper clippings of a game they'd both played at, a little picture of Kermit the frog. 'The Band Geek And The Jock' written across the top of the frame in bubble writing, and 'Platonic With A Capital P' written across the bottom.

He felt the sob hiccup out of his chest, too overwhelmed to do anything to stop it. Knowing it was the most thoughtful gift he'd ever received, he wondered how he was even supposed to begin to thank her.

Looking up at his little miracle, he saw her watching him with sad concerned eyes, "You can just say if you think it's awful," she joked, making a tearful laugh burst out of him.

Shaking his head, he swallowed hard, "It's wonderful. You're wonderful. How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he asked rhetorically pulling her into another hug, "Thank you," he murmured, hugging her tighter, wanting to snuggle into her neck but not wanting to get snot on her top or in her hair, he let her go.

Eddie whined, demanding their attention. He was awake, watching him and Robin with the softest fond expression, opening and closing his hand like Holly used to when she wanted something. Steve automatically placed his hand in Eddie's causing a choked little sound to come out of the three of them, only for him to realise that Eddie probably wanted to see the frame, his cheeks flushed crimson and just as he was about to let go, both Robin and Wayne put a supportive hand on either of his shoulders, starting up a conversation between themselves about the latest conspiracy theory to be printed in the local paper.

Steve stayed perfectly still, afraid of breaking the moment. He'd never felt safer, more loved or supported as he did right then, than he had in his entire life, and it was almost bizarre how these three random people he'd barely known a year ago could give that to him so easily. Eddie squeezed his hand gently, blinking owlishly with a soft smile. Steve gently lifted his present onto Eddie's stomach, so he could see it, he tried to lift his other hand up to touch the frame, but it was proving too much, drifting off again with his dimples on display and a gentle hum.

Taking the gift back and placing it carefully back into the box to keep it safe, placing it on the bedside with The Hobbit knowing he wouldn't miss it there when he headed home later. Robin was still deep in conversation with Wayne, telling him about her grandma's worries about their safety after the "quake", Steve already knew that she wanted them to move away, Robin had called him in a panic when she'd heard her parents discussing whether they should.

He caught Robin's eye and gestured to the door, slipping out when she smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Slipping the door shut behind him, Steve hurried towards the bathroom, he just needed a minute, but a familiar curly head of hair was already pushing open the door. Turning on his heel, his sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor, he headed toward the exit only to bump into Wendy giving Sam an update on Max. The breath was coming shorter and shorter in his chest as he blindly opened the nearest door stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him; sliding down the painted wood to the cold floor, knocking his knee on a bucket because by some streak of luck, Steve found himself in the janitor's closet.

It was all just too much and the thing was none of it was bad, everything was so, so good, the nicest present he'd ever had, Eddie waking up after what felt like forever, the love and support of the people he now classed as family. He had no idea why it felt like there was an elephant sitting on his chest or like he'd had a rock semi-permanently lodged in his throat since he'd woken up. It just hadn't really felt real until now, the few nice dreams he had had been of Eddie waking up or him never getting hurt in the first place, of waking curled around each other, of Eddie smiling at him the way he had in the RV, the way he had on their walk to the Wheeler's house, the way he used to in the cafeteria. 

And he hadn't really needed to deal with the feelings those dreams had brought up until he'd put his hand in Eddie's, and they'd all made that okay. With Eddie, it'd be possible to blame the drugs he's being pumped with to keep him comfortable, but Steve knew that Wayne knew his nephew, knew that he knew what others had only suspected for as long as he could remember. And he knew Robin knew him, as well, if not better than he knew himself sometimes. Hell, even Nancy had suspected when he'd offered to be by Eddie's bedside whenever he was needed; she'd just looked at him the same way she looked at any puzzle and then had pencilled him into every gap without question and with an accepting smile. 

Hugging his knees to his chest, he focused on righting his breathing, taking slow purposeful breaths, wiping his face and focusing on the objects around him until he felt he could breathe again. He'd spent so long pretending, so long trying to be someone he wasn't, trying to be the perfect Harrington that dealing with feelings when they arose and the shame he felt in feeling them in front of others was hard but when his breathing settled, it was like he could breathe easier than he had in a long time, despite the chemical stench inside the cupboard. 

Climbing slowly to his feet he crept out of the small space and headed to the bathroom to wash his face, splashing cold water onto his cheeks felt nice, and somehow his reflection felt easier to deal with than it had this morning, sure he still had scars and dark circles, his hair was still horrendous, and his cheeks were puffy but for once looking at himself in the eye felt less like a lie.

Once he was calm and dry, Steve wanted to check in with Sam, the guy had been a group favourite since he'd come charging into the hospital demanding to see his daughter and he seemed to like all of them too, appreciated that his little girl hadn't been left alone for a single second. He'd been wary of Steve at first, he thought it was weird that an older male was hanging around a bunch of kids, sitting with his baby, but the other parents seemed to have got through to him in a way the kids hadn't been able to that Steve was their babysitter, that they trusted him with their kids lives. 

Hop and Joyce had been the ones to really affix in Sam's mind that Steve wasn't a threat, and the two of them advocating for him after all they'd been through over the years, felt amazing, he finally felt like one of the group once Joyce had wrapped her arms around him, thanking him for all he'd done; for keeping them safe, for walking into battle when he didn't have to. Hop had just put a hand on his shoulder and asked "Y'okay kiddo?" letting Steve fall into his chest with the relief that he wasn't dead, that finally the grown-ups were there, because as much as he had spent his youth wanting to be older, wanting to be away from his parents, so he could do whatever he wanted, it felt like a relief that a real adult would be in charge from now on.

He knocked and entered when Sam shouted for him to come in, smiling a small smile at Steve and carrying on with the book he was reading aloud as Steve sat on the plastic chair next to him. "How's she doing?" he asked when Sam finished the chapter and closed the book; Wendy always gave more info to the grown-ups than she ever did to the kids.

"The same," Sam sighed, stretching out the muscles in his back from being hunched over the book, "Happy Birthday," he added with a genuine smile, "Dustin wouldn't shut up about it. Lucas looked 'bout ready to kick his ass!" he told Steve with a laugh.

"Thanks," Steve murmured, he hadn't come in to talk about him, but maybe Sam just needed to think about anything else for five minutes. 

He told Sam about the gift Robin had given him, Sam smiled wistfully, "Susan used to make me things like that," he muttered fondly. 

For once, he didn't have it in him to correct Sam's assumption, just asked "Oh, yeah?" Let Sam tell him stories of his and Susan's courtship, of their happier years together, if nothing else Steve hoped Max could hear them, thought it might please her to know that her parents were happy once, that they had loved each other and her.

It was a while before Robin poked her head around the door with a "err, Steve?" her smile a little uncertain even as she waved at Sam, who jostled Steve playfully and waved them off with a small smile picking up his book and continuing to read to Max.

"What was that about?" Robin asked bemusedly.

"Eh, nothing. What's up?" Steve asked tiredly, it'd been a long day and as much as he hated to leave, he was about ready to curl up in bed.

"Nothing, Eds was just asking for you," she murmured, turning into Eddie's room, letting Steve follow lazily to find…

"SURPRISE!" everyone cheered, and by everyone Steve meant everyone, he was honestly surprised that they all fit into one room. Wendy was going to lose her shit.

"C'mon Dingus," Robin sighed, dragging him further into the room, "This is your party, no use standing in the doorway!" she chastised playfully leaving him at the foot of Eddie's bed where he was looking a hell of a lot more awake and had a sheet cake laid out across his shins because godforbid they used the table like normal people.

Dustin was finishing lighting the candles with Wayne's lighter, then made little conductor hands at the group, who all jumped into a chorus of 'Happy Birthday'.

Steve didn't know what to do with himself, he just stood there awkwardly, smiling gratefully at every person in the room. They were all there, the Wheelers and little Holly, the Sinclairs, Claudia, Hop and Joyce, Argyle and Jon and Nancy, the kids all smiling at him encouragingly, dare he say it lovingly.

He hadn't been sung to since he was a boy, he couldn't help feeling emotional, a tear escaping down the side of his face when Dustin and Erica wrapped an arm each around his middle, another tear splashing down into Dustin's curls as he looked down at them both wrapping his arms around their shoulders. The singing eventually stopped and Wayne muttered that maybe he should "blow out the candles, before there's more wax than frosting" making them all chuckle. 

He released the kids and bent over the foot of the bed to do as he was asked when Robin yelled, "Don't forget to make a wish!'

A wish?! Looking around the room, at friends and family gathered for his birthday, at the pile of presents sitting in the corner of the room, at Robin's gift and the tattered old book and Eddie's tired but smiling face. There was only one thing missing from this picture, something he could only wish would be different in the next year.

Some wishes in life you know will come true, like putting your hand in someone else's and them tightening their grip, like going to hug your best friend when you're snotty and disgusting and them hugging you back, like a kiss on the forehead or a hand on your shoulder, like Hop's was as Steve looked bewilderedly around the room, warm and protective.

Some wishes though you had to hope for with your whole chest, some wishes were just that, but as he looked at El and Lucas he knew he wasn't the only one wishing with his whole heart as he took a deep breath extinguishing all the tiny flames to a round of applause.

Nothing could make his birthday more perfect than having his little sister by his side again, but this right here, with sleepy eyes and sibling support and more loving parents than any kid could ever dream of, with his soulmate who he has no doubt orchestrated this whole event in a hospital room, this was as close as they could get to perfect for now.