#steve Harrington has ptsd

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Thinking of Steve with PTSD from the torture in Starcourt. (TW: explicit memories physical torture)

Steve, who wakes up feeling hands punch him. Steve, who sometimes gets his fingers caught on knots in his hair, tugs at them accidentally, and suddenly feels the needle against his neck again. Steve, who can't remember the last time it didn't feel like someone was touching him, even when there's no one there.

During the day, it's not so bad. It whispers over his skin, but sometimes it's like it goes completely silent, drowned by the chaos of the kids or Robin's antics. But nights, or any time he's alone in his house, are hard. His skin burns from being slapped, pinched, injected, and the walls waver and morph into the basement of Starcourt for hours.

Obviously, Robin get's it, she was there too, so the pair try to spend as much time as possible together. But on the night's she's working, or her parents force her in and Steve out, he struggles, avoiding his house like the plague.

It's on one of these nights he meets Eddie. Eddie, who's a little skeptical of him, but who saw his fall from grace, and can see the wild fear in Steve's eyes from a mile away. Eddie, who's always ready to adopt a stray sheep. Eddie, who's babbling brings him back to earth, even when he has no idea what he's on about. He learns Eddie's funny, and loud, and brings life to his sickeningly quiet home in a way no-one else can, and Eddie learns he's not a stuck-up bully of a jock, and it quickly becomes a routine for them to meet whenever Robin's busy. Overtime, Eddie learns Steve struggles because of what he went through in Starcourt, but not much else.

One night, he rocked up to Steve's for a movie night, and he can tell instantly it's a bad day. Steve looks haunted, there's no other word for it. He knows he's going to have to pull out the extra Munson Special to be able to get a real smile out of him tonight.

But it doesn't work. In fact, Steve just seems to be getting worse.

He keeps zoning out, knuckles wise where they grip his jeans, the sofa, anything. And not only is he shaking in general, he's also jolting. And... dodging. Like some invisible figure is hitting him.

Eddie's so worried, he actually stops talking, just watches for a little bit and. Steve doesn't notice. He just keeps breathing too fast. Keeps staring at some ghost in his past. Keeps flinching.

Saying Steve's name isn't enough to get his attention, so slowly, carefully, Eddie reaches for him, placing a hand on his arm, just lightly. But it's enough to make Steve reel back.

They're both apologising in seconds, Steve looking distraught as he assures Eddie it's fine, he's just being stupid, and Eddie saying he should have asked, it's no big deal. But Eddie doesn't miss the sheen in Steve's eyes as he nods, or the tremble to his lips.

He takes a deep breath. Asks, "Steve? what's going on?" Watches as Steve tenses impossibly more for one second. Two. Then crumbles.

"I- I can just f-feel- and-and it hurts, and I don't-"

"Okay, okay, what can I do?"

But Steve just whines, because he doesn't know, he just feels pain everywhere and he just needs to make it stop.

Cue Eddie wracking his brains, and asking where it hurts the worst. Cue Eddie asking if Steve trusts him (and of course he does). Cue Eddie talking Steve through what he's about to do. Cue Eddie gently reaching out to touch Steve's neck, rubbing his thumb over it gently, holding his breath as Steve goes rigid underneath his hand, only to let it out when a significant amount of the tension just bleeds out of him a few moments later.

Slowly, Eddie works his way around all the sore spots, murmuring soft assurances, gaining more confidence as Steve trembles less, breathes easier, and melts under his touch.

They end up with Steve's face buried in Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's arms around him firmly, but not tightly. And Steve doesn't have the words to explain why he needed this, what had caused this. But it doesn't matter. Because Eddie's got him.

From then on, Steve's always got someone to help him remember his body is his. Eddie doesn't hesitate to welcome Steve with a hug, run his hands over Steve's wrists, trail fingers over Steve's neck, or just wrap him up in a blanket and snuggle with him and watch a movie. It doesn't matter that Steve's not allowed to explain. He can piece enough together himself (and after Vecna, he learns anyway). It just matters that Steve is sleeping easier, and laughing more brightly. It just matters that Steve is his.

[transmunsons]

Wayne was extra protective of Eddie. He was a type of special that most of Hawkins didn’t even know about. So when Steve Harrington started comin’ around, he made sure to keep an eye on him. Eddie reassured Wayne that he was a good guy, he wouldn’t hurt Eddie or do anything stupid like give him an Eddie Jr.

Still, Wayne watched. He noticed Steve’s odd behavior: watching exits, jumping at noises, always on the edge of his seat. Behaviors that were more suited to an old fart down at the Hideaway rather than a middle-class suburban teenager.

Wayne picked him up once. Found him in the middle of the night on the side of the road, not jogging, not headed anywhere, just… walking. Said he couldn’t sleep. Wayne took him back to the Munson apartment for a hot chocolate.

Eddie joined them as they watched TV. The only time Steve seemed to relax was when he had a thumb on Eddie’s inner wrist, like he was checking for a pulse. Wayne left to shower and rest, but between the bathroom and his bed he caught a glimpse of them dead asleep on the couch, curled around each other.

Wayne had a feeling Steve’s quirks were connected to the twin scars marking both Steve and Eddie’s skin. He didn’t know what went down that week in March, but Steve brought Eddie back to him mostly in one piece.

They both would tell him when they were ready. If they ever were. But for now they had each other and that was more than most would get.

[estrellami-1]

Don’t Let Go

“Fuck- oh, shit, Steve, what-” Robin collapses to the ground next to him, worried hands waving frantically around his body, unsure how to help. “Okay, okay, hey, it’s alright, take a breath, Steve, you’ll be okay.”

He retches again. Watches, detached, as red streaks into the bowl. “Oh, shit,” he hears Robin whisper. “That- that’s blood. Okay. Okay, this is fine, we’re okay. I don’t- I don’t really know how to help you, Steve, I’m trying to stay calm, I swear, but you know how easily I get worked up and-” she shuts her mouth and takes a few deep breaths. “Steve? Can I touch you?”

He tries to think about it. Tries to think about anything other than the memories flashing through his head. Nods.

She breathes out a shaky, grateful sigh. “Okay, good, that’s good, thank you. Um, I’m gonna- my hand. I’m gonna put it on your back, okay? I’m just gonna rub a bit. Just like this. Try to match your breathing, okay? When I rub up, you breathe in. When I rub down, you breathe out. No pressure, just nice, slow breaths, okay? Here, up, so in, breathe in. Now down, so breathe out. In, out. Easy does it, Steve-o, you’re alright.” She grabs a wad of toilet paper and brings it to Steve’s face. “Let’s clean you up a little, yeah? Any chance you wanna tell me what that was about?”

He lets her clean his face off, takes a shuddering breath, and bursts into tears.

“Oh, Jesus- okay, hey, alright, Steve, it’s okay. I’m right here. Is me touching you still okay?”

Her touching him is usually fine. He’d say always—if he could speak—but there have been times he’s reacted so unfavorably to her touch… it’s for the best she asks. Even if the majority of the time, the answer is yes.

The answer is yes tonight, as well, but words are too difficult when he’s trying not to drown in his own tears, so he tips sideways into her, lets her hold his weight up as she rubs his back and arm, comforting him. “That’s okay, Steve. It’s alright. We’re fine. I do think we should talk about this one, though, it hasn’t hit you that hard in a while. Which I know is kinda hypocritical, I mean I’ve slept over every night for like the last month in a row. So I get it. But I do think talking about it could be good. But, uh, we’ll wait a bit. Let you calm down some first.”

He does eventually calm down, at least enough to try to talk, and he does, disjointedly telling Robin about the nightmare. He doesn’t know where to start, and she shushes him. “Start with whatever you can. Baby steps. Small things, one at a time.”

He shudders. It’s not a small thing, the thing taking up every inch of his brain, it’s so big and consuming and taking over and- “So much,” he manages. “So much blood. Thought- thought it was mine. ‘N maybe some of it was, I dunno, but it was Dustin, a-and E-” he breaks off, heaves, manages to take a breath somehow, and the name doesn’t stick in his throat. “Eddie. I was- I was too late, Robs, too late, he was- I tried, I tried, there was so much blood, he- he looked at me and-”

Robin shushes him again, pulls him closer and wraps her arms around him, rocks them back and forth. “‘S alright, Steve, hey, take a breath, c’mon. One big one, I know you can, just one breath for me.”

He manages a medium-sized breath, enough to make Robin happy, enough to make the lump in his throat recede some, enough to let him finish. “He said it’s okay. That- that he didn’t expect me to save him- to care- and I- Robs. I- I kissed him.” He vaguely realizes he’s trembling.

“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs, rubbing her hand up and down his back again. “Can- can I ask if you’ve, uh, thought about that before?”

Steve sniffles, ducks his head, nods. “I’ve had a few dreams. Not nightmares. J-just, like, little things. Sitting together on the couch talking about nothing, going on dates, cuddling in bed and- I do want it, but Robs, I- I can’t, I can’t, he’s gone-” and Steve’s gone, collapsing into sobs again, not even hearing Robin as she’s trying to tell him something.

He notices when she moves away, and he lets her, because somewhere in his subconscious he remembers how she is about touch, and how sometimes it’s too much. So she moves away and he stays on the floor in the bathroom, sobbing.

She’s back a few minutes later, a comforting hand on his back. “Hey, Steve, shh, you’ve gotta calm down a little, which I know isn’t helpful but you’re gonna throw up again if you keep going, and then I’m gonna freak out even more, and then where’re we gonna be? We’re both gonna be freaking out and no help to each other. Hey, slow breaths, it’s alright, copy my hand again, yeah? Up and down, in and out, okay?”

She moves suddenly, says, “Oh, thank God you’re here, I’m useless, here,” and moves completely out of Steve’s space.

She moves back in again a second later, except it’s not Robin, the hands are different, bigger, and he stiffens up, lifts his head, and freezes when he sees who it is. “Eddie,” he breathes, and Eddie gives him a small smile.

“Hey, Steve. You doin’ alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers again, so relieved he can’t bring himself to care about how he normally acts, just burrows into Eddie.

And Eddie lets him, opens his legs to give Steve a stable place to sit, lets Steve tuck his head in Eddie’s shoulder, even puts a hand on Steve’s head. “‘S alright,” he murmurs. “I don’t really know what you dreamed about but it’s okay, I swear, I’ve got some sort of idea it was about me but I’m fine, I swear, I’m okay, got a little chewed up but you got me out. We’re okay, we’re fine. I promise.” He rubs his other hand up and down Steve’s back, like Robin had been doing, and Steve does his best to follow the pattern, except Eddie’s rubbing his back a little too fast, and all he feels is the panic coming back.

Suddenly Eddie stops rubbing. “Oh- oh, Stevie, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, then continues rubbing, slower. “Robin told me you were trying to match your breathing to my hand rubbing your back. It’s a good idea, and I’m- I’m proud of you for initiating it. Here we go, nice and slow, in and out.”

Eventually Steve’s breathing slows back down enough for him to say something. “Sorry.”

Eddie hums. “What? Sorry? What for?”

“You havin’a come out here.”

“That’s not something you ever need to apologize for,” Eddie tells him seriously. “Hey. Can you look at me?”

Steve manages to lift his head and look Eddie in the eye for a few seconds. “There you are,” Eddie whispers with a soft smile. “It’s alright, Steve. I’ll always be here if you need me, m’kay? Now, how about we get off the bathroom floor?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, moving out of Eddie’s space and trying to stand, only to collapse again. “Fuck, sorry,” he mutters. “Legs’re asleep.”

“That’s alright, you’re not too heavy, c’mon, I gotcha. You wanna brush your teeth real quick?”

Steve notices the taste in his mouth for the first time and makes a face as he nods, moving with Eddie’s help over to the sink. “Grab on here,” Eddie says quietly. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“M’kay.” He brushes his teeth, looking down at the sink, hearing Eddie bustle around as he flushes the remainder of Steve’s nightmare and disappears back into the room for a moment, drawers opening and closing before Eddie make a reappearance, standing this side of too close. Steve welcomes it, finishes brushing his teeth and leans back into Eddie when he’s done. “Not sure I can sleep,” he murmurs, not looking in the mirror. He doesn’t want to confirm how he knows Eddie’s looking at him. He knows, if he meets Eddie’s eyes, he’ll see pity.

“D’you wanna try? Or just wanna head downstairs? We can watch shitty movies and make fun of the acting.”

He thinks about it. Thinks about laying back down, the dark creeping in, being unable to see Eddie even if he knows he’s looking directly at him. His breath sticks in his throat. “Dow- downstairs. Please.”

“M’kay. Wanna bring Robin?”

“No. She’s gotta shift t’morrow morning. Needs to sleep.”

“So do you,” Eddie murmurs, enough levity in his voice it doesn’t sound judgmental. “Wanna bring anything downstairs?”

Steve sighs as he tries to think. “Don’t think so.”

“Okay. You ready to go then?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t move.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah.” He takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t- I can’t-” he shakes his head, makes a bitten-off, frustrated noise. “Don’t wanna let go.”

“‘S okay. You don’t have to.” A hand appears in his field of view, palm-up, open and inviting. He takes it. “Is this enough for now? Till we get downstairs?”

Steve thinks about it, then nods, squeezing once as Eddie steps away, leaving their hands linked. “Sorry,” he mutters again, even though he knows Eddie’s going to tell him to stop apologizing. “Dunno why I’m like this.”

Eddie chuckles softly. “Pretty sure you get a free pass to act like this as much as you want, Stevie. You’ve been through hell more’n anyone ever should.” He tugs on their joined hands, a small smile hovering on his lips. “And quit apologizing.”

“No promises,” Steve says instead of what he wants to. I’m like this because it was you. Because I love you. Because I’m too much of a coward to say anything.

Eddie stills like he hears it all anyways. All he does is wrap his free hand around Steve’s wrist, gripping for a moment before releasing him, gently tugging him out of the bathroom.

Robin’s sitting up in bed, lamp on, waiting for him. He feels bad, but still too shaken up to release Eddie. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

She glances over at Eddie with a flick of her eyebrows, and he snickers as she looks back at Steve. “Don’t apologize, dingus. I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll see you in the morning?”

He nods, tries to smile. “Love you, Robbie.”

“Gross,” she says with a smile, but grabs his free hand as they walk by. “Love you too.”

They get downstairs and Eddie stops by the TV. “Wanna watch something?”

Steve thinks about it. Thinks about the movies he owns, the way he’s feeling, and shakes his head. “Want some water.”

Eddie chuckles. “Probably should’ve been my first thought. Whaddya wanna do after?”

Steve shrugs. “Just… don’t wanna be alone.”

Eddie looks at him for a long moment before pulling him into a hug. He realizes, as his nose mashes into Eddie’s shoulder, he’d been curling into himself. “C’mon,” Eddie murmurs. “Water then couch, m’kay?”

Steve nods, wrapping his hands around Eddie’s waist, letting his eyes close as he tucks his face into the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder. His hair tickles Steve’s forehead. He doesn’t move, just relaxes, tightening his hold when Eddie starts to move them.

“Gotta move for a second,” Eddie murmurs eventually. “Can’t drink the water with your face mushed into my neck. And the last thing you want right now is a dehydration headache.”

Steve knows he’s right, can already feel the tightening that means a headache is coming on, and reluctantly untangles himself, holding out a hand for the glass. It wobbles dangerously when it’s in his grip, and Eddie’s hand comes back to wrap around the glass, overlapping Steve’s fingers, steadying him. “Easy does it,” he murmurs, guiding the glass up to Steve’s lips. “A little at a time.”

Steve drinks slowly, allowing Eddie to take the glass after a few sips, only for him to put it down and pick something else up. A pill, he sees when Eddie brings his hand closer, and he’s at least steady enough to hold that and slip it into his mouth, and by the time he does Eddie’s got the water back up by his face again. “Thank you,” Steve murmurs eventually, instead of the I’m sorry that wants to come out.

Eddie smiles, small and fond. “My pleasure. Couch?”

Steve nods, so they walk over together, Eddie placing the water on the side table before arranging them on the couch. He sits down first, then tugs Steve almost on top of him, a gentle hand on his neck guiding Steve’s head back to his shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Eddie’s fingers running up and down Steve’s spine, before he breaks the silence. “Wanna tell me what happened? All Birdie said was you had a nightmare and thought I was, uh. Gone.”

Steve heaves a sigh. “That’s pretty much it. You and Dustin, but you especially, and I… I dunno. And it wasn’t even one of those dreams that made sense, or anything, it’s just all of a sudden there I was, and there was so much blood, and I think some of it was mine but I was fine, Dustin was in bad shape but was gonna make it, but you…” he shakes his head. “Told me you didn’t expect me to save you, didn’t think I’d care, and that was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard you say so I kissed you, and you… you died. Didn’t say anything. Just… there one second, gone the next, like I had killed you.”

“Well,” Eddie says, “I can definitely see how that would’ve freaked you out. Especially given that you’re straight. Which! Is not the point. Sorry. Um.”

Steve shrugs. “Not really. Um. Straight, that is.”

Eddie freezes. “No?”

“No.” Steve shifts away, hates the feeling of Eddie’s hand slipping off his back, but hates the thought of Eddie being uncomfortable because of him even more. “I like both. Um. Like Bowie? Robin told me that’s a thing.”

Eddie chuckles. “That it is, Stevie. Thanks for telling me.”

Steve shoots him a look. “You’re okay with it?”

Eddie frowns. “It would be kinda hypocritical of me to not be, wouldn’t it?”

Steve waves a hand around. “Not that. The fact that I like you, and had a dream that freaked me out and you came over and oh my god, all of that was false pretenses, wasn’t it, fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie, I swear I wasn’t thinking about that, the- the dream really did freak me out, and I-”

“Steve,” Eddie says, putting a hand on his forearm. “Hey. Calm down before you spiral into another panic attack, alright? It’s fine. Doesn’t bother me in the least.” He lets out a breathless chuckle. “Actually, I guess that would be kinda hypocritical of me, too.”

Steve blinks. “What would?”

“Me freaking out about you liking me.” He stares for a moment before looking away, huffing a laugh and shaking his head. “I had the most unfortunate crush on you in high school. Admittedly, then it was purely based on looks. But then Spring Break from hell happened, and I learned you’re actually a really good guy, and the crush transitioned into something more than just surface-level.” He holds out a hand, palm up, waiting for Steve.

Steve stares at it, then lifts his gaze to Eddie’s face. “You… like me?”

“I do.”

A shy smile begins to grow on Steve’s face as he ignores Eddie’s outstretched hand in favor of leaning back in, setting his head back on Eddie’s shoulder and sliding his arm around Eddie’s waist. He smiles as Eddie chuckles and wraps an arm around his back. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” Steve asks quietly. “About what we want to do and be?”

“We can wait as long as you want,” Eddie promises. “Just as long as tonight, we can stay right here.”

Steve giggles quietly. “Deal.” He’s silent for a few seconds before the giggles start again. “Robin’s gonna be so pissed I got a boyfriend before she got a girlfriend.”

Permanent Taglist:

@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove

Side note, I may be convinced to do a part 2 to this if anyone wants it… I don’t know what that part 2 would entail but if y’all want it (or anything really, my asks are always open) let me know! Thanks for reading! ❤️

[milf-harrington]

the overwhelming feeling of being watched in the dark

steddie | 2.3K | read on ao3

---

There was something under Steve Harrington’s bed. 

It hadn’t always been there– once upon a time, there’d been nothing but empty space between the bed-frame and the dark blue carpet lining his bedroom floor. Once upon a time, he’d sleep sprawled across his bed like it was bigger than it was, arms and legs dangling over the sides carelessly, no thoughts spared towards monsters that could be watching through the gap in the closet door. 

No thoughts spared towards monsters at all.

Until three years ago, when he found out one had apparently been running around in the woods behind his house. Of course, he found out about that little tidbit of information after he’d fought the thing off with a baseball bat that Jonathan Byers had stuck nails in. 

Curiously, in November of 1983, Steve developed a troublesome fear of lights.

After the shitshow at the Byers house, he couldn’t stand the quiet buzzing of the bulbs or the way adrenaline gripped his throat every time too many appliances made the lights pulse. Lights flipped on, or off , without warning threw him into fight or flight mode, one hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. 

So instead he kept the lights off as often as he could, relearning the shape of his house in the dark, right up until Halloween of 1984. 

1984 brought junkyards, traversing an underground maze while concussed, and the chittering screech of dogs-that-weren’t-dogs. His hallway at night became a winding tunnel with the potential to fill with writhing, faceless, bodies whose heads peeled open like some sort of fucked up banana, and suddenly lights didn’t seem so bad. 

And then, like the universe just couldn’t help itself, 1985 left him with blood in his eyes and drugs in his blood and the chilling understanding that some very bad people had some very sensitive information about him and his friends. 

By his 4th brush with death-by-alternate-dimension, his new fear of the dark had become a downright hassle. Embarrassing and impossible to logic his way out of.

Steve was frozen in the doorway of his bedroom, watching Eddie take his rings off. He did this thing where he'd poke his top lip with the tip of his tongue, concentrating hard on twisting each bit of jewellery off before reaching forward to drop it onto Steve's fancy writing desk. They clattered against the wood, ringing sharply when they skimmed each other, and Steve was trying very hard to focus on all of that and not the sight of Eddie’s ankles exposed to the underside of his bed. 

A grown man could fit under there and Steve knew that because sometimes he hid under his bed when the world was too much. 

Eddie looked over his shoulders, eyebrow cocked somewhat playfully. He was always some level of playful, like he didn't know how to exist in the world without turning it into a game. “You planning on standing there all night?”

Steve’s eyes dropped from his face to the space between the carpet and the bed-frame. A man could fit under there. Someone who knew his name and had his keys because his pockets had been emptied when he and Robin had been captured. 

He swallowed, trying to ignore it, and looked back to find that Eddie’s expression had softened into something else. Something concerned. “Stevie?”

There’s someone under the bed , he wanted to say. Even if the logic wasn’t foolproof, the connection had already been made in his head and there was no thinking his way out of it. Someone could fit under there, so someone had fit under there and now if Steve turned off the light they were both going to die. 

He glanced at the light switch, sitting innocently by his shoulder, and a cold panic coiled tight in his stomach. 

“You can keep the light on.” Eddie offered, gently, fiddling with his hair. “I’m not going to judge you man, I’ve needed the bathroom light on since I was a kid. And after the shit you’ve seen?” He blew air through his lips, cutting a hand through the air. 

And Steve knew that, had been there on some of those nights. The ones where Eddie kept his bedroom door open because sometimes the kid that still existed in his brain got scared of things that hadn’t happened in over a decade. 

But it didn’t work the same for Steve. After so many years of not being afraid, of having no reason to be, he still found it almost impossible to sleep without total darkness. Like the damaged part of his brain was ringing alarm bells, but the older bits still recognised the safety in the shadows.

“It’s not that.” Steve admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling childish. There’s someone under the bed, he wanted to say. Could feel the words squeezing his throat like tails and vines and the hands trying to hurt. If I turn the lights off I don’t know what will happen.

God, his bat was under there– the one with the nails driven through it, crooked and rusted with old blood. Whoever was under there probably already had their hands wrapped around it, waiting for the cover of dark to use it.

There were lots of things under Steve’s bed. They weren’t always there at the same time, but the possibility of them was burned into the wooden slats holding his mattress up.

The Soviets had known his full name. 

There was a lot you could find out just by knowing something like that, especially with a name like Harrington in a town like Hawkins. And yeah, Starcourt had burned down, half the base blown up, but there had been survivors because some of them had dragged Hopper off to Russia. 

Which means there were still people out there who might know his name.

Most of Steve’s nightmares were set in that base. 

Eddie was looking more worried the longer Steve went without saying anything, just standing next to the light switch and not doing anything. He bit the inside of his cheek, cracking the knuckles on one hand to assure his friend that he wasn’t being Vecna’d or anything.

He should check.

He’d probably look like a fucking weirdo but there was something under the fucking bed and there would be until he could make sure there wasn’t. It was a reckless sort of certainty that burned through his stomach, tight and cold around his throat. 

---

read the rest on ao3 'cause i didn't wanna post the full thing on here

[withacapitalp]

Out of This World

Read it on AO3 instead

Tw: Depression

There was a black hole inside of Steve. 

He would lie down flat on his back in the living room. The stone floor beneath him would pull his mind down from wherever it liked to drift to, and he would be able to focus enough to  stare at the ceiling, put his hands on his stomach, and breathe deep into the sensation. 

When things got really bad, it was like he could physically feel it. A dark mass that spread out from his core and swallowed everything around it. If he flipped over to lie on his stomach and press his cheek to the cold marble, then it would sprout out of his back like demon wings, menacing and grim. 

He had never told anyone about it, but he was sure everyone knew. That was the thing about black holes, they dragged everything towards them. He was a magnetic person, people were drawn to him, but when they got close and saw that there was nothing inside, they ran. The empty expanse living in Steve was terrifying. 

He was the only one who couldn’t escape himself. 

No matter what he did, inevitably he would be reminded of what was inside of him. He could try to be happy, but he had to remember it wouldn’t last. 

Steve could mess around with the kids, dance along to the radio with Robin, try and love the people who chose to stay with everything he had, but the black hole would always return. It would suck up whatever joy he had tried to grow, making it disappear in the blink of an eye, lost to whatever cosmos existed beyond the gnawing hunger in Steve’s stomach. 

It was like it was starving, like he was starving, but not for food. There was nothing Steve could give to make it go away, nothing that would satiate whatever was stuck inside of him. There was just the all encompassing need to have more, to get something that would kill the loneliness that lived there. 

And, when the people around him realized that they really couldn’t make that black hole go away, they left. They ran to keep themselves from getting pulled in, and Steve couldn’t blame them. He had spent most of his life trying to run from himself. 

Even now, lying in bed with Eddie late on Sunday morning, he could feel the first nudges of gravity shifting, the quiet stirrings of empty space needing to be acknowledged. 

There was a black hole living inside of Steve, and nothing he could do to change that.  

“God I swear it’s like you’re the sun,” Eddie sleepily whispered against his chest, unknowingly cutting straight through the icy black tendrils starting to creep up Steve’s spine. 

“The sun?” Steve said, feeling something finally touch the cold dark thing living in his stomach. 

“You just keep us alive and warm, don’t you Stevie?” Eddie mumbled, still half asleep, “Pull everyone into your orbit and make sure none of us go flying off into space alone,” 

Eddie was already starting to snore by the time Steve jogged himself out of his stunned silence enough to kiss the top of his boyfriend’s head and whisper a reverent declaration of love. 

Sometimes Steve felt like there was a black hole living inside of him.

And sometimes he was reminded not everyone saw it that way. 

[truefangirl-13]

Steve Harrington has guilt over Eddie dying because he made a fuss about always being pared up with Dustin and the one time he wasn’t… He believes it should’ve been him

[magicalmysteries777]

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

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

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

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 10 of 10.

Chapter WC: 5.6k.

CW: Swearing.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

July 14th, 1987 .

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

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

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

“Eds. Voice.”

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

"Aw, you’re nervous,” Steve teased.

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie?”

“Hopper?”

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

“Oh, um, no. Everything’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

June 16th, 1988.

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

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

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

“And do you know where my cap is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll get you a new can.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr Munson, do-” Jonathan began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September 3rd, 1992.

Steve had never seen Jonathan so stressed out.

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

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

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

“Eat that and go outside for some fresh-”

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

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

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

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

“It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

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

“I could… But you were late.”

Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

The ceremony went off without a hitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Steve replied, dumbfounded.

Eddie looked at him softly. “Marry me?”

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

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

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

January 24th, 1997.

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve.”

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

“Surprise!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I get it now?”

“Later.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hell yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

October 7th, 2014.

The doorbell would not stop ringing.

“You go,” Eddie argued, half asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

“I do.”

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

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

March 3rd, 2015.

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

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

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

“No one,” Steve replied, panting slightly.

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

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

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

“Eddie-”

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

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

“Shut up, we are not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“Gotta be easier than the crib, right?”

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

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

“It needed doing,” Eddie defended.

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

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

“See!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, darling.”

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

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

5th September 2024.

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

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

It had been a very long day.

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

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

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

It took two hours for all hell to break loose.

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

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

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

“Are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I come too, Oscar?” asked Rose.

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

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

“Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A/N:

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

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

★★★★★★★★★★

And with that, we're done.

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

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

Thank you. 🖤

[wynnyfryd]

hi wyn!! for the dialogue prompts, i'd love to see you tackle #34 w/ steddie

34.  “Who cares? Who cares? I care!”

“For the last time,” Steve snarls as he reaches into the steamy shower Eddie just stepped out of and starts angrily shuffling wet bottles around on the shelf. “Fabergé Organics goes on the middle shelf, Wella Balsam goes on the bottom. If I have to tell you again I’m revoking your shower privileges! You can go wash your hair under the garden spout, Munson, I swear to God!”

And maybe it’s just because it’s early, because he’s tired and cold and running late for work — or maybe it’s because he can’t help but be a complete and utter foot-in-mouth dipshit regardless of circumstance — but Eddie decides to respond to this little rant by flipping his head over the bathroom sink and muttering, “Literally, who cares?” as he scrubs the excess water out of his hair with a towel. 

“Who cares? Who cares?” 

Eddie doesn’t even need to see Steve to know he’s fucked up, sent Steve spiraling into pissy mom mode, even before his boyfriend stamps his foot and says, “I care! I care, you asshole. It’s—” 

Eddie looks up. Steve’s red in the face, his eyes going shiny with frustrated tears, and fuck. Right. Eddie forgets how particular Steve gets about his stuff sometimes. How it’s not really about the stupid fucking shampoo at all, but about Steve’s need for things to be in their proper place. To feel like he has a modicum of control over his life after going four rounds with the fucking Hell dimension. Right. 

Shit. 

“It’s my stuff,” Steve tapers off, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice so small and wounded.

“Shit,” Eddie sighs aloud for good measure; he runs the towel over his bare skin, makes sure it’s nice and dry because Steve hates the feeling of being damp, and then turns to him with his arms held out in offering. “Shit, baby, I’m— I’m stupid, I’m sorry. Can I give you a hug?”

Steve sniffs, nods, and Eddie throws his arms around him, squeezing him tight against his chest. 

“I just- I just like my stuff how I like it,” Steve whispers, shoulders tense.

Eddie kisses his hair. “I know you do, sweetheart.” 

And if Steve comes home that night and finds freshly laminated labels under each shampoo and conditioner bottle in his shower, well. Eddie has no idea what he’s talking about.

---

send me prompts!

[allthingssteddie]

I have an idea where Steve has agoraphobia and won’t ever leave the house and also has ocd and can’t touch anything with out gloves on. And when there’s a banging on Steve’s door he opens it thinking it’s delivery and Eddie comes rushing in and begs Steve to let him hide out at his house. And at first Steve’s freaked out at this stranger but then sees Eddie has bruises on him and lets him hide in one room of the house. And during that night they talk through the door.

Side note Eddie’s running away from people he owes money to.

[italiansteebie]

Guess Who's Back

Also on ao3

------

It has been decided that Steve Harrington is an enigma. 

He tells people everything, yet somehow the boy still has his mysteries. He’s moved out of his parents house, and his roommates are constantly learning new things about him. They’ve kept a running list of things Harrington’s said, either in passing, or while drunk, because it seems... It seems that is the only way they find anything out about him. 

He’s constantly on the phone, with many different people, Joyce and Hopper are the main ones, Ray (one of his roommates) has a sneaking suspicion they are his parents, but Devon reminds them that if they were his parents, he wouldn't necessarily call them by their first names. Would he? And other times, Ray thinks Richard, the guy Steve speaks to, quite briefly, in harsh, hushed Italian, may be his father. From the way Steve’s face screws up in distaste at the demanding tone coming through the phone, he can see that if this is Steve’s dad… He’s definitely an asshole. 

And that’s just the beginning of the list his roommates have been keeping. 

Crue, which is just a nickname for a government name nobody's ever heard, is the keeper of this list, and they have trouble skipping over any details. So when Steve wakes up screaming, from terrors that plague him in his sleep, they try and carefully weasel out the reason, while still comforting him. They’re never successful in this quest, and it seems each time any of them ask, he only gets more standoffish. 

—--

There's a storm in the area. And their apartment isn’t the greatest, and Ray has a habit of falling asleep with his eyes open, and when he falls asleep, he falls asleep like a brick. So when Steve shuffles inside, groceries in hand, catching the lights flickering and Ray’s still body, with open eyes flickering about the room, it really ruins his day. 

“Ray? Ray!” 

There’s a bit of a commotion, but Devon is tired, and commotions are common here, with Ray and Crue being siblings, so she ignores it. That is, until Steve bursts in her room, flicking through her tapes, muttering incoherently, with trembling arms. She watches as he grabs a tape, snatches her walkman, and runs out of the room. “Steve?” She calls, but to no avail. 

She gets up, begrudgingly, and what a sight it is to see Steve in the living room, sobbing over Ray’s sleeping body, trying to get the tape into the walkman as his hands shake uncontrollably. Crue saunters out not much later, Steve’s crying turning into wailing. The two bystanders make eye contact, to which Devon shrugs her shoulders. “Steve?” Crue asks gently, his head whips up, and he sniffles, tripping over his words, a jumble of sounds falling out of his mouth. “Should we call someone?” They ask, and Steve nods, “Please, p-please. Uh. Joyce. Ho- Hopper, call- The. Tell them he’s back.” 

“Who’s back?”

“He is.”

And the shaking has gotten so much worse, Crue’s afraid his heart is going to fall out of his butt, so they jog over to the phone, dialing the number labeled “Joyce,” that has been tacked to the wall, with a note under it that says “Call anytime, Steve. Love, Joyce and Hop” with a heart next to it. 

—--

At the Byers-Hopper household, it is peaceful. They had just finished dinner when the phone rang. Hopper groaned, considering just letting it ring, but Joyce smacks him lightly on the stomach, “What if it’s Steve?” She reminds him gently, she stands to grab it, but Will beats her to it. 

“Hello?”

“Uh. Hi. This is uhm. This is Crue. Steve- Uh. Steve’s roommate. He’s really kind of freaking out. Uh. Something about ‘He’s back?’” 

Joyce watches as the color drains from her son's face, “Will, Honey? What's wrong?” He drops the phone in response and she watches as his nose tinges red with tears. She gets up quickly, sending Will to sit down, and grabs the phone.  

She can hear the other person asking for someone faintly, and she puts the phone up to her ear, “Hello, is everything alright?”

“Oh! Thank god. An adult. Well, you sound like one anyways.. Uhm. This is Crue, Steve’s roommate. He’s like. Having a freak out. Uh he said he’s back.”

Joyce takes a deep breath, “Who’s back?”

“We asked him that. All he said was “He is.” 

“Shit. Okay honey, listen to me. I want you to play some music, I know Steve has a record player in his room, so take that and turn it up loud, play something everyone likes, okay? I’ll be over in a second.”

She hangs the phone and looks at Hop, who is already standing, shoes on and gun in holster. The kids are standing too, El and Will looking scared but determined, and Jonathan with car keys in hand. The group walks quickly to the car, and drives to Steve’s, only breaking a few laws. 

—---

“Steve, please. Tell us what's going on? Can we help?” Devon practically begs, watching from the corner of her eye as Crue runs to Steve room, coming back out with his record player. Ray, still dead asleep, not picking up on the chaos surrounding him. 

There’s pounding on the door, and Steve moves quickly, grabbing his bat, and approaching the door with caution. “Steve. It is us.” A small voice says, young, but determined in tone. Crue and Devon watch as the relief quite literally washes over their roommate. He opens the door, stepping aside, letting the family in. 

“Has he started floating yet?”

“I don’t feel him,”

“Are you okay, Steve?”

The overlapping words seem to settle him just a bit, but the shaking is still there and Crue feels like he might collapse any minute now. “He- He won’t wake up, a-and I. I got his favorite song! I kept a list, just like you told me to, and I-.” His chest is heaving and tears are streaming rapidly down his face. Crue guesses the woman that pulls him into her arms is Joyce and the burly man standing beside them his Hopper. However, the little girl with short hair,is standing over Ray with her eyes closed but moving, searching, under her eyelids. Well. Neither Devon nor Crue know who that is, and the boy with the awful haircut that is inspecting light bulbs is a stranger too. The girl smiles gently, before smacking Ray across the face. 

He sits up rapidly, “What’s going on? Who slapped me? Who are you guys? Why am I wearing headphones?” The words came out rapidly, and slurred with sleep. “I am El. Steve’s friend. You are okay. You just sleep bad.” She says simply, moving over to Steve and wrapping him in a hug. “I? What? I sleep, bad?” The girl, El, nods. 

“He was asleep, Steve. Henry is dead.” She says, and with that he crumples to the ground, Joyce and Hopper following him, until the whole family is in a heap on the floor. The roommates watch in curiosity, and Crue thinks this is another thing that needs to go on the list, but pushes that thought away. “Not the time,” they think to themselves.

The roommates move to the kitchen, giving the family some semblance of privacy, but still staying close. Devon decides to make Steve some tea, something they see him drinking often, and hopes it helps him. 

“I couldn’t. I couldn't do it again,” they hear Steve say shakily from the living room. 

“Sweetie, it’s like El, said. Your roommate just sleeps with his eyes open. Everything is okay.” Joyce says gently.

The roommates feel a little guilty for listening in but. Steve’s their roommate, and they care. Even if he doesn't want them to. Devon finishes the tea, and starts walking towards the family that’s still sitting together on the floor near the front door. She hands the tea to Steve with a gentle, “I hope everythings okay.” To which Steve nods and scrubs a hand over his face. 

Yeah, sorry guys. I uh-” He’s cut off by Hopper gently pushing him over.

“We talked about you apologizing for having feelings, Steve. It’s okay.” 

The group of roommates quickly nod, and rush to reassure him. Steve sighs, “Okay. Well. I guess I should introduce everyone, now that I'm… Not freaking out.”

 He stands, and so does everyone else, “This is… My family,” He starts shyly, to which El and Will smile brightly at. “Uh. This is Hop, and Joyce. And the awkward guy standing over there is Jonathan… And these guys are Will and El.” They all wave to the roommates standing in front of them. “And well. That’s Ray, the one I thought.. Yeah. And Uh. Crue is who called you guys. And that’s Devon.” He says pointing to each of them, before moving out of the way and letting them finish their own introductions. 

“Wait. Why do you call your mom and dad by their first names?” Ray asks, filter non-existent, often reminding Steve of Robin, Crue smacks him on the shoulder to which he responds with and exasperated, “What?!” Crue gestures vaguely, “You can’t just ask that,” they stage whisper. 

Steve laughs, “They’re not actually my parents,” he says lightly to which Hopper gruffly responds, “Yeah, but we’re better than the dick heads he got stuck with for 18 years.” He cracks a small smile after that, and Steve laughs softly, nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah. They’ve been better parents to me in the last 2 years than my biological parents have been since I was born,” He shrugs, eyes brightening as he looks around at his family, and the roommates smile. It wasn’t often they saw Steve this happy. And after everything they’ve witnessed today, and well… The whole time they’ve been living together, they’re happy that Steve has this found family to hold on to.

“Wait. Okay.” Ray says, with a groan from Crue, “Dude. Ruin the moment why don’t you.” To which Ray responds by shoving them over. “As I was saying,” he pauses to glare at Crue, “If you guys aren’t his parents, then am I right in assuming that the asshole that Steve talks to in Italian is Steve’s dad?” 

“Yeah, that’s. That’s Richard. Technically my father, but he never fucking acted like it. Hop’s better in my book anyways.” He says, knocking a shoulder into the gruff man. 

“Well. We should let you guys catch up,” Devon says, pulling them back to Crue’s room, giving the family some actual privacy. And if they take out the list and do some major revisions, well. That’s their business.

And if Steve goes back to his family’s house for the night, then. That’s his business.

[littlegaysword]

PTSD

[xxbottlecapx]

A few people have been asking me to write more fics about Steve's seizures and I promise I am! I just am trying to do research first to make sure I write the seizures accurately, so it might take some time! 💚💚💚💚💚

[loveinhawkins]

It’s only once everything is okay that Dustin starts thinking there’s something deeply wrong with him.

They’re out of the danger zone, where hospital visits have almost become normal hangouts rather than something to sit through on tenterhooks. Eddie’s getting the all clear to go home soon, and Dustin feels like he’s finally, finally able to take a deep breath, and blow it all the way out.

Steve must feel it, too, because he starts drifting off halfway through one of their last visits, while Dustin’s telling Eddie how Tews got up on the roof last night.

Dustin’s not offended by Steve falling asleep—for one, Steve already heard the story on the ride to the hospital and, more importantly, Dustin’s pretty positive that he’s barely been sleeping, only just enough so he can safely drive his car.

Dustin pats his knee fondly as he gets up.

Even though he’s steadily swaying towards the end of the couch, Steve tries to rouse himself.

“Mm, Dustin, jus’… jus’ need ten minutes, then… give y’ride home…”

“It’s okay,” Dustin says. He gently pushes Steve’s shoulder, snorts when Steve’s head tips right onto the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna go call my mom.”

He knows Steve really must be exhausted when he doesn’t attempt an argument to counter that, just sighs with a murmured, “Hmm? If tha’s… ‘kay.”

From the bed, Eddie looks on with a smile. “Thanks, Henderson,” he says softly. “Wayne’s gonna come later, he can… give him a ride home.”

He yawns through his words, like just looking at Steve is making him sleepy, too.

They’ve been like that a lot recently, Dustin thinks, like their breathing falls into sync without them even trying.

He slips out of the room quietly. There’s something between Steve and Eddie, he can feel it—and although he can’t quite put a name to it yet, he knows it’s something delicate, like spun glass. He’s not going to be the one to disturb it.

When his mom comes to pick him up, it happens.

“Put your coat on, hon, it’s freezing out.”

Dustin rolls his eyes—it’s hardly that cold—but as he steps outside, the air hits his bare skin and—

He’s in The Upside Down, and the cold is in his throat, in his lungs, he can’t stop shaking with it, and Eddie, he’s—he’s not breathing—

“Dustin? The car’s parked this way, baby.”

Dustin breathes in, short and sharp. For a moment, he can still see it all: the lightning, the blue tint, the particles hanging in the air, and then, like blinking away a camera flash, it’s gone.

His mom frowns, steps closer. “Dusty? Oh, you look pale. Hope you’re not coming down with something. Early night tonight, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dustin says. Blinks. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

-

He tells himself it’s a one-off.

Then it happens again—inside the hospital this time.

Steve opens a window in Eddie’s room before heading to the vending machine—just a crack. Barely anything.

But the cold is so intense that it takes Dustin’s breath away.

He hears the bats. Feels the pain in his foot, burning white-hot as he runs, he has to run. Eddie. Screaming. He has to get to him now or he’ll—he’ll—

Dustin shuts the window with such force that the pane rattles.

Eddie glances over from where he’s standing, right in front of the tiny mirror on the wall; he’s been wringing out his still damp hair with a clean T-shirt that Dustin highly suspects belongs to Steve, unless Eddie’s suddenly taken to owning a Hawkins Phys. Ed uniform.

“Woah, that’s the window shut, I guess,” Eddie says lightly. “You cold?”

“A bit,” Dustin says, hopes it comes out normal.

It must do, because Eddie just shrugs and goes back to the mirror, fiddling with his curls, and Dustin would usually give him so much shit for that, but his chest is tight, and although logically, he knows he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he can still feel the dampness of the ground, the dirt under his nails, Eddie’s blood…

“Did you just close that?” Steve says, jerking his head towards the window with a bemused look.

“I live to piss you off,” Dustin says.

Eddie laughs.

“Yeah, it’s your special talent,” Steve shoots back, monotone, but he’s grinning as he throws a candy bar at Dustin’s head.

3 Musketeers.

Dustin isn’t hungry, not even for nougat.

But he tears the wrapper anyway, takes a sizeable bite just for the sake of appearances.

Steve is catching Eddie’s eye in the mirror, and Eddie’s smiling, looking at Steve’s reflection; and although Dustin can hardly hear what they’re saying through the thud of his own heartbeat, their joy is obvious without words.

Because it’s over. It’s all over.

Dustin’s not gonna be the one to ruin this for them.

He won’t.

[kitchen-spoon]

southern Nights

Pre Season 4 Steddie set Post Season 3:

After the mall fire Robin's parents take her out of Hawkins to go visit family in August so Steve is left to cope without her after spending nearly every day and night with her. So he turns to Eddie who he had been becoming friends with all summer leading up to the fire.

Eddie has to leave Hawkins in August too to go live out in Kentucky with his grandmother (Wayne's mom) at her farm until school starts back up again. He offers for Steve to come with him because he doesn't want to go alone and he knows Robin is leaving and doesn't want Steve to be alone.

Initially Steve being his stubborn self refuses but eventually he relents and agrees to come. They drive out together and once they are there Steve calls Robin Everynight after dinner while Eddie's grandma's cat Bruce sit in his lap and gets attention and pets.

It takes them about a week and a half to start fooling around together after all the tension they had been building at the start of the summer. It Happens for the first time after they smoke weed together on the porch and Eddie teases Steve about hogging the joint because he is spaced out and says "Never learn how to share baby?"

One Night Steve cuts Eddie’s because it was in his face all day and getting in the way and Eddie had been quietly grumbling about it at dinner. He does it at the kitchen table after dinner and its the first time they kiss without having sex. A few days later Eddie gives Steve a small stick & poke star in return.

Steve always insists on sleeping alone in the guest room even after they start fooling around. Eddie hears Steve’s screams when he has nightmares, he always waits until he hears Steve leave his room and go to the porch to check on him and sit with him.

Steve refuses to sleep with Eddie because he sleeps with a little stuffed lamb from his childhood and is embarrassed about it. It helps with his nightmares though. One night Eddie finds it and Steve gets really embarrassed and tries to hide it but Eddie doesn’t let him. They talk and Steve starts sharing a bed with Eddie and bringing the lamb (Cloud) with him. One night Steve falls asleep first and Eddie see’s how Steve rubs its ear against his lips to sleep.

Wayne comes down for the last week of their stay to help move his mom from the farm and back into her home for the winter.

One night Steve has a nightmare and wakes up where it turns into a panic attack. Eddie finds him kneeling on the lawn in front of the porch head in his hands rocking while he mumbles to himself barely breathing. It's when Wayne was coming so he pulls up and sees that and goes to Steve and recognises that it's PTSD. Steve is mumbling about a plan so Wayne plays along with it, assures him it worked and they are safe it's over.

While Wayne is there for the last week they try to be sneaky but he catches on and calls them out when he catches them being all sappy in the kitchen. Steve is cooking dinner and Eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him. Wayne *ahems* in the door frame and they split a part, Eddie is out to Wayne so he is more embarrassed but Steve is scared. Wayne is like calm down boy, I knew it the night I got here.

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock in Four Months Part 12

We're back babey :DDDD Happy to announce hiatus is over fellowsssss but also TW for this one Steve has a panic attack. Also thanks as always to @stevethehairington for betaing and supporting and generally just being the best friend a person can ask forrrrr also @thefreakandthehair for listening to me ramble about this endlessly. When I say I was working on this for two months, legitimately for the entire two months I was working on this

Part One Part Eleven Part Thirteen Link to Ao3

Step Twelve: Watch Him Stumble

In terms of gigs, this probably had to be one of the best sets Eddie had ever played. The energy was off the charts, the crowd was in it with them at every step, and best of all, Steve had been smiling the whole time. Even the power going out had a certain panache to it. Like a final zinger to finish off the wicked guitar solo in Breathless that made Eddie’s heart race every single time he played it. 

Was it ideal to have to sit in the dark and wait for the lights to come back on? Not by a long shot, but there was no denying that the ending of the song had been one hundred percent bonafide metal. 

All in all, Eddie wasn’t that pressed about having the electricity cut out. It wasn’t the first time the power had died during one of their shows, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Hideout was a total dive, basically a shack at the edge of the woods with an electrical system that was shoddy, at best. The band’s equipment had blown a fuse so many times that it was practically routine for the owner to have to go downstairs and reset the box halfway through their set. 

“What’s going on, Dan?” Eddie asked as he saw the bartender’s flashlight start to come up from the basement. He was eager to get going again, unwilling to lose the killer vibe coming from the crowd. 

He also wanted to be able to see what a certain ex-jock thought about the song he had just played. But that was neither here nor there.

“Shows over, boys!” Bar owner Dan shouted, listening to the moans and groans from the patrons before sighing and walking over to the low stage. “Flipped the breakers twice, but nothing. Must’ve been somethin’ else that blew the power. We’re done for the night.”

“Damn it,” Eddie swore, scuffing his sneaker on the ground and strumming a discordant little note on his guitar for emphasis.

Of course this happened on the one night he was actually trying to impress someone. Of course. 

“You can leave whatever you want to here for the night,” Dan offered, waving his flashlight around, “It’ll be hard enough to find your way out of this place without trying to lug around all this equipment too.” 

Eddie didn’t care about the equipment. He cared about the fact that Steve’s first time seeing him play had just been totally wrecked by a stupid power outage. 

“Thanks, Dan,” Jeff said for all of them as Eddie continued to scowl, trying to push down his disappointment before it could grow into something impossible to manage. 

The bartender nodded once, turning and walking towards some of the patrons to give them the news, leaving the band to their own devices. 

“This blows,” Eddie groaned as soon as they were alone, mood still incredibly sour. 

“You’re just mad you didn’t get to show off for Steeeeeve,” Frank teased as the others started to pack up in the dark. Even if they were leaving their stuff there, they still wanted to leave it in a somewhat organized fashion. 

“Stones and glass houses, Frankie,” Eddie said warningly, turning to where he knew Frank was around and glaring. He was not above calling out the other boy’s very obvious crush on Janet at this moment, nothing was off the books when he was this annoyed. “No, I’m mad our set got slashed in half cause of a dumb power outage.” 

“Mhm, sure,” Gareth said, drawing out the word in a way that grated on every single nerve Eddie had. 

“Guys?” Janet’s voice floated over, stopping Eddie before he said something he regretted. Janet slowly came into view as she walked over to the stage, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. 

She was alone. 

Eddie’s anger vanished as a pit began to form in his stomach. 

“Where’s Rocky?” Frank asked, walking over to stand next to Eddie. 

“Where’s Steve?” Eddie emphasized before Janet could answer, looking around into the dark of the bar. It was hard to see anything but lumps bobbing and weaving about, but none of them seemed Steve-shaped. Still, there was no way Steve would just leave. 

Right?

“No clue,” Janet answered, rubbing her arm, “Steve was acting weird right before the power went out, and now we can’t find him. I sent Rocky to go look around.”

Weird? What did ‘weird’ mean? Weird was the kind of word that only made even more questions. Did Steve totally hate the music? Was he having a bad time? Had Eddie completely misinterpreted everything he had thought from before? 

But before Eddie could put any of these fears to words, Rocky’s silhouette came into view. 

“He’s not in the bathroom. I even peeked into the ladies just to be sure,” Rocky reported. Janet made a disgusted little sound, reaching over to smack the younger boy upside the head and give him a disappointed scowl. 

“Hey!” Rocky snapped, getting out of Janet’s line of fire, “Not cool. I’m just looking out for a fellow party member.”

“He’s not in our party,” Gareth muttered immediately, stepping around his drum kit to come stand with the rest of them. Eddie didn’t bother to fight with his best friend or even comment on his stupid little jab. He was too busy freaking the fuck out over the fact that the guy he definitely wasn’t crushing on had seemingly vanished into thin air. 

“What do you mean weird?” Eddie asked, hating the way his heart was starting to pound. 

“He was like really distracted? And looked kind of freaked out. Not just annoyed or uncomfortable, but scared,” Janet said, trailing off with a grimace on her face. She looked like she had more to say, but nothing else came, and an stilted silence fell over the group. 

Scared? Steve? The words just didn’t seem to fit together. Eddie couldn’t imagine Steve being afraid of anything. He went headfirst into everything, confident to the point of nearly cocky, so sure of himself Eddie was sometimes jealous. 

“Maybe he just didn’t like the music?” Gareth offered, but his tone was weak. “Used the power outage as a way to slip out?”

“No,” Janet said firmly, shaking her head. “He… Something wasn’t right, guys.” 

Something wasn’t right. 

Eddie knew this feeling. It was that heart stop stomach drop moment. The deer hearing the first snap of the twig under a hunter’s boot, a rabbit sensing that a snare was nearby. It was the same way he felt when he was walking around town and saw a car full of douchebags tailing him, or he went to the woods to make a deal only to find no one sitting at the picnic table. 

There was something dangerous happening, something that instinctually made Eddie want to run for the hills. 

Something scary. Something that was a threat. 

He needed to find Steve. Now. 

“Maybe he’s just outside having a smoke or somethin’,” Eddie said, trying and failing to sound casual. “Let’s go look.”

Eddie carefully placed his guitar in its case and hopped down, walking towards the direction of the front door and hoping the others were following. He would go on his own if he had to, but he really, really, didn’t want to. 

Luckily he heard the pattern of footsteps following his own, and Jeff bumped his shoulder against Eddie’s as they approached the exit. Eddie took a millisecond to be grateful for his loyal batshit insane buds, then he was back on task. 

“Steve?” Eddie called as he walked out the door, mentally sending a prayer to whoever might be listening that Steve would be standing right there, waiting for them to come join him. 

No such luck. There were a few drunks milling about, a couple making out against the side of the building, but no sign of Steve’s pretty boy hair or his soft sweet smile. Eddie’s heart began to race impossibly faster. 

“Steve! You out here?!” Eddie shouted, hating the panic that was starting to enter his tone. He turned his head in every direction, but he couldn’t see any sign of Steve. 

“He’s long gone, Eds, can we go back inside now? It’s fucking freezing out here,” Gareth asked, rubbing at his bare arms and shivering as the frigid winter wind raced past them. Eddie could barely feel his own body, but he ignored both the cold and Gareth’s words, walking towards his van. 

Steve was there. He had to be. He had to be, or else Eddie was going to lose his mind worrying over what was probably nothing, and he might say something incredibly stupid when they actually found Steve, and that would ruin everything they had worked so hard to build. 

Luckily for Eddie’s increasingly fragile mind and heart, he spotted a shape sitting near the van. Eddie practically melted in relief, jogging around to the other side of his van, needing to see Steve’s face. 

“Well if you wanted to dine and dash so bad, Harrington, you should have-” 

Eddie cut off the idiotic quip he had been in the middle of saying, struck silent by the state he found Steve in. All of the relief he had been starting to feel instantly vanished, replaced by a bone deep dread that overtook Eddie’s entire being. 

Steve was on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest and his eyes staring firmly at the gravel. He was still as a statue, barely even blinking, and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Eddie could see him shaking from where he stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind as he continued to just stare at nothing. 

Something was wrong. 

“Steve?” Eddie said softly, reaching out slowly as he edged closer to the other boy trying to get his attention. “Sweetheart? What’s going o-“

Steve’s hand darted out the second Eddie’s got close enough to reach, fingers latching onto Eddie’s wrist in an iron tight grip that instantly sent a dull ache racing up his arm. The physical sensation was uncomfortable, painful, but it was the look on Steve’s face that hurt the most. 

Steve’s eyes were boring holes into Eddie’s face, staring him down with a flat blank glare that looked completely wrong on his features. It was almost like he was looking through Eddie, not really seeing him, just dealing with the threat that was coming towards his body. 

It shouldn’t hurt. After all, Eddie was used to people in this town seeing him as a scary person. He didn’t really bat an eye anymore when people switched to the other side of the street as he walked past, and he didn’t care that much about the way mothers would grab their children’s hands if he started to approach. 

But something about the way Steve’s protective instincts had deemed him a danger just cut right to Eddie’s core. 

“Steve it’s-it’s just me,” Eddie stuttered out, trying subtly to pull away from Steve’s death grip. 

The combination of his quiet voice and tugging must have tripped something in Steve’s mind, because a hint of recognition flew across Steve’s face, and he instantly dropped Eddie’s wrist, going back to curling both of his hands in his hair and pulling, shaking silently as he let his gaze fall back to the pavement. 

“Eddie, back up,” Jeff ordered the second he was free, stepping forward. 

“Jeff-“

“Eddie, he’s having a panic attack,” Jeff said firmly, interrupting his friend before he could start trying to argue. “Back. Up.” 

A panic attack? 

Eddie had seen Jeff in the throes of a panic attack before, and it was nothing like this. Usually Jeff would hyperventilate, gasp for breath as his limbs moved almost uncontrollably. He would babble out anxiety fueled rambles until the moment passed, then usually retreat into the safety of solitude for a while as he tried to piece himself back together. 

Steve just looked… gone, lost somewhere none of them could reach him. 

But Jeff would be the expert on panic attacks, so if he said that was what this was, then Eddie just had to trust him and hope he could help Steve. Unwillingly Eddie took a single step back, falling into line with the rest of the group who had crept over at some point, and were now all staring at the scene with a mixture of horror and confusion. 

“Hey Steve, it’s Jeff, do you recognize me?” Jeff asked calmly, keeping his tone even and clear. He seemed completely zen, unphased by the very frightening moment. The only way Eddie could tell anything was amiss was the way Jeff’s fists were clenched tight at his sides, an easy tell that he was trying to keep his hands from shaking. 

Steve looked up when Jeff started speaking to him, giving one short nod after a prolonged pause. 

“That’s good. Can I come sit by you?” Jeff asked, starting to step closer. Instantly Steve seemed to be back on guard, stiffening up and pressing his back even harder against the van. Jeff took the shift in stride, taking a step back and holding his hands out.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay right here. That’s better?”

Another pause. Another short nod. 

Jeff took a second to think, then slowly slid down so he was sitting across from Steve on the ground of the parking lot, crossing his legs and taking a long calming breath. 

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Yet another pause as Steve contemplated the question. Eddie watched as Steve’s blank look shifted first to confusion, then to fear as he shook his head. Steve’s lip started to wobble as his eyes turned glassy and filled with fright. 

“That’s okay,” Jeff said soothingly, clearly trying to get ahead of whatever was starting to grow inside Steve’s mind. “You’re at the Hideout in the parking lot with me, Jeff. Our other friends are here too. Eddie, Frank, Janet, Rocky, and Gareth. You came to listen to the band play tonight, do you remember that?” 

Steve nodded, letting out a long slow exhale, a bit of the tension in his shoulders dropping. His hands slowly slid out of his hair, fingers playing with the loose gravel of the parking lot. 

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Jeff explained. His words were blunt, but his tone was still soft. “Have you had one before? Do you know what caused it?”

Steve’s jaw clenched up even tighter. Eddie found his mind starting to count the seconds, needing something to do in the moment in order to stop himself from speaking. 

He got up to thirty four before Steve finally opened his mouth. 

“The lights,” Steve whispered, sighing and reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It was… it was the lights.”

“Lights? I don’t- It was… it was just a power outage, Sweetheart,” Eddie blurted out, unable to hold his words back. His mind was racing to try and fit the piece into the puzzle, but no matter how he thought about it, Eddie simply couldn’t comprehend how the lights of all things caused Steve to fall into such a panic. 

He looked back at the rest of the group, seeing if any of them had any clue what was going on, but they all had the same confused fright on their faces. 

“No. It wasn’t,” Steve stated immediately, his voice firm and set. His eyes were hard again, and he was staring at the ground with a mixture of hate and fear that made Eddie’s stomach clench up tightly. “It was not just a power outage, and I need to check on my kids.” 

“Steve-“

“I need to check on my kids,” Steve repeated, interrupting Jeff harshly. Now that the tension was broken, the words seemed to be coming easier, and Steve cleared his throat before continuing, “My bag has what I need, but the doors were locked. I got out here and then the doors...”

Steve trailed off, looking lost. 

“I’ll grab your bag,” Gareth offered, startling them all. He held his hand out for the keys, and Eddie gave him a look, raising a brow. If it was anyone else, Eddie wouldn’t even hesitate, but Gareth offering to do something for Steve of his own free will was like the devil offering to tie Jesus’s shoe. 

“It’s okay, I got it,” Gareth said, softening his voice, something far too close to pity in his eyes as his gaze flitted over to Steve, then back to Eddie, conveying without words that Eddie leaving Steve at this moment seemed like a bad idea

Despite the tension of the moment, a part of Eddie relaxed. Gareth was just being Gareth- the good Gareth that Eddie knew was hiding under bitchy mean Gareth that had cropped up out of nowhere. Eddie tossed him his keys and the rest walked to the other side of the van, talking in harsh low whispers that Eddie couldn’t quite make out. 

“This can’t be happening again,” Steve whispered when it was just the three of them, a breathy half laugh escaping alongside the words as he wrapped his arms around his knees and tucked his head down. “God, it’s really never gonna be fucking over, is it?”  

The question was obviously rhetorical, Steve probably wasn’t even really talking to them, but a physical pain started to grow in Eddie’s chest from the utter defeat radiating off of Steve in miserable waves. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going to ask,” Jeff stated, taking the risk to scoot closer and maneuvering himself so he was sitting next to Steve, his back flat against the van, “but, while we’re waiting for them to get what you need, do you want to try a grounding technique?”

“A what?” Steve asked, just barely raising his head. Jeff began to explain his favorite grounding technique, using short and easy to understand sentences to go over exactly what he was suggesting. Steve uncurled ever so slightly as Jeff was speaking, his full attention on the younger boy. Even Eddie was caught in the lull of Jeff’s tone, his heart starting to finally flow down. 

Then he heard his name. 

“Eddie.”

It was Gareth on the other side of the van, holding Steve’s bag up and giving Eddie a wide eyed look of horror. He gestured for Eddie to come over with a jerky handwave, and Eddie gave him a look. Wasn’t the whole point for Eddie to stay? Why was Gareth trying to pull him away just as they were starting to make progress. 

“Eddie. Now,” Frank whispered harshly, his head popping up next to Gareth’s. He also looked freaked the fuck out, still far too pale. 

“I’ve got him, Eds,” Jeff said in that same soothing tone pulling another deep breath and watching as Steve obediently copied the motion. “Go see what they need.” 

Eddie really wanted to just say fuck it and stay exactly where he was, but Steve was starting to get some color back in his cheeks, and if whatever was in that bag would help, then Eddie needed to get that for him. 

So, very reluctantly, Eddie walked around to the other side of the van, leaving Jeff and Steve alone. 

“What?!” Eddie snapped the second he was out of earshot of the two boys, throwing Gareth a harsh glare. If this was another trick or some weird tactic to fuck with Steve, then Eddie was going to seriously have to reconsider their friendship at this point. 

“Look,” Gareth hissed, shoving Steve’s bag into Eddie’s hands. 

Eddie peered in the bag, still annoyed and confused. It was all normal stuff. Well, a little weird. Steve’s car keys, a flashlight, a walkie-talkie… a first aid kit… and…

“Why does he have a knife?!” Gareth snarled, looking more terrified than angry. 

“Lots of people have knives,” Eddie said, trying to sound calm. The words came out strangled, falsely cool in a way that made it obvious to all of them that Eddie was just as uncomfortable as they were. 

“Okay, but why does he need that right now, Eddie?” Janet asked. It was a good question, but one that Eddie couldn’t possibly come up with an answer for. 

Why did Steve need a knife right now? Why would he even bring it with him tonight? 

“Eddie? What’s going on?” Jeff called from the other side of the van, still blissfully unaware of the latest update to their situation. Eddie shook his head roughly, dropping the knife back into the bag and zipping it up, holding it behind his back as he rounded the front of the van again. 

“What is it you need from your bag, Steve?” Eddie questioned, keeping his voice firm as he stared down at Steve. 

“My walkie-talkie?” Steve answered, a picture of innocence. He had one hand flat on the ground, and the other tangled up in Eddie’s necklace, his thumb worrying across the face of the guitar pick. Then Steve's words came back to him. 

I need to check on my kids. 

Hot shame flooded Eddie’s stomach as he remembered exactly what had led to all of them snooping in Steve’s stuff. Steve had just wanted to reach out to the kids, that was all. The knife wasn’t really that weird in retrospect, just another overprotective Steve thing. He wasn’t about to get stab happy on them, he just wanted a way to protect himself if it became necessary. 

Eddie could understand that. 

“Is it not there?” Steve wondered, some anxiety starting to leak into his tone the longer Eddie just stood there. “I’m sure I brought it, but-”

“No, I have it right here, sweetheart,” Eddie said, interrupting the thought before it could even form. He tugged the walkie-talkie out of the bag and handed it to Steve, sitting on the ground next to him and watching as Steve flipped it on and switched the channels, taking a deep breath before holding down the talk button.

“Guys?” 

He let go of the receiver, and immediately there was an explosion of voices as the kids all began to scream over each other, shouting Steve’s name and endless questions. It was impossible to make out exact words in the mayhem, but Eddie wasn’t interested in that. He was busy focusing on Steve. 

Despite the fact that he was still trembling, the pinched brow and nervous look in Steve’s eyes faded the second he heard the kid’s voices. He sighed, leaning his head back until it softly hit the van, letting the tension fall from his shoulders as his eyes slipped shut. 

“See? All okay,” Eddie murmured, needing to add extra reassurance now that he thought he could. Steve shot him a weary little smile, rubbing the guitar pick around his neck once more before pushing down the talk button once more. 

“What are we dealing with?” Steve asked, about to put the walkie-talkie back down before the sound of shoes on gravel caught his attention. As Gareth, Rocky, Frank, and Janet walked back around the van, Steve continued “and I’m not by myself right now, so don’t say any stupid shit.”

“Who are you with?” Lucas’s voice said from the walkie-talkie, sounding tinny and electronic. 

“And say over next time. Over,” Will added. 

“The fucking ‘over’ bullshit,” Steve said to himself with a roll of his eyes before picking it back up. “I’m at the Hideout with Eddie, now what are we dealing with?!” 

Silence. Eddie looked at Steve with a raised brow, and when Steve looked around in annoyance, Eddie caught his eye and mouthed the word ‘over’. 

“Jesus H,” Steve muttered, looking up at the sky as if begging God to help him. “OVER!”

“Well we don’t know that yet, Steve,” Dustin promptly responded the second Steve’s finger left the button, his tone dripping with far too much sass. "We were too busy looking for you! Over.”

“I’m gonna kill them,” Steve stated, rubbing at his temple, “I’m legitimately going to kill them.” 

“Everybody shut up,” A new voice barked. Eddie knew it from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. She wasn’t one of the kids, Eddie knew that much, but he couldn’t figure it out. “Steve, Jonathan and I will be at the Hideout in five minutes. Do not move. Over and out.” 

After a few seconds of staticky silence, Steve groaned, pushing the antennae of the walkie-talkie down and turning it off. 

“Of course she’s coming here. Of course,” Steve whispered, unknowingly mirroring Eddie’s exact thought process right after the power outage. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Was that Nancy Wheeler?” Janet asked incredulously, her jaw hanging wide open. 

No. Nope. There was no way. 

“Yeah, it was,” Steve said with a sigh, forcing himself into a standing position and stretching his shoulders. 

He was completely nonchalant about it, like it was perfectly normal to have your ex on walkie-talkie speed dial, and it was only natural for her to come collect you like a haggard housewife the second she thought you might be in trouble. 

“Nancy Wheeler, your ex girlfriend,” Eddie said dumbly, just to be sure he wasn’t being punked.

“The one and only,” Steve said dryly, becoming more and more himself with every second. It was like hearing Nancy’s voice had flipped a switch, and the vulnerable nervous Steve that had been sitting on the ground by his van was gone in an instant, replaced by a flippant easy going boy that looked like nothing had ever happened to him at all. 

It was bizarre, uncanny in a disarmingly normal way. Eddie had always kind of admired Steve’s coolness, how nothing seemed to phase him.

Now it just felt… not disingenuous per say, but more layered than it was before. It wasn’t completely an act, but Steve was definitely hiding so much more than Eddie ever could have assumed. 

“Why is Nancy Wheeler coming here?” Eddie asked slowly as he stood up, watching Steve like a hawk and looking for any kind of micro change in his expression. He got nothing. Steve was a brick wall. 

“Even if I could tell you, you wouldn’t believe me,” Steve said with a wry smile that didn’t look much like a smile at all. Before he could say anything else, they all heard the sound of tires squealing nearby, and a pair of headlights peeled into the parking lot. Steve moved like a man possessed, jogging around the van and towards the car still speeding into the lot. 

“What the fuck was all that?” Rocky said, asking the question all of them were wondering. Eddie shrugged, following Steve’s path and watching as Nancy Wheeler jumped out of the passenger seat of the still parking car, ignoring Jonathan Byers' shouting at her from the driver’s side as she strode towards where Steve had stopped. 

“What the hell, Steve?!” She snapped the second she had pulled herself away from the car. “No one knew where you were. You didn’t tell anyone, or leave a note, or anything. What were you thinking?!” 

“What was I- Nancy, what are you talking about?” Steve said defensively, turning around to briefly give Eddie a ‘can you believe this’ look before turning back to his ex who was still fuming. 

Eddie didn’t really know anything about Nancy Wheeler, it wasn’t like they ran in the same circles whatsoever, but he certainly had never expected to see her like this. There was two high spots of red on her cheeks, and her eyes were flashing in a way that just screamed danger. 

“You can’t just disappear out of nowhere! Do you get how irresponsible that is?” Nancy asked rhetorically, not giving Steve a second to answer before she barreled forward, “Mike and the others wanted to make a search party and start riding around on their bikes looking for you. What are you even doing here?”

“I didn’t realize going out was a crime,” Steve said in a moody tone, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Nancy a cool glare. 

Things were quickly devolving between the two of them, and as much as Eddie wanted to intervene, he hung back and observed. That was the thing most people didn’t realize about him. Eddie could be quiet and listen when it benefitted him. 

“It is if you don’t tell me where you are!” Nancy exploded, throwing her hands up as she did. “Especially if it’s because you’re hiding that you’re doing something dangerous.”  

With those words she poignantly turned her glare towards Eddie, as if he personally was holding Steve hostage. Steve’s face screwed into a dark scowl and he stepped so he was back directly in Nancy’s view line, blocking her from the others. 

Protecting Eddie from her. 

That shouldn’t have made him feel as warm as it did. 

“Nancy. I don’t know how you forgot, but let me remind you- We. Broke. Up,” Steve said, each word punching directly out of his chest and exposing just how raw that still fresh wound was. “You’re dating Jonathan now, so what I do, and who I’m friends with, and how I spend my time isn’t your problem anymore.” 

“Nance,” Jonathan said, trying to grab Nancy’s arm. She pulled away from his grip, stepping close to Steve. 

“Yes, it is my problem! You are still my problem!” She shouted. 

Eddie would’ve chalked it all up to crazy ex-girlfriend disease and dragged Steve away from the fight, but something strange was developing. The anger was quickly draining away from Nancy’s features and all that was left was a painful grief, the kind that made Eddie want to turn his head and find anything else to look at. This wasn’t just a jealousy thing, or psycho ex behavior. 

This was something more. 

“Look, I know we broke up, and I know that’s my fault, but first the lights flickered, then power went out, and none of us could find you,” Nancy said, looking down at the ground as her voice began to waver and her features inevitably turned towards tears. “You weren’t at your house. It was empty, and it was just the pool, and no one there, and I thought- I thought-”

Eddie would never know what Nancy had been trying to say, because Steve enveloped her in his arms at that moment, holding her gently against his chest as he shielded her from the rest of the world. 

There was a momentary flare of jealousy that ignited in Eddie’s chest, a second where he felt a blinding, irrational hatred for Nancy Wheeler and everything she was. But then Steve was holding out his other arm to Jonathan, who hesitated for a second and looked extremely uncomfortable, but came closer nonetheless, all three of them sharing an exhausted hug. Jonathan and Nancy put Steve between the two of them, joining their hands between his shoulder blades as they held him close. 

Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t romantic. No need to be jealous. 

Not that Eddie had any right to be jealous in the first place. It shouldn’t matter that Steve seemed to have some sort of weird magnanimous relationship with his ex and her new boyfriend. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t his concern. 

It mattered. It mattered so much. 

“I’m fine, see? Right here,” Steve said, slightly muffled by the two people still holding him like he was the most precious object in the universe. 

“You can’t do that,” Nancy managed to gasp out, clearly in tears given how thick her voice had gotten, even if Eddie couldn't see them. “I can’t lose you too.” 

Too? Who had Nancy lost? 

The questions were only continuing to mount, and Eddie wondered if you could get a panic attack just by standing close to someone who had just had one. It was certainly getting harder to breathe the longer he looked at the three of them. 

“You’re not losing me,” Steve said firmly, as if he was writing it into law just by saying it out loud, “we aren’t losing anyone again.”

“You can’t know that,” Nancy said, her voice so soft Eddie almost missed it. As she did Jonathan looked up, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder as he made eye contact with Eddie. 

“Guys,” Jonathan called, reluctantly pulling away and nodding his head towards the rest of Hellfire who were all still standing there. Nancy quickly wiped at her eyes and Steve stepped back, putting distance between him and the couple again. 

“Hopper went to the lab,” Nancy said, picking her words slowly and carefully. “He dropped um… her off at my house with the rest of the kids.” 

Her?

“How is she?” Steve asked. Well, he knew, but Eddie was still in the dark. Who could ‘her’ be? Nancy had a little sister, didn’t she? Maybe she had a tendency to run off or something. 

“She’s freaked out. She passed out when the power outage happened, but we don’t know why yet,” Jonathan answered, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 

Steve sighed, swiping a hand across his face and turning around. He jogged over to grab his bag, slinging it over one shoulder as he walked back over. 

“Let’s just go. I don’t want to leave the kids alone right now,” Steve said, slipping back into his role as babysitter as easy as breathing. Jonathan and Nancy both nodded, waiting until Steve was in line with them before starting to walk to the car. 

It hurt almost, being forgotten, dismissed. It was like they had never even existed, like nothing else that had happened tonight mattered. 

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t know he and the others weren’t Steve’s first choice of friends, but having it so blatantly thrown in his face didn’t feel all that great. There was an extra sting when Eddie considered exactly who those first choice friends were. 

Steve would apparently rather spend time with his ex and her new boyfriend over Eddie and his friends. 

Whatever. No problem. Eddie shoved the feeling down in his chest, deep where it would bother him all night long, but where it wouldn’t come out in mean lashing words towards anyone else.

But, as he spun on his heel and went to go stomping back towards his van, a shout behind his back stopped Eddie in his tracks. 

“Eddie!” 

Steve was running over to them, the back passenger door of Jonathan’s car still wide open. He slid to a stop right in front of Eddie, panting just a bit as he reached up towards Eddie’s neck. 

“I totally forgot,” Steve said apologetically, expertly unclasping the necklace and reaching over. Eddie shivered, sucking a sharp breath in as Steve’s arms wrapped around his neck, fingers just barely grazing Eddie’s skin as he returned the necklace to its rightful owner. 

“I had a really nice time tonight,” Steve murmured, looking up at Eddie with those big cow eyes and a bashful little smile. 

“Really?” Eddie said, thrilled but unable to believe it. Steve was probably just being nice, that was all. 

“Well, before,” Steve amended, his cheeks turning a soft red as he took one step back, futzing with Eddie’s necklace so it sat perfectly in the center of his chest. “I really liked your band.” 

“I’m glad,” Eddie managed to stammer out, both hating and loving the way his entire brain was turning to mush the longer Steve had his hand on his chest. Steve had liked the band, he liked the music. 

That didn’t mean he liked Eddie, but there was no denying the thrill that was shooting up Eddie’s spine. 

“Seriously. Thank you,” Steve said, patting Eddie right above his heart once more before mercifully pulling away. “It was nice to just get to be a little… normal.” 

“Anytime, Sweetheart,” Eddie replied, biting his tongue before he could do something stupid like promise that Steve could be normal with him whenever he wanted. 

“By the way you guys are all invited to my place for a Christmas Eve Eve party! It’s on Friday,” Steve said, turning to address all six of them. “I was going to mention it on the ride home but well- Anyway, we’re doing a yankee swap, so bring a present. Oh, and invite Kaiden too.” 

“A what?” Frank asked. Eddie also wasn’t sure what ‘Yankee Swap’ meant, but he was never going to turn down an invite to a party. Especially a party at Steve’s. The Harrington house hadn’t been the subject of a rager in quite a while, but if this was going to be anything like those parties, then it was not one to be missed. 

Plus it meant more time with Steve. 

“Dude!” Jonathan shouted from his car. 

“Coming!” Steve called back. He gave Eddie a quick flash of a smile before starting to run towards the car, waving a hand behind him as he did. 

“It starts at seven. See you then, Babydoll!” 

And then he was gone, disappearing into the car and driving away before any of them could give him a proper answer. 

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[unclewaynemunson]

There is thunder in our hearts

Eddie used to love thunderstorms. He loved it when he could feel the heavy electric tension in the air, when the skies got that dark shade of gray expanding over the horizon; he loved the anticipation of what was about to come. But most of all, he loved it when the clouds burst: the moment the skies broke open and the pouring rain, accompanied by the rolling thunder far away but swiftly coming closer, would sound like the opening chords to his favorite song. He loved running outside, standing in the dirt with his arms spread out wide, the taste of the water on his tongue and the rain washing away everything that didn't matter. He'd see other people sprinting from their cars to their houses and he would quietly laugh at them because they were missing out on the single most magical thing that nature had to offer.

Eddie used to love thunderstorms. Until that one time when the skies went gray and the thunder started roaring and all he could think about were bats crowding the air above him, long tails wrapping around his neck, claws and teeth tearing into his flesh, tears in Dustin's eyes...

He ran outside like he always did, hoping that the feeling would pass, hoping that the rain against his skin would remind him of exactly how alive he was; but no such thing happened. Wayne had to follow him into the storm and carry him back inside. He wrapped him in a blanket and made him a cup of hot cocoa and it took Eddie twenty minutes until he managed to stop crying and almost two days before he felt like himself again.

Ever since that happened, he stopped going outside during thunderstorms. Instead, he curls into himself now, as far away from the windows as possible. He plays his music at the loudest possible volume to not have to hear the thunder and he closes his eyes to not have to see the lightning. Sometimes, Wayne is there with him. He never asks, never pries; he simply keeps him company and hands him a blanket in case he feels the need to hide himself further away. He does what Wayne does best: letting Eddie know that he is safe by merely existing next to him, a quiet and calming presence who tells him stories in an attempt to distract him, his soft voice barely drowning out the sounds of the storm.

But Wayne isn't always there when a storm hits. He's often at the plant, or Eddie himself is at work, or with his friends. And it's fine. It isn't like that first time anymore, when he collapsed in the middle of a big muddy pool in front of the trailer and could see nothing but red skies or hear Dustin's screams ringing through his ears, the scent of decay filling up his nose until Wayne got to him and pulled him back into the present. It's not that intense anymore; he can blink those memories away and focus on the music or the voices around him instead. Even though it may still speed up his heartbeat and make his breathing uneven, he can keep functioning.

Or that's what he thought. Until he's in the car with Steve and a storm takes them by surprise and there's nowhere to hide; no way to get away from the window, to bury himself underneath a blanket under the pretense that he's cold, to do anything to take his attention away from it all. And maybe it's also because Steve is sitting right next to him: Steve, whose arms carried Eddie out of the Upside Down, the same arms that are now folded in front of his chest in the passenger seat of Eddie's van.

It's just heavy rain, at first; Eddie can handle rain, he's not a complete coward. But then he hears the rumbling thunder in the distance and his fists clench around the steering wheel and he almost forgets how to breathe. He starts pushing random buttons on the broken radio in the hope that it'll magically have repaired itself and start blasting Judas Priest to save him. Nothing happens, though. Of course not. And the rain only gets louder.

'Eddie,' says Steve, letting his name dance off his tongue in the last echoes of the thunder. Only a few months earlier, Eddie would've loved the sound of that, would have wanted to record the melody and play it on repeat forever.

'Hm?'

'Are you okay?'

Before Eddie can even start to answer that question, another deep rumble echoes through the skies while the rain starts beating even harder against the roof and the windows of his van.

'Eddie,' Steve repeats, more urgent this time. 'I need you stop driving. Right now.'

And Eddie immediately obeys.

'What's happening?' Steve asks as soon as they're standing still. His soft brown eyes wander over Eddie's face, attentive and worried.

'It's the goddamn storm, man,' Eddie explains in a choked voice.

Understanding dawns over Steve's features right away.

'Want me to drive you home?' he asks without missing a beat.

But Eddie shakes his head. 'I can't - can't get out. Of the car.' His mind takes him back to that moment when he collapsed in the middle of the trailer park - he can't do that again. Not anywhere, but certainly not here. With Steve.

'Okay, well, there's no way we're gonna keep driving like this,' says Steve. 'Let's wait it out, alright?' He doesn't talk to Eddie any differently, still seems practical as ever. Probably what years of experience with the craziest fucking supernatural shit does to a person, Eddie supposes. It's Steve at his core: act first, think later. Make sure everybody is – or feels – as safe as can be, the rest is secondary.

The thunder has come closer and a forked bolt of lightning flashes through the gray expanse of the sky. Eddie can't help but flinch at it.

Steve unbuckles his seatbelt and promptly starts climbing between the two front seats towards the back of the van. If Eddie was in any better mindset, he would probably have appreciated the view he is given much more.

'C'mon,' Steve says when he's sat on the ground, offering a hand through the two front seats. 'This seems like a good place to hide.'

Eddie has no choice but to take it. He ends up right next to Steve in the small space in front of the backseats, crouched down in a slightly uncomfortable position. Steve reaches further to the back to get the ratty old blanket that lies there and wraps it over both of them.

'Does this feel safer?'

Honestly, Eddie doesn't know. 'A little bit, I guess,' he mumbles, because that sort of feels like what the correct answer should be.

'You wanna talk about it?'

'Not really,' he admits.

'That's fine too,' Steve answers with a slight shrug. 'We can just sit here. Or do you want me to distract you?'

'I dunno.' It sounds quiet, with the way the big raindrops keep clattering onto the van. 'Wayne tells me stories, sometimes.'

''Bout what?'

'The olden days.' Eddie tries to use one of his dramatic voices, get things back to normal again, but the delivery doesn't land all too well. 'Shit he and my dad used to do. How my grandpa would get mad at them.' He pauses for a moment. 'Apparently my grandpa was scared of storms, too. And my dad. It runs in the family; that tends to happen when you're a farmer and a whole year worth of income can be destroyed by one single storm.'

'When I was younger,' Steve starts to tell, 'I was scared as shit of storms, too. I'd always make those huge pillow forts in the living room, put as many layers between me and the storm as I could.'

Eddie can picture it clear as day: a little version of the guy sitting next to him, with chubby cheeks and shorter hair, hauling a whole bunch of cushions and blankets around to make himself feel safe. It helps him take his mind off what's happening on the outside of the van.

'Sometimes my dad would crawl in there with me,' Steve continues. 'And he would wrap his arms all around me – like this – one more layer, y'know.' He shuffles to haul Eddie into his arms. They're warm against Eddie's own skin, and it is indeed comforting, so Eddie doesn't complain.

'Try to relax, okay?' Steve says. 'I'm right here, and I'll stay here with you for as long as you need. I won't let anything happen to you.' He tightens his grip and urges Eddie to let himself fall against Steve's chest. Eddie has no choice but to sway the way Steve wants him to and lands with his head right on top of Steve's heart. The fabric of his dark green polo is soft against Eddie's cheek and the sound of his heartbeat gets added to the symphony of the storm. He tries to focus solely on that heartbeat, complemented by Steve's breathing, Steve's voice – it makes it easier to drown out the sounds of the storm.

'I hate that this had to happen,' Eddie quietly admits. 'It used to be one of my favorite things in the world, standing outside in the pouring rain. Made me feel alive more than anything else.'

'It sucks,' Steve agrees. He raises one hand to put it on Eddie's head, softly stroking over his hair like he's a cat. 'After the first time we fought it,' he continues, 'when we, you know, pieced together what must've happened to Barb... I couldn't swim anymore. I was terrified of my own backyard. Nance helped me get through it, told me I should face my fears head on. She went to the library and got a whole bunch of books about phobias and traumas and kept talking to me about “exposure therapy.” I was skeptical about it at first, but it actually helped.'

Eddie chuckles darkly. 'Wanna know what happened when I tried to face this shit head on?'

'What?'

'I fucking lost it, man. Went out into the storm like I always did, and just – it was like I was back there. I lost my goddamned mind and Uncle Wayne had to pick up the pieces.'

Steve hand keeps stroking over Eddie's hair while he wraps the other one around Eddie's nervously fumbling fingers.

'We can try it together,' he says. 'We don't have to do it right now. Just... whenever you're ready. If you want to.'

Eddie nods. He isn't sure if he'll ever be ready, but at least doing it with Steve seems less daunting than doing it alone.

Another thunderclap, louder than any of the previous ones and accompanied by a bright flash of lightning, makes Eddie jump in Steve's arms.

'Try not to pay attention to it,' Steve says. 'It's gonna be over before you know it.' And then he starts humming. He even starts rocking Eddie in his arms. It should make him feel embarrassed, Eddie thinks, like he's a fucking child. But it doesn't. It helps him to let the sounds of the raging storm fade to background noise, finally taken over by the symphony that is Steve.

By the time the storm dies down, Eddie is pretty sure he must have fallen asleep at some point, because somehow he imagines that Steve presses a gentle kiss against his temple.