WHERE Eddie’s room at Fox Way WHEN At like 5am or something ridiculous this morning WHAT Steve gets his canon bump and has a bone to pick STATUS Complete! WARNINGS Spoilers for Vol 2, talks of death and people not making it, sadness, minor breakdown.
Steve had already heard about these so-called memory dumps, from Nancy, from Hopper, El.. He wasn’t sure what he’d pictured in the before time, maybe a movie or whatever just being downloaded into his brain.
And in a way it kind of was like that. But goddamn, who would want a depressing ass movie like the one they were stuck in? Nobody. Nobody wanted or needed that shit.
Steve stumbled out of bed in the early pre-dawn hours, before anybody in their right mind was awake. He could’ve gone down to the living room and fiddled around, but instead found himself outside Eddie’s door, lingering, still in his pajamas, hair sticking every which way.
Don’t try to be cute, he’d said. He’d told them they could run. Instead, Eddie had been the goddamn hero, and had sure as fuck gotten himself killed in the process. Helping them. Eddie hadn’t asked for any of this shit, but he’d still stepped up and helped them out, and Steve didn’t know if he wanted to strangle him or hug him.
He rested his head against the door for a second before trying the knob without knocking, figuring if Eddie had company over he’d just-- slip back out? Who the fuck knew. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Steve just knew he had to check on Eddie himself, despite having seen him the night before. He just had to be sure. So he slipped in unannounced, quiet, squinting just in case Eddie had over whoever he’d gone out with before.
“Munson?” Steve whispered as he silently tiptoed in, letting his bravado take over.
Eddie and Kate’s arrangement was pretty simple, all things considered. Kate’s dating profile had laid her position out: the woman she loved had disappeared thanks to Vallo’s whims and she was on the rebound. Eddie had been straightforward on his position the first time they’d gone out: there was someone he liked, and, even if he considered it a longshot, he wasn’t looking for anything more than casual, no-strings-attached fun. It was an arrangement that worked well for both of them, and it had gone without saying that neither one of them were planning on inviting the other to their place where they might run into each other’s families. Eddie hadn’t even been sure he’d wanted Steve to know – it felt too much like using Kate to make Steve jealous, which was stupid because Steve wasn’t likely to get jealous anyway, and so if that was going to be his angle he’d have only been disappointed. He was glad that Steve did know, in the end; he was keeping too much from him already to really be comfortable with hiding something else from him.
All said, meant that Eddie was, thankfully, complete alone. Alone, and somewhere in that state between wakefulness and sleep, because Eddie didn’t sleep so well these days unless there were other people around.
He’d thought, at first, that his bedroom door opening had been the tailend of some dream that had woken him up, something he could ignore, but it set him on edge nevertheless, and he laid in bed, back to the door, listening with all his might for anything else. Was that a shuffling, he heard? Someone – something? - breathing?
And then he heard someone speak, and he was up with a yell, brandishing his pillow like a weapon – as if it would have done anything against any kind of real threat. It took him a moment to realize that the silhouette, with it’s weirdly shaped, almost spikey head, was Steve fucking Harrington with bedhead, sneaking into his room in… what? The middle of the night? It was still dark outside, but the sky was lightening in a way that suggested that dawn was coming soon.
“Jesus H. Fucking Christ, Harrington,” he laughed, relieved, sinking against the wall, the plaster cool against his back. He clutched the pillow to his bare chest. “You scared the shit out of me. What the fuck are you doing here?” There was a pause, and the grin was obvious in his voice, even if Steve couldn’t make out his features. “Did you have a bad dream? Don’t worry, I’ll let you sleep here with me. I’ll be the big spoon.”
Fuck, Steve wasn’t even sure he could joke right now. He wanted to tease Eddie about pulling a pillow on him instead of an actual weapon, but he also felt bad about startling him and then he spiraled towards death guilt again. Survivor’s guilt? Steve didn’t fucking know. He just knew his breathing was suddenly a little more ragged and he was starting to pace in the dark room without any hesitation.
Pacing is what stopped him from grabbing Eddie full force and either strangling him or hugging him.
“This shit is fucked, Munson. All of it. Vecna, the Upside Down. Everything we’ve all gone through, and for what? I don’t even know how to wrap my head around--” Steve raked both hands through his hair and messed it up even further. He couldn’t see the floor, which was a problem when he jammed his bare toe into the edge of something- Eddie’s amp, maybe. And went down part of the way with far more swearing. “Fucking shit fuck fuck- Ow.”
Steve’s head dropped to rest on the edge of Eddie’s bed and he groaned. “This is bullshit.”
Eddie didn’t know what he expected with Steve tiptoeing into his room in the middle of the night, but it hadn’t been… this. He laid aside the pillow and was just about to get up from the bed to grab Steve and make him stop when he heard the loud thump of Steve walking into his amp. He grimaced in sympathy: those corners could be sharp in the dark.
At least it got Steve to sit still for a moment.
Eddie slid off his bed to sit next to him on the floor, and after a moment’s hesitation, stroked his hair in what he hoped was a comforting way like the way Wayne used to when he’d freak out as a kid.
“Hey, so, this is probably a dumb question, but are you alright?” he asked.
“Am I-” Steve choked off with a humorless laugh, one that took even him by surprise as he barked it out. He felt bad, knowing that most of the house was asleep, and shut up a half second later, but that didn’t stop the incredulous look he gave to Eddie.
He shook his head as a way of answering, but it wasn’t enough. None of this shit was ever going to be enough, not at this point. Robin had been worried they wouldn’t make it out and Steve let his pride get in the way of assuming they’d all be fine. What a joke. He was a damn joke.
“You knew already, didn’t you?” Steve knew he probably should specific, but the last few weeks all rolled in on once and he was reminded of the secrets, of all the times Robin shot Eddie looks when he was in the room and Steve just shrugged it off. “About home? About everything that happens after, with Vecna?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, withdrawing his hands and crossing them over his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits. “Yeah, I knew. I meant to tell you.” He had, too, had once even gotten so far as saying Steve, I need to talk to you before muttering something about his conditioner and running away. Robin had told him to be bluntly casual, but it was hard to be blunt or casual about a thing that you were trying very hard to pretend didn’t happen at all. He’d decided, in the end, that he actually would write a song, even if he’d only suggested it as a joke, originally. Some sort of sugary pop tune, except it turned out that Eddie had no idea how to write pop songs, and nothing actually came out sounding right. “Robin wanted to tell you, but I made her promise not to.”
He should have known better, once the others had started getting memories of those last days. Should have known that sooner or later, Steve would remember it too. But for a while there, it felt like maybe if Steve didn’t know, Eddie could pretend it had never happened at all.
“Jesus.” Steve raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck.” It wasn’t eloquent or even really what he wanted to say, but it was all his brain could manage on such a quick turnaround. “Am I the last one to know?” He was hurt by that, but it felt unfair, and Steve gripped his hair a little tighter. “No, nevermind, you don’t have to answer, that was- shit.”
His feelings were still a little hurt by Robin knowing and not telling him anyway but he knew she’d do the same for him, just as he’d done for her. So-- whatever. It was whatever.
Steve looked over at Eddie and actually stared this time, maybe it was a little unnerving, especially as they sat here in the darkness, his eyes adjusting to the dim light was the only reason he could even see Eddie. He had flashes of running into Dustin as they all escaped the Upside Down, of Dustin crying, of the story-- Steve’s eyes shut again. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry.”
Having Steve staring at him was unnerving. He liked having his attention on him, he worked at it sometimes, but right now he wished it wasn't. He pulled a lock of hair across his face.
"Max doesn't know," Eddie said, but of course she couldn't know. Robin has told him what happened to Max. "Henderson's a smart kid so he's probably put two and two together, given how he found me, but I don't think he remembers it yet. I'm not 100% on the rest of the kids though." He thought Mike and Will might've known, but it wasn't like they'd all sat down and talked about it.
Eddie wanted to ask how they could have left him there, but he knew better: there'd have been no way to get him through the gateway in his ceiling, and even if they did what were they supposed to do with the body? The Upside Down was as convenient a place to hide a body as anywhere. He wanted to tease Steve and ask if he'd cried very hard, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do that either.
So instead he let go of his hair and shot Steve a smile, tight and strained but maybe that wouldn't be super noticeable in the dim light. "Anyway, it's not a big deal. It's not like I actually died. Magical healing, man, it's," he let out a bark of laughter, "it's something else. You think El would be very angry if we raided her waffles?"
Not a big deal. Steve begged to differ, they’d lost one of their own. It wasn't like losing Billy, that fuck, this one had hit all of them. Eddie had gotten pulled in unfairly, but they were here now. They all had a second chance.
It meant they had one more thing to be worried about with people leaving, though, and Steve wasn’t a fan of that. It would’ve sucked to separate even more of them but now with both Eddie and Max? Fuck, he hated it. He was supposed to be taking care of these people, not letting them give up their lives for Hawkins.
“Yeah,” Steve sounded kind of hollow but muffled it by running his hands over his face. He pushed himself up off the floor and held his hand out for Eddie to take. “She might, but I’ll just get her double next grocery day. I know just how much she stashes in the freezer. I’ll take the fall.”
Eddie grabbed Steve’s forearm and pulled himself up, glad, very glad, that Steve had decided to take Eddie’s topic change. “Alright, so this gives me permission to blame you every time I eat her waffles, right?”
“No,” Steve huffed out a laugh at the request, but he wasn’t feeling that generous. “Just this once, fucker.”
Though to be honest, if Eddie had blamed every missing waffle on Steve, he would’ve only half-heartedly protested.
With his arm firmly clasped around Eddie’s, he made a split-second decision to pull him in for a hug. It was similar to how he’d done with Dustin in the past, but-- different, somehow, in a way that Steve wasn’t quite ready to own up to.
Eddie, so far, had managed to avoid feeling the whole 'oh shit I guess I died' thing too strongly. Vallo was very good at one thing, and that thing was distraction. He'd managed to read through all of Wheel of Time and was now switching between the History of Middle Earth books that had been published after 1986 and Malazan Book for the Fallen. There were forty years and multiple universes worth of movies to watch, and metal to listen to. He had five editions of D&D to catch up on and was writing two campaigns – one for Vallo at large and one just for the people in this house. He had so much music to listen to and learn and teach that he hardly knew where to start. Kate was teaching him archery and was a good distraction physically too.
It was as if Eddie didn't give himself time to think about it, it didn't have to actually happen – when his time at Vallo was done he could go home, and give his Uncle Wayne a hug and the rest of Hawkins the middle finger, and then he could finally graduate high school and go literally anywhere else.
Except here Steve was, standing in his room and hugging him, the sky outside his bedroom window just starting to lighten, and Eddie was suddenly viscerally aware that he wasn't going to be able to flip Principal Higgins the bird as he grabbed his diploma, and wasn't going to be able to call Wayne from his new apartment in whatever city he ended up, wouldn't be able to convince Steve and Dustin to come visit him. This was it.
He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't, but the noise that escaped his throat sounded suspiciously like a sob, and he had to press his palms into his eyes, arms wrapped tightly around Steve's back, to stop them from leaking all over Steve's shoulder.
A few years ago, Steve would’ve cracked a joke or brushed all of this off, but that Steve wasn’t this Steve, who had grown a lot both in age and in brain, where he’d matured and these days his first instinct was to squeeze a little harder.
He held on for a few long moments, to give Eddie time to get his shit together without Steve having to say anything or look him in the eye - in case he needed that. He knew nothing he could say would’ve made this shit any better, so Steve just waited until the arms wrapped around him didn’t feel quite so tight, or the shaking had calmed, before pulling away.
Steve reached out to pat a hand on Eddie’s bare chest. “I’m going to make some waffles, but you should put a goddamn shirt on, Munson. It’s distracting.”
Eddie let out a wet hiccup of a laugh. This would, of course, be the perfect time to say something flirtatious, but all Eddie could manage was a “Fuck off, Harrington,” and a light shove toward the door.
He felt like shit, really, but he also felt, somehow, lighter than he had before Steve had come barging into his room in the middle of the night, like some sort of weight had been lifted. He didn’t know if it was because Steve finally knew or because he’d just sobbed all over Steve’s shoulder, but he did know one thing: If he hadn’t had it bad for Steve Fucking Harrington before (he had), he was definitely in trouble now.