"I feel him." El insists. "Alive."
She hasn't said his name since Will first raised them all over the walkie, but every person in the room knows who she means.
Not that Steve can say his name either.
"But we watched him die." Nancy says gently, before Dustin properly loses it from where he sits in the corner. "Owen's even sent someone back through to check."
"Yes." El agrees, but it's clear she's frustrated. "He died here. But he's not alive here, he's alive over there."
"In the Upside Down?" Steve asks, and pretends his voice isn't cracking with desperation and barely concealed hope.
"No!" El snaps, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself to try again. "Through the other gate."
"Okay." Hopper cuts in, hands waving in some kind of "stay calm" gesture. "El, honey, I think we're all still hung up about the other gate." He pauses, before adding. "And how Creel dying opened it."
El gives him a thousand yard stare.
"I'm getting the crayons." Joyce sighs as she stands up. In a mutter she continues, "Should have gotten them to begin with."
Silently, Steve agrees.
xXx Eddie xXx
It goes like this.
A bat breaks through the side of the trailer. It swoops low, teeth rattling, but it doesn't attack.
It emits an odd, echoing screech, before flying through the gate, to the Rightside-Up.
"Shit." Dustin curses wildly. "Shit, they're gonna try and invade!"
"I thought they were guarding the gate!" Eddie protests, as that echoing scream returns tenfold, coming from the mouths of too many demobats. “If they wanted to invade wouldn’t they have done that already!?”
"No, because Vecna was focused on opening more gates! This must be his plan--to open enough gates to push an army through. We have to lead them away!"
"Dustin-!" Eddie calls out desperately, but finds himself overwhelmed by bats as more and more break through.
He fights through them, trying to get to Dustin, trying to listen to what the kid’s screaming.
He can’t hear him.
Not over all the screeching, the beating bat wings and the thudding noises as they smack at his head. Their teeth snap, tearing into every piece of him they can reach.
Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been surrounded, but he hears the trailer door bang open--and shut.
"Dustin!" He screams this time, voice as loud as he can make it.
The kid’s faster than he is.
He’d planned this--or at least, had thought about it long enough to get himself a solid head start, leaving Eddie scrambling after.
Fighting through the torrents of bats. Abandoning the gate because Hawkins can burn for all he cares--but there are people who don't deserve to go down with it.
People like Henderson, who have bright futures ahead of them.
Eddie tears his way towards Dustin, unthinking, just running.
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid-!’ He thinks, but not at Dustin.
At himself, because he knows the kid. Knows what to expect from how he acts in games.
Steve even called it--and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think he was talking to both of them when he warned them about not being a hero. He was included purely because Dustin would fuss otherwise and they were short on time.
Dustin’s on the ground when Eddie finds him, and he whips his spear at the few dozen bats that attack him, their bodies circling, teeth biting.
He gets in two good hits before shit hits the fan.
To his right something explodes, flames high and reaching, a thunderous boom whipping out so loud that Eddie's ears ring.
A shockwave nearly takes him off his feet, bandana pulled from his head and freeing his hair.
Eddie crashes on the ground next to Dustin.
Sees all the blood and doesn't know what to do.
"Come on man." Eddie pleads. "Come on!"
He doesn't get an answer.
It goes like this.
Vecna’s dead.
The blast that killed him was from some kind of explosion that took out all of Creel House.
It fireballed skyward, and the Upside Down rapidly began doing….something, seconds after.
Returning, Eddie decides, to whatever it was before the asshole got thrown in here.
Or dying, maybe.
(This is easier to think about than the fact that no one could have survived that blast. That there's a black hole Eddie can see, and it has to wrap miles and miles around the Creel House because he's still near his trailer.
It the trees down the stupid hill didn't make it then Robin, and Nancy, and Steve--
He stops. Shakes his head.
If Eddie thinks about it, it will make it real.
He can't let it be real.),
The monsters all fall as one, dropping to the ground like puppets with cut strings.
Eddie had been pummeled by a few demobat bodies before he could get clear, though given how some still occasionally twitch and hop around weakly after, Vecna's death doesn't necessarily equal their own.
Madly, he crushes a few beneath his boots.
Knows that won't bring his friends back.
Stomps on a few more because he can't do anything about that, and he can't cry any harder.
It goes like this.
Eddie gets back topside to find Vecna's revenge in action.
It's an act worthy of a mad god, not that Eddie would ever give him such a title.
Hawkins wasn't split. It was consumed, with large portions falling deep into the earth that opened under it. Smoke chokes half the town from an outburst of fires, while downed trees and electrical lines make walking a chore.
The road is a cracked and pitted mess, littered with holes large enough to swallow entire cars.
Passage is nigh impossible by car, and downright dangerous by foot.
It makes Eddie want to sink to his knees in despair.
There were still people around, that first day.
There were still people around the second and fifth days too.
But then the monsters appear.
They're not the demobats, or demodogs or even the demogorgons that Eddie was told of.
They're something--else.
Mutated and mutating, taking on appearances that reflect both the Upside Down and the Right-Side Up (a term coined by one of the freshmen--Eddie can't recall which.)
Actual flowers, great purple and orange looking blooms sprout teeth and attack. Vines stick out of arcade cabinets, carting them around like a hermit crabs shell.
Some people breathe the falling little pieces of ash and suddenly aren't people anymore.
(It was Erica, who had coined the term. The Right-Side Up.
Erica who was also deceased, because the fucking explosion didn't just take out the Upside Down version of the Creel house, but the real one too.
Which meant Max and Lucas and Erica…
But Eddie's not thinking about that.)
It goes like this.
Wayne's gone.
He'd been at the plant when the Earth had swallowed it, his first day back to work because he'd used all his PTO trying to find Eddie.
The coworker who watched it happen makes sure to tell Eddie his uncle insisted he was innocent. That the old man never stopped looking.
Likewise, the trailer is gone.
It fell barely a day after Eddie had climbed out of it, one half eaten while the other teetered dangerously on the edge.
There's cops at the borders of the city.
They’re been commandeered by the military and the feds both, and people in heavy gear prowl around like guard dogs just waiting to be let off leash.
Helicopters fill the air, always circling and searching. Units of men and women begin parading around with guns as they escort tanks and other battle equipment through the streets.
They're looking for something besides the monsters, and they're happy to cut the phone lines and police the survivors to find it.
No one's allowed in--or out.
Eddie tries to escape the first few days, after he realizes everyone who knew the truth is gone.
Thinks maybe he can get to the Byers, and that super powered girl out in California, but keeps getting cut off.
Twice they've nearly caught him, which means twice Eddie has been forced to come to terms with the fact that he's one of the things they're after.
They know him by name.
They know he was involved in Creel's takedown.
Eddie"s not just being hunted by the town now.
He’s being hunted by the United States as a whole.
It goes like this.
Eddie doesn't want to die.
Can't bring himself to take his own life, forever too much of a coward.
So he berates himself while he hides.
Wonders what the fuck his plan is here.
Focuses on surviving, stealing food, sleeping in people he loves houses and hoping maybe some of them made it out.
(Given how Gareth's and Jeff's places are both untouched, he doesn't think they did.)
He’s never prayed before but now he’s praying to every deity he can think of. Hoping, wishing, that if he can’t get out alive, he at least goes down quickly.
It goes like this.
Steve Harrington walks out of the woods with a nailbat in his hands, like a blood soaked fever dream.
Eddie doesn't care.
He hugs him so hard his own ribs hurt and the crazy thing is Steve hugs him back even harder.
"You're alive." Eddie sobs, face buried in Steve's shoulder.,"You're alive, you're alive…"
Steve grips him for a moment before whispering back; "And so are you."
He pulls away and Eddie struggles against him, not ready to let go, fingers grasping at his shirt.
Steve strokes his hair, his stupid tangled, gross hair and Eddie looks at him, desperately needing the contact to prove that Steve is real.
That he’s here.
"I need you to listen--I'm not your Steve." Steve says, and Eddie’s so desperate for contact that the words don’t register for a moment.
Not that they make sense when they do.
"What?" Eddie asks.
"There’s a--okay.” Steve sighs, before saying; “I am going to absolutely blow the explanation, but I need you to trust me.”
“I do.” Eddie says, even as Steve fulfills his own prophecy, and gives a completely nonsensical explanation.
At the end of it, Eddie can’t bring himself to care.
As long as he has Steve back--even if it’s not technically his Steve, Eddie will follow him wherever he goes.
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can.. can I ask for an affectionate reader with characters who aren’t normally like… used to the love? like, not just through words but physical affection like hand-holding, kisses, hugs, all that shebang. probably with a few people like yelan, ei, basically any character that is either cut-off from society or seems socially distant or isolated. 😞
☆ affectionate reader with yelan, ei, & furina
[ 4.2 Archon Quest spoilers ]
× yelan
Varies between how you display your affection, to be honest. Just like being affectionate with people? She's cool with it as long as you don't pop by while she's working (mostly because she'll end up dragging you into it for a bit of fun). I don't think she's all that touchy feely herself, but she'll absolutely get you gifts instead– like pretty knick nacks? She'll make sure to snag any she thinks you might like. Like a good meal? Sure, she'll take you out to one of the restaurants in the city, doesn't matter how expensive. Her treat. If you do prefer physical gifts rather then being taken out, you'll eventually get used to the random unmarked letters and packages showing up where your staying pretty often. It's obvious to know who it came from even if she never signs anything.
Flirty reader, though? Whole nother can of worms and now it's a challenge. The more confident you are the more interested she is. The other acolytes would absolutely seethe at the idea but she has no hesitation at just straight up flirting back– she's as charismatic as they come and she's got a poker face that's basically impenetrable. She'll probably also make a bet to see who cracks first (she always wins, unsurprisingly). Probably won't get dragged into any of her schemes this way but if you ask politely maybe she'll consider it, anyway.
The smell of freshly brewed tea and the clatter of dice across wood was a common sight at the Yanshang Teahouse– less common was the woman secluded in the far corner, her lips pulled into a grin that flashed fangs and a look that would scare off the most confident of men.
She'd normally try to scope out any new blood that'd made the mistake of stepping into her teahouse and was equally stupid enough to accept a gamble against her just for the thrill of it, but she was far too absorbed in the warm body at her side, one of her die clasped tightly in their hand as she guided them through the motions– they had a knack for it, she had to admit. The thought made her preen, the clatter of the die as it rolled across the table giving her that subtle, familiar rush.
Even if she knew exactly where it'd land.
"Six. Hm, maybe you're just lucky," She muses, plucking the die from the table and holding it up to her eye like a prized jewel, "Or maybe you're not as innocent as you'd have us believe." There's a sharp glint in her eyes at the prospect, but everyone else has the sense to keep their heads down and their words to themselves as she tosses the die herself.
"So why don't we find out and make a bet, just between you and me?"
× ei
Varies between Ei and the Shogun, because you'll probably be seeing either as much as the other. Sometimes you gotta really squint to tell who it is sometimes, but you get used to it. Both are fairly similar, though, in that their first instinct (especially in public) is to tense up like you're about to attack them or something. Difference is Ei eventually relaxes after a solid minute of trying to process your sudden affection and, if no one else is around, she might even reciprocate. Just don't tease her for being a little stiff and awkward about it, she's trying. That's what happens when your only company is a robot and uh. Nothing. For like 500 years. She's trying. Raiden, on the other hand, is just about as awkward as you can imagine. She's polite (blunt) about it because Ei is fond of you and also you are. The Creator. But she's not really built to deal with personal relationships and so she doesn't know how to deal with affection.
..Depending on what you do you may or may not blue screen Ei hard enough that she retreats back to PoE
Ei usually isn't fond of sitting still, unless it's to meditate. At least then she goes in with a purpose, something to achieve– but now, she's just focused on trying not to make a fool of herself. Her muscles are starting to ache from how hard she's tensing, though, in an effort to sit as straight and still as possible as their hands glide through her hair, weaving it into a single braid.
She can just barely hear the subtle lilt of their voice as they hum– and though it is soothing, it is also..very distracting. She can't focus long enough to try and meditate, too lost in the gentle rise and fall of their voice and the care they take to braid her hair. If she'd had a heart, she'd sure it'd be beating so wildly against her ribcage they could hear it.
But then it stops– their hands fall back to their sides and their humming falters. She freezes, too, racking her brain for any slights she must have committed. Instead, she is met with a calm, tender touch on the back of her neck, making her inhale sharply.
"Am I making you uncomfortable, Ei? You're so tense.." She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from bowing so low her head presses against the ground, her hands folded in her lap, clenching instinctively. "..No, Divine One." She answers simply, trying to contain the adoration swelling in her chest.
Yet as much as she tries to relax, to ease their worries, she finds that she cannot.
"Hm." That small murmur, a simple sound that nearly made her jump, was the only warning she got before they scooted closer, wrapping their arms around her stomach and resting their chin on her shoulder with a grin she would liken to Miko's, if she dared to make such a comparison. "Really?"
She swears she must've been feverish at the affection, lightheaded and dazed until she thought she might simply perish at the brush of their hands against her own.
Much to her embarrassment, however, she doesn't realize she's instinctively pulled back into Plane of Euthymia until she sees the familiar dull purples engulf her vision once again.
Though only a small solace, it seemed a little..brighter, this time.
× furina
Varies between pre 4.2 and post 4.2 archon quests to be honest.
Pre 4.2 she comes off as very vain– of course the most Divine would see fit to spoil her with affection! She deserves it, and is obviously their favorite! Just don't look too hard because she's terrible at hiding how flustered she actually is. Absolutely goes home right after and screams into her pillow for at least thirty minutes minimum.
Post 4.2 she's a lot more openly bashful and flustered. She's really not used to affection and even the smallest show of it has her folding immediately. Now that she doesn't need to worry about being found out she's a lot more receptive to affection. Cup her cheeks and compliment her and her knees are buckling. Like. Especially weak for compliments and praise (she deserves it. please spoil her).
She swears she must be hallucinating– she had been having trouble sleeping recently. But..no. The visage of the Creator was as real as the sweat beading on her brow as she stared at them for a long, awkward moment. Should..she let them in? But then they'd see the pathetic state she was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of them-!
Her choice was quickly made for her, anyway, as she let out an undignified squeak of surprise when they suddenly tugged her forward into their chest, enclosing her in a hug.
Her first reaction was to freeze– her second was becoming absolutely flustered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink and her mouth closing and opening as she tried to find her words.
"I– ah..um." She stumbled over her words instead, floundering like a fish out of water. Yet she felt a distinct sense of emptiness wash over her when they finally pulled back, looking a touch sheepish. "Sorry, sorry– you just looked like you needed a hug."
The silence spoke for itself, her shoulders tensing slightly. But the way the concern and affection bled through their voice made her waver, her hands trembling as she let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a sigh.
"It's..It's fine! Fine, I'm fine." She repeated, trying desperately to ignored the way her voice cracked and how hot her face felt– though it was more an attempt to affirm herself that she was not thinking about how warm they felt, how much she..actually enjoyed the hug. She wasn't thinking about it all! Absolutely not!
..Maybe a little.
"Just warn me next time, please?"
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post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3
4251 words
“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”
Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”
“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”
“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”
read on ao3
Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—
“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.
Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”
Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”
“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”
Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”
“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.
Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”
“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.
“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”
“There was more?”
“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”
“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.
“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.
Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”
Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”
Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.
And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.
That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.
Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”
Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”
Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”
“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”
Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”
“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”
“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”
“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.
Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.
Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”
“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”
And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?
And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.
So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.
Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”
Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”
And Buck turned on the TV.
Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.
“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.
“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.
He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.
Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”
Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.
His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.
“Okay. Let’s go home.”
The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.
During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.
When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.
“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.
Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”
Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”
Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”
Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”
Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”
Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.
Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”
Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”
“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”
“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”
For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.
Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.
Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”
Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”
Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”
Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”
She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”
Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”
Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”
Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.
When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”
“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”
Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”
Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”
“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.
“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.
“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”
“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”
Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.
Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.
His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.
“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?
He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.
“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.
Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—
“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”
—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.
And Buck asked.
And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.
“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”
“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.
Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.
Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.
“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.
“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”
“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.
Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”
Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”
Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”
“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.
Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”
Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”
Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”
No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.
“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”
Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”
Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”
Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.
“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”
Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.
“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”
Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.
Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.
Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”
Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”
“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.
Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”
Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.
“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.
“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”
Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”
“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”
Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”
A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”
Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.
And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.
Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.
Just this. Forever.
“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”
Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.
“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.
“What?” Eddie said.
“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.
“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.
“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”
“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”
“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”
“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”
“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”
“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.
“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.
“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.
Eddie drew back. “What?”
“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.
She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.
“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.
Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.
“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”
Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.
“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.
Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.
Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.
“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”
“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.
“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”
“You do?” Eddie asked.
“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.
“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”
Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.
“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”
Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”
Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”
“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.
Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”
Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”
He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.
Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.
“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”
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Hi I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a senku x female reader where he has a crush on an older tattooed foreigner who was on vacation in Japan when the world was petrified
I've had this sitting for a minute tbh, but mostly bc I didn't want there to be too many spoilers for anime-onlys 😭😭 mostly for how tattoos work,,, Don’t be surprised if there’s a heavy focus on language plot wise, I’ve been working on a lot of linguistics homework 😞
Anyways, hope you enjoy
Science Makes Age Complicated (Ishigami Senku x Reader):
Warnings: technically an age gap but also not (reader was once 2 years older than Senkuu, but now they're the same age due to time shenanigans), fem!reader, some language use (a few swears here and there), reader is American (RIP but it’s plot relevant), reader is implied to know an insane amount of languages (bc this is Dr Stone and it’s relevant to world-building)
"Think you can scrounge something up for her, Yuzuriha?" Senku parts the lush shrubbery for his friend, unresponsive to her obvious surprise at the sight before her. He figured it would go that way, considering how kept away the whole area is, but he'd rather start the spectacle with her big reactions instead of the loud and boisterous version involving the rest of their crew, "I'm more than sure you'll manage to make her something she's 1 billion percent comfortable in."
He'd considered this statue his secret weapon for the next part of their excursion. Well, that would be his explanation as to why he'd waited so long to unveil her and finally free her from her encasement. Really, he could never find the proper time to finally revive her, especially when every time it would feel right to, something else would arise that would require them to use the revival fluid for someone else.
When talks of traveling to the Americas came up, he knew it'd be the perfect time to properly reveal her and, hopefully, ease her into their current predicament. While Gen is a great diplomat, thew mentalist isn't exactly fluent in as many languages as the girl in the statue before them. Even more, if they are to run into more people (which they very likely are), it's better to have at least two representatives to talk things over. That's going to be his reasoning, anyway.
Deep down, he's a little nervous to finally see her again, especially now that he's technically older than her by a few months at least. The last time they'd seen each other had been the day before the petrification light, the two decided to spend time with each other before he went back to school. She was visiting Japan for a bit, a trip she'd planned to make at least once a year since the two had officially met in person while he had been in America. Back then, she'd been 17 to his 15, owning an American driver's license and a tattoo sleeve that left many of the older members of society scandalized.
"I don't think she's going to take being younger than us well," Yuzuriha mentions as she finishes up sewing the outfit she'd made for (Y/n). She worked fast, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead once she finished. She takes a step back once she's finished, watching as Senku steps forward, "Especially when she finds out how long it took for you to bring her back."
"She'll be fine. I'm 1 billion percent sure she's going to be grateful for it," He responds, popping the top off the tiny vial between his fingers. He doesn't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he lets the contents of the vial drip from the top of her head. The two watch expectedly as it eases its way down her body, stone cracking and parting in its wake, “She’s going to get to visit home, after all.”
The stone falls from her body, the life slowly coming back into her (e/c) orbs as more of her skin is revealed. Her tattooed sleeve remains, now accompanied by the petrification markings on her face and other parts of her body. A wave of confusion hits her as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings, but her shoulders relax a little as she takes in the two familiar figures next to her, "Senku...? Yuzuriha...?"
"Hey, (Y/n)," He immediately greets in response, an excited light coming to his eyes as ruby meets (e/c), "Looks like we're the same age now."
Yuzuriha flinches at his greeting, sighing with a shake of her head as she takes a small step closer to their friend. A nervous smile forms on her lips as she takes (Y/n) hands into her own, leading her out of the hidden away area into the light of the new world. She feels the grip tighten as (e/c) eyes dart around the surrounding forestry in an attempt to better understand the circumstances and environment, "We have a lot to catch you up on, but I'm sure if we ease you in slowly it won't cause you too much whiplash-"
"We don't have time for that, Yuzuriha. We still have to load the ship back up and travel to America," Senku waves the notion off, walking past the two of them and leading them back into the village. Neither of the girls miss the smirk on his face as he continues, unmoving as they gape at him like fish, "(Y/n) will catch up along the way."
He's bluffing, which they realize a little later when Ryusui recounts the plan to spend the next few days loading the ship and replacing the items they used on their last voyage. (Y/n) is assimilated faster into their new society than she can process, the rest of their group taking the basic information they're fed and working with it. Yuzuriha is eventually forced to leave her to fend for her own after a bit to attend to her own assignments and Taiju only stops to catch up for a bit (which is mostly him speed talking and making assumptions about how much she's been made aware of) before continuing to move along.
Senku doubts he'll ever admit it out loud, but he is grateful that they're the same age, even if he's technically older by a few months now. Standing next to (Y/n), who hadn't aged a day past the last time he'd seen her, was the reassurance he secretly needed about his own development. While his growth spurt, a result of the final pushes of puberty during the Stone Wars and roughing it during the New Stone Age, was the only difference he could notice next to her, (Y/n) had been hit with the whiplash of every other development.
To her, it felt like both a lifetime and a long night since she had seen Senku, yet he looked almost completely different and exactly the same. The remainder of his baby fat had rounded out of his cheeks, his face maturing nicely into that of a young adult, and he'd sprung up quite a bit in height. He was still lithe in comparison to Taiju, till thin and very much not built for too much physical labor, but he'd gotten a bit of meat on his bones to fill his arms out a little more. Despite that, he still looked like him, like the jerky boy she'd met by chance in middle school who would be the first person she'd show her newest tattoos to when she was 16 to get some kind of rise out of him.
Taiju and Yuzuriha were a further reminder of the weird passage of time, the two more developed in their own rights. He was beefier, still ever-muscular in a more defined way. His hands seemed rougher, but she didn't know if that had been due to the rougher circumstances or if they were always meant to get so rough with all the handy work Senku would put him up to. Yuzuriha had filled out a little, a few scars littering her hands from what (Y/n) could only assume was from her thread work she'd seem to consistently be working on since they'd gotten back to their stronghold. Her silky brown hair, which had once reached her waist and made a few of the girls from their school envious of its length, now barely reached past her shoulders in its bobbed shape.
She feels so out of place...
~~~~
The rush of information coming to people’s senses is always amusing to watch, but (Y/n) is taking a little more time to process than usual. Even now, a few days into her now being free from the stone prison, she still has more questions. They aren’t particularly scientific, more so just random observations that she really wants the answers to. She’s also hyper-analyzed the villagers' speech patterns, having them repeat their newer slang and pronounce random words in Japanese, English, and German (something they did not realize they were fluent in until she came around). In return, they ask her questions about the past (mostly Senku, Yuzuriha, and Taiju), the sleeve on her arm, and why the hell she knows so many languages already.
Senku can’t really be mad about it slowly down progress, he’s sure he’d slack off a little too if they didn’t have so little time to prepare for their trip across the sea. Neither of them miss the way their eyes longingly stare at one another, meeting a few times before either is dragged away by the others they’re surrounded by. It’s even worse that (Y/n) feels she hasn’t been able to get any time alone with him since they made it to the village. She’d been made aware of their plans once her confusion died down a little, even taking the time to freshen up on the main languages she’d be focused on for their trip and doing what she can to pitch in. Unfortunately, their different preparations would barely, if ever, cross over. Lowkey, it had been killing both of them inside, but they kept up appearances for the sake of getting things done.
She’d learned from Gen, who gave her brain a break by speaking in English with her, that Senku had kept her relatively well hidden. He’d visit her often, but no one had put together that’s what he’d been doing until now. Yuzuriha made it clear she’d only learned of (Y/n)’s whereabouts a little before they’d revived her. However, the brown-haired girl did mention that a few passing statements he’d made in the past were starting to make sense.
It took the last night before the Kingdom of Science would set sail again for (Y/n) to find time away from the others. Despite the various discussions scratching her brain in the best way possible in a new world, the dark blue of the night accompanied by the low noises of crickets and crashing waves gives her the solace she needs. While everything has mostly settled, or settled as much as it can, it's still moving so fast. To her, everything was normal yesterday and then dark for longer than she thinks possible to comprehend, "Maybe this is how Sleeping Beauty felt..."
"I doubt that," A familiar voice speaks up from behind her, the heels of his shoes clopping along the ground as he approaches. The gravel scrunches as he shifts to sit next to her, deep zircon-colored eyes staring out towards the ocean's expanse. He scoots a little closer to her, his head tilting as his pinky reflexively reaches to dig out of his ear, "Considering she typically is depicted to have been a young preteen when she first fell asleep and an older teenager when she wakes, I doubt there were many technological changes to throw her for such a loop, especially if the story takes place in a fictional version of the middle ages."
His eyes shift to peak at her instead, his typical grin filing onto his face. Somehow, they're one of his few features to remain the same despite his growing age. He's one of the reasons she's out here tonight, gathering her thoughts privately one last time so she can tuck them away to focus her attention more on to returning civilization.
Of course, she always thought he was good-looking, most people did. However, where they were turned off by his passion for science and technical engineering, she found it to be all the more endearing for his character. He had his pesty moments, but so did everyone else in some way. It added to his charm, "Didn't see you as the fables type, Senku."
"Had a friend who was super into literature. She read it in different languages to challenge herself," He teases in response, his gaze turning back to the sight before them, "Wonder where she is now..."
(Y/n) tugs her knees up to her chest, the irony of the comparison not lost on her, though made completely on accident. She pulls them closer, resting her cheek on them as she takes in the boy next to her, "Maybe she's trapped somewhere in a stone prison back in the woods."
She watches his chest rumble with his chuckle, a soft breeze picking up and spreading the smell of salt water. He's closer now, the smaller changes staring her in the face and taunting her. She'd wanted him this close to her again, just for the reassurance, but now... She kind of regrets it.
"I would've found her by now," He mumbles, the sound just barely reaching her ears. A fond smile slowly eases across his mouth as he returns his gaze to her, "Would've taken me a while to finally see her like this again, but I think it'd finally be worth seeing her again. Even with the circumstances."
"I'm sure she'd be grateful to see you again too, even with the circumstances."
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