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#eddie and dustin
torossosebs · 2 years
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.
He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.
So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.
“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.
Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”
He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.
Eddie screams.
Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.
He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.
Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”
And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.
And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.
“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”
“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”
“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”
“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”
“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”
And…
Well. That’s a development.
“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”
And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.
“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”
Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.
Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”
Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”
“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”
“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.
“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”
Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”
Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.
Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.
Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.
“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”
And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.
Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.
“Your lips are blue.”
“I’m f-fine.”
A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.
“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.
He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.
But instead—
“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”
“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.
Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.
“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.
Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”
“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.
Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”
Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”
Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.
“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”
“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.
There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…
Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.
At least, he would if he could stand up.
When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”
His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.
“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.
“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.
“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.
“Is—is Eddie—?”
“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.
And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.
For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.
But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.
He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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eddie's impression of steve harrington only really begins to turn around not because of henderson's constant insistence that he's a really cool dude now, but because of his brief interactions with robin goddamn buckley.
he first realises that she's affiliated with him when she pokes her head into hellfire club one day. she asks henderson if he's seeing 'the dingus' tonight, and when henderson confirms that he's picking them up, she tosses a green vest at his face. asks him to give it to him, since he's working an opening shift and left it at hers. eddie only realises later that she was talking about harrington, and the implication that he'd stayed overnight had him reeling. buckley was a weirdo. a band geek. what was king steve doing associating with her?
it only gets weirder. he goes to one of sinclair's games, and ends up a few rows behind harrington. he's whooping and cheering and so goddamn excited for the kid when he gets to play. when the band performs, he screams robin's name during the applause. she finds him in the crowd and sort of wiggles her shoulders excitedly in response. after the game, he sees him scoop her up in the biggest goddamn bear hug and kiss her on the cheek. not the kind of couple he'd expected, but they were cute. he supposed.
but then the kiddies stop her in the hallway a week or so later, asking something about a movie night at harrington's. eddie can't really help himself, he was a curious thing.
"so, buckley," he begins, leaning against a locker. "i'm dying to know how a band geek like you landed king steve as a boyfriend." to his side, henderson sighs, heavy and dramatic. robin gets the most genuinely disgusted face.
"oh, god. ew." she says, emphatically. "i am not dating steve. gross." she fucking shudders at the thought. eddie can't keep his jaw off the floor.
"no?" he asked. "but- the game, the other week. he kissed your cheek." she nodded. he gestured wildly in lieu of response, begging for more information.
"stevie and i," and eddie has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. because, seriously? stevie? she expects him to believe they're not together and she calls him stevie? "are strictly platonic. with a goddamn capital p! people can express platonic affection even if they're different genders!" henderson mocks her quietly, to which she whacks him on the arm. she turns back to eddie. "i think if anyone should understand, it'd be you, handkerchief."
eddie feels his stomach drop. robin's giving him a look. a knowing fucking look. arms folded across her chest, one eyebrow raised. surely not.
"you?" he asks. she nods. "so harrington-"
she cuts him off. "knows." and wow. wow. colour him fucking surprised. "was the first one to know. he's-" there's a pause. "he's cool. so fucking cool." she was so fond, smiling a little. "he's a really good guy. i love him to death."
and well... he believes her. truly fucking does. it's only then that he finally allows the walls he'd built around his opinions of steve harrington to falter, to allow himself to think maybe- just maybe- he is actually is a good dude.
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steddie x having no understanding of boundaries when it comes to dustin not being their actual child
steve: henderson, eddie and i are gonna need you to sign a few documents before we get married next month
dustin: okay. what for ?
eddie: listen kid, there’s no easy way to say this-
steve: it would only happen in the worst possible case scenario-
eddie: and we’ll do everything in our power to prevent it-
dustin: jesus christ ! you’re scaring me. spit it out already !
steve: essentially, your father and i need you to sign off on us having shared custody over you—on the slight, slight, practically nonexistent chance that we ever get divorced.
eddie: precisely.
dustin: um. you guys do know i have a mom, right ?
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mikhardwheat · 11 months
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Dustin is the only one who can communicate with a cursed man, who turned into a bat. Can be read without context, I suppose?
Steve is hanging out at Dustin's house (he gets lonely). Dustin does his hw, pointedly ignoring how Steve is petting the bat he told him multiple times is actually a human being.
Steve: I think, he likes me
Dustin:
Steve: don't you look cute, little thing
Steve: come here, come to da-
Dustin immediately turns in his chair. Steve stills under his glare, refusing to look his way.
Dustin: don't you dare finish that sentence
Steve: but-
Dustin: it's a grown-up man you're holding
Steve: he doesn't mind?
Steve looks at his chest, where the bat is plastered, wings all over his shirt.
Steve: you don't mind, do you?
The bat nods eagerly.
Steve: see?
Dustin: I have a better question for you
Dustin: do you hear?
Steve: now, that's just rude
Dustin: I'm not talking about your hearing, dumbass
Dustin: I'm talking about the Bat's thoughts
Dustin: do you hear them?
Steve: no?..
Dustin: obviously.
Steve looks at Dustin, then at the bat, then again at Dustin.
Steve: what's he's thinking about now?
Dustin: he...
Dustin:
Dustin: DUDE.
Steve jumps, the bat leaves his chest to sit at the Dustin's desk. It does some weird moves with its wings, clearly arguing about something.
Dustin: I don't care
Bat does some wiggling.
Dustin: keep it in your fucking non-existent pants
Bat looks warily Steve's way for a moment. Dustin's arms are now crossed over his chest and he looks pissed.
Steve: what's happening?
Dustin: nothing
He makes a pause, clearly listening to the bat.
Dustin: don't touch him anymore
Bat stills.
Steve: why
Dustin: I'm just repeating his words
For some reason, Steve's expression changes.
Steve: I- I just assumed he liked it too
Steve: I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission
Dustin: it's not-
Steve: I didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, I'm sorry
Dustin: Steve-
Steve: I- I probably should go, sorry aga-
Dustin: STEVE
He only now notices the bat crawling up his shirt. He stops in the middle of standing up to cup a hand around it, so it won't fall.
Dustin: you didn't make him uncomfortable
Dustin: the only one who's uncomfortable here is me
Steve: I'm not sure I follow?
Dustin: you make him... happy?
Steve: you mean, he likes me?
Dustin: I mean "he wants to fuck you", but close enough
Steve: oh.
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ryan-waddell11 · 1 month
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dorks (I love them so much)
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anironnn · 2 years
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The Dustin Henderson I knew would get Eddie Munson's body the hell out of there.
He would get him out, even if he had to pull and drag with his full strength and shake and cry his eyes out and break down and scream for Steve and the others to help him lift Eddie through the gate. He would get him out of that place if it's the last thing he did.
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madelynraemunson · 3 months
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he grew out his hair to look like eddie’s 🥺🥺🥺 dustin grief arc in full effect
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sustancy · 2 years
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tennant-the-tigger · 2 years
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Dad Hugs
Just some wholesome love. 
My Stranger Things Art | Steve’s Mcnuggets |  
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loveinhawkins · 16 days
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picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”
And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.
And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.
Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”
Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…
Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.
He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.
For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.
Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”
So he just keeps hugging back.
Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.
“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.
Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”
Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.
Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”
“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”
Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.
Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”
Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.
“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.
It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”
For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.
Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”
And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.
Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.
And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.
He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.
Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.
“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.
Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.
“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.
And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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dustin: what the FUCK!!? since when were you two friends?!?!?!
eddie, looking at steve, attempting to telepathically communicate 'so how do we tell him i've had my tongue in your mouth?': ... well...
steve, sensing this and slapping a hand over eddie's mouth, scandalised: he's a baby! you can't say that!
dustin, now even more confused: gu y s... wh a t
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lengthofropes · 1 year
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team Decoys preparations
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torossosebs · 2 years
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I wish everyone had gotten to know him. Really know him. Because they would've loved him, Mr. Munson. They would've loved him. Even in the end... He never stopped being Eddie. Despite everything. I have never saw him get mad. He could've run. He could've saved himself. But he fought. He fought and died to protect this town. This town that... hated him. He isn't just innocent... Mr. Munson, he's... he's a hero.
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kanataka-san · 2 years
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(Y/N): Nothing really gives me butterflies-
.
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Eddie:*gently ruffling (Y/N)s hair while pasing* make sure to not be late for Hellfire this time sweetheart.
.
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.
.
.
Dustin: you were saying?
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brbsoulnomming · 7 months
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 15
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | AO3
-----
Eddie can hear the sound of thunder overhead, the smell of rot fills his nostrils, and the taste of bile lingers at the back of his throat. Part of him has been fucking terrified beyond comprehension since the moment he went out onto the lake, but it's been kept at bay - barely - with reminding himself that the others are right there, with distracting himself by talking to Steve.
But he must have gotten separated from them, because when he looks desperately around the filthy, decaying forest, he's all alone.
"Steve?" he calls out, his heart pounding in his ears. "Robin, Nancy?"
There's silence, except the distant shriek of the demobats and a low, otherworldly growling, growing closer.
Shit.
He lurches forward, stumbling his way through the forest as he tries to remember where he was supposed to be going - the Wheelers' house, to get guns, or was it to his place, to go through the gate? He's so focused on where he's going that he doesn't pay close enough attention to his surroundings, and it's not long before he's stumbling over something.
A something that immediately grabs his ankle.
Eddie looks down, panic already filling him at the expectation of seeing a vine wrapped around his foot, of knowing that he'd alerted Vecna.
The thing on the ground is distinctly more humanoid, though, and Eddie has a brief moment where confusion wins out over panic - until a crackle of lightning streaks across the sky at the same time as the thing looks up, and he meets Chrissy's wide, vacant eyes.
Eddie screams, so loud he can feel it tearing through his throat the way he usually associates with a particularly good night at the Hideout. He scrambles back, forgetting what had drawn his attention to the ground in the first place, and nearly trips over himself when his ankle is held tight.
It's Chrissy's hand.
Her arm is broken and bent, stretched out at an angle that shouldn't be possible, fingers swollen and rotting, and yet her grip around his ankle is solid as steel.
You left me, echoes in his mind, cutting through his screams.
But not through his terror, and he keeps trying to yank his foot from her grasp even as he's shouting, "I'm sorry, Chrissy, I'm so fucking sorry, please-"
Chrissy's mouth opens in a silent scream as she stares up at him, neck broken and distorted, and she drags herself closer to him, her other hand reaching for him - though that arm is all twisted up behind her, and she can't quite make it.
"Please," he begs again, giving one more desperate yank of his leg.
It works, incredibly, but he wasn't expecting it, and he ends up on his ass on the ground in front of her.
Eddie tries to push himself up, but now she's so much closer, and she's able to grab his leg and drag him towards her.
"No no no no no no," he chants desperately, fingers scrabbling at dirt and leaves, trying to get a hand hold.
"Eddie?" someone calls, and he nearly weeps with relief as he realizes it's Steve.
Eddie starts to call back, but his hand slips and he's pulled closer into Chrissy's grasp, and he shrieks.
"Eddie, it's okay, I've got you," Steve says.
Something grabs his hand, and Eddie instinctively yells and tries to rip his hand free - but then he looks back, and realizes he recognizes the hand grabbing his.
Steve.
"Steve?" he asks, because he can't see him, fuck, he still can't see anything but Chrissy's bleeding eyes and the Upside Down and -
"It's all right, Eddie, you're okay. You're safe now, I've got you," Steve is saying, and Eddie doesn't -
The world tilts and fractures, and when he looks down at his legs, there's only sheets and blankets tangled around them.
His throat hurts, his shoulder and wrist hurt, his sides and stomach and legs hurt, just - fuck, everything hurts, and it's not helping that he can barely breathe and he feels like he's having a fucking heart attack and all he can see is still Chrissy's broken body and -
"Breathe," Steve says, and if Eddie had enough air for it he'd laugh, because shit, what does Steve think he's trying to do, and -
Steve's still holding his good hand, and abruptly he finds it pinned to Steve's chest, with Steve's other hand pressed palm flat against Eddie's own chest.
"Breathe," Steve says again. "In and out. In and out."
He times each word with the rise and fall of his chest, and Eddie can feel it expanding and contracting under his fingers. Steve's palm moves every time Eddie manages to pull in a breath or let it out, and slowly, instinctively, his breathing starts to match Steve's.
"You're safe," Steve's switched over to saying. "You're not alone, I'm right here."
"Where'd you learn how to do this?" Eddie asks when he's got his breathing under control again, when he's come back to himself enough to remember that he's not in the Upside Down anymore.
Steve quirks a little smile. "You're not the only one who has nightmares about all of this."
Eddie doesn't ask if Steve means himself, or one of the other members of their party. He kind of assumes that the answer is all of the above.
"You didn't have any at the hospital," Eddie points out.
Steve shrugs - or shrugs as best as he can, when he's got one hand over Eddie's and the other still pressed to Eddie's chest. "Neither did you."
Eddie considers that for a moment, not sure what to say. He didn't - it didn't occur to him to wonder why until now that he's had one. The meds, maybe, or that his fears seemed to come out as he was waking up instead of when he was unconscious.
But mostly, he doesn't say anything because Steve looks like he's considering admitting something, and Eddie remembers that Steve will keep talking if Eddie stays quiet and attentive and doesn't judge him.
"It's better when I have someone with me," Steve says finally. "Or not just someone, I guess, but one of you guys. My nightmares are about - well, they're about a lot of things. But it usually ends up in me not being able to protect someone. It helps having them right there to remind me that it's not real, that they're okay."
And just like that, the thing he felt like he was just missing when he kept seeing people in Steve's hospital bed clicks into place. "Does everyone know?"
Steve makes a face. "Robin and Dustin do. I think Erica and Max have figured it out. Nancy… she knows how it was that first year, I think she might know more now, too."
He remembers Nancy telling Steve he needs to rest, asking it's worse now, isn't it? He takes a closer look, then, seeing the exhaustion in the slope of Steve's shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. "Were you having one tonight, too?"
"Nah." Steve finally pulls his hand away from Eddie's chest, scrubs it over his jaw. "I, uh. Hadn't gone to sleep yet."
Eddie isn't sure exactly what time it is, actually. Late, he guesses, but not tipping into early morning, since the room would be pitch black if it weren't for the soft light of the lamp. He thinks about scolding him, teasing a little that Steve is supposed to let Eddie look after him too.
"Stay in here, then," is what comes out, and Eddie - yeah, okay, guess he's going to have to stand by that.
Steve drops his hand, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "What?"
"You said it helps, right?" Eddie tries to look a lot more careless than he feels. "And obviously we discovered that I do a lot better with someone here when I wake up, too."
With Steve. With Steve here when he wakes up, specifically, but Eddie doesn't want to think about that.
Shit, he's developing a pretty hefty list of things he doesn't want to think too closely about. It's probably going to come back to bite him in the ass, later, but as long as it waits until he's done recovering from his actual bites, he can deal.
Steve's looking at him in a way that seems familiar - almost like how he'd looked at Max, Eddie thinks, when she'd shoved her way into his hospital bed. "Yeah, all right. Just let me go get the walkie. I already talked to Robin and checked in with Henderson, but I promised him I'd keep it close."
He's gone and back before the shadows in the room can grow too uncomfortable, before Eddie starts to feel eyes on the back of his neck, before he's too afraid to look up or look down - but only just.
"So, uh. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asks.
Steve bites his lip, like he knows exactly how he wants to do this but isn't sure he wants to say it, and he sets the walkie on the nightstand before he lets out a soft breath. "Can I have the side closest to the door and the window?"
"Oh." Eddie'd kind of been wondering if Steve might offer to sleep on the floor, or the reasonably comfy looking chair. His brain is scrambled mush right now, and he doesn't know what to do with the fact that Steve immediately jumped into sharing the bed with him.
And putting himself between Eddie and the main points of entry, though that at least he'd kind of expected with what he now knows of Steve.
"Yeah," Eddie agrees hurriedly, because he can see the little scrunch developing between Steve's brows, and he doesn't want him to think that Eddie's uncomfortable with that. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Good. That'd help."
Fuck, what is wrong with him?
It just makes Steve look a little relieved, though, and Eddie scoots over to one side to give Steve room to climb into the bed next to him.
"You want another dose? It's been long enough," Steve offers.
Part of Eddie thinks he should ration them more carefully, despite the fact that Steve already dumped almost all of his pain meds into Eddie's, but - fuck it, he still aches everywhere, and he nods.
"Thanks," he says, accepting the pills and glass of water when Steve hands them over.
Steve doesn't ask if he wants the light on still, which Eddie is kind of grateful for - he's also grateful for the fact that he has to lay on his back to be at all comfortable, and can't be tempted to roll over onto his side to watch Steve.
Steve is right there. He's wearing pajama bottoms and a long sleeved shirt, so there isn't any risk of Eddie seeing the writing on his skin, and - fuck it, Eddie tips his head to the side so he can watch him anyway.
Steve's eyes are closed, head tipped back against the pillow as he lays on his back, too. If he can feel Eddie watching him, he doesn't give any sign of it.
After a long handful of moments of Eddie just looking, memorizing the shape of his nose and the line of his jaw, Steve breathes out.
"Night, Eddie," he murmurs.
"Night, Steve," he whispers, taking that as his cue to turn his head away.
He thinks it's going to take him a long time to fall back asleep again, with the dueling distractions of the lingering effects of his nightmare and the acute awareness of Steve Harrington sleeping right next to him, but - he's out between one breath and the next.
He's shocked awake by something he can't place, but at least it wasn't a nightmare. He doesn't feel terrified, just warm and sleepy and - kind of in pain, ugh, the meds must have worn off. Eddie hopes it's been long enough that he can take more.
There's a static feedback sound coming from a few feet away, and an equally staticky voice saying, "Come in Hawkins crew, over."
Must have been what woke him up.
Eddie's all set to ignore it, but his source of warmth - Steve, his brain supplies, though he's still too groggy to do anything with that thought - is moving away. He grumbles, wiggling as much as he can to scoot closer to him.
"It's Mike," Steve tells him, grabbing the walkie from the nightstand and bringing it closer.
Eddie can hear a chorus of other voices coming from it, louder now that it's right by him.
"Nooooo," he complains, even though Steve's already responding. "Wanna g'back to sleep."
"Jesus, Steve, do you have some girl sleeping with you?" Mike's voice demands from the walkie.
"That didn't sound like a girl, brochacho," another voice says helpfully.
"Yes there's someone with me, no it's not some girl," Steve says, and Eddie can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. "It's-"
"Gross!" Mike shouts, and fuck if that doesn't feel like a douse of ice water all over, shoving Eddie the rest of the way out of sleep.
He sits up, gingerly, feeling a little sick to his stomach.
"You want to take a second to think about what you just said, Michael Wheeler?" Steve's voice is cold with disappointment, somehow managing to make that both a question and a statement.
Eddie resists the urge to look over at him. There's a long pause, where he can't hear anything but the unsteady beat of his own heart, then -
"What? No, not gross because it's a guy, that's - I don't care, that's not - gross because it's Steve!" Mike says, sounding just a little bit frantic - and his voice just a little bit more distant, like he's talking more to someone with him than to the walkie.
He feels a rush of relief, and he lets himself sit for a moment before he risks looking over at Steve. He looks - tired, in the faint light of the morning sun streaming through the blinds, but the pale yellow catches in his sleep rumpled hair, and Eddie has to look away again.
"Walkies are supposed to be for party members only, Steve!" Mike hisses, directly into the walkie this time.
Eddie latches onto the easy distraction that provides, looking back at Steve and making grabby hands for his walkie. Steve raises an eyebrow at him, but he hands it over without protest.
"I did not spend all year welcoming you into Hellfire just to get kicked out now that I'm in the party for real, Wheeler," Eddie says, putting on his best I am your DM and is this really the choice you want to make voice.
"Eddie?" Mike asks after a moment of silence, sounding confused. "What're you-"
He must put together some guy sleeping with Steve and Eddie on the walkie, because the next sound is a shriek that's half static feedback and half Mike Wheeler.
"No!" Mike shouts. "Steve, what the fuck, come on, first my sister and now my DM?"
He sounds so indignant that Eddie can't help it - he cackles, despite the ripples of pain it causes, and he can hear laughter from a few different voices spilling out over the walkie.
"Get out of my life!" Mike demands.
Steve takes the walkie back from him. "Is that any way to talk to your step-DM?"
The smug look on Steve's face only makes Eddie laugh harder, and he smacks at Steve's shoulder. Steve's laughing, too, more like a soft little huff than Eddie's near rib cracking glee, but Steve is smiling so wide his whole face lights up with it, and he's looking at Eddie like he's the best thing he's seen all week, and -
Hell if that doesn't make Eddie feel on cloud nine, like if he can make Steve look like that, he can do anything.
It almost makes him feel like maybe he has a chance. Like maybe, even though he'd resigned himself to having a platonic soulmate the moment he saw I'm not in love with her show up on his skin, he might have something, here. Mike Wheeler clearly thinks he and Steve are fucking, and Steve hadn't hurried to deny it, hadn't pulled away from him - he'd just played into it, and now he's leaning into Eddie's space and giggling with him, and Eddie lets himself hope.
In the background, there's still distant protests coming through the walkie, but someone more adult shaped must have grabbed it from Mike, because someone sounding closer to Eddie's age says, "We're almost to Hawkins, guys. Another hour or so and we can be at Nancy and Mike's."
"Yeah, it's going to be longer than you think," Dustin says. "It's a little bit of a mess out there."
There's a pause, then, "Sorry," someone says, very quietly - a girl, probably around the same age as the freshmen.
The walkie blares with static from a handful of voices trying to reassure her - Eddie can only make out Steve's, since he's there in person.
"Hey," Max says, cutting through it. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead. No sorries."
"No sorries," the girl - who Eddie is guessing is El - echoes, and this time there's a trace of something like a smile in her voice. "Thank you for your message. I need you, too."
"It was Steve's idea," Max says, very clearly deflecting.
El rolls with it, though, very seriously saying, "Thank you, Steve."
Steve's ear turns a frankly adorable shade of pink, and Eddie has to look away before he does something stupid like bite it. "I'm glad it worked, and everyone's okay."
"Party meet up at my house?" Mike says, a little bit of an edge in his voice - like he's worried, like he wants to see for himself that everyone is actually okay.
Eddie hasn't actually seen the kid in action, but he gets the feeling it's similar to the paladin he'd played at Hellfire.
There's a chorus of agreement to meet at the Wheelers' in two hours, then Steve sets the walkie back on the nightstand and slides out of bed, pausing to stretch. It makes his shirt ride up a little bit, and Eddie's feeling just reckless enough to let his eyes linger, greedy for the strip of skin it'll reveal.
He sees mostly gauze, though, and the reality of why he was in bed with Steve Harrington crashes back into him.
"How's your pain?" he asks, instead of saying how're you feeling. There's still wiggle room for Steve to get around it, of course, but at least it won't let him deny he has any at all unless he wants to flat out lie.
Steve makes a face at him. "Exactly how you think it is, man, probably a few steps below yours."
And - all right, fine, well played. Except for the fact that Eddie has no fucking shame about acknowledging that he hurts, that everything hurts, so really, Steve played himself, and Eddie grins at him. "Hurts like a bitch, then? Great, glad we're on the same page, here. I'll be sure to radio Robin and Dustin and tell them to send you home after a few hours so you don't collapse again."
"Almost collapse, Eddie, I almost collapsed."
Eddie's pretty sure the look he gives Steve tells him exactly what he thinks of that distinction, because Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't insist on it.
"You're okay with staying here today, then?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, I know I'm basically on house arrest for a little while, I'm not going to fight it. Besides, I, uh. I'm not sure I could even if I wanted to," he admits. "I know me surviving the first time was as much of a deus ex machina as the Great Eagles carrying Samwise and Frodo out of Mordor, I'm not about to try to test it by over exerting myself now."
Steve's frowning at him, brows doing that cute fucking scrunched thing that he does when he's thinking, and shit, it's too early for this. "Does that make me the great eagle in this metaphor?"
Eddie huffs out a little laugh. "Guess so. Thanks for carrying me out, by the way."
He gets a little shrug in response, Steve's gaze shooting away like he's trying not to show whatever he's feeling about getting thanked for that. "I'll be your deus ex machina any time, Munson."
That's -
Hmm.
Somewhere Eddie's not sure he wants to go right now, when both of them are still all bitten to hell. So he says nothing, looks down at his own hands until he can hear Steve moving again.
"Gonna go make us some breakfast. Yell if you need anything, all right?"
Eddie flashes a thumbs up at him, then begins the careful process of getting out of bed and shuffling over to the bathroom. Moving around doesn't take as much out of him as it did yesterday, but it's slow going. Still, even though it takes far longer than he'd like, he's not winded by the time he takes a piss, splashes water on his face, uses some of the brand new deodorant stashed there - seriously, who keeps toiletries still in their packaging in their guest room? - and makes it back to the bed, so he's feeling pretty pleased with himself.
Steve comes back up just a little bit after with a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of juice, shoving what looks like an entire half of a piece of peanut butter toast in his mouth.
"Didn't save any toast for me?" Eddie teases, reaching out for the plate.
Steve sets the juice down on the nightstand and hands the plate to him, waiting until he swallows his toast before he says, "Soft foods only for now, I read the doctor's instructions."
He thinks about complaining, just because he can, but decides it's not worth the effort and just shoves a forkful of eggs and cheese into his mouth instead.
Steve heads out to go get dressed, returns when Eddie's just about finished, wearing jeans and a blue sweater. There's a few books tucked under one arm, and he shoots Eddie a little smile.
"So you don't get bored," he says as he drops them into Eddie's lap.
Eddie looks down, half expecting to see books on sports facts or something, but - no, it's fantasy. Dark Tower: The Gunslinger, To Ride Pegasus, So You Want to be a Wizard, and even the first Lord of the Rings book stare up at him. Eddie seizes on that last one, holding it up with an affronted look at Steve.
"You acted like you didn't know what Mordor was!" he accuses. "Is this like that thing where you keep saying Dungeons and Dragons wrong even though I know you know what it is?"
Steve smirks at him, and for a moment Eddie thinks he's not going to answer, but then he's shaking his head with a soft laugh. "Nah, that one's Dustin's. He made me borrow it when he found out I've never read it, but it's such a slog to get through."
Eddie gasps, flinging a hand to his chest like he's been mortally wounded, and collapses back against his pillows.
Steve just laughs at him, but that's a good enough response for Eddie, and he grins back.
"Need anything else before I head out?" Steve asks, collecting the empty plate from him.
"Nah," Eddie says. "I'll have plenty to occupy myself seeing what Steve Harrington thinks is a better read than Tolkien."
Steve leaves the walkie talkie with him, promising to radio when he's there and when he's on his way back, and then he's gone. Eddie can hear him tromping down the stairs, the sound of the garage door opening and closing, and if he closes his eyes -
Well.
He doesn't close his eyes for long, because if he does, he lets himself feel like it's almost domestic, like this is them - like Eddie's lazing around with a good book after being delivered breakfast in bed, like waking up to Steve in the morning and listening to him head out is something they do.
The walkie blares to life, and Eddie reaches for it as Dustin's voice calls out to him and Steve.
"Steve just left," Eddie tells him. "Just me for now."
"Switch to channel four?" Dustin says.
Eddie gives an affirmative, switching over. "What do you need, Henderson?"
There's silence for a moment, which immediately gets Eddie's stomach twisting into knots as he thinks oh fuck, what is it, then -
"You guys are doing okay, right?" Dustin asks.
He sounds so small, so unlike the confident, brash kid that Eddie knows, and it gets Eddie right in the soft underbelly that's getting harder and harder to pretend he doesn't have.
"Yeah, we're doing okay. You were right about Steve making breakfast," he adds, because he doesn't really want to expand on what okay means, and he kind of figures telling the kid that he was right about something will get him going off.
Sure enough, Dustin's voice brightens. "See? I told you."
"Yeah, yeah," Eddie says, but there's no heat in it. "Harrington makes a killer breakfast and rips apart demobats with his teeth, who'd have thought."
"He what?" Dustin screeches, and it's then that Eddie remembers Dustin wasn't there for that part, and there probably wasn't time for anyone to catch him up to speed.
"With his teeth," Eddie repeats, throwing a little flare to it. "Then he swung one around by its tail and slammed it against the ground, again and again, and when it still wouldn't give up he pinned it down with his bare foot and tore it in half."
"Holy shit," Dustin breathes out. "And Max thought he was insane before."
Eddie snorts. "Insane is one word for it."
"And you didn't believe me when I said he was a badass," Dustin retorts smugly.
"Forgive me, oh enlightened one, for not being immediately sold on the idea that the coolest of cool kids is secretly a badass monster hunter."
Dustin scoffs. "Steve isn't a cool kid. He's just Steve."
Eddie makes a noise of disbelief, exaggerating it a little because Dustin can't see his raised eyebrow.
"Steve is a dork," Dustin insists. "If you don't believe me, ask him about our secret handshake."
"Secret handshake?" Oh, Eddie can't wait until Steve is back so he can badger him about that one.
"Uh-huh." The kid sounds even more smug now. "We made it Steve's senior year. It's got a lightsaber battle."
Steve's senior year? All right, yeah, okay, he's accepted that Steve's different than how he thought he would be, but - maybe part of him had just kind of slotted that into Steve changing after high school, that he graduated and moved on and didn't care about being popular anymore. Being forced to think about it now means being forced to reconcile the image that Eddie had of him last year, to realize that Steve Harrington had a secret handshake with lightsaber battles at the same time that he was getting crowned prom king.
It forces him to acknowledge that he never knew Steve Harrington at all, that probably everything he assumed about him was wrong. That everything Eddie assumed about his soulmate might have been wrong, that he -
"-the walkie talkie on?" Dustin is saying, and Eddie snaps himself back on track and forces himself to listen. "Just so you can be a part of it, too?"
Oh.
Eddie considers that for a moment, but honestly, the idea of being looped in via walkie talkie while the rest of the party does their thing immediately sends him back into the time he spent in the boathouse with the walkie as his only connection to them.
"I'm probably just going to sleep, man, I'll catch up with everyone when you can all come over here."
"Oh. Are-" Dustin cuts off, and Eddie has a moment of panic before his voice picks back up again. "Steve's here! I'll still keep the walkie with me just in case, okay?"
And then Eddie's alone, really alone, for the first time since they all came to his rescue out at Skull Rock. He thinks he should - feel some kind of way, thinks it should be catching up with him now the way it hadn't caught up with him when he'd had a similar thought last night.
It doesn't.
He doesn't know if he should be grateful for that or worried that it's going to sneak up on him, but he doesn't really want to think too hard on that at the moment.
Instead, he takes another dose of pain meds, gets comfortable with one of the books Steve'd brought for him, and dozes off reading about a teenager who finds a book and discovers a whole new world of magic that'd been right there all along.
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Part 16
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