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#let him and steve go
moonykat · 1 year
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Okay rant time, I'm so sorry for the people who don't follow me for stucky content, but I just have to let it out somewhere I'm so fucking sick and tired of Marvel and Disney playing Bucky's disability for laughs. He's a disabled person, he doesn't have an arm, he is an amputee, and yet they make him lose his arm again and again at every opportunity they can, just for laughs. What the fuck. It is so fucking insulting and hurtful to everyone, to everybody who is a fan of him, who identifies with him, and they just keep doing it . It is so fucking insulting I can't even put it into words, what the fuck like, please just let him be forgotten about for christ's sake.
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lilpomelito · 1 month
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i need a fic or something where steve tells eddie "hey you were a dick in high school too. jumping on tables and screaming at people who just want to eat their lunch about their conformism to the man or whatever was annoying as fuck. also why did lucas have to choose between a sport and your nerd game that's normal. people are multidimensional. I'm not alone in this, who wasn't a total dick at 16. where is your redemption arc mister."
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morganbritton132 · 7 months
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Steve, in the middle of a live-stream, points to a miniature that he’s just noticed on one of the shelves in Eddie’s studio, “Hey, who’s this?”
Eddie, briefly looking away from the stream, “That’s a demogorgon.”
Steve scoffs, “That’s not a demogorgon.”
“Yes, it is,” Eddie says like this is actually a conversation that they’ve had a lot. “Wheeler is just shit at naming things.”
“I think El named it actually.”
“Well, someone should have corrected her!”
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flowercrowngods · 3 months
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 
No. “Thanks.” 
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 
“What about Steve.” 
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 
“He… He’s hurt.” 
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 
People don’t just die. 
They don’t. 
He’s fine. 
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 
He needs a smoke. 
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 
It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 
“Eddie?” 
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 
It’s so fucking surreal. 
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 
And silence reigns. 
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 
Tell me about your favourite person. 
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 
“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 
“Why’d you call me?” 
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 
“What, the ice cream parlour?” 
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 
“He saved your life?” 
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 
“In the fire? Were you there?” 
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 
It is, isn’t it? 
You’re so blue, Stevie. 
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice. 
Yeah. Yeah, he is. 
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
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[To read on Ao3]
It's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. He doesn't understand why everyone won't just stop asking if he wants to talk.
It'll be better for you to get it out of your system, Steve. (Nancy) Talking these things through really helped me, Steve. (Max) You know we're here for you, don't you, Steve? (Dustin) If anyone understands, it's us. Me. You know that, right, Steve? (Robin)
Isn't he allowed to have one damn secret to himself!? Robin did almost get him to crack because out of everyone, Robin would understand his ridiculous, almost overwhelming crush on Eddie Munson.
He's not keeping it a secret because he's embarrassed of his crush, but because he's afraid of rejection for the first time ever. Based on past experience, Steve has always been the one doing the rejecting. In fact, Steve would argue he's never been rejected before. Nancy and he broke up, and breaking up doesn't count as rejection. It's just a change in feelings. And Robin didn't reject him because she had told a half truth when they thought they were gonna die, and then came out to him when he confessed, and rejection also doesn't count if you were never a romantic option to begin with.
Eddie is the first crush he's had (that he's willing to, eventually, act upon) that he's uncertain about. Eddie flirts with him, sure, but he also flirts with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. He doesn't shy away from Steve's touch, but he rarely initiates it himself. Everything Steve tries to test, to gauge Eddie's interest, just falls flat, or doesn't work, or isn't enough to show if Eddie likes him romantically or as a friend.
Anyway, it's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. Annoyed because he knows that waiting for him at his own house is an ambush (an intervention, they'd called it) from his own supposed friends. Steve had just listened to them plan the whole thing over the walkie talkie.
When Steve pulls into his driveway, he's a little impressed at that fact nothing looks off. There are no extra cars, no bikes scattered across the lawn. The house looks dark, even.
When he goes for the door, it's unlocked, though, which is the dead giveaway. Steve sighs heavily before letting himself in. He doesn't bother to flick on the light in the foyer, just shrugging out of the Family Video vest and toeing off his shoes, leaving both in a pile by the door before squinting into the house.
It is dark, but he can make out irregular shapes, lightly illuminated by the light from the backyard coming through the large windows on the far wall. It looks like they've rearranged his furniture. He also hears the slight creak of the floorboards, from the kitchen. That would be Lucas, who Steve knows has been tasked with sneaking around and making sure Steve can't just bolt back out the front door (like he's ever actually run away from a confrontation).
They were very thorough with the planning. Steve knows where a majority of people are lurking, cutting him off from 'fleeing'. Lucas in the kitchen, to cut him off from the front door. El at the top of the stairs so he can't hide in his room. Argyle stationed in the hall that leads to the garage. Everyone else scatted throughout the living and dining room.
Might as well get this over with.
Steve makes it about halfway to the living room before a single floor lamp lights up. It illuminates Robin, who has turned his father's favorite chair around to face the front door instead of the TV, arm still up from where she'd twisted the nob on the lamp. "Steve. We need to talk."
"Buckley," Steve answers, calm as he can manage, surveying the room. Everyone else is just out of the line of light from this ancient lamp. He wonders how they managed that. Still. He knows they're here, so with as much confidence as he can muster, he looked directly at an out of place shadow and hopes he's right as he says, "you want to talk, too, I suppose?"
"How-" it's Dustin's voice that starts to speak and is quickly cut off with a smacking sound. Steve's willing to bet it's Max or Erica who slaps a hand over Dustin's mouth to keep him quit.
"Okay, so Dustin's here, too," Robin says, trying to regain control of the ambush but Steve's not having it.
He puts his hands on his hips and says in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the quiet house, "And Lucas, sneaking though the kitchen to the door. Argyle in the hallway, El upstairs. The rest of you are here, too. I heard the whole thing on the walkie."
"What! You were supposed to be at work!" Dustin yelps as almost every light flicks on at once. Each light switch has a person stationed at it. Steve can now see Jonathan and Nancy to his right, Dustin, Max, and Mike also to the right, but further into the living room. To the left, Argyle has made his was from the hallway, and Eddie (Jesus fuck, only this group of assholes bring his crush to the intervention about refusing to talk about his crush! (not that they know about the crush)), Erica and Will mirror the position of the others, almost against the wall to stay out of the light from the windows. He hears the stairs creak as El makes her way down.
"I was. It was slow. I got the walkie from my trunk to ask someone to save me from boredom just in time to hear your scheming," says Steve.
"We aren't scheming, Steve," Robin says, standing from the chair now and stepping closer. "We're worried. You don't talk to us."
"I talk to, like, almost all of you every day!"
"Not about important things!"
"I happen to think that discussing the newest releases is important. Tells me a lot about all of your guys' terrible taste in movies."
"Steve!" Nancy steps in now, "this is serious."
"It's really not. You are all making a big deal about this and it's not!" Steve says.
"Why are you keeping this from us?" Max pipes up, "if you can't talk to us about this, then who can you? We understand."
"Look, I know we've all experienced this.... issue, at some point, but that's doesn't mean I want to talk to any of you about it-"
"Issue he says! You can't even say it," Robin challenges him, matching his hands on hip stance, mirroring him.
Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. This is getting ridiculous. Of course, he can't say it! He's barely gotten through his sexuality crisis and hasn't even come out to Robin yet! He wants to, really, but... "Listen. I appreciate that you are all so invested in this, but you need- sorry, no. I need you to let me do this at my own pace."
"It's been since '83! How much longer do you need!?" Dustin is looking at him like he's grown a second head and that-
What. Wait. What? Steve's brain screeched to a halt. "What."
"What what?" Dustin raises his hands, confused. "You need to talk to someone about what we all went though. The Upside Down! We all talk to you, but you don't talk to any of us and bottling it up isn't healthy."
Steve's arms go limp at his sides and all he can do is blink. They aren't- they don't think- Steve's brain hasn't restarted yet, which is what he blames for what leaves his mouth next. "Wait. This isn't about my crush on Eddie?"
A clatter and the sound of glass breaking, accompanied by Eddie's voice cursing follows that. Steve looked over to see that Eddie seems to have fallen back against the wall he was near, knocking a picture from the wall in the process. He's staring at Steve, though, eyes owlish and he looks like he's about to either faint or run away.
Steve's gut twists because neither of those were the reaction he'd hoped for (but they are the reactions he most expected).
"Your WHAT," Robin screeches and that brings Steve back to his brain.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
He just. He just came out to everyone, all at once, in his living room. This is fine, this is fine. He can deal with this. The room and everyone (oh God, everyone) in it fades away as Steve puts one palm flat on his own chest, focuses on feeling his own touch, on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to remember how he draws breath usually. Normally he can pull himself back this way but it's so much, too much, everyone is watching him-
"Steve. Hand," El's voice is distant but he obeys, hand going out on instinct. El takes it and he feels someone else breathing deep. "Follow. In. In. In. In. Hold. Out. Out. Out. Out. Again. In-" El repeats and repeats, counting each second with a word, and slowly she comes into view, her hand held over his on Lucas' chest. El talks him through it as Lucas demonstrates because it's hard to give instruction and breathe at the same time. This is not the first time El's helped him through a panic attack, but it's usually Hopper who has to demonstrate the breathing for him.
She stops when he calms, allows him to pull his hand away from Lucas but not her own hand. She brings her other to clasp around his, holding his one hand with both of hers.
"Thank you," he whispers.
She gives him a nod, face still serious as she stands next to him.
Steve takes in his surroundings. His panic attack wasn't too long, thankfully, but enough that everyone has moved. He seeks out Eddie subconsciously and finds he's relieved to see that he's taken a seat on the couch, Will next to him all but tucked into his side. No one left, and Steve's glad for that, but they all look so uncertain and off kilter now, scattered across the living room. Robin is a few steps closer than she was before and looks like she wants to finish stepping forward, but not sure if she should.
"Um, thank you guys, for not freaking out while I was freaking out," Steve says, reaching out his other hand to Robin. She takes it and he pulls her into a half hug. "So, uhh, I thought I knew what this was about but guess I didn't."
"Of all the things to think we'd stage an intervention for, having a crush on Ed-someone is certainly not that high on our priority list," Robin snorts from where she's buried her head in his shoulder.
"Well, it makes sense now that it's not about- Maria said I should have talked to you guys sooner, like individually, but too late I guess."
"Who the fuck is Maria!?"
"Language, Henderson," Steve snaps on instinct. "She's my therapist."
For the second time tonight, Robin says, "your WHAT?"
"Therapist?" Steve repeats, but it sounds like a question even to himself because he's almost afraid there's a wrong answer here.
"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist, Steve," Nancy says, voice gentle in a way Nancy's voice really isn't usually. "Do you talk about- I don't know how to phrase this without prying."
Steve rescues her from the awkwardness of having to ask. "She knows about the Upside Down. Dr Owens introduced her after Starcourt. Why are you surprised by this?"
"Because we didn't know," says Dustin.
"I see Maria every Tuesday. How did you not know?" Steve asks.
"What do you mean how did we not know!?" Dustin shouts.
"Can you not shout at me?" Steve sighs. He needs to sit down, so he does. Just drops there, dragging Robin and El with him. Neither complains, though. "I've been going to therapy every Tuesday since '83. I guess it just became part of my schedule, so I don't think about it. And I did, like, actively hide I was seeing a therapist that first year so guess that was habit."
"Is this why you don't talk to us?" Robin's voice is quiet.
"Well, yeah. I didn't realize it was affecting you all so much that I didn't. I thought- I am talking about it. I told Maria about a nightmare I had just last week, I'm not bottling it all up," Steve reassures, "You all talk to me. I didn't wanna create some like, trauma loop where we just talk about how awful it was back and forth and never get, like, closure with it, so I didn't share back. I've just been trying to do for you guys what Maria does for me, but I'm not, like, qualified."
"We could all use some therapy," Nancy says in what seems to be a rather agreeable voice for the tone of the room currently, "but why were you the only one offered help after Starcourt?"
"Oh. Well. It was less Dr Owens offering Maria's service, and more my mom barely refraining from murdering Owens on the spot until he gave into every demand she had. Which, being fair to Owens, he was more than willing to help to begin with."
"Your mom spoke to Owens?" Jonathan speaks for the first time.
"Oh. Wow," Steve blinks, feeling a bit thrown. There's so much he's unintentionally hid from his friends, things that could have been helping them (like them talking to Maria instead of him, have any of them even been offered therapy?) but he's also realizing that they've made an awful lot of assumptions about him without talking to him. "So, wait, I need to know something. How did this come to happen?" He half-heartedly waves towards everything around him with the arm he has half wrapped around Robin.
"The intervention?" Max asks.
"Sorta? No. I get why you thought you needed to intervene, but I don't understand why you came to that conclusion without like, asking me things? All of you were like talk to us Steve we can help Steve we understand Steve but how did it not occure to any of you that I might already be talking to someone?"
It seems the only one brave enough to answer is the person who has known Steve the least, because Argyle says, "far as they could tell, who would you talk to that's not them, bro? Like, you come home to a big empty house. On bad days, Nancy can still cuddle up to her mom and just be held even though Mrs. Wheeler doesn't know what's up, but you're like, alone."
"I-what? What's the implication there?"
"Steve, we can count on one hand the number of times you've ever spoken about your parents," Nancy says, "I guess we all came to the conclusion that you were... you felt like you had to be alone in dealing with the trauma, like you're alone in this house. I mean, we dated for a year and a half, and I never even met your parents."
That's true, but it's because his parents were going through a rough patch and trying to work through his dad's... problem while also working on a big deal for the company. Steve's not going to pretend he knows how his dad's business works but it involves a lot of meetings in cities bigger than Hawkins. "You all mock me for being a rich kid, and then act... what, surprised that my parents actually have to run the company they own?"
"No. The only things you've ever told me about your parents was that your dad was an asshole and that you didn't want them to find out about beer at a party you threw!"
Well. That does paint his dad in a real bad light. "Well, I was younger and stupider when I said those things!"
"When the Russians drugged you, you made a comment. Something about only doing marijuana, dad," Robin says softly from his side. "it's kinda easy to draw the conclusion that your relationship with your parents might be negative at worst, absent at best."
Steve retracts his arm from around Robin, suddenly cold on the inside. He gently shakes off El as well and shoves off the ground so he's standing again, taking three steps back to be able to see everyone at a quick glance around. "I think it's best if we stop this here. I can't- I'm gonna say some shit I'll regret otherwise."
"Steve-"
"Robin," Steve cuts her off, feeling the need to defend his parents, who he loves so fucking much, from his friends. Anger rolls tight under his skin but he doesn't want to give in, so he goes cold instead. "I call my mom every night. They have a mobile phone my dad pays way too much for, so they can know I'm still alive no matter where they have to be currently. My parents are absent," he spits the word like venom, "because I begged them to leave after Starcourt and the only reason they didn't drag me out of here with them kicking and screaming is because I was 18 and legally, they couldn't! That's the only real fight I've ever had with my mom, you know. I told them they had to go because Hawkins is fucking cursed and I couldn't protect all of you and them and-" Steve clamps his mouth shut, swallows down the words. He's going to have to talk to Maria about his hero complex again (he thought he was getting better). No one says a thing in the silence, even though they all look like they want to. Steve takes a deep breath, trying to calm. "I'm going to go call my parents, because they're gonna start to worry, because they do that, if I don't call soon. Let yourselves out like you let yourselves in."
He doesn't quite stomp his way to the kitchen phone, but it's a close call. He could go up to the master bedroom and call privately but a part of him wants them to hear this conversation as they leave. He yanks the phone off the receiver a bit harder then needed and punches in the phone number he's got memorized now. It rings twice.
"Oh Steve, I was just starting to worry!"
"Hi mom. No need to worry. I'm, well, I'm not fine right now, but it's not any Upside Down nonsense."
"Oh, honey, do you want to talk about it?"
"No, not, uh, not right now. I just wanted to hear your voice. To tell you I love you, and I miss you. Dad, too," as Steve speaks he hears the sounds of movement, of shuffling down the hallway and the front door. Resolutely, he keeps his back to the kitchen entrance.
"We love and miss you, too."
"When will you guys be able to come visit?"
"Honey, do you need us? We can be on a plane in a few hours."
Steve smiles at that, and hopes she can hear it in his voice, "no. But, uhh, I wouldn't mind seeing you guys sometime soon."
"We'll make it happen. Hey, how about we have that barbeque you mentioned before. We'd like to be able to meet the people keeping you safe. I do wish the Byers still lived in town, I'd love to catch up with Joyce".
"Oh! I can't believe I didn't tell you! The Byer's are moving back. Oh God! Mom! Hopper's not dead!"
There's a fumbling noise, like perhaps his mom dropped the phone. Some staticky noise, shuffling sounds, and his father's voices comes through the phone, "Steve, your mother looks pretty pale, kiddo. What did you just tell her?"
"Jim Hopper's alive and kicking. The Starcourt Russians kidnapped him apparently."
A deep sigh and then his dad says, "We'll be home in two days, okay kiddo? Gonna want a full explanation of that, but I've got to go, your mom's going to faint -sit down, Stephanie- We love you."
"Love you, too."
Steve hangs up and turns around to see El, Will, and Eddie still lingering by the kitchen entrance. He's not as angry on the inside anymore, and it helps that these three didn't really pipe in and call his parents terrible people who don't love him. (okay, so he's putting words into everyone's mouths, Maria will frown at him hard when he talks about this, but he's going to allow himself to be a little petty right now).
"I am sorry for being part of this," El says, "I do not want you mad at me."
"Never, El," Steve strides forwards, easily pulling El into a hug. She's probably just worried for him because everyone else was worried, and not because she has some idea about what his parents are like. Honestly, El's probably never even thought out Steve's parents even once. "I'm not really mad at anyone. Just... frustrated, and upset, perhaps. We'll all make amends tomorrow, I'm sure."
El releases him after a moment and before she's even fully out of his arms, Will is pulling him into a hug just as deep. Steve's not sure why, he and Will aren't particularly close, but Will clings to him and makes this soft, sob noise as he presses his face into Steve's shoulder, and Steve's wrapping his arms around him on instinct, "Oh, hey baby Byers, it's all good."
Will shakes his head no and just sobs for a moment. Steve lets him, rubs his back after a moment, trying to be soothing. It's a long hug but not awkward. Finally Will pulls back, swiping at his eye with both his hands. "I- thank you, Steve."
Steve is bewildered by that, and it must show on his face, because he hears Eddie try and hide a laugh behind a cough. Steve says, "you're welcome?"
Will doesn't clarify. He just steps back and El takes his hand easily, and the siblings leave, presumably to climb into the back of someone's waiting car.
Which leaves him alone in his house with Eddie.
Eddie, who knows about his crush now because Steve blurted it out loud for everyone to hear.
"I'll leave if you want me to," Eddie says, like he can read Steve's mind, even as he leans against the counter next to him like he plans to stay, "but I- I don't wanna start throwing everyone else under the bus, but I really just thought this was a case of Hero Complex where you think you're only good for getting between us and danger and that we were all gonna try and like, show you how important you are to us all so you'd open up to us. I didn't even think about, like, your parents."
Steve believes that, so he huffs a dry laugh, "yeah. I'm sure you're idea of my parents are snotty rich people who look down on everyone."
Eddie's got the decency to be embarrassed about that truth, if his red face is anything to go on. "Sure, but like, I thought the same thing about you and that turned out to be wrong, so I can admit that. Also, I thought you were an asshole who always got what they wanted, and that's not really a bad parent trait, y'know? Caring about what your kid wants."
"Well, thanks for admitting to it, man."
Eddie nods, then looks away, towards the door. "Do you- should I leave? Do you even want me hear?"
Did he? "Yeah, I want you here. I kinda want Robin, too. I shouldn't have kicked everyone out like that."
"No dude, that was fair. But, uh, I can go chase down Nancy's car and see if Robin will return with me."
Steve does laugh, then, "no. We're so codependent as it is. I just... Robin's been here when I've called my mom. She's here all the time. I don't understand how she just... never picked up on it."
"You always call from the kitchen phone, or do you make it a private conversation? 'Cause Buckley and you are stupidly codependent, but if something's meant to be private, I doubt she's going to be eavesdropping on you."
That's true. And Steve knows he's being irrational. He never said anything, he knows he never even talks about his parents, that they're so rarely even in Hawkins these days, it isn't a farfetched idea to assume it's because he doesn't love them, or they don't' love him. That doesn't stop the hurt he feels for his parents. And a little for himself because, yeah, he never said anything, but also, they never asked.
They see their parents every day, have left their parents in the dark about the truth for reasons Steve doesn't agree with, but he'll never argue that choice with them, never assume they have a bad relationships with their parents for it.
"I had to tell my parents," Steve says, because he and Eddie are just standing in his kitchen in silence and he's thinking these things anyway. Might as well think out loud, "when Billy punched me unconscious and I woke up in my own damn car being driven by Max I just- what if I hadn't made it home to them? What if Billy had hit me one too many times, had beaten me to death? My mom was pacing the living room with worry when I did finally get home. They were supposed to already be on a plane to I don't even know where, but she was so worried about me that she stayed. She didn't even know about the Upside Down. Didn't know how close she'd come to losing me."
Eddie doesn't say anything, but he moves closer, to lean against the kitchen island, across from Steve.
"She was so fucking terrified when she saw me. Wanted to know who did it, what happened, where I'd been- she's never had to patch up anyone after getting a beating, so she tried to usher me back outside, to the car, a hospital I guess, but the thought of leaving the house was so overwhelming. After everything that just happened? I wanted to be home.
"I think she caught on to that. Instead, she pulled me into the bathroom and did her best to clean me up. I tried my hardest to hold it together but she- my mom just took my face in her hands, so gently, afraid to hurt me more," Steve mimics the motion, holding his hands out in front of him like he's cupping a face, "and just said you can tell me what happened, honey. No matter what it is. I love you so much. and I just- I broke down." Steve stops, sucking in a deep breath because just the memory of that night brings back the emotions. His mother's fear for his life. Her love for him.
"I told her everything. Just started talking and couldn't stop. And when I was done, a crying mess on the bathroom floor, she just... just sunk down beside me and held me as I cried. And the craziest part of all, she believed me. The next morning, when I thought for sure she was going to ask what kinda drugs I took to come up with that story, instead, she asked me if she could call Hopper. Wanted to talk to another adult about it," Steve swipes at his eyes, getting misty at the memories before continuing, "the only reason they aren't here right now is because I basically begged them to leave. To go grow their company, I'd said. I'd be here, and I promised to call every night, so they know I'm safe."
"Is that why you've never redecorated?" Eddie asks, out of left field, "'cause having their things around reminds you of them?"
Steve shrugs because he's not sure. "They told me I could change whatever. Make this house your own home, Steve my dad had said but, it's always felt like home, y'know?"
Eddie nods. "Not even a little tempted to change the wallpaper in your room? 'Cause it's pretty fuckin' atrocious man."
That makes Steve bark out a laugh, "ok, yeah, that's just me being lazy."
"Well, if you ever want help removing that wallpaper, count me in. The sooner, the better. How you can stand to look at it, and with those matching curtains, yikes," Eddie is grinning at him and Steve sees what he's doing. Distracting him from the heavy topic. Steve appreciates it. "I won't be caught dead in there until you change it."
"Oh? Hoping to be in my room sometime soon, Eddie?" Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Well, I did kinda just learn that my crush has a crush on me, so maybe I was hoping," Eddie gives a shrug, aiming to sound indifferent and aloof, Steve thinks, but he can see the grin Eddie's trying to fight from forming on his face, and the way his hand has gone to his hair, pulling some strands to hide that grin behind.
Something sweet and happy spreads through Steve's entire body. Steve opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure, but what comes out instead is a big yawn.
"Alright, bedtime for you I think," Eddie says.
Steve nods, because he is tired. The rollercoaster of emotions and events have worn him down. "You wanna stay over and watch terrible movies until we fall asleep?"
Eddie looks delighted to have been asked.
Today was a shitshow, and Steve knows he'll need to reach out to everyone and talk. Individually, because he's not sure he can handle everyone all at once again. But he needs them to know he was just angry and doesn't hate them all or something.
Tomorrow's got promise, though, so that's good enough.
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imthursdaysyme · 2 months
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While I love Steve having a kid that's a nerd, my favorite is if his kid is just like him. He's popular even at 7, he's extroverted, funny, and charming albeit a little strange. He loves sports and struggles in math and doesn't really get english and gets scolded when he laughs in history—sue him he thought it was funny—and has a tendency to get detention but also is somehow a teachers pet all at once.
He has a tendency for feminine things, makes it his own with earrings and the occasional pink flower print shirt.
He begs steve to not work on the car until he gets home from school, cause even at 5, he would rather climb over the fence and run home by himself then learn his dad worked on the cool car without him.
He loves driving and cooking and dancing and loves swimming—aunt Robbie calls him a variety of aquatic animals instead of his name; minnow, fish, stingray, tigershark. Anything went.
They look alike and act alike to the point robin laughs and claims Steve just cloned himself, Eddie says that the kid is actually just Steve brought to the future through time travel. Steve laughs, he loves it ofc but he's never pushed or forced it, it just happened that way.
But there's also times, where Steve sees his son, so like him with big tears in his eyes trying to be tough. Or when all he wants is to sleep in the bed with Steve when he has a nightmare, wants his dad to kiss everything better, when he so easily seeks affection or struggles with school to the point he's getting stress migraines at 9, sees him try so hard to do his best and do what he does well. Sees him fail.
And when Steve sees this, he wonders if maybe he wasn't a bad kid. Didn't need to be tougher, manlier, smarter—better—to deserve love.
Just. Like. Steve seeing that he didn't need to be anything other than what he was. That he has no idea how his parents didn't love him bc how could he ever not love his kid? Just like its okay for him to be how he is and have a kid that a like him as well bc he's pretty great
And like. Its just that idea that Steve could only “heal his inner child” with a kid that's different then him or a girl is kind of sad that it's only that what if him and his son go to every game and constantly have grease on them what then.
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#dad steve harrington#i just think it would be so nice#I am going to draw this kid I hope y'all know#his name is going to be Jimeno#bc Steves Cuban and wants to give his son a Cuban name too#his nickname will be meno and that's why robin thought calling him minnow was hilarious#he is now part of my st universe#I have three main ones#the steddie one the stali one and now this one#single dad Steve#I also have a very set past stancy universe that I don't delve into where they're divorced and have a kid and Nancys with robin#that one is fun and I will draw it someday#but anyway#let Steve have a kid that's like him bc why tf can he only have a kid that's different#like what's so wrong about Steve#why can't his kid like all the typical jock stuff#and be sensitive and shit#and Steves like oh my god I wasn't a horrible kid who could never do anything right my parents were assholrs#and Steves like I will give my kid ANYTHING he desires and what are YOU gonna do about it#him and robin living together practically coparenting#jimeno starts calling robin roberto bc Steve does#and imagine robin HAS to learn Spanish fluently bc Steve only speaks Spanish in the house#jimenos first language will be spanish if Steve has anything to say about it#robin learns so fast#but imagine Nancy having a hard time learning it and like every ones so co fused bc Steve and jimeno will talk to her in Spanish and she'll#talk back in English and every ones confused but they understand each other so it's fine
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wroteclassicaly · 7 months
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When you’re on the cusp of sleep and Eddie says, “Let’s get these panties off.”
You’re mewling a little, nodding sleepily, eyes closed, face pressed into the blue laundered fabric of Steve’s pillow. Steve Harrington, your shared boyfriend & partner, currently to your right, helping Eddie by taking the left side of your panties above defined digits and pulling. Once at your ankles, you help them slide off, immediately allowing your legs to fall open, wetness clicking as your folds separate noisily, messily.
“Jesus H. Christ, what a whore,” Eddie mumbles, already undoing his belt to relieve some friction.
“Explains why she slept topless for us to get home and find her, huh, Munson?” Steve responds, amused, eyes glazed over and sparkling beneath the reflective moonlight of the room, also lit up by streetlights.
You’d kept the window open to let in one of the last cool night’s summer breezes, eagerly approaching fall temperatures. The sweat of all day work lingers on your boyfriend’s, combined with outside, and that little bit remaining of a candle you’d lit for your night time bath. A present they’d gotten you at a vintage thrift shop, cedarwood, apple, and a little blended maple.
As they take their places beside you, eager to indulge in your body, you thank everything in this universe that they’re yours.
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artiststarme · 7 months
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Steve and Robin lose their job at Family Video in the wake of that fateful Spring Break but not for the reasons one might think. It wasn’t because they closed early on one of their busiest days to track down the town’s infamous ‘murderer’. It wasn’t because they skipped their shifts for four days in a row. It wasn’t even because they told Keith to his face that ‘they would rather die in the earthquake and fall into hell than work another boring shift’.
No, they lost their jobs because of a grudge they kept. Both Steve and Robin refused to sell any tapes to anyone they thought may have been involved with Eddie’s manhunt, unfair people’s trial, or the continued harassment after he was proclaimed innocent. Justifiably, they had their reasons.
“Oh no Andy, we can’t let you rent this one. You’ve already lost enough brain cells being brainwashed by Jason. Maybe watch the news or something.”
“Mrs. Wheeler? You absolutely may not rent anything. Maybe go call the police again since that’s what you like doing.”
“Oh ho ho, Officer Callahan! Funny to see you here, you know, not hunting down children. Get out of here. Come back when you have a warrant, asshole.”
So yes, they lost their jobs but not their dignity. Inevitably, when they went back to the Munson’s new trailer or to Steve’s empty house, they had what really mattered. They could watch the movies off of tapes they stole, Steve could cuddle in Eddie’s scarred arms, and Robin could rant about how many films would be better with lesbians in them. As it should be.
(They lose a series of jobs after Family Video as well. Robin and Steve get fired from the diner, the library, and Melvald’s all for refusing business to the asshats that made Eddie’s life hell. Because in their eyes, the whole town could suck it.)
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jeysuso · 1 year
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#you pretty bitch
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delta-piscium · 1 year
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When Steve and Eddie start dating Wayne pulls Steve aside and is like “I know this sounds odd but you’re gonna have to take him on walks every once in a while.”
And Steve is just like “?? Sir? He is not a dog?”
Wayne gives him a slightly haunted look, muttering “sometimes I wonder,” under his breath before clearing his throat and telling Steve to just trust him on this one. 
Steve thinks this is probably something Wayne had to do when Eddie was a child to get him out of the house but the man is a full-grown adult now, Steve is not gonna walk him.
He kind of forgets about it until one day. Eddie’s been staying at Steve’s for the week and he gets home from work only to find the kitchen absolutely wrecked. He finds Eddie in another room standing in a pile of books. He very slowly approaches him, putting his hands out and making his voice soft and as carefully as he can being like, “Hey, babe, what’s up?”
Eddie whips around, eyes big and wild, rambling almost too fast for Steve to understand. “I needed to make a cake but I didn’t have a recipe so I improvised and that did not work so I went to find a recipe and did you know there are like fifty-year-old medical books here? There are so many descriptions of gross stuff in them.” He waves one of Steve’s granddads old books around and Steve has to lean back to not get smacked by it. 
“Yeah… my granddad was a doctor,” he says all while eyeing him warily. 
His hair is frizzier than usual and he’s about to turn around to grab more books and Steve does not know what this is or what to do? Should he do something? That’s when he remembers what Wayne said about walks and the way he had looked, a bit stressed and disbelieving. It’s about how Steve is feeling right now so he might as well try, right?
So he grabs Eddie, pulling him along towards the door, making up the first excuse he can think of. “Speaking of my granddad, he built a tree-house for me in the woods behind the house, let’s go look.” 
He walks into the woods at the wrong opening, leading them kind of far in before turning around to wander and pretending to look. He finally steers them back to where the tree-house actually is, all in its tiny rotten glory, and right at the edge of the lawn.
“Guess it was closer than I remember,” he says with a shrug as if dragging Eddie around for twenty minutes insisting it was further in is in any way a believable mistake. 
Eddie gives him a look like he’s acting insane, which, okay fair but Eddie did start it. And anyways he looks better now, judgmental as all hell but better.
“Cool,” He eventually says then stomps back inside. 
Eddie spends the rest of the day making fun of Steve for getting lost in the woods where he grew up but he’s not climbing the walls anymore so Steve counts it as a win.
After that he brings Eddie on regular walks, tells him it’s because he doesn’t do sports anymore and needs to move, doesn’t always feel like running and it’s boring going alone. Eddie accepts it easily but also says it’s so weird because Wayne will also drag him along on walks, and, like, what about him attracts these people who need to go on walks all the time and can’t do it alone?
Steve and Wayne have a pact to never tell Eddie, they do not even want to imagine how that would go because Eddie is a drama queen at heart and their system is working (until years later when Steve and Eddie live together hours away and Steve goes on a trip with Robin, he comes back to Eddie on his way to turn their living room into a greenhouse)
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seths-rogens · 1 year
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if joe keery doesn’t get to sob and cry and scream and break down in s5 then what’s the point
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cuoredimuschio · 11 months
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okay, but where's my steddie AU where steve wants to learn to play guitar to impress a girl he's infatuated with and he remembers that munson kid was always hanging up posters for his weird band at school, so he hikes out to eddie's usual dealing spot behind the track and asks (with far less groveling than he really should have) if eddie will teach him how to play, and obviously eddie says no because why would he want to help king steve, but of course, steve offers to pay him, $20 a week, and well, that's the kind of get-the-hell-out-of-this-shithole-town cash eddie really can't afford to refuse, so fine, he'll teach steve to play and they'll spend inordinate amounts of time together tucked away in eddie's room and they'll start to see that they have more in common than they thought and that they kind of had each other all wrong, and eddie will put his hand over steve's to help him get the placement for a tricky chord and it totally won't awaken anything in either of them?? where is it??
edit: i started writing it
#steve x eddie#steddie#stranger things#someone tell me this has already been written because i need it. please.#bonus points if steve shows up to the first practice session empty-handed#and eddie nearly calls the whole thing off when he has the Audacity to grab at eddie's sweetheart as if eddie'd ever let him play her#and he doesn't even teach steve anything that day because rule number one get your own fucking guitar and keep your mitts off mine#but by the end when eddie is deep deep deep in love and it's time to send steve off to woo this lucky girl of his#he offers to let steve take his sweetheart because she's guaranteed to make him look ten times hotter and cooler#and he'll have no trouble sweeping his girl off her feet and maybe eddie's breaking his own heart but it's fine—as long as steve's happy#except steve doesn't seem nearly as happy as eddie thought he would be#he seems sad actually and eddie kind of hates that so he starts to make some lame joke about how steve should be honored#because eddie wouldn't lend his baby out to just anyone and that gets steve to crack half a smile#but then he puts the guitar down on eddie's bed (with all due gentle reverence) walks over takes eddie's face in his hands and kisses him#kisses him like he's been dying to do it for weeks. because he has#because somewhere along the line it stopped being about wanting to impress a girl and started being about wanting to be with eddie#it started being screwing up on purpose so that eddie would grab his hands and show him how it's supposed to be done#and forgetting about lessons entirely and just sitting around and listening to eddie talk or just watching him play#because somewhere along the line steve fell out of infatuation and into love with the last person he ever expected....#anyway idk where i'm going with this
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morganbritton132 · 9 months
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Eddie’s trying to live-stream when Robin is randomly like, “Remember when we interviewed for that job together and you-
Steve: Scoops?
Robin: We didn’t interview for Scoops together. We didn’t even talk to each other before working there. It was when you-
Steve: Was it the bowling alley?
Robin: No.
Steve: Family Video? Melvald’s? Oh, was it-
Eddie: How many jobs did you interview together for?
Robin: It was when we were office temps
Steve: Oh! That place was the worst.
Robin: Obviously, but anyways. Remember when they asked what your strengths were and you told the interviewer how much you could bench press?
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teruel-a-witch · 1 year
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Today in Just Normal Bro Things™: Steve tenderly touching Danny's cheek/cradling his face in his giant palm before he gives him some privacy that Danny didn't even ask for, because he can't stand to watch Danny talk to his new gf (the one he had just encouraged Danny to go steady with, because he loves suffering and he wants Danny to be happy even if he's not the reason for Danny's happiness, he is literally stepping aside), he just can't resist giving himself one last outlet for his affection before he 'passes the baton' to Amberlissa, so to speak.
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findafight · 1 year
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Kinda want to write a one-sided ronance post S4 au (within a fix it obvs) where the older teens start actually hanging out and Stobin (eventually + Vickie)confuse literally everyone. They greet each other with cheek kisses, call each other babe (or "Stevie Baby". Listen. Robin calls him bud or buddy or bub or bubba or babe and it's like why so many B's?? Argyle is vibing with it though and joins the bud train) and one time at two in the morning had a coordinated ramble about the names of the cats they will eventually get. (Sassafras, moonshine, and Garborator)
Nancy and Steve haven't really talked about anything, other than Steve saying "hey. I'm sorry if whatever I said weirded you out. I was definitely a bit delirious and Robin and Eddie AND Dustin were all making comments about winning you back or whatever which is stupid, you made it clear where you stood with me. Which wasn't with me. That's fine. and like. Okay yeah when we were together I'd daydream about you being beside me in the motorhome but thats-- it was a daydream. I was sort of thinking I was gonna die and. I wanted to share a little dream that made me happy. And then got everything confused in my head and made it weird and I'm sorry. what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for being weird and making things uncomfortable. I'm over you. I loved you then, and you were my first real love, and maybe if things were different I could love you like that again but. But neither of us want that or the same things out of life. And we'd crash and burn again. Plus you and Jonathan are together which is a non-starter. Cannot believe I forgot that when it was happening. Jesus. So. Yeah. Sorry for being not a great friend and hitting on you in the Upside Down." And Nancy had nodded and told him not to worry about it. He had been sort of bleeding out and planning on going back into the upside down. They could both be normal about it.
Sometimes Nancy and Robin try to have "girl time" at Nancy's suggestion because they're the only girls in the older group (sometimes. But Robin is not going to let that slip out) but it's awkward without a buffer. Robin is too nervous and rambles and Nancy is too annoyed by it. But they do get on well in group settings, and Steve and Argyle are actually the keenest to smooth over any awkwardness.
Robin laughs more with the group, and grins at Steve and smirks at Eddie and has a sharp tongue Nancy can admire. She's more comfortable with Steve around, insisting he sit beside her or on the ground in front of her so she can play with his hair. (And Nancy is shocked the first time she sees it, because Steve was notoriously protective of his "best feature", but she'd asked and he'd hummed quietly as she takes her fingers through his hair and put tiny, lopsided braids in it.) It's nice to see Robin less jumpy, and wonders what it would take to see more of the side of her Nancy only sees when Steve's around. She just wants to get closer to Robin. Wants a friend.
And somehow, beyond Nancy's notice, Steve and Robin's friend Vickie slowly joins the group. She wasn't involved at all in the spring, but has been hanging around Family Video and a movie night or two often enough that when she settles more permanently in the group it isn't a very big surprise. Eddie and Argyle welcome her in with open arms, Jonathan is only his normal amount of weary of new people, and obviously Robin and Steve are excited for their friends to be friends.
But it just doesn't sit right with Nancy. She can't pinpoint why, it just doesn't. When she sees Robin and Vickie giggling together, or having some back and forth banter that seems to feed into both of them smiling, or Steve throwing his arm over her shoulder, or Vickie leaning into Robin's space as they talk. She always sits beside Robin, Steve on the other, with Eddie beside him. It's usually a tight fit for whatever couch they're on, but the four seem happy as clams to not have any personal space. Once Argyle decided to lay across all their laps, and they just...let him. Finangled themselves so everyone was mostly comfortable.
Nancy figures she is uncomfortable with it because she hasn't ever had a close friend since Barb, and was possibly hoping she could be close to Robin along those lines. So seeing her so close with the others and mildly uncomfortable around her hurt, and seeing her and Steve incorporate someone unversed in the Upside Down into their little trauma club also hurt. Because what did Vickie have that Nancy didn't? That made Steve and Robin and now Eddie stick to her like glue? That made them want her there when she didn't know anything about what they'd been through and could probably never understand?
What made Vickie Summers so special that she's taken what should have been Nancy's place beside her friends? Because that's what really bothered her. It wasn't that Vickie didn't know, it's that Nancy felt she took her place. That Nancy wanted to be where Vickie was, and she didn't know how to ask for it. Asking, trying to talk about how Steve and Robin had bonded so well after Starcourt while she ignored them and then how they bonded with and absorbed Eddie halfway into their bizarre dynamic after vecna, would feel too much like begging or admitting that she isn't quite sure how to make friends.
Nancy is jealous. Jealous that she isn't friends like Vickie and Eddie and Steve and Robin are. That she isn't the one making Robin smile and giggle so cutely. So. She tries harder. Tries to be the friend that Robin and Eddie and even Steve deserve. She tries not to be annoyed by Robin rambling (it really isn't that bad, just. Not relevant. She likes heading Robin's voice, but thinks she could really work on having a filter.), or the way Steve always asks clarifying questions when he should really have known better, or Eddie talking half in different character voices. She thinks it's getting better, her relationship with them. But, still, Vickie is always there, glued to Robin's side almost as much as Steve is, and that always annoys Nancy. Niggles at her brain, that she doesn't deserve to be there because she didn't know what Robin had lived through and fought. Nancy did.
Eventually, Nancy figures out that she wants more from Robin. Doesn't want to be a friend she smiles at occasionally, wants to be the reason she smiles all the time. And that's terrifying. Because Nancy had never considered liking girls, never thought liking girls was a thing she could do. It was something other women did, not Nancy. She liked boys and always had, but. But maybe she always liked girls...too. maybe it wasn't something she that was one or the other. Being different in a town like Hawkins puts a target on your back, being queer in a town like Hawkins even moreso.
She's leaving Hawkins in the fall. But she thinks she wants someone to come home to. She wants Robin to come home to. Robin and Steve seem to be okay with it, from what she can glean of some veiled comments they've made that she's only caught now she's looking for them. They've made some remarks around the kids that make it seem like they'd be safe to come to, no matter what. And sometimes, some of the comments Robin makes about actresses seem a little...well. admiring.
They probably, hopefully, wouldn't hate her for this. And now Nancy and Robin have a friendship, she thinks she can. It's early July, and Nancy is going to ask Robin out.
She gets her alone, bites her lip, and asks Robin in no uncertain terms to go out on a date with her. Robin stares, mouth agape.
"oh," she says.
Nancy smiles, a little. "Yeah. So. What do you say?"
Robin blinks, and takes a shuddering breath. "Oh my god. I. Nancy I'm really flattered but I'm no-i dont- uhg. I'm dating someone." she groans, rubbing her hands over her face.
And oh. Nancy read the situation wrong "oh. Steve. It's fine! You don't like girls, thats--thats totally fine! Id just, um. That is,-"
Robin waves her hands. "No, no! I'm not dating Steve! You clocked me correctly. Definitely gay! Don't worry about that! Hah."
Something in Nancy twists. "Oh?"
"yeah. Yep. Not only am I a lesbian in a small town, I'm a lesbian in a small town that somehow also has a girlfriend." Robin says the word dreamily. Like she still can't believe it. Nancy's brain fills with static. She was too late. Too caught up with how she missed so many chances in the past, that she missed her chance now.
But Robin keeps talking. "And, like. Even if I didn't, I don't think it would have worked between us anyways. Too different, y'know?"
"what?"
Robin gestures with her hands between them. "Well, like. I like being your friend. But, I mean, I wouldn't date you?"
"why not?"
Blinking, Robin tilts her head. "Because of Steve?"
Something bubbles hot in Nancy. "What the fuck does Steve have to do with wether or not we would date?"
"Nancy. Steve's my best friend." As though that explains anything.
"yes? And?"
Robin looks uncomfortable, shifting sideways. "listen, Nancy. You're a good friend. And I've just rejected you. Maybe we should just. Ah. Leave this? I'm really sorry. I'll give you some space, just find me when you're ready?"
"no. What do you mean that we couldn't date because Steve is your best friend? Why would that have any effect on how you date?"
"it doesn't! Not really! Just. Nancy, you broke his heart. His soft, squishy heart! You kinda sorta cheated on him-details very unclear-and then just. Moved on. Pretended like nothing happened. I couldn't do that to Steve. Dating a friend's ex is a bad move. Dating an ex that broke a friend's heart is just cruel." She sighs. Looks sad. As though she isn't the one rejecting Nancy and tearing her apart for how a relationship ended almost two years ago. What did that matter, now? "You're my friend, Nancy. I like you! But even if Steve has moved on, forgiven and forgotten, and if things were a bit different given his full support for us dating if that's what I wanted, I think I'll always remember how he-- how much it hurt him."
"oh"
"I'm. Nancy I'm really sorry. I know how scary it is to put yourself out there, especially like this. It's not fair. I'm just sorry. But. It was true. Steve's the most important person to me. I couldn't ever hurt him. Not like that. Not even if he said he was fine with it."
Nancy stands and walks away. She doesn't cry until she locks her bedroom door.
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strangersteddierthings · 11 months
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Porcelain Steve - Part 6
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.
"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.
"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.
"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."
"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."
"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."
Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"
Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."
"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.
"What?"
"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."
"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.
"You are first, I assume?"
"No. Robin is. She got five pages."
That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.
Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."
He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.
Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?
Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.
"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.
Eddie,
I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.
Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.
Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.
Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.
This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.) Oh. He means us. - El Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will Steve laughed and says thanks. - El I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?
Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.
"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."
Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.
Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)
"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.
Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.
Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.
Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.
"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.
He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.
Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.
"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."
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