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#steve and el
findafight · 8 months
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We haven't seen much of El and Steve interact because they'd be too powerful. Steve "acquires little siblings without really trying" Harrington and El "gets parents and brothers almost instantly" Hopper would see each other like
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And be immediately glued to each other through mutual sibling collector syndrome.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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what if they won? what if steve was trying to get the injured eddie out of the upside down as the gates were sewing themselves back up again? what if he knew that not everyone could get out safely, so he sends robin and nancy through. then he sends them eddie and hoists dustin after him and by the time everyone else is through, he knows there's no time.
dustin screams. he curses him out and sobs as the gate closes between them. steve promises it'll be fine, just take care of eddie, he'll be fine, but they both know he can't know that. robin looks so betrayed, so heartbroken, he can't bear to meet her eyes. just looks to the floor and tries to tune out their pleads until the gate's shut for good and he's all alone.
maybe he hadn't really thought it through. just figured his chances were better on this side than trying to squeeze through an actively closing gate and possibly being torn in half between worlds. decided that, out of all of them, he was the one who deserved to go back the least. they all had families that actually cared, that were waiting for them. they had each other, and soon enough they'd forget about him. it was all for the best.
but it still hurt. he still sat in the upside down version of eddie's trailer and wept. wished to tell dustin he loved him like a little brother, wished to kiss robin on her head one more time, wished to know if max was okay, wished that he and eddie could've become real, proper friends.
wished to know if there was something else eddie had wanted to tell him before they split off. if he'd misread things, especially after he'd pushed so hard for him and nancy to get back together. but none of that mattered anymore, because he was stuck here now.
after a few hours of crying and wallowing he gets his ass up and decides he's gonna at least try to survive for a while. he decides to stay in eddie's trailer. doesn't feel like he could make it to his own house, and doesn't even think he wants to. though he does trek to the nearest convenience store (and cries there, too, because he remembers bringing max and the kids here for snacks so many times). picks up whatever non-perishable food he can carry and then holes up.
he thinks of little will byers. cries some more, for him. so small, all alone in this place. how strong he was, how he was braver than steve ever would be, even at his young age. thinks he'd like to tell him that, if he ever could.
he's not sure how long passes. maybe days, maybe weeks. not like it's easy to tell how time goes down here. he would say he lost hope, but he never really had any hope to lose. he never intended for anyone to come and get him, made his peace with the fact he'd die here when he watched the ceiling gate close back up again. it's pathetic, how he mopes around and sits in a single spot for days on end. staring at the walls, not moving a muscle.
that's how she finds him. when he hears the door to the trailer jiggle, he just sort of thinks: ah, this is it. something's come for me. wonders if his parents will come to his funeral, if he even gets one.
it slams open. he doesn't even turn his head, doesn't want to know what it is that'll have him. just closes his eyes and waits, listens as it quietly comes towards him. crouches between his legs and- and takes his hands- what-
"steve." he opens his eyes and the floodgates start up again because it's el. her hair's buzzed again, which breaks his heart because he'd been the one to show her how to take care of it when she was growing it out. knew how proud she was of how long it'd gotten. but she's smiling so brightly, like she's won the lottery.
"el?" he asks, and he's shocked at how broken he sounds. "why are you here?"
"i have come to take you home." she says, rather matter of factly, leaving exactly zero room for argument. there's a fierce determination in her eyes, and she squeezes both of his hands.
but it's so dangerous here, he wants to say, you could've gotten hurt. why go through all of that for me?
and maybe she's been hiding mind reading powers from them, because she adds, "everyone misses you. i would have come sooner, but it took a while to get back to hawkins." then, she smiles. "i think they would have found a way even if i didn't, though."
it's like it all hits him at once. they've missed him. they've all been... looking for ways to come get him, this whole time. however long it's been. they didn't just forget about him like he wanted expected. the very idea suddenly seems so silly.
he takes a shaky breath. "well, in that case, let's not keep them waiting, yeah?" she smiles, big and happy, and nods.
part 2
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estrellami-1 · 9 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Nancy gets back with Jonathan not too long after. He barges in and makes a beeline straight for Steve. “You know where Will is?”
Steve nods. “There’s a lot to explain.”
“Then you’d better start soon.”
Robin, his savior, steps in. “C’mon, Jonny-boy, let’s go for a walk.” She leads him outside, and Steve can hear her start. “What do you know about time travel?”
He smiles and looks around. He can hear Eddie upstairs, practicing the song. The boys are occupied with planning, Nancy’s looking over Mike’s shoulder, and El’s watching him with big brown eyes. He focuses on her and lets his smile grow. “Wanna help me make dinner?”
Her eyes widen a little, but she nods. “What are we making?”
“Probably sandwiches,” he shrugs. “I’m not sure what else I have. Can you find the bread in the pantry? And there’s butter knives in that drawer over there, we’ll need two.” He winks. “One for you, and one for me.”
She does so, and he pulls out the condiments and lunch meats, as well as the jelly. “And the peanut butter, if you can find it,” he calls from where his head’s stuck in the fridge. He looks around for anything else he might need and grabs the pickles before closing the door.
“Y’know the best part about making dinner?” He asks her, impish grin growing on his face. She hums inquisitively. “We get to make ours first and eat while we make the rest.”
She giggles and accepts the high five he holds out.
They get to work assembling sandwiches. She pauses, mayonnaise slathered halfway onto a piece of bread. “Steve?” He hums. “I’m scared.”
He sighs and puts down his knife. “I am too, El. Terrified, if you can believe it. But I have faith in us. I know we can do it.” He wipes his hands off and rounds the counter, taking her hands in his. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life. Even stronger than Vecna. And this time he won’t know we’re coming. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, and we will defeat him. We’ll find Will and Barb, and after this we’ll never have to worry about it again.” He strokes a hand over her head and sighs. “There’s something else, too. I know where Papa is.”
She pulls back, eyes wide, posture stiff. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m not going to take you back there. Ever. Okay?”
She nods hesitantly, but allows him to pull her closer again. “I was going to ask if you want us to take care of him,” he murmurs. “Lock him inside and set the building on fire, or something.”
She shakes her head. “He loves me!”
“Oh, El,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same thing of my parents for a long time. No matter how mad they got, how much they yelled, how much they hurt me… they said it, so it must be true, right? They must love me. I must be the problem.” He shakes his head. “That’s not love. You fear him, El, and for good reason. He made you into what you are, but you never asked for this, and it’s okay to be angry about it.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, and he sighs. “I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he murmurs. “If the answer is still no, that’s okay. But if you change your mind, that’s okay, too.”
She nods, steps out of the hug. He lets her go, feeling like he’s almost knocked a vase off a table. His heart’s still thumping oddly, eyes wide, scared to make the wrong move.
But then she looks up at him and offers him a small smile. “Thank you,” she says. “I know the way you treat me is different from how Papa treats me. I do not know yet if they are simply different forms of love or if you are right. I think you are, but…”
“You need to see for yourself,” Steve nods. Moves the metaphorical vase back from the edge of the table. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help prove it.”
“I will,” she says, and picks up her butter knife again, spreading mustard onto a piece of bread. He goes back to his side and smiles at her.
“Steve?” She asks after a second. “When my hair grows back. What does it look like?”
He thinks for a second. “It’s fluffy,” he says. “Very soft and light. Like cotton candy.” He puts his head to one side. “Floofy,” he decides, and grins.
She giggles. “Like you!”
He opens his mouth to tell her no, she’s wrong, except… he can’t. “Yours is even more beautiful,” he tells her. “And kids in school nicknamed me ‘the Hair’. That’s how famous this was.” He tilts his head her direction, and a lock of hair falls in his face. He splutters and shakes his head, grinning when she laughs again.
“I am very glad you came back, Steve,” she says suddenly, seriously, a little at odds with the smile still quirking her lips up.
His heart breaks and mends all in the same second. It feels like absolution. “Me too,” he says, and means it.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ao3
Dustin gives Eddie ownership of the walkie. At some point, an agreement must have been made for Lucas and Max to stop talking on their channel, but Eddie isn’t aware of any such conversation having taken place. It feels like he has tunnel vision, the whole world narrowing down to the room, to the bed in the centre of it. To Steve. 
He changes frequencies constantly on the walkie, gritting his teeth against the static. Steve’s voice never comes through again, and his face is back to being eerily still, no expression. Blank. It’s an unwelcome reminder of Dustin’s past words: He looks... gone. 
Dustin leaves him alone late afternoon, saying he’ll ask Nancy to get in touch with Mike again, get an update on whoever this El is, her whereabouts. Eddie nods distractedly as he goes. 
He tries to keep playing the song, but the harshness of the static sets him on edge. His fingers can only push weakly against the guitar strings, the shittiest attempt at a chord position that he’s ever seen; and soon his hands are shaking too badly to even press the button on the casette player. Fucking pathetic. 
All at once, the static disappears. Eddie looks up at the absence of it, to find that Robin has turned the walkie off. 
She stares at him.
“What?” Eddie says, voice hoarse.
She doesn’t reply. Instead, she kneels down in front of him, a mirror image of Dustin. Painstakingly slow, she reaches out with one hand, as if expecting him to flinch; and Eddie thinks of himself in the boathouse, clutching onto that damned glass bottle like a lifeline, how he felt one touch away from losing it completely. 
This time, he’s able to catch his breath. Holds it. Breathes out. When Robin begins to uncurl his fingers from the neck of the guitar, he lets her without resistance. Then she carefully takes the full weight of the guitar from him, sets it aside.
“Look,” she says and nods at the heart monitor. Eddie follows her direction. He watches for a moment, then closes his eyes, listens to the slow, steady record of Steve’s pulse; and his breathing gradually follows the rhythm of each heartbeat. 
When he opens his eyes, Robin is smiling at him. 
“He’s still there,” she says. “He’s not gonna disappear if you take a break.”
A part of him wants to argue, wants to grab the guitar back and scream at her, no matter how cruel that might be. Chrissy, Patrick, Steve—they all died right in front of me, and I did nothing. Now I’ve got the chance to do something, save someone, and I can’t because, what, I’m fucking tired? I need to get a grip. But a larger part of him knows that he’s useless to Steve like this.
So he blows out a long, slow breath. Raises his eyes to the ceiling. Gives a tiny, reluctant nod.
Robin pulls up a chair next to him in response, then says, apropos of nothing, “I haven’t filled you in on the full Starcourt Experience.” 
Eddie tears his gaze away from Steve to blink at her in confusion. “Uh, no? Pretty sure you have, Buckley.”
She’d told Eddie about her summer at the mall while they were all travelling to the War Zone, a jaw-dropping tale that had Eddie looking around at the crew anew, with a far from infrequent thought: Oh, great, I’m the only normal one here.
Robin shifts so that she’s sitting side-on, leans back and hooks her feet over Eddie’s knees. There’s something both casual and sincere in the gesture, like they’ve been friends for years; Eddie doesn’t know if he’s worthy of it, yet Robin keeps smiling like he is. 
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you the really important stuff,” she says, tilting her head forward like they’re gossiping in class.
And… she talks. 
She talks and talks and talks, gesturing wildly with her hands, and gives Eddie a rundown of what can only be described as ‘Steve’s greatest hits at Scoops Ahoy.’
There’s the time when, near delirious after a long weekend shift, Steve had started singing along to Material Girl as it blared over the mall speakers—and, when Robin made a show of announcing her presence, sure that he’d stop and pretend it never happened, he’d just kept going, adding stupid choreography as he mopped. 
All the times when he would give customers the bitchiest dead-eyed stare if they tried to enter the store before it had opened; when Robin would have to duck into the back so no-one saw her laughing.
Robin barely pauses to draw breath, so that the countless stories crowd Eddie’s head, leaving, for once, little room for worrying; and she must see that something within him has settled, if only for now, because she doesn’t stop him when he eventually picks up the guitar again. 
He doesn’t sing, just plays the melody as Robin keeps talking. She paints such a vivid picture that Eddie doesn’t want to interrupt, almost feels like he can see the ice-cream parlour despite never having set foot inside it—this unexpected haven within a neon monstrosity. Sees Robin catching Steve singing, sees her dubiousness melt away as he dances, using the mop as a prop. 
Eddie keeps strumming as Robin goes on, laughing quietly as she mimes Steve’s idiosyncrasies: running his fingers through his hair, how he’d open the drawer of money at the register with a little drumbeat, the secret eye roll he’d give Robin before having to serve someone particularly difficult.
One such anecdote is being shared, where the punchline is Steve finally snapping that, “This is Scoops Ahoy, ma’am, we can’t work miracles,” and both Robin and Eddie are giggling, despite—or perhaps because of everything; and Eddie looks up at just the right moment, because he—he sees—
Steve’s finger twitching.
It’s the first sign of life in hours.
Robin beams, gingerly prods the finger back. “’Bout time you showed up, dingus.”
Eddie feels a sudden sting in his eyes. He has to bite his lip to keep it together, to move on to the chorus without stopping.
Still, something must show on his face, because when Robin glances at him, she says, “Oh, Eddie,” with a gentle kindness he can’t help but feel he doesn’t deserve. But you’ve known him longer. I’ve got no right to…
When the song is over, Robin carefully pries the guitar from him again, and somewhere along the way, Eddie finds that they’re holding hands. They don’t let go for a long time.
-
Eddie tries to return the walkie to Dustin, but he doesn’t tune back in to his usual channel, doesn’t even turn it on. Instead he takes the seat that had been Robin’s, tilts his head back, eyes ever so slightly unfocused. Eddie recognises the look from Hellfire, whenever Dustin needed to think deeply about his character’s next move—and it feels like such a strange thing to remember now, as if from another world entirely. Eddie supposes that’s true.
“I’m still mad at you,” Dustin says suddenly. 
Eddie nods, half to himself—Dustin looks away. Guilt sits sour in his stomach; the sound of Dustin’s desperate screams as he drove away has never once left him.
“That’s… that’s fair,” he says, quiet. He moves forward a little in his seat, knocking his foot gently against Dustin’s. “I’m… shit, Dustin, I know I keep saying it, but I’m so sorry.” 
It still feels like it’s useless to say, but it’s honest, at least. There are a number of times where Wayne has decided to shield him from certain things over the years; and though Eddie had understood why, that had never stopped him from feeling bitter about it. Cheated.
“I’m mad at both of you,” Dustin clarifies. His eyes dart over to Steve then away again, as if he’s already beating himself up for even thinking it. He pushes back against Eddie’s foot until the sole of his sneaker is pressing against Eddie’s, then draws his own foot back, as if suddenly out of energy.
When Dustin finally looks at him, Eddie offers an apologetic smile. “He…” He glances over at Steve before meeting Dustin’s gaze again. “He made me promise,” he says weakly.
Dustin sighs; it’s resigned, world-weary. “Yeah, I figured.” When he speaks again, his voice sounds strained, rising almost like he’s asking a question. “I think I knew? Like, before all of…” This time, he knocks Eddie’s foot first. “It’s not exactly… he has a sorta… track record, I mean.” 
Eddie sighs, too. “Yeah man, I figured,” he echoes. 
“He made everything… God, I don’t know. He made it,” and Dustin gestures vaguely with his hands, “he made it easy. Easy to, like, laugh about or… Not forget the danger, that’s… I just… It was weird, after the mall, the rest of the summer…” 
Dustin trails off again, and Eddie tries to fill in the blanks as best he can. 
“We didn’t really talk about it,” Dustin continues. “He came to pick me up from Mike’s one day, and his face was still, uh, not great, but he just made this super corny joke about—ugh, I can’t even remember but, Eddie, it was so embarrassing, I know that for sure—”
But the wobble in Dustin’s voice tells a different story. 
“And he… he was singing along to the radio, and I—I just thought that I didn’t want him to—to save us, or be badass or cool or whatever the fuck he’s still hung up about from high school, I just—wanted him to be there.”
I know, Eddie thinks, because he does; because it’s so clear now, how much of a big deal Steve is to Dustin, and Eddie kind of wants to smack his past self who sneered when Steve graduated and he didn’t, and thought bet King Steve still thinks he’s hot shit. 
He reaches forward and squeezes Dustin’s knee. “We’ll get him back.” 
Dustin nods and scrubs briefly at his eyes. “I think I thought I could stop it,” he says. “If I just—if I stayed with…”
Eddie shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have let you,” he finds himself saying again. It’s obvious that Steve would have rather died than let anything happen to Dustin. Eddie can hardly fault him for that.  
“Yeah,” Dustin says, and he laughs a little. He sounds tired. “I know.” 
-
It’s about 9pm when Dustin says it, watching from the window for a sight of his mom’s car turning into the hospital parking lot. “Um, Eddie? I need you to just—check I’m not hallucinating or something.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Shit.” Dustin waves his arms frantically, shaking his head. “Not like that! Just—” He taps at the window. “This guy looked really like Hopper.” 
Like, died in the ‘mall fire’ Chief Hopper? Eddie thinks, still not quite recovered from the scare. He goes to the window, follows the direction in which Dustin is pointing. “What the fuck.”
-
The girl looks about Dustin’s age. Her hair is cut very short, and when they are left alone in Steve’s hospital room, she looks at Eddie intensely. 
“You are Eddie Munson,” she says with a calming certainty.
Eddie nods, but he thinks he would have gone along with it no matter what she had said; she could have told him he was Jack the Ripper reincarnated with the same confidence and he would’ve said, Well, shit, if you say so.
“My name is El,” she adds simply. “I’m here to help.” 
Eddie stares at her. Some of Steve’s words come back to him, when he was eating fucking cereal and trying to pretend like he had even a bit of control over whatever his life even was now. 
“What, like a superhero?”
And the kid beams. “Exactly.”
-
Dustin has left Eddie the walkie again, and El turns it on so the static is loud. 
“You think you can… find him?” Eddie says.
“Yes,” El says. Again, it sounds like it’s a breeze the way she says it, like it’s nothing. “Henry is dead. I tried to…” She bites her lip; it’s only now that she appears to falter. “ I tried to bring Steve back but I—I’m sorry. I was… tired.”
Eddie privately thinks she’s gone to the Steve Harrington School of Downplaying.
“Jesus, his pulse,” he whispers. “That was you?”
El nods. “I tried to—it was all I could—”
“Fucking Christ—sorry,” Eddie says, bites back more curses, more prayers. “Thank you.”
She smiles—and God, she’s just a girl, Eddie thinks, why was this—why was any of it—thrust upon her?
El places a scarf over her eyes like a blindfold without explanation. The static from the radio gets even louder.
And they wait.
“He’s not in The Upside Down,” El says. “It’s like…” She stretches out both arms, lays one hand flat. Then, she puts her other hand slightly underneath the first. “The Upside Down is the floor. We’re here.” She wiggles the fingers of the highest hand. “And Steve is here.” She wiggles the hand that’s slightly below the other. “He’s stuck.” El’s nose scrunches. “Like going halfway through a Gate.”
Eddie plays My Little Town via the tape while they keep waiting. The song competes with the noise from the walkie.
The Gate comparison leads to El telling him that The Upside Down is slowly becoming sealed off from Hawkins after Henry’s death. Eddie thinks of Wayne seemingly not noticing the gaping split in the world at the trailer, thinks suddenly of an English class, of ‘Not with a bang but a whimper,’—and wonders if that is how the world is saved, too.  
Then El stiffens. “Steve?”
Eddie holds his breath. An explosion of static, but it somehow, just for a second, sounds joyful.
El smiles. “Hi. I’m okay. Are you…?”
She goes quiet for a long moment. Her smile fades, but Eddie is relieved to find not a trace of fear on her face.
“He says that he’s… sorry,” she says slowly. “For being… slow?”
“Oh my god, Steve, shut the fuck up with your fucking apologies,” Eddie says without thinking.
El giggles. “I don’t think I should tell him that.” There’s a pause, and she giggles again. “He says that he can guess what you said.”
The tape has moved on to the next song, so Eddie hurriedly makes to wind it back. El stops him.
“Steve says that this is better,” she says. She briefly mimes strumming a guitar. “He can tell that it’s you. It makes a… clearer path for him to follow.”
In his haste to play the guitar, Eddie fumbles the opening notes completely; he swears that he can hear the static shift into something that resembles a far-off laugh.
-
“He’s saying sorry again,” El says, once Eddie has finished singing. “He’s tired.”
“That’s…” Eddie swallows. “Tell him that’s okay. Please.”
She does. Then she asks for the time.
Eddie glances at the clock on the wall. “Nearly ten.” 
“Steve’s asking if you can try again,” El says, “in an hour.” 
“Yeah, ’course I will,” Eddie says, and his heart twists a bit at the thought that Steve must have phrased it like a question rather than a certainty.
“Goodbye, Steve,” El says softly. “You’re almost home.”
As she removes the scarf, Eddie is alarmed to discover that her nose is bleeding.
“Shit, kid, you okay? Should I call for—?”
But she shakes her head. “It just happens, it’s all right.” She rubs at her temples for a bit, and says, “Sorry, I had to stop. I was getting tired, too.”
“You’re good, just—take it easy,” Eddie insists, still watching with concern as she wipes her nose with her scarf.
“I’m really okay,” El says. “Compared to everything else, finding Steve was…” She pauses, then enunciates carefully: “Easy as shit.”
She says it like she’s only ever heard it in a movie, like she’s trying it on for size.
Eddie decides right then and there that he adores her.
-
“I like your hair,” El says suddenly. Eddie had got her a drink from the vending machine, worried that she’d keel over or something as soon as he looked away. “It’s very pretty.”
Eddie smiles. “Thanks.”
“My hair used to be long.” There’s a melancholy tinge to her words that has Eddie listening intently. “I think longer than yours? But I don’t know.” And she grins, small but genuine. “Maybe I would have won.”
“This took me years,” Eddie says and he goes ham on the delivery to make her laugh, tosses back his head dramatically. “I bet you could beat me again, in a few months.”
El beams. Then she pauses, grows serious. “I recognised you,” she says slowly, “from Steve’s… when he was running. He had to—to hide in memories, and—”
“Hey, hey, stop,” Eddie says quickly, but he keeps his voice gentle. Because no matter how much he’s burning to know, he can only think of what he’d want if the situation were reversed and…
“That’s in Steve’s head, okay? That… that should be just for him.”
El nods with a heaviness that suggests she more than understands.
-
Eddie is pushing his luck, he knows it. It’s already past 11, and he’s sung through the song twice, with hardly a break; this time there was minimal change on Steve’s heart monitor.
Now he’s playing the guitar as quietly as possible to avoid reproach.
“Hey, Harrington,” he says mid-strum, makes his voice go low and teasing like they’re still at school together, like they’ve just caught each other’s eyes in the cafeteria. “Wanna know a secret?”
For a moment, he tries to imagine Steve smirking back, rolling his eyes maybe… but then he realises that he doesn’t know how Steve would react, not really. He didn’t even get the chance to process Steve’s response to “Harrington’s got her, dontcha big boy?”—a stupid aside, but at the time he couldn’t help himself; he felt giddy, still almost certain that they were careening towards disaster, but that they might as well have some fun along the way.
I want more time. I want to know you more, Steve Harrington.
“I saw you once, after Hellfire,” Eddie murmurs. “Never said. I was in my van. You were picking up Henderson, and…” He sighs, leans closer, watches the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. “I was waiting for it, you know? Waiting for you to roll your eyes and act all put upon. I’ve seen what it’s like when folks are… tolerated, right?” He goes quiet for a few bars of music, thoughtful. “But that never happened. Couldn’t hear whatever the hell it was you were saying, but Henderson was talking your ear off and you were smiling, and—Christ, man, all I could think was he must really love this kid.” Eddie laughs in self-deprecation. “Didn’t really know what to do with it, honestly. Kinda pretended to forget about it. Didn’t want the fucking ‘Munson Doctrine’ to be bullshit just yet, I guess.”
He finishes the song without saying anything more; his hand falls on the bed and he stifles a yawn, then starts when he feels…
Steve’s finger tapping on the back of his hand. Slow, deliberate. Almost as if he’d be drumming his fingers if he could. Eddie searches, but Steve’s face is placid.
“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, huh, Harrington?”
He doesn’t want to pull away from Steve’s touch, so he puts the guitar down and sings without it. Keeps his voice quiet but steady. Just for Steve.
And just as he reaches, “In my little town, I never meant nothing, I was just my father’s son,” he hears it.
Steve’s heart rate is picking up.
“Oh, God,” Eddie says, torn between gripping Steve’s hand and calling for help. “Steve, it’s okay, you’re—”
And then he stops.
Because Steve’s eyes are opening, fatigued but lucid; and Eddie can catch a tiny smile beneath his mask.
And Eddie feels Steve’s finger move, tracing a pattern across his palm. He laughs through an abrupt sob when he realises what it is.
Letters.
Hi.
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withacapitalp · 4 months
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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 19
Part One Link to ao3 Part 18.
Part Twenty
As always thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for generally keeping my head on my shoulders and betaing everything I always throw at you guys ily ily ily
Step Nineteen: Sing a Song
“Are you sure about this Steve?” Claudia asked for the millionth time as Steve opened her coat and held it out in front of him with a patient smile. 
“I’m sure. Honest, Mrs. Henderson.” Steve said. He had gone through this exact song and dance with every parent except for Joyce and Hop, and Claudia was the final hold out. Truthfully he had expected Karen Wheeler or the Sinclairs to be the most unsure about leaving their sons at his house overnight, but a few small platitudes had been enough to get them to let go and go home. 
Well, a few platitudes and a bottle of wine to hit the road with. 
“Steven,” She immediately replied, a faux warning tone coloring her voice as she wagged her finger at him with a grumpy look in her eye. 
“Claudia,” Steve amended, still feeling that little awkwardness that he always had when he addressed any adult by their first name. He could practically hear his mother’s voice in his ear telling him off for being impolite. “It’s not a problem, and besides, they’re just going to sleep. Super easy.”
Steve wasn’t exactly sure if that was true, but he had hope. All six of his brats had been letting out big yawns as he had ushered them up the stairs a little while ago, and he hadn’t heard any shouting coming from upstairs yet. There was no way of knowing if the excitement of a sleepover would give them a second wind of some form, but even that would be short lived. 
Besides, Eddie had just left to drop off his friends with the promise of coming back soon, so the quicker he got the kids in bed, the better. 
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, dear, you know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for Dusty and the others,” Claudia said, finally allowing Steve to help her into her coat, “I just can’t believe you don't get tired of having them all here so often. I mean, doesn't it exhaust you? I can barely handle the occasional playdate they have at my house!” 
“It does exhaust me,” Steve joked with a soft laugh, “but it’s also nice? A bit hard to explain, I guess.” 
“You’re starting to sound like a father,” Claudia teased, buttoning up her extremely bright pink coat., “You’ll make some girl very happy someday.” 
Steve laughed along because that was what was appropriate, but he couldn’t deny the weird pit in his stomach that was beginning to grow. A month ago he would have thought it was because of his breakup with Nancy and the prospect that he might never find someone he loved like her ever again. 
That made sense. 
But Steve could say with almost one hundred percent certainty that Nancy was nothing but a friend now. Someone important to him, but wholly platonic. He could also say that he still very much wanted to be a father. It was one of the things he wanted most in life.
So why was Claudia’s joke making him so uncomfortable? 
It made zero sense. There wasn’t any reason. Something just felt… wrong. 
Luckily their conversation appeared to be over. There were still the normal polite farewells and long goodbyes in the doorway, but that was all perfunctory. Steve could go through those motions without much thought, and before he knew it the front door shut and he was finally alone in his house once more. 
Thump. 
Mostly alone. 
“You shitheads better have your pajamas on and teeth brushed by the time I reach the top of these steps!” Steve called up from the bottom, standing still and relishing in the sudden flurry of activity that was coming from his bedroom. 
The kids weren’t even a bit frightened of him, but they still listened to him when they felt like it, and especially if he was doing something big like letting them all stay overnight so they could spend more time with El. It was almost novel, knowing they were going to actually do what he said with only minimal complaining. 
Steve waited one second longer before starting to climb the stairs, purposefully making his steps just a touch louder so he knew the kids could hear him approaching. He even made a show of slowly opening the door to his bedroom, only to be greeted by a truly miraculous sight. 
All six of them tucked tight into his bed, quiet and calm. Max, Lucas, and Will were even pretending to be asleep, just to really sell the bit. Max and Lucas weren’t doing too good, but Steve might’ve actually believed Will’s act if he didn’t know that Will always slept on his left, and not his right. 
“Look at that, turns out you can do as you’re told,” He said, putting his hands on his hips and biting his lip to avoid directly laughing at how good they were pretending to be. The ‘sleepers’ opened their eyes, and the others all relaxed at the easy going tone their babysitter was using. 
“Fuck you, Steve,” Mike grumbled, ever the contrarian. 
“I can still call your mom and dad to pick you up, Wheeler,” Steve threatened lightly, both of them knowing he would do no such thing. 
Still, it was enough to get Mike to back down, grumbling as he snuggled in tighter between Dustin and El. 
“How’d the plan go?” Dustin asked eagerly, leaning over his grumpy friend and jamming his elbow’s into Mike’s ribs, causing the other boy to snarl and try to push him off without success. 
“Pretty much perfect,” Steve sighed walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling at one of Max’s braids idly just to rile her up a little bit. “El should have no problem going to school next year.”
The kids immediately began to cheer and whoop, already excitedly planning all the things they would get to do together next year.
All except one. 
“What’s wrong Supergirl?” Steve asked softly, furrowing his brow at El’s stormy expression. “I thought this would make you happy.” 
That was the whole reason he had come up with this insane plan- he had wanted to make El happy. And yet, here she was, practically miserable. 
El sucked in one cheek, chewing on it in a move that was so reminiscent of Hopper it almost made Steve laugh. She looked just like her dad when he was deep in thought. 
“I am happy about being allowed to go to school,” El finally began, her words slow as she thought through the exact words she wanted to use. Steve waited patiently, knowing she would come to the words when she had them, or would ask for one that might help explain better. 
“I am… uncomfortable with lying. Friends don’t lie.”
Friends don’t lie. 
Steve wasn’t exactly sure who had taught that to these kids, but if he ever found out, he would not be responsible for what he did. 
Don’t lie. What a stupid thing to teach kids. In Steve’s opinion- honesty was overrated. There was nothing wrong with a white lie, or a big fat one, as long as it was for a good reason. What was the point in telling his mother that his dad was out with his secretary again? What sense was there in being truthful when Carol asked if the other girls thought she was mean? Saying those things just hurt everyone, Steve included. 
It was better to be smart, to be strategic with the truth, and hope for the best. He would lie to everyone around him, as long as it was what would keep them happiest. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and actually, knowing would hurt more. 
Still, he couldn’t say that to them. Especially not to El of all people. The other kids barely understood; her black and white way of thinking wouldn’t be able to get it. Not yet. 
But then again, maybe it would be better if she never did.   
“Friends don’t lie, but friends do keep secrets,” Steve decided, hoping that would be enough. “We’re going to keep your secrets, so you can stay safe. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” El said almost immediately, knowing how important her safety was to Steve. She paused, and Steve could practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she let his words truly sink in. 
Once she did she took a deep breath and turned back to him, making sure Steve was looking at her as she spoke. 
“But I still don’t like it? Does that make sense?” El asked hesitantly. 
“I don’t like it either,” Mike said, and this time Steve could tell he wasn’t just agreeing because it was El. Mike’s little glower had turned into a full blown scowl, and his arms flew around as his voice began to raise, “El saved the world. Twice. She’s a hero, not a monster!” 
No, she wasn’t a monster, and Steve would never want her to think of herself as one, but the world wasn’t so kind. Before he could even begin to try explaining that, the kids kept going. 
“It does kind of suck that I can’t tell my mom anything,” Max admitted, uncharacteristically quiet as she kept her eyes firmly on the blanket covering her legs. “I don’t care about telling Billy or Neil or anything, but my mom asks me about my nightmares, and I can’t tell her why I have them. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets from her.”
“My mom’s still bummed about Mews,” Dustin muttered. 
“My mom knows and it’s still hard to talk to her,” Will added on, looking far too old for just being twelve. 
They all looked old. It was like Steve could almost see the adults they would be someday far down the line. Adults with secrets to bear, and lies to tell, and too many things they would never be able to explain to the world around him. Things that their mothers would never be able to help them with.
Was that what he was now?
Steve had never even considered talking to his mother about everything they had been through. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind once. And now that he was thinking about it, he still couldn’t imagine a world where he would ever talk to his mom about any of this. 
… It was hard to recall the last time he had talked to his mom about anything real. 
“I know it sucks, but it’s not safe guys,” He said, focusing on the thing he could worry about and ignoring the panging ache in his heart. This wasn’t a time to think about his mommy issues. This was about the kids. 
“Yeah, being put in cuffs once was enough for me,” Lucas said, unconsciously rubbing at his wrists. “Not fun.”
“I do not want to go back to the lab. Secret’s are necessary,” El agreed, reaching over and tangling her fingers in Lucas’s, “but they suck.”
“Secrets suck a big fat one,” Dustin declared. 
El leaned back, quirking her head to the side. 
“A big fat what?” She asked, the absolute picture of innocence she was. 
There was a beat of quiet as they all registered exactly what she had just said, and then as a group they all began to laugh. Steve tried in vain to stifle his giggles, not wanting El to feel like she was being laughed at, but she was smiling too, pleased as punch to get her friends feeling happy again instead of sad. 
“I’ll explain it some other time, Elliegirl,” Steve promised, tugging the covers more securely around the brats as he did. “And you guys can always talk to me, you know that right? I’m not the same as your parents, but I’m here.” 
Some sleepy nods and yawns answered him, and Steve figured the conversation had reached its natural conclusion. But, just as he reached over to grab the lights, a quiet little voice broke through the silence. 
“... Who do you talk to?” 
Steve paused, his fingers still curled around the knob on his bedside lamp as he turned to give Will a curious look. 
“What?” 
“You said we can talk to you, but who do you talk to?” Will explained, a little nervous like always, but not backing down. 
No one. 
“Plenty of people. I’ve got my friends, and Nancy and Jonathan,” Steve replied, a little too cheerfully, trying to ignore the immediate response that had come to mind. 
“But you can’t talk to Eddie or the others about the upside down stuff, and you barely talk to Nancy and Jon,” Max argued, joining Will in staring Steve down now that he had considered the question, “so, who do you get to talk to about this, Steve?”
“Where’s all this coming from?” Steve asked, expertly maneuvering around the situation. He ruffled Dustin’s curls, finally free of his hat, poking him in between the eyes to add an extra annoyance. “I’m the one that worries about you brats, not the other way around.” 
“We are friends, Steve. Aren’t friends supposed to watch over each other?” El insisted. 
Steve opened his mouth but quickly shut it before he said something stupid like they weren’t friends or it didn’t work that way. 
But wasn’t that the truth?
The kids were friends with each other, Nancy was Mike’s sister, Jonathan was Will’s brother, Hopper and Joyce were the parents. Where did Steve fit in that equation? ‘Babysitter’ had been an easy thing to use as a placeholder, but how much longer could he say that? What place was Steve supposed to be in for them as they got older? He wasn’t their brother, but he couldn’t see a world where he fit as one of their friends. 
“You’re wrong,” Dustin grumbled, pulling Steve out of his head and back into the moment. 
“Excuse me?” Steve said, more than a little shocked. As far as he knew, El was the only one who could read minds, and he hadn’t said a word. 
And yet, they were all glaring at him, unhappy with whatever they had seen on his face. 
“How many times do we have to say you’re in the party?” Mike muttered, a heavy red blush on his cheeks as he burrowed deeper into the pillows to avoid looking at anyone. 
“Dumbass,” Max added, just to even things back out. 
A hot heavy warmth spread through Steve’s chest and he bit down the stupid smile that was 
threatening to break onto his face. Whatever he was, it didn’t matter. They cared, and that was what mattered. 
“If I need to, I’ll talk with you guys,” Steve offered, knowing deep in his bones that he would never do such a thing. 
“Promise?” Lucas murmured.
“Promise,” Steve lied with a soft, honey sweet voice, shutting off the light and letting the hallway lamp and the glow of the pool illuminate the room in a gentle cool tone. “Now it’s really time for bed.”
“What about Story and Song?” El asked. 
Steve raised his brows in surprise, reminded with a jolt that despite looking just the same, El wasn’t like the other kids. 
Story and Song was a little tradition Steve had started for the nights that Hopper had to work late, an easy way to get her to go to bed in an unfamiliar house without the comforting presence of her dad. He would read one of the short stories from his big book of Disney stories, sing her a song, and she would sleep until Hopper came to pick her up. It was sweet, but none of the other kids would have ever dared to ask for such a childish thing. They would want to act more grown up, more mature, always in a rush to grow up. 
El had no such qualms. 
A familiar storybook was being floated into his lap, and none of them, not even the boys, were protesting. In the blink of an eye, they weren’t old anymore, just kids who wanted to hear a story they already knew to help them fall asleep. 
“Which one do you guys want?” Steve asked, ignoring the lump that was starting to grow in his throat, flipping through the Disney storybook and feeling the worn edges against his fingertips. 
“Lady and the Tramp?” Dustin offered, seeing that Steve was already thumbing through that page. He turned to the beginning and rolled his neck getting into the mood to read, using the light from the pool outside as his guide. 
“Lady was a happy little dog. She lived in a big house with Jim Dear and Darling.”
By the time Steve’s index finger glossed along the last sentences of the story, most of the kids had dropped off. Will had fallen asleep almost immediately, with Dustin and Lucas tripping after him before too long. El had made a valiant attempt to stay up, but she was gone by the time Lady met the other dogs at the pound. 
Steve had just two hold outs left.
“G’night guys,” He said quietly, slowly sliding off of the bed and putting the book on the floor next to his bed. Mike turned over and ignored him, but Max sat up with a little glare. 
“You said we would get a song too,” Max said sleepily, rubbing at her eyes with both palms. 
“That’s being cheap, Harrington.”
Cheap? Was she actually serious?  
“You two… want me… to sing you a lullaby?” Steve asked in complete disbelief. El, he understood. She had no frame of reference, no way of knowing that she might be a little bit too old for things like this, but Max? 
Mike? 
“We just don’t think you can actually sing,” Mike said, his words punctuated by a ridiculously big yawn. 
“You gotta close your eyes then, and just listen,” Steve sighed, unwilling to argue this late at night. 
“Deal,” Max said, snuggling down into the bed.
Steve let his eyes fall shut, taking a long deep breath as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, putting his back against the bed and conveniently facing away from the kids. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed to sing, it would just be easier not to have to see them while he did it. 
But what should he sing? 
It had to be something soft, something easy. Something anyone would want to hear. 
The memory hit him like a ton of bricks. 
“Who could hate this song?” 
Steve had the answer. 
“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me…”
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186 notes · View notes
italiansteebie · 1 year
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thinking about magic steve who doesn't know he has magic.
he just happens to be in the right place at the right time and never seems to get too terribly injured.
and it's weird, because he got chewed on by bats and was like, yeah okay, and eddie did too and ended up in the hospital for months. and it seemed like eddie was as good as dead until steve appeared and basically willed the guy back to life.
and yeah, there are some gaps
in his childhood.
weird memories of hospital stays and rude staff.
and the weird gray rooms he'd be locked in.
and the way he got major creeps when anyone mentioned hawkins lab.
but that didn't mean anything. not really.
until he and eleven were "hanging out" not babysitting because eleven was NOT a baby. but hop still wasn't comfortable leaving her alone. anyways. they were hanging out. and eleven wouldn't quit staring at him.
"super girl, i don't mean to be rude but what are looking at? is there something on my face?"
she smiled softly "no. you look. familiar."
"i am. i've known hop for awhile now..."
"no. you look. like. seven. brother. he- he left the lab when i was young."
and if that didn't click a lot of things into place. "seven." he whispered to himself. thinking about how when he was a kid, he'd had buzzed hair when he was around 10-11, and how his parents wanted him to grow it out around his neck, and so he did.
he didn't want to question them, they'd always seemed detached and he didn't want to make it worse. and then he ended up liking it. so he kept the long hair. and how was he going to notice something on the back of his head?
"why are you rubbing your head?"
he hadn't even realized he was doing it.
el peered at him, gently moving his fingers from where he was scratching.
and there it was in all its glory.
"007."
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supernaturalfreak · 1 year
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I know not which I crave more of:
More Hopper being a father figure for Steve
or
More Eddie, Steve, and El interaction because that shit’s adorable
do i have family issues? i’m realizing it’s quite possible. maybe.
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I’ve been seeing a lot of posts complaining about mom Steve and I have thoughts.
Like, I agree with a lot of it. Honestly, fictional parents confuse me sometimes (especially when people write them stricter than canon), even when they aren’t teenage boys. Like Hopper? Absolutely cares about his kids dating. El is going to be fighting to bring Mike over for the rest of her life. They’re going to be 20-something with Hopper still trying to stick them in separate rooms. Even once they get married, Hopper’s gonna grumble about them getting to share a bed. (He’ll be more careful not to overstep with Joyce’s boys, especially Jonathan since he’s older, but Will is definitely going to get a speech about being the man in the relationship and treating your girlfriend with respect (and then a later, much more confused speech about treating your boyfriend with respect)).
Joyce? That woman has been through way too much shit to give a shit. Jonathan wants Nancy to sleep over? Done. Will’s gay? Not a problem, here are some condoms. El’s sneaking Mike through the window so Hopper won’t see? Joyce walks by and casually says “the back door is unlocked, you might want to try that instead.”
Sorry, I got sidetracked. The point is Steve. If he was gonna be like anyone’s parents, it would be my parents (“you’re doing nerd stuff alone at home on a Friday night? Don’t you have friends? Go to a party!”). But barring that, he’s definitely the older brother, even if they call him mom.
He doesn’t care if they swear! El says “frick” or “gosh darn” in front of him one time because she heard it somewhere and he sits her down and teaches her proper swear words so she won’t get teased in school. He rents the kids r-rated movies and then lies to their parents faces when they have nightmares. He hears them say something anatomically impossible about sex and ends up giving them a sex talk. He chaperones their parties because he’s cooler than an adult but still old enough to make sure no one’s drinking themselves to death, and then ends up cleaning puke out of the shower. He kisses his co-chaperone at the party (you can pick your favorite Steve love interest) and all the freshmen squeal and stare and he has to go hide upstairs.
He’s in his pjs in bed and gets a frantic walkie-talkie call from Dustin that they have to go to the store RIGHT NOW because he wants to buy something and the sale ends at midnight. Steve says no a million times but gets bribed into it when Dustin promises to watch a basketball game with him in exchange for the ride. (My little sister did this to me. She wanted to go to TARGET to buy SHEETS. She was a weird child).
Steve’s the one they call when they need something but can’t go to their parents. He buys them booze and condoms and fake IDs, all of which come with lectures on being safe and a million threats on how he’ll kill them if they act stupid. He picks them up from parties when they’ve overdone it. He bails them out of jail (Dustin or El would absolutely get themselves arrested somehow) and doesn’t tell their parents but brings it up every chance he gets for the rest of forever.
Yeah, they call him mom. They’re trying to annoy him, because that’s what little siblings do. And Steve is definitely their big brother.
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ventya · 1 year
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Why does no one talk about the possibility of El having a teenage crush on Billy???
Like she wouldn’t even know it (bless her heart) but i think she’d do things for Billy and his attention that have other people raise an eyebrow hfjdkd
Billy wouldn’t notice it that much because (he’s gay?!!) he sees El as a little sister
But imagine others noticing it 😭 Steeeve definitely would, he would laugh at it thinking its cute. Nobody comment on how he stands closer to Billy than before though. Mike getting extremely pissed off at Billy bc El wants to spend so much time with him. Also feel like Steve would probably also address it and make El realize it by talking to her but he wouldn’t be patronizing or jealous (of teen?? Be for real) he would be understanding. He used to get crushes on older girls/boys all the time her age. El and Steve bonding>>
El gets over her crush just like Steve did but it doesn’t get awkward for her because of Steve and Billy did not treating her the way he always did. She’d laugh looking back at this time not really sure how she could have seen Billy any other way.
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audhd-nightwing · 2 years
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thinking about steve and max noticing that el never got to just. be a little girl? because max had to mature at a young age (neil & billy’s abuse, her moms drinking) and used being a tomboy as a defense mechanism / steve had to learn to take care of himself as a little kid because if he didn’t no one would.
so steve and max realizing this and doing everything in their power to help el experience the things she missed out on. they paint each other’s nails and read teen magazines and watch romcoms. steve takes them shopping and buys them both a bunch of clothes (el especially likes bright colors and patterns). they get nancy and robin to do el’s makeup (steve and max 1. don’t like stuff on their face and 2. know nothing about makeup) and she absolutely adores it, makes them teach her how to do it herself. while her hair grows out steve manages to find a couple of good quality wigs and helps her style them.
steve convinces hopper to let them paint el’s room pink and he agrees immediately after steve explains why. steve jonathan and nancy all love to spoil her and get her things so her room is filled with stuffed animals, posters, makeup, beauty products, etc.
steve lets el pick out whatever she wants (max too but she’s more chill about it, tries to hide how much she enjoys getting gifts and hanging around steve). as a gift for both girls, steve gets every wonder woman comic he can find (el cries and hugs him when he gives it to them, steve has probably never been happier).
and while max enjoys being able to be “girly” without feeling vulnerable, she still prefers her tomboy-ish energy (bi-gender she/he max!!!). so steve lends him hand-me-downs and buys him a new skateboard, tells him that he feels like that too some days, that it’s not gross or bad.
……idk how this turned into he/she max and steve bonding but here we are
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misspanicdead · 1 year
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They're sitting on the porch steps of Hopper's cabin, having been deemed out of commission to help with the half-assed clean up efforts going on inside.
Steve's head is throbbing, and El keeps periodically wiping little trickles of blood from under her nose. Dark circles are starting to form under her eyes, and steve knows it's a toss up on which one of them looks the most concerning right now. It's no wonder Joyce had taken one glance at them and promptly ushered them to the porch for fresh air and rest.
Beside him, El sniffles again, wiping her nose on her jacket sleeve before inching closer to Steve, resting her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.
"You feel like mama," she says, simple and easy. Like she's commenting on the color of the grass in the moonlight.
"Huh?" Maybe it's just the concussion talking, but Steve's pretty sure that none of those words collectively make any sense to him.
El pulls back slightly to look at him, eyes shining in the dim glow of the moonlight peeking through the trees.
"I saw mama, and she showed me what she was like before. Before papa hurt her," she says, steel in her voice. "She was brave and strong, and she tried to protect me." A bang comes from inside; Steve finches, El doesn't. "You feel like mama."
A huff of air is punched out of him, rattling something painfully in his nose.
Steve always wanted a family- kids- someone to look after and love that would love him back.
He wraps his arm around El, tucking her securely back against his side, giving her what little warmth and comfort he has to offer.
Steve could be a mom. He pretty much adopted a gaggle of kids tonight anyway, was prepared to die for them, and almost did.
Yeah, steve can be a mom, he thinks, resting his aching cheek against the top of El's head. The rainbow bandage on his chin snagging in her shaggy hair.
Afterall, there are worse things to be.
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findafight · 1 year
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Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia
Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.
All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.
Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.
Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.
Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.
"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."
Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"
"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."
Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.
Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.
He doesn't look at Eddie.
For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.
But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.
What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?
She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.
Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.
She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.
"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."
Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."
Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."
"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."
"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"
There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."
"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."
"okay..."
"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."
Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --
Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."
"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.
"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.
Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."
Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.
But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.
"oh, buddy."
Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"
"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"
"okay..."
"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."
Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.
Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.
Part 3
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In another universe
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estrellami-1 · 9 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
Just then Eddie walks in, raising his brows at the veritable mountain of food Steve and Eleven are putting together. “What’s all this?”
Steve smiles warmly at him. “Hey, Eds,” he says, which is certainly an experience. He’s spoken roughly twice with the guy—in his memory—but Steve’s three chapters—nay, three books ahead. Eddie is Frodo, about to embark on his first journey, and Steve is Bilbo, or even Gandalf: someone who’s done this all before, whose eyes carry the weight of worlds.
Speaking of, Steve’s eyes dim slightly the longer Eddie takes to answer, so he waves his fingers at Steve, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach when Steve’s smile brightens again. “So… what’s this?”
“Dinner,” Eleven answers. “We are making sandwiches.”
Eddie nods, because sure. Why not. “Okay.”
“How’s the song coming?” Steve asks, and the swoop returns, because not only is Steve asking, but he’s asking about Metallica, and Eddie’s gay, metal little heart can’t take it.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out, grinning. “It’s so good, oh my god. I mean, it’s gonna take a bit to learn, but it’s gonna be the most metal solo I’ve ever done.”
Steve’s smile dims again. Probably because he’s remembering what happened last time, i.e., Eddie’s death. Eddie pushes down the queasy feeling.
“Eddie,” Eleven says.
“Yeah?”
She turns to face him. Her eyes are more serious than any twelve-year-old’s eyes have any right to be. “You will be okay,” she says. Then, apropos of nothing, “And I can move things with my mind.”
Eddie blinks at that. Apparently his face is doing something, because Steve chimes in. “She can.”
“I can show you,” she volunteers.
“Anything but the utensils,” Steve says in a distracted voice, like this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation. Eddie wants to laugh hysterically, or maybe cry. Smoking a joint seems like the best third option, except all his stuff is at home. Fuck.
Then she does, lifts a whole cutting board—complete with tomatoes— and moves it over to him. He resists the impulse to snatch a piece and eat it. He doesn’t even like tomatoes, what the fuck, brain.
Steve’s watching with an amused little smile, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind. That legitimately wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen today, so Eddie does his best to stop thinking about it, because he doesn’t think he can deal with more than one real-life superpower right now.
“I need that back, El,” Steve murmurs, and she grins at him before zipping it back over, stopping it just before it hits his face. He nods, brows raised, impressed. “Nice control. Put it down and go wipe your nose, please.”
She does, Steve watching her as she goes, fond little grin on his face. “She’s a good kid.”
“She can move things with her mind.”
“Yeah. Honestly, that’s one of the easier things to get used to. Y’know one of the craziest things, to me?”
“Do I want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.
Steve just grins at him. “Jonathan Byers has this baseball bat that he sticks a bunch of nails in.”
Eddie blinks at him. “What the actual fuck.”
Steve nods. “I took it, sometime back during the first year. Actually,” he thinks about it, “what month are we in?”
“Um. October.”
Steve winces. “Great. October…”
“Um. Twenty-fourth.”
Steve hums and thinks. “In about… less than a week, actually, I think—I don’t really know, the concussion messed up my days—oh, hey!” He suddenly says excitedly, then raises his voice. “Rob!”
Robin pops her head in a moment later. “What’s up?”
He grins at her. “No concussions!”
She stares. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Holy shit!” She says. “No concussions!”
“No memory loss!”
“No hearing loss!”
“No eyesight problems!”
She freezes. “Steve. You were having vision issues?”
“Um. Not anymore?”
She groans. “Since when?”
“Um…” he thinks, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Billy, I think. At least that’s the first time I really noticed it.”
She sighs. “I’m going to murder you.”
“Are not.”
“In cold blood.”
“Are not.”
“Nancy’ll help.”
Steve considers this. “She might. She’d be good at it.”
They both pause for a moment, then Robin turns to leave. “I’m gonna go make sure Jon doesn’t give you a concussion this time.”
“Have him make the nail bat, too!” Steve calls as she leaves.
“What,” Eddie says desperately, “the fuck.”
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 ao3
There’s a different kind of disbelief on Steve’s face when Hopper walks in. His eyes flicker, and when he sucks in a sharp breath, Eddie realises that it’s some form of grief.
“You’re really back,” Steve says, and his voice is flat like it’s been hollowed out with shock; it must be one thing to hear the news secondhand compared to actually seeing it with his own eyes. “Where—where were you?”
The question is vulnerable in its simplicity.
Hopper sighs before smiling, bittersweet. “Hell,” he says, and there’s an odd kind of laugh underneath.
Eddie has the recurring feeling that he’s only operating on half a story, if even that. It’s strange, to know that everything of the past week was barely scratching the surface in the grand scheme of things.
Hopper fixes Eddie with a sudden, almost piercing kind of look—then it fades as he half-nods to himself. It gives Eddie the distinct impression that he’s somehow passed some kind of test without knowing he was taking one in the first place.
“Do me a favour, Munson, and get El some lunch?”
“Oh, uh.” Eddie blinks. “Yeah, I can—”
And then Hopper throws something to him. Eddie catches it, realises it’s his wallet, and has to suppress a nervous peal of laughter. Oh, if his fifteen year old self could see him now—getting the Chief of Police’s money. Voluntarily.
Eddie has to bite his tongue to stop himself from hysterically asking Hopper, “Are you sure?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve hide a smile behind his hand, like he can read his thoughts.
El nods at the candy bars on the table and says, with gravitas, “We will come back for dessert.”
Steve chuckles. “Yeah, obviously.”
Eddie pauses, subtly raises an eyebrow in question. Steve tilts his head down in a little nod.
“Okay,” Eddie says to El, “lead the way.”
He turns back reflexively just as the door is swinging shut, sees Hopper pulling up a chair by Steve’s bed. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but he can’t avoid hearing them.
“You gonna talk to me, Harrington?”
“It’s—it’s over now, right? Not much to say.”
Another sigh. “Come on, kid. Shit like this—it eats away at you.”
“… All right.”
-
They order the same: burger and fries which are halfway decent, at least. It’s when El pulls her tray closer that Eddie sees the number on her wrist.
Jesus.
He has to sit down quickly, feels a little unsteady, and El gives him a questioning look before picking up a fry.
He doesn’t ask; he doesn’t want to. She seems so… light, despite everything.
So he makes a show of trying to squeeze ketchup and mustard out of the plastic bottles, acting like they’re made of lead, until El snorts water through her nose.
“Did you just mix them together?” El says, eyeing the sauce on Eddie’s plate with distrust.
Eddie shrugs; it’s a childhood habit he hadn’t noticed he’d fallen back into. “Yup. Look.” He takes a fry and dips it in the orangey sauce, wields it like it’s a paintbrush. “I’m an artist.”
“You are very strange, Eddie Munson,” El says with unconcealed delight.
-
Eddie’s plan is just to linger in the corridor when they get back, not wanting to disturb Hopper and Steve if they’re still talking, but him and El end up meeting Hopper just as he’s leaving Steve’s room. El ducks under his arm and runs through the closing door, but Eddie hangs back.
“Uh, your…” Eddie says awkwardly, then hands the wallet back to Hopper. “Thanks.”
Hopper shrugs away the word, then opens up the wallet. “Sorry, I used to have—just gotta double check it’s still—” he mutters, half to himself.
And it’s not the money he’s checking, but a tiny photograph, tucked into one of the sleeves. Eddie just sees a glimpse: El with her hair much longer, and Hopper fuller in the face.
They look happy.
“Gotta reconvene with Joyce,” Hopper says. “She’ll be up as soon as she can. As long as,” he nods at Steve’s door, “he’s not too tired.”
Eddie nods, but he kind of gets the feeling that Steve wouldn’t ever be too tired to see either of them.
Hopper claps him on the shoulder, which is an overall surreal experience. “Hey. You did good, Munson.”
“You paid for lunch,” Eddie says obtusely.
But he knows at least part of what Hopper is really driving at. And, in truth, he thinks the praise is unwarranted.
Of course I’d be there for him.
After everything Steve has been through, anything less isn’t an option.
- “Hey, El?” Steve asks. There’s a tiny speck of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, and it makes Eddie smile whenever he glances his way.
He let El take the couch while he perches on the window sill—if he presses the side of his face to the glass, he can just about see the hospital entrance. There are two people a little distance away from the front doors, talking with their heads close together; he thinks it must be Hopper and Joyce.
El snaps a piece of chocolate in two. “Hmm?”
“Hopper, is he—um, is he okay?”
El catches Eddie’s eye, throws a piece of chocolate to him, then smirks when he fumbles the catch. “Yes, he is okay. Why?”
“I just thought he looked… tired,” Steve says carefully, which is probably a kind way of saying he looked like death warmed over.
El looks at Steve. “He is tired,” she says. “He’s sleeping a lot, but he’ll be okay. It’ll just take time.”
They’re parroted words, Eddie realises—most likely from Joyce Byers, if he had to guess.
Steve relaxes a little at her reply. “Good… that’s…” He scratches distractedly at his face, then feels the chocolate mark and flushes slightly.
Eddie looks away with another smile.
He frowns when he notices the view outside again: Joyce is using emphatic hand gestures until Hopper gently holds her by the shoulders, then he’s drawing her in and kissing the top of her head.
“Sleep is good,” El goes on. “I slept for a whole day after—after Henry, and... My body was… sore and it helped.”
“Sore?” Steve echoes with a thread of alarm. “El, God, if it—if it was hurting you, then you—you need to be careful, you shouldn’t have—”
“No,” El says, incredibly firm.
“El—”
“No,” El repeats, and the room seems to drop several degrees.
Eddie remains frozen in his seat, heart in his throat. However Steve’s sentence was going to end, it would’ve no doubt horrified him.
“You were hurt,” El says. “You weren’t careful.”
“El, that’s—I was trying to—”
“You weren’t careful with yourself,” El says, and maybe it’s the boldness of it that has Eddie holding his breath.
“That’s different,” Steve says, but he’s looking down at the floor.
“Friends don’t lie,” El returns, and it sounds like an oath.
Steve looks up at her—closes his eyes for a moment, then nods.
When El speaks again, her voice is quieter, softer, but still just as firm.
“I couldn’t let it happen, Steve. Everyone would miss you. It… it would have hurt too much.”
Eddie looks out of the window again, but the view is blurred. His eyes are burning.
“Come here,” Steve says hoarsely, and when Eddie turns back, they are holding each other’s hand tightly like they’ve made a silent, solemn promise.
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withacapitalp · 8 months
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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 18
Part One Link to ao3 Part 17. Part Nineteen
Thank you to @stevethehairington for being supportive af and the worlds best beta and @thefreakandthehair for encouraging everything I do y'all rock!!!
Step Eighteen: Get Some Supplies
Eddie had spent quite a lot of time watching Steve in the last few weeks. Observing the way Steve spoke, the way his smile curled slowly on his lips when he thought no one was watching, the way he noticed almost everything, but was somehow still so oblivious. Eddie saw it all. 
But by far the most interesting thing about Steve was the way he could switch at the drop of a hat. 
It was the most interesting, but also the most frightening. It was like the headlights on the van all over again- one second Steve had been joking around with him, saying things that made Eddie’s heart race and his chest sink heavy with guilt; and the next his entire face went blank, a hard protective look in his eyes and a painful tension setting his spine perfectly straight. 
All because of the sound of a car. 
Eddie had no way of knowing what happened to Steve to make him like this, but curiosity was eating at him again, completely pushing aside the fact that he had almost spilled the entire bet to Steve in a fit of regretful shame. 
Well, not completely pushing it aside. Eddie’s heart was still racing like a jackrabbit, but that was besides the point. 
“What’s wrong?” Eddie murmured. 
“Nothing,” Steve replied immediately, his voice so dead it killed something in Eddie too. Steve carefully pulled away from Eddie, leaving cold handprints where his warm palms had just been against Eddie’s skin. “Stay here.” 
Not a chance. Eddie knew whose car that was, and he knew that if Hargrove was here, then nothing good was about to come of it. He waited maybe two seconds before following Steve out of the kitchen, tracing his steps to the front door that was slightly ajar, slipping out the door and onto the porch-
And walking directly into Jim Hopper’s back. 
Hopper startled like he had been shot, and Eddie reared back on instinct, nearly hitting the door in his effort to put space between himself and the police chief. When Hopper saw who bumped into him, he practically growled, his eyebrows furrowing into one long fuzzy stripe as he gave Eddie a completely unwarranted death glare. 
Rude. And uncalled for. 
It wasn’t like they were friends, but Eddie and the chief usually had a pretty good rapport. Kind of like Tom and Jerry, if Tom was the chief of police in a podunk Indiana town, and Jerry was a trailer kid who dealt drugs on the side for grocery money. Usually Hopper regarded him with put upon fondness, not straight hostility, and the shift was… disconcerting to say the least. 
Luckily for Eddie, Hopper seemed to have a bigger target for his rage tonight. A target with a blue camaro and even worse anger issues. 
Steve had only been outside for maybe thirty seconds, but that thirty seconds was long enough for him to get in trouble. Hargrove had gotten out of his stupid car, leaving the engine idling as he swaggered up to Steve, a condescending smirk in his face as his eyes flashed dangerously. Max had also scrambled out of the car, and was on her way around the hood and over to Steve’s side. 
This wasn’t going to be good. 
But, before anything could go wrong, Eddie was reminded they weren’t alone. 
“Is there a problem here, Hargrove?!” Hopper barked just as Billy reached towards Steve, putting every ounce of authority he had into his growling tone, making even Eddie shudder. Eddie had only gotten that tone out of Hopper once or twice during his many run-ins with the law, but each time it scared the bejeezus out of him. 
“No sir,” Hargrove spat out, instantly taking a step away from Steve. It seemed that even his impervious armor of assholery could be penetrated by Hopper’s power. 
Hop started down the steps of the porch, and Eddie burst into action, scurrying after him and attempting to look at least a little bit intimidating as he came to Steve’s aid. 
Mission probably not accomplished, but Eddie hoped Steve at least appreciated the gesture. Hargrove was fucking scary, and if he could beat Steve’s face in, Eddie was pretty sure that Billy might actually kill him if Eddie decided to take a swing. 
“Max, go inside,” Steve said softly as they came over, a gentle hand pushing against her arm and urging her towards the safety of the house. She pushed back, giving Steve a silent glower. Little Red was stubborn, almost as stubborn as Steve, and it was obvious she didn’t want to go anywhere without knowing nothing bad would happen to her babysitter. 
It was admirable, but it was also really, really, stupid. If anything happened, Steve would one hundred percent focus on protecting her first, which might get him hurt. Eddie wasn’t great in a fight, but he knew how to find people’s weak spots, and anyone with eyes knew that Steve’s weak spots were the people he loved. 
“Please,” Steve whispered, taking his eyes off of Billy to give her a silent look. 
Another switch. The guard dog was gone, a sweet chocolate lab in its place. Soft and careful not to hurt as he nudged his pup away from the mountain lion that wanted to devour her whole. 
Max sighed shortly, stopping to press a quick hug to Steve’s side and an even quicker flick of her middle finger towards Billy before she ran over to the porch. She sat herself down on the bottom step, her fiery red hair standing out in the dark as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees, watching them all like a hawk waiting to take flight. 
It was a compromise, and enough to keep her out of the fight that still seemed to be coming. 
“I’ll be back to get her at 8 sharp tomorrow, Harrington. She better be out here waiting,” Hargrove stated, bristling with barely concealed fury as Hopper and Eddie both flanked Steve. 
“I’ll drop Max off sometime in the afternoon, Billy,” Steve replied coolly, leaning casually backward as he crossed his arms. He was a picture of calm, a complete deviation from the rest of them. “If she’s gonna be later than 3, I’ll give you a call. Mkay?”  
Steve finished his sentence with a bitchy little smile, and Eddie bit his tongue, hating the way that his pants were starting to feel tight. It should not have been so much of a turn on to see Steve act like an ass, but when he was using his powers for good, there was something incredibly alluring about watching the former King tear someone down without so much as a swing of his fist. 
Hargrove’s nostrils were flared, and he looked like he swallowed an entire bag of lemons. He opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, but Hopper wasn’t having any of it. 
“Anything else?” The man asked rhetorically. Before Billy could even shake his head, Hopper continued, putting his hands on his hips, “Good. Then scram before I bring you in on trespassing charges.” 
Hargrove deflated like a balloon, and Eddie barely resisted the urge to scoff. Of course Billy was the same as any other bully. It always went that way- they were all cocky and confident when they were with someone they thought they could beat, but if someone with actual power over them showed up, they instantly showed their belly. 
Eddie had no doubt that if Steve was out here alone, words would fly at the very least, and Steve might’ve even ended up with some new bruises. But the prospect of spending Christmas Eve in a cell seemed to be enough to get Billy Hargrove to fuck right off and leave them alone. 
Good riddance. 
“I could’ve handled that,” Steve complained the second Billy’s car disappeared around the corner. The annoyed face he was making at Hopper was ridiculously cute, and honestly, unfair. Eddie probably could have handled just the scrunched up nose, or the adorable little pout, but together they were a deadly combination that left him wanting to clutch his chest and beg for mercy. 
God, he was down bad for this boy. 
“Mhm,” Hopper hummed, raising a brow. 
“I could have!” Steve insisted. He turned to Eddie expectantly, waiting to hear his DM back him up. 
“You definitely could have,” Eddie reassured, despite not being entirely sure that Steve actually would have gotten out of that on his own, “but as much fun as bringing you to the hospital tonight sounds…”
The unsaid words spoke louder than Eddie had intended, and he even managed to get Hopper to bark out a short unexpected laugh. Eddie broke into a grin and shot Hop a smirk, the smile fading as Hopper seemed to realize exactly who had made him laugh and quickly went back to his angry scowling. 
What was his problem? 
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Babydoll,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes, dragging Eddie’s attention back over to him. Behind them Hopper seemed to choke on air, but Steve didn’t seem to notice, too focused on his next mission. 
“I thought you couldn’t come tonight?” Steve asked Max as he walked towards where she was sitting. 
“Mom and Neil decided to go to a resort for the holiday, so it was just me and Billy alone for Christmas.” Max sighed as she stood, casually stretching her arms high above her head. “I’d rather step in front of a bus then deal with that so I gave him five bucks to drive me here.” 
Her movements and her tone were nonchalant, uncaring and almost lazy, but Eddie wasn’t fooled. Max was chewing on the inside of her lip, and she was avoiding eye contact like the plague. Most people might’ve missed it, but Eddie was good at looking. 
And Steve was too. 
“Sorry about your mom,” Steve murmured as he pulled her in for a hug. Max let him hold her for all of four seconds before pulling away roughly, tossing one braid over her shoulder and sticking her nose in the air. 
“I don’t care,” Max declared, despite all of them knowing how very much she cared. 
“Well El is going to be thrilled. She’s been stuck with just the boys all night,” Steve offered, giving Max an out from the big feelings talk. 
“I’m sure she was fine,” Max muttered, kicking at the ground, “not like anyone was missing me.” 
Eddie had spent the better part of his life being unwanted. From his parents, to his teachers, to basically the whole world. Not only was Eddie the local freak, he was also a barely closeted gay man in a small Indiana town. He had gotten good at being okay with being left behind or abandoned.  
But seeing that part of himself in the little girl in front of him hurt in a way he didn’t even think to expect.
Luckily, Steve seemed to have this handled. 
“Lucas was missing you,” Steve said teasingly, crushing her against his side as he dragged them both up the stairs. “I was too. Now that you’re here I can finally start karaoke. I’m thinking of starting with "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”
“Fuck off Steve, that song sucks and you know it,” Max complained, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Steve held her tighter, turning back to give Eddie a ‘watch this’ look before taking a comically long breath in.
“I WANT A HIPPOPOTAMUS FOR CHRISTMAS,” Steve crowed at the top of his lungs, startling the silent frigid air of the night with the force of his voice, “ONLY A HIPPOPOTAMUS WILL DO!”
“Oh my god, you suck!” Max shouted, finally escaping his grasp and clapping her hands over her ears. Her tone was angry, but Eddie could see the huge beaming grin that was overtaking her face. Once again the unstoppable force of Steve Harrington had managed to smooth things over. 
“I can see me now on Christmas morning creeping down the stair!” Steve continued without a care, giggling like a kid as he did. “Oh, what joy and what surprise! When I open up my eyes! To see a hippo hero standing there!”
Now Max was laughing too, holding her stomach as she tripped towards the front door to try and run from Steve’s singing. He held up his hands in mock trumpet form, vocalizing the instrumental parts of the song as he followed her in, leaving the front door wide open. 
And leaving Hopper and Eddie all alone outside. 
The silence materialized out of nowhere, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. As much as Eddie wanted to just run into the house after Steve and never even look at Hopper again, he held back. Yes, this was awkward, but Eddie could deal with awkward. He was good at awkward. He regularly stood on lunch tables for fun. He could do this. He would have them back to their normal bantering rivalry before midnight.
“Hiya chief! So how’s-”
“Are you selling Steve drugs?” Hopper demanded, cutting him mid-sentence and rounding on Eddie with fury in his eyes. 
Eddie, unable to help himself, did the absolute worst thing he could have in response. 
He laughed. 
He couldn't help it. The question was just that ridiculous. He had sold to Steve in the past, even jacked up his price with the ‘rich douchebag’ tax, but it was only ever weed. A joint here and there barely counted as drugs in Eddie’s book. Steve wasn’t even one of his regulars. And since joining Hellfire, Steve hadn’t even mentioned Eddie’s side hustle. 
“Chief, even if I was, would you really expect me to tell you?” Eddie snickered, still in shock that he was being asked this by Jim Hopper of all people. Was he worried that Steve was going to give Jane drugs? It couldn’t be that, there was no way anyone would ever think Steve would do that. 
So Hopper was just… weirdly overprotective over Steve. He almost sounded like a dad. 
“Cut the crap, Munson,” Hopper growled, taking a menacing step forward. “I’m serious. I don’t know what game you’re playing here-”
“Dungeons and Dragons,” Eddie supplied, still chuckling at how insane this conversation was. 
“-but!” Hopper continued, putting emphasis on the word and on ignoring Eddie, “nothing better happen to him, or so help me god-”
“Hop!”
Hopper was cut short by the sound of Joyce Byers. She and Steve were standing in the open doorway, twin disappointed looks on both of their faces as they took in the scene in front of them. Steve hung his head low, softly muttering to himself as he plodded down the steps and grabbed Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back towards the house. 
“Handle this?” Steve begged as they passed her. 
Joyce, who was in the process of lighting a cigarette, gave him one short nod, eyes already locked on her target. Eddie didn’t really know Mrs. Byers all that well, but he had dealt with enough irate mothers to know when to stay out of a woman’s way. 
“You promised you wouldn’t act so crazy-” Eddie heard her hiss to Hopper from behind their backs. 
“I am concerned! Am I not allowed to be concerned?!” Hopper exploded, and Steve slammed the door before they could hear anymore, pressing his back against it and groaning as he hid his face in his hands. 
“Why does everyone think I’m doing drugs?” Steve muttered. It was definitely a rhetorical question, but Eddie couldn’t help being a bit of a jackass. 
“I mean it’s not like I’ve never sold to you before, Sweetheart,” He pointed out, sticking both hands deep in his pockets and letting the smirk on his face grow three times as big as Steve groaned even louder. Eddie wasn’t exactly happy to be threatened by the chief of police, but it was nice to know that there was someone who was looking out for Steve. 
Hop was no Wayne, but every person needed a grumpy old man to watch over them in Eddie’s humble opinion, and if Hop was Steve’s, then Eddie could handle a few words thrown his way. 
Steve slowly slid down the door as he grumbled and mumbled, ending up cross legged on the floor, staring up at Eddie with the most pitiful pout known to man. 
If it was anyone else, Eddie would have kept the joke going, teased them to oblivion until they were both laughing until their stomachs hurt. But Eddie was a weak, weak man, and Steve’s eyes had somehow grown inhumanely wide and sad, and there was only so much he could take. 
“Come on, let’s go check on our completely clean, absolutely drug-free cookies,” Eddie offered, sticking a hand out to Steve to help him up, “just to prove to Hopper that I’m not your hookup.” 
Steve heaved the world’s biggest sigh in response, but took Eddie’s hand anyway. As he stood, rather than letting go, he intertwined their fingers, pulling Eddie into the kitchen and squeezing their palms together once before he went for his oven mitts. 
“By the way, I didn’t get to thank you,” Steve said randomly as he slowly lifted the tray filled with cookies out of the oven. 
“Thank me for what?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand towards the fresh treats, his mouth watering at the delicious aroma filling the air. 
“Hey! Too hot, you’ll burn yourself,” Steve said, jostling the tray to one side as he smacked Eddie’s fingers away before they could get singed. He placed the tray down far from Eddie and began to transfer the cookies onto a cooling rack. 
“I meant thank you for having my back out there… you didn’t have to do that,” Steve explained, his voice getting uncharacteristically shy as he continued to stare down at the cookies and avoid looking at Eddie in any way. His shoulders were curled inwards, and his bottom lip was caught firmly between his teeth. 
Eddie could have lightened things back up, made a joke about Steve’s innate ability to get into trouble, or pulled some bullshit insult about Billy’s intelligence to make them both smile and shake their heads, but he didn’t. There was something about the hesitancy sitting in Steve’s body, the way he was almost holding his breath, waiting to see why Eddie had gone after him when Steve had told him to stay behind. 
Like he couldn’t understand why someone would want to protect him instead of the other way around. 
“I didn’t want you getting hurt by him again,” Eddie stated, feeling his cheeks get stupidly warm as he did. It wasn’t like some big declaration of feelings or love, but the way the words laid his soul bare felt just a shade too close for comfort. 
“I would’ve been fine,” Steve protested, wrapping two cookies in a paper towel and handing them over to Eddie to test taste, shooting him a wry little grin as he did. “Billy won’t touch me now anyway. Not after last time. Max made sure of that.” 
“There shouldn’t have been a first time, and there won’t be a second,” Eddie said firmly, ignoring whatever weird joke Steve was making about Billy’s thirteen year old little sister being able to stop her eighteen year old brother. “Hargrove might be able to kill me with a single punch, but I’ll die fighting for your honor, Stevie.” 
“Well, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need anyone else dying on my watch,” Steve said softly, his smile disappearing as his eyes faded somewhere distant and sad. 
In an instant they were back in no man’s land, unmoored and untethered to the reality around them. Steve wasn’t at a party with him anymore, just lost in some far away place that Eddie couldn’t reach. Somewhere painful, and empty looking, and all Eddie wanted to do was pull him back and protect him from whatever was trying to steal his happiness. He wanted Steve to let him in, unhook the heavy cape that was set on his shoulders and unburden himself from whatever guilt was holding him hostage. 
Whatever it was, Eddie would help. He could make this easier, at least a little bit. All Steve had to do was tell him. All Eddie had to do was ask what was wrong. 
The time for being cautious was past them, and the time for being afraid Steve might run was over too. They had to be close enough for Eddie to at least know something about whatever was torturing Steve so badly. 
And Eddie had to care enough about Steve to put him over his stupid little crush. 
So despite the fact that his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest, and the dread was making his fingers ache, Eddie took a deep breath in and forced himself to speak. 
“Hey Sweetheart?” 
But unfortunately, the universe had other plans. 
“Steve!”
“What!” Steve yelled back to Mike, breaking away from Eddie and turning just in time to see all of the kids pile into the doorway like a pack of rabid animals. 
“Now that Max is here, can we do White Elephant?” Lucas pressed, impatiently drumming his fingers on the wall.
“Please?” Will added, quickly shooting a look over to his friend before turning back to Steve with barely hidden glee. 
“Fine,” Steve sighed, dragging out the word as the kids cheered and ran out of the room.  
The wild tornado of children had passed as quickly as they came, but whatever moment the two of them had been having had long since passed. Sharing Steve was gone, and Babysitter Steve had come back in full force. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing that would take precedence over his kids at least. 
It was admirable, but Eddie kind of hated it. Actually, more than hate. Eddie despised the fact that Steve was no longer with him, lost in taking care of the rest of the world once more. It was a good trait, something to respect, but it meant that Eddie had lost his chance to dig past Steve’s walls a bit more, and maybe finally get some answers. 
“Oh wait, Eddie what were you going to ask me?” Steve said, halting in his pursuit of the kids and turning to face Eddie. 
It was sweet that he cared, but it was pointless. This wasn’t the time anymore. 
But…
The supplies he had in the lunchbox in his van might just be the perfect way to get Steve to open up a bit. 
“I was going to ask if you maybe wanted to make some not clean kinda full of drugs cookies for us to enjoy later?” Eddie asked, mentally apologizing to Hopper. Steve quickly looked around to make sure no one else was listening, his eyes wide as a secretive smile already started to pull at his lips.  
“Ask me again once the kids are asleep,” Steve whispered in his ear, intertwining their fingers. Eddie steadfastly ignored the full body shudder rolling through his body, already calculating how much of a profit loss he was going to have to go through to get Steve to finally talk. 
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