[ it probably is for the best that they steve can't actually hear eddie, because the argument would probably go on. and on. and then on some more. steve is full of too much nervous energy, too much stress and anxiety built up back behind the wall of being okay and keeping everyone else moving. simultaneously, steve would probably want to just punch eddie. shove him up against a wall and make him explain - because with all this stuff with venca, the gates, all of it. should he be risking this?
yes. or- whether or not he should, he's going to. he is.
two taps, he can walk. ] Good, good. Okay. [ two more taps, though steve feels a bit like...not that there is hesitation, but that there's something more. the gates, a gate. god - part of steve wants to ask him to just go to the nearest fissure straight through town, but he doesn't know if that's actually going to work. he knows the gates, themselves, are decemated - but if they're going to get through, they should do it at the spots they know a gate had been. he decides to go with the tried and true, ruling out lovers lake, the house, and then-
fuck. is he really going to make eddie go back to his trailer? steve bites his lip, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to walk - back and forth, back and forth. ] The highway. [ he says the same moment he thinks it. ] Fred- Fred Benson. He died out on the highway- um. You remember the wreck last year? That killed that one student? Can you meet me there? [ they'd talked about fred's death when they were figuring out how to kill vecna. but it's also felt like years since then, years since the scariest thing they were dealing with was the curse itself.
steve comes to a stop, arms still crossed over his chest, waiting for an answer. ]
[ well, steve better get ready for a boatload of disappointment because eddie won't be able to tell him much else other than the mostly convincing fact that yes, he's alive! but how? how? thinking of that alone is enough to drive eddie down a spiral of questions with no answers and no matter how convincing steve might demand to be, shoves and walls and all, once they do have a chance to chit-chat about this, he'll be able to tell him diddly-squat. nothing that won't make him sound absolutely insane and the only saving grace about that was that all of this was certifiably insane. he wouldn't believe it himself if he wasn't in the middle of it himself.
talk about 'see it to believe it'.
he can walk, albeit it sucks, but there's not enough taps in the world to relay that part across but all of this sucks ass.
where steve contemplates the gates, eddie follows in natural progression. his foot taps an anxious rhythm and he thinks the trailer would be the obvious choice. eyes slip shut and hands run through his hair to cradle his head and its difficult not to feel the coward again for not wanting to face it now.
what if the bats are there? that place was covered by those vines, too, and boarded up, and — and chockfull of very recent and very raw recollection that made his heart race thinking about it and look at brave eddie munson, running again, always running —
his head snaps up. Highway. Fred. yeah, yeah, he remembers. yet another one he's blamed for. he takes a breath. he can do this. he doesn't need to go back there. he can go to another place. it's not terribly far, not when you measure it in steps to safety. he nearly knocks the light over, shoving his hand back for two taps. ] I'm gonna have to, won't I, Harrington?
[ the worst part is that steve pretty much knows that will be the case. actual answers never tend to happen unless one of the kids or around, or at the very least nancy. steve is not the information type, and when it comes to a conversation with him and eddie, he doubts any great questions will be answered. still, the need to get his hands on eddie is still there - some kind of proof that steve hasn't fully lost his mind. that this is actually happening. that eddie could be a living, breathing, person still.
he doesn't know the state eddie is in, but unless he's been magically healed by some weird bat poison venom, it's going to be bad. steve doesn't like the odds that eddie is in any kind of state to be walking miles anywhere, but they don't really have other options.
two taps, he can get there. steve nods again, because okay. you know. this might just work. ] I have my stuff upstairs. I'll get everything together and will meet you there. Okay? [ he waits for confirmation before he continues, the feeling of having something to do feeling good, actually good. like maybe this could work. ]
But hey, Munson- listen- [ because he has to catch him before he leaves. and not being able to actually see him makes steve feel a little like he's back to yelling at nothing. he sets his hands on his hips, this time, feeling oddly...he doesn't know. protective? ] Take your time. I'm assuming you're still beat to shit, and I don't need you passing out before you even get there. Go slow, stay away from the vines, and if I don't see you at the gate I'm going to start retracing steps back to my place. [ does steve need to be putt on such a tone? probably not. but the last time when he tried to be suggesting, it hadn't stuck. now? now he just needs it to be said. ] And jesus christ, man. Be careful this time.
[ you know, eddie might just need the same sort of solid proof as steve does that this isn't some sort of sick joke. that this isn't some pre-post death hallucination before everything fades into nothing. he tries not to think of the fact that everything already had faded into nothingness, an endless glassy void in the midst of which he stood. so yeah, a nice old proof of life might do them both some good. something other than an ethereal conversation that even sounds like it shouldn't be real, just some echoing ghost of a memory instead.
eddie nods along, emphatic, before it quickly turns to a roll of his eyes. ] It's the tone, man. I wonder who Henderson gets it from! [ despite that, there's little heat in the retort that falls on no ears at all. he taps the light, twice, curt little answers. ] Yeah, yeah. You be careful, big boy.
[ and eddie goes to lift himself back up. it feels about as expected, as he's winded by the time he's upright. or as close to upright as he can get, with hands braced on his knees and head spinning. the problem with taking breaks when every single part of you has been running on nothing but adrenaline and some spiteful need to keep moving, is that when the lethargy sets in, anything after hurts all that much more. his sides strain, reminders of the bites that had torn through fabric and skin. it looked like his jackets had managed to keep away anything that would make him bleed out to death (again). he hadn't really considered which part exactly it was that did him in before. which one of the bites? or the tails?
he grits his teeth, and there's that metallic tang along his tongue. he runs his hands over and under his shirt, and much to his surprise, they mostly come away dry. nothing miraculously healed, no. but coagulated enough that he could keep moving. he could walk, in the most lose term of the word and he isn't even sure how long he'd walked before.
mind's capable of crazy things when the crazy is all around you, he supposed. it's a little difficult to move away from the light, the spike of disquiet rolling in the pit of his belly. okay. okay. just get to the highway. that's halfway between here and the trailer park. give or take. he can do this, and — and steve will be on the other side.
its a slow and stiff journey, between trying to stay conscious and not tripping into some creepy wine that always looked perpetually moist. but when he turns on the highway, the small two lane road leading to what he can only hope is his salvation, he gawks. ] What the hell?
[ that's not one small portal, anymore. that thing is a chasm. stretching far beyond the very epicenter, even as eddie almost dutifully tracks to the point in the road that served as the crack in the windshield. if a windshield is interdimensional. ] Don't tell me this is as bad as it looks. [ muttered, under breath and suddenly all the more away of just how goddamn tired he is. he doesn't have it in him to be frightened, either, too focused on using the last bits of his energy to find the very point on the road that matters. he peers over the edge, takes a deep breath, and plunges the dull end of the makeshift spear through, to try and look through to the other side. here's to hoping that one perfectly hairsprayed head of hair is looking right back. ]
[ it can’t be, can it? because vecna plays with people’s minds, tugs on memories, makes you see things that aren’t really there. max had described it as some of her worst memories, mixed in with good ones. but they were memories, weren’t they? things that had happened once, come back to haunt their victims. this- this wasn’t a memory. a wish, maybe. a hope. but not a memory. that had to be enough, right? had to be proof enough? steve is going to take it, because he doesn’t know if he can just let this sit. doesn’t know that even if he did think this was a trap, which part of him still does, he could let it go.
eddie might be alive. that’s good enough for him.
steve wonders if he’s seeing things, because there’s no way he can get tone out of blinking lights. no way, right? but those two taps happen and he thinks he hears something sharp and argumentative in it, and it has the same feeling as if steve can see eddie rolling his eyes. and it’s probably a good thing they can’t see each other, because something in it makes steve smile. ]
Good.
[ and steve can’t help but hesitate, to hold his eyes on the lantern, just in case. he doesn’t even know what eddie would say, if anything at all. yes and no answers aren’t exactly something to be waiting for, but he does anyway. one second, then two, and then he's already wasting too much time.
how it works out as perfectly as it does, there's no way of knowing. something between how slow eddie has to move in and the fact that steve knows where his shit is, has done this before, and then has his car to get him the rest of the way there. the fact he's done this what...twice now? going into a third time? gives him a kind of experience he never really wanted to have, but now is thankful for, as he speeds along the dark roads of hawkins through the middle of the night, trying to keep himself from taking the turns too fast, hand tapping on the steering wheel.
come on come on come on.
it's hard to keep his mind from spinning, to focus on the task at hand. there aren't kids in his back seat this time, there isn't nancy to his right, plans that have already been made. part of him recognizes that he's rushing into this, how dangerous this could be for all of them, but he can't let eddie stay there any longer. honestly, every minute it takes him is too long.
how did this even happen? what even happened? eddie's not going to have the answers, most likely, but steve can't help but wonder. did he miss something? was eddie still breathing? did they leave him down there, alone, among the vines, while he was still alive? steve's a bit sick at the thought, presses the back of his hand against his mouth as he speeds down a straightaway, avoiding the cracks in the road and scars left behind.
hawkins is a disaster zone, but steve's prepared. steve has his eyes out. steve doesn't have time to slow down. by the time he arrives and screeches to a stop, steve gets to work - pulls out his supplies, his pack, his axe. he'd grabbed a rope before he left and moves to tie it around the closest tree, frustrated at how slowly he is moving now, but if he's getting them both back through this. steve keeps moving, though, because he has something to do. he knows that there is a next step, and a next step after that, and steve just keeps moving.
moments later, steve is standing at the edge of the chasm. it's a lot like the others, which have dissected all of hawkins into four pieces, but this one steve knows is a portal. knows is a gate. fred munson died right here, murdered by vecna, and now all of hawkins is in shambles. because they failed, because they didn't stop it. but at the very least he can do this.
he takes a breath says aloud- ] You better be there, Munson. [ before he drops down and climbs inside, bringing the rope along with him. it's, thankfully, not up into another ceiling, so physics aren't an issue, but steve brings the rope as a precaution all the same.
just one more gate. one more portal. one more trip into the upside down to bring eddie munson back. ]
[ eddie had once told steve that the only reason he went into the upside down the first time was because wheeler and buckley followed in without a moment's hesitation; he'd told him that he would have never gone to save his ass in normal circumstances. but normal got thrown out the window with chrissy, and fred and that kid in the lake. normal had never been an option and while a part of eddie is still shocked at how quickly steve was to leap at coming to get him from the place that was the epitome of nightmare fuel, a different part of him thought that maybe, maybe if the roles were reversed, he'd be doing the same, now. because none of this was normal. because somehow that felt more right than any other previously considered option.
there's something serendipitous about how the timing works out. eddie's navigation of the cracked landscape aligns near directly with steve's a pivot of perspective — up to down, or down to up — and as eddie is approaching the edge of the portal on unsteady footing, is the exact moment steve had decided to jump on in.
it shocks eddie, a sharp yell escaping just as he takes a step back, foot catching the edge of a root as he scrambles backwards and lands — painfully, thank you — right on his ass. ] Oh holy shit — !
[ this isn't exactly the best way to make a first impression since coming back, ass over teakettle and looking like he's crawled out of...well, here. its embarrassing, is what it is, and maybe he'd care a little bit more about that, but the relief bubbles over in manic laughter as he scrambles back up, teeters dangerously to one side, stepping forward as if to really affirm that steve is standing right in front of him. eyes wide, and words tumble out, breathless — ] Shit, man, you really came. Never thought I'd be saying this but you're a sight for sore eyes, Harrington. [ says the dead man walking. ]
[ the feeling is the same - the sudden drop of a roller coaster, the missed step on the curb. steve's stomach flips, gravity goes the wrong way, and then something about the momentum propels him through and he's scrambling on his hands and knees to keep himself up on the other side. the upside down. again. he hates that he's getting used to this - to that chill in the air, to the fact it never feels like he really gets his footing. everything down here is wrong, off, and with all that dust in the air and the threat of bats in the distance.
thunder rumbles in the distant echo of a strike of lightning and steve looks up, the sharp yell turning all his nerves on end, just in time to see eddie fall ass backwards back to the ground. for a brief moment, steve just sort of stares - eddie, eddie freaking munson - who looks like absolute shit, who looks like he's been crawling through the upside down for days, who looks alive, breathing, moving.
they move in some kind of weird synchrony, back up to their feet about at the same time. up on their feet, and towards each other. except that where there is a kind of slight hesitancy where eddie is concerned, steve can't help but close the distance as the words tumble out of eddie. sight for sore eyes he says, like he's not the one steve left dead, bleeding out, still on the ground of the shadow of the trailer park. ]
How the hell... [ steve starts, voice low. how the hell is this possible.
this is the part where things kind of stop mattering, because eddie could have said literally anything, and steve still would have been there. still would have immediately had his arms around him, immediately pulling him in for a tight hug. and yeah, sure, it might be the first time the two of them have hugged. it might even be their last. but it doesn't matter, because steve doesn't know how else to translate the immense amount of shock, relief, and whatever else that threatens to drown him. eddie might have bubbled into manic laughter, but steve is apparently a hugger, as he tightens his hold on him for just a brief moment. ]
Of course I freaking came. Did you really think I wouldn't? [ steve says, trying to go for indignant but unable to really get there, as he pulls away from the hug - his hands going to eddie's shoulders, like he has to hold them up.
and for a second, and then probably another, steve just sort of looks out him. lets out a breath. ]
[ no, you could never quite find your footing, here. never quite shake the feeling of being off-kilter, never quite feeling like you're the right side up. it isn't that you get used to it as much as it becomes easier to ignore, but the two aren't entirely the same thing. you stop wanting to hurl sometime between falling in and your first bat encounter, if you're lucky. maybe it's good that they aren't truly used to it? maybe it's important to not get used to hopping into this place every school year.
thunder rumbles, lightning threatens to strike and it is always that ominous scarlet and every time it had come, eddie couldn't help but flinch. couldn't help but look to the horizon, expecting a swarm to be scattered across. expecting to run (again) or to die (again).
except — he doesn't look this time. he doesn't look this time and he doesn't flinch and everything feels like it moves in slow motion, attention on - and only on - someone he half expected to not be real. the ache is momentarily dulled by the sheer disbelief, by the adrenaline that spikes through him as steve is the one that's suddenly right in front of him without hesitation. always without hesitation and what a frustrating trait this man has —
eddie feels himself open his mouth, take in a breath to retort something — and he really wouldn't be able to even say what — when harrington's pulling him in and it's that second where eddie's brain finally clicks in with real, holy fucking shit this was real. it takes a breath of hesitation through a suddenly tight throat before his arms are around harrington, fingers splayed across a shoulder while the others tighten on the back of steve's shirt.
the hold tightens and there's a small grunt of protest, some pain shooting through but he doesn't care even then, not really and who would have thought that eddie the freak munson would be nearly clinging to steve harrington for all he's worth?
in the end, he's glad steve's hands stay on his shoulders when they move away. he's insanely aware, now, that this is probably the only thing keeping him upright. his laugh is weak. ] I thought — maybe I was just making all that shit up, with the light, with you, with everything but —
This feels real, right? [ uncertain, hopeful? his own hands are on steve's elbow and tap along it for restless emphasis, warm against cold fingertips, and the other hand still hovers somewhere by the ribs like a tether. an anchor. he can be embarrassed about it later. he shakes his head, and there's a frown twisting his expression. ] I don't think I'm ready for this to be one bad trip, man.
[ it does feel a bit ridiculously cinematic, doesn't it? even steve, who doesn't really watch all those super dramatic epics, steve, who can sit through top gun and who might have been awake for like. at least half of the first star wars movie. and steve, who somehow even in spite of all of this, works at a video store and can, in some far away disconnected part of his mind, recognize at least that much.
because the slowed time works in both ways. steve, who feels like he's moving through water, through fog, who snaps his attention directly to eddie and eddie is there. eddie is breathing. eddie is alive. eddie munson, eddie freaking munson, and steve finds he can't really even think. they're both moving, both scrambling to their feet, and then they're there. he has his arms around him, and he's solid and he's breathing and he's-
god damn. he's alive. and he knows he's holding on a little too tightly, knows that it probably hurts, with how eddie's probably still injured. probably still in pieces. but steve does it all the same, and then pulls away with only marginal guilt, his eyes scanning eddie's face first, then down his front. ]
Same, yeah- I didn't. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or what, but- [ eddie's hands are on steve in turn, like a second tether, two points of contact. steve, in turn, just sort of curls his fists into the fabric of eddie's army green vest. tries to remind himself to breathe. they're not out of the woods quite yet, and steve still has to figure out if eddie is even in a state to drag himself back through the portal to hawkins, but for now he just kind of. well, he laughs - just once - a sort of huff of a breath, holding back what is starting to feel like a burning behind his eyes.
( because of course he's thinking of dustin. of course he's think of robin. of how crumpled the two of them have been. how dustin hasn't done much besides cry, and mutter why, eddie, why. how steve had been forced to tear dustin away from eddie's body. and now? now. holy shit. )
there is too much going on behind steve's ribcage to unpack right now, so instead of doing any of that, steve just lets a hand wander from eddie's shoulder to the back of his neck. just for another anchoring point. ]
It's really good to see you, dude. [ a pause, a small smile, and then steve's face is shuddering back into action. into plans. into get this done and get out. his eyes are back on eddie's clothes, on the blood and gunk and whatever else the upside down has left on him. ] Are you going to be able to crawl back through? Or do we need to patch you up first?
[ he'll take the cinematics, he'll be the goddamned cliche because that means he's actually returned. that he actually did something he's only ever played through at the game table, something so ridiculous it felt right to compare it to a fantasy game .
except one thing — this was real. the thought repeats itself over and over again and you know what they say, hear it enough times and you'll actually start to believe it. and steve isn't the only one who's mind goes to henderson, who eddie thought would be the last face he'd ever see and is inexplicably glad that it isn't dustin that came back to fetch him. that it wasn't dustin on that end of the light because he isn't sure he can face the kid now. no, no, he'd rather save the grand reveal when he is absolutely sure he isn't going to keel over from the exhaustion alone.
awareness returns to his state in waves, to the rhythm of a racing heartbeat before the aches and pains pulse with the punishing beat of simply being alive. eddie's eyes follow steve's gaze down, down to the front of his shirt and the sorry condition he's in, and he thinks of saying something coy like like what you see but he'll pocket that for later. steve's hand on the back of his neck is grounding. his own grip travels from elbow to shoulder and holds there, half-way for support as the grin that slides across his face is shit-eating and only mostly sane. ] Yeah. You too. [ crazy. insane. absurd.]
I don't know about you, Harrington, but I really rather not spend another second up in this shitshow. [ it doesn't exactly answer steve's question. will he be able to? god, he doesn't know but he sure hopes so. he huffs an exhale, shaking his head, and entirely ignoring the fact that he would be absolutely fine if steve didn't let go of him right now. because letting go risked the idea of him just poofing out into smoke, like some ghost of christmases past. who the hell knew what sort of tricks vecna would have up his sleeve, or what the extents of it would be. maybe the real test would be getting out, finally taking a big gulping breath of that fresh, fresh hawkins air. ] We can — we can crawl out, you can slap a bandaid on whatever pound of flesh they didn't take — you weren't kidding about that, by the way — and we can just call it a shit day.
[ speaking of which — there's a question he is afraid to ask. he'd much rather keep up the false bravado that let's face it, even he wasn't buying. but he forces his eyes back to steve's, brows furrowing before nodding towards the much-larger portal than he'd seen before. ] Hey — did the others — [ deep breath. why is he getting choked up now? ] — did everyone else make it out okay?
[ there's something about this that steve knows he isn't really processing. something about how the relief he'd felt and the adrenaline he's still feeling and how it mixes in his chest. because part of him does think he needs to back off, that this kind of gripping onto eddie is a little much, a little clingy. because that's all there is to this, isn't it? eddie got roped up in something that had nothing to do with him, got blamed for even more because it's always easy to blame the outsider, to create a monster out of the freak. steve was there, himself, there at the beginning. questioning eddie's innocence. but even then it had more to do with the fact he couldn't have thought any of this could come back than anything real. and now? well. maybe this might balance the scales a little bit. make up for that guilt.
because that is definitely the only reason all this is complicated. totally. and whatever it is that is going on in his chest when eddie grins back at him ( yeah, you too ) is definitely not butterflies and totally just. part of all that complication.
and no, eddie's comment doesn't answer anything at all, really, and it doesn't help steve feel any better about this. eddie looks bad, but he is also standing. he isn't just fully passing out in steve's arms. he did walk, all the way here, which steve should probably take into account a bit more. ]
Okay- and yeah, man. I know. Believe me. But okay, it's actually a bit easier not having to climb up through the ceiling, so it shouldn't strain all that too much. My car's right on the other side, too, and we can go back to my place and- [ steve is rambling, giving voice to a plan he'd gone over and over in his drive over here. thoughts he'd tried to pace out. what would nancy do and all that. it's not that he's nervous about it, either, because the plan is as solid as they can get at this point. what steve doesn't realize is that by rambling, he's really just stalling, really just trying to let time pass before he knows he has to let go of eddie and climb back through.
which might be why steve is more than ready to jump on to whatever other question eddie asks, even before he realizes what exactly it is he's asking. it's a moment later that steve sees it, the furrow in eddie's brows. the deep breath. he definitely chokes up, and steve just squeezes where he's still holding the back of his neck. ]
Yeah. [ he says it without thinking, smiles without thinking, because steve can't handle another broken expression. even if it's not the complete truth (he doesn't even know what to call max right now), it's part of the truth, and that...that can be okay for right now, right? ] Yeah, they did. And once we get you out of here, it'll be everyone. [ steve doesn't know why he feels the need to be reassuring right now, but he needs to. has to. his grip on the back of eddie's neck is tight, hopefully grounding, and he leans his head down just a bit to make sure he is holding eddie's eye contact when he asks: ] Okay?
[ there's a metric shittone that isn't being processed right now. the adrenaline is felt two-fold, reflected in the guy who wasn't supposed to be standing here at all. its shocking how well acquainted he's gotten to the passing flow of an adrenaline rush throughout the course of a handful of long days, between fighting actual monsters and being accused of being the proverbial village witch for some overzealous assholes to come hunting.
then came crashing in the rest of this entourage, steve harrington in tow. steve, who was the biggest surprise of the group. steve, who talked about a girl with superpowers like it was as casual as sunday news. steve, who in the end, believed his innocence and who henderson idolized and there must have been a reason, eddie had thought.
and here's the damn reason, in the flesh. proof in the pudding and damn it if dustin wasn't right about so many things (he'll never tell him that, though). and if eddie is clingy — because this is definitely clingy, right? because he should back off too, do a solid and chipper thanks and move on — he'll blame it on the adrenaline that's finally crashing, a tremor to his hands. he'll blame it on the blood loss, and process the rest later. process how, despite everything that he just fucking went through, everything they all went through, there's a lightness in his chest that still makes him want to laugh and cry both, sending pinpricks along the spine.
steve's talking, and he gets most of that. it's a solid, simple plan. there really isn't too many ways they could screw this one up. the exit's right in front of them and for once, it isn't guarded by something with too many limbs and teeth and tails. but, he can also feel steve talking, distracting, where his hands still hold on. ] Yeah. Yep. Way easier. Not sure I'd be able to do entry level gymnastics right now, that's for sure.
[ and then — harrington holds his eyes and eddie just about believes whatever the guy will tell him next, with the sort of conviction it holds. his attention flits along the whole of steve's expression — from the smile (it almost reaches his eyes) to the hold and the reassurance works, and eddie squeezes steve once, at the junction between his shoulder and neck, before clearing his throat, wiping at his nose and stepping back. and if its a little reluctant, if his hand slides down the length of an arm, it's definitely because he's just wobbly. that's all there is to it.
he nods, hair in his eyes. fights the urge to ask more questions. later, those come later. ] Okay. That's — that's good. Yeah, man. Okay. [ a peer at the gate, before looking back at steve with a grimace. hesitant to go in first. hesitant to consider the possibility of going in at different times, a spike of anxiety over any of them staying here longer than they needed to, eyes briefly scanning the hoizon. he takes another deep breath, bracing himself. god, he feels like shit. ] Alright, come on then. Down the rabbit hole we go, Alice.
[ and all of that can be a later thing. a later problem. because right now, whether or not eddie says anything about it, steve is getting the feeling of that loss of adrenaline. steve can almost see the way the energy is leaving eddie, like how relief floods through him and the sheer effort to keep upright is slowly crumbling away. eddie's hands are trembling, trembling, and steve's hands tighten on him just as if he's reconfirming that he's here. that he's got him. because he does - and that is something steve knows. that is something steve, without hesitation or question, knows for a fact. ]
Yeah, yeah, no there's no gymnastics, no rope climbing. It should be easy.
[ as easy it can be, at least. it's just climbing through a hole in the ground, avoiding any bats, any eyes. they don't even know where vecna is anymore, but steve can't let those thoughts carrying him away. first, eddie needs to get through. they both need to get through. it will be easy, it has to be. steve is not going to lose eddie sliding into home. not when they're so close. so it's close. all of this.
and steve will keep his hands on eddie and physically drag him through if need be.
( and if there is something there, when their eyes meet, when eddie squeezes his neck in return, and god. the feeling that fills him, now, is something hard to put to words. )
eddie steps away from him, pulls away, and steve holds still through it. definitely does not follow his hand down his arm. steve's hands come out, ready to catch him if that wobbling turns to something worse. that's good he says, and steve just keeps watching. watches him turn to the gate, watches him grimace. after another second, steve is looking to the gate too, the same gate he just slipped through, and steve just. nods. ]
Yeah, yeah, c'mon. [ and whether eddie wants it or not, steve's hand is now on eddie's elbow - like he's going to lead him through, like he's going to help him take each step. he walks them both over to the edge and picks up the rope he'd brought through and sets it in eddie's hands. catches his eyes again. ] Don't let go of this, either. If something goes wrong I can pull you through.
[ definitely not stalling. nope. not at all. he'll wait for a nod or a confirmation or something else before he will give one last nod.
[ stepping away was — difficult. but so was moving in general, and that would serve as a good enough excuse. with the distance back between them, the cold of this place seeped back around him. it felt bone deep and maybe that was actually just him and all the overexertion after a goddamned resurrection (or whatever the hell that was) catching up in a dead sprint and it would be absolutely mortifying to pass out now.
it was frustrating, how stabilizing harrington was. not just in the tactile reassurances that eddie never thought he needed all that much. eddie, who was good at being alone but never wanting to admit that he rather not be; the outsider, the metalhead freak, the fantasy nerd. but here he was, not alone and what a fucking relief. who would have thought the line between fantasy and reality was such a blur?
thoughts hazy, and it takes effort to refocus them now. but they were. so. close.
then steve's hand is back at his elbow. back, like an anchor calling him to something real and the rope falls into eddie's hands, rough against dirt-covered palms. he stares at it, for a moment before harrington's doing that eye thing again and eddie is nodding along before he can reconsider.
but — as they get closer and closer to getting out, he catches steve's wrist, pulling on rope until he's hanging on to the other end. ] Since you're so prepared, Harrington — we're not taking any chances, right? [ if you squint, there's an attempted pinch at a dig, though it is neither particularly biting nor clever.
maybe someone else would have said nothing's going to go wrong, or we got this or whatever other optimistic bullshit that would do wonders in a place like this. but this is eddie munson, self-proclaimed cynic, we're talking about here.
and maybe steve was going to tie them off anyway but eddie is not taking any more chances either. and maybe they're wasting precious time, standing on the very edge of the rolling gate steve just emerged from moments before, but it doesn't take much time at all for eddie to loop the rope around harrington's forearm, tying it off into a slipknot. a glance back up at him from under his curling bangs. ] We should, um — [ taking a moment to slip the other end of the rope around his own arm, loop around twice. he doesn't hide the wince, doesn't think to, as some bite is aggravated by the friction. ] — go through together though. Right? [ please. ]
[ he moves to crouch beside the gate, inadvertently tugging steve down after him. a hand lifts, hovers at the edge. there's a second of consideration, taking this place in. the horizon, the rolling thunder in the distance and the strikes of scarlet lighting. for a second, he squints, thinks he catches the silhouettes of things that makes his heart jump in his throat, and it seems to dredge up enough adrenaline to break the weird reverie of this moment. shock his system into action one last time and — ] Okay, yeah nope, let's go. Let's go, [ who cares if it was his imagination. who cares if they were so far away they probably wouldn't have even noticed. who cares whether or not those things were even there. it's enough to give him the short burst, to slide his hand up to steve's back and push him forward, into the portal —
— and when he emerges on the other side, it's with a gasp. hands grasp at pavement, scrape painfully on dull rocks and only now does he actually believe this worked. ] Holy fucking shit!
[ steve doesn't focus too much on the chill of the air. doesn't focus too much on how there is always, always that unsteady feeling of what this place is. he doesn't trust it, doesn't trust the ground they're standing on or the air they're breathing and definitely not the dust that still flitters around the air around them. eddie steps away from him, pulls away, and it feels a bit like steve's whole chest tenses. like without the touch, without that grounding contact, eddie could just slip away again.
but he swallows back that fear - they are so close. steps away. and he knows that it's always this home stretch where everything goes wrong, where this could go bad, and maybe that's part of the reason steve is so quick to grab eddie's elbow. so quick to get a hand back on him, even if he could mask it by the steps. by handing him the rope, explaining the next steps. it's the only way that steve can keep himself moving, really - focusing on the next step, on the way out, on the plan.
eddie is still responding, still following, so steve thinks that maybe this could work. that maybe they could make it. that he's being ridiculous, being this nervous about everything when they're so freaking close. that is - until eddie's hand is there, around steve's wrist, catching him before he even tries to step away further. we're not taking any chances, right? steve looks down at where eddie's hand is around his wrist, if only because for some reason it seems easier to look at that first, as if he could see something else there, before his eyes go to his eyes. his brow furrows, as if confused, at the question. right? ] No, we're not. [ steve says simply, turning his hand in eddie's grip to grab eddie's own wrist in turn. to hold him, to squeeze it, as if eddie needs the reassurance. ] Don't be a hero. Not again. [ and maybe, maybe steve's a little more genuine and a little more intense than eddie's attempt at a dig would have suggested. steve sequeezes eddie's wrist, once, as if to reaffirm it. don't be cute. not again.
that's when eddie ties the rope around them both, around steve's arm and then his own. there is something off about the movement, about the somewhat desperate way that eddie barely even looks at him through the curtain of his bangs. we should go through together. steve watches eddie wince when he ties his own bit of the rope, watches the obvious pain. curiosity flickers across his face, because steve's not exactly sure why eddie would feel the need to go this far, to hurt himself just for the confirmation that he won't be left behind. steve could think of four or five other ways to reaffirm that, two or three that wouldn't have left behind such pain, but steve decides not to comment on it. instead, he hears the unspoken please and just. nods. ] Yeah- together.
[ eddie moves to crouch down by the gate, and steve gets pulled down along with him. he goes easily enough, moves to sit along the edge, to situate his pack and his materials and to make sure eddie isn't having second thoughts. thunder rolls off in the distant, just loud enough to catch steve's attention, to see the shadows and the lightning and what every the hell else is out there. it shoots a sort of tension through him, right at the same time eddie says yeah nope, let's go, right at the same time eddie's hand is on steve's back. without thinking, steve's arm shoots out and grabs at the front of eddie's shirt, to get a fistful of the fabric and to all but drag eddie munson along with him.
and then they're through, back into the other side, and steve - without really realizing it - uses the moment to pull eddie through and even after, it sends him a little further into the pavement, the rocks. steve, also gasping for a moment or so just to settle the curled feeling in his gut, looks up. around. to make sure nothing followed, to make sure nothing is there. eddie's voice rings out again, holy fucking shit, and something bubbles up from steve's stomach. bubbles up, and then escapes as a kind of laugh. not manic, nothing like eddie's, but a bark of relief. they're out. it worked. eddie - safe back in hawkins.
steve gets to his feet, pulls off the rope, the adrenaline still pumping through him. still pushing him forward. he gets up, wipes off his knees, and then manages the step or two over to stand in front of eddie and hold out a hand. an offer to help eddie to his feet, too. steve is smiling, when eddie looks up at him. he can't help it. ]
[ don't be a hero would have been funny enough on it own, coming from steve harrington. not again strikes a small cord of disbelief and sends inexplicable butterflies rustling around in his chest and eddie was glad to have busied his hands then, thumb pressed to steve's pulse. he must have mumbled a — ] Nah, no way, man. Me? [ some sardonic, autopilot response, when all he could think of, while tying the rope around, was the helplessness he felt when chrissy was killed. he was powerless to do anything then, other than stand by, frozen in fear. and when feeling finally returned to his legs, he just ran. and ran, and ran. maybe a small part of him, deep down and unresolved, is a little proud that there was the one time he didn't. and they were okay, steve had said, everyone was okay and sure there was some addendum in there somewhere, a but sitting between the lines that would be later addressed. and it isn't that he thinks a single rope would be their salvation, or that he would be doing something particularly heroic enough right this very instant or that this was a particularly brave thing to do at all.
but it was action regardless, something that helped him not feel useless, juxtaposed against how quickly steve had come down to help him. how steve brought supplies, a pack ready with who knows what else. how steve kept talking, plan in hand. so even if it was just some stupid buddy system, eddie felt like at least he was doing something. the pain was secondary — impossible to avoid when every part of you ached anyway.
but steve goes along with it, going down beside him and then everything that happens next feels like it both takes seconds and hours. steve's hand is bunching the fabric of eddie's shirt when they go through, together. eddie's stomach lurches, the world turns upside down and topside up and maybe he yells out and it all spins and it takes a moment of looking up at the star-speckled sky to slowly find his bearing. somewhere beside him he hears a single laugh, rope taut enough to tell him he wasn't alone, that harrington didn't get left behind.] Jesus H. Christ.
[ and eddie munson, lying on the cold asphalt in the middle of a ruined highway, doesn't disappear into a puff of smoke, contrary to his own expectations. eddie munson, somehow, had managed to cheat death. his chest heaves, his heartbeat a loud ringing in his ears, racing hummingbird quick in the birdcage of his ribs.
steve comes into focus above him, upside down and smiling and eddie answers with a grin of his own, suddenly elated. his hand reaches out to grasp steve's offer. real. this was all real and solid still and no one was disappearing in any smoke or illusion or bats and bad memories.
it takes some effort to leverage himself back up. there's a part in his brain — some remnant of self-preservation — that understands he's tapped out. there comes that dip in senses, that white-out lightness in his head as the tinnitus reaches a peak, as he lifts himself back up and only in large part thanks to steve, grip back on the forearm and holding tight, does he not go teetering face first into the asphalt. his grin, a touch lopsided, stays. there's an unsteady laugh spilling back out.
his other hand slides up to rest back on the junction between shoulder and neck; there's a short squeeze. comfort in the returned proximity, gratitude and a curious sort of fondness he never expected to have. but they did fight — and win, and lose — to a very real, very unimaginable evil and maybe that allowed for him to be all...this about it. whatever this was. he just cheated death and steve fucking harrington, former king of hawkins high, just saved his ass from being stuck in that stupid place forever. what a crazy, crazy world this was.
and, obviously, he's just holding on so he doesn't fall over. of course. ] Never thought I'd actually be happy to hear that, Harrington.
[ he finally chances a better look around them, eyes landing on harrington's beamer, ostensibly parked not too far away. he points at it with a wobbly finger and pretends to ignore the tremble returning to his hands. ] Now, I'm — going to go sit. In there. Before I eat shit right front you. [ that cool with you? is intoned between the lines, he hopes. not that he doubts the ability of your strong beautiful arms to carry his unconscious self over to your car but...there were limits, man. ]
[ in another time, in another place, with all the world to argue and bicker and spend cutting the legs out from all of eddie munson's theatrics, steve would have argued with him. nah, no way his ass. and maybe for even a brief moment, the urge to just shake eddie is there, to pull away and grab his face and shake him, because he died. he died to give them all time. to run out there and pull the bats away. eddie could try and argue with him as much as he wanted, but there's enough of steve- no, there's more than enough of steve- who would fight right back. because he told him not to be cute, he told him not to, and yet still it was steve who had to drag dustin away from eddie's body.
no, it doesn't matter. not right now. because steve could fix this- steve could fix all of this, if they just go through. it's part of why he lets eddie tie the rope, why he doesn't point out that he doesn't plan to let go of eddie even as they flip through. why, when they make it to the other side and the world rights itself back up again, he just. lets them sit there, eddie with his back to the asphault and his eyes to the sky, and steve, on his hands and knees. steve, who is looking at eddie, who suddenly feels like he takes the first full breath of air since those two taps at his lamp.
he gives himself those couple of moments to get back to his feet. he's unsteady, more exhausted than he's ever felt in his entire life, but they're not home yet. he pushes up with a kind of determination that feels way too familiar, and moves to stand above eddie. watches him for a moment, just a breath, because the image is almost too similar to when they'd first made it back. to eddie, part of the plan, back to the mattress. eddie, who looked breathless, but alive, ready to join them on this hell of a ride they've already taken too many times.
( steve tries not to think about this, too, feels a bit like relief. that this moment, seeing him, seeing eddie with that lopsided grin and those brown eyes and him, looking up at him. taking his hand. )
steve is very aware that he does a lot of the lifting, very aware that eddie is just nearly spent. his own mind is already onto the next step of all this - getting eddie into his car, taking him back to his house, getting him cleaned up - that he barely notices the hand back on his shoulder. barely notices the squeeze. instead, it feels more like they've righted something that had felt off, like having eddie's hand on his shoulder and getting his own hand around to eddie's side is where it should have been this whole time. ] Yeah, well, it's better than the alternative.
[ there isn't enough energy in him to even think about the town's reaction to eddie. not enough to really worry about what this can all mean, or how eddie might feel. steve's energy and worry and focus is entirely on eddie, who is not in the upside down. eddie, who is breathing, and warm, and may or may not be swaying. who may or may not just collapse right in front of him. ] Yes. [ he says, glancing up like he's actually checking to make sure his car is there before he's looking back at eddie. ] Yes, okay, right. Here- [ and whether or not eddie tries to pull away, it doesn't really matter, because steve's hands are moving, his whole body is turning, and before eddie probably even knows it, steve's got one of eddie's arms around his own shoulders and his arm around eddie's waist.
they're going to make it back together, one way or another, and steve's got enough on eddie that he can force this if he needs to. even if he doesn't think he will. he walks them both to the car, gets eddie situated in the passenger side seat, equipped with water and snacks and a towel and honestly, steve may be coming across a little manic, a little rushed, but he's trying. and whether or not eddie wants the stuff, it gets set in his lap as steve sits him inside and closes the door and runs around, throwing himself into the drivers seat.
home. next step. he can do this. he turns on the car and puts it in drive, speeding off down the highway. ]
[ there’s an odd little moment where things quiet. where the night around them is silent, when all eddie can hear is the sound of their breathing and for a moment somehow that’s more than enough and the air feels cool on his flushed skin and it strikes him, how this cool isn’t the same coldness of the upside down. how the ground doesn’t inspire vertigo with each step. even if it’s a little difficult to tell right now. and how the air feels cold and crisp and alive, instead of the stagnant ash and stale petrichor of the upside down.
steve seems to operate on a beat much faster, much quicker than eddie is able to be on, because he barely even comprehends the fluid twist harrington makes before eddie’s arm is thrown around a shoulder and a hand is wound around his ribcage. there’s an exhaled oof as meanwhile, his brain plays catchup, some stray thought of well, hewas co-captain of the swim team as explanation and where the hell did that come from?
but in the end, he’s silently grateful for this, for how steve moves and leaves no room for argument, because he isn’t sure he’d be walking to the car. he might have been crawling, were he on his own. maybe he’d have crawled into a bush and slept for five days, even if the thought of sleep inspires a weird sort of inexplicable nausea.
grateful for harrington’s incessant need to keep moving and doing and while wheeler might have been the strategist of the group, the master planner with just enough crazy tenacity to make eddie buy into whatever she said, steve was — well, shit. steve was the one running around and making sure everyone was okay, wasn’t he? who dived in first, who thanked eddie for saving his ass when he did it all himself, who ran around the kids like a border collie trying to keep them all in line. who came to get him. who told eddie not to be the hero and in all honesty, munson thought that mantle was solidly and firmly sewn upon steve’s capable shoulders anyway. it still was, and would remain there.
eddie drops into the passengers seat with very little ceremony and more like a bag of bones. he is about to say something — when a pile of items is dumped onto his lap and his grunt of surprise is somewhat indignant and the car door is slamming shut before eddie can rattle off a retort.
within the span of the steps it takes harrington to slide into the drivers seat, eddie turns his gaze down to actually look at the items on his lap. towel, water, snacks. huh. that was…kind of endearing actually. however, with the manic energy of being fucking alive, being out of a hellscape and the realities of being back in a town where he is wanted for murders not yet having caught up, the look he gives steve when he slides into the driver’s seat is deadpan, allowing his old self to seep back in. ] Harrington, stop, you spoil me.
[ — and then steve takes off with a rumble of the engine and while eddie is notoriously insane in his driving, the lurch knocks him back into his seat, and his hand blindly feeling for the door handle to grip onto. ] Yep-okay —!
[ but it isn’t long until he leans his head back, watching the silhouettes of dark trees race by. he doesn’t even care where they’re going. doesn’t ask, or doesn’t think to because finally, finally, after all the senses have been fired up from tension, from the fear and the stress and the pain, it feels downright euphoric to just be sitting. his hands fold over the hem of his shirt, curl tentatively over his side. the fabric is torn up and gray and mottled with blood stains. there’s a grimace across his face, before one hand goes to his neck. it sports similar bruising to what steve had been walking around with days before, and eddie’s eyes, subconsciously, fall to look at steve’s neck in turn.
quietly: ] Hey, ah, Harrington?
Thanks. For coming to get me. [ he shakes his head, and his smile is wobbly, much like the single laugh spilling from a raspy throat. ] Would have been real embarrassing to, you know, die twice.
[ steve barely even notices the night air, now that they're free from the thick, unsteady feeling of the upside down. and that probably has more to do with just how much time has passed, how he'd been in hawkins for long enough to get his footing again, before he dove back under. before he immediately turned back. he hates this idea that going to the upside down is turning into something that just happens, that he can drive out to a highway in the middle of the night to make a quick trip, but...
but eddie was alive. is alive. and if it meant saving him over and over again, steve wouldn't hesitate. wouldn't even have to think about it.
it doesn't matter, though, because it's over. it's finally over. all of them are out of there, for good, and eddie is whole. here. even if steve is kind of carrying him on their way to the car. he barely even feels the weight of it, and that is saying something. steve, who hasn't slept in days. steve, who feels wrung out and exhausted and piecemeal even now. steve, who - if needed - would probably carry eddie all the way home to his house. it makes him feel a bit invincible, the way the feeling of success floods through him. so much so that he has to remind himself they're not safe yet.
eddie lands into the passenger seat with a thud, and if steve wasn't so focused on just getting on the road he might have worried over even that. instead, steve is all but diving into his own driver's seat. is turning on the car and letting whatever music he'd had in there blast through the speakers. eddie says you spoil me and for whatever reason, that just makes steve laugh - something exhausted, something a little too bubbly, something that might just be thinking this worked. ]
Shut up, Munson. [ for whatever reason, it's said with a smile. a glance over into the passenger seat as steve all but tears off across the highway. he should be worried about a cop, worried about curfews and other people out on the road, but he feels too...what? good? relieved? ecstatic? he keeps his eyes on the road and avoids any of the cracks left behind, two hands on the steering wheel. after a short time he does manage to slow to something more manageable, but it's hardly the speed limit.
the music must shift just at the right time, must turn to a slower song, because steve is just able to make out the quiet ah, harrington?. it draws steve's eyes over, catch eddie looking back at him.
( his chest does not tighten, his heart does not skip a beat. ) ]
Huh? [ he says, eloquently. because in all reality, steve doesn't quite get what eddie is getting at. what he's trying to say. the confused look is probably familiar to the other boy enough by now, but still steve can't help but look over at him again, brow furrowed.
thanks for coming to get me he says, and steve just...doesn't get it. why eddie thinks he wouldn't have. it very nearly makes steve angry, a flash of something protective and a little dark, but he shakes it off. turns his eyes back to the road. tries not to think of a world where he couldn't have had this chance, where instead of eddie breathing, alive, here, it had been the alternative.
steve swallows. ] I mean, yeah, man. Of course. [ a beat, and then against steve's best efforts to keep his eyes on the road, he looks over at eddie a third time. ] Is that what happened? Did you really...you know. Die?
[ there’s levity returning, with the portal getting further away in the rearview. further away and more and more as confirmation of their success. finally over. there’s still plenty of cause for concern - the fissure wasn’t so big before, the cracks spindling across the road as harrington navigates around the worst of them, wheel only catching on the inevitable stray bumps until that, too, clears out a bit more. eddie wants to ask, but a part of him is still scared to.
maybe — maybe he can just sit in the bliss of ignorance for a little bit more, before he goes in for the questions. maybe he’s earned that much. maybe he can later ask steve why he thought he was talking to max before, why the town looks turned upside down (did they lose?), was he still wanted for murder and why steve looks like hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. the guy looked haggard too, bags under the eyes.
eddie watches steve’s profile for a moment longer, catching the motion of him looking away from the road to him and back to the road. catches the defined confusion. seems to remember that he’s staring, which might be bordering on rude so he looks away.
of course, steve says, like it’s the easiest, most obvious thing in the world and eddie can’t help but wonder how everything about him seemed to come so simply. maybe that aligned with the reputation of being the unseated king. maybe it aligned with henderson’s worship, which Eddie would loathe to admit he now understood. it surprised eddie to no small degree that he too was tugged into that orbit, with how natural falling back into this seemed to feel.
at the question, eddie snorts, turning back to look at the road ahead, at the rushing trees that open up into town. the song on the radio is slow and lulling and not at all good. he twists a ring on his finger, unable to keep too still. ] Yeah, yeah I think so. [ it’s hard to answer — and maybe steve can forgive that much, given that eddie is ostensibly back from what most people don’t return from. ] I just — I remember it being cold. And Henderson, you know, getting to me? And then — kind of like nothing, man. Nothing for a really long time, until I heard some girl’s voice? [ fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes close briefly and he shakes his head. is it bad that he just needs a beer? ] I don’t think I recognized it, but she just said no. Just nope! [ a wave of his hand, some fingerwag for emphasis.] And I was suddenly back there again, and I guess alive because if I was anything else this shit wouldn’t be stinging so much, you know?
So — so I guess I was something, at least, but I know I was gone. [ he laughs, and it strains enough to teeter off into a groan. ] I know that sounds insane. Or well, [ he considers it a moment, tipping a crooked little smile. ] More insane than everything else.
[ he clears his throat, rubs both hands across his face, before going for the water bottle. ] But, you know, enough about me — what the hell happened to Hawkins? Why does it look like the shit we were trying stop actually happened?
[ steve doesn't think much about the state of hawkins as they speed through it, seeing the breaks and splits in the road as obstacles to get through rather than things to update eddie on. because honestly? honestly, the town is in tatters, panic and mass evacuations, missing people, bodies. steve supposes he'll need to tell him about the earthquakes, the high school, the chaos. but right now, it doesn't feel like it matters - none of it matters. his entire world feels limited to this single car, and a destination laid out in front of him.
( he doesn't know what it means, how okay with that concept he is. how part of him wishes they could just stay here forever - in this car, surrounded by shadowed trees, his headlights the only thing pushing them forward. eddie, who is definitely staring at him, who is living and breathing and looking at him, and steve... he's kind of okay with it. with this. with whatever this is. )
steve feels a bit sick, when eddie says yeah i think so. feels his hands tighten around the steering wheel. there's really no reason that it should hurt this much, hearing eddie's side of this, dustin getting to him, feeling nothing at all. he hates even thinking about it, which makes it that much easier to focus on the next bit of information, to feel his face scrunch up even as his eyes are on the road. ]
No? That's all she said? Just no? [ steve almost asks who, but eddie just said he didn't know. and because that doesn't make any sense. like - it is crazy, right? crazier than normal? though steve might not have a great handle on what that's supposed to even mean, these days, with a crater fully quartering off the entire town.
and maybe he should be taking that into account. how this is crazy, yes, but everything is always crazy. this isn't the first time that steve's entire world view has been turned on its head, and it probably would be the last. if anything, it's the sound of eddie's groan that worries him, how the laugh can barely hang on. it tightens something inside his ribs, something painful and protective, but steve just keeps driving. keeps wishing he could either go faster, or that he lived closer.
which of course means eddie asks him exactly what steve wasn't even thinking about. about the shell around them, the chaos he and the others have been trying to work through for the last day or so. steve sighs, keeps his eyes on the road. ]
They're calling it an earthquake, but something must have gone wrong. The gates opened and cut through town - four segments, just like we were afraid of. I don't know if it actually happened, because he's not...you know. Here? Vecna, I mean. But something happened.
[ there was definitely some unspoken comfort in — this; this vague in-between car ride that feels like the calm after the storm. there's no sun rays cutting through the clouds, no, but there's a liminal sort of peace. eddie imagines it will end when they arrive to wherever steve is driving to with a lead foot, and the spell will be broken.
in a selfish way, eddie would be fine with this lasting longer than it will, and he really doesn't feel like thinking on the why.
eddie shrugs, a hand thrown up, some defeated gesture in the face of steve's reaction. in the meantime, the water bottle is chugged down. who knew one could get so thirsty walking around for hours half dead in an alternate dimension? the plastic crunches under his hands, and it almost makes him frown. like the sound is too harsh for the lull of this spell, like that might snap it too. ] Yep, that's all! Just no. I — I can't even describe the place I was in, dude. [ if nothing was a place, it would be where he was. it wasn't biblical in any stretch. no stairway to heaven or highway to hell. it had been a little less than death. he doesn't go into trying to describe it further, though. it wouldn't make sense, and he'd just sound more and more like a madman. which was saying something and it isn't that he thinks that steve fully disbelieves him but — look, the guy already looked stressed as it was and some part of eddie rallies against that, concern crawling up to sit somewhere in the back of his mind, chased closely by some want to prevent any more. they've been through enough, he'd reason, were he to reflect on it. that steve had a tendency to carry the weight of responsibility on those shoulders of his and maybe there's guilt somewhere in there at the prospect of adding more. so what he supplies is dismissive. they wouldn't get their answers like this anyway. ] Look, someone just revivified my ass and I have no idea why, or how. Maybe — maybe I just got lucky, somehow, I don't know.
[ what steve tells him about the town is disconcerting. horrible, really and eddie listens with some dread creeping up to sit in the hollow of his suddenly dry throat. months back, if someone were to ask, eddie would say he cared about hawkins just about as much as hawkins cared about him. and while he held no illusion that it wouldn't care if eddie munson, accused murderer, never returned from the unknowable death, this wasn't a fate he ever wished upon it. actually, it was something he had adamantly wanted to help prevent and he tries not to feel like it's just one big slap to the face. ] Shit. An earthquake? [ he hopes this is where the parallels to the vecna he'd known before they gave the name to a very real, tangible evil, stopped. he hoped that he couldn't come back, that this was just a last stand thing, that — his eyes widen, head snapping back to steve. ] — wait, but the gates opening — I thought he needed to get four kills, [ it feels difficult to say out loud, without his mind going to the night chrissy died, to mayfield — ] — but you said everyone made it out. Including Red?
[ maybe its a moot point, maybe he should back off with the questioning. he's tired, he's so tired and so is steve but he can't stop from asking. there's a part of him that wants to make sure that it was worth it. that his was the only loss. ]
[ the plastic crunching noise does feel a bit foreign, given the hypnotic sort of hum they've gathered around themselves, but steve can't find it in himself to be too thrown off. the comfort wouldn't be good, that distant hope that whatever peace it is they've built for themselves might be dangerous. they're not out of the woods yet. they make it around a bend and steve chances another glance in eddie's direction, gesturing down with his chin towards the bag at eddie's feet. ]
There's another in there if you're still thirsty. Food too. [ and no, eddie, for the love of god do not make fun of him right now. then he's sitting back, back to driving, back to listening to eddie explain what he is pretty sure is damn near impossible, and yet...
he's getting tired of thinking the impossible is actually impossible. and maybe, this once, he'll just have to be okay with it. with the fact that this worked. with the fact that eddie is-
part of steve seizes up, panics, almost slams the car to a stop just because he needs to reach over and make sure that eddie munson is still breathing. it catches him off-guard, the sudden need to double-check, but then eddie is speaking about being revivi-whatevered and sounds dismissive and exhausted and steve doesn't really blame him. nothing they are going to talk about here will change anything, they're not going to find venca or fix hawkins or wake max up. all they can do, really, is getting eddie back. get him cleaned up, let him sleep, maybe feed him a little more. steve tries to hide how that moment of panic is still rattling somewhere behind his ribcage, tries to breathe normally as they drive, and then there is the question. the one that has steve wincing, the one that has him sighing.
because the truth is - he doesn't know about red. none of them do. he sat at the hospital for hours with lucas and erica and dustin. he did what he could with the parents, explaining what happened, pushing off nurses who tried to look too closely at his neck. dustin, who had just finished sobbing. lucas, who couldn't stop. it makes steve's skin crawl, thinking about her in that bed, thinking about any of those kids in that room. and after billy- ]
She's alive. [ steve says, his eyes still to the road in front of them. his words are clipped, stern, almost like he's trying to convince himself as much as eddie. ] But she's not... [ he bites into his lip, tries to swallow back the tightness in his chest, that very same guilt that steve just can't quite shake. ] The doctors said she's in some kind of coma. She's breathing, still, but hasn't woken up yet. They're not sure when she will.
[ if she will, he doesn't add. they're getting close to his place, just another couple of miles. suddenly, the car is feeling a little too small. suddenly, he misses the rv. ]
[ not out of the woods yet at all. and clinging to a liminal space created within a late night car ride after an impossible rescue would only last so long.
there might be an urge to make a comment about how well prepared steve was. and maybe eddie does so without vocalizing, a look to his feet then back at steve with brows that quirk up, something minutely amused in the expression that steve may or may not catch in his periphery.
in the gaps between his speaking of his not-death and dropping off to reconsider, eddie's attention catches on to the palpable tension quickly — eyes on steve's hands, suddenly white-knuckling the steering wheel. thinks he hears the hitch of breath and he's perceptive enough to recognize the telltale signs of panic. the guilt follows soon after, some worry of having been the one who caused it by asking, or being, or whatever. there's guilt and there's worry and the inexplicable urge to reach out. instead, his hands play with the corner of the towel still sitting on his lap, awkwardly unmoved from where steve had dumped it.
she's alive, but there's a but, of course there is and eddie just sighs. ] She will. It's Mayfield we're talking about here. [ he says, quietly. he doesn't know that for sure but there's something in the back of his mind that pulls on that thought anyway. and he can't help but think of that place again, of that vast void of an in-between, glassy surface and dark for infinity and he can't explain why his mind tries to reach for that connection, but he finds himself hoping she's not stuck there too.
he stays quiet for a little while longer — not too long, silence hanging only for a few beats before eddie gently asks, can't not after he'd caught steve's mostly well-hidden panic: ] Hey — you okay?
[ steve doesn't quite catch the raised brow, the small amount of amusement, and honestly he would have probably shrugged it off if he did. he learns, okay? he heard about the state that will came back from the upside down in, he experienced it first hand, walking barefoot through that hellscape for hours. and that's all steve could really think about when he was packing, what he wished he'd had. what eddie might need, if he'd still been dealing with half the injuries he had when they found dustin.
but then there is the panic, the tension, the sudden feeling that maybe none of this is real. that maybe this is just another vecna vision, because they'd never found his body, did they? this could all be some lie, some weird vision crafted by that stupid dark wizard because he knows who it was who barbequed them. and maybe that is where this fear is coming from, this panic. maybe part of steve is terrified that this whole thing has just been a hallucination and he's actually floating fifteen feet over his pool in his back yard.
none of that is helping though, so steve reminds himself to just keep driving. to focus on the next step in front of him. eddie, in the passenger seat, still breathing. eddie, asking about what happened and steve just sort of. doing his best to explain it. she's still breathing, he reminds himself. she's still breathing. ]
Yeah. [ steve doesn't meant to sound so down about it. doesn't mean to sound defeatist. he knows the only thing they can do at this point is wait, and eddie is right, it is mayfield. if anyone was going to beat this, it would be her.
the silence that follows has steve...not spiraling, necessarily, but worried. concerned. his mind bounces from eddie to dustin. dustin, who he still needs to tell. to lucas, who is probably still at the hospital. robin, who steve probably needs to check on, and nancy, who still can't reach mike, whose mom is a wreck. and then his own parents, who definitely haven't called home, who had been on another work trip and probably don't even know what's happening, and-
eddie's voice breaks through his thoughts, and while steve doesn't jump, necessarily, there is a kind of wince. a kind of belated realizing that he'd sort of drifted off, thought wise, away from the drive. you okay? ] What? [ a glance over, and steve presses his lips together. not quite a smile, but something. ] Yeah- no, I'm okay. [ a small shake of his head as he's looking to the road again. he pulls down his street, just another few houses and they'll be there. steve resettles in his chair, trying as best to ignore just how fake his answer had sounded. trying to think about how he doesn't really know why it feels like he's lying when, objectively, yeah. he's fine. ] It's just weird, I guess. Usually when this shit happens, it just...goes away. Now... [ his fingers lift up from the wheel, sort of half gesturing to the road around them. to hawkins. to the battlezone the whole town has become. ]
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yes. or- whether or not he should, he's going to. he is.
two taps, he can walk. ] Good, good. Okay. [ two more taps, though steve feels a bit like...not that there is hesitation, but that there's something more. the gates, a gate. god - part of steve wants to ask him to just go to the nearest fissure straight through town, but he doesn't know if that's actually going to work. he knows the gates, themselves, are decemated - but if they're going to get through, they should do it at the spots they know a gate had been. he decides to go with the tried and true, ruling out lovers lake, the house, and then-
fuck. is he really going to make eddie go back to his trailer? steve bites his lip, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to walk - back and forth, back and forth. ] The highway. [ he says the same moment he thinks it. ] Fred- Fred Benson. He died out on the highway- um. You remember the wreck last year? That killed that one student? Can you meet me there? [ they'd talked about fred's death when they were figuring out how to kill vecna. but it's also felt like years since then, years since the scariest thing they were dealing with was the curse itself.
steve comes to a stop, arms still crossed over his chest, waiting for an answer. ]
Could you get there?
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talk about 'see it to believe it'.
he can walk, albeit it sucks, but there's not enough taps in the world to relay that part across but all of this sucks ass.
where steve contemplates the gates, eddie follows in natural progression. his foot taps an anxious rhythm and he thinks the trailer would be the obvious choice. eyes slip shut and hands run through his hair to cradle his head and its difficult not to feel the coward again for not wanting to face it now.
what if the bats are there? that place was covered by those vines, too, and boarded up, and — and chockfull of very recent and very raw recollection that made his heart race thinking about it and look at brave eddie munson, running again, always running —
his head snaps up. Highway. Fred. yeah, yeah, he remembers. yet another one he's blamed for. he takes a breath. he can do this. he doesn't need to go back there. he can go to another place. it's not terribly far, not when you measure it in steps to safety. he nearly knocks the light over, shoving his hand back for two taps. ] I'm gonna have to, won't I, Harrington?
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he doesn't know the state eddie is in, but unless he's been magically healed by some weird bat poison venom, it's going to be bad. steve doesn't like the odds that eddie is in any kind of state to be walking miles anywhere, but they don't really have other options.
two taps, he can get there. steve nods again, because okay. you know. this might just work. ] I have my stuff upstairs. I'll get everything together and will meet you there. Okay? [ he waits for confirmation before he continues, the feeling of having something to do feeling good, actually good. like maybe this could work. ]
But hey, Munson- listen- [ because he has to catch him before he leaves. and not being able to actually see him makes steve feel a little like he's back to yelling at nothing. he sets his hands on his hips, this time, feeling oddly...he doesn't know. protective? ] Take your time. I'm assuming you're still beat to shit, and I don't need you passing out before you even get there. Go slow, stay away from the vines, and if I don't see you at the gate I'm going to start retracing steps back to my place. [ does steve need to be putt on such a tone? probably not. but the last time when he tried to be suggesting, it hadn't stuck. now? now he just needs it to be said. ] And jesus christ, man. Be careful this time.
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eddie nods along, emphatic, before it quickly turns to a roll of his eyes. ] It's the tone, man. I wonder who Henderson gets it from! [ despite that, there's little heat in the retort that falls on no ears at all. he taps the light, twice, curt little answers. ] Yeah, yeah. You be careful, big boy.
[ and eddie goes to lift himself back up. it feels about as expected, as he's winded by the time he's upright. or as close to upright as he can get, with hands braced on his knees and head spinning. the problem with taking breaks when every single part of you has been running on nothing but adrenaline and some spiteful need to keep moving, is that when the lethargy sets in, anything after hurts all that much more. his sides strain, reminders of the bites that had torn through fabric and skin. it looked like his jackets had managed to keep away anything that would make him bleed out to death (again). he hadn't really considered which part exactly it was that did him in before. which one of the bites? or the tails?
he grits his teeth, and there's that metallic tang along his tongue. he runs his hands over and under his shirt, and much to his surprise, they mostly come away dry. nothing miraculously healed, no. but coagulated enough that he could keep moving. he could walk, in the most lose term of the word and he isn't even sure how long he'd walked before.
mind's capable of crazy things when the crazy is all around you, he supposed. it's a little difficult to move away from the light, the spike of disquiet rolling in the pit of his belly. okay. okay. just get to the highway. that's halfway between here and the trailer park. give or take. he can do this, and — and steve will be on the other side.
its a slow and stiff journey, between trying to stay conscious and not tripping into some creepy wine that always looked perpetually moist. but when he turns on the highway, the small two lane road leading to what he can only hope is his salvation, he gawks. ] What the hell?
[ that's not one small portal, anymore. that thing is a chasm. stretching far beyond the very epicenter, even as eddie almost dutifully tracks to the point in the road that served as the crack in the windshield. if a windshield is interdimensional. ] Don't tell me this is as bad as it looks. [ muttered, under breath and suddenly all the more away of just how goddamn tired he is. he doesn't have it in him to be frightened, either, too focused on using the last bits of his energy to find the very point on the road that matters. he peers over the edge, takes a deep breath, and plunges the dull end of the makeshift spear through, to try and look through to the other side. here's to hoping that one perfectly hairsprayed head of hair is looking right back. ]
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eddie might be alive. that’s good enough for him.
steve wonders if he’s seeing things, because there’s no way he can get tone out of blinking lights. no way, right? but those two taps happen and he thinks he hears something sharp and argumentative in it, and it has the same feeling as if steve can see eddie rolling his eyes. and it’s probably a good thing they can’t see each other, because something in it makes steve smile. ]
Good.
[ and steve can’t help but hesitate, to hold his eyes on the lantern, just in case. he doesn’t even know what eddie would say, if anything at all. yes and no answers aren’t exactly something to be waiting for, but he does anyway. one second, then two, and then he's already wasting too much time.
how it works out as perfectly as it does, there's no way of knowing. something between how slow eddie has to move in and the fact that steve knows where his shit is, has done this before, and then has his car to get him the rest of the way there. the fact he's done this what...twice now? going into a third time? gives him a kind of experience he never really wanted to have, but now is thankful for, as he speeds along the dark roads of hawkins through the middle of the night, trying to keep himself from taking the turns too fast, hand tapping on the steering wheel.
come on come on come on.
it's hard to keep his mind from spinning, to focus on the task at hand. there aren't kids in his back seat this time, there isn't nancy to his right, plans that have already been made. part of him recognizes that he's rushing into this, how dangerous this could be for all of them, but he can't let eddie stay there any longer. honestly, every minute it takes him is too long.
how did this even happen? what even happened? eddie's not going to have the answers, most likely, but steve can't help but wonder. did he miss something? was eddie still breathing? did they leave him down there, alone, among the vines, while he was still alive? steve's a bit sick at the thought, presses the back of his hand against his mouth as he speeds down a straightaway, avoiding the cracks in the road and scars left behind.
hawkins is a disaster zone, but steve's prepared. steve has his eyes out. steve doesn't have time to slow down. by the time he arrives and screeches to a stop, steve gets to work - pulls out his supplies, his pack, his axe. he'd grabbed a rope before he left and moves to tie it around the closest tree, frustrated at how slowly he is moving now, but if he's getting them both back through this. steve keeps moving, though, because he has something to do. he knows that there is a next step, and a next step after that, and steve just keeps moving.
moments later, steve is standing at the edge of the chasm. it's a lot like the others, which have dissected all of hawkins into four pieces, but this one steve knows is a portal. knows is a gate. fred munson died right here, murdered by vecna, and now all of hawkins is in shambles. because they failed, because they didn't stop it. but at the very least he can do this.
he takes a breath says aloud- ] You better be there, Munson. [ before he drops down and climbs inside, bringing the rope along with him. it's, thankfully, not up into another ceiling, so physics aren't an issue, but steve brings the rope as a precaution all the same.
just one more gate. one more portal. one more trip into the upside down to bring eddie munson back. ]
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there's something serendipitous about how the timing works out. eddie's navigation of the cracked landscape aligns near directly with steve's a pivot of perspective — up to down, or down to up — and as eddie is approaching the edge of the portal on unsteady footing, is the exact moment steve had decided to jump on in.
it shocks eddie, a sharp yell escaping just as he takes a step back, foot catching the edge of a root as he scrambles backwards and lands — painfully, thank you — right on his ass. ] Oh holy shit — !
[ this isn't exactly the best way to make a first impression since coming back, ass over teakettle and looking like he's crawled out of...well, here. its embarrassing, is what it is, and maybe he'd care a little bit more about that, but the relief bubbles over in manic laughter as he scrambles back up, teeters dangerously to one side, stepping forward as if to really affirm that steve is standing right in front of him. eyes wide, and words tumble out, breathless — ] Shit, man, you really came. Never thought I'd be saying this but you're a sight for sore eyes, Harrington. [ says the dead man walking. ]
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thunder rumbles in the distant echo of a strike of lightning and steve looks up, the sharp yell turning all his nerves on end, just in time to see eddie fall ass backwards back to the ground. for a brief moment, steve just sort of stares - eddie, eddie freaking munson - who looks like absolute shit, who looks like he's been crawling through the upside down for days, who looks alive, breathing, moving.
they move in some kind of weird synchrony, back up to their feet about at the same time. up on their feet, and towards each other. except that where there is a kind of slight hesitancy where eddie is concerned, steve can't help but close the distance as the words tumble out of eddie. sight for sore eyes he says, like he's not the one steve left dead, bleeding out, still on the ground of the shadow of the trailer park. ]
How the hell... [ steve starts, voice low. how the hell is this possible.
this is the part where things kind of stop mattering, because eddie could have said literally anything, and steve still would have been there. still would have immediately had his arms around him, immediately pulling him in for a tight hug. and yeah, sure, it might be the first time the two of them have hugged. it might even be their last. but it doesn't matter, because steve doesn't know how else to translate the immense amount of shock, relief, and whatever else that threatens to drown him. eddie might have bubbled into manic laughter, but steve is apparently a hugger, as he tightens his hold on him for just a brief moment. ]
Of course I freaking came. Did you really think I wouldn't? [ steve says, trying to go for indignant but unable to really get there, as he pulls away from the hug - his hands going to eddie's shoulders, like he has to hold them up.
and for a second, and then probably another, steve just sort of looks out him. lets out a breath. ]
This is real, right?
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thunder rumbles, lightning threatens to strike and it is always that ominous scarlet and every time it had come, eddie couldn't help but flinch. couldn't help but look to the horizon, expecting a swarm to be scattered across. expecting to run (again) or to die (again).
except — he doesn't look this time. he doesn't look this time and he doesn't flinch and everything feels like it moves in slow motion, attention on - and only on - someone he half expected to not be real. the ache is momentarily dulled by the sheer disbelief, by the adrenaline that spikes through him as steve is the one that's suddenly right in front of him without hesitation. always without hesitation and what a frustrating trait this man has —
eddie feels himself open his mouth, take in a breath to retort something — and he really wouldn't be able to even say what — when harrington's pulling him in and it's that second where eddie's brain finally clicks in with real, holy fucking shit this was real. it takes a breath of hesitation through a suddenly tight throat before his arms are around harrington, fingers splayed across a shoulder while the others tighten on the back of steve's shirt.
the hold tightens and there's a small grunt of protest, some pain shooting through but he doesn't care even then, not really and who would have thought that eddie the freak munson would be nearly clinging to steve harrington for all he's worth?
in the end, he's glad steve's hands stay on his shoulders when they move away. he's insanely aware, now, that this is probably the only thing keeping him upright. his laugh is weak. ] I thought — maybe I was just making all that shit up, with the light, with you, with everything but —
This feels real, right? [ uncertain, hopeful? his own hands are on steve's elbow and tap along it for restless emphasis, warm against cold fingertips, and the other hand still hovers somewhere by the ribs like a tether. an anchor. he can be embarrassed about it later. he shakes his head, and there's a frown twisting his expression. ] I don't think I'm ready for this to be one bad trip, man.
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because the slowed time works in both ways. steve, who feels like he's moving through water, through fog, who snaps his attention directly to eddie and eddie is there. eddie is breathing. eddie is alive. eddie munson, eddie freaking munson, and steve finds he can't really even think. they're both moving, both scrambling to their feet, and then they're there. he has his arms around him, and he's solid and he's breathing and he's-
god damn. he's alive. and he knows he's holding on a little too tightly, knows that it probably hurts, with how eddie's probably still injured. probably still in pieces. but steve does it all the same, and then pulls away with only marginal guilt, his eyes scanning eddie's face first, then down his front. ]
Same, yeah- I didn't. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or what, but- [ eddie's hands are on steve in turn, like a second tether, two points of contact. steve, in turn, just sort of curls his fists into the fabric of eddie's army green vest. tries to remind himself to breathe. they're not out of the woods quite yet, and steve still has to figure out if eddie is even in a state to drag himself back through the portal to hawkins, but for now he just kind of. well, he laughs - just once - a sort of huff of a breath, holding back what is starting to feel like a burning behind his eyes.
( because of course he's thinking of dustin. of course he's think of robin. of how crumpled the two of them have been. how dustin hasn't done much besides cry, and mutter why, eddie, why. how steve had been forced to tear dustin away from eddie's body. and now? now. holy shit. )
there is too much going on behind steve's ribcage to unpack right now, so instead of doing any of that, steve just lets a hand wander from eddie's shoulder to the back of his neck. just for another anchoring point. ]
It's really good to see you, dude. [ a pause, a small smile, and then steve's face is shuddering back into action. into plans. into get this done and get out. his eyes are back on eddie's clothes, on the blood and gunk and whatever else the upside down has left on him. ] Are you going to be able to crawl back through? Or do we need to patch you up first?
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except one thing — this was real. the thought repeats itself over and over again and you know what they say, hear it enough times and you'll actually start to believe it. and steve isn't the only one who's mind goes to henderson, who eddie thought would be the last face he'd ever see and is inexplicably glad that it isn't dustin that came back to fetch him. that it wasn't dustin on that end of the light because he isn't sure he can face the kid now. no, no, he'd rather save the grand reveal when he is absolutely sure he isn't going to keel over from the exhaustion alone.
awareness returns to his state in waves, to the rhythm of a racing heartbeat before the aches and pains pulse with the punishing beat of simply being alive. eddie's eyes follow steve's gaze down, down to the front of his shirt and the sorry condition he's in, and he thinks of saying something coy like like what you see but he'll pocket that for later. steve's hand on the back of his neck is grounding. his own grip travels from elbow to shoulder and holds there, half-way for support as the grin that slides across his face is shit-eating and only mostly sane. ] Yeah. You too. [ crazy. insane. absurd.]
I don't know about you, Harrington, but I really rather not spend another second up in this shitshow. [ it doesn't exactly answer steve's question. will he be able to? god, he doesn't know but he sure hopes so. he huffs an exhale, shaking his head, and entirely ignoring the fact that he would be absolutely fine if steve didn't let go of him right now. because letting go risked the idea of him just poofing out into smoke, like some ghost of christmases past. who the hell knew what sort of tricks vecna would have up his sleeve, or what the extents of it would be. maybe the real test would be getting out, finally taking a big gulping breath of that fresh, fresh hawkins air. ] We can — we can crawl out, you can slap a bandaid on whatever pound of flesh they didn't take — you weren't kidding about that, by the way — and we can just call it a shit day.
[ speaking of which — there's a question he is afraid to ask. he'd much rather keep up the false bravado that let's face it, even he wasn't buying. but he forces his eyes back to steve's, brows furrowing before nodding towards the much-larger portal than he'd seen before. ] Hey — did the others — [ deep breath. why is he getting choked up now? ] — did everyone else make it out okay?
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because that is definitely the only reason all this is complicated. totally. and whatever it is that is going on in his chest when eddie grins back at him ( yeah, you too ) is definitely not butterflies and totally just. part of all that complication.
and no, eddie's comment doesn't answer anything at all, really, and it doesn't help steve feel any better about this. eddie looks bad, but he is also standing. he isn't just fully passing out in steve's arms. he did walk, all the way here, which steve should probably take into account a bit more. ]
Okay- and yeah, man. I know. Believe me. But okay, it's actually a bit easier not having to climb up through the ceiling, so it shouldn't strain all that too much. My car's right on the other side, too, and we can go back to my place and- [ steve is rambling, giving voice to a plan he'd gone over and over in his drive over here. thoughts he'd tried to pace out. what would nancy do and all that. it's not that he's nervous about it, either, because the plan is as solid as they can get at this point. what steve doesn't realize is that by rambling, he's really just stalling, really just trying to let time pass before he knows he has to let go of eddie and climb back through.
which might be why steve is more than ready to jump on to whatever other question eddie asks, even before he realizes what exactly it is he's asking. it's a moment later that steve sees it, the furrow in eddie's brows. the deep breath. he definitely chokes up, and steve just squeezes where he's still holding the back of his neck. ]
Yeah. [ he says it without thinking, smiles without thinking, because steve can't handle another broken expression. even if it's not the complete truth (he doesn't even know what to call max right now), it's part of the truth, and that...that can be okay for right now, right? ] Yeah, they did. And once we get you out of here, it'll be everyone. [ steve doesn't know why he feels the need to be reassuring right now, but he needs to. has to. his grip on the back of eddie's neck is tight, hopefully grounding, and he leans his head down just a bit to make sure he is holding eddie's eye contact when he asks: ] Okay?
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then came crashing in the rest of this entourage, steve harrington in tow. steve, who was the biggest surprise of the group. steve, who talked about a girl with superpowers like it was as casual as sunday news. steve, who in the end, believed his innocence and who henderson idolized and there must have been a reason, eddie had thought.
and here's the damn reason, in the flesh. proof in the pudding and damn it if dustin wasn't right about so many things (he'll never tell him that, though). and if eddie is clingy — because this is definitely clingy, right? because he should back off too, do a solid and chipper thanks and move on — he'll blame it on the adrenaline that's finally crashing, a tremor to his hands. he'll blame it on the blood loss, and process the rest later. process how, despite everything that he just fucking went through, everything they all went through, there's a lightness in his chest that still makes him want to laugh and cry both, sending pinpricks along the spine.
steve's talking, and he gets most of that. it's a solid, simple plan. there really isn't too many ways they could screw this one up. the exit's right in front of them and for once, it isn't guarded by something with too many limbs and teeth and tails. but, he can also feel steve talking, distracting, where his hands still hold on. ] Yeah. Yep. Way easier. Not sure I'd be able to do entry level gymnastics right now, that's for sure.
[ and then — harrington holds his eyes and eddie just about believes whatever the guy will tell him next, with the sort of conviction it holds. his attention flits along the whole of steve's expression — from the smile (it almost reaches his eyes) to the hold and the reassurance works, and eddie squeezes steve once, at the junction between his shoulder and neck, before clearing his throat, wiping at his nose and stepping back. and if its a little reluctant, if his hand slides down the length of an arm, it's definitely because he's just wobbly. that's all there is to it.
he nods, hair in his eyes. fights the urge to ask more questions. later, those come later. ] Okay. That's — that's good. Yeah, man. Okay. [ a peer at the gate, before looking back at steve with a grimace. hesitant to go in first. hesitant to consider the possibility of going in at different times, a spike of anxiety over any of them staying here longer than they needed to, eyes briefly scanning the hoizon. he takes another deep breath, bracing himself. god, he feels like shit. ] Alright, come on then. Down the rabbit hole we go, Alice.
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Yeah, yeah, no there's no gymnastics, no rope climbing. It should be easy.
[ as easy it can be, at least. it's just climbing through a hole in the ground, avoiding any bats, any eyes. they don't even know where vecna is anymore, but steve can't let those thoughts carrying him away. first, eddie needs to get through. they both need to get through. it will be easy, it has to be. steve is not going to lose eddie sliding into home. not when they're so close. so it's close. all of this.
and steve will keep his hands on eddie and physically drag him through if need be.
( and if there is something there, when their eyes meet, when eddie squeezes his neck in return, and god. the feeling that fills him, now, is something hard to put to words. )
eddie steps away from him, pulls away, and steve holds still through it. definitely does not follow his hand down his arm. steve's hands come out, ready to catch him if that wobbling turns to something worse. that's good he says, and steve just keeps watching. watches him turn to the gate, watches him grimace. after another second, steve is looking to the gate too, the same gate he just slipped through, and steve just. nods. ]
Yeah, yeah, c'mon. [ and whether eddie wants it or not, steve's hand is now on eddie's elbow - like he's going to lead him through, like he's going to help him take each step. he walks them both over to the edge and picks up the rope he'd brought through and sets it in eddie's hands. catches his eyes again. ] Don't let go of this, either. If something goes wrong I can pull you through.
[ definitely not stalling. nope. not at all. he'll wait for a nod or a confirmation or something else before he will give one last nod.
they're doing this. right now. getting him out. ]
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it was frustrating, how stabilizing harrington was. not just in the tactile reassurances that eddie never thought he needed all that much. eddie, who was good at being alone but never wanting to admit that he rather not be; the outsider, the metalhead freak, the fantasy nerd. but here he was, not alone and what a fucking relief. who would have thought the line between fantasy and reality was such a blur?
thoughts hazy, and it takes effort to refocus them now. but they were. so. close.
then steve's hand is back at his elbow. back, like an anchor calling him to something real and the rope falls into eddie's hands, rough against dirt-covered palms. he stares at it, for a moment before harrington's doing that eye thing again and eddie is nodding along before he can reconsider.
but — as they get closer and closer to getting out, he catches steve's wrist, pulling on rope until he's hanging on to the other end. ] Since you're so prepared, Harrington — we're not taking any chances, right? [ if you squint, there's an attempted pinch at a dig, though it is neither particularly biting nor clever.
maybe someone else would have said nothing's going to go wrong, or we got this or whatever other optimistic bullshit that would do wonders in a place like this. but this is eddie munson, self-proclaimed cynic, we're talking about here.
and maybe steve was going to tie them off anyway but eddie is not taking any more chances either. and maybe they're wasting precious time, standing on the very edge of the rolling gate steve just emerged from moments before, but it doesn't take much time at all for eddie to loop the rope around harrington's forearm, tying it off into a slipknot. a glance back up at him from under his curling bangs. ] We should, um — [ taking a moment to slip the other end of the rope around his own arm, loop around twice. he doesn't hide the wince, doesn't think to, as some bite is aggravated by the friction. ] — go through together though. Right? [ please. ]
[ he moves to crouch beside the gate, inadvertently tugging steve down after him. a hand lifts, hovers at the edge. there's a second of consideration, taking this place in. the horizon, the rolling thunder in the distance and the strikes of scarlet lighting. for a second, he squints, thinks he catches the silhouettes of things that makes his heart jump in his throat, and it seems to dredge up enough adrenaline to break the weird reverie of this moment. shock his system into action one last time and — ] Okay, yeah nope, let's go. Let's go, [ who cares if it was his imagination. who cares if they were so far away they probably wouldn't have even noticed. who cares whether or not those things were even there. it's enough to give him the short burst, to slide his hand up to steve's back and push him forward, into the portal —
— and when he emerges on the other side, it's with a gasp. hands grasp at pavement, scrape painfully on dull rocks and only now does he actually believe this worked. ] Holy fucking shit!
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but he swallows back that fear - they are so close. steps away. and he knows that it's always this home stretch where everything goes wrong, where this could go bad, and maybe that's part of the reason steve is so quick to grab eddie's elbow. so quick to get a hand back on him, even if he could mask it by the steps. by handing him the rope, explaining the next steps. it's the only way that steve can keep himself moving, really - focusing on the next step, on the way out, on the plan.
eddie is still responding, still following, so steve thinks that maybe this could work. that maybe they could make it. that he's being ridiculous, being this nervous about everything when they're so freaking close. that is - until eddie's hand is there, around steve's wrist, catching him before he even tries to step away further. we're not taking any chances, right? steve looks down at where eddie's hand is around his wrist, if only because for some reason it seems easier to look at that first, as if he could see something else there, before his eyes go to his eyes. his brow furrows, as if confused, at the question. right? ] No, we're not. [ steve says simply, turning his hand in eddie's grip to grab eddie's own wrist in turn. to hold him, to squeeze it, as if eddie needs the reassurance. ] Don't be a hero. Not again. [ and maybe, maybe steve's a little more genuine and a little more intense than eddie's attempt at a dig would have suggested. steve sequeezes eddie's wrist, once, as if to reaffirm it. don't be cute. not again.
that's when eddie ties the rope around them both, around steve's arm and then his own. there is something off about the movement, about the somewhat desperate way that eddie barely even looks at him through the curtain of his bangs. we should go through together. steve watches eddie wince when he ties his own bit of the rope, watches the obvious pain. curiosity flickers across his face, because steve's not exactly sure why eddie would feel the need to go this far, to hurt himself just for the confirmation that he won't be left behind. steve could think of four or five other ways to reaffirm that, two or three that wouldn't have left behind such pain, but steve decides not to comment on it. instead, he hears the unspoken please and just. nods. ] Yeah- together.
[ eddie moves to crouch down by the gate, and steve gets pulled down along with him. he goes easily enough, moves to sit along the edge, to situate his pack and his materials and to make sure eddie isn't having second thoughts. thunder rolls off in the distant, just loud enough to catch steve's attention, to see the shadows and the lightning and what every the hell else is out there. it shoots a sort of tension through him, right at the same time eddie says yeah nope, let's go, right at the same time eddie's hand is on steve's back. without thinking, steve's arm shoots out and grabs at the front of eddie's shirt, to get a fistful of the fabric and to all but drag eddie munson along with him.
and then they're through, back into the other side, and steve - without really realizing it - uses the moment to pull eddie through and even after, it sends him a little further into the pavement, the rocks. steve, also gasping for a moment or so just to settle the curled feeling in his gut, looks up. around. to make sure nothing followed, to make sure nothing is there. eddie's voice rings out again, holy fucking shit, and something bubbles up from steve's stomach. bubbles up, and then escapes as a kind of laugh. not manic, nothing like eddie's, but a bark of relief. they're out. it worked. eddie - safe back in hawkins.
steve gets to his feet, pulls off the rope, the adrenaline still pumping through him. still pushing him forward. he gets up, wipes off his knees, and then manages the step or two over to stand in front of eddie and hold out a hand. an offer to help eddie to his feet, too. steve is smiling, when eddie looks up at him. he can't help it. ]
Welcome back to Hawkins, Munson.
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but it was action regardless, something that helped him not feel useless, juxtaposed against how quickly steve had come down to help him. how steve brought supplies, a pack ready with who knows what else. how steve kept talking, plan in hand. so even if it was just some stupid buddy system, eddie felt like at least he was doing something. the pain was secondary — impossible to avoid when every part of you ached anyway.
but steve goes along with it, going down beside him and then everything that happens next feels like it both takes seconds and hours. steve's hand is bunching the fabric of eddie's shirt when they go through, together. eddie's stomach lurches, the world turns upside down and topside up and maybe he yells out and it all spins and it takes a moment of looking up at the star-speckled sky to slowly find his bearing. somewhere beside him he hears a single laugh, rope taut enough to tell him he wasn't alone, that harrington didn't get left behind.] Jesus H. Christ.
[ and eddie munson, lying on the cold asphalt in the middle of a ruined highway, doesn't disappear into a puff of smoke, contrary to his own expectations. eddie munson, somehow, had managed to cheat death. his chest heaves, his heartbeat a loud ringing in his ears, racing hummingbird quick in the birdcage of his ribs.
steve comes into focus above him, upside down and smiling and eddie answers with a grin of his own, suddenly elated. his hand reaches out to grasp steve's offer. real. this was all real and solid still and no one was disappearing in any smoke or illusion or bats and bad memories.
it takes some effort to leverage himself back up. there's a part in his brain — some remnant of self-preservation — that understands he's tapped out. there comes that dip in senses, that white-out lightness in his head as the tinnitus reaches a peak, as he lifts himself back up and only in large part thanks to steve, grip back on the forearm and holding tight, does he not go teetering face first into the asphalt. his grin, a touch lopsided, stays. there's an unsteady laugh spilling back out.
his other hand slides up to rest back on the junction between shoulder and neck; there's a short squeeze. comfort in the returned proximity, gratitude and a curious sort of fondness he never expected to have. but they did fight — and win, and lose — to a very real, very unimaginable evil and maybe that allowed for him to be all...this about it. whatever this was. he just cheated death and steve fucking harrington, former king of hawkins high, just saved his ass from being stuck in that stupid place forever. what a crazy, crazy world this was.
and, obviously, he's just holding on so he doesn't fall over. of course. ] Never thought I'd actually be happy to hear that, Harrington.
[ he finally chances a better look around them, eyes landing on harrington's beamer, ostensibly parked not too far away. he points at it with a wobbly finger and pretends to ignore the tremble returning to his hands. ] Now, I'm — going to go sit. In there. Before I eat shit right front you. [ that cool with you? is intoned between the lines, he hopes. not that he doubts the ability of your strong beautiful arms to carry his unconscious self over to your car but...there were limits, man. ]
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no, it doesn't matter. not right now. because steve could fix this- steve could fix all of this, if they just go through. it's part of why he lets eddie tie the rope, why he doesn't point out that he doesn't plan to let go of eddie even as they flip through. why, when they make it to the other side and the world rights itself back up again, he just. lets them sit there, eddie with his back to the asphault and his eyes to the sky, and steve, on his hands and knees. steve, who is looking at eddie, who suddenly feels like he takes the first full breath of air since those two taps at his lamp.
he gives himself those couple of moments to get back to his feet. he's unsteady, more exhausted than he's ever felt in his entire life, but they're not home yet. he pushes up with a kind of determination that feels way too familiar, and moves to stand above eddie. watches him for a moment, just a breath, because the image is almost too similar to when they'd first made it back. to eddie, part of the plan, back to the mattress. eddie, who looked breathless, but alive, ready to join them on this hell of a ride they've already taken too many times.
( steve tries not to think about this, too, feels a bit like relief. that this moment, seeing him, seeing eddie with that lopsided grin and those brown eyes and him, looking up at him. taking his hand. )
steve is very aware that he does a lot of the lifting, very aware that eddie is just nearly spent. his own mind is already onto the next step of all this - getting eddie into his car, taking him back to his house, getting him cleaned up - that he barely notices the hand back on his shoulder. barely notices the squeeze. instead, it feels more like they've righted something that had felt off, like having eddie's hand on his shoulder and getting his own hand around to eddie's side is where it should have been this whole time. ] Yeah, well, it's better than the alternative.
[ there isn't enough energy in him to even think about the town's reaction to eddie. not enough to really worry about what this can all mean, or how eddie might feel. steve's energy and worry and focus is entirely on eddie, who is not in the upside down. eddie, who is breathing, and warm, and may or may not be swaying. who may or may not just collapse right in front of him. ] Yes. [ he says, glancing up like he's actually checking to make sure his car is there before he's looking back at eddie. ] Yes, okay, right. Here- [ and whether or not eddie tries to pull away, it doesn't really matter, because steve's hands are moving, his whole body is turning, and before eddie probably even knows it, steve's got one of eddie's arms around his own shoulders and his arm around eddie's waist.
they're going to make it back together, one way or another, and steve's got enough on eddie that he can force this if he needs to. even if he doesn't think he will. he walks them both to the car, gets eddie situated in the passenger side seat, equipped with water and snacks and a towel and honestly, steve may be coming across a little manic, a little rushed, but he's trying. and whether or not eddie wants the stuff, it gets set in his lap as steve sits him inside and closes the door and runs around, throwing himself into the drivers seat.
home. next step. he can do this. he turns on the car and puts it in drive, speeding off down the highway. ]
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steve seems to operate on a beat much faster, much quicker than eddie is able to be on, because he barely even comprehends the fluid twist harrington makes before eddie’s arm is thrown around a shoulder and a hand is wound around his ribcage. there’s an exhaled oof as meanwhile, his brain plays catchup, some stray thought of well, hewas co-captain of the swim team as explanation and where the hell did that come from?
but in the end, he’s silently grateful for this, for how steve moves and leaves no room for argument, because he isn’t sure he’d be walking to the car. he might have been crawling, were he on his own. maybe he’d have crawled into a bush and slept for five days, even if the thought of sleep inspires a weird sort of inexplicable nausea.
grateful for harrington’s incessant need to keep moving and doing and while wheeler might have been the strategist of the group, the master planner with just enough crazy tenacity to make eddie buy into whatever she said, steve was — well, shit. steve was the one running around and making sure everyone was okay, wasn’t he? who dived in first, who thanked eddie for saving his ass when he did it all himself, who ran around the kids like a border collie trying to keep them all in line. who came to get him. who told eddie not to be the hero and in all honesty, munson thought that mantle was solidly and firmly sewn upon steve’s capable shoulders anyway. it still was, and would remain there.
eddie drops into the passengers seat with very little ceremony and more like a bag of bones. he is about to say something — when a pile of items is dumped onto his lap and his grunt of surprise is somewhat indignant and the car door is slamming shut before eddie can rattle off a retort.
within the span of the steps it takes harrington to slide into the drivers seat, eddie turns his gaze down to actually look at the items on his lap. towel, water, snacks. huh. that was…kind of endearing actually. however, with the manic energy of being fucking alive, being out of a hellscape and the realities of being back in a town where he is wanted for murders not yet having caught up, the look he gives steve when he slides into the driver’s seat is deadpan, allowing his old self to seep back in. ] Harrington, stop, you spoil me.
[ — and then steve takes off with a rumble of the engine and while eddie is notoriously insane in his driving, the lurch knocks him back into his seat, and his hand blindly feeling for the door handle to grip onto. ] Yep-okay —!
[ but it isn’t long until he leans his head back, watching the silhouettes of dark trees race by. he doesn’t even care where they’re going. doesn’t ask, or doesn’t think to because finally, finally, after all the senses have been fired up from tension, from the fear and the stress and the pain, it feels downright euphoric to just be sitting. his hands fold over the hem of his shirt, curl tentatively over his side. the fabric is torn up and gray and mottled with blood stains. there’s a grimace across his face, before one hand goes to his neck. it sports similar bruising to what steve had been walking around with days before, and eddie’s eyes, subconsciously, fall to look at steve’s neck in turn.
quietly: ] Hey, ah, Harrington?
Thanks. For coming to get me. [ he shakes his head, and his smile is wobbly, much like the single laugh spilling from a raspy throat. ] Would have been real embarrassing to, you know, die twice.
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but eddie was alive. is alive. and if it meant saving him over and over again, steve wouldn't hesitate. wouldn't even have to think about it.
it doesn't matter, though, because it's over. it's finally over. all of them are out of there, for good, and eddie is whole. here. even if steve is kind of carrying him on their way to the car. he barely even feels the weight of it, and that is saying something. steve, who hasn't slept in days. steve, who feels wrung out and exhausted and piecemeal even now. steve, who - if needed - would probably carry eddie all the way home to his house. it makes him feel a bit invincible, the way the feeling of success floods through him. so much so that he has to remind himself they're not safe yet.
eddie lands into the passenger seat with a thud, and if steve wasn't so focused on just getting on the road he might have worried over even that. instead, steve is all but diving into his own driver's seat. is turning on the car and letting whatever music he'd had in there blast through the speakers. eddie says you spoil me and for whatever reason, that just makes steve laugh - something exhausted, something a little too bubbly, something that might just be thinking this worked. ]
Shut up, Munson. [ for whatever reason, it's said with a smile. a glance over into the passenger seat as steve all but tears off across the highway. he should be worried about a cop, worried about curfews and other people out on the road, but he feels too...what? good? relieved? ecstatic? he keeps his eyes on the road and avoids any of the cracks left behind, two hands on the steering wheel. after a short time he does manage to slow to something more manageable, but it's hardly the speed limit.
the music must shift just at the right time, must turn to a slower song, because steve is just able to make out the quiet ah, harrington?. it draws steve's eyes over, catch eddie looking back at him.
( his chest does not tighten, his heart does not skip a beat. ) ]
Huh? [ he says, eloquently. because in all reality, steve doesn't quite get what eddie is getting at. what he's trying to say. the confused look is probably familiar to the other boy enough by now, but still steve can't help but look over at him again, brow furrowed.
thanks for coming to get me he says, and steve just...doesn't get it. why eddie thinks he wouldn't have. it very nearly makes steve angry, a flash of something protective and a little dark, but he shakes it off. turns his eyes back to the road. tries not to think of a world where he couldn't have had this chance, where instead of eddie breathing, alive, here, it had been the alternative.
steve swallows. ] I mean, yeah, man. Of course. [ a beat, and then against steve's best efforts to keep his eyes on the road, he looks over at eddie a third time. ] Is that what happened? Did you really...you know. Die?
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maybe — maybe he can just sit in the bliss of ignorance for a little bit more, before he goes in for the questions. maybe he’s earned that much. maybe he can later ask steve why he thought he was talking to max before, why the town looks turned upside down (did they lose?), was he still wanted for murder and why steve looks like hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. the guy looked haggard too, bags under the eyes.
eddie watches steve’s profile for a moment longer, catching the motion of him looking away from the road to him and back to the road. catches the defined confusion. seems to remember that he’s staring, which might be bordering on rude so he looks away.
of course, steve says, like it’s the easiest, most obvious thing in the world and eddie can’t help but wonder how everything about him seemed to come so simply. maybe that aligned with the reputation of being the unseated king. maybe it aligned with henderson’s worship, which Eddie would loathe to admit he now understood. it surprised eddie to no small degree that he too was tugged into that orbit, with how natural falling back into this seemed to feel.
at the question, eddie snorts, turning back to look at the road ahead, at the rushing trees that open up into town. the song on the radio is slow and lulling and not at all good. he twists a ring on his finger, unable to keep too still. ] Yeah, yeah I think so. [ it’s hard to answer — and maybe steve can forgive that much, given that eddie is ostensibly back from what most people don’t return from. ] I just — I remember it being cold. And Henderson, you know, getting to me? And then — kind of like nothing, man. Nothing for a really long time, until I heard some girl’s voice? [ fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes close briefly and he shakes his head. is it bad that he just needs a beer? ] I don’t think I recognized it, but she just said no. Just nope! [ a wave of his hand, some fingerwag for emphasis.] And I was suddenly back there again, and I guess alive because if I was anything else this shit wouldn’t be stinging so much, you know?
So — so I guess I was something, at least, but I know I was gone. [ he laughs, and it strains enough to teeter off into a groan. ] I know that sounds insane. Or well, [ he considers it a moment, tipping a crooked little smile. ] More insane than everything else.
[ he clears his throat, rubs both hands across his face, before going for the water bottle. ] But, you know, enough about me — what the hell happened to Hawkins? Why does it look like the shit we were trying stop actually happened?
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( he doesn't know what it means, how okay with that concept he is. how part of him wishes they could just stay here forever - in this car, surrounded by shadowed trees, his headlights the only thing pushing them forward. eddie, who is definitely staring at him, who is living and breathing and looking at him, and steve... he's kind of okay with it. with this. with whatever this is. )
steve feels a bit sick, when eddie says yeah i think so. feels his hands tighten around the steering wheel. there's really no reason that it should hurt this much, hearing eddie's side of this, dustin getting to him, feeling nothing at all. he hates even thinking about it, which makes it that much easier to focus on the next bit of information, to feel his face scrunch up even as his eyes are on the road. ]
No? That's all she said? Just no? [ steve almost asks who, but eddie just said he didn't know. and because that doesn't make any sense. like - it is crazy, right? crazier than normal? though steve might not have a great handle on what that's supposed to even mean, these days, with a crater fully quartering off the entire town.
and maybe he should be taking that into account. how this is crazy, yes, but everything is always crazy. this isn't the first time that steve's entire world view has been turned on its head, and it probably would be the last. if anything, it's the sound of eddie's groan that worries him, how the laugh can barely hang on. it tightens something inside his ribs, something painful and protective, but steve just keeps driving. keeps wishing he could either go faster, or that he lived closer.
which of course means eddie asks him exactly what steve wasn't even thinking about. about the shell around them, the chaos he and the others have been trying to work through for the last day or so. steve sighs, keeps his eyes on the road. ]
They're calling it an earthquake, but something must have gone wrong. The gates opened and cut through town - four segments, just like we were afraid of. I don't know if it actually happened, because he's not...you know. Here? Vecna, I mean. But something happened.
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in a selfish way, eddie would be fine with this lasting longer than it will, and he really doesn't feel like thinking on the why.
eddie shrugs, a hand thrown up, some defeated gesture in the face of steve's reaction. in the meantime, the water bottle is chugged down. who knew one could get so thirsty walking around for hours half dead in an alternate dimension? the plastic crunches under his hands, and it almost makes him frown. like the sound is too harsh for the lull of this spell, like that might snap it too. ] Yep, that's all! Just no. I — I can't even describe the place I was in, dude. [ if nothing was a place, it would be where he was. it wasn't biblical in any stretch. no stairway to heaven or highway to hell. it had been a little less than death. he doesn't go into trying to describe it further, though. it wouldn't make sense, and he'd just sound more and more like a madman. which was saying something and it isn't that he thinks that steve fully disbelieves him but — look, the guy already looked stressed as it was and some part of eddie rallies against that, concern crawling up to sit somewhere in the back of his mind, chased closely by some want to prevent any more. they've been through enough, he'd reason, were he to reflect on it. that steve had a tendency to carry the weight of responsibility on those shoulders of his and maybe there's guilt somewhere in there at the prospect of adding more. so what he supplies is dismissive. they wouldn't get their answers like this anyway. ] Look, someone just revivified my ass and I have no idea why, or how. Maybe — maybe I just got lucky, somehow, I don't know.
[ what steve tells him about the town is disconcerting. horrible, really and eddie listens with some dread creeping up to sit in the hollow of his suddenly dry throat. months back, if someone were to ask, eddie would say he cared about hawkins just about as much as hawkins cared about him. and while he held no illusion that it wouldn't care if eddie munson, accused murderer, never returned from the unknowable death, this wasn't a fate he ever wished upon it. actually, it was something he had adamantly wanted to help prevent and he tries not to feel like it's just one big slap to the face. ] Shit. An earthquake? [ he hopes this is where the parallels to the vecna he'd known before they gave the name to a very real, tangible evil, stopped. he hoped that he couldn't come back, that this was just a last stand thing, that — his eyes widen, head snapping back to steve. ] — wait, but the gates opening — I thought he needed to get four kills, [ it feels difficult to say out loud, without his mind going to the night chrissy died, to mayfield — ] — but you said everyone made it out. Including Red?
[ maybe its a moot point, maybe he should back off with the questioning. he's tired, he's so tired and so is steve but he can't stop from asking. there's a part of him that wants to make sure that it was worth it. that his was the only loss. ]
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There's another in there if you're still thirsty. Food too. [ and no, eddie, for the love of god do not make fun of him right now. then he's sitting back, back to driving, back to listening to eddie explain what he is pretty sure is damn near impossible, and yet...
he's getting tired of thinking the impossible is actually impossible. and maybe, this once, he'll just have to be okay with it. with the fact that this worked. with the fact that eddie is-
part of steve seizes up, panics, almost slams the car to a stop just because he needs to reach over and make sure that eddie munson is still breathing. it catches him off-guard, the sudden need to double-check, but then eddie is speaking about being revivi-whatevered and sounds dismissive and exhausted and steve doesn't really blame him. nothing they are going to talk about here will change anything, they're not going to find venca or fix hawkins or wake max up. all they can do, really, is getting eddie back. get him cleaned up, let him sleep, maybe feed him a little more. steve tries to hide how that moment of panic is still rattling somewhere behind his ribcage, tries to breathe normally as they drive, and then there is the question. the one that has steve wincing, the one that has him sighing.
because the truth is - he doesn't know about red. none of them do. he sat at the hospital for hours with lucas and erica and dustin. he did what he could with the parents, explaining what happened, pushing off nurses who tried to look too closely at his neck. dustin, who had just finished sobbing. lucas, who couldn't stop. it makes steve's skin crawl, thinking about her in that bed, thinking about any of those kids in that room. and after billy- ]
She's alive. [ steve says, his eyes still to the road in front of them. his words are clipped, stern, almost like he's trying to convince himself as much as eddie. ] But she's not... [ he bites into his lip, tries to swallow back the tightness in his chest, that very same guilt that steve just can't quite shake. ] The doctors said she's in some kind of coma. She's breathing, still, but hasn't woken up yet. They're not sure when she will.
[ if she will, he doesn't add. they're getting close to his place, just another couple of miles. suddenly, the car is feeling a little too small. suddenly, he misses the rv. ]
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there might be an urge to make a comment about how well prepared steve was. and maybe eddie does so without vocalizing, a look to his feet then back at steve with brows that quirk up, something minutely amused in the expression that steve may or may not catch in his periphery.
in the gaps between his speaking of his not-death and dropping off to reconsider, eddie's attention catches on to the palpable tension quickly — eyes on steve's hands, suddenly white-knuckling the steering wheel. thinks he hears the hitch of breath and he's perceptive enough to recognize the telltale signs of panic. the guilt follows soon after, some worry of having been the one who caused it by asking, or being, or whatever. there's guilt and there's worry and the inexplicable urge to reach out. instead, his hands play with the corner of the towel still sitting on his lap, awkwardly unmoved from where steve had dumped it.
she's alive, but there's a but, of course there is and eddie just sighs. ] She will. It's Mayfield we're talking about here. [ he says, quietly. he doesn't know that for sure but there's something in the back of his mind that pulls on that thought anyway. and he can't help but think of that place again, of that vast void of an in-between, glassy surface and dark for infinity and he can't explain why his mind tries to reach for that connection, but he finds himself hoping she's not stuck there too.
he stays quiet for a little while longer — not too long, silence hanging only for a few beats before eddie gently asks, can't not after he'd caught steve's mostly well-hidden panic: ] Hey — you okay?
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but then there is the panic, the tension, the sudden feeling that maybe none of this is real. that maybe this is just another vecna vision, because they'd never found his body, did they? this could all be some lie, some weird vision crafted by that stupid dark wizard because he knows who it was who barbequed them. and maybe that is where this fear is coming from, this panic. maybe part of steve is terrified that this whole thing has just been a hallucination and he's actually floating fifteen feet over his pool in his back yard.
none of that is helping though, so steve reminds himself to just keep driving. to focus on the next step in front of him. eddie, in the passenger seat, still breathing. eddie, asking about what happened and steve just sort of. doing his best to explain it. she's still breathing, he reminds himself. she's still breathing. ]
Yeah. [ steve doesn't meant to sound so down about it. doesn't mean to sound defeatist. he knows the only thing they can do at this point is wait, and eddie is right, it is mayfield. if anyone was going to beat this, it would be her.
the silence that follows has steve...not spiraling, necessarily, but worried. concerned. his mind bounces from eddie to dustin. dustin, who he still needs to tell. to lucas, who is probably still at the hospital. robin, who steve probably needs to check on, and nancy, who still can't reach mike, whose mom is a wreck. and then his own parents, who definitely haven't called home, who had been on another work trip and probably don't even know what's happening, and-
eddie's voice breaks through his thoughts, and while steve doesn't jump, necessarily, there is a kind of wince. a kind of belated realizing that he'd sort of drifted off, thought wise, away from the drive. you okay? ] What? [ a glance over, and steve presses his lips together. not quite a smile, but something. ] Yeah- no, I'm okay. [ a small shake of his head as he's looking to the road again. he pulls down his street, just another few houses and they'll be there. steve resettles in his chair, trying as best to ignore just how fake his answer had sounded. trying to think about how he doesn't really know why it feels like he's lying when, objectively, yeah. he's fine. ] It's just weird, I guess. Usually when this shit happens, it just...goes away. Now... [ his fingers lift up from the wheel, sort of half gesturing to the road around them. to hawkins. to the battlezone the whole town has become. ]
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