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//
They have to leave the body behind.
Dustin groans like he’s in pain when Steve tells him as much. He bends over Eddie, clutching at his jacket with enough force to turn his knuckles white, and shakes his head as if in denial.
“We can’t—” Steve says again, reaching down to place a hand on Dustin’s back, feeling him tremble. “Dustin. We can’t take him with us.”
It’s the truth; Dustin’s injured, and there’s no longer any rope to aid them in getting back to the Right Side Up. It’ll be difficult enough to get Dustin through the gate, let alone the dead weight of Eddie’s body.
Even now, Steve isn’t sure how they’re gonna do it. They’ll probably have to pick through the mess the bats left behind to see if they can find something for Dustin to climb. The creatures did more damage than expected, basically tearing the trailer apart; the state of the place had been enough to stop Steve in his tracks when he, Nancy, and Robin returned from the Creel House, and the subsequent discovery of the severed rope lying discarded on the floor beneath the gateway hadn’t made him feel any better.
He doesn’t know how long they spent looking – minutes or hours – but by the time Dustin had spotted their flashlights and called out to them, Steve had managed to convince himself that both Dustin and Eddie were dead. The relief he’d felt when he laid eyes on the kid – injured but alive, kneeling next to Eddie’s body amidst a swarm of downed, dying bats – had been like a shot to the gut.
“Dustin,” he says now, “c’mon. We need to go. Are you hurt anywhere else? Is it only your leg?”
Robin and Nancy are hanging back, watching Steve try to convince Dustin to let go of Eddie’s body. He’s been at it for a couple of minutes now, he thinks, and it’s proving to be difficult.
The kid’s a mess – hurt, and clearly exhausted, and whatever adrenaline had been driving him must have worn off by now, because what’s left is a grieving, heartbroken teenager who, Steve suddenly realizes, might just have experienced the first close, personal loss in their ongoing war with the Upside Down.
Because the truth is that they’ve lost people before – Barb and Bob, and Billy, if Steve’s feeling very generous – but none of them had been friends. Even Eddie hadn’t been Steve’s friend – they’d only met a couple of days ago – but Dustin certainly counted him as one. In light of that, Steve thinks he can understand the kid’s reaction.
Truth be told, had it been the reverse – had Steve discovered Dustin lying dead in Eddie’s arms – he thinks he might have done something irreversibly stupid.
“Steve?” Robin calls from where she’s standing next to Nancy, keeping a watchful eye on the still-twitching bats, and Steve shakes his head, gesturing at them both to give him some more time.
“Dustin,” he softly says. “Hey, c’mon, buddy,” and Dustin’s whole body shakes like the grief is manifesting itself physically, and then the kid takes a deep breath and turns, angling his body towards Steve, and Steve catches him as Dustin collapses against his chest.
Dustin had been crying when they found him, tears leaving visible streaks in the dust and grime covering his face, but he’s full-out sobbing now, one hand clutching at the back of Steve’s jacket like it’s a lifeline, all the while still holding onto Eddie tightly with his other hand, knuckles turned white by the strength of his grip.
Steve pulls him close and rocks him like he would an upset child – not too far off, he thinks – and murmurs reassurances that seem to fall on deaf ears.
Now that Dustin isn’t hovering over the body, Steve can finally make out Eddie’s face – bloodied, lifeless, still-open eyes vacantly staring up at whatever constitutes a sky in the Upside Down – and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why they didn’t abort.
They were supposed to abort at the first sign of trouble.
It can wait, he thinks. Dustin’s a solid weight in his arms, trembling but no longer sobbing, breath hitching like he’s depleted, but alive, and everything else can wait. Just a moment.
They just need a moment more.
//
Steve keeps an eye on him.
He can’t help himself; it’s been two days, and he still feels a jolt of panic whenever he looks up and Dustin’s out of sight. He suspects the kid feels the same way; after the gates opened – after the earthquake, as the rest of the world tries to rationalize it – Dustin hasn’t wandered far from Steve’s side. It’s a comfort to them both, Steve thinks.
He’d driven Dustin home after everything and had ended up staying. Because what’s Steve got waiting for him? An empty house? He’s better off sleeping on the floor in Dustin’s bedroom; at least that way, when he wakes from a nightmare in the middle of the night to find Dustin looking back at him, he can take comfort in the knowledge that the kid’s alright. Still grieving, but going to be okay.
So yeah, Steve makes sure to keep an eye on Dustin as the kid limps his way around the gym of Hawkins High, offering cups of water to those who’ve sought temporary shelter. Steve thinks he’s getting better at not feeling that stab of fear when he loses sight of Dustin in the crowd, but then he spots him making for the exit, and Steve can’t follow fast enough.
The parking lot of Hawkins High is jam-packed with rescue vehicles and residents who’ve come to drop donations off, and it’s easy for Dustin to vanish in the chaos. Luckily this is Steve’s home turf; he knows the school grounds like the back of his hand, and there are only a few places where you can hide away and be assured that no one will bother you.
Steve checks his old haunts first, before remembering that Dustin’s not one of the popular kids. It always seems to catch Steve by surprise, because Dustin’s got a way of getting under your skin – of pulling you in and making you want him to stick around – and it baffles Steve that so few others seem to feel it.
Sure enough, when he rounds the corner at the back of the school, where the nerds used to hang out next to the dumpsters back in his high school days, he finds Dustin slouched against the brick wall of the building. There’s no one around, most likely on account of the awful smell coming from the dumpsters, though that’s probably also exactly why Dustin chose it as a hiding place.
“Hey,” Steve says as he approaches, “you good?”
Dustin shrugs. He’s staring down at his feet, looking like he’s been crying, but he doesn’t show any sign of wanting Steve to leave him alone.
“I, uh, saw you talking to Eddie’s uncle,” Steve says.
“Yeah.” Dustin still sounds a bit choked up, like he’s still in danger of bursting into tears. “I thought he deserved to hear the truth.”
“You told him about Vecna?” Steve tries not to make it sound like an accusation. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know if it matters anymore – who they tell what – because the evening news is already talking about doorways into hell, so what difference is the reveal of another kind of evil gonna make?
“I told him Eddie’s gone,” Dustin says, “and that he died a hero.” He sniffles and wipes at his eyes, and when Steve reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder, Dustin doesn’t shake it off.
Steve thinks that Eddie would probably have been the last person to call himself a hero, and for most of the time Steve had known him – or known of him – he would’ve tended to agree. There’s no denying that Munson stepped up in the end, however, judging by what Dustin had told Steve that first night after, when they were having a hard time sleeping, in pain and in shock and all too aware of the fact that Vecna wasn’t dead but merely— banished, licking his wounds, waiting.
Steve remembers how it had felt, the first time; standing by his car and watching the lights in the Byers’ house flicker on and off, the dawning realization that he had a decision to make: to either walk back into the house and face down a monster, or to get into the car and leave.
He wonders if Eddie had felt the same thing, and if he ended up regretting the path he chose. Steve has never regretted his own.
“Do you know what the worst part is?” Dustin says, his voice pitched low, like he’s telling Steve a secret. “It’s when you came looking for me. I think I always knew that not all of us were gonna make it out, but I didn’t really get what that actually meant, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, because he does know, but Dustin continues as if he doesn’t hear him.
“I was alone, because Eddie had just— he’d died. And it was dark, but then I saw the lights, and then I saw you, and I felt so relieved. And everything felt okay again, because you were there. And it was like for a moment I’d forgotten about Eddie. Like he didn’t even matter.”
“Dustin—”
“Does that make me a bad person?”
“Hey, no,” Steve says, moving closer to him, stepping in front of him and placing his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “No, it doesn’t make you bad. It makes you— I don’t know, human, maybe.”
“I just didn’t want you to die too,” Dustin chokes out, and then his face crumples, and when Steve goes to gather him up in his arms Dustin comes willingly, clutching at the back of Steve’s sweater as he sinks into the embrace, whole body shaking.
“Hey, you’re okay,” Steve tells him, cupping the back of Dustin’s head in his palm. “You’re okay. And I’m okay. And we’re both gonna be okay.”
They stay like that for a minute or two, Dustin quietly weeping into Steve’s shoulder as Steve bears the weight of him. He tries not to think about his own shame – the split-second moment when the beam of his flashlight hit first Dustin’s face and then fell to illuminate the paleness of Eddie’s, and Steve’s first thought had been thank god it's not Dustin.
That’s something to unpack another day, and Steve takes the feeling and shoves it inside a box and sets it aside for now.
Dustin mumbles something against Steve’s shoulder then, but it’s impossible to make out the muffled words. Dustin must realize as much because he pulls back, just an inch, enough to rest his forehead against Steve’s collarbone, and then he says, “He told me he loved me before he— And I said it back, because I did. I do.”
Steve sighs, splaying a palm across Dustin’s upper back.
“I never told you that,” Dustin says. “But I should have said it to you too, a long time ago. I don’t want— If you had died without knowing that I—”
“I know,” Steve says. “I mean, I get it, man. I love you too. You’re my brother. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Dustin chokes out, and Steve can feel him tighten his grip on the back of Steve’s sweater. “I— Me too.”
Dustin’s taking more of his own weight now, not leaning on Steve as fully as he did in the beginning, and Steve gives him a light tap on the back of the head.
“Just talk to me, okay? About Eddie, or about what happened, or if you’re feeling bad about it. I need you to talk to me.”
“I will,” Dustin promises, and then moves to press his cheek against Steve’s shoulder.
It takes Steve a moment to catch on. “Are you wiping your face on my shirt?”
“No,” Dustin says, obviously lying, and Steve knows that whatever moment they just had is passed.
He huffs. “I’ll allow it this time,” he says, and then he gives Dustin’s back a pat. “You ready to head back inside?”
Dustin sighs, sounding almost reluctant, but takes a step back out of Steve’s arms. His eyes are rimmed red, though he doesn’t look as troubled as before – as if he’s purged whatever thought was weighing him down.
“I think I’m gonna stay out here for a bit longer,” he says, wiping at his nose. Steve wonders if he’s too congested to be able to smell how bad the dumpsters stink.
“Alright,” Steve says, “but looks like rain.”
Dustin glances up at the sky, which is rapidly and obviously darkening. “I think that’s smoke,” he says, and Steve has to admit that he might be right – these days it’s difficult to tell the rainclouds from the billowing plumes of smoke that seem to have permanently settled over downtown Hawkins.
“Ten minutes,” he tells Dustin, immediately feeling that now-familiar unease at leaving the kid behind. “And if you’re not back, I’ll come looking.”
“Yeah,” Dustin says. “I’ll be right in.”
Steve nods, and turns, and leaves him there, and feels almost alright about it. Because Vecna might still be on the loose, and half of Hawkins might have been reduced to rubble, and they might have lost a friend to the fight, but Steve and Dustin?
They’re gonna be okay.
//