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Steve Harrington is good at compartmentalizing.
Maybe it just comes with the territory.
When you know about things like monsters and hell dimensions and girls with super powers, and yet, the rest of the world is utterly clueless, so you can’t talk about it , you kind of learn how to just pack it away in a neat little mental box, and go back to living. One might think it helps to have friends who have been through the shit with you, and it does, to a very small point. But eventually, it seems everyone reaches that moment of I just can’t talk about it anymore and can we please go back to pretending like we’re normal? , and so you do, and you compartmentalize, and you save that other shit for later .
And that’s what Steve’s been doing the last two days.
Compartmentalizing.
Sticking the last week’s events into a handy dandy little box, and filing it away, and pretending that everything is a-okay, and wow , how about that earthquake? He’s helping, like the good little boy scout he once was, and he’s grateful that everyone is back together ( even if he might be more confused than ever about if there is or isn’t something going on between him and Nancy ) because having them there is a distraction.
A different box to focus on than the one he has filed away for later.
Steve smiles, and laughs at jokes, and babysits from time to time, and gives Robin as many pep talks as she appears to need; and in those moments when he catches Dustin staring off into the distance, a look of sheer anguish on his face, he’ll say the dumbest thing he can possibly think of, just to get the kid to give him one of
those
looks, and come back to the present.
------------
The thing is, they’ve all been here before, right?
They’ve fought impossible odds against terrifying monsters, and they’ve lost people. They’ve lost so many people. Barb, who even though Steve hadn’t known her very well, and okay he might’ve been a bit rude to her back then , back before becoming the now Steve, he’d always thought she was nice. She’d meant so much to Nancy, and that had made her important to Steve, so yeah, he still thinks about her death, probably more than Nancy will ever realize.
And there was Bob, someone else Steve hadn’t known all that well, but he’d mattered to other people around him, and Bob had sacrificed himself for those people, and you just don’t forget something like that.
And Billy… while there aren’t too many nice things Steve can ever come up with to say about Billy ever since catching him with his hands on Lucas, his loss has still affected the group. He’d saved El, and for that they could be grateful, but his death has had the most profound, and ultimately painful affect on Max, and that’s something they’re still dealing with.
Death is just a thing in Hawkins now, right?
Even the people who don’t know the truth are still having to deal with the losses around them. They lost so many to the Mind Flayer a year ago that there’s really not a family in Hawkins that hasn’t been touched by death.
It’s just one more thing to compartmentalize. One more thing to move on from.
Right?
Except, it’s different .
It’s different
this time
,
goddamnit
, and there are moments Steve feels like he’s going to explode in his attempt to pretend otherwise.
------------
The couple of times he’s tried to sleep have utterly failed.
Steve can’t close his eyes without seeing Dustin sitting on the ground, cradling Eddie’s lifeless body in his arms, sobbing hysterically. He remembers swallowing back bile that had risen in his throat at the sight. The hundreds of Demobats lying on the ground, and the bloody marks over Eddie’s body told them everything they needed to know.
And maybe Steve had had so much trouble accepting the sight before them because he’d known —deep down in his gut, as he’d followed Nancy and Robin away from the trailer, he’d known something was going to go wrong.
Someone was going to be a goddamn hero.
All because that same someone had been a little too hellbent on the fact that he kept running away from things.
------------
Compartmentalizing is fuck all when you end up blaming yourself for someone else’s death.
No, it isn’t Steve’s fault that Eddie died.
And it isn’t his fault that Eddie decided to take on those damn Demobats by himself.
And yet, Steve thinks he should’ve tried harder to talk to Eddie about blaming himself for running away after what happened to Chrissy.
He should’ve said something more when Eddie brushed off coming through the gate after him and the girls. Steve should’ve told him about his first Demogorn, and how he’d run away with every intention of leaving Nancy and Jonathan behind to fight the monster off themselves. But in the end, when it counted, he’d gone back in and fought alongside them, and Eddie had done the same damn thing . He’d fought when it mattered, even though he hadn’t wanted to, even though his first instinct might’ve been to run, he’d followed them into the Upside Down twice .
Like a goddamn hero.
Honestly, there’s a lot of things Steve feels he should’ve said to Eddie.
He should’ve followed up his comment over being jealous and Dustin worshiping him, with the fact that Steve’s been just as jealous every single time Dustin talked about Eddie. He should’ve acknowledged Eddie’s compliment about him being a ‘good dude’ with a similar remark because it was true. All of it. The guy he’d considered a freak all through high school and beyond had actually been kind of cool. Weird, but cool, just like Dustin.
But Steve is shit at expressing himself. Ask Nancy. Ask Robin. Hell, ask Dustin. They all know. They all know he cares about them, even if he has trouble finding the right words or the right time to ever say it. He blames his parents for that. Expressing feelings has never exactly been a number one priority in his home, so saying things that need to be said usually gets shoved into a neat little box, and set aside for later. For someday .
Except, now there is no someday. There will never be a someday.
Not for Eddie.
------------
Steve hadn’t known Eddie very well, and maybe that’s what’s hitting him worse than anything else. Because, in the short time he had known him, Steve had actually been looking forward to getting to know Eddie better.
They hadn’t been friends , but they’d been on the cusp of becoming friends. In all honesty, Steve didn’t have a ton of friends, or at least, friends that were his own age. So he’d kind of been looking forward to the idea of getting Eddie’s name cleared, and then having this new friend, who was really quite strange, but also oddly… charming? Someone who was totally cool with looking after kids, and took the existence of monsters and girls with super powers and the Upside Down fairly well.
Steve thinks they might’ve even become really good friends.
The only person he thinks he could even talk to about this would be Dustin, but he can’t, not now. Not when every time Steve looks at him, he remembers having to force him to let go of Eddie. Dragging him away while the kid had screamed and cussed at him, and called him every name in the book for leaving Eddie’s body behind.
Steve can’t blame him for that. It’s not what he or Nancy or Robin had wanted, but there hadn’t been a choice . There’d been no way to get Eddie back through the gate, and it had been too dangerous to stick around, and the ground had started moving and—
There just hadn’t been time .
It’s just one more thing Steve sticks into a little box and shoves back into the furthest reaches of his mind because, god , he doesn’t even want to have to think about how they’d left him behind.
The friend that could’ve been. That
should’ve
been.
------------
Steve hasn’t told anyone this. It’s in its own neat little box, hidden away until he’s ready to face the reasons behind it.
Late the first night, when he couldn’t sleep, Steve had snuck back to Eddie’s trailer. It was quite honestly one of the most irrational things he’s ever done, and he hadn’t been thinking when he’d made the choice to go. Just jumped into his car and drove until he found himself at the trailer park, standing outside the door, hesitating just a moment before stepping inside.
He hadn’t looked at the gate. Just hurried his way down the hall, back toward Eddie’s room, where he’d suddenly found himself rifling through all of the tapes that had been strewn about when the others had desperately searched for something to play for Nancy when Vecna had her. Anyone might’ve thought he’d lost his mind had they found him, shoving tapes labeled Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne into his pockets. Those were the only names he recognized from Eddie mentioning them, but he picked up a few others as well, names like Judas Priest and Accept , Motörhead and Anthrax and Pantera .
Honestly, the names alone sounded awful, but that didn’t matter. Steve was determined to understand why Eddie liked this music.
He was determined to understand Eddie.
As he’d prepared to leave, Steve had found himself standing below the gate, staring up ( down? ) into the Upside Down, imagining just for a moment that Eddie would suddenly appear above him, sputtering and indignant that they’d just left without him, and it was just a flesh wound, and Jesus H. Christ, Steve Harrington, haven’t you seen a goddamn war movie? You never leave a man behind!
And the thought crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, he should find the strength to go back there, to make things right. He can’t fix things, but he could make them right, find a way to bring Eddie home, or at least give him the burial he deserves. Something .
But ironically enough, it was Steve’s turn to run away.
Because there are just some things you can’t face alone.
------------
Apparently, Dustin ends up going back to the trailer because out of nowhere he mentions to Steve that some of Eddie’s tapes are missing from his room. He stares at Steve when he says it, standing in the middle of Family Video where Steve and Robin are attempting to help Keith clean up the mess caused by the earthquake. Life goes on, and people want to watch movies, if only to ignore what’s going on around them.
Compartmentalization and all that.
Steve shrugs, and doesn’t meet his gaze, and makes some comment about how Eddie couldn’t possibly be the only person in Hawkins with bad taste in music. He winces as he says it, and winces again when he sees the familiar anguish flash in Dustin’s eyes at his words. He’s going to have to apologize, but that’ll be a conversation for another day.
For someday .
------------
Steve wants to believe that Eddie had been his friend.
He wants to believe that Eddie had felt the same.
That maybe there could’ve been a future where years down the road, the two of them both still in Hawkins, would’ve been hanging out, something that just became a regular thing, talking about that time Eddie had shredded his guitar in the Upside Down.
But what’s he supposed to do with that?
How does he put Eddie being his friend in one box, and the fact that he’d left that friend behind, in another?
How does he just go on pretending that life is normal and okay?
How is he supposed to compartmentalize the townspeople who speak openly about Eddie Munson, murderer and cultist, with Eddie Munson, friend, hero, and coolest weirdo Steve has ever known?
------------
Compartmentalization becomes pointless when he’s alone. It’s the only time he allows himself to unpack it all.
Sitting in his room, Steve lets himself cry.
Silent, angry tears for everything they’ve all been put through; for Max, laying so still and quiet in the hospital bed; for Lucas, sitting vigilant beside her; for Eddie, the friend they all lost.
------------
Steve listens to Eddie’s favorite music, and quite honestly, he hates it.
But he keeps listening, all the while knowing Eddie wouldn’t give a rat’s ass what his opinion was anyway, and smiles at the thought of the arguments that likely would have erupted between them had they ever had the chance to discuss their differing musical taste.
Steve still has Eddie’s vest. He thinks he should probably give it to Dustin, but hasn’t found himself capable of parting with it yet. Oddly enough, it still smells like Eddie, all cigarette smoke and weed and cheap cologne.
And there’s obviously something to the whole scent and memory thing he recalls from some past science class because sometimes he slips it on while Black Sabbath is blaring through the speakers, loud enough that his dad comes pounding at his door multiple times, yelling at him to turn down that trash! And Steve remembers walking through the Upside Down, and how he’d wondered if anyone had ever really talked to Eddie Munson about his personal space issues, and that he’d only made a brief attempt at ridding Eddie of his belief that he wasn’t capable of being a hero.
Sometimes, Steve finds himself whispering things like
I’m sorry
and
you deserved better
and
god, Henderson misses you
and
we all do
, and so many other things he knows Eddie is never going to hear.
------------
Monsters are real, heroes die in anonymity, friends get left behind.
Steve Harrington is really good at compartmentalizing. He keeps shoving all those moments he can’t talk about into their own neat little boxes, and smiles, and waits for the next time he gets to do it all over again.
For someday.