Chapter Text
“No,” Steve said, the words leaving his mouth as a slow growl. His blood boiled and red-hot anger rose in him; If he wasn’t careful, it could explode out of him and he could hurt an unintended target. He didn’t need Dustin misunderstanding his anger as blame for Eddie’s death. If only he had anyone to blame. Anyone but Eddie himself. “I told him not to be a hero,” he murmured, dropping to his knees before Dustin, who still held Eddie clutched in his arms. The boy’s face was twisted in anguish and he rocked back and forth ever so gently as he cried for his friend—his hero—to come back.
Robin let out a choked sob—triggered either by despair at the sight of Eddie or by her own fear of what could happen to them, it wasn’t clear—but her hand found its way into Nancy’s, and the two girls stood together in shock as Steve studied the face of his now-gone companion.
His bloodied friend still had the slightest trace of a smile etched in the lines on his face, and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to sob. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. He reached out a hand and brushed his thumb across the tear streaks on Eddie’s cheek, and as he did so, he felt it—the faintest hint of a breath.
His heart leapt in his chest and he pressed his fingers against Eddie’s neck, struggling for a moment to find it, but there it was. Faint and struggling to keep going, but it was a heartbeat. That tiny little heartbeat—still running—gave him all the hope he needed.
“Jesus Christ, Dustin, you always gotta check!” Steve cried, tears streaking down his cheek as he pulled Eddie into his arms and stumbled to his feet, barely able to steady his arms enough to carry the boy. “Nancy, go through the gate and call an ambulance!”
Steve could barely hear the commotion that ensued over the pounding in his head. Nancy was off in a flash, and the three of them—no, four. Eddie was still with them. He had to be—stumbled to the trailer as fast as they could. The limp in Dustin’s step broke Steve’s heart, and if he hadn’t been carrying the kid’s almost-dead mentor in his arms, he would have taken the time to check in on him. But there was no time now.
“Hurry, hurry,” Steve shouted, ushering Dustin up the rope Nancy had dropped through the gate. “Robin, you’re next.”
“No,” she said firmly, even though practically her whole body was shaking. “You’ve got Eddie. I’ll be the last one through.”
Steve struggled to climb with Eddie in one arm, slung over his shoulder. It was nearly impossible, but fueled by adrenaline and rage, they made it back and Steve cushioned Eddie’s fall, getting the breath knocked out of him in the process. He struggled for breath, then pulled himself up and frantically checked Eddie’s wounds for signs of damage while they were moving him. His shirt was covered in Eddie’s blood, and he tore a strip off the bottom of it, wrapping it around Eddie’s stomach.
Nancy rushed to his side, saying something about how the ambulance was on its way, but Steve could barely register his surroundings. All he saw was the lifeless look on Eddie’s face.
Dustin was sobbing in the corner, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain what happened—Eddie had been a hero. He bought them time to kill Vecna—enough time for Nancy to take the headshot and kill that monster. They had barely had time to celebrate before they heard Dustin’s screams and Steve was off running. If anyone touched a hair on that kid’s head there’d be hell to pay. The sight that greeted them had broken Steve’s heart. At least, at least, Dustin was safe. But Eddie … it should have been anyone but Eddie. He was new to all of this. It shouldn’t have taken him.
“Dustin. Robin. Wait outside for the ambulance,” Steve ordered. When Dustin protested, he shouted, “Robin. Take him outside!” He couldn’t have Dustin staring at the body any more. He couldn’t traumatize the poor kid any more.
“Steve,” Nancy said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. He was too angry to accept anyone’s comfort at the moment. Not until Eddie woke up. He kept two fingers to Eddie’s throat, desperately holding onto that small pulse.
“Stay with me, Eddie,” Steve whispered, slouching over Eddie’s body so Nancy couldn’t see his tears.
They heard the wail of sirens, and Steve’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Within moments, the paramedics were at his side, lifting Eddie onto a stretcher.
“You have to save him,” Steve begged them. “He’s innocent. I promise. You have to save his life.”
“That’s our job,” a paramedic said as they carried him out of the house. The kids chased after, holding on to each other just to have something to ground them.
A woman emerged from a black car outside Max’s house, glanced at the scene unfolding, and approached the kids. “El Hopper’s friends?” They stared at her in confusion and she introduced herself as a friend of Dr. Owens. “I can drive you to the hospital, but one of you has to explain on the way.”
“Kids!” A paramedic called out. “One of you can accompany your friend.”
Dustin started to run toward the ambulance, but Steve grabbed his hand. “No. It has to be me. I’m the oldest, alright, kid?”
“He’s my friend!” Dustin tried to wrestle his arm from Steve’s grasp, but he held on.
“That’s why I can’t have you watching if anything goes wrong! Please, Dustin. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
Dustin stopped fighting, and Steve pulled him into a quick hug before running off to the ambulance. He hopped into the passenger seat, and glanced back, taking one last look at his friends, staring back at him with despair written across their faces. Eddie was gonna be okay. He had to be.
When his friends arrived at the hospital, Steve was already sitting in the waiting room, his head in his hands.
“Is he okay?” Dustin asked, his eyes red and puffy from crying.
“It could be hours before we know,” Steve said dejectedly. “They’re working on him now. But last I knew he was still alive.” His fingers twitched. He needed to know for sure that he was okay. Until he could feel Eddie’s pulse again, he wasn’t going to relax.
“Steve,” Nancy said softly, taking his hand. “You gotta clean up. You’re covered in blood.”
“I … yeah.” Steve clutched his shirt. The blood had begun drying and was now sticky. It felt wrong to wash it off—as if that meant somehow washing away Eddie. Giving up on him.
He was the first kid Steve had lost. The first person he had let down. Eddie would die on his watch, and the only thing he could do was clean the kid’s blood off his shirt.
He stumbled to his feet, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. He playfully ruffled Dustin’s hair and said, “c’mon kid. We gotta clean you up too.”
The two were silent in the bathroom as they washed Eddie’s blood off their hands. Steve moved in slow, methodical movements. He kept rubbing his thumb against his palm even after the blood was washed off, until Dustin called him back to reality.
“Steve, I think that’s good. You’re gonna rub your skin off if you keep doing that.”
“Really?”
“I dunno, do I look like a doctor?”
How could the kid still crack a joke? After what he had seen? “I love you, Henderson,” Steve said softly, hope rising in him. Eddie would be okay. He had to be. For Dustin.
“Hey, no. Don’t say that. Last guy that said that to me nearly died in my arms. You don’t get to say that while you’ve got Nancy’s shirt holding your torso together.” His voice rose and his sadness was turning into a bittersweet anger. “You don’t get to go, Steve! You don’t get to leave me!”
“Buddy, I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.” He grabbed Dustin and pulled him in, wrapping his arms protectively around the boy. God, he had grown up. He was so much taller now, and wiser too. Sure, he had a hell of an ego, but he was right to. He was one smart kid. Steve didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky to be friends with him. “I promise.”
Dustin squeezed him so tight he thought he might pop, but he didn’t say anything. If the kid needed a human stress ball, so be it.
After pulling away from the hug, Steve helped Dustin out of his hoodie and they ran it under the faucet, watching the water turn red as it ran through it.
“Don’t use hot water,” a voice said, and they whipped around to see Robin poking her head through the door to the men’s bathroom. “That’ll actually set bloodstains. Try to get a neutral temp.”
Steve glanced nervously over her, oblivious as to why she knew how to wash out bloodstains. He adjusted the water, and with the help of a little hand soap, they got it down to a faint pinkish color. “Y’know this is the men’s room, right?” He asked when Robin joined them, leaning against the wall lazily.
“Oh really? I had no clue.” She rolled her eyes and threw a plain white t-shirt at him. On the chest pocket it had a small Hawkins Hospital logo. “Nancy bought you a shirt.”
By the time they changed and had washed the blood off their hands, Mr. Munson had arrived and was talking in hushed tones with Nancy in the waiting room. She must have gotten his number off a ‘missing’ sign for Eddie. Dr. Owen’s associate was trying her best to shut Nancy up, but Mr. Munson deserved the truth, and she gave it to him. All of it. The Upside Down, Vecna, all of it.
“That’s … a lot to process.”
Steve didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with any of that right now, so he let Nancy and the mystery woman talk to Mr. Munson. He collapsed into a couch, where he would stay for rest of the night. He beckoned Dustin toward him, and the kid joined him, nestling into Steve’s arms. The kid was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and it helped Steve to be able to hold him for a while. It at least gave him something to do. Someone to look out for.
Not too long after, the Creel House Crew arrived, having rushed Max to a hospital with a broken arm. Steve pulled a sobbing Lucas into a hug as he tried to explain what had happened to them—They had stopped Vecna in time to save Max from any more horrific injuries, but her left arm had snapped. She was okay—she had to be okay—but the lot of them were traumatized from the experience.
By the time the early light of morning was rising outside the window, Steve was the only one left awake. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Until there was someone else here who could look after them, he was the mother hen watching her brood—the leader of the party.
Dustin was tucked under his left arm, his curls brushing against Steve’s jaw. Robin was passed out on his right arm, mouth slightly open and a small line of drool running down her chin. Lucas had splayed out on the couch next to Dustin, using the boy as a pillow, and he had his kid sister tucked under his arm protectively. Nancy had moved to a scratchy, uncomfortable waiting room chair, but somehow found a way to fall asleep while curled up in it. Her head was rolled against the back of her chair, her curly locks obscuring part of her face. If he hadn’t been so worried about Eddie and Max, he might have found her beautiful.
After what felt like forever, Max returned with her arm in a sling. Her eyes were red and puffy and the expression on her face was terrifying. She was numb. This poor child had been through so much that she couldn’t even feel it anymore. She had been cried out, she had been worn out, and she had been broken. Steve locked eyes with her and panicked, wondering if that hollowed-out girl would ever smile again, but then he shook the boys awake and they rushed to her side and in that moment, her eyes lit up again. They breathed the life back into her.
Lucas crashed into her, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, careful of the broken arm, and she actually genuinely laughed. It was the most beautiful sound Steve had heard all day. After all the worry, one of them was okay. He hadn’t failed another. The two boys fretted over her, chattering so excitedly that it awoke the rest of their party, and soon, they had settled in as a messed up little family, waiting on news of their big brother.
It was emotionally draining to entertain the kids for the next few hours, but they needed their minds taken off their circumstances. They had offered to get the kids a ride home (they all knew Mrs. Wheeler would come in a heartbeat), but they had chosen to stay, and Steve found that admirable. Nancy pulled out an array of card games, and Steve joined them to play a few rounds, watching nervously as Dustin seemed on the verge of a breakdown every time someone smiled.
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve noticed Wayne sitting alone a few chairs down from them, eyeing their game. “I’ll be back,” he murmured, and he passed his cards off to Erica before leaving to sit down next to Mr. Munson. “Have they given you any updates on Eddie yet?” He asked, not sure how you were supposed to start a conversation with the guardian of the teenager you just got killed—no, nearly killed. He had to keep hope.
“They haven’t given me any more information in a couple hours.” Silence fell over them, and Steve turned back to rubbing his thumb against his palm the way he had earlier in the bathroom. It became a calming motion to him, and something to take his mind off the sheer awfulness around them. “You’re the Harringtons’ kid, right?”
Steve’s eye twitched, but he nodded. Being identified by his parents wasn’t necessarily his favorite thing.
“How’d you end up hanging around my Eddie?” Steve expected it to be said accusatorially, as if he were to blame for the state Eddie ended up in, but instead, it was a simple, genuine question. So Steve gave him the genuine answer. He and Eddie were fond of the same little shit: Dustin Henderson.
“Is that him over there?” Mr. Munson asked, gesturing toward their little family. “The one who looks like he’s one light breeze away from falling apart?”
“That’d be him.”
Wayne nodded. “Eddie told me about him. He likes that kid a lot.”
Finally, a doctor appeared and strode right up to them. Finally, finally, finally. For a moment, Steve’s joy was overtaken by worry. At least while they were waiting, they could pretend they still believed Eddie was alive. At least while they were waiting, they still had a chance. Now, the truth was cementing, and there was no going back. The doctor pulled Mr. Munson away to talk to him privately, and Steve watched, his breath caught in his throat. He had done it, hadn’t he? He had lost him.
Then the doctor left and Wayne turned to him with a soft smile, tears welling up in his eyes. Steve couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t get a full breath for the life of him. Everything had slowed down in that moment and Steve didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear that Eddie was dead. He wanted to go on pretending that he hadn’t lost a friend. His head grew fuzzy and his vision started to swim until Wayne grounded him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
“He’s okay, boy. He’s okay.”
He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. Steve gasped for air, choking back a sob. The kids surrounded them, hollering with excitement and clamoring for answers, and Steve clamped his hand over his mouth to silence his sobs. The tension left his body and the exhaustion crashed in. He was weary, so weary. And he couldn’t be strong another second. He stumbled, his heart breaking because he knew no one would be there if he fell. He was supposed to be the one who supported everyone else. But then an arm hooked under his and Robin whispered, “I’ve got you” and they collapsed onto a chair, Steve burying his face in Robin’s shirt while he sobbed.
He hadn’t failed him. He was alive. He’s okay, boy. He’s okay.