Chapter Text
The evening was a pleasantly slow one, similar to all those that just had Steve wanting to double check the bat deep in his trunk, just expecting Dustin to come crashing into his parents house screaming and shouting about god knows what. He exhaled with a huff of laughter, before pushing himself up and heading towards the kitchen to grab something to drink, which to his deep disappointment couldn’t be a beer, Robin would end him if he ended up drinking too much before their opening hours.
A knock sounded through the house and Steve froze, eyeing the hall, daring the sound to come around again. He stepped into the hall as it hastily did, something about the frantic knocking set his mind on edge as he moved forward.
“Dustin?” he called out, squinting his eyes at the door, the shadow in the window not giving away much about the identity of the unwelcome guest. With a stealing breath he pulled the door open as another rattling knock sounded. Eyes widening, he felt his insides drop.
There in front of him, stood a face so familiar and once dear to him, covered in grime, cuts and with tear tracks marbling down its cheeks. And those deep brown eyes stared at him with horror rooted in their deepest depths forcing his body to react long before his mind gathered itself, pulling Eddie into a hug, into the house, into his warmth, the door swinging shut behind them.
“Eddie?” he eventually whispered, pulling back enough to look at him. It has been a long time, a really long time since he had the chance to see Eddie this close, it pulled at his heart, his father’s voice somewhere in his mind muttered how it is a good thing that it has been this long, how it should be longer. But Steve wouldn't let it out past the murmurs that always sound around the edges of his mind.
“What happened?” He tried, but brown eyes still wouldn't meet his and Eddie's weight is still pressed into his like he was the only thing keeping him afloat. Steve lets a breath out, arms holding Eddie to his chest dropping for moments before travelling to his shoulders and pulling them apart enough for their breaths to separate.
Worry gripped at Steve as their eyes still wouldn't meet, he could feel him shaking, his body vibrating out of control, his hands unconsciously fisting and tugging at the back of Steve’s shirt as his mind seemed to run itself into overdrive.
“Come on man.” Steve muttered, pulling away and grabbing onto Eddie's wrist, pulling him up the stairs, down the familiar route towards his bedroom. They walked in silence, allowing for thought to finally sound through Steve’s mind, the loudest being the big question of ‘why?’ Why was Eddie here, why did he come to him of all people? What on earth happened to make him think that Steve was the right idea?
Steve took a deep breath and turned to Eddie, he looked shaken, broken, like the land at his feet shattered so fast that he could face nothing but a never ending pit of horror. Stupidly enough, Steve has seen a similar expression on his own face, only in the darkest hours of the night, in an empty quiet house, but now wasn’t the time.
He turned to his closet, fishing out a sweater, one of his bigger baggier ones, black, of course, he doubted that over the last few years Eddie changed that much to suddenly bring colour into his wardrobe. He handed it to Eddie, making eye contact as his hand came to rest against the collar of the leather coat.
“Let’s get you comfy alright?” he spoke in a tone he’d usually use on some scared animal, and he hated it, this, whatever this is, it wasn't Eddie, whatever happened shook him so much that those tall looming walls around him shattered, his fortress was exposed and Steve didn't know how it came to be in such ruin.
But the nod brought an ounce of peace to his heart, as the coats fell down Eddie's shoulders, revealing the hellfire shirt before it was quickly covered by the black sweater, which frankly Steve didn't expect to fall over Eddie like that, sure he was an inch or so taller than Eddie, maybe a bit bigger thanks to the sports, but right now Eddie looked, small, fragile, everything Eddie wasn’t.
Steve let a hand run through his hair before he took another grounding breath.
“I’m gonna make us something to drink, okay? Stay here, relax, it’s fine, look… Eddie… uh.. Everything should be where it was, ye , um I’ll be back '' Steve managed to get out in a tumble of words while backing out of the room, seeing weary amusement start to play in Eddie's eyes as his words piled out. The soft nod from Eddie was all he needed before he tactically and absolutely gracefully left the room, not bumping into the door frame.
“Right” he murmured to himself before rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen, allowing the actions of rooting through cabinets and pulling out what he needs set a sense of normalcy over him, while his mind tried to come to terms with the fact that Eddie, Edward Freaking James Fucking Munson, was in his room for some reason, and the same Eddie seemed to be crying earlier, and shaking, and something happened cause why else on this planet would he turn up here.
Steve let the weight of that settle over his heart, why him, why on earth would he turn to him, after god was it 6? 8? years of silence, glares and hateful comments muttered under his breath as they passed in hallways. Steve found his eyes in the reflection of the cooling hot chocolate. What on earth happened to bring Eddie around to him again.
Grabbing the two cups he let his eyes run across the counters, taking a moment to withstand his fathers voice in the back of his mind yelling about the mess before he turned to make his way back up. Quickly walking and taking two steps at a time on the stairs he found himself looking into his room. His throat dry as he let his eyes rest over the form sitting on the ledge of his bed.
“Hey” Steve let out softly as he walked forward, ignoring the way his heart stings at Eddie's flinch to his voice. But brown doe eyes found his for a second before hiding away behind wild curls again. Steve holds out the cup, an olive branch between them, as he stood in front of Eddie. And it took a moment, but soon hands covered in rings reached out to take the offering and Steve felt a weight lift from his body.
He sat by him and out of the corner of his eye watched as Eddie started to sip on the hot chocolate. Steve allowed himself to sigh into his cup before drinking it himself. He let his eyes close and tipped his head back, the faint sound of rings tapping against the ceramic cup being the only noise in the house before a wet laugh to his right snatched his attention back.
“You remembered how I like it?” came Eddie's unsure voice.
“Remembered- ye of course I remembered, it’s stupidly easy.” Steve's eyes widened looking at Eddie.
“Easy? Like hell” Huffed out Eddie.
“Yes , easy, I showed you, like, 7 times how to make it!”
“Ye and I failed to make it this good 8 times, It's you and your magic dwindly hands.” Their eyes met and laughter bubbled past their lips, long lost familiarity burning bright in their hearts, before Steve quietened down.
“Eddie, what happened?” he tried again, watching as the boy beside him hunched over, how his hands started to tap out a song on his mug and how his small smile faded away again.
“I don’t know.” he eventually answered.
“You don’t?”
“No.” he shook his head, his hair bobbing around him as his hands tightened on the cup.
“It wasn’t me -” he started again, a tremor entering his voice “- but they won't believe me, because I can't even explain how it wasnt me, cause she started floating? Cause her bones-” He cut himself off, hunching in on himself again. Steve slowly lifted his arm, until he could rest his palm on Eddie's back.
“What happened?” he asks again, this time eyes meet his and the words that tumble past Eddie’s lips chill him to the core.
“Chrissy Cunningham, she’s dead, I- she- “ he took a deep breath. “ She's in my trailer.” he whispered.
“Where’s your van?” Steve asks, watching as confusion and shock blossom on Eddie's face.
“Wha-”
“Where is it, how did you get here?”
“Walked, I walked, my van’s at, um Ricks, by Lover lake”
Steve breathed a sigh of relief. This is good, even if they find the van they won’t think to trace Eddie here, whether it was fast thinking on Eddie's part or maybe just desperation, it was smart.
“That’s good, real good, they won’t think to look for you here, Eddie I- “ their eyes found each other “ I trust you, I believe you.” and it seems that six words is enough to lay the monstrous weight pinning Eddie down to rest. His gaze softened, and a shaky breath escaped his lips. And suddenly they were 10 again, sitting on Steve's massive bed, in an empty house, comforting one another from a truth they have yet to understand.
But this time, Eddie wasn't climbing into his window, Steve wasn't sporting a bruise the size of an adult’s fist, and in the end they weren't 10 anymore, were they?
Cups were laid to rest on the nightstand, hand in hand, to be forgotten till morning. A question arose in Steve's eyes, but he didn't really know what he was asking, as his eyes shifted from his bed, to the door, and to Eddie.
Was he asking him to stay? To leave ? The bedroom next door was ready, it always was, since the first night Robin knocked, whispering about Russians. But the question never leaves his lips.
“Can I stay here?” instead broke the silence. Steve exhales, a calm settling over his bones.
“Ye, sure man.” he mumbled. “I got work tomorrow morning.” he continued but something in his brain was already too tired to say more, he didn't even bother with clothes, shrugging off socks and jeans before he climbed into bed, and like all those years before, Eddie silently followed him.
Nose to nose they lay in their silence, unsure what tomorrow held, 8 years of change shattered so quickly before either of them knew what seemed to happen. Their eyes find each other, and Steve lets his hand reach out for Eddie's, hoping it would help in some way, to know it's okay. Steve didn't know what the hell happened, but he did know that if someone died, the last person in this town to do it would have been Eddie. He was sure of that. He squeezed the other hand before words started to fumble past his lips, little stories of nothing, tales and myths of little importance, just enough to silence the loud brain that Eddie sported. Steve listened to how his breath slowed, and to how the quivering stilled. The only constant that remained was the warmth shared between them and their hands clasped in one another.