Chapter Text
When Steve Harrington was six years old, he told his mother he wanted to learn how to fly.
She laughed in the good natured way that mothers do when their young children present them with big news. He remembers the way she’d brushed back his hair out of his eyes, the tickle of her long fingernails against his scalp, the flowery and almost plastic scent of the overpowering and expensive perfume in the shiny pink bottle that his father had gifted her for Christmas.
“I’m sure you’ll be a great pilot one day, Stevie,” she’d said sweetly, and she’d kissed him on the forehead for one of the last times in his life that day. Steve had wanted to correct her. He wanted to fly - but not planes. He wanted to fly like Mary Poppins in the movie on television, or like Superman in the comic books.
“No, Mommy,” he insisted. “I don’t want to go on planes. I want to fly like Mary Poppins! Her umbrella is so cool!”
He remembers the pinched look on her face, the purse of her lips so tight that he could see the pink inside of her lip where the lipstick didn’t touch.
“Don’t be silly, Stevie,” she’d said. Her voice had sounded different but not. She didn’t sound happy anymore, but not angry either, and it had made him so confused. “You can’t fly without a plane. And Mary Poppins isn’t real, she’s just a character in a story. It’s fake, Steven. You're old enough to understand that all of that is just pretend.”
He remembers his father had been away on business that summer. He’d missed Steve’s birthday and the first day of school, but he’d come home for Thanksgiving. He had told Steve he was too tired when Steve tried to tell him about wanting to fly. He’d been so tired the whole time he was home, especially after he and Steve’s mother got into arguments quiet in the kitchen where they thought he wouldn’t be able to hear.
Tommy H. had been way more interested in Steve’s desire to fly. He hadn’t thought it was silly at all, but he told Steve that Superman was way cooler even though he had never seen Mary Poppins. That part didn’t bother Steve much. They’d taken turns jumping on Steve’s bed, then from the bed to the bean bag chair, and then they’d taken their flying adventures outside, where they’d taught themselves how to do cannonballs from the diving board of the Harrington family swimming pool.
Tommy H. never told Steve it was silly to want to fly. That’s one of the clearest memories Steve has from the summer he turned seven years old. Steve remembers that cool fall evening, when his mother had gone to bed with her big cup of red juice and he and Tommy were bundled up under a blanket fort in his bedroom, when he’d stopped crying that his dad hadn’t come home from his business trip, that he and Tommy had promised to be best friends for the rest of their whole lives.
When Steve Harrington was eleven years old, his mother started joining his father on business trips. That had been okay with Steve. His mother seemed sadder and sadder every day she had to spend with him. Steve hadn’t been sure at the time if it was because she’d missed his dad or because she couldn’t stand to be around him even a minute longer. Maybe it had been a little of both. She’d packed her suitcases and hired a nanny to stay with him on the weekdays to watch him after school and sleep in the guest bedroom and make sure he got to school on time.
Her name had been Angela and she had been nice at first. She was in her early twenties and Steve thought maybe she was the prettiest girl in the whole world. Angela had beautiful brown hair and she always made her bangs look so fluffy and her lips so shiny with pink gloss. She was always nice to Steve and ordered pizza for them to share every Friday. She’d even helped Steve with his homework when English started to get too hard and the words in all of his books started to jumble together, and shed taught him over several long, painstaking weeks how to memorize his multiplication tables. He’d told her one night over macaroni salad that he wanted to learn to fly someday, no matter how long it took or how hard it was. She’d smiled at him with that glossy pink smile and told him that sounded like a more fun thing to learn how to do that learning his multiplication tables. Steve had thought he would marry Angela someday.
Steve remembers the first time Angela brought a boy over. Her boyfriend Phillip had been nice at first, but Steve had never really liked him. He was a popular kid in high school; Steve could tell by his attitude, his worn letterman jacket that he still wore even though he’d been out of high school for several years, the way Angela fawned and swooned over him like they were both still teens. He’d tossed the football with Steve a couple times and stayed over most weeknights when Angela was there.
Steve hadn’t been there the first time Phillip had given Angela a black eye, but he’d been there for the aftermath. He’d been there to hold her hand as she sat curled on the bathroom floor in tears, and he hadn’t said anything when she had told him that Phillip was a nice guy and she just made him so mad. He’d just pressed his cheek into her shoulder and let her pet his hair as if he was the one who had needed comforting. He remembers how her manicured nails scraped against the spot above his ear, the smell of her sweat and the heaviness of her sadness that night.
When Steve Harrington was almost thirteen, Phillip pushed him off the window ledge in his bedroom. Steve remembers he’d finally talked to the counselor at school about how sad Angela was and how much he didn’t like Phillip and didn’t want him in his house. He had never learned what happened between the time he talked to his counselor and the time he was sitting on his window ledge, breathing in the coolness of the November air and listening to the crickets in the darkness of the forest. Angela had gone out to get them some ice cream. Phillip wasn’t supposed to be in the house, but he knocked on Steve’s bedroom door and let himself in anyway.
“Listen,” Phillip had said. He had looked more tired than anyone Steve had ever seen, and he was using that voice he always used with Angela when he was really mad. “Listen, you shouldn’t have said any of those lies to your counselor, kid. You’ve got the wrong idea here.”
“I don’t lie,” Steve had said. He knew he was supposed to say he was right. He was the adult and Steve was the kid. If his father had taught him anything in the limited amount of time he’d taken to raise him, it was that adults were always right and kids should always be quiet. Steve didn’t regret talking to his counselor at school, but he did regret that it had made Angela so sad.
Phillip had been so mad. He doesn’t remember a lot of what they talked about, but he does remember Phillip saying, “Angela told me once you were obsessed with flying like some little fairy. You still want to learn?” He remembers the feeling of his gut twisting, but he hadn’t known then that it was betrayal that made him feel so sick. He remembers laying in his yard and staring up at the stars, and he remembers Angela screaming and crying, and he remembers blue and red flashing lights.
He remembers that his mother and father hadn’t come home even though he had had to spend the night in the hospital. He remembers talking to his father on the phone and telling him he was almost thirteen now, which meant he was almost an adult, and he didn’t need Angela anymore. He remembers laying in the cot at the hospital and crying so hard that a nice old nurse had patted the fright blue cast on his arm and had given him medicine to go to sleep, and he remembers promising himself that he’d never tell anyone ever again about how much he wanted to fly.
When Steve Harrington was seventeen, after a year of romantic turmoil and the end of his friendship with Tommy H. that was supposed to have lasted the rest of his life and after swinging a bat full of nails at a literal monster that had come out of the walls of Jonathon Byers’ house and then swung it again at a bunch of monster dogs that tried to kill a bunch of kids in town, he drove to the quarry in the dead of night. He’d known, that night, that he shouldn’t have been driving. He’d stolen a bottle from his father’s prized liquor cabinet and had sat at the edge of the quarry for long enough that he’d forgotten what it was that had brought him out there in the first place.
“Steve, it’s Dustin. Do you copy?”
Steve could hear his friend’s voice, warbled and staticky, coming from the walkie-talkie on the floor in the passenger’s seat. He knew, even as he took another sip from the bottle, that he’d be doing himself more harm than good by not answering. Dustin was persistent like that.
“STEVE! It’s DUSTIN! DO YOU COPY?”
Steve doesn’t know long he sat at the edge of the quarry sipping on the bottle. At some point, he’d decided to pitch the empty bottle over the edge of the cliff, laughing into the night air as he watched it fly the way he’d always wanted to, down and down and down. He couldn't hear it land, but he could hear Nancy’s voice ringing in his ears. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Hopper had driven up when the sun started blooming over the horizon. Steve hadn’t said anything and Hopper hadn’t said anything, and Steve had wondered at that moment what it would feel like to fly right then, to feel the wind in his face and have the air all torn from his lungs as he flew off the edge of the quarry the way Mike had once, but without El there to save him.
He had thought that maybe he should have said something to Hopper about wanting to fly. Instead, he’d heaved his legs back over the edge of the cliff and rolled up to his hands and knees and then to his feet, trailing past Hopper to the police cruiser so he could be driven safely back to the empty house that he was supposed to call home. If he’d spent the night on Hopper’s couch one or two days a week after that, that was between him and Hopper, and no one else needed to know about it.
When Steve Harrington was eighteen, he got his first full time job, was captured and tortured by Russians, and made a real friend his own age for the first time since he was five. Robin Buckley was a breath of fresh air. She took monsters and Russian spies in stride and handled herself much better than he ever could in the years he dealt with all the craziness.
Robin was everything he ever wished he could be: smart and witty, tough and quick on her feet, protective and kind. She became a staple in his life immediately, and he reasoned that it made sense that a bond would certainly be established with those kinds of traumatic experiences. Robin fit into his life the way Angela had at first; she was kind and helpful and sweet. But she was also sarcastic, dramatic, and never hesitated to put him in his place. She was like the sister he never had and always wanted, and he was thankful for her every day.
“Earth to dingus,” she had said to him one night on the Byers’ back porch, watching the kids chase fireflies around. “Do you copy?”
“I’m alright,” he’d answered her. “Just thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” Her voice was raspy and quiet. Steve liked the way it sounded.
“Those fireflies,” he murmured. She pressed her shoulder against his. “You know when I was little, I always wanted to fly.”
“What, like Tinkerbell?” She’d asked, her eyebrows raised. She didn’t sound judgemental, just curious.
“No. Yeah. I don’t know. I always liked Mary Poppins,” he’d said. She’d hummed.
“You kind of are Mary Poppins to these kids,” she had said, nudging his shoulder. “The best babysitter they’ve ever had. Ever going to have.”
“I think she was a nanny, not a babysitter. And I don’t think she carried a bat full of nails in her magic bag,” Steve joked. He remembers fumbling around in his pocket for a cigarette. He’d lit it and passed it to Robin first. After a while, he’d said, “I haven’t told anyone that since I was a kid.”
He remembers the twisting in his gut at Angela’s betrayal of his secret and how he’d vowed then to never tell another soul. His anxiety must have read on his face because Robin had leaned into him then, her arm wrapped around his back and her chin hooked over his shoulder in an awkward hug. Steve remembers that moment very clearly because it was the first time someone had hugged him since he was eight.
Steve is twenty when he aids and abets a wanted murderer. Of course he knows that Eddie “the freak” Munson is not really a murderer, but it still feels like one of the most reckless things he’s ever done. Dustin is the one who drags him into the whole mess - because isn’t Dustin always the one dragging him into messes? But he goes along because he’s seen a lot of weird shit in his life and the idea of Eddie Munson being a murderer doesn’t fit into that narrative.
The thing is, Steve knows Eddie Munson. He and Eddie had had Chemistry and English together senior year, and while Steve had Nancy to help him squeak by with a passing grade for Ms. O’Donnell, Eddie had failed to graduate. Steve mostly forgot about Eddie after that; he’d had enough going on in his life with Nancy breaking up with him, scooping ice cream, and being tortured in a Russian lair under the Starcourt Mall.
He remembers when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike started high school and rekindled their interest in that dragon board game they always played when they were younger, and it was all because of Eddie Munson. The day the trio had sprinted into the video store all talking over each other about Hellfire Club and how cool Eddie was, Steve thought they had to be joking. No way was Eddie “the freak” Munson cool. He was right about that, but it didn’t stop the kids from idolizing the weirdo. They all started wearing their club t-shirts all the time, and Mike had even traded in his khakis for dark jeans and started growing his hair out the way Steve remembered Eddie’s always looking. At least Lucas was trying to not be a complete social pariah by joining the basketball team, and Steve was secretly pleased to hear that he’d made the team.
He should have known that they wouldn’t be able to go a whole year without some freaky shit going on in Hawkins. So he lets Dustin drag him to a drug dealer’s house to find Eddie curled up under a tarp in a fishing shed. Eddie holds a piece of broken glass to his throat, and it’s not the first time his life has been threatened but it doesn’t exactly get any easier. But of course Dustin is there to talk him down, and it’s weird to Steve how easily Eddie fits into their group.
Eddie, he thinks, is an enigma. He thinks he’s using that word right. Eddie is high strung and hyperactive and anxious and loud, but he’s beloved by the kids and even Nancy doesn’t bristle at his presence the way she used to when Tommy H. was around. He’s sitting with Eddie under Skull Rock, watching him chow down on the chips and candy and soda that Dustin had picked out at Melvald’s. Robin had tried to convince him to at least grab something like a package of Oscar Mayer bologna - “he’s a grown man, he needs protein or something!” - but Dustin was steadfast with his knowledge of what kinds of snacks Eddie liked from their time at Hellfire Club. Steve wonders now whether or not they should have listened to Robin.
Eddie slurps down the rest of his Coke and crushes the can in his fist. Steve hands him another silently.
“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles. He drinks this one slower, eyeing Steve warily.
“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened at the lake,” Steve says. “We shouldn’t have left the walkie-talkie downstairs at the haunted house. That was a dick move.”
Eddie sucks the orange dust from his first two fingers, crumbling the empty Doritos bag with his other hand and dropping it between his feet. He stops eyeing Steve long enough to dart his eyes to where Max and Lucas are huddled by the treeline, to where Robin and Nancy are awkwardly standing a few feet away, to where Dustin is pacing around the clearing with his busted compass in his hand. Steve chews his lip nervously as Eddie glances around.
“Could’ve made up for it by bringing that six pack,” Eddie says eventually. Steve looks at him from the corner of his eye. Eddie looks scared and exhausted and nervous, but he has that glint in his eye that Steve has seen before from Eddie. He’s joking, Steve realizes.
“No way, man,” Steve says. “It was bad enough lugging those Cokes while Dustin was trying to lead us on a wild goose chase through the woods to find you. He thought he knew better than me about how to find Skull Rock because he has his lame compass.”
Eddie snorts. “Not to boost your ego or anything, but I’m pretty sure people started coming out here because of you.”
“That’s what I said!” Steve says, a little pleased that his reputation isn’t completely tarnished by not going to college after all. He sometimes wonders what people think of him becoming a townie after being popular in high school - a total cliche life that sometimes keeps him up at night.
Eddie is looking at him in that wide-eyed way that Eddie looks at everyone. Steve’s never noticed just how big his eyes are, or how pretty brown eyes can really be. He remembers liking Nancy’s blue eyes. He still does, but something about the same wide, doe-eyed stare coming from Eddie instead of Nancy makes his stomach somersault.
Dustin bounds over with his theory about magnets and compasses and another gate which sends Steve’s stomach flip flopping in a decidedly less pleasant way. Everything happens very quickly after that, and he’s ultimately hopping last minute into a rickety old boat, shaking the water out of his shoe as the four oldest teens float toward the middle of Lover’s Lake. He feels a little bit bad leaving Dustin behind, but he’s safer on land than he is looking for a gate to the Upside Down at the bottom of a lake or anywhere else for that matter. Dustin is like the brother that Steve always wanted and never had; it makes Steve wonder sometimes if he wouldn’t have been so lonely in that big house growing up if someone else had been there to be lonely with him.
Eddie is sitting at the head of the boat, his hands clutched tight around one of the oars as Nancy examines the compass. Eddie won’t meet his eyes, but looking at him makes Steve wonder how he must be feeling. Steve has seen countless monsters in Hawkins, but he’s never seen anyone die, really. Eddie has seen two people die now, one only the day before and in the exact spot they’re headed to. Steve wonders if Eddie feels the same way about Lover’s Lake as Steve does about the swimming pool in his backyard. Does Eddie see Patrick out here the way Steve sees Barb in the deep end?
He’s a good swimmer, but, even if he wasn’t, he knows there is no way he would ever let one of the girls dive to the bottom of the lake. Eddie is looking so shell- shocked that Steve doesn’t even bother to ask. He just strips out of his shirt and shoes and takes a moment to glance up at the sky, to feel the wind and cool night air on his skin for what he hopes isn’t the last time, then dives down to the bottom of the lake.
Everything happens too fast after that. In one moment, he’s ready to heave himself back up into the boat to tell his friends about the gate. In the next, there’s something wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down and down and down even as he flails and struggles against the water, trying to get back to the surface. Sinking, he thinks, might be a little bit like flying, and maybe dying this way wouldn’t be so bad. But then he’s able to breathe again for the briefest moment before there’s a terrible cord around his neck, the thick, scaly skin of the bat-like creature’s tail choking the life out of him while tiny, vicious teeth tear at this sides, and he thinks that if this is really the end that it’s best that it’s him and not Robin, not Nancy, not -
Later, after Nancy has bandaged his abdomen with the torn hem of her sweater and Eddie has donated his denim vest for his modesty, he doesn’t know if he feels happy or not to be walking through the forest in the Upside Down alongside his friends. He wishes they hadn’t followed him and knows he’ll never be able to explain why his empty lungs and throbbing belly had given him the same freeing feeling that sitting at the edge of the quarry had all those years ago. Robin and Nancy lead the way, licking carefully over the hive-mind vines. Eddie is a step or two behind him.
He feels exhausted to his bones. Most of that is probably blood loss and open injuries, but still. It feels like his feet weigh ten tons each as they trek toward Nancy’s house. Eddie is hovering - there’s no better word for it. Steve can basically see the gears turning behind wide eyes and pursed lips.
The collar of Eddie’s vest smells like the sweet chemicals of his mousse, the earthy musk of patchouli, and harsh sweat from days hiding in fear. Steve can smell all these things even through the thick, acrid air of the Upside Down. He can smell it even more strongly as Eddie quickens his pace to match his step.
“I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie is saying, “but if I were you? I would get her back.”
Steve can feel his jaw working as he processes Eddie’s words. Ahead of them, Nancy and Robin are speaking softly as they dodge the vines. He thinks they’re probably far enough away that if he can’t hear them, they won’t be able to hear him either.
“It’s not like that between us,” he says eventually.
“That was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen,” Eddie insists. Steve frowns at him. Eddie’s wide eyes stare back at him, and Steve doesn’t know if he understands what Eddie is really trying to say.
“I loved Nancy,” he says. “Once. Before. She’s with Jonathan now. Jonathan Byers. Which is fine, because I think they’re happy, or at least she says they are. I just don’t have feelings for her like that anymore. Not that she’s not pretty or smart or one of the bravest people I know, you know, it’s just like - I don’t know, man. It’s not like it was when we were kids. You know?”
He thinks Eddie might know. Eddie isn’t a kid anymore despite his status as a third year senior at Hawkins High. Eddie elbows him gently.
“Yeah, I get it,” he says, “but if you try to tell me next that you and Buckley are an item -”
“No,” Steve interrupts. “No, no way. Strictly platonic. She’s - We’re just friends.”
“Right,” Eddie agrees, and he’s got a look in his eye that Steve can’t quite read.
“And anyway Robin isn’t exactly my type,” Steve says.
“Or youre not hers,” Eddie whispers. His wide eyes are boring into the side of Steve’s head. He can feel his cheeks heat up.
“Yeah,” he agrees awkwardly, “I mean, I guess. We didn’t really run in the same circles. And she’s weird, you know, I guess. Or something.”
Eddie smiles and leans in close to him. Steve can feel his warm breath on his cheek. His heart is beating very fast.
“Or something,” Eddie agrees quietly. Steve tries to meet his eyes but Eddie is looking at him and not looking at him. It takes him a moment to realize that Eddie is looking at his mouth instead of his eyes. “Yet here you are, King Steve, hanging out with the freaks and weirdos. So what about you, Harrington? Are you a freak? Are you weird or something?”
Steve swallows hard and Eddie raises his gaze to meet his. Eddie’s breath smells like the snack he’d scarfed down at Skull Rock, which is kind of gross, really. There’s something almost mischievous in his eyes. Steve feels his stomach flip again.
“I don’t know,” he admits. Eddie smiles widely, all teeth. He claps him on the back more gently than Steve really would have expected him to, which is nice since his back is torn all to shreds from being dragged by the demobats.
“Of all the shitty assholes in Hawkins, Harrington, I never expected you to be the one to surprise me,” Eddie says.
“Thank you? I think?” Steve says dumbly.
Much later, after they’re safely back in their own side of the universe, after Nancy is taken hold of and then released by Vecna, after he’s sure that everyone really is okay, Steve sits on the floor in Eddie Munson’s bathroom, his head between his hands, listening to the distant sounds of the kids bickering and Robin and Nancy trying to concoct some sort of plan. His stomach burns and his head aches and nothing at all about anything in the world feels okay, but he doesn’t know what to actually do about any of it.
Everything feels like too much at once. He’s exhausted to his bones. His chest feels wet and tight. Max is still in danger. Eddie is still in danger. He almost lost Nancy. He almost got killed by demobats like three hours ago. The whole world is going to end. And he’s just one guy; he’s just Steve Harrington, and what is he supposed to do about it?
Someone taps on the bathroom door. Steve grips his hair hard, trying to breathe evenly the way Nancy had showed him once. The door isn’t locked because what right to privacy does Steve really have in someone else’s bathroom that doubles as an active crime scene anyway? When it opens, Eddie squeezes in and shuts the door behind him. He sinks down next to Steve on the floor, their knees knocking together as he gets himself comfortable. Steve lets go of his hair and looks over at Eddie tiredly.
“You okay, Harrington?” Eddie asks plainly. His fingers tap rapidly against his knees.
“This is a stupid idea,” Steve says. “Going back down there - I know it’s the only way to save Max, but. But what if we can’t save her and we all die?”
“What if we don’t try and she dies? Would you be able to live with yourself?” Eddie asks.
Steve scrubs his hands over his face. “No. No, I wouldn’t. But if Dustin -”
“I’ve got Henderson,” Eddie interrupts. “Listen. I’ve got him. I’m not going to let anything happen to him. You and the girls get Vecna, I protect Dustin. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“I could’ve lost him last summer. He’s a little shit, but he’s like my brother, you know? And when the Russians had us and they said they were going to get Dustin, I really thought he was going to die and it was going to be my fault. He needs to be safe, Munson, can you understand that?”
“Russians and girls with superpowers,” Eddie mumbles. “Sure, what the hell. And yeah, Steve, I get you. I care about him too. He’s gonna be fine. I’ve got him.”
“And what if something happens to you?”
Eddie grins at him. “Well. If something happens to me, I guess I’m gonna need King Steve to come save the day. Think you can handle it?”
Steve swallows hard. “You guys never should have followed me through Watergate. You should have gone back to the kids.”
“And where would you be now if Robin and Nancy hadn’t saved your ass from the demobat swarm?” Eddie asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” Steve says.
“It doesn’t - What the fuck do you mean, ‘it doesn’t matter?’” Eddie demands. His eyes are no longer soft and sweet or even mischievous. He frowns hard at Steve, his eyes dark and his brow furrowed.
“I need you to promise me that you’ll get everyone home, no matter what happens,” Steve says.
“I will. That includes you,” Eddie agrees
“No, not me. If something happens to me, you leave me behind and make sure Dustin, Robin, and Nancy get home safely. I’m trusting you with them, Munson. Can I trust you with them?”
“You’re coming home too, Harrington,” Eddie says, jostling his knee again.
“I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect Nancy and Robin,” Steve whispers, “and I need you to promise me you’ll make sure everyone gets home.”
“I promise. And that promise includes your sorry ass, Steve. Okay?”
Steve meets Eddie’s eyes. Eddie reaches over and puts his hand over Steve’s on Steve’s knee. His fingers are cold like Nancy’s always are. Steve sighs.
“Okay.”
“Okay. Now, let’s go steal an RV, shall we?”
And steal an RV they do, which Eddie dismisses as just another charge on his rap sheet but to Steve is maybe one of the stupidest things they’ve ever done. He might have even backed out, but something about Eddie’s mouth so close to his cheek, those mischievous eyes, and the way he called him -
Steve’s stomach flips and he grips the steering wheel tighter. Dontcha, Big Boy? If something in his chest hadn’t been yearning for Eddie before, it certainly was now.
They narrowly avoid getting caught by that prick Jason and his goons at the gun shop. When they make it back to Hawkins, they park the RV in the clearing where Dustin had set up his Cerebro the summer before. Steve changes out of Eddie’s vest, carefully folding it and putting it in the bottom of his duffel bag. Robin takes time to help disinfect and wrap the bits on his stomach with the first aid kit Nancy had grabbed inside the store, and everyone puts on their battle gear and gathers their weapons. This is the part that Steve hates: splitting up. But Lucas, Max, and Erica get dropped off in front of the Creel House, and the rest of them make their way back to Eddie’s trailer to go back through the gate to the Upside Down.
They wish each other good luck. It feels like too little, to Steve, but he hugs Dustin tightly and hopes it won’t be the last time he gets the chance. Maybe they can all make it out, like Eddie said. Or maybe they won’t, like Robin thinks. Steve doesn’t know where exactly he lands with hope anymore.
“Gonna wish me luck, too, Harrington?” Eddie asks as Dustin, Robin, and Nancy hurry inside the trailer. Steve grabs his bag out of the trunk and sets it on the ground.
“Yeah. Good luck man,” Steve says. Eddie grins up at him with all those teeth. He’s standing too close again, the way Eddie always does. It’s like he has no idea about personal space. Steve looks down at him, just barely, only a few inches taller.
“You too,” Eddie says. Steve watches his mouth form the words, his heart beating hard against his ribs.
It suddenly feels hard to breathe, but not in the terrifying way that it had been with a demobat’s tail snaked around his neck. This shortness of breath feels thrilling. He thinks his brain nearly short circuits when Eddie’s hand claps him on the shoulder, his thumb hooking into the collar of his jacket. Eddie’s hands are cold but Steve’s skin feels scorching hot.
“We’re gonna be okay,” Eddie says quietly. Steve nods. He’s still watching Eddie’s mouth.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“All of us freaks and weirdos,” Eddie murmurs. He’s smiling still, in a secretive sort of way that makes Steve feel like he can see right through him.
He doesn’t know why, but he pulls Eddie into a hug, then. Eddie’s arms wrap around him and he can’t see Eddie’s mouth now, but he can feel it pressed against his neck. Eddie’s hair is soft and a little greasy. It smells the same as the collar of his denim vest had. He starts to pull away, but Eddie stops him with a hand on the back of his neck before he can get too far.
“Let’s go give them hell,” he whispers, and Steve doesn’t have time to move or speak before Eddie’s lips press against the corner of his slack mouth, and then Eddie is gone, rushing up the trailer stairs and disappearing inside.
Steve stares after him for a moment. Then he picks up his bag and follows, his heart hammering and his stomach rolling.
They don’t kill Vecna.
Steve is still unclear how it all happens. One minute, he’s sure the three of them are goners, pinned to the wall with vines and slowly suffocating. The next, they’re free, and he and Robin hurt Molotov cocktails at the bastard while Nancy takes him out with her sawed-off shotgun. Steve thinks they really did it, but when they get outside, there’s no sign of Vecna except for the scorched earth he left behind upon his escape. They hear the four chimes and Nancy whispers Max’s name, and Steve feels like his heart disappears from his body with the knowledge that one of his kids is gone and they failed her after all.
They hurry back to the trailer on the bikes. Steve knows the closer that they get that something is wrong. Even as far out as the main roads, they should be able to hear Eddie’s guitar. If he’s not playing, that means he and Dustin either had yo make an escape, or something went wrong. Steve hopes they escaped, at first, but he knows as soon as he sees Dustin kneeling on the ground that that is not the case.
Steve dumps his bike so quickly that he almost falls down with it. He strips off his bag and runs full tilt toward Dustin and Eddie, kicking up earth and vines behind him. Dustin looks up at him with tears all down his face, and Steve has never seen brave Dustin look so helpless.
“Steve,” Dustin sobs. Eddie’s eyes flicker open. His eyes are glassy, staring straight up at Dustin.
Steve drops to his knees in front of them, his hands shaking hard as he flutters them over Eddie’s chest, searching for the source of all the blood around them. He finds it on Eddie’s abdomen, all torn to shreds the same way Steve’s had been, but Steve can tell even in the dark that Eddie’s injuries are much worse than his.
“Let me take him,” Steve demands. His voice sounds much more confident than he feels. Eddie’s glassy eyes find his. “Hang on, Munson. I’m getting you out of here.”
“King Steve,” Eddie murmurs. Blood leaks onto his chin.
“That’s right. Saving the day, just like we said,” Steve agrees. “Dustin, help me get him up.”
Dustin, it turns out, is injured too. His knee nearly gives out the second he tries to get to his feet, but Robin and Nancy have caught up by then. It takes both of the girls’ help to get Eddie to his feet, but then Steve has the rest under control. He gets Eddie up across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, ignoring Eddie’s pained screams and his hot blood on Steve’s shoulders. They run back to the trailer and Steve doesn’t have time to process that the rope is gone - the fucking rope is gone - before Robin and Nancy start stacking chairs and tables strategically to make a ladder for them to climb.
He doesn’t know how he manages it. He has heard stories about people with unimaginable strength in times of crisis - how panicking mothers can lift entire cars to save their babies - but it all seemed like myth before. Now, with Eddie’s dead weight across his shoulders, Steve heaves them both up onto a table, holds Eddie’s leg tight with one hand while the other climbs the furniture tower to get them as close to the gate as he can, and pulls them both up to the hole in the ceiling. He claws at the edge, feeling his fingernails creak as he pushes his body up, and he can feel himself screaming with the exertion, his shoulders tense and threatening to give out until a moment later, when Eddie’s weight is gone entirely. Steve looks up in time to see Eddie land hard on the mattress, sputtering blood as he coughs and tries to regain his breath.
Steve grabs the edge of the gate and pulls himself through the hole next, flinging his body weight to the side so he lands hard on the floor instead of the mattress, where Eddie is still lying breathless. Dustin is still screaming but Steve tries not to listen. He wants to help but he needs to focus on Eddie first. He pulls Eddie off of the mattress and mostly into his lap so that the landing pad is clear for the rest of them to come through. Eddie grins up at him, his mouth all bloody.
“You’re stronger than you look,” he says.
“You’re heavier than you look,” Steve bites back. “Just hang on, okay? We’re gonna get you some help.”
Dustin lands hard next to them and then scrambles over on all fours.
“Eddie! Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin’s hands fumble to cover the wounds and Eddie’s body seizes in pain, but Steve holds him fast so Dustin can continue to apply pressure.
Robin lands next. Steve holds his breath, then, waiting and praying for Nancy - and then she’s there too, almost landing right on top of Robin.
Someone is banging on the door. That seems crazy to Steve, since half the fucking trailer is just gone, all smoldering rubble and the acrid stink of the Upside Down. Flashlight beams break through the gaps in the blinds, and he can see flashing blue lights outside, too. Steve hooks his hand under Eddie’s head, angling him so he can look him in the eye.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Steve tells him.
Eddie smiles that toothy smile, his teeth all stained red. “Whatever you say, Harrington.”
Steve resists the urge to shake him. “You have to,” he insists. “Listen. Listen. Stay with me Eddie.”
“Eddie,” Dustin pleads. His hands are still pressed hard over the wounds on Eddie’s belly. Eddie gurgles out a wet chuckle.
“I’m gonna graduate,” he says quietly.
“Yeah. You are, you’re gonna graduate because you’re gonna be fine,” Steve insists. “All the freaks and weirdos, right Eddie?”
He barely notices Robin’s hand on his shoulder or the way Nancy budges up close to Dustin, her tiny, cold hands covering his and adding extra pressure to the wounds. The flashlights beams are still flickering around the trailer. The door finally bangs open, but Steve doesn’t take his eyes off of Eddie’s.
“This is still a crime scene - what the hell?”
“Help,” Steve whispers. Eddie’s big, wet eyes don’t leave his. “Help him. Help, please.”
“Back up - move out of the way -”
“Wait!”
“Get a bus in here.”
“No, stop -”
Steve barely registers anything going on around then because Eddie’s eyes have glazed over, just a little, his gaze unfocused. Steve does shake him then, and Eddie’s eyelids flutter.
“Hey, you have to stay with me,” Steve barks. “Come on, Eddie, you can’t leave me like this, not after - No! Don’t fucking touch me!”
Hands are on his shoulders, pulling him away. Hands are on Eddie, pulling him the opposite direction. Steve nearly goes blind with the fear of it, thrashing against the hands on him. Arms wraps tight around his torso from behind and he can feel warm breath on his neck.
“Steve, Steve, let them,” Robin whispers. Steve stops struggling and Chief Powell let’s go of his arm. Steve wonders when he got there. There are police and paramedics next to Eddie now, and Steve can’t see him anymore.
Powell is looking up at the gate to the Upside Down. Steve doesn’t know how they’re going to explain that, but he immediately decides it’s not his problem because he’s more concerned about Eddie - and now Eddie is being lifted onto a stretcher and taken outside. Robin releases her bear hug in favor of hooking her hands under his armpits and heaving him up to his feet so they can follow, and no one tries to stop them until they make it to the ambulance that Eddie is being loaded into.
“Can’t let you ride along,” the paramedic says.
“Hey! Hey, we have questions, you kids aren’t going anywhere!” Officer Callahan interrupts. He looks more frazzled than usual. Steve watches as the ambulance drives away, the siren blaring and the lights strobing through the darkness.
Steve is twenty years old. He is standing in the middle of the street in Forest Hills trailer park. The air is full of smoke and death.
“Max,” Nancy whispers.
His heart thunders against his ribs. Max is one of his kiddos. He can hear the roaring of the four chimes in his ears. His legs give out.
Steve doesn’t know what happens next.