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Steve practically ripped his body away from Eddie's when he heard the shriek. His mothers shriek, more specifically.
Him and Eddie had been watching a movie. It was still playing quietly in the background as everything went to shit.
At some point, about ten minutes into the movie, Steve had gotten distracted by Eddie. His rings, his hands, his clothes, his hair— which was in a goddamn bun. He was beautiful
But back to the task at hand. Steve's parents caught him straddling Eddie— a man— and making out with him, with his hair a mess, cheeks pink, lips red, and his belt unbuckled for gods sake.
"Fuck." Steve started to buckle his belt and fix his hair as he turned to his parents. "Mom, Dad, it isn't what you think it is."
"Really?" his mother asked, her voice cracking as her eyes filled with tears. "Because it looks like my son is a faggot." She raised a hand to cover her face as she started to sob.
Steve's father crossed the room in three angry strides and pulled back his fist to punch Steve in the face. The force of the punch knocked Steve back onto the couch.
"Hey!" Eddie yelled as he stood up and pushed Steve's father away from him. He retaliated by gripping the collar of Eddie's shirt with both hands, shaking in rage.
Steve forced himself of the couch and pushed his way in between them. "Do not fucking touch him," he said dangerously to his father.
"I am entitled to do whatever I want to a faggot who's in my house." His father tried to spit on Eddie but Steve was in the way, so the saliva ended up on his sock covered foot.
"Get out."
"Wha— Steve?"
Steve turned to look back at Eddie. "Get out. Leave. Go."
"No." Eddie stood his ground.
Steve bent down to grab Eddie's keys from where they had fallen to the ground. The whole house hung silent for a moment. "Get. Out." Eddie stood silently, shaking his head slightly.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Steve yelled as he forced Eddie's keys into his hands. "GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT." Steve punctuated each shout with a shove to Eddie's chest, pushing him towards the door.
He pulled the door open and gestured to Eddie for him to leave.
"Stevie," Eddie said quietly, his heartbreak shown through one word.
"Eds. Please?" Steve asked, voice tired and empty— he was tired and empty.
Eddie looked down at his shoes in shame. Steve didn't feel right making Eddie feel like that. Steve should be the one full of shame. It's all his fault. If he had just resisted the sin even though it tasted so sweet. If he had just heard his parents car in the driveway. If he hadn't been a slut who needed attention to breath for one second. If he hadn't been dirty and disgusting. If he hadn't been too annoying for his parents to love.
"Go. I don't want you to get hurt too," Steve said softly, taking his whole soul and being and putting it into those words.
He pushed on Eddie's back gently, watching as he finally made it outside the house. Steve slammed the door shut before Eddie could change his mind and come back in.
There's not much Steve remembers after that. He can remember watching Eddie through the door for a second. Then his father called him over. He remembers his father taking his belt off and swinging it in a angry and hateful arc.
Steve remembers pain.
On his back. On his stomach. And his face. And his fists as he tried to punch back but couldn't see through the bruises and blood and ended up punching the floor over and over until his knuckles bled. His heart hurt.
Steve remembers screaming and crying and the final breaking of an already broken family. He remembers shouts to get out and never return.
Right now, the memories are a haze, the only clear things about them are the pain they left and the fear he felt as it happened.
He comes back into awareness as he's driving. There's blood on his hands and its smeared all over the steering wheel and his clothes and he can't see through one eye because of the blood.
Steve slams on his brakes in the middle of the road. He makes it two feet out of the car before he kneels over and vomits.
There, in the middle of the street in the middle of the night on his hands and knees as he throws up, Steve knows that this is the darkest point in his life.
There's blood mixed with the vomit, and Steve vaguely wonders if its from the blood all over him or from internal bleeding. They're both bad outcomes and Steve can't figure out which is worse.
Steve crawls back to his car and leans against the side of it, sticky from blood, vomit and sweat. He doesn't think as he stares at the sky with his back to the car.
Eventually Steve realizes that it's the middle of the night and he's surrounded by woods and he's alone and weak and vulnerable. Anything or anyone could have snuck up on him and done whatever they wanted before Steve would even turn to look at them.
He quickly gets back in the car and is about to start driving before he realizes that he has nowhere to go. Steve finds a street sign and figures he must have been on his way to Eddie's. In the haze of fear, pain and confusion, he must have been subconsciously seeking safety.
Steve continues on his way to Eddie's. He doesn't have any other options, really. He certainly isn't going to show up to one of the kids houses like this. And he might not make it through the night— and not just because of the wounds— if he doesn't go somewhere. Steve wipes blood from his forehead as he drives to see.
When Steve finally pulls up to Eddie's trailer, he has barely opened the door before Eddie is barreling towards him. Eddie drags him out of his car to hug him and squeezes him so tightly that Steve whines from the pain in his ribs.
"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie says as he pulls away.
Steve starts to shakily walk forward and Eddie sucks in a breath as his face comes into the light. "Holy shit, Steve, your face," he gasps in horror.
"'M I not pr'tty anymore, Ed's?" Steve's voice starts to slur as he talks.
"No, no, you're always pretty, sweetheart," Eddie reassures as he tries not to panic. He's quick to rush Steve inside.
Wayne's sitting there waiting as they come in. He has been up and waiting since Eddie came home in tears.
"Goddamn," Wayne breaths as he gets up to help lead Steve to the couch.
"'M tired," Steve whines, beginning to shut his eyes.
"No sleeping yet, boy," Wayne orders him as he snaps in Steve's face.
Steve's eyes snap open. "Sorry, sir," he says, shame filling him as he stares at Wayne's boots.
"Do we have any bandaids?" Eddie asks his uncle desperately.
Wayne thinks for a moment, then curses under his breath. "No, shit. Get an old shirt."
"I've g't a first aid kit in my tr'nk."
"What was that, Stevie?" Eddie asks, rushing to Steve's side.
"Kit. Tr'nk."
"You've got a first aid kit in your trunk?" Wayne asks him.
Steve stares at him for a moment, his injured head slowly processing the words. He nods slowly eventually.
"Eddie, get the kit. Then painkillers. Got it?"
"Yep!" Eddie rushes out of the trailer.
Wayne sits down on the coffee table and faces Steve. "Kid," he says slowly and clearly. He waits until Steve looks him in the eye to continue: "I can see you've got a nasty cut on your head, but I need to know if you're hurt anywhere else."
He watches as Steve's arms make a vague gesture towards his stomach. "Your stomach?" The kid nods. Wayne starts to slowly pull his shirt up and resists the urge to throw up.
The kids stomach is covered in bruises and old scars and new scars, too. He sucks in a breath as Eddie come crashing back into the trailer. Eddie dumps the kit on Wayne's lap as he rushes off to get the pain killers.
Wayne opens the kit and is relieved to find that it's more than just bandages. It's bruise cream, gauze, anti-bacterial, thread, needles, scissors, and ice packs.
He rips open a anti-bacterial wipe and starts to clean the cut just above Steve's eyebrow. He's relieved to find that, with most of the blood surrounding the wound, the cut isn't as bad as he thought it was. It will still need stitches, though.
"Eddie, you got the painkillers?"
"Yep." Eddie appears next to him with two pills in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He puts the water down on the table.
Eddie picks up one of Steve's hand with his empty one. He places the pills into Steve's open hand as he gets his attention. "Steve, these are pain killers. You're going to take them, okay?"
"'Kay, Ed's." Steve is so trusting as he takes the pills with a small smile as he looks at Eddie, that it makes his heart hurt. He's looking at him so sweetly and Eddie would love nothing more than to take all Steve's pain away. Eddie hands the glass to Steve, who gulps the water down greedily.
"Steve." Wayne had prepared the needle while Steve took the pills. "That cut on your head, I've got to stitch it up, got it?"
"Shit, okay, just do it," Steve says, sounding the most lucid he has all night. He clenches his fists and his eyes closed.
"What should I do, Wayne?" Eddie asks, hovering between them.
"Just hold his hand or something, Jesus. This is gonna hurt like hell," Wayne adds quietly, hoping Steve won't hear it.
"Alright." Eddie sits down on the couch next to Steve. He unclenches one fist for Eddie to hold. They both grip onto each other tightly.
"Relax your face for me, son."
Steve relaxes his eyes as he tries not to panic.
"Alright, now take a deep breath in." Wayne positions the needle to start. He waits until Steve starts to breathe in then pushes the needle through. Steve squeezes Eddie's hand harder as his body tenses.
"Now out." Wayne pulls the rest of the thread until it catches on the knot. "Good. Now keep doing that."
"So, how'd you get like this?" Wayne asks. He knows what happened to make Eddie come home in tears, but he needs Steve talking so he doesn't focus on the pain.
"My dad."
"Yeah? I went to school with your daddy. Real asshole."
Steve starts to laugh but stops almost immediately from the pain in his stomach.
"H'w do y'o kn'w h'w to do th's?" Steve asks between sharp breaths.
"Eddie's goddamn terrible at skateboarding, that's why."
"It's hard!" Eddie tries to reason as he laughs.
Steve's able to manage a small smile from their banter. "Y'u sh'uld g't M'x to te'ch y'u."
"Maybe I should," Eddie muses.
Wayne finishes the stitches and ties them off. He get the scissors to cut of the remaining thread. "That's it, were done."
"R'lly?"
"Yep. Just gotta bandage it then check out your stomach."
" 'Lright."
Wayne puts ointment over the stitches, then some gauze, then finally sticks a band-aid over it all. He goes to take Steve's shirt off, but realizes he can't even raise his hands above his head.
"How much you care about this shirt?"
"N't m'ch."
"Alright."
Wayne cuts Steve's shirt off of him. He puts the cream from the kit over Steve's bruises. Wayne ignores the anger in Eddie's eyes as they lean Steve forward so he can get to his back. Once he was done, he wraps gauze around Steve's torso, because despite the lack of blood, the vivid pinkness of some of the scars scares him.
Wayne pats both of Steve's knees when he's done. "Alright, Steve, that's it."
Steve looks up at him through half lidded eyes. "Th'nks, s'r."
"Call me Wayne."
Eddie gets up so they can pull Steve to his feet. He starts to lead Steve to his room.
"Eddie." Eddie turns around to look at his uncle.
"Yeah, Wayne?"
"Don't let him sleep for more than an hour at a time, he probably has a concussion."
"Got it." Eddie nods and takes Steve into his room
Eddie shuts his door softly behind them. He sits Steve down on the side of his bed. He turns his lamp on and turns to his dresser to get clothes out. He drops the clothes on top of the dresser and turns to help Steve to his feet. Eddie slings Steve's arms around his shoulders and supports his body as he helps him get changed.
He leaves Steve's dirty pants on the floor and led him back to bed. Eddie pulls the covers away and helps Steve get in and climbs in after him.
Steve snuggles close to Eddie as the man wraps his arms around him, careful to not jostle his injuries.
Eddie takes Steve's hand in his and starts to stroke slowly back and forth with his thumb.
Steve did not cry as his father beat him. Steve did not cry as he was kicked out from his home and told to never return. Steve did not cry as he sat in the street a broken man. Steve did not cry as he was stitched back together. He did not cry.
Not until he is in the safety and darkness and warmth of Eddie Munson's bed, does Steve Harrington start to cry.