Work Text:
To Do:
Fold the Laundry
Dust the foyer
Bring in the Patio Chairs
Mow the Lawn/ Weed the Flowerbeds
Wash the Dishes
At the end of the day, the list wasn’t even that difficult, that’s what really bothered Steve. Sure, mowing the lawn took about 2 hours, even with the brand new push mower that his parents had gotten, and the sun was beating a little extra hard on the August afternoon which made weeding an unbearable task, but it was something small he could do to earn a place in his home, at least that’s what his parents must have thought when they wrote the list. He cursed his mother’s tiny, cursive handwriting as he squinted at the note, trying to make up from down out of the swirling assault of letters. His head ached from the strain. He was so goddamn tired.
He could blame a lot on fatigue, but there was definitely something else going on. He took notice of it in the way he’d woken up in a cold sweat four out of the last seven days. He’d sleep for about two hours before his brain would become too loud, too staticky to ignore. Sleepless nights weren’t new for him, they were almost a comfort at this point, a companion in the large emptiness of his home. Except, right now his home was not empty. His dad was always involved in local government affairs, so right now he was enjoying being home and representing… someone… Steve wasn’t really paying enough attention to remember, and the sign in the yard was just out of his memory’s reach.
That was a whole other thing. His memory had been much worse lately. It wasn’t a ‘Old Man Steve’ kinda thing, forgetting conversations or names, but more so that he was losing chunks of time. One moment he’d be watching a movie, the next, he’d be laying on the floor, muscles sore, dizzy, and incoherent, with a headache that rivaled his rendezvous with Billy. He wasn’t dumb, despite popular belief, he knew something was probably horribly wrong, but maybe if he ignored it, it would go away. Kind of like his old sprained wrist, the one he’d gotten from tipping the chair in the Russian dungeon. Sure his wrist still got sore randomly, and maybe it clicked in a way it hadn’t before, but it wasn’t like it was something that could kill him. They were just another weird Steve Thing, a side effect of breathing the noxious air of the Upside Down. He chose to ignore the fact that it wasn’t happening to anyone else.
***
He never meant to fall asleep. He knew better, he really did, despite everyone and their mother thinking that he was nothing more than a high school has been with the intelligence of an infant. He knew that his list wasn’t done, that if his dad came home and saw him sleeping instead of doing his short list of chores, he would be toast. And yet… the couch was so inviting. The aged leather warming under his skin, lulling him into a dreamless rest. He was just so tired. His brain made the decision for him, as his eyelids fluttered shut.
Waking up was much more abrupt than falling asleep. With a choked gasp and a hand to his chest, Steve sat upright, unable to shake the uneasiness that had settled into his veins and called him home. He almost didn’t notice his dad, sitting in the lazy boy facing him, flicking through the pages of a magazine without ever actually looking at them, scowl deep and directed at Steve.
“My apologies,” Michael Harington’s voice was a growl on the best of days. “ I didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”
“Dad?” Steve shot off the sofa, wiping sweaty palms against his jeans. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize…”
“You know it’s interesting…” The man directed his gaze back to the magazine. “I came home and brought my coffee mug in to be washed, and what should I find but a sink full of dishes.” Steve couldn’t look away from the carpet. “And I thought, ‘Oh well that’s strange because I remember asking Steve to do those this morning.’ Odd right?”
“Dad I-” Steve faltered as his dad set the magazine down, leaning forward towards him.
“So naturally I go looking for you, thinking that maybe you were hurt or God forbid kidnapped,” Michael was really milking this one. He never cared when Steve actually was hurt or kidnapped, but he loved to use Steve’s guilt against him. “I checked the backyard, maybe you slipped by the pool and cracked your head open, and that’s when I noticed that the lawn was never mowed. Now I’m really thinking that you were dead, you couldn't have ignored two chores, right? So I come in here, looking to call the police and notify them of a missing person, and what do I find? My lazy adult son choosing to sleep all day while everyone else works hard to provide for his lifestyle.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll get it done now, I just-”
“Quiet!” Steve’s father held out a hand to silence him. “Have I spoiled you, is that what this is? It must be my fault, as your father. My father would have beaten me within an inch of my life if he found me like this. Then again, my father cut me off when I turned 18 so I wouldn’t have had the means for the luxury you do.”
“Dad, really I’m sorry.” Steve backed away from his father, noting the darkness in his eyes. “I’ll go mow the lawn and weed the garden, I’ll do the dishes, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect, I was just tired.” The knuckles grazed his right cheekbone as he turned toward the kitchen. Steve froze in place. His father couldn’t have..
“You have no right to be tired.” He growled, fists clenching in Steve’s shirt as he pulled him back towards him. “You work a minimum wage job and the rest of the time you sleep or party. What do you have to be tired from?”
“I-” Steve was cut off by the fist hitting it’s mark, a pained whimper replacing the rest of his sentence.
“Clearly my parenting methods didn’t work.” He shoved Steve to the ground. “Maybe it’s time to take a page from my old man.” He raised his fist again, smiling at the way Steve’s forearms raised in an attempt to block the blows.
***
“I’m just saying, if we all go in for the attack without trying to get information from any of the villagers, we could get ambushed.” Dustin whined, getting the feeling that no one was really listening to him. It was Hellfire night, a night full of much needed fun and revenge. Vecna was the primary foe they faced, each playing out a sort of fantasy of what they wished they could do to real Vecna. It was Erica’s idea, both surprising and not at all, and everyone quickly was on board.
“Decisions decisions…” Eddie purred with a smirk from his throne. His legs hung off the right armrest, body completely sideways from his inability to sit correctly in a chair. He didn’t need any convincing to return to his role of Dungeon Master, but he did take a little longer to come around to the campaigns. Dustin had filled in, rather expertly, in his absence.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to jump back in, but more that his doctors would not allow the ruckus in the hospital room. It took almost two weeks for him to finally be set free, his Uncle claiming he was only released because they were tired of scolding him. So he had a tendency to wander away during his daily walks down the hallway, so what? Yes he had wandered into the Pediatrics Unit, scaring 2 little kids with his wild eyes and blood dripping wounds but that was an accident that he felt terrible about. For a moment he wasn’t sure if those kids had somehow discovered his reputation, but upon them calling him a ‘boogeyman’ he realized it was just because he looked quite rough. He had tried apologizing, hushing their tears and trying to comfort them, but nothing was working beyond him distancing himself from the situation, so he walked away, collapsing at the elevator and being placed back into his bed with a shaking finger and an irritated brow.
“If you’re all just going to argue about this the whole time I’m going to have Lady Applejack turn around and go back to her luxurious life without you idiots.” Erica groaned, flag tied loosely around her neck. Eddie chuckled in her direction, watching the standoff between Mike and Dustin. It always was a bit of a power struggle between them.
“Ever since you started DMing, you think that you know more about this shit than anyone else.” Mike threw his hands up, ignoring the eyeroll between Dustin and Eddie. Dungeon Master was a prestigious role, not one to be disrespected.
“Well you’ve had a stick up your ass ever since you came back fro-”
“Enough!” Eddie pulled out a spray bottle, spritzing the two with a fine mist of water. “Jesus Christ it’s going to be midnight before you make a goddamn decision.” A slight exaggeration, given that it was only around 6 pm, but he was getting a headache from the constant arguing. “You both have been taking cheap shots at each other all night, leaving poor Lady Applejack here,” He gestured to Erica. “By herself to actually fight against Vecna.” Erica gave a smug smirk, sticking her tongue out at the boys. “Take 10, apologize to each other and to Erica, and get your shit together. This is supposed to be fun, remember that assholes.” With that, he pushed himself out of his chair with a groan, ignoring the concern that flashed across Dustin’s eyes.
Relearning to walk didn’t really take too long, considering that his leg muscles had been spared in the attack, but his abdominal muscles were shredded so things like breathing gave him intense pain at times. He was working on it each week with a nurse that he had charmed, one Claudia Henderson, and while it was much better than when he first was released from the hospital, his stomach was still quite tender. He walked to his fridge, grabbing a Tab cola from the shelf before shutting the door with a rattle. Hellfire had been moved to his living room, a way of easing him back into the action without pushing his body too hard but it quickly became a habit as Eddie had the trailer to himself after 4 when Wayne left for work and he was still a little spooked by the idea of being alone for too long, not that he’d ever admit it. His living room was connected to the kitchen, just a countertop separating them, so he could hear the ongoing argument as it continued, banging his head against the fridge door.
“You guys are without a doubt, the bitchiest teenagers that I have ev-” Eddie’s complaint was cut off by the door to his trailer opening and slamming shut, freezing him in his place. Who the hell was coming into his house? He grabbed the first thing he could reach, a frying pan, and popped out from behind the counter to find Steve holding his hands up defensibly, shrinking back in fear. “Jesus Christ Steve!” He exclaimed, hand gripping his chest. “A little warning would be great, maybe a fucking knock before you give my heart another reboot.” Steve had been the one who had gotten his heart to beat after the demobats, and had steadily been keeping it going ever since, occasionally causing it to miss a beat or two.
“S-sorry…” Steve panted, out of breath as Eddie shoved the pan back onto the Stove with a harsh metallic screech.
“Steve?” Dustin popped up from his seat. “What happened?” It was only then that Eddie’s brain allowed him to see the full picture. Steve’s cheek was bruised, and he was hunched in on himself. His lip was bleeding and his eyes held a wid fear in them.
“I um…” It was clear that Steve was caught off guard by the teenager. “I forgot about Hellfire, shit.” He backed up a step, ankle hitting the door. “Forget I was ever here and go back to your game.” He grabbed for the door knob but his hand was caught by Dustin.
“Steve.” Dustin breathed gently, it was the same voice he used with Eddie when he was dying. “Sit down, tell us what happened.” He pulled him towards a chair, Eddie coming in from behind, his brain fumbling as he tried to keep up with the situation. He pressed a hand to Steve’s back, a reassurance that he was there and that if need be, he’d hold him steady.
“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.” Steve groaned as he was pushed into the chair. “Just a bit of roughhousing, nothing to concern yourselves with.”
“You got your ass kicked again?” Dustin, who had been pacing, stopped and glared at him, his tone turning harsher with sarcasm. “What the hell did you do this time?”
“Moreso what I didn’t do,” Steve mumbled as he put his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples. “BUT that doesn’t matter, okay, so let’s just…” He trailed off, hands gesturing back to the miniatures on the table.
“You heard the man.” Mike scooped up the dice. “So we’re going to ambush-”
“Why are you here then, Stevie?” Eddie interrupted, causing Mike to groan in annoyance. “I know you’re not here for a DnD lesson and if it were nothing, you wouldn’t have been in such a hurry, right?” His eyes were trained on Steve’s split lip.
“W-well-” Steve sputtered, brows furrowed.
“He’s got a point, Stevie. ” Erica cooed at him, her tone heavy with mocking.
“We are never finishing the campaign.” Mike sank further into his chair. He glanced over at Steve, taking in his pinched expression. “Listen man, just tell them what’s happening so we can play our game. They’ll never relax if you don’t.”
“Nothing is going on!” Steve growled, irritation clear. “Jesus I’m leaving, sorry for the interruption.” He pushed himself up, purposefully ignoring the pins and needles feeling in his hands. He paused, glancing around with a look of disgust. “Whatever you’re cooking is long burnt by the way.”
“Are you fucking stoned?” Eddie’s face was a sight, a mix of confusion and irritation. The gaw of Steve Harrington to believe he would burn something. “I’m not cooking anything. You think I feed the gremlins on my night, like I’m their mom or something?”
“Comforting.” Steve deadpanned, looking around with his nose pointed slightly in the air, much like a golden retriever. “It seriously smells like burnt rubber dude. Get an air freshener or something.”
“Steve…” Dustin was staring at him closely, and Steve hated the expression on his face. “It doesn’t smell like anything other than old coffee in here. Are you having a stroke or something?”
“That’s burnt toast.” Eddie waved off Dustin’s comment before turning to Steve. “Unless you smell that too, fuck.”
“No I um…” Steve was suddenly having a really hard time keeping things in focus. “It’s-It’s not that…” It sounded like he was standing beside an airplane engine, air roaring in his ears. He couldn’t unscramble the words in his head as the thick feeling of fear overwhelmed him. No no no, not here, not in front of the kids.
“Hey, Steve, you’re kinda freaking us out dude.” Mike was slowly rising from his seat as he watched Steve’s eyes start to flutter. “Why’s your voice sound like that?” Steve’s words sounded garbled and disjointed, like he couldn’t feel them as they leapt off his tongue.
“Steve?” Eddie gripped onto his shoulder, he didn’t like the quiet, the quiet was worse, the quiet meant dead. Steve pitched forward very suddenly, stumbling into Eddie who was trying to support his weight as he went slack, ultimately failing as he lowered him to the floor with a surprised shout, supporting his head in his lap. “Steve?!” Steve’s body stiffened, thighs jerking as his muscles tensed. “Call 911!” Eddie shouted, hands on Steve’s shoulder as the spasms continued.
***
“I don’t know, he just came here all beaten up and started saying shi-stuff about the smell that no one else smelled and then boom! He fell and started shaking.” Dustin’s words were almost as frantic as his eyes as he watched Eddie rub gentle circles into Steve’s shoulder, brushing his hair back while muttering something. “Please just hurry! It’s been… how long Erica?” He shouted over his shoulder to Erica who stood beside Eddie, clutching the watch he’d ripped off his wrist.
“One minute and 7 seconds and counting.” She called back.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Eddie whispered against Steve’s ear. “Mike, do you have the pillow? It doesn’t matter which one, just grab one.” Mike hurried out of Eddie’s room with a flat pillow in a black pillowcase. It was lumpy and cheap, but it did the trick. “Wait holy shit he’s opening his eyes.”
“He’s opening up his eyes.” Dustin parroted into the phone. “Yes… Perfect, it’s the one across from the chain linked fence, the one with the big van.” He hung up the phone before turning back to Steve and Eddie. “They should be here, how’s he doing?”
“He’s awake but he seems super out of it.” Eddie locked eyes with Dustin. “Can you grab a mug, any of them it doesn’t matter which,” He gestured to the mugs hanging on the wall. “And fill it with some water? The handle will make it easier for him to hold. I’m going to try to sit him up, Erica let the ambulance person in.” Eddie helped pull Steve up, leaning him against the chair, pillow sandwiched behind his head. “You with us, Steve?”
Steve groaned in response, eyes screwed shut as he leaned heavily against Eddie. His muscles felt shaky and spent, like he’d just run from one end of the county to the other. A cold hand gripped his wrist, shocking his eyes open.
“Hey buddy…” A man in uniform smiled at him. “Seems like you’re having a pretty rough day, hmm?” Steve blinked at him, trying to process the question. “It’s alright, you don’t have to answer, I’m sure your brain is feeling a bit like a scrambled egg right now, I certainly wouldn’t be feeling chatty.” He turned to Eddie, who Steve only just realized was still holding him, asking him questions that Steve just couldn’t keep up with, his thoughts were trapped in the quicksand of his mind.
“He didn’t hit anything when he fell, those are from before coming here. He mentioned getting into a fight.” Eddie answered, sound filtering back to Steve, the man’s voice like violins in the prettiest orchestra.
“Do you know if this is the first time this has happened?” The EMT, Alex by the looks of his badge, asked.
“Him getting beaten up? That’s a shockingly regular experience for him.” Erica chimed in, feet dangling an inch above the ground in Eddie’s throne.
“Yeah it’s probably been like 4 times, right Dustin?” Mike rubbed at his neck, lips pursed.
“Uh yeah I think…” Dustin began counting on his fingers. “Jonathan, Billy,” He glanced over at Alex, choosing his words carefully. “Those Russian guys, and Henry. ”
“I actually meant the seizures.” Alex sighed, looking deeply disturbed. “As unsettling as that is, his injuries from the fight are mostly superficial, bruises and cuts. His ribs and cheeks took a lot of hits but he should recover fairly quickly, but the seizure is something I’m more concerned about.”
“Seizures?” Eddie tightened his hold on Steve’s forearm protectively.
“Isss not.” Steve’s muffled voice, slurred with exhaustion, called out.
“It’s not?” Eddie squinted down at him.
“The firs’ime.” Steve reached out with shaky hands for the cup of water that Eddie was holding.
“This isn’t your first seizure?” Alex asked with a patience that came from experience. “Do these happen often?”
“Yeah Jesus Steve, when the hell did these start?” Dustin didn’t even try to conceal the fear in his voice.
“Just…” Steve held up a hand as the teens assaulted him with questions, eyes shutting against the pain in his head. “Just give me a second guys.”
“Your voice is a lot clearer now.” Alex noted, shifting in his crouched position. “Does everything feel a little clearer now?”
“Yeah, it’s still kinda fuzzy though.” Steve breathed. “You… you asked me something…” Mike flashed a wide eyed look at Eddie, how could he have forgotten so quickly, but Steve noticed. “Sorry, I just-”
“No, that’s normal.” Alex assured him, holding his palms out to calm him. “It’s normal after a seizure to feel a little behind, like your brain can’t quite keep up, don’t worry. I asked if that was your first and you said it wasn’t, do you have them frequently?”
“I have had…” Steve looked up at the ceiling. “3 I think… It’s kinda hard to tell because I didn’t even realize they were happening.”
“Okay, I understand.” Alex was writing down information in a little booklet. “Do you know what could have triggered it?”
“I don’t…” Steve’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment. He knew he wasn’t the brightest but it was moments like this that really let it shine for everyone to see. If his body wasn’t so tired he would have made a mad dash home at this point. Maybe not home, but away from the concerned filled eyes and the sugar sweet coos of reassurance whispered in his ear. Good things, valuable things like that, always came at a cost and he was in no condition to pay it.
“That’s alright. A trigger is like a cause, so for some people it’s a flashing light, or a loud noise, and for some people it’s stress.” Alex patted his hand as he rose from his position on the floor, his radio beeping as a voice came through, words undetectable in the gargled tone.
“I think stress maybe…” Steve whispered. “I haven’t been sleeping well this week and then I had a fight with my dad, so maybe a little of both.” He ignored the soft, sad look that Eddie gave him.
“Okay that would definitely do it.” Alex gave a humorless smile. “You seem to be functioning fairly well, which is great. Unless you feel like it’s likely to happen again tonight I think you should be okay. Get some rest, maybe don’t drive if you are still driving, and definitely get in touch with a neurologist. They will have a lot more information for you, okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Steve reached out a hand to Dustin who gently pulled him into a standing position. His knees felt weak, the way they did when he hadn’t eaten for a while, and his head was still pounding. “Thanks for coming out.” He shook Alex’s hand before the man shut the door to the trailer, leaving silence in his wake.
“So…” He turned slowly, facing the group.
“That was so fucking scary man!” Eddie pushed at his chest gently. “You- Just don't…” He heaved a breath. “I know it’s not something you can help but…” He trailed off.
“I know… I’m sorry.” Steve stared at the floor before earring Eddie sigh, fingers lifting his chin gently to look deep into his eyes.
“No I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.” Eddie’s eyes were wide and sparkling. “You just looked so lifeless and then it was like something possessed you it was like-”
“Chrissy.” Steve finished. “Yeah I wish it wasn’t so dramatic, I can’t imagine what that little show must have looked like.”
“Steve, it's not dramatic.” Dustin groaned. “You had a seizure, give yourself some leeway.”
“For real, imagine if it was one of us, would you be thinking the same thing?” Erica raised her brows, taking in the silence as confirmation. “That’s what I thought.” Steve’s heart was pounding, his cheeks flushed, as he made eye contact with Eddie, a silent plea.
“Guys why don’t you just hang out here for a few, I need to talk to Steve for a few minutes.” Eddie glared at Dustin as his mouth opened. “Alone.”
***
“Can I get you anything?” Eddie sat on the edge of his bed, Steve beside him, while he fiddled with his rings.
“A new brain would be top notch.” Steve chuckled.
“I happen to like that brain,” Eddie smiled. “ I don’t like that it’s getting overwhelmed though, and I really don’t like that you were keeping it a secret from everyone.” Eddie mumbled, knocking shoulders with Steve. “I mean, shit, if you hadn't come here…”
“I know…” Steve sighed. “I didn’t realize it was so bad, I just thought it was something I’d be able to deal with.”
“It is something you can deal with, lots of people have seizures regularly, not that I’m trying to downplay it, but they deal with it by leaning on people. Everyone deserves someone to take care of them sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes met his. “You terrify me Steve. You’re strong in all the ways I always feel like I need to be. You’re brave and you never back down but the cost of that is that you feel alone. You’re not, not with me.”
“Okay.” Steve whispered, taking Eddie’s hand in his. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”
“Is that what you want? Do you want to talk to me about this, because I don’t want to be the asshole who bullied you into confession like some sort of twisted priest.” Eddie traced circles on the back of their entwined hands. “I want to listen, but I want it to be because you want to reach out to someone. If that’s not me, it’s okay, just please keep looking for your person.”
“Eddie…” Steve smirked. “Shut up.”
“Jesus, okay.” Eddie laughed gently as Steve pulled him into a gentle kiss.
“You’re definitely my person, but don’t tell Robin I said so.” He assured Eddie. “Now get ready, because I am going to make you regret asking me to talk about my shit.”
“I promise that I will never regret it.” Eddie booped his nose. “Is there anything you want to talk about, or should we wait?”
“My dad…” Steve sighed. How does one enter this conversation gently? “Mind you, this is going to totally kill the mood but um…” He winced. “He’s always been kind of an asshole, since I was young. He always went out of his way to correct my mistakes with a fist rather than a guiding hand. At some point along the way, I kind of just got used to it.”
“Steve, that’s… that’s really bad, is there any way to get out of that?” Eddie’s hand combed through Steve’s bangs, trying to keep him relaxed.
“No it’s not that bad, he’s actually gone most of the time, both my parents are, but when they come back they have a lot of opinions on my life. It’s more yelling now, the hitting was a lesson of sorts when I was young but now I know better so they just yell and save the physical stuff for when I really fuck up.”Steve said it as though it was normal, as if it was okay. “Really I should have known better, but I fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t finish the chores, so he got really upset. It’s not a big deal, it just was a little worse than usual today,”
“Babe that’s not okay.” Eddie sighed, eyes wide with pity. “And I know you’re not at a place right now to listen, but that stress led to you having a seizure. It’s not healthy for you to be in that environment, I think deep down you know that.”
“I guess…” Steve’s shoulders slumped.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you into doing something, but I really think you should at least talk to Hopper about it.” Eddie held up a hand before Steve could protest. “Just promise me you’ll think about it, for me?” Steve nodded gently, exhaustion drawn all over his face. “Now, do you want to take a nap here, or would you prefer the sofa?”
“The sofa…” Steve’s voice was soft with fatigue. “It’s, shockingly, too quiet here. I need music, noise, to fall asleep.”
“Well I’m sure I can arrange for some noise.” Eddie laughed, pulling him to his feet, not letting go of Steve's hand as he brought him out to where the kids were.
***
“I said we’d get ambushed, did I not?” Dustin hissed in anger at Mike, the latter looking away with an annoyed expression.
“That’s the name of the game, kids.” Eddie’s laugh bubbled out, filling Steve’s mind with blinding happiness. He nuzzled the pillow, sinking deeper into the sofa as his eyes closed. A record was playing, not a heavy metal one like Steve had been expecting, but one of Wayne’s. Between the warmth and exhaustion, sleep pulled gently at the edge of Steve’s mind. He drifted off to the sounds of dice and laughter, and a man’s voice singing softly.
“ You're waiting for someone to perform with. And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do-”