Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Well, what if I love you?” Steve snapped. His voice was straining against the thick ball he felt stuck in his throat, yet even then he never took his eyes away from Eddie. He didn’t care if he sounded stupid or desperate, he didn’t care if he made no sense, he didn’t care if Eddie thought he was crazy, he only hoped he felt the same and, besides, it just felt nice to say it aloud. Steve never even admitted this to himself. That flustering feeling of bees swarming in his chest at just the sight of the other, the way the corners of his mouth managed to perk up at just the other’s name being said, the drowning sensation in his head whenever the other calls him those stupid names or drew that stupid smile he kept just for him, the way his stomach plummets faster than light itself whenever the other touches him; he never wanted to acknowledge it.

But now he does, and he is, right now with Eddie, to Eddie. The backs of his eyes stung and he swallowed the imaginary spit in his dry mouth. The TV or lamp or some kind of electricity must be whining because this ringing was swallowing everything he could hear. Eddie shook his head slightly and his eyebrows fused together, he forced a smile to push the frown that was emerging down, his mouth hung slightly as he sighed before he spoke.

“It’ll pass.”

He stood in front of a body-length mirror messing with his hair, the sound of his suit rubbing against itself whenever he moved his arms and soft grunts of irritation was all that could be heard before Dustin piped in.

“Look, Steve, just leave it, you’ll be fine! No one will even notice!” Dustin was wearing a black suit and necktie making him look similar to Steve, the only difference being the teenager was wearing a badge of the band Metallica’s logo on the collar of his suit.

“I can’t just leave it, Dustin, I don’t know what’s wrong with it!” Steve continued to prod and pull at his hair.

“Well, what hair products did you use this morning?” The teen questioned.

“I didn’t use any!” The taller man dropped his hands to his side and looked the other in the eye.

“What? How?” He reached up for the older boy's hair, but it was swiftly swatted away.

“I don’t know! I didn’t do anything to it, I just woke up with my hair looking perfect and no matter what I do to it, it just won’t stop looking like I've done some kind of professional shit, and everyone will think I made myself up for my best friend’s funeral!” He turned to the mirror and continued to fiddle with his hair with a grumble.

It was Eddie’s funeral. Well, not really a funeral, they couldn’t do an official funeral as being a town’s enemy and supposed murderer makes it hard for anyone to do anything normal for you, even when you're dead. Especially if you’re dead. It was just a private ceremony that Steve offered to do at his house for the group. As soon as Steve told Dustin what he was planning to do for their friend at his house, Dustin took that as an invitation to plan absolutely every detail of the event. Everyone had to wear all black, as if they had come back from an actual funeral for the afterparty, though Steve tried to argue with the young boy, he ended up having to give in and realise Dustin was very stubborn with his idea for Eddie's… Whatever this is. 

The friend’s death hit Dustin hard. Obviously it would, he treated the man as if he was God himself, but it still didn’t change the sour feeling it gave Steve to see his once energetic, bubbly friend become so apathetic. He began to miss his sly, egotistical jokes, if that was even possible.

It hit everyone hard, to be totally honest. Even Nancy and Robin behaved differently, and they weren't even that close to the man. Robin was less talkative, it was so much harder to excite her to that level of rambling. Nancy was less observational. She was nowhere near as aware of her surroundings as before, she was just, kind of… Staring. Eddie’s death did draw them to become closer, they began to become best friends too, funny considering the awkward aroma that smothered them when they first met.

Max was still in her coma, so Steve and Dustin told Lucas and Erica they wouldn’t mind if they didn’t show, but Erica insisted and decided she was going to drag Lucas away from Max. Eleven was there to look after her in his absence (as if she wasn't there for her as much as possible anyway). 

Lucas got very paranoid after everything happened. He would always become twitchy at the thought of Max waking up to see no one by her side, her mother would rarely come see her as she “couldn’t bear” to look at her daughter that way. This irritated Erica to a whole different level, but Lucas gave her a look as to say not to bother, and for once in her life, she listened to him. They had an unspoken agreement to never talk about it, but Erica was always behind her brother recently. As soon as he even looks as though he's about to have a paranoid outburst, his sister is automatically at his right hand. They’d never been closer than before, but, God, the way they got here sucked. That’s why Erica was able to convince Lucas that Max will be fine if he stays away from Max for at least a few minutes.

Mike was confused. He didn’t really know where to go from here. He looked up to Eddie an embarrassing amount, he adored him, and he wasn’t even here to say goodbye? He didn’t even have a chance? Will was trying to help him out as much as possible, but the grief got Mike good and wasn’t shaking him anytime soon. His mood swings were more common than before, and he was snappy and grumpy, but most of all he was constantly in a bit of a daze, just like Dustin. Nancy even tried to get Mike to talk to her, but he wouldn’t budge. The only person he’d have a conversation with that lasted more than a minute was with Will.

Steve, well. Steve was absolutely ruined. One of his best friends for years was ripped away from him, of course he’s ruined. Did he let people know that? Of course not. He was the one everyone confided in, how could he let them down by being a mess also? There was no time for that. Anyway, his dad punched it in him (both literally and metaphorically) that Harrington men don’t cry. They stand tall and get on with it, just like real men do. How could he deny what he was raised to be? An emotionless, self-assured… Pathetic excuse of a man.

“Oh, what the hell? Your hair looks amazing.” Robin’s voice snuck into the room, which was received with Steve reaching one arm towards her while looking at Dustin with a face saying ‘I told you so’. She was wearing black trousers and a black button up with black suspenders, not entirely funeral wear, but it was very Robin and that’s all that mattered.

The young man turned back to the mirror and grasped handfuls of his hair, “I’m going to look like a complete jerk!” He whined.

“You’re not-..." Robin stifled a laugh, "You’re not going to look like a jerk!” A few giggles escaped her lips.

“Don’t laugh!” Steve’s arms slammed to his side as he turned to look at her and his fists curled into a ball.

“It’s okay!” Robin laughed walking over towards her friend.

“It’s not okay!” His body turned back to the mirror where he could see Dustin observing the two with a smile. It was nice seeing him smile.

“Look, if you just-” The girl reached her hand up towards his hair multiple times, failing each try with Steve successfully hitting them away.

“Oh, get off!” He yelled, with no real anger behind his words, and Robin being his best friend knew that, “It’s unsalvageable!”

The girl froze for a second, “Unsalvageable? You know what that word means?” She asked with genuine confusion in her voice, and, boy, Steve felt sooo flattered. 

“Yes, I know what it mea-” He was cut off my the teenager in front of the both of them.

“I told him what it meant.” Steve was about to complain at Dustin's admission before he saw the wide smile on his face. It was such a rare thing to occur nowadays, seeing him smile like that, genuinely having fun, so whenever it happened, Steve took it and held it deep in his heart. His genius little brother that he never had.

They all spent a few more minutes trying to mess Steve’s hair up and when it became semi-funeral presentable, they gave in and decided that was as good as they were gonna get. The curse of having perfect hair is that when you’re not allowed to look as good as you usually do and you’re meant to look wrecked and ruined, it's hard to make it imperfect. It always trips itself back into that gorgeous mould.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you earlier, I came in because Nancy called and said she was on her way with Mike and Will.” Robin sat on the side of Steve’s bed facing the window.

“Will? Will’s coming?” Dustin asked, sitting on Steve’s pillows, his back resting on the head of the bed.

“Yeah, he’s coming to be here for Mike. Well, you guys too, obviously, but, you know... Is that okay?” She turned to the teen and he nodded.

“No, of course it’s okay, I just didn’t think he’d come, is all.” He stood from the bed and stretched the rolls of his trousers out with his hands, “I’m gonna go downstairs and check if everything’s okay.”

Leaving Robin and Steve alone in his room, Dustin kept to his word and wandered to the floor of Steve’s house. Steve's room had changed a lot in a few years. Believe it or not, but it's actually thanks to Eddie for his room looking decent now.

The plaid walls were now painted, and to keep with the same colour scheme as before, two were painted with a colour that was cream, but the paint pot said Ivory Nougat, the other two were a maroon colour; the paint pot was called pepper red, but it was nowhere near as vibrant as a red pepper. He had a few posters here and there, some for music (Tears for Fears, Pink Floyd, David Bowie), some for movies (Flashdance, The Outsiders) but his framed picture of a car still stayed above his desk; Steve gave a lot of persuasion to be able to get Eddie to let him keep it up. It was a little embarrassing, sure, but he liked cars, what could he say? And because he liked cars, on his desk there were three tiny toy cars of some of his favourite models that Eddie bought as a gift for him. The curtains stayed the same, as did a lot of the furniture in his room, but obviously there were small differences that don’t need to be explained. Steve remembers when his parents saw he changed his room and they went ape, but never bothered to get him to change it back, fortunately.

Steve sat up from his desk chair to sit next to his friend, and when he sat, he nudged her shoulder with his own and looked at her with a smile. She was staring down at her hands, her hair covering her face now Dustin had left.

“You okay?” Steve whispered, earning a sniff in response. The girl rubbed down her face with her hands with a loud sigh and turned her head to look at him.

“I will be.” She shrugged. They sat in the silence that filled the room. It was nice, comforting. “Are you okay?” Robin finally added, which made Steve buffer a second, because in truth, no, no he was not, but he got over himself quickly.

“Always.” He winked, and Robin gave a smile with the most unreadable expression, but then her smile dropped, and her head followed too, placing them in her hands. “Robin?” She stayed there for a moment, sniffing but otherwise silent, her shoulders shaking her body. Her head was the only thing that raised and she twisted her neck to look at the other and her hands dropped to her lap. She was laughing. 

“Do you remember, when you introduced me to Eddie, and he just refused to talk to me? We just didn’t like each other? Do you remember that?” This was true. It was after what happened at Starcourt, Eddie wasn’t involved with the Upside Down at this point, but he was friends with Steve at the time and sort of knew Robin anyway as he’d visit Steve at work. They spoke once, and it took a while for them to give in and at least try to be nice to each other, for Steve’s sake. The most surprising part is that it was Eddie who was cold towards Robin first, not the other way around.

Steve looked at Robin with a face full of confusion. “I mean, yeah, I suppose? Why?”

“I never told you why, did I?” The girl sat up a bit, moving a bit away from the other so they weren’t so close that they couldn’t see each other.

“No, I tried to ask you both separately, but neither of you gave me proper answers. You guys were so annoying about it, you know that, right?” He laughed.

Robin chuckled, “Well, do you wanna know about it or are you gonna call me annoying instead?” There was no real irritation behind what she said. Steve nodded with a smile and she took that as an invitation to start speaking, “So, you know you were like… Beat up by the Russians and everything? Black eye, broken ribs-?”

“Yes, Robin, I got it.” Steve said dismissing the memory of him getting his shit rocked, he didn’t like thinking of it for obvious reasons.

“Well, yeah, so when you left Eddie with me alone, he went into this, like, super detective mode trying to figure out what happened to you. Like he was not leaving it alone and ended up getting really angry with me ‘cause obviously we weren’t telling anyone what happened, he just got super protective. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone act like that before, he was super determined about it.” Robin shrugged, and the latter just stared back with a pink face and a mouth shaped like an ‘o’. “So he just refused to talk to me because of it, and I didn’t like how pushy he was so I didn’t like him and didn’t talk to him. But then he came to me and apologised and said we should be civil so you can stop getting so upset about it.”

“Oh.” Was all that Steve could manage to say.

“Yeah… He cared about you a lot, Steve.” She finished. Steve looked away to the wall ahead of them and they both sat in the silence a bit. This is when he saw the drawing he’d kept hung up on his wall.

"What's up?" Steve quizzed.

Everyone knows that summer in Hawkins is like living in hell, constantly walking around drenched in your own sweat, cold drinks going room temperature in the span of such few minutes, fans doing nothing but blowing hot air at you; yet no one really talks about winter in Hawkins. It wasn’t Antarctica, but it for sure was the exact opposite of summer. It was always cold and the skies were always grey. When it was at its peak, it snowed more than it rained and it iced over the lakes. It was undeniably beautiful. 

Eddie was currently sitting on Steve’s bed sketching into his sketchbook, his legs resting crossed under the covers as he hovered over what rested in his lap. Steve was sitting in his chair by his desk, writing notes while flicking his eyes back and forth to his own page and the science book in front of him. The metalhead wanted to play music so Queen’s album ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ was playing, Queen being the one of the only bands where both men agreed that they made music that was nothing short of a masterpiece. It was one of the most stereotypical winter days, snow falling, both men wearing layers and a radiator emitting heat to all corners of the room. They’d sat silent for a while, nothing but the music and scribbles of a pencil and pen on separate sheets of paper, but it was interrupted with an irritated sigh coming from Eddie with the scuff of a rubber erasing the mistake he had made. This was the trigger for Steve to look over, bored of reading about plants and their cells, and ask what was wrong. 

“Oh, uh…” Eddie jumped at the sudden sound of his friend’s voice and chuckled under his breath, “This drawing just won’t work with me.”

“Let me see.” The athlete stood up and walked over toward the bed.

“No!” With a yell, and a slam of his book, shoving it towards his own chest, Eddie made Steve freeze on the spot. “I mean, uh-... I just don’t like how it looks… Haha…” 

“Don’t be stupid, you’re, like, super good at art, I’m sure it’s fine.” Steve moved his lower body slightly to the side and his hands rested on both his hips.

“Nah, dude, it’s super bad, trust me, just go back to your plants or whatever.” The older boy shook his head while looking down at his fiddling hands, his hair swifted with it.

“Well, if it’s that bad I can give you tips on how to make it better!” He reasoned, “C’mon, Munson.”

Eddie looked at the latter and studied his face before laughing, “Yeah, sure, Harrington. No offence but I don’t think I’ll be taking art advice from you any time soon.”

Steve walked towards the bed and held his hand out, “Let me see.” Obviously, he wasn’t going to give in.

“Nope.” The metalhead smiled and pulled his sketchbook away from his chest to keep it as far away from the other as possible, which was a stupid decision as Steve stretched out his hand to grasp it, failing as it was dragged away from him yet again. Steve put one knee on the bed to get closer to the book, and Eddie backed away with the book still outstretched. “Stevie, I swear to God, man!” He laughed, still menovouring himself to get away from the athlete and smacking his hand away from his book. 

“It wouldn’t be this difficult if you’d just let me see it!” Steve giggled, both of the men still play-fighting each other.

“And it wouldn’t be this difficult if you’d just leave it!” The artist yelped as Steve took his head into his arm and reached over, grabbing the sketchbook successfully.

“A-ha!” Steve shouted as he jumped from the bed, the older boy’s face dropped (Steve’s eyes were too concentrated on the book to see), and he reached his hand out in defence but was swiftly swatted away, “Nuh-uh, Munson, I got this fair and square!” He backed up to lean on his desk, with his body still facing Eddie while opening his sketchbook to the page he was drawing on before. His face dropped when he realised what it was.

It was beautiful, of course it was. Eddie was indubitably talented at what he does, contradicting what he thinks. Steve’s eyes lightened and dotted around every single spec of the page and his mouth spread into a smile as he huffed. It was him, at his desk. It was a drawing of Steve. His face full of concentration, his hand gripped around his pen and his hair was most definitely done justice. The wrinkles by the elbow on the drawing’s jumper were faint and had small particles of rubber around it, but it looked perfect anyway, no matter what Eddie thought.

Steve’s real face flushed and he looked up at the other with eyes full of admiration. The man on the bed had put his knees towards his chest and covered his face with both of his hands while shaking his head in such small movements it was almost barely noticeable. The younger man walked over and sat beside his friend, grabbing one of the wrists of the hand covering his face so they could look at eachother, but Eddie moved his crimson face away from the other so he didn’t have to look at him. “Eddie, this is beautiful.”

“What?” The metalhead snapped his head around and looked at the other’s eyes, his own widening before darting to the drawing he’d done.

“Why do you hate it?” Steve asked.

“I just… I’m a perfectionist, I guess.” Eddie shrugged and put his hand out for the book, but it was ignored, “I have to draw a real person for art, like live action, and I-.. I mean I should’ve asked, I’m sorry-”

“What?” The other looked away from the pages in his hand and down at his friend who was still refusing to look him in the eye, “Don’t be sorry, Eddie, you… You’re really talented.”

Eyes under a bundle of bangs darted towards the other, “Nah, man,” He chuckled, eyes darting back to his work, “I’m gonna throw it or something anyway, it’s not even that good.”

“You’re gonna throw it!?” Steve exclaimed a bit louder than he intended, “You’re not gonna use it for class?” Earning a shake from the latter’s head. “I’ll keep it then.” A laugh escaped Eddie’s lips.

“No way, I won’t let you.” He reached for the book but it was pulled away.

“I’m not giving you this back until you let me keep it.” Steve’s face was emotionless, but his eyebrows were slightly raised and his voice was clearly leaving no room for argument. He had to move the book further away as Eddie tried to reach for it again, earning a loud irritated noise that escaped his lips, eyes darting towards the other. He frowned with disgust for a second before giving in.

“Fine! You can have it.” 

Proud of them, Steve had covered his wall with more art by Eddie, some of Steve, some of himself, some of Dustin and Robin, etc. Even with some things to do with DnD, he was just proud, even if he had no idea what it was about. His line of thought was interrupted.

“Why do we have to do this?” Robin laughed, the man paused for a second, “Why do we have to do this weird funeral-party thing?”

He didn’t really know why he wanted to do this funeral, “So we can move on.” He knew it wasn’t going to help him move on. It was to help the other’s he supposed.

Dropping her hands to her lap, Robin twisted her neck so she could make eye contact with Steve. “But it just makes it more real… And-and what if I don’t wanna move on? What if I want to be sad about him forever?”

“You don’t want that, Robin.” Steve smiled.

“I know.” The girl sighed, “I just don’t know how I’m meant to socialise when they come over if all I want to do is be sad.”

“You’ll find a way. You always do with me, I’m sure the others will be a breeze.” He wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her tightly before she rested her head on his shoulder and he rested his head on hers.

“I don’t know what to say to them.” The guilt from her words soaked into every wall of the room.

“I know.” Steve empathised, because in reality, he didn’t know either, “Buck up, smile, charm, off we go.” The boy rubbed the other’s arm up and down to try to soothe her, the comforting moment was interrupted by the front door opening and mumbling from downstairs. The athlete stood and reached his hand towards his friend. “We’ll be okay.” Robin hesitated a second before taking his hand and standing with him, walking out of the room to meet the group who’d just arrived. 

Soon enough, everyone was here. Mike, Dustin, Will, and Lucas were around the couch, talking about typically nerdy things, as always, trying to avoid the topic of why they’re here in the first place. Robin and Nancy were in the kitchen, they weren’t ignoring it, Robin actually telling Nancy funny stories about the petty arguments she'd have with their friend, either to annoy Steve or eachother. Erica was sitting next to Steve on the staircase. He moved out of the living room when Dustin brought something about Eddie being the dungeon master up. For some reason it made him more emotional than he expected and needed a bit of space, but not long after Erica had followed after him. 

At first they stayed silent. Erica rested her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees. Her hair was up in a ponytail with a red beaded hair tie, and her fringe rested on her forehead. She was wearing a simple black dress with short sleeves and black tights, her shoes were sparkling with black glitter and her shoelaces white. She kept her pastel bracelets on her wrist, though. The girl took a sip from a tropical juice carton before placing it on the step below her and she sighed, “Are you okay?” 

It shocked Steve. Of course he knew that Erica was a good person, but he never really took her for a person to be outwardly nice to people that weren’t her brother or her friends like Tina. “I’m good.”

“Be honest.” Turning her head slightly toward the man sat next to her.

“I am being honest.” He defended. Obviously he wasn’t, but Erica didn’t have to know about his problems. He didn’t even tell Robin about what was really happening in his brain, let alone an eleven year old he happened to become friends with by practically saving the world with her. Unconvinced, she let out a soft huff as a laugh, and turned back to whatever she was staring at before. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m as okay as I can be when my brother’s girlfriend is in a coma and someone I could’ve been friends with is dead.” She said flatly, “So I’m not that okay… But at least I can be honest about it.” Which earned the first laugh from Steve in a while. Sure, her snarkiness could be annoying at times, but that never made her any less funny. 

Wanting to change the conversation, “How is Max?” The man asked.

The girl sighed, dropping her hands, clasping them, making her arms past her elbows hang in front of her, “She’s the same as before. Nothing’s really changed. It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” Steve stopped staring at the ground and turned his head to look at her. 

“Well, I just want her to get better. Everyone does.” She shrugged.

Steve hummed in response and nodded slowly. Max was like his little sister, and it stung the back of his eyes at the thought that there’s an extremely high chance that she won’t be coming back too. Before he could dwell on that thought for too long he found himself pushing it down, like usual, and changed the subject again, “And Lucas?” 

Erica looked back at him with a confused face, “Why don’t you ask him?” It was a fair question, and Steve didn’t really know the answer and he froze. The girl furrowed her eyebrows even more before continuing, “He’s struggling. A lot. Don’t tell him I told you, because he’d kill me. Not as if he could if he tried.” Earning a laugh from the athlete, she continued, “He’s my brother and I want to help him but I don’t know how to do it. I’m trying, though, and I’m pretty sure it’s working so far.” 

“I think you’re doing really well, Erica.” He nudged his shoulder into hers before returning back to where he was before.

She looked as if she had just been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize, “You think so?”

“Definitely. Lucas might be a bit too overwhelmed at the moment to say it, but he’s grateful. I know it. If you were my sister I’d be very proud, and I think once Lucas gets better, he’ll be proud too. ” A smile perked up on the girl’s face and Steve knew he chose the right words to convince her, “Just the facts.” He quoted. She laughed and nudged him with his shoulder, the same way he did before. 

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Robin and Nancy?” She was very inquisitive and sometimes, Steve really hated that about her, but couldn’t blame her because he was the same.

“Well, I was planning on being alone on these steps, but then this weird eleven year old who is strangely caring decided to follow me, then proceeded to call me a liar when I said I was fine, while drinking juice that I bought.” He joked, and it worked because Erica cocked one of her brows up while laughing through her nose and turning her head to whatever was in front of them.

“I didn’t call you a liar, I said that you weren’t being honest.” She shrugged.

Steve laughed, “That’s you calling me a liar, Sinclair.” And Erica didn’t argue, because to be fair, Steve was right. They sat in another silence, hearing a roar of laughter come from the living room. The young man sat there content. It had been a while since he had heard them laugh like that, he missed it. He missed it a lot. Both Erica and himself started listening to their conversation and they realised that Dustin and Lucas were crying and Will’s voice was quite croaky itself, but they didn’t think he was actually crying as well. They were laughing about a joke Dustin made whilst they were reminiscing on Hellfire Club, but Will was on the verge of tears because his friends were crying and he hated it. Mike probably was too, but he wasn’t really talking, just giggling every now and then.

“Can I ask you a question?” The girl’s sudden speaking made Steve jump, then he became even more shocked that she was asking for permission to be nosy. Usually she’d do it not caring what anyone wanted.

“You just did.” He smiled, earning a roll of Erica’s eyes before she looked at him with a face that he could only pinpoint as concern, which worried him.

“Fine, can I ask you another question?” She rephrased, moving to sit further away from the other so she could turn to look at him better.

“Shoot.” Steve shrugged.

Erica looked down for a second and fiddled with her hands, like she was contemplating whether she should actually go ahead and ask it or not. “Why don’t you cry?”

Well. If Steve was expecting anything it most certainly was not that. He stared back with wide eyes and his teeth practically crunching together from how hard his jaw clenched once realising it was hung open. His body was completely still, apart from his eyes which were darting everywhere besides the girl next to him and his eyebrows which were twitching ever so slightly whilst furrowed. Erica could practically hear the clogs clanging in his head trying to find some sort of answer that would be respectable, but he didn’t have to land on one just yet as he heard a sigh.

“I just find it weird how…” She trailed off for a second, “If you tell anyone I told you this I will grind you down into a pulp and watch contently while people drink your remains, got it?” Steve nodded. “You are one of the bravest people I know. I mean, you single handedly fought off a russian guard without any hesitation. Like it or not, that’s brave. And even though Dustin and Lucas and those lot can, you can’t manage to do the bravest thing a man can do and that’s just weird to me.”

The athlete paused for another second, then came to the conclusion that this must be a joke… Right? “What’s the bravest thing a man can do then? Play a fantasy game in the middle of Wheeler’s stuffy basement?” And all Erica did was roll her eyes. 

“No, you slow-thinking peabrain.” She looked towards the door to their side which showed the entrance to the living room where they had heard the boys before, “To cry.” She shrugged, and then cringed slightly, probably realising how she sounded as if she was writing one of those horrifying self-help books, but her face dropped. She stood by her word. 

“Okay, just, hang on." Steve's voice sounded panicked as he rushed into a cubicle to find some tissue. 

"What are you doing, Harrington?” Eddie flinched a second before settling back to lean on the sink. Though, he was trying everything to hide his face, which was no use because Steve had already seen it. His hair was at an awkward length above his shoulders so he couldn’t hide behind it, like he’d find himself doing in only a few years time. Steve settled next to the other, reached his hand out so the metalhead could take the tissue that he offered, which he ended up doing, hesitantly snatching it. “Did you not get enough laughs earlier?” He croaked.

“I wasn’t laughing.” For once, Steve was being dead honest. He wasn’t lying at all when he says he didn’t even smirk at Tommy H’s relentless teasing of the man beside him. “What I want is to… try to help you out… I guess.” He noticed that Eddie only scrunched the tissue in his hand when he gave it to him, still looking away from the athlete. Steve scoffed and walked back into a cubicle to grab even more toilet paper and this time he stood directly in front of the older boy, instead of leaning on the same sink beside him. Yet this wasn’t enough to make the guitarist’s head pop up, if anything it made the boy fold even further into himself. “Lift your head.” This made him get to see watery eyes glare up at him, the face confused, clearly trying to hide whatever emotion that it actually wanted to express.

Still looking at the athlete, “And I should listen to you because…?”

“You should listen to me because I’m trying to help you.” Patience running thin, but not quite worn down yet. Eddie huffed. Then he chuckled. Then he was thrown into a fit of giggles, covering his face with one of his hands while his head was thrown back, and Steve, as confused as he was, couldn’t help but smile. Just a little bit, it was barely noticeable. Honestly, it was barely even there. It’s pretty bold to even say it was a smile, to be honest, because why would he be smiling at him? There was no reason for him to be smiling at the wild laugh that managed to echo through the room.

“And what would happen if big bad Tommy H found out King Steve was trying to help out The Freak, huh?” His face was finally on full show and facing towards the other, but, boy, did Steve regret looking as the guilt pervaded his stomach and brain all over again. Eddie’s eyes were slightly red and a little bit puffy, but most of all they were glistening, as were the stains that ran from his eyes to the bottom of his jaw. His lip was busted and his nose was bright pink and blood had started to dry there. Hair awkwardly bunched before his forehead, but not in the weirdly endearing way it usually was, it was more of an, ‘I am stressed out of my mind’ way. “Would you be stripped of your royal title or would I be struck for ‘coercing you into the darkside’?” He laughed, but Steve was unsure if there really was any joke there. “Or both?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve moved his hand very slowly towards the older boy's face, a failed attempt to try to not scare him. Eddie flinched, but stopped when he saw the pace that the athlete had set for his hand, knowing if he was about to be punched, there would’ve been a much faster speed. Eddie was expecting it to go towards the drying blood on his lip or nose, but no. While holding onto the top of Eddie’s head, Steve wiped down the latter’s tear stained cheeks with the tissue in his hand, looking ever so concentrated. The metalhead froze, expecting some snarky remark about how much of a pussy or coward he was for letting his emotions take him to the point of tears, but the remark never came. 

So, instead of waiting, Eddie bit. “What? Never seen tears before?” He sniffed and looked up towards the ceiling as soon as the younger boy moved his eyes away from the tears and toward the other’s.

“No, but tears don’t look good on you.” Steve shrugged, never stopping wiping down with the tissue, even though the tears were far gone by now.

The guitarist huffed, “What, because I’m a man? Progressive.” 

“No, that’s not-, I didn’t mean-, I just-...” The athlete dropped his hand away from the other’s face, which made him return his eyes from the ceiling, now making direct eye contact. Eddie’s brows drew together and his mouth opened to say something before he got interrupted. “Look, that’s not what I’m saying, what I’m saying is you’re a nice dude and it’s shitty of me to let my… friends treat you like that. Okay? You’re allowed to cry.” He moved his hand back to the latter’s shocked face and started attempting to clean the blood from his nose.

“You surprise me, Harrington.” Was all Eddie could manage to stay, staring down the younger boy's furrowed brows and the way he was chewing the inside of his cheek slightly while staring at the blood on Eddie's nose.

“In a good way or…?” Steve glanced at the other’s eyes just for a second before moving to throw the tissue in a bin, grabbing a new one and wetting it. He stood back where he was before, placing one hand on the top of Eddie’s head again and used the other to dab at the cut on the latter’s lip. The athlete muttered a sorry as Eddie hissed. 

There was a beat, “I don’t know.” Eddie managed. “I hope so. I think.” He looked back up at the ceiling and in the corner of his eye he could see the younger boy’s hand stutter a second as he looked away from Eddie’s dried blood and to his eyes; the metalhead praying that the heat in his face was a trick his brain was playing on him. 

Silence played out until it became a little awkward and unbearable. “I think…” But Steve broke it. “I think that if… I don’t know, I just-” He took a step back from the boy leant on the sink and stayed there a second before turning around and spoke while throwing away the used tissue in his hand to get more and wetting it again, “You know, I can’t… Do… That. I just think that-, I think it’s-, you’re… I don’t know, I think you’re… Brave.” He shrugged and stood before the guitarist again, he went to put the tissue towards his nose again before the boy backed his face away a bit. He looked away from the soggy paper in the latter’s hand so they made eye contact. 

“You think I’m brave?” There was something in Eddie’s eyes that no one would be able to pinpoint, but if it had to be named the closest thing to it was bashful.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m gonna be jumping on tables and screaming at people anytime soon.” He laughed and moved towards the bloody nose again, wiping down. Eddie was a statue staring down at the athlete’s concentrated face, and as hard as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop the slight smile that crawled on his face.

“That Nancy chick’s really putting you into shape, huh?” A small hiss let out of his mouth as a piece of dried blood that was stuck to his skin was nipped off. He looked at the proud smile that emerged on the other’s face. 

“I think so. At least, I hope she is. What’s making you think that?” Steve took a step back, the blood now cleaned off of the latter’s face.

Eddie examined the boy in front of him for a second and stood up a bit, still leaning against the sink behind him. “Well, you used to be like… A grade A asshole.” He noticed the way the other looked at the ground with a slight wince, but decided to ignore it. “I mean, you wouldn’t have even given what Tommy did a second thought, let alone come in here and wipe the shit off my face. You’ve somewhat changed. You’re still kind of a douche sometimes… But you’re not so bad, I guess.” 

The athlete looked up at Eddie - trying to see if he was being genuine - and when he came to the conclusion that he was, he decided to speak, “Not so bad? Is that it?” He laughed.

“Hey, if you’re still friends with an asshole, then by default that makes you an asshole. I don’t make the rules.” He shrugged with a slight chuckle, then saw how the boy in front of him threw away the bloodstained tissue with a sour look on his face. “Hey, I said you weren’t so bad.” But the expression on the younger boy’s face didn’t change, even when a fake smile and nod appeared. Eddie let out a dramatic sigh, “Jesus Christ, okay, Harrington, you’re not a total asshole. Like, half an asshole. A quarter. The only thing keeping your asshole-ness unchanged is your trashy friends. But you as a person? You’re kind of… Okay.” 

“You think I’m okay?” Finally, a genuine smile appeared as Steve’s eyes lit up towards the metalhead. 

Eddie shrugged and stood up from the sink while crossing his arms. “You’re totally okay. Are you happy now?”

Steve laughed, “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” 

“Thanks to you too.” The older boy smiled, but he smiled a little too wide as his lip popped open again and the blood trickled down, as it did before. Eddie hissed as Steve rushed into a cubicle before repeating the process of wetting some toilet paper again and rushed towards the latter. The guitarist’s hand had flown towards his bottom lip before he tongued the inside of it. “Fucking shit!”

“You really should cry, it helps with a lot of… Stuff, you know?” Erica nudged the man beside her.

Steve snapped out of it, only a little, “I know.” He responded slightly dazed. 

The girl sighed and stood up, grabbing her juice carton in the process. She straightened her dress slightly and turned around to reach a hand out to the athlete, “You coming?”

“I think… I’m going to stay here a little longer.” He smiled. It was a little belated, but Erica smiled nonetheless before walking into the front room where the boys were laughing about another story. Finally, Steve had a moment of peace. A moment to gather his thoughts. He could be alone after all day being surrounded by people. Think about all the things he couldn't when everyone was around. Never being interrupted. Never stopping. Just constant thoughts…

Actually being alone sucks, quite frankly. 

Once Steve made his way into the kitchen, Robin greeted him with a smile. Nancy did too before leaving, making her way to the living room. Her smile was a lot less genuine though, and a lot more awkward. It was Steve’s fault, really. He went ahead and made it so incredibly awkward between the two with that whole six nuggets speech. Six nuggets. Nuggets. The use of the word nuggets while confessing to your ex - who is in a happy, loving relationship - that you still feel a little somethin’ somethin’ for them. Nuggets. Genuinely, who does that? What possesses someone to do that? Nuggets? Fucking nuggets? To be fair, there are worse ways to handle it. The man could’ve said descendents. Or Heirs. Seeds. Offsprings. Offshoots.

“You okay?” Robin was leaning forward on the island’s counter and her head was cocked to the side. Steve sighed a yes before diving back into his thought process from before. Anyway, he did end up clearing everything up with Nancy and apologised profusely, it was just the panic and rush of the world ending and he needed something to cling to. Something to care about. Something to love. Something to fight for who wasn't… Didn't matter. He just wanted the want to be wanted by Nancy, because he didn't have that want to be wanted by anyone; except for one person, but that is something that's kept unspoken. Well, that’s not what he told Nancy, he just said- 

“Yeah, so, uh… That was, like, really super-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course…” Nancy cut him off.

“And I didn’t mean any…”

“Oh, yeah, totally.” She stood almost out of place in front of him.

“I was just really caught up with the whole-”

“Yeah, no, of course, yeah.” She cut off again.

“Yeah… We’re good, right?”

“Obviously, yeah, yeah, yeah.” She deflected and looked down on the ground.

“Okay. Yeah. Cool.”

“Cool, cool, cool…” She repeated, an overwhelming feeling of stupidity clouding the air around them.

Watching a sex scene in front of family would be less awkward. He would say he ruined everything between them, but it’s not as if they were exactly best buddies after everything in the first place. Then again, they were still able to be in the same room without suffocating in the silence.

“Earth to Steve?” Two arms waved from across the room and he was snapped back out of his mind and back into the room with Robin.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He shook his head and walked over and sat on the stool by the opposite side of the island, facing his friend.

She huffed, “Again, are you okay?” And for some reason, for the first time throughout their friendship, Robin’s kindness annoyed Steve. Everyone that day was constantly asking if he was okay. He was okay, he was fine, why didn’t anybody believe him?

“I’m fine, I promise, I’m fine. Can everybody stop asking me that? I’m okay.” Receiving a look from the girl as if to say a silent ‘are you serious?’, “I know I seem mental, but I’m fine.”

Robin tried one more time to reassure her friend, “Steve, you know you can-”

“I’m fine.” He glared. God, and she said earlier that Eddie was annoying for being pushy. That was a bit weird to hear, though. He knew that Eddie would be concerned for him, obviously, but he’d thought that he’d take Steve’s word and just believe he had an accident while playing some good old fashioned american football. The metalhead didn’t know how serious his injuries were, so to a blind eye it was believable… But Eddie knew the ins and outs of Steve to a slightly discomforting extent. Steve should’ve known his friend would see the lie he ripped through his teeth. He thought he’d let it go, though, after Eddie repeatedly asked him to tell the truth. Turns out he didn’t and had a full blown argument with a girl he barely knew in some weird attempt to protect the athlete. Weird. Very weird. “So, carrying on from what you were talking about earlier. I just-... What-, what did Eddie say to you, exactly? Like, when he was asking you about me.”

“Hm, well, I can’t necessarily remember. Why?” She moved around the block in between them to sit next to Steve.

“I was just wondering. I don’t know.” Which, to be honest, he didn’t really know what came over him to ask a question like that. Usually he hated talking about Eddie and would avoid it at all costs.

Robin paused for a second, contemplating whether it was a good idea to speak or not. “I don’t know, I guess he was just kinda worried for you, Steve. He was like… Trying to get a confession out of me - not violently - like, he just wanted to know what happened to you. He thought it was something to do with Tommy. Like, he thought you’d got in a fight with him or something and was just confused about everything. I stuck with the football excuse but he wasn’t having any of it. As soon as I’d bring it up he’d cut me off. You know, he was just doing the typical protective stuff. The kinda stuff you do.” She rambled at such a fast pace, but Steve had gotten used to her constant rants and understood everything she said by now.

Steve just looked at his hands fiddling with each other, his arms resting on the counter. He couldn’t even blame Eddie, because he knew if he saw the latter in the same state he’d probably do the exact same thing. Or even worse, but he didn’t really want to think about how much worse he’d get. He’d moved on from that stage in his life. “I found Eddie really difficult.”

To say that statement shocked Robin would be an understatement. She froze at first, but relaxed into the island in front of them the same way the athlete did. The only difference being she was looking at his face, while he was staring into the void that was his hands. “I think we all did, sometimes.” She chuckled.

“Not like th-.” He cut himself off with a sigh, “I mean, he was my best friend - along with you now, obviously - but, you know. And I, like-, I would’ve done anything for him but-...” He trailed off.

“I think that’s all that really matters.” Robin smiled, even though her friend couldn’t see her.

“No… No, I don’t think so.” Steve shook his head and tightened his lips towards the edges before he continued, “His instincts were… I don’t know. He was like-, he just knew… He just knew how to be fun. How to be kind. He just knew. Now, I’m here alone and I’m just kind of… Guessing.”

“You’re not alone, Steve.” She nudged him with her shoulder to try to get him to look up at her but it failed.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed, but the meaning was clearly lost to Robin. “I mean, he left. Now, I kind of feel… Okay, but he was always just automatically fun.”

“You’re fun too!”

“No, I didn’t like that about him.”

“What?” The shock in her voice was very telling. Not as if it’s not a perfectly normal reaction, she was just told that her best friend didn’t like how his other best friend was fun. That’s a pretty odd thing to say, let’s be fair. 

Steve sighed again, he’d been sighing a lot recently. There was no reason for it, he was just, sort of… Tired. All the time. “I didn’t like how he made everything fun. Or how he was able to help everyone within a split second, no hesitation. I didn’t like… Yeah… And for a long time, I just… But today? I’m jealous of him.” He never drew his eyes away from his hands. He never liked looking at Robin when he was being honest. Then he’d cry. And Steve Harrington does not cry.

There was a bit of silence, clouded with confusion on Robin’s behalf. “That’s… I think that’s a lovely thing to say, really.” And she meant it. A bit weird. How is saying you didn’t like how your dead best friend was a good person, lovely? Who knows. Robin’s brain’s a bit weird. Everyone loves her for it, though. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose and decided to completely change the conversation before it got any more serious.

“How’s it with Vickie?” He smirked while looking at his friend, who’s face dropped completely.

“Do we really have to talk about it now?” Pure dread in her eyes, knowing Steve will absolutely tease the shit out of her with her awkward interactions with her crush.

Steve let out a chuckle, “You force me to talk about my love life then ultimately regret it, now it’s my turn.” 

After some ranting, it was nearing the end of the evening. Lucas and Erica had already left, he whispered something to her and she immediately stood up and made some excuse while Lucas followed behind fidgeting, eyes darting anywhere but the people he was surrounded by and left with a shaky ‘goodbye’. Everyone knew what was happening to him and wanted to help, but everytime they tried, it’d either make it worse or he’d deny everything. Lucas didn’t really have anyone to talk to about his paranoid delusions. That he knew of, anyway. Steve really didn’t like talking about it to anyone but… 

“Hey, Stevie, sweetheart? Look at me, okay? Can you look-”

Yeah, Steve didn’t like talking to anyone about it. 

Nancy decided she was going to leave with Will, Mike and take Dustin along with her as well, saving Steve a drive. She offered Robin, and though Steve tried to argue, she said she was going to stay the night. He was grateful, of course. His friend knew he hated being alone. What she didn’t know was that he’d been having horrible nightmares every night since it happened, and he wasn’t planning on telling her anytime soon. It’s not as if he didn’t trust Robin, he did, he loved her - Platonically - he just… Didn’t want to talk about it. He felt bad that he didn’t. She’s his best friend, he should be telling her about it, but he just wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to that sense of trust. He wasn’t even sure if he liked that sense of trust.

He also had that sense of trust with Eddie. Not surprising. Well, maybe it is. It took a while to get there, Steve being the King of Hawkins and Eddie being The Town Freak and all, but they got there. Even then, Eddie didn’t know everything about Steve. Just a little bit… A lot. He knew Steve a lot. Actually, he knew too much about Steve. Whatever, he just wasn’t an open book, and he probably never will be. There’s no shame in not opening up about everything, why does everyone make it out to be? It won’t kill him or anything… Might take a little hit to his emotional comprehension but he’s fiiiine.

Okay, maybe he’s not fine, maybe he’s constantly on the verge of a crisis, but Robin didn’t have to know that. It can just be his little secret! He likes keeping secrets. He’s actually quite good at keeping secrets. For example, no one knows that one night during a party at his house Robin got so out of her mind drunk that she straight up took a dump in his sink before passing out on his bathroom floor in just her underwear and a party hat. Yeah, no one knows about that, do they?... Well, now they do. Sorry. Bad example. But every other secret he has is kept a secret! Nothing to worry about, really. 

“Hello, Steve?” A hand swiped away from his face. Dustin.

Steve shook his head. “Uh, yeah?” He looked down to the teen in front of him. When Dustin wouldn’t stop the waving of his hand, the athlete grabbed his wrist and put it to the latter’s side.

“We’re leaving now. I’ve got to feed Peter, or he tries to escape and then he’ll get eat-” Steve cut him off with a laugh.

“Yeah, okay, you can go.” Oh yeah, Peter.

“What’s in the box?” Steve pried as he leaned his back next to Eddie on the side of his own car. It was Dustin’s birthday, and the two men were currently waiting outside the teen’s house so they could take him to go comic book shopping. He didn’t know this, he just thought they were taking him to the arcade, but he was still excited anyway.

“You’ll see.” Eddie had his eyes glued to what was in his hands. He tapped the box slightly with a rhythm, clearly nervous. “Oh my God, Stevie, this is the worst gift that anyone could possibly get.”

“What? What’d you get him?” He laughed thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t. “I can’t tell you, what if Henderson hears?” The guitarist looked up and Steve felt his stomach churn when he saw the pure dread in the latter’s eyes.

“He’s not going to hear you from all the way out here.” He moved from his back and leaned on his arm, which was now resting on the top of the car, so he could face his friend.

Almost comically timed, Dustin ran out of his house screaming a ‘love you’ to his mother before coming to a halt in front of the two men. “Hi, sorry I’m late. Birthday stuff.” His attention drew to the box in Eddie’s hands. “Ooh, what’s that?”

Eddie placed the box in the boy’s hands, Steve began to reiterate the teen’s question. “Yeah, what-” Dustin opened it, “-the fuck!?”

There he was in all his glory. Peter. It was a white rat, a cute, tiny animal, his right eye was that beautiful red-purple colour, the other was black; though, the pupil of the black eye was slightly reddened. Dustin let out a giggle along with a beaming smile, he tucked the rat in his hand while handing Eddie the box so he could hug it in his chest. He repeated phrases like, “Hi, little guy!” while stroking the top of his head. He was the picture of joy.

Steve, however? Oh, Steve was mortified. He absolutely hated rats. Could not stand the sight of them. He hid it, or at least tried to. Didn’t change the fact he still hated them. He let out a very nervous chuckle as he backed up a step, barely even noticeable.

“Does he have a name?” Dustin looked away from his new found friend.

“Peter.” Eddie beamed proudly. “Like Peter Piper? The flute dude with the little plague rats!”

Unfortunately, the teen did not look even slightly amused. “I have to have a pet called Peter?”

“Hey, I can take it back if-” He was cut off abruptly, as expected.

“No!” Dustin yelped. “Sorry. No.” He smiled again looking down towards the rat. “I like you, Peter.”

Eddie then showed Dustin a bag by his feet, carrying all the stuff a rat needs. The metalhead thanked whatever was up there that he knew someone who was getting rid of their rat right before his friend’s birthday. Steve stayed absolutely silent and absolutely still. He really meant it when he said he hated them. “You alright there, sweetheart?” The metalhead chimed in.

“Yep.” The athlete realised how his voice was way too squeaky and his posture looked as though a stick was lodged up his ass, so he quickly changed both, “Yeah, yeah, dude. Cool present. Love it. It’s cool.”

Dustin held out the little guy in his hands, “Do you wanna pet-”

“No!” He screeched and moved Eddie’s hips and crouched very slightly so he could hide behind the man. Silence. He soon realised what he was doing and he slowly let go of his friend's hips and stood up beside him. He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Embarrassed, all he did was stare at the rat that Dustin had hid back into his chest at this point and looked up at his friend with wide eyes.

“Are you scared of Peter, Harrington?” Eddie chuckled.

Steve blushed impossibly lighter as he glared back at his friend. “I am not scared.” He stated with the most monotone voice. 

“I mean, you just pushed me in front of you and hid behind me. I’m disappointed, truly. You wouldn’t sacrifice yourself for me? Big boy like you’s scared of this sweet old thing? Really?” He teased with that wicked grin. The grin he kept stashed away for Steve.

“It’s a perfectly rational fear.” He kept his monotone voice, even though it was a bit shaky. His face, ears and neck felt like he’d just put them in a hot oven, and he was absolutely covered by that red colour that Eddie always managed to coat him in. 

“I’m not scared of him. You’re just being silly.” Dustin chimed with a teasing smile.

“Look, I had a friend who had one exactly like that, without that odd eye thing, when I was a kid and it bit me, okay? I think that allows me to be a little scared of that thing.”

“A little? Steve, you hid behind Eddie and squealed.” Dustin laughed and looked back down to Peter who rested peacefully in his hands already. Soulmates? Possibly.

Steve scoffed, “I do not sque-ow!” He squealed and looked over to see his hand, now with a bite mark, being held with ring-covered fingers, millimetres away from Eddie’s mouth.

A rough laugh deep from the metalhead’s chest escaped his lips, still holding impossible eye contact - of which Steve hated, just a little bit. “Are you scared of me now?”

The athlete stayed silent, wide eyes, mouth agape and before he could say anything, Dustin interjected. “I’m gonna go put Peter away.” He took the box out of his friend’s hands to put the rat back in and snatched the bag from the ground, still holding that teasing smile. Lord knows how grateful Steve is for how, even though Dustin is a genius, he is completely oblivious when it comes to people. “Wait in the car, I’ll only take a second!” The teen ran off with his new buddy.

Eddie stared at the running boy for a second before letting out another chuckle exactly like the one earlier. He looked Steve right in the eye, and just before he reached the car handle and sat inside, he pouted and lightly tapped Steve on the cheek. His pout broke when he laughed, then he cooed, “Silly little boy.”

It was an unconventional present. Eddie knew it. Steve knew it. God knows Dustin knew it, as it took a lot of convincing to get his mother to let him keep it after a week. Dustin took the most care for Peter, though, and after it happened, well. Obviously he kept even closer to him. At first, the teen wouldn’t go anywhere without him. Steve had to put up with his fear and try to be fine with it, but luckily his friend made sure to keep his rat a fair distance away from the athlete. 

Someone nudged Steve's shoulder, and he smiled in response and started walking when he saw the boys and Nancy doing the same. Thank God Robin’s there to keep him in check. Once they’d all stepped outside, they said their goodbye’s by the front door, Dustin being the last one, obviously. Save the best until last and all that. He let go of the athlete and took a step back, but he stopped himself from turning around and walking away. He just stood, staring down his friend’s face with the most concentration. “Steve?” Earning a hummed response, he looked at Robin and the ends of his lips twitched into almost a smile before stopping. He leaned forward, “Are you blushing?”

And just like that, Steve felt the harsh heat that smothered his face. He must have been hot… Yeah, that was it. He wasn’t thinking about anything. He was just hot. He scoffed and pushed Dustin away by shoving his hand to the teens face, “Shut up, man. Just get home safe.” Before his irritatingly inquisitive friend could embarrass him any more, he shut the door, turned around and leaned back on it with a sigh.

“He’s right, you know?” Robin disrupted his peace. Not really peace, but that’s not the point.

“What?” Was all he managed to say, praying that his friend would drop it.

She didn’t, of course. “What you thinking about there, Stevie?” She laughed when Steve winced and made a disgusted noise.

“God, don’t ever call me that. That’s gross.” He kept leaning on his door with his eyes closed. They felt so heavy. He was not sleeping properly at all. Can’t remember the last time he had. He was most definitely not sleeping if Robin would be able to hear him scream awake, though.

“I do find that a little weird.” She sauntered over to the tired man and leaned on the wall beside him, her head banging on it as did his when he first relaxed on the door.

“What’s weird?” He opened his eyes and turned his head off the wall and towards the girl.

She laughed at Steve’s obliviousness, “So, I can’t call you Stevie, fine, I won’t, but Eddie could call you every name in the book and you were fine with it.” Oh. The athlete’s eyes widened and his cheeks reddened all over again. “I say favouritism. ‘Love all my best friends equally’, my ass. Rude.” She snickered to make clear it was a joke.

Whatever is up there, whatever gave him these beautifully unsuspectful friends, Steve had never been more grateful. “He just wouldn’t listen to me. So, please, for my sake, listen to me and never call me that again.” He chuckled and placed his head back on the door.

It was true. Eddie would call Steve absolutely anything but Steve. Harrington at first, but slowly he was being forced to get used to the names Stevie, sweetheart, pretty boy, honey, even princess at a certain point. There were sometimes other ones as well. It was all the stuff you’d expect from a guy like Eddie. Actually, Steve was never forced to get used to them, he’d just take them in his stride. No, he’d freeze and blush explosively, then he’d take it in his stride. Whatever, didn’t matter how he got used to the pet names. Eddie never used nicknames on anyone else. It was either their first or last name, or if they played DnD, then he’d use their character name too. Even if they were having a serious conversation, Eddie would still refuse to call him Steve. The only time he called Steve, Steve was their very first conversation (only once) and then when… Doesn't matter. Too soon. Isn’t important for now. Maybe later. Maybe.

Very heavy on that maybe.

But Steve didn’t have that anymore. Steve didn’t have those names to hear out for. He didn’t have that buzz of when a new name would suddenly come up. He didn’t have those names to attach himself to and never let go. He didn’t have those names to become embarrassed when he suddenly realised how warm his face became. He didn’t have that anymore. He didn’t have him anymore. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t have anything anymore.

And maybe he didn’t.

Robin had Vickie. Dustin, Will, Lucas and every other kid had each other. Nancy and Jonathan had each other. They all had each other at the end of the day, and no matter how included Steve was, sometimes he felt like he was just watching them. Watching their laughs and smiles, listening to their jokes or problems, taking them to every place they wanted or needed to go.

So, yeah, maybe he didn’t have anything.

He didn’t care. Of course he didn’t care. He can find his own things to do, he’s been doing that for, what? 13 years? It didn’t matter how long, but he’s used to it. It’s been a while. It’s second nature. It didn’t matter. It’s nothing. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. 

There’s no maybe this time. Everything is okay. Promise.

He was lying to himself. He knew this. He didn’t acknowledge it, but he knew it. That probably doesn’t even make sense. Nothing really makes sense anymore, so it doesn’t matter.

It was even later on in the evening and Steve and Robin were now sitting on his couch on opposite sides, legs intertwining while they watched The Breakfast Club. It wasn’t necessarily Steve’s taste, but Robin loved it. (She also loved Allison, which Steve loves teasing her about.) It had gotten to the point where they were dancing on top of tables, and some of the dance moves were so atrocious he was surprised he didn’t hear a laugh coming from the opposite end of the couch. He looked over to see Robin knocked out, neck awkwardly arched on the arm of the seat.

Confused, Steve checked the time on his watch and realised that it was two in the morning, and he’d kept his friend up to deflect from his inability to sleep with other people around without even realising. As any good friend would do, he got up and stopped the movie - of which he wasn’t totally engrossed in, anyway - and picked up the passed out girl to drag her to the guest room. That typical bridal style and when Robin slightly woke up all she did was make a very, very slow “muh” of approval. It was a struggle, as the girl kept wriggling (she always does in her sleep), but Steve managed to climb those stairs and plonk her into the guest bed without any complaints. The room was achingly dark, but Steve wasn’t the one sleeping in it, so who cares.

When the girl finally settled, the athlete moped his way to his bedroom, knowing he was going to have to spend the next few hours in complete and utter silence. He was not sleeping tonight. He’d rather go crazy from lack of sleep than have to talk to Robin about what he’s “feeling inside”. Blah. No one wants to talk about that mushy stuff. Well, wrong, Steve really wanted to talk about that mushy stuff, but not his. He wanted to be there for his friends.

His room was the same as before, but it was dark. The moon broke through the gaps between the window pains with sharp rectangular shapes, settling on the bed with slightly crumpled sheets due to his friends sitting on it. His room had a beautiful view of the outside, it really, truly did. The trees arching tall and strong with their sage leaves barely contrasting with the sky, of which no stars were shining. Not even one. Clouds smothered each and every one of them. It was a shock that the moon wasn’t affected by this too, but Steve’s brain was way too befogged to think about it. He was just so tired.

Folded pyjamas were chosen at random from a drawer, some plaid bottoms, they were grey, with black - and a little bit of white - checkers. Simple. Along with a simple jade green shirt, short sleeved with a big cartoon on it’s chest. Garfield. Yes, Garfield, the beloved little cat, smack bang on his chest. It was only his head, slightly tilted to the left, with his tongue poking out at the right side of his smile. The shirt wasn’t his. It was a gift. Well, technically he stole it. He didn’t choose it for himself.

Eddie left it once when he slept over, then decided to not call when he came over to ‘pick up the shirt’ (he had weed and chinese, he was obviously just using it as an excuse to hang out), and Steve was wearing said shirt. It was tight on him, but in the most comforting way, tugged in all the right places. It wasn’t for people his size, it was for people like Eddie. He felt a bit creepy, really. Why was he wearing his friend’s shirt when he wasn’t here? It was totally weird. Steve didn’t mean it to be, he just chose one at random and wore it for a few hours and had to answer a knock at the door. He didn’t really notice it. He remembers how Eddie’s grin was wiped clean off of his face, and he buffered a second before giggling and asking why on Earth was Steve wearing his shirt. Then he let him keep it. 

He’s kept it ever since.

Bright white lights caught him off guard as Steve entered his bathroom. He was met with a man in the mirror who’s bags were very apparent and his hair was now sticking in places it usually never did. It was messy. Of course it was messy when everyone had left. He placed it on the chair that sat in between his sink and bath. Shedding his necktie, he started to unbutton his shirt, his jacket already left downstairs, and threw his button up in a laundry basket. 

There it was. Those bandages that had been replaced and reattached to his skin everyday for the past two months. He sighed while opening the cabinet to find more of what you’d need to replace them again, daily routines and all. They weren’t bleeding, but that weird gunk was starting to occur and it’d make life easier if they were to accidentally open up again. Most of the little scars were healing and scabbing over, but the deep ones still needed some coverage. 

It’s funny. If Eddie was here Steve could’ve helped him cover his bites. He isn’t, though, so Steve is stuck here without the ability to help him. 

Steve placed the bandages right back where they were before after he’d finished. Sliding on Eddie’s shirt, he let out a hiss as the stretch snagged his bandages, then let out another when putting on the pyjama bottoms squished them as well. He took one last look in the mirror and glanced at his toothbrush and decided he was too tired to brush his teeth. He always feels disgusting when his tiredness gives him the inability to commit to basic hygiene, but he guesses not everything’s perfect. 

His pillows were cold to the touch, just how he liked them. He enjoyed how his bed was always so crispy cold and how only his body was slowly able to feed the warmth into the sheets. 

Okay, that sounds a bit weird, but it was something he noticed when he was a kid. Young Steve was always waiting to be warm, he’d find any way to achieve it. He hated being cold and that’s never changed. He’d always seek it out and, eventually, when he came to terms that his parents would never give it to him, he became very obsessed with blankets. Any kind of blanket or duvet. It’s weird, right? If Steve was ever in a bad mood, all he’d need was a blanket and sooner or later he’d be fine. So, yeah, to say Steve has a weird little obsession - derived from good old parental neglect - with blankets is fair and very, very true.

It worked. His worries about not sleeping as his best friend, who he is keeping everything about himself secret from, is in the room next to him washed away. Not completely. There’s still that little stain that needs a bit more effort to clean off the plate, but as of now it’s ignorable. It was weird how comfortable he felt knowing Robin was in the room beside him. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in his bed in a very long time.

Concerningly comfortable.

And if Steve was any smarter, he would’ve picked up on his eyes becoming ever so heavy. Very heavy. Drainingly heavy. And if Steve was any smarter, he would’ve sat up against his headboard, or gone downstairs to find anything to distract himself. Unfortunately, Steve is not any smarter. So, into the blissful escape called sleep he went. Or in his case, the reliving of hell itself.

Dustin’s shaking shoulders and clunky boots at the end of the body the boy was hovering over were the first thing Steve noticed when his vision was able to focus. Robin and Nancy were trailing behind him, Robin fangirling over how cool Nancy looked shooting Vecna to shit. Yes, they had killed Vecna and Nancy was the one who finished it all, so she does deserve a little praise. Thing is, because Vecna is dead this means they have a very short amount of time until the gates close, and they had no idea how short that time was. Steve picked up his pace and that’s when he could hear the most ragged breaths he had ever heard in his life, mixing with a weird snorting sound that hid in the back of whoever it was coming from’s throat with every other inhale. 

“I love you too.” Dustin broke into a sob and leaned over the man in his lap even more. Robin and Nancy eventually slowed to a stop behind Steve as his head poked forward a bit more to confirm what he was seeing, and when it was confirmed he hated it. That fire from victory was immediately extinguished. Two beady eyes looked up at him and that stupid grin crept on his face.

“Hey, it’s Stevie.” The voice croaked. A tiny laugh was pulled out of the man’s chest. Steve turned around and ushered the two women to go to the gate, and through a lot of convincing they gave in and ran.

A different voice grabbed his attention, Dustin’s head was twisted towards- “Steve, I really tried to stop him, it wasn’t my fault I sw-”

“Hey!” The man winced at the volume of his voice and he took a few breaths while the other two kept his attention on him, “We know it was all me, Henderson. Don’t ever blame yourself, okay?”

The boy managed a quick ‘okay’. Steve rushed down to the ground and his entire body stuttered a second as his brain finally supplied the name of the body on the ground in front of him. Yeah, oh shit, yeah, this was Eddie. Eddie Munson was currently dying right in front of him. Oh, this was happening. The athlete looked up towards the sky. It had no stars. He never really paid attention to that before, but there wasn’t a single star in this hellhole’s sky. Looking back down at Eddie, he let out a shaky sigh and put his hand on Dustin’s shoulder, not moving his eyes.

“Go to the gate.” His eyes were wide and fluttering slightly. Was this the right thing to do? What was even happening right now? Is this even real? Is Vecna actually dead, and if he isn't, is Steve about to die? Is Steve dying right now?

His hand was shrugged off the boy’s shoulder, “What? Have you gone mad? I’m not-”

“Dustin.” Eddie was stern. It was definitely a tone that Steve had heard before, Steve being a complete and utter scumbag and all, but that's besides the point. “I think, just for once, you should listen to Harrington.”

“No. No! What? I’m not gonna do that, don’t be stupid. Not without Eddie-” Once again, Dustin was cut off but by Steve this time.

“Dustin, go to the gate. Now.” Steve was looking directly at the teen now. He saw the tears that had stained his face and how they had clouded bloodshot eyes. Snot drooled out of his nose and his features were reddened, veins popping slightly out of his forehead. 

But as always, the teen persisted. “No! I’m not leaving him.”

“Yeah, well if you don’t go it’ll be you or him, do you really want that?” It was a lie. If Dustin didn’t go there wouldn't really be any choice and everyone knew it. Did they want to admit it? No.

Steve started pushing Dustin away while simultaneously hooking one arm underneath the man’s shoulders, forcing the boy to back away. Eddie hissed as he was now sat up a bit more in the athlete’s arms. The teen let out a very agitated sigh, eyes flicking all over the place between the two men and he hesitated before speaking. He directed his face towards Eddie, “You are not allowed to even blink a millisecond longer than usual, do you understand me?” 

Both Steve and Eddie managed to laugh at their friend’s constant bossing around ,”Yeah, yeah I understand, kid.”

“Steve!” A yell brought him out of his beauty sleep and he recognised the girl shaking his shoulders slightly. The athlete groaned and reached his hands up to his face to rub his eyes. He muttered a ‘huh’ and heard a sigh come from Robin. She muttered something but all that he could hear was nightmare. Steve shot up and stared at his duvet as he tried to settle down his breathing. This was not what he wanted to talk about right now. “I had a nightmare.” She reiterated a lot more clearly.

The man turned his head slowly towards his friend to see if she was serious, and she was. She looked absolutely riddled with dread. Steve nodded slowly and moved up towards the other side on his bed so the girl could lay next to him.

Robin did this a lot. When she slept over, if she had a nightmare she’d sneak into Steve’s bed. They’d sleep back to back, not touching, besides when their legs accidentally stretched causing them to tangle. The presence of each other in their space was enough. Steve was, in a way, grateful that he got drugged by Russian guards, because then he’d never have Robin. Not like this. Not as the best friend he had ever had and hopefully the only best friend he ever will have. Everything’s going to be okay as long as he’s got her and vice versa. They both know that. 

Silence played out until Steve realised how deep in thought he was and realised he hadn’t tried to console his friend yet. “Do you want to talk about it?” There wasn’t a response, but even though they were back to back, he could tell that she wasn’t asleep. “Taking that as a no.”

“Hey, you were mumbling in your sleep, what were you dreaming about?” Robin deflected. Obviously, this was not something he wanted to talk about.

“I had a dream that Kieth got a really hot babe in Family Video after she rejected me.” Eliciting a genuine laugh from Robin. They both decided to keep quiet. Happily keep quiet. The silence was comforting. 

One day he’ll tell Robin about everything. One day. But not today. He wasn’t ready to talk about it. Everything was so complicated and no one but Eddie knew the intricacies of it. Steve wasn’t sure if he would ever want anyone to know about them, but he knew for sure he didn’t want them knowing now. It’s way too soon. He hadn’t even come to terms with the situation himself, he could barely get the courage to even try to think about it. It’s too soon. It’s too early. It’s too raw. Maybe he’ll talk about it later. Maybe.

He just has to wait and see.