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for now, we are here

Summary:

“They gave me some scrubs when we got here for your emergency surgery. Didn’t want to run around the hospital half naked and with all these nasty wounds out.”

“Emergency surgery?”

Steve looks at him like he’s a little stupid.

“Dude. You basically flat lined.”

After fighting Vecna and almost dying a heroic death, Eddie Munson spends his days recovering in a hospital room. Steve Harrington is there to keep him company.

Notes:

Something took over me and I couldn't rest until I finished this. I also wrote most of it around 3 am, after this GIF inspired me, so maybe that explains it all. This was also incredibly hard to tag and summarize, so please do tell me if I forgot anything important.

A big shout-out and thank you as always to my wonderful beta reader sol! She will be dealing with my next very long TXT fic soon, too.

Lastly, thank you so much for reading, and please mind the tags.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

When Eddie comes to, he’s sure he has died.

He barely manages to pry his eyes open and feels like he’s got to fight an invisible force to actually unstick his lids. But when he does, he’s surrounded by white.

Everything is so pristine and blinding, he thinks he’s actually somehow made it into heaven. It’s only when he tries to sit up and feels the uncomfortable tugging sensation of an IV-drip stuck to the back of his hand that Eddie understands. He’s in a hospital.

Despite the less than pleasant feeling of the needle in his hand, he does not seem to be in any pain though, which means the drugs they had probably given him must be doing their job.

Somehow, his very first coherent thought is: I can not afford this.

After that comes the panic.

Memories are tripping over each other in their rush to the forefront of his brain, and the onslaught is so deeply overwhelming that for a second, Eddie worries he’s going to pass out from the sheer pressure of it. It’s too much, too soon.

There are glimpses of himself, hammering nails into a shield, a faint voice, don’t try to be a hero , the first cord of a familiar song, Eddie, man, don’t do this to me , searing pain, the flapping of hundreds of wings, Steve

For a moment, Eddie feels like he is drowning in the images, multicolored and loud and all at once. He makes it through the wave though and, slowly, the sensation of sharp teeth digging into his flesh ebbs away. When it finally passes completely, he’s cold and hollow. It’s like the bats had actually managed to scoop him out from the inside, leaving him with gaping wounds all over. But when he looks down at his body, bandages are still holding him together tightly. 

“It’s probably going to leave a little scar.”

Eddie flinches at the voice, and the gauze all over his chest strains with it. Slowly, he turns his head to find one Steve Harrington sitting next to his bed, long legs stretched out on the only cheap plastic chair in the room.

He’s wearing weird old scrubs and beaten trainers, which he scuffs against the linoleum floor, seemingly more uncomfortable the longer Eddie stares at him in confused silence. 

“Harrington?” A pause. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Steve stares at him, and Eddie fights the urge to groan. His brain seriously must have lost its ability to prioritize. He wonders if this is what getting bitten by demobats does to you.

“That’s what you’re interested in?” Steve raises a perfectly tended to eyebrow, and Eddie can’t help but wonder how he had managed to keep up his beauty routine during the hell of a week they have all been through.

When Eddie doesn’t humor him with a reply, he simply sighs. “They gave me some nurse scrubs when we got here for your emergency surgery. Didn’t want to run around the hospital half naked and with all these nasty wounds out.”

He vaguely points to his abdomen, where they both know the bats had taken a chunk out of him. The wound is now covered by the blue-grayish shirt he’s wearing, and Eddie severely hopes they had taken proper care of it when they brought both of them here. For –

“Emergency surgery?”

Steve looks at him like he’s a little stupid. 

“Dude. You basically flat lined.”

The three words are enough to make goosebumps rise on his skin as a sudden shiver takes over his body. He can feel himself panic again, and his fingers start twisting around strands of his own hair nervously, the way they had done way too much lately. It’s as if he’s grasping for something to steady himself, something tangible and real. To prove that he’s still here. In this reality. Alive.

Steve seems to notice the effect of his sentence. He quickly comes closer and his face is full of regret when he says, “Shit, sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. Promise you’re all fine now.” 

He tries a smile, but it comes out all wrong, more of a grimace than anything else. It looks just like it did when he had tried to explain the whole Upside Down to him, superpowered children and monsters lurking just beneath the surface – quite literally.

“I thought I …” Eddie thinks about the blood on his lips, and a coppery taste fills his mouth as he thinks about the muddy ground and stormy clouds of the other world. “Actually died.”

Steve sighs and leans forward. “You did. Kind of. We managed to get to you in time. Dustin and Robin were dragging you out while I fought off what was left of those nasty things.“ He grins proudly. “I won a fight. Can you believe it?”

Eddie has no idea what he’s talking about, but he still tries to smile along with him. There’s no way to shake off the horror of it all, though. They somehow must have managed to drag him through the Gate, after the bats had stopped trying to murder them on sight. He remembers the lull in their attacks when the others had taken Vecna down. While he had been bleeding out, playing the hero.

He doesn’t remember when he had lost consciousness, but as he looks at Steve, it slowly dawns on him.

“You saved my life.” 

Steve grows visibly uncomfortable, and Eddie can see the way his mouth immediately starts forming around words of protest. There’s no way he’s letting him undermine what he’s done, though, which is why Eddie does the only thing he can think of to show his gratitude. He angles his body towards Steve, though it proves to be difficult with all the wires and bandages holding him back. When he manages, though, he pulls him into a tight hug. 

And it should be weird, really. Eddie “The Freak” Munson and King Steve “The Hair” Harrington, hugging in a hospital room, covered in demobat-bites. Who would have strung these words together in a sentence a mere year ago? Even the position they are in is off, their bodies not quite knowing what to do with each other, not quite aligning. 

But somehow, none of that matters to Eddie right now because this ex-jock turned babysitter turned hero had saved his fucking life .

“You should get some rest,“ Steve tells him as soon as they let go of each other. There’s an emotion in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher. It’s off-putting because there’s not a lot he takes pride in, but he knows he can read people pretty well. Before he can make any sense of it, though, Steve has already gotten up to leave. 

Sleep pulls Eddie under even before he can hear the soft click of the door shutting.

 

The next time Eddie wakes, Steve is there once again, his back against the pearly white wall of the hospital room. Next to him is a little table that Eddie hadn’t paid any attention to previously, but the sudden sprawl of cards, flowers and chocolates catches his eye.

“Woah, where does that come from?”

“Your secret admirers, sleepyhead.” Steve smirks, grabbing one at random. “ Dear Eddie , I’ve been in love with you ever since I first laid eyes on your beautiful long hair, your chocolate brown eyes and the denim of your favorite vest.” 

His voice is high-pitched and terrible, and Eddie really, really wishes it wouldn’t make him laugh like this. 

“Moron,” he tells him, giggling against the strain of his bandages. A beat later, a realization dawns on him and his grin grows sly. “Someone paid close attention, huh?”

Steve looks taken aback by that, probably just as surprised by being called out as Eddie is by his own words. He then starts blushing, waving his hand as if to physically erase what he said. “I told you that’s from your secret admirer. Don’t flatter yourself too much.” 

Eddie laughs and pretends the tug in his gut is just from the healing of his wounds, the floaty feeling the effect of the pain relievers. 

It’s easier that way, for both of them.

He slowly bends forward to grab the glass of water on his nightstand, and his gaze falls onto the messy handwriting on one of the cards.

Get well soon, Eddie. Please wake up.

Immediately, he feels his mouth drying up, as if someone had stuffed a bunch of cotton balls into it. He tries to lick the roof of his mouth to get rid of it, wets his lips as his hands begin to tingle uncomfortably.

“Steve?”

The other man’s eyes immediately grow alert at his tone, and he follows Eddie’s line of view until he notices what he’s staring at. 

“Did you not tell the others that I’m okay?”

Steve takes the card and flips it over, shaking his head. “The doctors weren’t sure when you would wake back up after the surgery. The kids must have made them before they knew.” 

When he says, but Eddie knows he means if . If Eddie woke back up. If his body could handle healing after being attacked like that. If if if –

“Oh.” 

It’s hard to wrap his mind around, though he really shouldn’t be this surprised after basically getting his guts torn apart by literal monsters. There just hadn’t been enough time inbetween Chrissy levitating in front of his eyes and dying to him almost dying himself mere days later in a twisted version of their own reality. He’s not used to this, not like the others are. 

They had told him stories, Dustin and Robin, in the few and far apart quiet moments they had had. Of a nail-covered bat and an old family home, of a man named Hopper and this boy Will’s mother. Something about a genius girl – my girlfriend Suzy – in front of a radio and a secret Russian base. He still remembers the lull in the conversation and how Steve and Robin had huddled closer together at the mention.

He looks at Steve now, and it’s such a cliché, but Eddie can see it all engraved on his face. There’s not much left of King Steve, his soft features and arrogant sneer now gone and replaced with worry lines and chapped lips. Eddie also knows about the reassuring smile he keeps reserved for the kids, his kids, even if he hides it from them. Their babysitter, as he had learned. It’s hard to imagine, impossible to the Eddie from two weeks ago. But now? 

Now Steve Harrington is protectiveness and love and determination all wrapped into a 5 foot 11 man with stupidly perfect hair and wounds edged into his body and mind. 

“Eddie?” 

Said Steve Harrington is now looking at him with a face full of concern. Concern for him.

Eddie has never stood a chance when it came to falling in love with him.

 

“Did they change these?”

Another day has passed, and Eddie softly pokes a finger into the bandages around his chest. They feel less tight now, and the skin underneath has started feeling itchy. It’s a nightmare and a half.

“Yeah, a nurse came in while you were still knocked out. They’re probably giving you some insane meds through that thing,” Steve tells him, gently knocking his foot against the IV-drip stand. 

The action pops a question into his head, and he wonders how he hadn’t noticed it earlier. “Not to offend you, Harrington, but why do I only ever see you in here when I wake up?” 

Steve laughs, all teeth. “Why? Getting bored of me?“

“Not at all, you –”, Eddie starts, pointing both of his index fingers at him in a flourish. “Make for surprisingly good company.” He grins at Steve’s pleased little smile.

“I was just wondering. Thought my good uncle would come by once in a while.”

It’s hard to pretend like he isn’t hurt by the lack of visits, though he cannot say for sure who’s here and who isn’t whenever he’s not awake.

Steve plucks a box of chocolates from the little table and opens it without any shame. As he pops one into his mouth, he says, “They actually only allowed one person in, and I’m the best you got for now. Maybe your uncle wrote you a card.” He grins. “If you could just move your ass over here, you would know.” 

Eddie stares at him in mock offense then, mouth comically wide open. "How dare you. I am injured , Harrington. You could do me a favor and bring them over here.“

At this, Steve’s smile falls. “You should probably recover some more before you get a look at these. Don’t want you to get overwhelmed reading, I don’t know if the gremlins included any nasty details of what happened.”

Eddie nods slowly, though he can’t imagine these kids would want to traumatize him any further immediately after his surgery. He also can’t quite shake the weird feeling in his chest. Of course he’s glad to have Steve’s attention and knows he’s probably the best for the job of watching over him while he’s in here. Dustin and the others must all be getting their proper rest right now, and he hopes Nancy and Robin are taking care of each other in the aftermath of all of this too.

Thinking about them prompts the fact that Eddie has no idea how the others are or what they went through in the Creel house. If Max is okay after playing bait for Vecna or how Dustin is recovering from seeing him basically get torn to shreds by demonic creatures. His mind begs for him to ask Steve, but he’s fairly certain that the guy won’t tell him shit until he has made more progress in his recovery.

“Eddie?”

He replies “Yeah?” and halts. It must have happened a dozen times during however much time had passed between them ever since Eddie had woken up here, but it had taken him until now to notice. 

Steve calls him Eddie. Not Munson.

Just Eddie.

It’s stupid how it catches him off guard now. He can basically feel an actual blush creeping onto his cheeks and almost physically has to stop his fingers from reaching out and playing with his hair like a teenager with a crush.

“Since when are you calling me Eddie?” He laughs, feeling awkward now. “Thought this was a Munson-Harrington kinda thing?”

To his surprise, Steve doesn’t laugh. No snide remark, no smartassness. 

Instead, he smiles, and it looks all sad on his face. “I figured we’ve been through enough shit by now.” It sounds like a plea when he adds, “We’re friends, right?”

As if Steve Harrington of all people needs Eddie Munson to confirm that this is what they are. No more strangers, never enemies. Friends.

Eddie tries not to look too startled as he nods and tells him “Yes, of course we are.” He wishes his teeth wouldn’t hurt with how much he has to bite back the words he actually wants to say. 

“I wish we could be more even, Steve.”

Instead, he keeps them close to his heart, where they can’t hurt him or Steve or whatever friendship they had managed to forge in the hell of the Upside Down.

“Good.” Steve smiles and the sadness is gone just like that.

They spend the rest of their time, until Eddie inevitably falls back asleep, talking about the lives they’d lived before each other.

 

And the days go on like this. Steve is there every time Eddie wakes up, though the older feels so fuzzy all the time that it’s difficult to make out where day and night starts. For all he knows, all of their talks could have happened in a single day, maybe two or just a mere hour.

Steve’s constant presence is a reassurance that slowly but steadily eases the strain in his limbs and the heavy weight on his chest. He still won’t let Eddie read any of the cards, but he promises that Uncle Wayne and the kids would visit when he’s feeling a little better, Nancy and Robin too. 

“They all want to see your mug so badly,” he grins, and Eddie threatens to beat him up as soon as his body will let him.

It comes so easy to them now, bantering and what could skitter on the line of flirting if Eddie didn’t know that Steve “The Hair” Harrington only likes pretty girls in between his sheets. He tries to not let it hurt as much, but when Steve bids him goodbye one day and actually reaches out to ruffle his hair – just to annoy him further, mind you – it feels like the butterflies have moved into Eddie’s rib cage to slowly stretch it out and break it whole.

 

The next time he’s there, Eddie asks him if his parents don’t get mad about him spending so much time in the hospital. He thinks about what the famous Harringtons would think about seeing them together like this, their precious golden boy and the town’s Freak. If he’s extra lucky, they are also still on the hunt for him, along with the rest of the town. 

But Steve just shakes his head and tells him his parents aren’t around much.

“They’re usually on business trips. It’s been like that for a few years now.”

Eddie tries not to note how Steve has barely just graduated, meaning he had been a teenager when his parents had started abandoning him like this. He knows what that feels like, but he has still always had Uncle Wayne.

“But you got yourself a new family anyway, eh? A bunch of rascals, a best friend and your ex?” 

For this comment, Steve actually does punch his uninjured arm a little.

 

They keep going and going, and Eddie learns about that time little Steve had managed to crash his dad’s car at age 12, a rare act of rebellion against his parents. Steve in turn learns about the time Eddie’s dad had forced his son to shave his hair. Their conversation moves into lighter territory too, with Steve admitting to having had a crush on his first grade math teacher and Eddie telling the story of his first gig with Corroded Coffin. 

It still feels strange to talk to him like that, but slowly, the picture of King Steve and his dumb group of friends pales further and further. Steve tells him about that too. About feeling forced to fit in so that people would like to be around him, unlike his parents. It’s the most vulnerable thing he has shared yet, and Eddie silently promises to keep it close to his heart -  while out loud he tells him that he likes him better when he doesn’t put up an act for anyone anyway. Though he knows it’s easier said than done.

Because Eddie has also tried to be someone he’s not. Once upon a time, he had thought this could somehow get him closer to his dad. If he just pretended to fit in. If he just pretended to like basketball and partying and girls. He doesn’t dare tell Steve that last part, but somehow, he thinks that maybe Steve understands anyway. There’s this look he wears when he listens to people intently, brows slightly furrowed and head cocked to the side. His eyes always look so troubled then, as if he somehow absorbs the feelings and troubles of everyone around him like second nature.

Eddie had quickly understood why the people close to him seemed to trust him so much. It had taken him mere days to do the same. Of course he had had to go one step further and also fall head over heels for him.

They become closer like this, through these visits. Closer than Eddie had ever dreamed possible. 

Until suddenly, Steve’s visit feels off. He barely talks and paces around the little hospital room like a wild animal in a cage. His fingers keep twitching towards his neck, as if he’s trying to rub tension from it. His hair is a mess, too, and Eddie would be lying if he said the sight of it doesn’t shake him to his very core.

What feels like a few minutes in, the pacing stops. Steve turns around to look at him, and Eddie feels his heart drop at his wild gaze, pupils suddenly blown wide and alert.

“Shit,” he exclaims and staggers forward, towards the bed. “I need to leave, but you need to promise me something.”

Eddie nods because he cannot do anything else when Steve is staring at him like this is a life or death situation.

“Promise me you are gonna take care of yourself. Don’t do anything stupid. You have to – “, he interrupts himself, then continues, "Just, for me, yeah? Please do it for me. And the others. I know you can.“

And with that, Steve Harrington leans forward, searches Eddie Munson's eyes and finds something to keep going. So he kisses him. And then he leaves.

 

Despite the reputation of the trailer park and the prejudices the people of Hawkins like to weave around it, Eddie has not once in his life felt unsafe in it. He’s used to the comforting and controlled mess of Uncle Wayne’s and his little space in it, the sounds of creaking metal and the occasional stray party goers who get lost there. It’s even soothing, somehow, when the older folks who live in the park eventually usher them out, lecturing about how being too poor to afford one of their mansions doesn’t strip the people in the park off their right for privacy and peace.

Another thing to note is that despite the shitty insulation and even worse electricity, Eddie has never felt particularly cold or experienced a longer outage in his home. 

It’s why the sudden plunge into darkness and what must be below zero temperatures completely throws him off guard. 

For a few horrifying moments, Eddie is convinced he’s back in the Upside Down. He remembers the eerie light in that place, grays and reds and black nasty goo everywhere. There also hadn’t been any chance to warm up, the place freezing you in right along with all the people that had already died in it. Because of it.

Factually, though, he knows he’s still in the hospital. The IV-drip constantly at work in his arm is a tell-tale sign, and he can make out the faint buzzing of monitoring machines. 

“Steve?” He sounds scared even to his own ears, and it feels silly to call out for a guy who sure as hell wouldn’t be here in what might just be the middle of the night. Though if it is, then Eddie has never experienced a night quite like this.

He can’t see anything. Not even the outlines of shapes, the table, or the glass of water. It’s so unnatural, so scary, and his hands start growing cold with fear. Eddie wishes that after everything that’s gone down, he wasn’t this terrified still.

“Eddie.”

It’s a teenager’s voice. It’s insistent, but so quiet that he wonders if he’s making it up.

“Eddie. Eddie, you need to wake up .”

His body starts tingling, like little needles pressing into his skin.

“You can’t stay here anymore. You need to decide.”

Suddenly, there are pictures flashing right before his eyes, like the nightmare version of a highlight reel. He sees Hawkins, searching for him, the Freak . Wayne, trying to convince them that it’s not him, he’s not the murderer they’re looking for. But the hunt goes on anyway.

“Where is he?” Eddie starts to mumble, and his voice grows loud and panicky. “Where’s Uncle Wayne?”

Instead of an answer, he gets a shot of a hospital room, of Max in a million bandages and casts. 

Then a wanted poster of him and his friends. The Hellfire Club.

Images of Chrissy and Vecna and –

“Eddie!” The voice calls again, and it sounds further away now, but even more insistent.

He’s still terrified. His brain can’t process the images he’d just seen or what they mean. What the girl’s voice means when she tells him to wake up.

He already has. He has talked to Steve countless times by now. Eddie should probably tell him about the nightmare he’s having. 

And they should talk about –

They should talk about –  

The memory of it fills him with a warmth that seems to flood his body from the inside, as if the mere reminder is able to fight off the freezing cold of this black nothingness he’s in. He thinks of Steve and his stupid hair and stupid smile, his fond gaze. Thinks of his lips on his own, the urgency of it all.

Suddenly, he thinks of the others too. Of Dustin’s screams of joy when he rolls a 20 during their campaigns, and Erica’s proud grin. He thinks of Mike and Lucas plotting a strategy, of talking to Robin and Nancy about their shitty part-time jobs and laughing despite the nightmare week they’d been having. He thinks of all of them, crowded around an old chandelier and feeling pure warmth and joy amidst the chaos.

“I want to go back,” he says without thinking about it. “I want to wake up. Please.”

And then he blacks out.

 

When Eddie comes to, he’s sure he has died.

He barely manages to pry his eyes open and feels like he has to fight an invisible force to actually unstick his lids. But when he does, he’s surrounded by white.

His hospital room.

There is a nurse with him, and she’s in the middle of unhooking an IV-drip. She seems to catch his movement and smiles gently.

“So glad to see you awake, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie thinks that this is an odd thing to say, since he has been awake quite a few times by now. Maybe he hasn’t been up and running lately, but she could cut him some slack after he had almost died in a literal otherworldly fight. 

He nods at her distractedly while his eyes scan the room.

“Is Steve not here?”

The nurse hooks a new bag up, fumbling with it for a second. She sounds distracted when she asks, “Who?”

“Steve Harrington. He came by to visit me earlier.” Eddie pauses. “A few times, actually.”

He’s confused as to how she cannot know about the guy who had almost constantly been pestering him ever since he’d first woken up from his surgery.

The nurse looks at him like she had not quite heard him, though. Her voice is laced with pity when she says, “Oh, that sounds nice. No nightmares then?”

This catches him off-guard completely. What the hell is she talking about?

His face must somehow translate the exact sentiment to her, because the nurse walks to the front of the bed and slides a clipboard onto it. She then addresses him again. “We’re very happy to tell you your surgery went well. Better than expected, even. I don’t think I should be telling you this, but your friends brought you here just in time. You’re very lucky to have them, Mr. Munson.”

She then goes on to ramble about injuries and what had been done to fix them. Severe loss of blood, transfusions had been successful, managed to stitch wounds, will likely scar heavily.

Eddie only stares at her, though. Why is she only telling him this now?

With rising panic in his chest, he notices that he had not seen any nurse in here with him before. He remembers Steve in the nurse scrubs, the weird dark teal shade, and his old trainers.

His mouth starts feeling cottony again, and his fingers tremble as he tries to recall his actions during however much time had passed between them. No matter how hard he tries, though, he cannot remember a single time he had even gotten up to drink or eat or use the bathroom. The lighting had always been the same. Besides Steve, no one else had ever been there.

A sudden memory does come to him, though, and he tries to look past the nurse and at the table, where the colorful sprawl of get well soon cards and chocolates still resides. His gaze immediately catches on the card he had already seen before.

“Get well soon, Eddie. Please wake up.

His body grows cold as he takes the sentence in again and again.

He turns towards the nurse and asks, “Sorry, but have there been any other visitors already?”

She smiles at him and gently shakes her head. “We wanted to be extra careful while you still recovered from the surgery, so we didn’t let them in just yet. These teenagers were very insistent, though. Are they your siblings?”

Eddie isn’t listening to her anymore. There’s a buzzing in his mind that keeps growing louder the longer he stares at the card. His words come out too fast and too harsh when he asks, “Is Steve with them? Steve Harrington? Could you please check?”

Her eyes grow sad then and Eddie shakes his head, pointing a finger at her despite his best intentions. It feels weird and naked without his rings. “No. No, don’t say anything.” 

“Mr. Munson –.”

“I just talked to him earlier. He’s fine .”

He’s growing more hysteric by the second, he knows , but his whole body is shaking and there are stupid tears burning in his eyes.

There’s a loud crash as the door to his room bumps against the wall, and both him and the nurse flinch as a bunch of teenagers suddenly fill the bleak hospital room he just woke up in.

“Eddie,” Dustin says, and there are tears in his eyes too.

Robin follows, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in days. The expression in her eyes is another sign, another sign for how wrong all of this is, but Eddie won’t look at her. He can’t.

After her, a teenage girl joins them. Her hair is buzzed short, and she’s wearing a big flannel over a dark blue sweater.

“Eddie,” she says, like they know each other. “He managed.”

Somehow, Eddie knows this last sentence isn’t about him. 

It’s about –

“How did you do this?” 

He knows. He knows, even if his whole body and his whole mind protest against it. 

She must be the girl Steve had told him about, an eternity ago in a hiding place a hundred million light years away from here.

Superpowered.

Her expression is sad and full of pain when she says, “He helped. We didn’t know if you wanted to come back.” Her eyes fill with tears now, too. “But we needed you to come back. He did. Even if he can’t be here.”

It’s enough and not enough at all, and it breaks him right then and there. Eddie feels hot tears running down his cheeks before he even registers they’re there. His fingers grip the sheets, then his pillow as he presses his face into it and just screams , broken and hurt. 

How could he do this to him?

How could Steve leave him like this, after being with him and kissing him and giving him hope and –

How the hell does any of this even work? 

How had he been there when he had –

“He really, really cared for you,” Robin says, and Eddie knows what she actually wants to say, the tone of her voice non-disputable. 

Eddie doesn’t want it to, but somehow, it soothes something inside of him. This, at least, is real.

 

Everyone is surprised when Eddie gets discharged from the hospital a mere week later. His wounds had healed in record speed, and he almost wants to ask Eleven – that’s her name, he knows now – if she had had anything to do with it. 

His body still aches, though, and it’s difficult to say if it’s from all the time he has spent in the hospital bed or if all the emotional pain just translates into this. 

Max wakes up around the time he leaves, and all of them try to help her adjust to a life without her eyesight and the pain in her limbs. 

They have a funeral for Steve, and it’s the most painful thing Eddie has ever had to go through. 

Afterwards, they sit together, and the kids somehow manage to rope him into playing DnD with him because there’s this boy named Will who really, really wants to see him as their Dungeon Master.

It feels all kinds of wrong and all kinds of right to sit down here with them and play, with the armchair they all tell him Steve would usually sit in remaining empty. They trade stories about him like little gifts while entering a dungeon and when Eddie looks up and at the stupid worn furniture, he can almost picture him there, rolling his eyes at them. 

And smiling, because somehow, within the hell week and the one following it, Eddie had become an official part of their little family. He thinks that if they couldn’t save him, the least they can do is to give him this peace of mind. Knowing they are all safe here, with each other. All of them here, for now, never forgetting what they lost to get to this.

Notes:

My beta reader told me to put “You think Eddie dies, but then Steve does” as a summary.

Thank you again for reading!! I would really love to hear your thoughts on this, so if you want to, you can talk to (or yell at) me in the comments or on Twitter!