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He was late, he was late, he was late.
The snow was falling in fast, fat snowflakes against Steve’s windshield as he drove to Reefer Rick’s. He was supposed to have stopped by last night with a food run for Eddie, but his parents had made a surprise trip home and forced him into dinner. Steve had figured it was okay; he knew Nancy had made enough for Eddie to eat comfortably for a few days. What he didn't plan on was the snow that fell overnight.
Steve shivered as he drove, already feeling chilled in his sweatshirt and bomber jacket. He pulled off the road and parked. They’d all agreed to be cautious when making a grocery run, so they’d decided to not pull up directly to Reefer Rick's house, but instead, park outside the woods nearby.
For some reason, Steve’s chest felt tighter than usual and there was a slow pit of worry brewing in his abdomen. He shook it off; Eddie was fine.
Now, as Steve stepped out into the near-blizzard, he shivered again. He wished he’d brought a hat, cursing his need for perfect hair over warmth.
He’d packed the usual things for Eddie in a plastic bag: a few large containers of chili and one of cornbread courtesy of Hopper, a package of Eggo waffles also from Hopper, and Steve had picked up tea, bread, Honeycomb cereal, and a few YooHoos. As many rumors as Steve had heard about Eddie, he’d never would have guessed the man liked sugar so much.
The walk from the hidden parking spot to Reefer Rick’s place was usually quick, but with the added snow and slush, Steve found himself stomping through the cold, snowy ground. By the time he arrived, he was shivering, hoping that he could make some tea or something before he left.
As he approached the door, he tried the handle and found it stuck.
He tried it again.
Still, it didn’t open.
Steve shivered and cursed, looking at the windows and the doorframe; maybe he was missing something. He tried the door again.
Nothing.
He knocked again, and when there was no response, he knocked again. He stamped his legs as he shivered again.
Fuck, it was cold. Where was Eddie?
It was far too late in the day for the man to be asleep, and it wasn't like he’d brought his drugs out here and accidentally overdosed. It was a risk, but Steve took a chance to call for him, hoping for Eddie’s usual buoyant hello to greet him at the door.
“Eddie?” Steve half-whispered, his face against the window.
Nothing.
The wind blew harder, and Steve cursed. The window didn’t reveal enough to see inside and Steve’s breath clouded the glass as he breathed against it.
“Eddie?” he called, louder. He’d given up on being secretive.
There was no response and no movement from inside.
Steve’s heart thudded in his chest, unsure of what to do next. He placed the groceries off to the side of the door, contemplating running back to the car for his bat. That’s when the boatshed caught his eye.
Maybe there? Would he be in there? What if Vecna had somehow returned and taken him?
There wasn’t time for a trip back to the car. Still, Steve wished for some sort of weapon. He looked down at the bag and grabbed a bottle of YooHoo.
It was glass, maybe it could knock a person out?
He grasped the YooHoo bottle by the neck and headed slowly to the boat shed.
“Eddie?” he whispered as he stepped into the dark shed. He hated that he was alone, and more than anything, he wished for his bat. Maybe he should’ve gone back to the car after all. He gripped the YooHoo bottle tighter, stepping into the shed and trying to blink enough to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Steve slowly made his way through the dark shed. It smelled like old fish and dusty tarp. The boats had been taken in at the end of summer, so the two spots sloshed water, empty and wide. Steve peered slightly into the dark water, almost expecting Eddie’s body to be floating at the top.
“Eddie?” he called. When he turned around to the corner of the shed, Steve froze.
Eddie was on his side on the floor. His legs were pulled up loosely to his chest, and his long hair fanned out against the shed floor.
Steve lunged forward and was at Eddie’s side in a second, patting Eddie’s cheek. Under his hand, Eddie’s skin felt like ice.
How long had he been out here? Had he gotten locked out and been staying in the shed?
“Eddie? Shit, Eddie, come on, open your eyes.” Steve felt everything in him tighten in worry. The man wasn’t moving. Eddie’s eyes were closed, looking almost peaceful. He could have easily been asleep.
“Come on, Eddie. Open your eyes for me, come on.” Steve urged, patting the man’s cheek. His heart thudded unevenly in his chest and despite the cold, he felt sweaty and scared.
Steve felt for a pulse on Eddie’s chilled neck. Relief flooded through him as he felt Eddie’s heartbeat fluttering against his fingers; Eddie’s breathing was shallow, but Steve was relieved to hear it at all.
Steve could feel just how frozen the man was just by leaning over him. He patted Eddie’s cheek, almost slapping him in desperation, hoping that Eddie’s brown eyes would slide open.
“Eddie?” His own voice was racked with shivers; the boatshed was hardly warmer than outside.
As cold as he was, Eddie wasn’t shivering and he was dressed far too simply for cold weather. Eddie wore his usual torn jeans and shoes, and his battered Hellfire shirt. His face was dirty and stained, as if he’d been staying in the shed rather than the house.
Steve cursed, knowing the signs of hypothermia from swimming. But what was the first step? He could hardly remember as he tried to ignore how still the man was and how cold he felt.
Get him warm. He had to get him warm.
Steve’s mind shut off as he scooped Eddie in his arms, cursing as the man’s freezing body hung limply in his arms. Eddie’s head lolled to the side and Steve’s heart dropped. He found himself gasping in panic as he half-ran back to the house, careful not to jostle Eddie.
Steve groaned at the sight of the door but then frowned. If he could handle Russian guards, he could handle a stuck door. He aimed and then kicked at the door, aiming for right below the lock. His foot thudded against the wood but didn’t move.
Steve carefully adjusted Eddie’s unconscious form in his arms, and lined up again, leaning hard on his left leg.
What if he couldn’t get in?
He shook the thought away. This had to work. He lined up again and aimed his next kick below the lock.
The door banged open and Steve jumped in surprise. He’d done it. He wasted no time rushing inside, getting Eddie to Reefer Rick’s threadbare couch to lay him on his side. It wasn’t much of a couch as it leaned off to one side and one armrest ripped off. But it had to do and Steve was glad there was a couch there at all.
Steve instantly started shrugging out of his own jacket and then his crewneck sweater.
“Eddie? We’ve gotta get you warm, okay?” Steve coached, trying to keep himself calm.
He helped Eddie to sit up, grimacing in worry at Eddie’s frozen body. The man’s skin was a pale white and his eyelids and lips were tinted blue. Eddie stayed slumped against him and Steve felt panic begin to creep up the back of his spine.
Eddie still wasn’t shivering. Wasn’t that a bad sign?
Steve worked quickly to dress Eddie in his clothes. Maybe his warmth would be enough to warm him? Steve wished he brought a hat, but did his best to push Eddie’s hair closer to his head. Maybe that would keep him warmer? The house itself was warmer, but not by much. Would it be enough?
He laid Eddie back on the couch and ran to the kitchen. His mind was racing. He needed a way to get Eddie warm.
Steve was sure that there was no hot water, and to even get Eddie into a bath that was comfortable seemed far-fetched. The sink was too small for much of anything and Steve let out an audible groan of annoyance. There had to be something.
He spotted the small pile of plastic bags from when Nancy had dropped off groceries. Maybe those but to fill them with water wouldn’t work…
He had to try.
The kitchen was smaller than he remembered, and he was thankful to find a lone kettle on the stove. Steve filled it and held his breath as he turned on the stove. Thankfully, it clicked a few times before the flame appeared.
Steve tried to remember to breathe as he searched the bottom cabinets and drawers for towels. Maybe if he could pour the hot water on the towels and wrap them in the plastic bags…
It was unconventional, but Steve had no other ideas. Steve grabbed a few and set them in the sink to prepare. The cabinets were empty but the bottom drawer was filled with towels haphazardly shoved in. Steve felt another shudder of relief rush through him and sent a silent thank you to Reefer Rick for even having towels.
He dashed to the bedroom to find blankets and found a few. He lay them carefully over Eddie, tucking them in to preserve Eddie’s warmth as much as possible.
Eddie lay still as ever; it was almost unnerving. Steve was so used to Eddie’s energetic presence and now, he found himself pleading for its return. He patted Eddie’s cheek.
“Come on, Munson. Open your eyes. Come on.” He glanced back at the kettle, knowing it would take a few minutes to boil. Steve wasted no time and climbed onto the couch, carefully laying beside Eddie so he was in front of him. He wriggled so that his arm could hook around and pull Eddie’s body closer.
Steve held as still as possible, knowing it was bad to jar or shock the body. But he was worried and scared, and he could feel his own panic still coursing around his nerves.
“Please be okay,” he whispered into Eddie’s hair as he held him. “Please be okay. Please.”
They’d nearly lost him enough times, and after Steve helped pull a mangled Eddie from the Upside Down, Steve vowed that was the last near-death experience Eddie was allowed to have.
“You’re gunna be fine, okay, Munson? I’m going to get you warm. I’ve can get you warm,” Steve said, clinging to his words like a mantra.
The kettle whistled and Steve untangled himself from Eddie slowly and then set to work. He poured hot water over the towels and used a spoon to squeeze out the excess hot water. He ran cool water over the hot towels. The last thing he wanted to do was burn Eddie or shock his body and once they were still warm but not hot, he wrapped them in the plastic bags.
He carried them to Eddie and laid them on his chest, lower abdomen and under his arms. Eddie didn’t move as Steve worked and Steve did his best to keep calm.
“You’ll be fine, okay? Just hold on, Eddie, you’re gunna be fine. You’ll be warm soon,” Steve continued.
His pulse roared in his ears. What if this wasn’t right? What if he’d done it wrong and Eddie would die? Steve ran a hand through his hair as he tucked the blankets closer to Eddie. He had to keep as much warmth in as possible.
They had all agreed to not make calls from the house, but had set up a system for emergencies. They’d all memorized the number to the phone that they’d set up in the AV club room; Dustin had gone out of his way to make sure that even Steve had it memorized. He dialed that number now and on the second ring, Will picked up.
Steve wasted no time and explained the situation, telling Will to call his mom and get her down here as soon as possible. On the other end, Will jumped into action mode, already relaying the message to Mike.
“Get Joyce here as fast as you can, okay?” Steve urged. He knew he couldn’t call the hospital; if Hawkins got their hands on Eddie, he’d be jailed or worse. He was all Eddie had right now and Steve swallowed down the rest of his panic and went back to hold Eddie.
Steve pressed his face against Eddie’s hair, still whispering encouragement and pleas, tears pricking at his eyes.
It was four minutes before Eddie began to shiver.
It was another minute before Eddie’s thin voice moaned from the mound of blankets. Steve rushed out a relieved sigh, never so thankful to hear Eddie’s teeth knocking together. He sat up carefully and climbed off the couch so he faced Eddie again.
"St–v?” Eddie moaned through his shivers. His eyes were barely open and his entire body shivered.
“Shh, it’s okay Eddie, you’re okay. You’re okay,” Steve chanted. “We’re warming you up, and Joyce is on her way with some help, okay?” He pushed Eddie’s hair out of his face, biting his lip at Eddie’s cold skin.
“St–” Eddie moaned again, his eyes fluttering closed again.
“No, no,” Steve urged. “You gotta stay awake, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.” He stroked Eddie’s cheek, and let out a small breath as Eddie’s eyes, barely half-mast, stayed on him.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Steve encouraged. “You’re going to be okay.”
He sat up suddenly as he heard the crunch of wheels pull up to the house.
Joyce.
Steve had never been so happy to hear her car’s engine. As much as he knew he could do this, he also knew he needed help. And as Steve took another look at Eddie repeated his words with more certainty.
“You’re gunna be okay.”