Chapter Text
The car ride was quiet. Too quiet, cliche enough.
Dustin looked out the window of Wayne’s truck, watching the fences go by, blending in with the trees and houses in the background. Occasionally a food place, and Wayne would quietly ask, “Wanna stop?”, and Dustin would shake his head. It was all he could do. No energy left, really.
“Eddie won’t be home, just so you know,” Wayne mentioned. “‘E’s at work.”
Dustin knew that.
He knew Eddie was at work, selling records in the next town over. Doing something he liked, something he tolerated. Steve was with Robin and Nancy and Jonothan, probably too drunk or too high to answer the phone even though it was barely seven p.m.. He knew his friends were all busy, Lucas out of town for basketball, Mike doing something with his family and Will had therapy.
Wayne was the only option.
“Son, I have no probl’m picking you up an’ taking you to the trailer, but you need to tell me something. Anything,” he man said, glancing at the kid in the passenger seat. “You hurt?”
“No.”
“Someone else?”
“No.”
“You in any sorta trouble?”
“Nope.”
Wayne studied him for a moment before mumbling, “‘S all I need to know,” eyes going back to the road.
Dustin went back to looking out the window. There was nothing else to do.
~ ~ ~
“Hey, Wayne, we’re back!” Eddie called through the trailer, pulling Steve through the door. He dumped his backpack on the stand by the door, setting his car keys in the little dish. He put his boots on the shoe rack before walking to the kitchen, Steve following.
“Eddie,” Steve groaned. “You guys are out of grape juice.”
“Well, we can go get more tomorrow then,” Eddie responded. “We need eggs, too.” He started to scribble a list on the pad on the fridge. “You should go shower, you stink.”
“Can I borrow a shirt?” Steve started putting together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Just isn’t the same without grape juice, love.”
“Go ahead, I don’t give a shit. And yes, it is completely the same.” He wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his neck. “I’m going to work on some lyrics, and then we can eat some real dinner.”
“Sure.”
He went to Eddie’s room and started looking in the closet for a change of clothes, picking out some sweatpants and a faded Corroded Coffin sweatshirt, along with a pair of Eddie’s boxers. While closing the closet door, he heard something from behind him. Glancing behind his shoulder, he noticed a lumpy shape on the bed.
He knew those curls anywhere.
He went back out into the kitchen, confused.
“Eddie, why’s Dustin in your room?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dustin, he’s asleep in your room-”
“I picked ‘im up this afternoon,” Wayne said, joining them. He put his coffee mug in the microwave, setting it for a few minutes before leaning against the grey-tiled countertop. “He called me, said he needed somewhere to go. He couldn’t be at home anymore.”
Eddie looked to Steve, who shook his head. He then turned to Wayne, asking, “Why can’t he be at home anymore.”
The older man shrugged. “No idea. Was pretty much silent on the drive here. Figured it best to let ‘im be instead a’ pushin’ it.”
“I’ll… I’ll make him something to eat and see if I can talk to him,” Eddie said. “And you can try after your shower.”
“Right. We still have that canned spaghetti, right? He always eats it at my house,” Steve added. “Come get me if you need me, showering isn’t that important-” He stopped. Thought it over. “That sounds gross out loud. It is, but… You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, we do. Now go, you smell like a rat that pissed on himself and went for a swim in the sewer,” Wayne complained, grinning at the man.
Steve laughed, setting his plate in the sink and going to shower, muttering about how he ‘did not smell’ and ‘you smell like a sewer rat, old man’, flipping both of them off as he walked out.
Eddie chuckled, pulling out one of the pots the government had given them as a ‘we’re so sorry we wrecked your house and traumatized you, here’s a new furnished house’ gift and started cooking the canned spaghetti.
“You have a look, Wayne,” Eddie noticed. “What’s up? Besides picking up one of our kids today.”
“Mentioned his mom’s boyfriend today, on the phone.”
“You think somethings up with him?” He stirred it gently, stopping the fake tomato sauce from boiling all over the stove. “Or… are you thinking, like… like Rob…”
“I’m not sure, Edd. But if it is, ya know, thought you should know beforehand.”
For just a second, Eddie saw Rob, right there. Smiling, shiny white teeth with a gold one way in the back that he lost in a bar fight when he was fifteen. Green eyes, he thought were pretty before… before…
“Edd.”
He looked up.
“You okay?”
“Fine… I’m fine, Wayne, just… I’m not gonna think about it, y’know? I’m going to go talk to Dustin. Good night, man.” He poured the spaghetti into a mug, disregarding the growing pile of dishes. “Me and Steve will get those, don’t worry about them.”
“G’night, Eddie.” He looped an arm around his neck, pressing a kiss to his crown. “You’re not too old for that, so don’t gimme any shit, you hear?”
“Got it,” he chuckled, making his way to his room. He nudged the poster-covered door open, and close again, sitting at the foot of his bed. He set the food on the desk at the end of his bed. “Dust,” he whispered, reaching over and shaking the boy’s shoulder. “Dust, it’s Eddie.”
The kid groaned, turning away and pulling the covers over his head. A muffled something could be heard, but not made out.
“Can’t hear you, kid. Come on out.”
…
Nothing
“Can you at least take the blanket off your head? We can talk then..”
Slowly, the cover came off, just a little bit. Eddie could just see tear tracks running down his cheeks.
“Tell me what’s goi-”
“I’m sorry…”
Eddie sighed. Whatever happened, nothing was Dustin’s fault.
“Nothing’s your fault, kid,” Eddie started, not knowing where to go with this. “Just talk to me, kid. You had Wayne pick you up, so it was serious.”
“I don’t want Steve to… To find out. Or know,” he mumbled. “Not yet, anyway. I don’t… I don’t know how he’ll react. If he’d… I know he and you are together, so he wouldn’t have a problem, but he might, and I just… I can’t…”
“I won’t tell. Promise. Cross my heart and will give up my position as Dungeon Master if I do,” Eddie proclaimed, drawing an ‘X’ over his heart with a finger. “Now, how about-” He reached behind him for the mug of spaghetti, “-you sit up, eat this, and talk to me.”
Dustin did so, taking the mug in his hands, sitting against the black curtains over the windows. “It’s in a mug,” he muttered. “This is not what spaghetti is supposed to be in.”
“We, uh, haven’t done dishes in a while. With the band, and Wayne’s work schedule, and Steve’s work schedule, and all that…” Eddie chuckled. “I’m going to get them done before I go to bed so you can eat cereal out of a bowl instead of a cup, because that is also the last of the mugs.
“So… Why did Wayne need to come get you?”
Dustin was silent for a moment. Thinking. How do you tell someone something like this? How?
“I… You know how my mom… she has that new boyfriend?” he started, glancing at Eddie. He took a bite while Eddie nodded, holding the mug just a bit tighter. “Well… He lives with us and all that, y’know? And… I…” He went quiet.
“Dustin, does he… Does he hit you, or something?” Eddie asked without meaning to. Bluntness really wasn’t the best thing for this conversation, most likely, but he had no filter, so…
“No, not… He doesn’t hit me… He does other stuff…” His fingers started fidgeting with the edge of the blanket draped around his shoulders. “He…”.
Dustin’s eyes were filling again, salty tears threatening to fall. He held a hand over his mouth, silencing any sounds he was about to make.
Eddie wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling the boy closer. He rubbed his shoulder, muttering small phrases of comfort. “Whatever happened, nothing is your fault.”
“He… He came in my room, and… I just froze, I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t… I didn’t…”
Dustin leaned against the man, continuing to hold in his quiet sobs.
“Oh, fuck, Dustin… Bud…” He pulled the almost empty mug from Dustin’s hands gently, the boy refusing to let go at first. “Gimme that, c’mon. It’s alright. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not okay, I mean… I just froze, Eddie, I didn’t yell, I didn’t do anything!”
“It’s not your fault. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault, not at all. We’ll… We’ll get it all figured out, okay? Talk to your mom, whatev-”
“She knows,” he interrupted quietly, shaking his head. “She knows and she doesn’t care she doesn’t think he would do that but he fucking would and I can’t go back, I can’t I really just can’t Eddie. He’s going to do it again if I go back I know he will-”
Eddie pulled Dustin in tighter, squeezed him harder. Dustin hid his face in Eddie’s sweater.
“You…” Eddie paused, thought for a moment. This kid didn’t want Steve to know, his house was hardly an option. Steve would definitely want to know why Dustin was moving out at the ripe age of fifteen. “You can stay here. With me and Wayne. However long you want. How’s that?”
Dustin nodded hesitantly. “And Steve?”
“He won’t know a thing, not unless you tell him or ask me to. Let’s get you some pajamas, it's time for you to get to bed.”
Eddie grabbed a pair of sweats and a hoodie, setting them on the bed. He shut the door on his way out for Dustin to change, just as Steve walked out of the shower, tower still wrapped around his hair.
Eddie leaned against the wall, Steve joining him, resting his head against his shoulder. His wet hair soaked into Eddie’s hoodie, making Eddie frown.
“How’d it go? What happened?”
“I… “ He grabbed his lover's hand, intertwining their fingers. “I can’t tell you.”
“...Is it bad? Can you tell me that, at least?” He rubbed his thumb against Eddie’s. “Is he hurt?”
Eddie shook his head. “It’s a good thing he’s not home anymore, though.”