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Steve felt the car swerve to the right as he laid across Dustin’s lap. The poison spread like wildfire across his torso, his back, his spine, seemingly burning into bone marrow. Steve felt the heat of it all scorching him, burning him alive.
“Stay with us, Harrington, I swear to God. We’re going to the lab right now,” Eddie growled from the driver's seat, taking another swerve to the right. The lights of the lab were in the distance.
They could make it.
Steve Harrington was not going to die today.
“Hold him as still as you can, okay Henderson?” Eddie strained. Eddie refused to focus on the smell of Steve’s blood, the acidic smell of the poison, on Steve’s breathy whines, on Dustin’s panicked whimpers.
The road was a black ribbon in front of Eddie and he floored the gas, breathing hard.
It was all his fault, Eddie knew it. Those damn bats and their damn poison and Eddie had only been able to stand and watch in muted horror as the bats bypassed him and Henderson to attack Steve instead. The man had gotten their attention and the winged creatures had descended on Harrington before Eddie could start running towards him to fight them off.
Steve’s moans grew in volume and the car stunk of metallic and the sweet acidic scent of the poison.
“He’s looking really bad,” Dustin cried, his voice a high-pitched whine. Dustin wiped his bloody hands in his shirt, and brought them back to press against Steve’s bleeding bites. Steve’s bites had only been staunched; blood still seeped through the makeshift bandages.
Steve coughed out a groan, curling around himself tighter. Everything hurt, everything was aflame. The humming in his ears grew louder and it became impossible to ignore. Steve honed in on it, the world falling into darkness as the white noise filled his head.
“He’s passing out, Eddie! How far, how far?” Dustin yelped, tapping Steve’s cheek in with one panicked hand. Still, Steve’s eyes were rolling back as his body went limp across the backseat.
“A mile. Just keep him awake,” Eddie forced, flooring it. The car revved, zooming down the street.
“M’trying.” Dustin cried, continuously hitting Steve’s bruised and bloodied face. “Steve, buddy, can you hear me? Wake up!”
Steve’s face had gone white and limp.
Dustin took a shaky deep breath in and then slapped Steve’s unresponsive face in desperation.
Steve’s blurry world snapped into focus and the sudden overlapping yells to wake up! Someone was shaking him hard, and Steve desperately wanted to ask them to please stop, it hurts, everything hurt…
Steve’s tongue was bloated sandpaper, thick and heavy, and his lungs felt like someone had put them in a cheese grater. The fire was consuming him.
The car slammed to a stop and Steve felt someone pulling him, then holding him. Steve could just make out Eddie’s worried face in the lit parking lot.
“We’re here, Harrington. Just hang on, okay? We’re getting you that antidote.”