Chapter Text
Steve has witnessed a shit-ton of strange things. If you say you have something weird to show him, his response would probably be, ‘I’ve seen stranger things.’ (ironic, huh?)
He’d mentally prepared himself for all sorts of possible shit-shows that could happen after Starcourt went down in flames, and the nightmares got ten times worse. Those were something not even Robin knew about; he’d rather get blackout drunk before he told her what the nightmares were about.
Robin didn’t push him on it either; to Steve’s surprise, she never said a word about it.
Steve felt like he was floating now; everything seemed to be swimming around him as he searched through the faces around him.
Robin might’ve blurred past, then Dustin and Nance.
Billy?
Then, Eddie came into clear focus.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice seemed so far away, even to himself.
Eddie smiled that stupid smile of his, walking backward with his guitar in hand.
He’s done this a dozen times before; he can never get himself to grab Eddie back, never pull Eddie back from the bats that dive in when Eddie’s far enough.
When his blood hits the ground is always when Steve wakes up in a cold sweat.
Steve groaned as he fell back against the bed. He throws his blanket to the side as he swings his feet to the ground. A cold chill runs through his body as he grabs a shirt off a hanger and pulls it on.
He left his room, dragging himself down the hallway to the front door, grabbing his coat and stepping into his shoes as he glanced over at his golden retriever Molly he’d gotten a couple months ago. Smiling to himself as he saw her sprawled out on the couch, snoring softly.
He’d gotten his own place a while ago, not too far from the lake. Now he’d walk down until he reached the boathouse where they'd hid Eddie.
Every time he had that nightmare he ended up down there, outside it with his back against the door.
He slumped against the old door, hitting the ground with a soft thud. The cold bit at his legs through his sweatpants as the wind attacked the side of his face.
Steve sat there for hours, sometimes till the sun came up.
Tonight he sat there till he heard a crash come from inside.
Steve jumped forward, sighing as he figured it was probably an animal.
He brought himself up, hand twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open with a slow creak.
Stepping inside he looked around, hand going for the flashlight in his pocket. He clicked it on, swinging the beam of light around.
It landed on a fallen pile of cans. Canned vegetables, soup, and other odds and ends they’d brought Eddie when he was hiding here.
The door clicked shut behind him as he went over and knelt down to pick it up and stack them back up on the table.
A shuffling sound came from behind him as he closed a half-eaten box of honeycomb cereal.
He stopped, slowly standing up and turning around.
A person seemed to stand in the shadow of the window, leaning on an old tool cart, breathing heavy now.
Steve reached behind him, grabbing his flashlight off the table.
The light swept over, landing right on the person.
Steve’s hand shook as he saw a bloodied Hellfire shirt, ripped (and somehow even bloodier) jeans, tattoos scattering pale skin, and messy curls.
“Eddie?” Steve didn’t sound so far away this time.
Eddie was silent, dragging forward, bloodshot eyes locking onto Steve.
The urge to rush forward and grab Eddie surged through Steve. Eddie was right there, blood in his clothes, just the way they had to leave him in the Upside Down.
“Eddie.” Steve shone the light higher, focusing it on Eddie’s face.
For a moment, Steve thought he was losing his mind, lowering the light when he didn’t get a response.
Then there were hands on his shoulders, and a feeling as if someone was putting two needles into his neck.
Steve cursed, flashlight dropping, ironically hitting the button against the floor and turning off.
“Ed-“ Steve breathed, the momentary pain disappearing into a feeling of ease.
It took a minute for Steve to come to his senses. When he did, it resulted in pushing Eddie back and grabbing the old oar when he tried to come closer again.
Steve swung it, knocking Eddie unconscious as far as he could tell in the pitch dark of the boathouse.
A few beats of silence went by as Steve listened to his own heartbeat; it seemed so loud now.
He set the oar down, reaching for his flashlight.
When the light hit Eddie again, Steve couldn’t believe it.
The man Dustin watched die a few months ago was lying in front of him, chest rising, breathing.
Steve chewed at the inside of his cheek anxiously for a second before stepping forward. He couldn’t carry Eddie all the way back home, right? He couldn’t risk someone seeing Eddie’s face. Besides, what if Eddie attacked him on the way?
All those thoughts went out the door when Steve was pulling the hood of his jacket over Eddie as he cradled him in his arms.
The wind bit at Steve’s face and bare arms now, making him tighten his hold on the deadweight in his arms.
Steve cursed at himself when the overgrown trees started covering the streetlamps, realising he’d left his flashlight on the table.
He relied on the shuffle of pavement and kicks of rocks until the glow of the streetlamp in front of his house seemed to smile at him.