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“You gotta be shitting me,” you sighed when you saw Dustin standing there in the dark, his bike mangled and face bloodied. He smiled and waved his hand, and you just shook your head as an answer, making his smile falter slightly. Steve mirrored your expression, and you leaned over the open window. “Dustin, in the car. Now.”
He grumbled, walking his bike over to the car and dumping it into the back, making Jonathan grumble something about almost hitting him with the tire. You scooted over towards Steve and watched Dustin jump to the edge seat, slamming the car door shut to make a wordless point and Steve pressed gas. You drove in silence for a moment, Dustin leaning his head against the window and Steve leaning his fingers against his temple, as you stared forward, huffing once in a while.
Steve sighed after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “You gonna tell us who did that?”
He crossed his arms. “No one. I didn’t look where I was going, my bike tire hit something, I faceplanted onto the ground, and got knocked out.”
You snorted. “And the ground apparently summoned some friends to beat you up, Mr. Asphalt has some serious problems with you.”
He scowled. “I hit the asphalt and rolled down the hill.”
“And the fence just so conveniently had seemed to disappear from that part?”
“I flew over it.”
“The hill is covered in asphalt now?” you sighed. “The mayor really needs some help with city designing. Or do you think Vecna is possessing him and making him look crazy?”
“No, I meant I—”
“Dustin, stop lying!” Steve interrupted you two bickering. “Everyone inside this van knows you were beaten up because you’re ready to nearly sacrifice your life over Eddie’s reputation!”
Dustin fell silent at that, pressing his lips into a tight line and turning to look out from the window.
Your eyes wandered over your brother, before you carefully laid your hand on his shoulder. “We’re just worried about you.”
He shrugged it off. “You don’t have to be.”
“Eddie wouldn’t want—”
He snapped his head back towards you. “Yeah, well, Eddie’s dead, and those assholes are disrespecting his memory.”
Steve let out a humourless laugh. “Do you think Eddie would give a flying fuck over whether his memory is disrespected or not?”
You nodded along. “He was seen as weird and creepy even before—”
“Well, he wasn’t seen as a satanist murderer before,” Dustin retorted. “Satanist yeah, but not a murderer. You just don’t get it.”
You sighed, closing your eyes. “Okay, you’re right about that. But I know that if he was really still here, descending from Heaven or rising from the depths of Hell just to give you a message, he’d tell you to stop being an idiot.”
Dustin’s eyes flashed. “You’re wrong.”
You looked at him for a moment in silence. “What do you think he would he say to you then?”
He turned back to the window, leaning against it, before grumbling, “That you’re not my mom, and Steve is not my dad, I don’t need to hear you lecturing me like this.”
“I’m not trying to be a replacement to our mom—”
He interrupted you, “Then stop doing it!”
He fell silent after that, not replying to either you nor Steve continuing to lecture him, and eventually you also quieted down, making Jonathan sigh from relief in the back. You glanced at your brother once or twice more during the car ride, silently hoping that something, someday soon, would wake Dustin up and make him realise that what he was doing was foolish. Eddie was gone and there was nothing you could do about that, and Dustin just had to learn to accept that.