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Dustin’s skin itches. He worries about his bottom lip between his teeth. Was he actually doing this? They had said they were covered in the corner for months. Untouched, unbothered since they moved into the Squawk. Dustin has racked his brain over and over for some other way to show Steve he was actually sorry, and keeps coming back empty-handed.
Sorry for all his harsh words. Sorry for hurting one of—no, the most important person in his life over and over and over again. He needs to apologize and get Steve to really understand that he means this. It is not an empty gesture but proof that Dustin doesn’t really believe all those things he said. Steve is smart; he isn’t fake. And he needs Steve to believe it all. Because those words keep replaying in his mind.
“How come I’m the one still standing here?”
Honestly, their whole fight is already a horrible nightmare in Dustin’s mind. For all his teasing about Steve and his luck when it comes to being in a fight, he never wanted to be the one to throw punches at him. Dustin can still hear the ringing in his ears. His desperation for emotion, to feel something through the pain, was not to be noticed by anyone. Let alone Steve.
Dustin would never want to add to Steve's pain.
He never wanted to hurt his best friend.
“Air Rifles...” The sound of Steve’s voice snaps Dustin from the trance he had locked himself in.
Laughter and tears bubble up in his throat. Steve is with Nancy. Dustin shouldn’t even be surprised. Nancy freaking Wheeler, again. Always. Forever.
This was stupid. Dustin is being stupid right now. He should turn around. The party moves around him. Noise covers every corner of the room. Everyone has a task to work on or someone to focus on. It would take nothing for him to just turn a bit and go find Lucas or check on Will. Maybe he should see how Mike’s bomb is going instead. Let Nancy and Steve have their moment.
Ahead of him, Steve clears his throat before adding, “Duck Hunt.”
It takes two words for everything to fall into place. Duck Hunt. It seems meaningless to someone who isn’t Dustin. To everyone, it's just an arcade game. For Dustin, it's one of the first arcade games Steve Harington, his best friend, played with him. For them, it's Saturday afternoons spent in arcades and Sunday movie nights at Steve’s house with Robin.
For Dustin, it’s all the confidence he needs that he is making the right call here.
Nancy questions Steve. Again, no surprise to Dustin. But he will always take pride in being one of the first people to believe in Steve.
Now, time to prove it.
“He is remarkably good at it.” Nancy looks his way after Dustin speaks. He doesn’t meet her eyes, doesn’t need to, maybe doesn’t care to. His attention is held on Steve Harrington, who is looking right back at him. For once, something is not about Nancy freaking Wheeler.
Dustin tilts his head so slightly and gestures at Steve. “But I have a better idea.” He nods his head away from this room. “Come on.” And then, Dustin trusts Steve to follow him without looking back. Sure enough, Steve is right behind him. He can feel the added presence of comfort immediately. There's also something to be said for the fact that this is not the first time he can recall Steve choosing to give him his attention over everyone in the room. It's reassuring that it's still how they work.
They do not talk. Mainly because it's not a far walk from where they just were. Hidden in the corner of the room, Dustin books it to something covered by a white sheet near a wall of guns. He knows what is there, what will be staring back at him, and uncovers them anyway.
Two rusted blades are attached to sticks. The last time I used these was the last time he was there. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie--
He can not help but stare the weapons down. Anger boils inside his body. But, for the first time, it shimmers out quickly with the reminder of who else is in the room with him. This is not about Eddie. And, for once, these past two years, Dustin is happy to think that. He will always miss his friend.
Dustin has missed this more.
He carefully picks up one of the spears, Master of Puppets ringing in his ears. He holds it up, seeing it truly in the light. He can feel the craving of a small ‘D.H.' under his fingertips. It won’t matter as much to Steve. Dustin had made sure not to give Steve Eddie’s; he did not want this to feel like passing a legacy on to someone else.
No, Dustin gave Steve his spear.
“These babies are deadlier than they look.” He offers it to Steve.
Steve, who stares at it as if it's a fragile piece of glass and not a deadly pointy object. Steve, whose whole body Dustin can see tense and hesitant. Maybe this action of giving Steve something he had shared with Eddie would translate just as Dustin had hoped. He watches as Steve stares at Dustin’s hand next. He tries to lift it closer to Steve, but he doesn’t reach for it and just makes eye contact.
“You sure?” Concern fills Steve’s face. His eyes are open, his head slightly tilted down, and his attention solely on Dustin.
He can almost feel his lips upturning. “mh, hmm.” Dustin nods again.
He feels light when Steve finally takes the spear. The feeling doesn’t leave when he picks up Eddie’s. This is what he should have been chasing. Not the rush of fear and adrenaline his bullies gave him or pushing everyone out, but this contentment from knowing he took even a small part in making sure his person was safe. They would survive this. Steve would survive this.
Satisfied, Dustin starts the walk out of the room and back to the others. Now that he is thinking about it, he’s glad that Steve doesn’t want to talk about what this means to a lot. He has carried enough today and could honestly use a break. If he lingers on it too long, he will restart his spiral on the meaning of Eddie’s death. Because it did mean something.
It had to mean something.
And here he goes again--
“Hey, Dustin?” Steve catches him off guard.
Dustin slows to a stop before even making it to the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Hey, about... ahh...” He turns to look at his friend. This means he gets to watch as Steve’s eyes focus on the spear, studying every inch of it, looking at the floor, and then finally glancing at Dustin before finding interest in the floor again. He takes a ragged breath. Oh no.“Some of the stuff I said earlier....” Steve starts using his hands. He’s freaking out.
“It’s fine.” Dustin tries to wave it off, even hitting Steve’s arm. They don’t need to talk about this now. Or ever. He would be okay with ever because it shouldn’t be Steve apologizing, not when Dustin has been doing worse and literally shutting the man out. He turns his head away and forces the moisture building up behind his eyes to leave. Dustin readies to leave again. “It’s okay.”
“No.” Oh. So, we are doing this. Okay. Breathe. Don’t cry. It’s just Steve. Because that’s really the whole point in this, right? That’s why Dustin is using the spears again with someone else. It’s why he is going back into the Upside Down. It’s why his feet stop moving, and he freezes in place to let Steve talk.
He can’t see Steve, hasn’t worked up the energy to turn yet. But the seriousness and care in his gentle voice alone almost break Dustin. “Just...” Steve slaps his side. Somehow, that isn’t a loud sound either. “It’s not okay.” That, and Steve’s sigh, turns Dustin’s head. He swallows and adjusts his grip on the spear as sweat begins to build on his palms. Here we go again. I did this. I started this.
“Eddie,” He can’t help but gasp. Just small. Some way of letting out some of the pain and burning sensations that build up in Dustin’s chest and throat just by hearing the name. It’s like drinking something too hot, and you have to blow some of the heat out of your mouth. His eyes shift, ever so slightly, and watch as Steve studies his own spear. The one in Dustin’s grip feels heavier. “He saved your life.”
Steve’s eyes land on his chest. Dustin imagines he is looking right at where his own heart would be. But, he doesn’t feel studied as Steve’s eyes trace up to his own. Dustin hasn’t worked up the strength to look back yet. His heart feels as if it will beat out of his chest. He did because I won’t let his death mean nothing. “Our lives.” Wait, what? Now, Steve sighs like he took on every weight that has been dragging Dustin closer to the ground, calling out for him to join Eddie.
“And I know what he meant to you. I—I can’t even imagine--” He noticed? Some deeply hidden, dark part of Dustin had wondered for a long time now if Steve didn’t notice his pain. If maybe he had just written it off as stress or anxiety or fear. He wandered, with a sick feeling, if Steve didn’t know him as well as Dustin thought he did, as well as Dustin knew Steve.
But his heart knew that was wrong. The way Steve’s worry heightened when it was Dustin who came to his car with bruises on his face instead of someone else from the party. It was clear in the way that Steve winced before Dustin even could when someone mentioned bats or vampires or Eddie. The issue is that this thought hurt even more than just thinking Steve is about as smart as everyone expects him to be. But Dustin knows better.
And now, as Dustin’s eyes finally fell onto his best friend again, it's becoming clear that Steve knows better, too.
“-- how hard it's been. But instead of just being there for you.” Steve swallows. His body trembles. Dustin wants to hug him so badly. It physically hurts him to see the cube-shaped cut on Steve's right cheek. “Well, I got angry about it.” About my reaction? My grief?
Steve’s warm brown eyes finally met Dustin’s. For a breath, they simply stare at each other. The burning feeling returns to Dustin’s throat. This is all he has wanted for weeks, months, even. So long for them not speaking or only fighting when they do, and all Dustin wanted was for Steve to just see him again.
“I guess,” The tears are back. Both have to look away from each other. “I got angry because things were different.” Take a deep breath. Don’t panic. This is just Steve. Dustin can’t help but nod. Things were different. Even when Eddie was alive and not some ghostly image stuck in his mind, they had not been their selves. Steve had closed off to Dustin and started treating him like a kid he was just babysitting again. He talked to Robin more, like caring for Dustin was a chore, complained most of the time, he even tried to talk about Eddie.
Now, he sees me. He sees just me standing here, listening to him. That’s when it finally clicks. Steve hasn’t just been angry at Dustin. Maybe he has been trying to yell at the ghost following him around. Maybe I have, too. Not because Dustin needs Steve to be Eddie, but because Dustin only feels safe in truly grieving with Steve. He took it to the only person he knew could handle it. The one person wished he could convince to walk away from this whole mess, but he can always trust not to.
“Because I really missed you.” Steve’s eyes are softer now as they stare at Dustin. All the weight drips off Dustin’s shoulders. He could float away. But Steve’s hand grounds him, coming to rest right on his left shoulder. Solid, firm, steady. His lips turn up the smallest bit, and Dustin only sees because he is staring so hard. “I missed my best friend.”
Dustin’s body trembles. He can’t hide it. Can’t hide the way two little sentences mean the world to him. His place in Steve’s orbit never moved. He is still here. We are still here. He has to adjust his grip again. Dustin loses his battle with his tears. A few streams down his face. For the first time in months, the ache in his heart is good, something fixable.
“Yeah, I missed my best friend, too.” Dustin smiles. A real smile. Just for Steve, just because of Steve.
Steve smiles back before pulling Dustin into a hug. He rests his head over Steve’s heart and takes comfort in the fact that he can hear it beat. Any tension that still existed is gone. Steve’s hold tightens, and it's somehow the best hug Dustin has ever gotten, even if it's only with one arm. This was all he had needed. This hug, Steve, everything was the balm to his grief. The numbness gave way to the warmth that was Steve Harrington.
His best friend.
He smiles again, even if just for a second. Steve clings back just as much. They rock and breathe. Dustin would let them enjoy it, but if Steve won’t let him apologize for everything, he needs to for something. Because he crossed a line, just like Steve had done with his teeth almost two years ago. And he can’t just let his comments go.
“For the record, a Rubik's Cube isn’t even a good measure of intelligence.” You are smart, Steve. I know it and believe it. Steve’s resulting smile and laugh as they pull away keep melting all the ice in his veins. It makes him laugh. His hand settles on the back of Dustin’s neck as if he isn’t ready to be too far yet. Good, I’m not either. “And your beanstalk plan, seriously, only a genius could come up with that.” I’m proud of you, Steve.
The warmth in Steve’s eyes tells Dustin he is forgiven. “Yeah, well.” He shakes his head. “I learned from the best.” I’m proud of you, too.
“Well, that’s true.” The spear in his hand is easier to hold now. This all feels like a Russian elevator. The thought almost has Dustin laughing again as he stares at the spears. “Silver lining: if it fails, we both go down.” He can be there to catch Steve if there is another ladder he might fall off of. No worrying about living without Steve because they either will live together or--
“You die, I die.” Oh. Dustin tilts his head. That overwhelming fondness comes back, and he has to swallow back a fresh round of tears. It was different this time. Steve didn’t only say it, he said it first. It was, in fact, a clearer statement for the nerd than calling him Steve’s “best friend.” He smiles, nodding again.
“You die, I die.” Dustin and Steve nod together. You live, I live. There is no world where either of us exists without the other. He would have pulled me back off the ladder, too.
Wait a second.
Dustin can’t help it. He laughs hard, so hard he has to move his spear out of the way so he doesn’t cut himself on it as he laughs. It's so freeing not to be able to breathe for this. He isn’t choking, and he doesn’t feel wrong for being happy for once. Eddie would laugh, too.
Next to him, Steve scoffs, his hand tightens just a bit on Dustin’s neck to pull him back. “What’s so funny? We were having a moment, jerk.”
“You forgot--” Dustin waves Steve off as he focuses on catching his breath first. When their eyes meet again, the smile on Dustin’s face is wide and warm, showing off the teeth he is still so proud of. “You forgot the ‘if.’”
Steve’s face flushes pink. He coughs for a second as he shakes his head. “Wait, no that--”
Someone coughs. Their heads turn fast to stare at their intruder. Robin stands there, grinning at them. “As much as I truly hate to ruin this makeup, therapy session, Will needs us for something. Hurry up, love birds.”
His smile stays stuck on his face as he joins Steve in running after Robin, yelling about how they were best friends, not love birds, and that she was one to talk about.
Who cares about a stupid ‘if’ anyway? This is permanent.