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Steve, unfortunately, hadn’t had much time to focus on Dustin. Anytime he tried to talk to the kid, Dustin only screamed at him to “Focus on EDDIE!!”, who, while covered in blood, was definitely alive and only really needed a few bandages. He was much worse off compared to Steve, but really not enough to justify Dustin’s utter panic.
That asshole definitely freaked the kid out when he lost consciousness, covered in demobat blood like that. Steve was going to give him a serious talking to about the emotional well being of adventuring teenagers.
For now though, Eddie needs to rest, so Steve slips away and sets Eddie up in his own bedroom upstairs. Dustin is still yelling when he re-joins the others.
“How many times!? Eddie was dead! I know the difference between dead people and alive ones, Max!”
“I’m just saying, sometimes even doctors get it wrong! And he’s clearly alive, so obviously he didn’t die.”
“He did! He stopped breathing! He choked on his own blood and he stopped breathing! I couldn’t hear his heart anymore!! I couldn’t do anything to stop it–he, he was–”
Steve quickly crosses the room and pulls the kid into a bone-crushing hug. Dustin sobs against his chest and clings to him like a lifeline. “He was dead, Steve, he–”
“Hey, hey, I know. He’s fine now.” Steve says. “He’s fine now, ok? Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out. Right now, it’s post-battle recovery, right?”
That draws a nice laugh out of Dustin, even if it’s tainted with tears. “We have to get ready for the medal ceremony,”
“Yeah.” If possible, Steve squeezes Dustin tighter. God, this kid. “Yeah, we’re gonna get so many shitty medals dude. Your mom will have to get a whole new cabinet for all your gold.”
Dustin whimpers slightly and tucks his face into Steve’s jacket. “He was dead,” he whispers.
“He’s not now. He’s alive, right now, staining my pillows with upside-down gunk. I’m gonna go up there in a minute and wrap him up in bandages and bubble wrap, and he’ll be fine.”
Steve presses a kiss to the top of Dustin’s curls. “But right now I need you to be fine. You’re exhausted. We all are– I have no idea what time it is actually, but, but the point is: we won, and now it’s time to clean yourself up, and raid my pantry, and sleep. Ok man? I’m gonna take care of Eddie, and then tomorrow we’ll figure out how to clear his name. But we’re gonna need some of that Henderson brain power to do it, which means you have to reset, ok?”
Dustin nods somewhat reluctantly, and Steve ruffles his hair and steps back. “You did so good today,” he says. Nowadays, Dustin looks completely different from the little kid who needed his help hunting monsters. But sometimes, that’s all Steve can see. “You should have never been put in a situation like that. I’m sorry.”
Dustin smiles and shakes his head. “I’m never one to refuse a quest, especially when a party member is in trouble.”
He sighs. “I know you aren’t, kid.”
Steve sends Dustin off to join the others, before shucking off his jacket and heading upstairs. He peeks into his bedroom and finds Eddie still unconscious, breathing deeply, and decides he can wait a few minutes. They’d already bandaged most of Eddie’s wounds, Steve really just needed to re-check his bandages, yell at him for scaring them, and make sure he at least got some damn tylenol in his system. Steve decides to take a shower before he gathers the supplies to take care of their most injured party member.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Rather than using the en-suite and risk waking Eddie, Steve quietly grabs some clothes from his room and showers in the main bath. As soon as Steve steps back into his bedroom, dressed and hair only slightly damp, Eddie flings himself from the bed and into the far corner of the room, making Steve almost jump out of his skin.
At least Eddie’s awake now, but he looks even cagier than he’d been in the boathouse. He’s weaving back and forth, watching Steve but also and eyeing the window in a way Steve doesn’t like, especially on the second floor like this.
Steve takes a deep breath and closes the door behind himself. “Eddie, you need to let me look at you.” he says slowly, trying to keep calm. “It’s just me, it's Steve. I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe, man.”
Eddie shakes his head, staring out the window. “No, no, no one is safe,” he mutters “not safe, not safe…”
“We got him, Ed. Nancy chopped Vecna’s fucking head off, I promise he’s not coming back.”
Eddie whirls around, eyes wild. “But..but what if he does? What if what happened to little Byers happens to me? Something is wrong with me, man, I don’t–I can’t–FUCK!!”
Suddenly Eddie claps his hands over his ears, almost like he’s in pain. “You need to go, you need to go right the fuck now, just, lock this room and leave me here!” he yells, backing into the corner of the bedroom. He’s still wearing his clothes from earlier. They’d managed to get off the jacket but his jeans and Hellfire shirt are still soaked with blood and sweat. Steve can see the beginnings of tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t understand. What the fuck happened to Edddie that he’s reacting like this? He looks fucking insane.
“Eddie! That’s not gonna happen! You’re gonna be fine. Just sit down and let me fix you up.”
Eddie shakes his head again and runs his hands through his hair roughly. His rings glint in the low light and Steve realizes his hands are shaking. He stretches out his own hand for Eddie. “Come here. Come here, take my hand.” he says.
Eddie quickly shoves his hands in his armpits, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes again. This isn’t good at all.
Steve crosses the room slowly, like he’s approaching a frightened animal. He is, really. Eddie looks far away in his own world, and Steve knows this is a stupid idea, but there isn’t really another option and Steve needs to bring Eddie back now. He’s careening himself off a cliff, and if Steve doesn’t step in, he has no idea what’s going to happen.
Carefully, Steve brings his hands up to cradle Eddie’s face, tilting it up to look at him. Eddie doesn’t flinch, but he screws his eyes shut and Steve can tell he’s trying to hold back tears.
If Vecna weren’t already dead, Steve would be hauling ass to kill him again. Eddie –sweet, brave, kind Eddie– had saved Dustin and nearly gotten himself killed keeping the bats away from the Creel house. According to Dustin, he had gotten himself killed, but Steve didn’t have the want or wherewithal to examine theoretical resurrections right now.
“Eddie, Eds, look at me.” he says. Finally, Eddie does. In the back of his mind, Steve wonders how such dark brown eyes can seem so bright.
“You’re safe.” Steve tries to put as much forceful surety and comfort in his voice as he can. “Dustin’s safe. You did good, you saved him. He’s just downstairs, and everyone’s ok. We’re in my house, in Hawkins, and you’re gonna be just fine. Just sit down so I can look at your wounds, everything is gonna be okay.”
Eddie just shakes his head. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he cries quietly. His breathing is getting faster. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone, please-”
“Eds, you’re not gonna hurt anyone-”
“I’m so hungry, Stevie.” Eddie sobs. It almost sounds like a snarl, and Steve freezes. “I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me, but I’m so hungry, I feel so god-damned weak, I can’t stop it, I don’t wanna hurt anyone, I don’t but I’m scared shitless I won’t be able to hold on forever,”
Steve’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about? Eddie, I have food here. I’ll get you a whole feast if you want”
Eddie jerks his head and rips himself out of Steve’s grasp. “I’m not hungry for food!” he hisses.
Steve startles as Eddie turns suddenly, violently smacks his head against the wall, and pulls his hair, hard, at the scalp. He groans, frustrated and miserable. “You come in here, and all I can hear is your heartbeat and all I wanna do is rip out your fucking throat! I was already a freak but I went down to hell and now I’m a monster!”
Steve steps back. He doesn’t…fuck. He has no idea what to do. “You’re not a monster, Eddie.” he says helplessly.
“All I can think about is drinking your blood, Steve, sounds pretty monstrous to me.” Eddie turns to look at him and wobbles slightly, leaning against the wall. He looks like he might pass out, but instead he steps forward suddenly and shoves Steve toward the door. “You need to go.” he hisses. “GET OUT!!”
Steve stumbles, but doesn’t leave. “I’m…I’m gonna fix this.” he says, desperately. “Eddie, you’re gonna be fine, I’m gonna make it better.”
Eddie growls, honest-to-god growls, and collapses in a heap on the carpet. His tears have finally fallen, washing away the grime of battle in big obvious trails. “Please, just leave.” he says softly, and presses his face to the carpet.
“I’m gonna make it better, Eddie.” Steve says. A huge pit opens in his stomach because he doesn’t really know how to make it better. But he has to. Has to. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna fix this.”
Eddie doesn’t answer.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
By some sort of miracle, Nancy and Robin are the only ones awake when Steve rushes downstairs, talking in hushed tones on the couch while the kids sleep on mattresses moved from the bedrooms. The living room is the most easily defensible position in the house, Steve isn't surprised that’s where they’d chosen to set up.
He takes a moment to stare at them, finally safe, at least for now. Dustin had apparently showered as well, his hair still damp where he snored against the pillows. Max refused to go to the hospital until morning, but they’d stabilized her broken arm in a rudimentary splint until then. Steve smiles as he notices everyone is wearing at least one stolen item from his closet. It’s a ridiculous but heartwarming sight.
“We didn’t think you’d mind,” whispers Robin, wearing Hawkins High gym shorts and a deep blue quarter-zip that basically belongs to her with how often she steals it.
Steve shakes his head, crossing the room to join them. “No, course not. Mi casa su casa.” he says.
“How is he?” Nancy asks.
Steve purses his lips. “Not good. He’s–I don’t really know what those bats did to him, but don’t let anyone go in there, under any circumstances. Like, at all.”
“What’s wrong?”
Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t– he can’t explain right now. He just needs to fix Eddie, keep the rest of the party safe while he does it. “I need to go out and grab some things, just don’t let any one in there, ok?”
“Steve!” Robin whisper-shouts, exasperated. Steve already has his shoes on and keys in hand.
“I’ll be right back!”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Loch Nora, and Steve’s house in particular, is settled in a little valley only a few miles outside of town. Steve blames this valley location and possibly lack of sleep for the reason he doesn’t notice that it’s fucking seven o’clock in the morning, and that the sun is almost fully up.
It’s pretty lucky though, because most businesses in Hawkins open bright and early, and Steve did not think about the logistics of breaking into the butcher-shop.
The butcher doesn’t ask about Steve’s frazzled appearance, or even raise an eyebrow when he asks for four quarts of pork blood. Steve also buys some pre-made mac n’ cheese and pork shoulder, partly to limit suspicion and partly because there isn’t actually a lot of real food in the house right now.
The blood comes in big paper cups that Steve stares at in his car for a solid two minutes. Really, he has no idea if this will work. Maybe Eddie’s just crazy. Maybe he has upside down rabies, and Steve should have taken him right to the hospital (to be arrested, best case scenario, or experimented on, worst case scenario). Maybe Eddie is dying on Steve’s bedroom carpet, and Steve is running errands. But if all of that isn’t true, if this has any chance of working, he cannot give Eddie his new life-giving liquid in a paper deli cup.
Eddie can barely hold himself up, let alone drink, and it’s only going to get worse. Not only would any spills be a fucking pain, every drop of blood Steve lets go is 1 less chance of saving Eddie. Steve needs to convince Eddie to drink the blood and be able to control him while he does, for Eddie’s safety and his own. Well, shit. Plan B.
He only breaks a few laws getting to the Farmer’s Supply store at the other end of town. Steve doesn’t quite know what he’s looking for until he sees it, but once he does, he grabs it and thanks whoever’s listening that an uninterested teenager is running the checkout. The last thing he needs is an extended conversation on proper farming practices.
He makes it all the way home without truly questioning what he’s about to do. Maybe on a normal day, he would stop to think how fucking weird he is. How weird his life is. But right now, Steve’s determination clouds any social norms or risk intuition. Right now, a party member is in trouble, so Steve is about to bottle feed a vampire. Or whatever supernatural beast Eddie’s been transformed into. Vampire seems like a pretty good guess.
When he enters the house, Nancy and Robin have passed out in the living room. It reminds Steve that he technically hasn’t slept in a few days either, but he pushes that problem strictly to the ‘Later’ section of his mind. One thing at a time. He drops the pork and macaroni in the fridge and finds a sharpie to write “DO NOT DRINK” as obviously as possible on the blood containers, tucking three of them to the back of the fridge. Then he pulls out his Farmer’s Supply bag, and carefully washes Eddie’s new bottle.
It looks like a regular baby bottle but much bigger, promising to fit a whole quart. It’s technically meant to feed baby goats and lambs, but Eddie should fare just fine. Maybe later Steve can give him the blood in a mug or something, for now he’s too weak to drink by himself and probably too stupid to willingly accept any help.
He fills the bottle, then warms it in the microwave. He’s not actually sure what the temperature of blood is supposed to be, but he squeezes out a drop against his inner wrist and it seems fine. Steve diverts to the laundry room, finding a basket of freshly folded clothes. Well, they had been freshly folded until the munchkins went rifling through it, but he grabs Eddie something soft to change into anyway and heads upstairs.
Steve steps into his bedroom carefully. Early morning light has started to spill through the curtains, but he can’t see Eddie until he walks around the bed and sets the clothes down on his desk. Eddie has curled himself up in the fetal position on the floor, thankfully it’s easy to see he’s still breathing.
Steve is aware Eddie could attack him at any moment. He’d said he didn’t know how long he could hold on, that holding back his hunger was extremely taxing. But the thought doesn’t worry him as much as it should.
Probably stupidity. Lack of sleep. Misplaced trust.
Either way, Steve sits on the edge of his bed, right in front of Eddie’s crumpled form. Eddie tenses immediately, whimpering, and it breaks Steve’s heart.
“Eddie, can you sit up? I found something to help you.” he says.
“Go ‘way” Eddie groans.
“Eddie, you need to get up.” Steve says again. “I can help you if you like but you are gonna sit up,”
Eddie actually curls into himself tighter. “Won’t hurt you, won’t” he grits out, stubborn as a fucking bull.
Steve impatiently reaches out to grip Eddie under the armpits. “I know you won’t,” he says. Eddie is lighter than he expected, so hauling him up isn’t too much of a challenge. Steve pulls Eddie close and settles him on his knees in front of the bed, but Eddie twists and writhes in his grip, refusing to face him.
“You need to go, Steve! Go!”
“Eddie, just let me help!”
“I’m not gonna fucking bite you!”
Steve scoffs. As if “Just let me–”
In a moment, Steve wraps his legs around Eddie, crosses his ankles, and squeezes. The demobats have left Eddie exhausted, and he immediately swivels around face to Steve’s right thigh. Steve places a hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and grabs the bottle to shove it quickly in his mouth.
The change is immediate. As soon as the blood hits Eddie’s tongue, he keens and surges forward for more, Steve tightens his knees around Eddie’s middle to keep him in place. Eddie suckles desperately and scrambles against Steve to try and get closer to the bottle, but Steve just holds it steady.
“Calm down, it’s not going anywhere.” he chuckles.
Eddie doesn’t listen, and continues to whine and push toward the bottle. Steve lowers his angle, rubbing soothingly into Eddie’s neck. “Just settle, Eds.” he says. “I’m gonna take care of you. It’s gonna be alright, just let me help, ok?”
All Steve ever wants to do is help.
Eddie slowly relaxes, letting Steve feed him. He leans back to sit on his heels while Steve supports his back and scratches at the hair near the base of his skull. Something swirls low in Steve’s gut, watching Eddie eat. His eyes are closed, and his breathing has finally slowed as he leans softly into Steve. Completely trusting. Completely reliant. He looks as far from a monster as anyone could be. Steve is absolutely transfixed as he watches Eddie snuffle against the bottle. Just a few days ago, Steve wanted nothing to do with this man. He’d actually been jealous that Dustin might prefer Eddie over him. Now? Steve couldn’t imagine what he would do if Eddie had died.
Trauma bonding, Nancy would call it. Steve thinks it’s closer to how well he’s gotten to know Eddie over the past few days. He’s loud, boisterous, funny, nerdy, and kind– he talks about things Steve has no clue about while still managing to keep him in the loop, he’s fantastic with Dustin, he’s a great problem solver, an amazing musician, a loyal friend, and a self-sacrificial idiot. It’s only taken a few short days, but Steve has completely accepted that Eddie is one of those unique people he would do anything for.
He makes a quiet noise of discontent as Steve pulls away the empty bottle, but Steve only shushes him, reaches under his arms again, and hauls Eddie up to sit on his lap. Once Steve’s brain catches up with him and he realizes just how fucking weird it is for him to do that, it’s already too late, he’s done it. But Eddie has completely melted against him, so maybe it’s ok.
Steve takes a deep breath. If he wants to, Eddie can hate him later. Right now Steve said he’d take care of him, and that’s exactly what he plans to do. “Did that make you feel better?” he asks.
Eddie's eyes are closed, but he nods against Steve’s shoulder.
“Ok, good. Great.” Steve smiles, rubbing his hand nervously up and down Eddie's thigh. He grabs a cloth and wipes some blood from around Eddie’s mouth. Knew he’d be a messy eater, he thinks. Steve can’t even imagine the mess if they hadn’t used a bottle. “That’s really good, man. You can have more later if you want, but I think you might be more comfortable if you got cleaned up. Actually, can I look at the bites?”
Eddie opens his eyes and nods, reaching down slowly to lift up his shirt. Steve is amazed to peek under the bandages and find that even though they're still pink and tender to the touch, Eddie's bites have almost completely scabbed over.
Steve…won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“These look really good,” he says. “I have some clothes for you to change into, not exactly as exciting as your regular style, but they’re soft, and the t-shirt is black, so you won’t totally ruin your reputation.”
Eddie smiles, so Steve keeps going.
“But if you’re up for it it might be better for you to take a bath first. I have a tub in the en-suite, I can help, if you want. Would you be ok with that, Eds? If you aren’t, I can help you put your hair up and get some of the grime off with a wash cloth? Whatever you wanna do.”
It takes Eddie a while to answer, but eventually he bites his lower lip and mutters out a quiet, “bath, please.”
“Totally dude.” Steve smiles. “Come on, let me help you out,”
Steve scoops Eddie up and carries him to the attached bathroom. It’s weird to hear Eddie so quiet. He’d been worried for a minute there that Eddie somehow lost the ability to talk after his ordeal. That happened to Steve sometimes, on really bad days, and he knew from first-hand experience how frustrating it could be. But Eddie doesn’t seem to be upset right now, just quiet; reserved and soft. It’s definitely different from the outrageous metalhead Steve’s used to.
He sets Eddie on the toilet seat and starts the tap. He doesn’t own any actual bubble bath, but body wash will probably do the same thing, so he pours in a heaping capful.
When he’s done futzing with the temperature and remembering how to actually stop the drain, Eddie hasn’t moved at all from where Steve left him. Which…is a little concerning. Maybe he’s just tired.
As Steve reaches out to remove Eddie’s bandana from his hair, he melts into the touch. Steve strokes his hair softly, contemplative and a little self-indulgent, before moving to Eddie’s hands. He carefully lifts Eddie’s hands one at a time and removes his rings from each finger, putting them in the stopped-up sink for safe keeping. Then he turns Eddie’s wrist delicately to remove his bracelet, enjoying the steel’s heavy weight before it too goes in the sink.
Steve crouches down to examine his face, and finds that Eddie’s expression is strangely loose, almost like he’s…drifting. He’s still with Steve, but maybe not entirely. That’s ok. Steve will take care of everything.
“Ok baby, gonna take the shirt off now, that alright?” he asks.
Eddie meets his eyes and nods.
“Good,” Steve whispers. He peels the shirt over Eddie’s head and tosses it in the corner.
The demo-bat bites are more obvious in the bathroom lighting, but Steve isn’t worried about putting them in the water. He’s more concerned with the discovery of Eddie’s very interesting tattoos, broad pecs, and soft stomach. But more enticing that that is the way Eddie’s looking up at him, completely transfixed. Like Eddie’s world only revolves around Steve.
Steve can’t help himself. He reaches out a hand to cradle Eddie's face in his palm, and rubs his thumb against his cheek slowly. “You doing ok sweetheart?”
Eddie hums, nodding slightly in Steve’s hand.
“I’m really glad.” Steve smiles. “Don’t know what we’d do without you, Ed.”
He pulls away reluctantly, then leans down to take off Eddie’s shoes and socks, tossing them to the side and standing up. He turns off the water, then faces Eddie again. “Can you stand with me?” he asks.
Eddie does, nodding, and Steve slowly undoes his belt, rolling it up and putting it on the counter. “Gonna take off your jeans now,” Steve says, tugging them down. Eddie steps out of the jeans, left in just his boxers. Steve swallows, unsure for the first time during this whole thing. It’s not like he hasn’t seen the equipment before, but they haven’t talked about this. The last thing he wants is to make Eddie uncomfortable. He thinks for a moment, then–
“Ok, step into the bath Ed, you can take off your underwear once I close the curtain. When you sit down, I’ll wash your hair for you.”
Eddie nods, and he brushes past Steve to get into the bath. “Good boy,” Steve says.
Steve’s cheeks immediately flush scarlet and he quickly closes the curtain. That is certainly crossing a line. Steve has no idea where that even came from. He needs to reign it in if he doesn’t want Eddie to think he’s a fucking freak.
After a moment Eddie sits down and tosses his underwear out with surprisingly good aim, so Steve takes a deep breath and opens the curtain. On the other side Eddie looks…god, he looks so beautiful. He fiddles slightly in the bubbles and stares up at Steve with big, innocent doe eyes. Steve tries to ignore the way it makes his stomach flip and focus on the task at hand. No time to be batshit crazy, Harrington.
Steve reaches for the shampoo, then pauses. He doesn’t have anything to wet Eddie’s hair with. “One second, I’ll be right back, ok?”
Before Eddie can really say anything, he rushes out of the bathroom, and returns a moment later holding a bright blue, scalloped bowl. “Made this in clay class, one of the only things I kept.” he says, smiling. He dips the bowl into the water, then carefully tilts Eddie’s head back and covers his eyes. Eddie gasps a little. “It’s meant to hold my keys but I never put them in there. At least now it has a use.”
Eddie’s eyes flutter softly as Steve wets his hair, and he nearly melts into the water as Steve slowly massages the shampoo into his scalp. This might be the way Steve dies. It would be a good way to go.
As Steve bathes him, Eddie starts to make soft little noises, quiet whimpers and moans he’s probably not aware of making but that are risking giving Steve an aneurysm. Steve will get used to the silence, and then Eddie will slip closer to him and make the most intoxicating noise he’s ever heard. It’s absolutely maddening. Once he’s washed Eddie’s body and rinsed out the conditioner, Steve kisses the top of his head, pulls the up drain, and wraps Eddie in the fluffiest towel he owns, drying him carefully.
Eddie swallows, then says a quiet “Thank you,” not looking Steve in the eye. His cheeks are tinged pink and it’s the first thing he’s said in at least half an hour.
“Of course baby,” Steve says without thinking. He swallows. He’s being weird, definitely. But the thing is, he means it. He finds Eddie’s eye. “I said I would take care of you and I plan to.”
Eddie's cheeks flush even deeper, and Steve tries to keep the smugness out of his smile. For Eddie’s sake, of course. He hands Eddie the boxers and sweatpants he’d found for him, then opens the medicine cabinet and pulls out his comb. “What do you normally do with your hair for bed? Do you braid it?”
Steve turns back to see Eddie frozen with one leg in the sweat pants, the other still in the air. He snorts. “I can braid your hair if you like, I’ve got a couple of hair ties tucked away somewhere.”
“Uh, yeah.” Eddie says nervously, pulling up his pants. “Yeah, that’d be really great.”
Steve smiles. “Ok, keep that towel with you and come with me.”
He leads Eddie back into the bedroom and closes the curtains. It may technically be morning, but make no mistake, it’s bedtime.
“Uh, what’s with the plaid?”
Steve just laughs. “I don’t even know, man. I’m sure somebody told my mother it was all the rage in New York,” he pats the seat of his desk chair. “Come on, sit down. But sideways, so the back is on your arm.”
Eddie obeys. He’s still holding the stupid towel in his hands, so Steve takes it and starts scrunching out some of the water from his hair. “I should get you a leave-in-conditioner,” he says idly. “Your hair’s already beautiful but it needs just a little more moisture.”
“Trying to turn me into your show-pony Harrington?” Eddie asks. His voice has a strange quality Steve can’t put his finger on right now.
“I just can’t stand to watch great hair be neglected. It’s against the oath I took to become Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
Eddie bursts out laughing. Actually explodes into cacophonous giggles, until he adopts the voice of a proud, very serious knight. “I do solemnly swear to be without fear in the face of bedhead, to be always well-styled and high volume, and to guide the hair helpless in their hour of need,”
Steve laughs too, Eddie’s joy is infectious. He wraps the towel around Eddie’s bare shoulders and starts parting his hair into two sections. Then, he adds gravely, “You joke, but if I break that oath I’ll be cursed to be bald, so really it’s no laughing matter.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie giggles. His shoulders shake with mirth. “We could never let that happen, Sir Harrington.”
“Definitely not.” Steve says.
They fall into a companionable silence as Steve works on giving Eddie some loose double braids. Eddie’s hair is soft, and still a little damp. After a few moments, he starts squirming in his seat. “I never asked–I mean, I was awake for some of it, but-”
“Everyone’s fine.” Steve interrupts. “Vecna’s dead. Max has a broken arm, Lucas is nursing a pretty gnarly black eye, and we’re pretty sure Dustin sprained his ankle. Erica wasn’t hurt besides a few bruises, she’s more shook up than anything. Jason’s guys attacked the Creel house.”
“Shit,” Eddie hisses.
“They’re all downstairs sleeping, kids refused to go to the hospital until you were ok, but honestly the thing they need most is rest.”
Steve wraps a hair tie around the first braid, then says, “Dustin thought you died.”
“I…think I did.”
Steve takes a deep breath and starts the second braid. He’s not an idiot. He knows that Eddie’s craving for blood isn’t exactly normal. It’s different saying it out loud though.
“I remember passing out in Dustin’s arms. I was scared, cold, and in pain, but then I woke up. And everything was different. Everything is different. God, Steve, it’s so different.”
Steve focuses on the braid and lets Eddie gather his thoughts.
“It’s like everything is clearer now. And more intense. I can smell more, hear more. I think I’m a little more sensitive to light, but it was like, bright as day in the upside down.”
“Why did you run?” Steve asks.
The main reason Dustin had been so hysterical, was because after Eddie ‘died’, he’d suddenly jumped up and ran away. It had been especially confusing and distressing for Steve to hear Dustin say Eddie had run away, and that he was dead.
Eventually, they’d found the not-dead Eddie, who promptly passed out again, and faded in and out of consciousness as they made their way back to Steve’s house.
“I heard Dustin’s heartbeat. I wanted to bite him, Steve. It’s like my brain was screaming, like, hunt, food, kill, fucking scary shit. I was terrified I was gonna hurt him. I couldn’t do that, could never, ever live with myself if that happened.”
“It never would.”
“Steve-”
“You threw yourself into a swarm of alternate-dimension demon bats, with only a trashcan and a makeshift spear, just to protect that kid. Eddie, there is no universe where you ever hurt him.”
Eddie swallows, looking down and wiggling his toes. Steve makes a note to get him socks.
“I thought I was gonna.” he says. “I was so hungry, Steve. Ravenous. ‘Haven’t eaten in days’ hungry.”
Steve sighs, thinking about how unhinged Eddie had looked earlier. He’d been clinging to sanity by his fingernails, all because he was starving himself to keep the others safe.
“Thank you,” Eddie says. He coughs, a little awkward. “For, uh, feeding me.”
Steve’s stomach flips. He ignores it, and says “Of course, man. Of course.”
“It’s not nothing, Steve.” Eddie insists. “You could have left me in here. Probably should have left me in here. Let me starve it out, maybe come back with a wooden stake.”
Steve, a little pissed off, finishes the braid and crouches down in front of Eddie. “No.” he says, voice hard.
Eddie sputters. “What?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not just gonna leave you, Eddie. You don’t deserve that. I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you’re ok, because that’s my job. Once you get in this upside-down business, you don’t really get out. We all stick together. So no, I’m not gonna get a wooden stake, or lock you away. I’m gonna make sure you never have to go hungry again.”
Eddie’s jaw drops a little, and he stares at Steve for a long time. “But, but I’m-” he stutters. “Steve, I think I’m a fucking vampire.”
“All the simpler to feed you, not like there’s too much variety with blood. You got pig today, but you could branch out and do cow. We could set you up to get human blood with the government guys, use some donated stuff.”
“You’re taking this really well.” Eddie says.
“I’ve learned to roll with the punches. Now come on,” he offers Eddie a hand. “I’m exhausted, and the munchkins took all the guest beds, so we’re gonna have to bunk up.”
Yeah, right, Steve. That’s why you want to share the bed. No other reason.
Eddie smiles, taking Steve’s hand and casting off any nervousness with a show of cocky bravado. “Why Mr. Harrington,” he says, pressing his other hand to his heart. Steve forgot to give him the shirt, but neither of them mention it. “I normally have a fella buy me dinner first, but I suppose you did save my life…”
“Yeah yeah, just come on.” says Steve, laughing. He pulls the covers back and they crawl into bed together, both facing the window. After a few minutes of silence, Steve throws caution to the wind and wraps his arm around Eddie’s chest, pulling him closer.
“Told Dustin I’d wrap you in bubble wrap if I had to,” he whispers.
Eddie scooches back into Steve’s chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” says Steve. Holding Eddie like this makes him feel like puzzle pieces come together, something warm has slotting into place in Steve’s heart. He nuzzles his face into Eddie. “Goodnight, Eddie.”
“Night, Stevie.”