Chapter Text
Steve probably shouldn’t be driving. Especially not this monstrosity of a vehicle that he has no experience handling. But Eddie’s a wanted man, Robin doesn’t have a license, Nancy’s busy, and everyone else in the vehicle is a literal child. So he’s driving. His hands are so sweaty they’re sticking to the wheel, his stomach’s in knots, and the skin around his bite wounds feels hot and tight, like all the blood in his body is pooling behind them. But that means it’s not pouring out of him, so it must be a good sign. The red spots on Nancy’s makeshift bandage haven’t gotten any bigger since they came back Rightside. He’s fine. They’re all just worn down after days of running around town without proper food or rest. Nobody else is complaining, so he keeps his mouth shut and drives.
When they arrive at the War Zone, he grabs a tee shirt and a jacket and beelines for the bathroom. Their goal is to be inconspicuous; he can’t walk around the store in nothing but Eddie’s vest and a mangled strip of sweater. Once inside, he catches his first glimpse of himself since the morning before they set out for Skull Rock. His hair is limp and filthy after his swim in the lake. In fact, his whole body is coated in a thin layer of dirt and Upside Down dust. The wound around his neck stands out like a lurid red collar against his pale skin. The bat’s tail didn’t cut him; it’s more like a ring of rope burn dotted with bruises. Nancy’s sweater is stained various shades of brown and red. It’s still damp, though he’s not sure if that’s leftover from the lake or because he’s sweating like it’s summertime.
For now, the bathroom is empty, but he’s not running the risk of someone coming in and asking questions he can’t answer. Steve grabs a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, wets them in the sink, and locks himself in the farthest stall. He takes off Eddie’s vest first, gritting his teeth as his aching joints protest even that small movement. God, he’s so tired, he could probably curl up and sleep right on this bathroom floor. But they have a mission to accomplish, so he keeps moving. He folds up the vest and tucks it into the pocket of the new jacket so he doesn’t leave it behind. In four years of high school, Steve has literally never seen Eddie without it, so he knows he’ll want it back.
It takes him four tries to undo the knot at his right hip because his grip strength appears to be failing him and every slight brush of his fingers against his side sends pain zinging across his entire abdomen. Steve grits his teeth and sinks his nails into the fabric, determined to get it untied. At last, the knot comes apart and he’s able to peel the sweater away from his skin. As he does so, the wave of pain is so intense that he collapses to his knees and dry heaves over the toilet. Gasping for breath, Steve pushes himself up and turns around to sit on the seat.
In the bright fluorescent lights of the bathroom, it looks a lot worse than it had down in the Upside Down. Or maybe it’s actually gotten worse. Steve’s not sure, but it definitely doesn’t look good. His entire left side is dotted with little puncture wounds and smeared with old blood. He manages to wipe away some of the blood with a paper towel, but he has to stop before getting it all because he’s worried he’s going to pass out from the pain. His efforts have not done much to improve his appearance. The skin from his waistband to the bottom of his ribcage is bright red and inflamed.
If possible, his right side is even worse. Three deep, irregular gouges sit just above his hipbone. They’re bright red around the edges and oozing yellow gunk. He can feel the heat radiating off them even with his hand a few inches away. Around the wounds, his skin bears that same alarming red hue. Steve doesn’t even bother trying to clean this one. He throws the camouflage tee on, his breath hitching when it brushes against the wounds. The jacket goes on easier, but he’s still freezing even with it on.
Steve braces himself against the wall and stands up, tipping his forehead against the tile as his vision tunnels. After a few deep breaths, the darkness recedes. He flushes the bloody paper towels and then takes a leak. Hardly anything comes out, but he chalks it up to dehydration. Besides the junk he swallowed as he was being dragged through Lover’s Lake, he hasn’t had much water lately.
He washes his hands and runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to breathe some life back into it. It feels so gross it’ll probably take three washes just to get it back to normal, but they have bigger problems right now. Like Robin’s crush making out with a boy right in front of her. When Steve emerges from the bathroom and sees the pain on her face, he forgets all about his own.