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Eddie's grip on the steering wheel of his van was tight as he pulled into his designated spot.
It had been tight—unyielding, unforgiving—ever since he had to leave Dreamscape, and now that he'd returned home, several of the newly-freed joints in his fingers felt like they'd been rearranged. Maybe forcibly crooked from being bent for too long, or dented from where they pressed against the metal of his rings.
He couldn't help himself though, much to the misfortune of his fingers.
He'd been excited since he left his songbird to return to his duties. He'd been itching to get home so he could speak to Wayne, and since he couldn't just speed through the streets like he really wanted to, his hands were left to bear the brunt of his impatience as he waited for his fellow drivers to make their turns and for the traffic lights to turn green again.
No longer.
After setting himself into a proper park, Eddie grabbed the tiny black rectangle that functioned as his car keys and kicked his door open. It was at times likes this where he was reluctantly willing to admit that smart keys weren't as stupid as he once accused them of being. Sure, he liked the idea of putting an actual thing into an ignition—it was one of those things that just sounded really satisfying—but when he was in a rush, such as now? He'd be spending a ridiculous amount of time getting the key out of its home, or go so far as to bend the metal if he yanked at it hard enough. And wouldn't that be annoying to deal with?
With his smart key, so long as it remained in his palm or was thrown into one of his pockets, he could move as quickly and as recklessly as he wanted.
Oh! He also didn't have to worry about manually locking anything either. As soon as he got to the garage door, the telltale double-click of his van locking itself echoed through the mostly-empty space, activated solely by the distance between his key and its recipient. It was a nice bonus, because Eddie knew himself well-enough to know he would have those days where something as simple as locking his fucking van would go right over his head.
That's where the perks stopped though. His uncle hadn't felt comfortable going further than that by sticking buttons that could open or close the garage doors on everyone's keys, well-aware of the risk he'd be inviting into their home if he were to attempt that.
If smart keys could be lost, they could also be stolen. And the last thing the Munson family needed was a widespread welcome mat into their home.
Instead, Wayne had gone through the trouble of installing transponders (similar in design to those readers that got people through tolls these days) into their vehicles. They couldn't be stolen without the perpetrator stealing the entire car, and an entire car going missing was much more noticeable than a small smart key suddenly disappearing. Then when word got out, they could simply disconnect the signal between the house and the transponder, and wham! They were safe from intrusion once again.
The only downside to that system was that everyone had to manually shut the garage doors when returning. Buuuut…well, when the button was an inch or so away from the door they needed to go through anyway to get into the estate, was it really that inconvenient?
Eddie was raising his arm and pressing the bright red button that activated the garage's closing mechanisms before he had to put any conscious thought into doing it. It was possibly driven by muscle memory.
He didn't wait until the door fully closed before moving on, as many other drivers in their estate preferred to. As soon as he heard the whirring of the mechanical doors behind him, he pushed the wooden door in front of him open and walked through the utility room separating the garage from the rest of the estate. From there, he nearly jogged his way through the lounge and towards the foyer. Then ignored the double staircase and continued further into the right side of the estate.
Eddie passed several large meeting rooms and smaller offices before reaching his uncle's work domain. When he heard no voices from the other side of the door, he carefully pushed his way inside with his request already on his tongue.
"What'll it take to get my songbird moved in here?" Eddie shut the office door as carefully as he had opened it, and moved to the only chair opposite to his uncle.
The older Munson glanced up for just long enough to give his nephew a nod of greeting before returning to the document he'd been reading prior to Eddie's return.
"Depends." Wayne hummed thoughtfully. His nonchalance about Eddie's question would likely be troubling to an outsider looking in, but those who knew Eddie had probably figured long-since out just how obsessed he was over the pretty singer at Dreamscape.
To them, maybe it was only a matter of time before this conversation came up.
"Would he be an employee or family?"
"Family, ideally. He has better protection that way." Eddie asserted.
He was well aware of how…off, shall we say…that sounded. Most people who heard his statement would understandably question how someone brought into the dark underbelly of crime and corruption could possibly be safer than someone who was kept away from it altogether. Heck, even his own circle might question it once they heard that their leader was going through with this.
To that, Eddie had an easy answer: family meant belonging. If his songbird was tied to the Munson name—not just hired by, but bound to—that meant he had a place amongst them. What that place was didn't have to have a name yet, but the fact that it existed was all that should matter.
Everyone who associated with the Munsons or who knew of them and what they had their hands in should also know what happened when you messed with one of their own.
It was a far cry from, say, a hitman that they reached out to for business purposes alone. Or a politician they could call upon and drop whenever it suited them.
Those people were expendable, in the grand scheme of things, but family didn't have such a clear-cut expiration date. Only betrayal could ever sever the bond between Munsons.
(As Eddie's own father found out the hard way.)
"Very good, very good. Then what part would he play in the family?" Wayne raised a brow, still looking at his document.
"He would be mine." Eddie leaned back further into his chair and brought his left leg up to cross over his right one. His hands found a comfortable place to rest in his lap.
Once again, Wayne didn't look shocked by Eddie's declaration. However, he did pointedly read through the rest of his document and make a show of filing it away before returning to the conversation.
His hands came to rest in front of him, forearms pressed into the desk and shoulders set as he asked: "In what sense?"
Wayne's tone was tranquil, as if he was already at peace with what Eddie was asking and what he'd need to do to help Eddie accomplish his goal, but the question itself had an edge to it.
In what sense would Eddie's songbird—would Steve—belong to the alpha?
That was an interesting question. One Eddie knew he needed to answer carefully, lest he want his uncle to get the wrong idea and withdraw his aid.
He knew, right off the bat, that his songbird wouldn't be payment or a common underling. Underlings were practically hired hands or associates that were connected to other branches of their network. That automatically meant that they weren't guaranteed the same protection and benefits that Eddie wanted for Steve.
And payment? Fuck that! Steve had no business with them or, to Eddie's knowledge, anyone else in the underground. And even if he did, Eddie didn't think he'd be able to treat Steve like…like…like h-he…like he's treated previous collateral. The other man would surely hate him if Eddie did that, and that's not what Eddie wanted.
Outright saying that Eddie wanted Steve as his mate was tempting. It was rushed and it may not even be smart when their interactions thus far have been confined to Dreamscape, but it felt like the most honest answer he could give his uncle. He knew he had been drawn to Steve ever since he saw him at the club, ever since he heard him sing, and his desire had only gotten stronger once he started conversing with the other man more frequently.
At the same time, there were secrets between them. Outside of Eddie's obvious 'secret identity' as a Prince of the Underworld, Steve seemed to have his own bits and pieces that he held close to the vest.
All of them centered around family, ironically enough.
The few times Eddie has tried to ask about the other man's family, his poor songbird would get so uncomfortable. His expression would harden or pinch up, and he'd force out a few strained sentences about how he doesn't have family in his life anymore through gritted teeth. His tone would get so tight that every word sounded like it had gone through a shredder before leaving his lips. His posture would switch between wilting like a dying flower and tensing like a coiled spring, just waiting for the pressure to release so he could high-tail out of the room.
It wasn't the most explosive reaction Eddie has seen, that honor went to his uncle (who had to put a bullet through his younger brother's head to keep the rest of their family safe), but it was still quite telling.
And if Eddie wanted to bring his songbird into the fold, he needed to consider those tells.
Assuming that Steve was running away from a less-than-ideal family life, one that must have been fraught with conflict in one way or another, would he want to step foot into Eddie's world? Where danger was abundant, friction seemed to exist around almost every corner, and survival depended on your ability to walk the fine line?
More than that, should Eddie invite Steve into his family without understanding the conflict that drove him away from his bloodkin?
They were important considerations to take to heart if Eddie wanted Steve by his side as an equal.
"In whatever sense is safest for him, and for us." Eddie eventually decided on. It was the best answer he could give with the limited knowledge he had on Steve's life. "So long as he's not a danger, I want him in my life. And I want him safe during his stay."
Wayne stared long and hard once Eddie finished speaking, looking every bit like he could force his way into Eddie's soul and dig his way through Eddie's memories to get a sense of just what his nephew must be thinking to come to him with a request like this. He was silent in his observation, as he usually was whenever he was looking for something. Refusing to give Eddie any hints as to which way he was currently leaning, or what tasks Eddie would have to complete before Wayne could make up his mind about any of this.
It was nervewracking.
The whole thing was stressful as Hell!
But it was also SO worth it.
After what felt like an eternity of scrutiny, Wayne seemed to like whatever he saw in Eddie (maybe his determination to see this through?) and settled back in his chair with a relaxed nod.
"I'll contact Hopper, see what he can find out about your boy. In the meantime," Wayne's gaze turned firm, "figure out his future here. If he's meant to be yours, cement what that means. You're asking me to welcome a civilian into our family, into our world. He won't be able to just walk away once he's passed the threshold, and you need to be ready to handle the fallout if he tries."
Eddie returned Wayne's gaze with a steady one of his own.
The message was clear: he could very well be ruining an innocent man's life with his decision if he was, at any point, uncertain about Steve's place. And while Wayne would always prioritize the safety of his nephew and his family over that of a stranger, he wasn't so heartless as to leave someone high and dry like that. At the very least, they would need to remember how they were the ones to pull Steve into a dangerous world, which meant that they were the ones who were responsible for him going forward.
Common fucking decency, and all of that.
In addition to that angle, Wayne wouldn't allow Eddie to act reckless or careless either. Eddie was already a symbol of the future of the Munson name, the heir to the Munson empire. One day, he would be the Head, and Heads weren't allowed to behave irresponsibly.
Especially not in regards to the family's exposure to the public.
The bottom line was—if he was going to be dragging a civilian into the darkness, he better damn well be sure that civilian had a place in the shadows. And if Steve didn't, if he ever wanted to return to the light, the Munsons would need to ensure that he couldn't put the rest of their family in danger on his way out the door.
"I'll handle it." Eddie reassured his uncle with a nod of his head.
His songbird was just that; HIS. Steve had been EDDIE'S for a long time now. And Eddie was going to do what it took to ensure that Steve was comfortable staying HIS.
He could promise his uncle, himself, and his sonbird THAT with full confidence.
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Eddie's best strategy for completing Wayne's requirement was fairly straightforward: he needed to continue visiting Dreamscape and he needed to continue speaking with his songbird. He needed to be absolutely sure that he truly wanted STEVE by his side for the foreseeable future (and maybe even the not-so-foreseeable future).
If he could find a way to 'naturally' steer their conversations towards Steve's personal life as he made his decision, then great! If Steve clammed up too early on or was only willing to give him vague answers, that was still fine. With each attempt at deflection on his songbird's part, Eddie still learned things. Some of them 'things' that good ol' Hop Hop would probably tell him later on, some of them 'things' that were probably left out of the papertrail of Steve's life.
For example, while Hopper could tell Eddie that Steve's parents were still alive even if they weren't part of his life anymore (something Eddie has assumed but was unable to confirm), the chief of police wouldn't be able to specify that they were the only members of Steve's family that his songbird had issues with. Eddie had to find that out himself through a series of context clues gathered from at least four separate conversations that had to be spread out so as not to attract any suspicions on Steve's part.
Steve doing a live performance of Flash Mountain? Eddie's admiration of the guitar work Steve developed himself and then played in the background easily transitioned into a whole discussion about how 'ya know, my grandpa was actually the one to get me my first guitar' and how 'I know, I know, I SAID my uncle was one of my main supporters in music but I meant, like, he'd listen to shit with me and keep an ear out for artists I might like'. Steve would usually follow that with small snippets about his own grandparents, both of whom he spoke fondly of whenever he talked about Christmases he shared with them or vacations they invited him to.
In some contexts, the implication that they invited him specifically to get him away from his parents was heavily present.
Steve humming the tune for pieces like Go For It and Runner during his regular shifts behind the bar? Eddie's comments about how both of those songs involved multilple elements—different types of guitar work, drumming, and keyboard expertise—revealed how Steve had turned something that was once forced upon him, by his parents went unspoken, into one of his most treasured hobbies.
Not only that, but it hadn't been a solo journey.
If it had been up to them, I would have stopped at the piano. They liked to believe it was the only respectable instrument someone in my position could be caught playing. I disagreed. So did Da-ehem…so did…m-my…myyyyy Uncle. Who I-I saw as more of a d-dad than my actual dad! You know?
Hmmmm…interesting.
So, Steve had someone who had helped him learn how to navigate the guitar and the drum sets behind his parents' backs. Someone who could very well be another family member. Someone who was close enough to at least one of his parents, given how much access this 'Uncle' had to him and how Steve spoke of him with the same love he used with his grandparents.
(Eddie could relate. Lord knows his uncle easily became the father he never had, the father Al Munson never bothered trying to be.)
Yeah, if that didn't highlight Steve's parents as the only ones on his shit list, Eddie didn't know what other clues he needed to get the point.
Oh! Speaking of which, another thing he learned before Hopper? Weeeeeellll…
With Steve's parents out of the picture, and the family members he trusted implied to not be around anymore, he was an inch away from being completely isolated. Both in and out of Dreamscape.
From what Eddie has seen IN the club, Ms. Robin was the only employee who consistently had shifts that aligned with Steve's schedule and she was usually the primary person looking out for him when he was working at the bar.
OUT of the club? A quick chat with Scarlett and Hazel confirmed the same thing. Ms. Robin was the only person Steve ever let visit and sleep over. His other co-workers probably didn't even know which side of the city he lived in.
That was…it-it wasn't…
It probably wasn't ideal for someone who tried to live a 'normal, average' life. That type of solitude would surely mess with a person's sanity, even if they were deeeeeep into the introverted side of the spectrum.
For Eddie's intents and purposes? He couldn't have been more happy to learn of his songbird's limited social life. Limited friends and family in the area meant limited eyes, and limited eyes meant limited 'red alert's should Eddie need to hide Steve away for his own safety. Something that was bound to happen a handful of times once Steve was welcomed as an official member of the Munson family.
At least for the first few months! Hopefully, he'd be able to slowly give Steve his freedom back once the news died down and everyone got used to his presence at Eddie's side.
Privately, Eddie hoped Steve didn't ask for too much freedom. A second reason he was happy to hear of Steve's tiny circle of friends had everything to do with the greedy, selfish part of Eddie who wanted the other man for himself. Eddie wanted to be the main source of light in Steve's life, he wanted to be the man's main source of happiness. And if Steve didn't have many other people to occupy that spot, all it meant was that Eddie was free to swallow him whole.
To shower him in devotion that would never be rivaled and enjoy Steve's devotion in return.
Obsessive? Perhaps, but Eddie knew he'd never intentionally hurt his songbird. Could the world say the same thing?
No.
Eddie knew that was a promise the world couldn't make, not when it had already failed his poor songbird so badly.
That was fine though. He would be all too happy to make up for such a monumental fuck up.
As soon as he was in a position where he could safely do so, he would make everything better.
He just needed a liiiiiiittle bit more on his songbird, and everything would fall into place.
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"The fuck do you mean there's nothing?" Eddie asked, incredulous.
Alright, Eddie took it back.
It looked like he needed A LOT MORE on Steve before he could make everything better.
"Just that." Hopper, seated across from Eddie on Wayne's left, furrowed his brow as he set the manila folder he brought with him on the meeting table.
It was thin, far too thin for something that was supposed to contain a person's life story. In that sense, it was almost a taunt. Its size and existence was making fun of Eddie, mocking him for his inability to gather information about Steve's private life.
'Oh, you had a couple of months with the guy before I came in and could only get two, maybe three, things outta him? Well, fuck you, I'm not doing your work for you either! Show some effort, you lazy ass, and then MAYBE we can talk!'
For fuck's sake!
Information was a big deal in their line of work. One of the biggest deals there was and ever will be! It kept the products and the money flowing. It kept the Munsons on top. It literally made the difference between life and death.
What the fuck did Eddie mean he couldn't get much on Steve?
What the fuck did Wayne mean he couldn't get much on Steve?
What the fuck did Hopper, the literal chief of police, mean he couldn't get anything on Steve?!
"When I looked into Dreamscape's employee records, the only 'Steve' I could find was a 'Steve Davis'. But when I tried inputting 'Steve Davis' into our database, he's the only person the system spat out!" Hopper groaned as he finished speaking. It was a gravelly sound, one that seemed to resonate deep in his chest before making its way through his throat. "No family, no outside contacts, nothing! He doesn't even have prints I could compare against other people or use to find a familial match because he's got no record. Squeaky clean! As far as his visible profile is concerned, it's like God snapped him into existence. That, or the Earth grew him."
Eddie didn't know what pulled a scoff from him: the proposal that there was a God, or that the mortal plane could create such an angel from scratch. Both ideas were ridiculous enough to warrant a bit of mocking, as restrained as it compared to the speech he usually had prepared for people who believed in a 'higher being' and all that shit.
"And what of the parts of his profile that aren't as visible?" Wayne turned more towards Hopper and raised a brow. "I don't suppose there were any trails you could look into in that department? Trails that could explain WHY Mr. Davis's information seems so…sparse?"
The good news was that Wayne didn't sound troubled or angry as he asked. His tone was the most calm it could be, if not twinged with a slight undertone of genuine curiosity. Eddie took that to mean that his uncle wasn't going to call this whole thing off at the first hurdle.
The bad news was embedded in Hopper's answer.
"Yes and no." Hopper grunted out.
He still sounded frustrated, but it was the type of frustration Eddie has heard from himself when he returned from a busy day at the 'office' or if the mission he had just completed was 10x more complicated than it needed to be. That, combined with Hopper's answer, gave him some hope that they had some form of information, some plan for a next step, instead of being left to flounder in the dark.
"The trail that I found didn't lead very far. At least, not for me. To gain access, I'd need higher clearance. " Hopper rolled his eyes. "Apparently, being the chief of police doesn't grant you the all-seeing-eye. What I CAN tell you is…the documents for his identification? That shit was dated recently."
"How recent?" Wayne tilted his head.
"Like, 'in the last five years' recent." Hopper brought his left hand up, resting his forearm against the meeting table, and jabbed at the manila folder with his right pointer finger. "If I hadn't known beforehand that I was looking for someone old enough to be serving alcohol, I'd be a bit concerned as to why your nephew was after a five-year-old."
Eddie's nose wrinkled in distaste, and he barely managed to keep the snarl that bubbled away in his throat from leaving his lips.
He was a bad man, alright? He knowingly and willingly did bad things. Shit, he even found pleasure in some of the bad things he did.
But pedophilia? Hell-to-the-no! He wasn't that type of predator, thank you very much!
He was a hunter, a killer. The death knight of his uncle's underground kingdom.
And Hopper's wise choice in wording was probably the only reason Eddie didn't rip the other man's throat out as punishment for even entertaining the idea that he could be the former.
"What do you make of that?" Wayne smoothly brought Eddie's attention away from his less-than-peaceful thoughts. Bringing up his right hand, the older Munson rested his elbow on the meeting table and used his palm as a headrest. As his chin found its perch, his right hand came up, fingers beginning to drum against the wood. "Is this merely someone who went through a name change or are we dealing with someone who could be in witness protection?"
"If Mr. Davis was in witness protection, I don't think I would have been able to pull up his files in the first place. I'd need a court order for that, or he would have needed to commit a crime that warranted an investigation." Hopper sounded exhausted by the mere idea of having to jump through so many hoops. And that was saying something, considering how he still carried that 'just finished a busy day' frustration that Eddie could relate to. "More likely he did it himself when he turned legal."
Oh, hardly 'more likely', my good man. At this point, it's absolutely likely.
Eddie thought back to the clear conflict he detected between Steve and his parents, and how resolutely the other man kept to himself. Put together with the new information Hopper had provided, the pieces were starting to come together.
His songbird had fully cut himself off from his past. He must have, to be taking such drastic measures. The resentment that could have been festering since childhood had taken hold, pushing Steve to do whatever it took to put distance between himself and the people he hated. If that meant going through the complicated process of becoming a new person, so be it. If that meant sticking to an average job when his appearance, charm, and talents could have easily gotten him on a much grander stage, so be it. If that meant living a life of mostly-solitude, rarely letting people close and living life with so few emotional connections, then…so fucking be it.
Steve had run. He had hid. And judging by the life he managed to make away from his parents, Eddie would say that he was successful in breaking away.
It all made sense. It all fit so cleanly!
Which meant that the next logical question Eddie needed to consider was this: did they need to dig deeper into Steve's life, knowing that his past connections hadn't been able to touch him for half a decade?
On one hand, should they jump ship and welcome him into the Munson family without much of a fuss, that was added protection. If his parents couldn't find Steve when he was on his own during the process of changing himself, they definitely weren't going to find him when Eddie's resources were aiding him in staying hidden.
So what was the point of dredging up the past?
On the other hand, the earlier philosophy regarding intel and intelligence gathering still applied. Having every scrap of information they could find was a big deal. It would always be important.
…and, besides…
Eddie supposed it couldn't hurt to know who it was that his songbird had run from. He could be more effective in helping Steve keep his distance. Or, if his parents' crimes against him were horrid enough, perhaps some punishment would also be in order.
Just a thought! Juuuuust a thought.
"If that's the case, he should be safe then. We can put the investigation to rest, no?" Wayne, as if reading Eddie's mind, turned to address him specifically. There was no pointed look or anything to his tone that could suggest that he wanted something from his nephew. He was as open as he could be to suggestions or ideas that Eddie wanted to follow-up with. "Unless you want to know everything there is to know about your boy?"
…okay, that…that just-nevermind.
That may not have been a pointed look, but that was a pointed question.
A passive-aggressive pointed question.
"Do you actually have to go to court to get access to Steve's original files?" Eddie sighed after a few moments of silence. There was no point in pretending that he wasn't aware of the benefits to having the whole story on hand, or that he wasn't interested in knowing about his songbird's past. "Or is this something that can be dealt with under the table?"
"Well…" Hopper narrowed his eyes in thought. "Yooooou…could probably get away with petitioning a judge for access to his documents. So long as they know how to cover their tracks, they could hypothetically get the information you need without having to make a public spectacle of it."
"Great." Eddie would like that option, please. "We have any judges on the payroll? Or any who owe us a favor?"
Wayne chuckled, an amused twinkle entering his eye as he answered: "I believe Judge Carver can be convinced to go along with what we want if we knock young Jason's debt down by a couple hundred or so."