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“Steve? Steve!”
Relief crashes through him.
Steve would know that voice at the end of the earth.
“Eddie,” he whispers, and keels over, strength leaving him now as he slides off the horse and hits the ground with a groan.
Eddie’s screaming. Yelling for his uncle, for anyone to help. His hands are on Steve’s cheeks, patting away frantically, then dragging him half into his lap, keeping his head out of the mud. “Steve, sweetheart, hold on, you’ll be ok, we’ll get you inside, keep those eyes open for me, you’re – oh, god, you’re bleeding badly.”
*****
Post-battle, Eddie takes care of an injured Steve, and holds him to a promise.
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Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie
Medieval Steddie Medieval Steddie Medieval SteddieMedieval Steddie Is good for the soul. Short little recovery fic