Disclaimer: I don't own Stranger Things, obviously.

Intro: When Steve finds Eddie in the Upside Down, half-eaten by Demobats and bleeding out in Dustin's arms, he can't accept that this is the end. After all, he promised to keep Eddie safe, didn't he? Fix-it fic for Stranger Things Vol. 2, featuring Steve/Eddie and a fair bit of angst.

It was only after the ambulance had left and they had gathered themselves that Steve even realised that Dustin was hurt. They made a bedraggled, stunned group when they eventually arrived at the hospital, just another few scared teenagers amongst the crowds. Hawkins General Hospital was a hive of activity. Ambulances were constantly crawling in and out of A&E, pandemics racing back and forth, stretchers filling the corridors. The 'earthquake' had hit Hawkins hard, and it was clear that no one had been ready.

It was strange that, after all the commotion and panic, Steve felt surprisingly numb as they waited for Dustin's leg to be seen to. His brain wasn't quite able to take in simple questions or instructions. Eventually, Nancy had simply deposited him on a plastic chair with a lukewarm coffee, and he didn't feel capable of doing much more than just sitting there. He was vaguely aware of her speaking to hospital staff, trying to find out if Eddie had been brought in, but she didn't seem to have much success. He knew that Robin was sitting next to him, speaking every now and then in a hushed, worried tone, but could only really nod in response. Eventually, he became aware of Nancy crouching in front of him, her hand on his knee.

"They won't tell us anything. I'm not sure if they even know if he's here or not, they're totally overwhelmed."

He nodded, clutching the paper cup of coffee, his mouth dry. "What should we do?"

"Well, they're telling people who don't need medical attention to leave. But Steve, there's something else…"

Nancy glanced quickly at Robin. And that's when he found out about Max.

It was one shock too many for that night. He held on desperately to the fact that they knew Max was at least alive, although they weren't allowed any further information about what kind of condition she was in. Eventually, when Dustin had been handed back to them, his leg now wrapped up from ankle to knee, they resolved to leave. They had no way of helping the others. They had failed in their task, and now they had nothing to do but sit with the consequences.

They returned to the Wheeler household, where Mrs Wheeler folded Nancy into her arms and hugged her tight, tears brimming in her eyes. Steve's parents were out of town on business, but apparently they had called the Wheelers asking if they had seen him anywhere – he hadn't been home to answer their phone calls since the earthquake hit. He was told by a tearful and insistent Mrs Wheeler to stay there for the night, and accepted it without question. He didn't want to be alone. Eventually Robin headed home, and shortly afterwards Dustin's mother arrived to pick him up. They gathered at the front door to see him off. Steve knew he should be saying something reassuring to him, trying to offer some kind of support, but he still felt hollow, flat. He reached out and squeezed Dustin's shoulder as he got ready to leave, and Dustin looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since the Upside Down. He spoke up at once, as if he had been waiting for some kind of invitation, his eyes red with tears.

"Steve, I'm… I'm sorry it… it was my fault. I should've stopped him–"

"No, no," Steve managed to force out a couple of words, shaking his head. "It's not, it wasn't… I…"

He was pulling on empty. Once again, Nancy was there to rescue him. She offered a thin, tired smile and nodded encouragingly.

"It wasn't your fault, Dustin. We'll figure it out, okay?"

Dustin nodded, looking away. And then his mother was there, ushering him out the door, and Nancy jerked her head towards the stairs.

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

Steve couldn't even understand what time it was, but he nodded anyway. He felt bone-tired, every limb heavy and stiff as he climbed the stairs to Nancy's room. She had gathered together some blankets, but when Steve started to crouch down to sort them into some kind of sleeping area on the floor she shook her head and gestured at the bed.

"It's okay, Steve. Just stay in the bed, there's enough space."

At this point, Steve just did as he was told. He dragged off his top and then, as he was putting it down on the chair in the corner, suddenly realised his hands were stained red. Dried blood was still crusting his nails, staining the lines in his palms. His heart began to beat hard and fast, and he felt an uncomfortable sensation of crawling all over his skin…

"What is it?"

Nancy had noticed. He opened his mouth to try to explain, but the words were too much. Instead, he just showed her his hands, uncomfortably aware of the prickling feeling in his eyes. Her face cleared with understanding and she took hold of his wrist.

"Come on, you can have a shower."

He knew where the bathroom was, but all the same he let her lead him down the corridor and press a fresh towel into his hands. She switched on the shower for him and paused, resting her hand on the door handle.

"You okay? Do you need anything?"

He shook his head, and she slipped out into the corridor, closing the door behind her.

Being suddenly alone felt very strange. He could almost believe that none of it had happened, except for the fact that he was still covered in blood and dirt. He stripped off his clothes slowly, and then suddenly caught sight of himself in the mirror, of his ashen face, his wide, staring eyes… He looked like a ghost. His gaze travelled down to the bandages covering his sides and his stomach flipped unpleasantly. The fact that he had Eddie had experienced the very same thing was stark – the only difference was that Steve had been rescued quickly. He put his hands to the bandages and carefully unwound them – he couldn't very well wash with them on. The old bandages pooled in a pile on the floor, and he was left staring at the wounds in his sides. They had closed well over the last couple of days, no longer open and bleeding, but still red and tender. His fingers traced them carefully, and he found himself wondering how different Eddie's injuries had been. The demobats hadn't had much of a chance to get their teeth into Steve – the wounds were shallow, if still painful. Eddie's had looked deep, welling thickly with blood… Steve shook himself and turned away from the mirror, trying not to picture it. He couldn't bear to think about it, not yet.

He climbed into the shower, sucking in a small breath at the pulse of the water against his skin. The roar of the water filled his ears. He stood there for a while before reaching for the soap and beginning to scrub slowly at the bloodstains on his skin. There were more than he had realised – it had soaked through his t-shirt, leaving marks over his chest and arms where he had held Eddie against him. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore how sick the sight of it made him feel. His hands took the longest, and even after a good fifteen minutes he felt like he could still see red in the crevices of his nails. But he couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, and his head was beginning to pound. He washed the injuries on his sides one last time, hissing at the sting of the soap, and then shut off the water and climbed out.

He didn't think he needed the bandages still – there were only a few wounds that still needed covering. Instead, he rooted around in the Wheeler's medicine cabinet about the sink until he came up with a box of plasters. The very largest ones were just about big enough to cover any areas that still needed it, and he spent some time sticking them carefully on. By the time he had pulled his boxers back on and gathered his clothes up, he was sure Nancy had either assumed he had decided to sleep in the shower, or had fallen asleep herself. But when he finally arrived back at her room she was waiting up for him, now wearing a nightdress, her knees pulled tight to her chest. She gave a small start when he opened the door and then smiled when she realised it was him. She pointed at the end of the bed, where a fresh t-shirt had been laid out.

"It's one of Jonathan's. I thought you might…"

He nodded, suddenly feeling rather exposed in just his boxers, and tossed his clothes into a pile in the corner. He pulled the t-shirt on and headed around to the other side of the bed, climbing in beside her. He made sure to keep his distance, but she didn't seem to mind him being there, scooting down to face him as she lay on her side. Her large eyes were serious and sad in the soft glow of the bedside table lamp.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. He didn't feel okay. The shower had helped, but his skin still felt a clammy and his mind was still foggy. She reached out for him, resting her hand on top of his, and he blinked at her, trying to force a smile.

"I've never seen you like that," she said softly. "I've never seen you that scared."

"Don't think I've ever been that scared," he huffed softly with a humourless laugh. "It's never been… never been so…"

She nodded. "You did everything you could."

He felt again the prickling in his eyes, the lump in his throat, and swallowed hard. The worst thing was not even knowing if it had been worth it, if Eddie had even survived the journey to the hospital. And now they had no way of finding out, no plan. There were only two outcomes – the first was that Eddie had survived, and was about to be arrested by police for multiple murders. The second was… worse. Steve shut his eyes tight and rolled over onto his back, pulling his hand away. He heard Nancy sigh quietly.

"Just try to get some sleep. We'll work it out in the morning."

Steve couldn't bring himself to reply. He just tried to focus on his breathing, desperately trying to stay in control, hoping that the lump in his throat would go away.

There was really nothing else they could do but return to the hospital.

Steve had slept longer than he'd expected to. Eventually Nancy gently shook him awake at about midday, already dressed, her face tight and uncertain. He blinked up at her, squinting against the sunshine.

"Robin's on her way. We're allowed to visit Max."

Steve wasted no time in dragging himself out of bed. By the time Robin arrived a few minutes later, he was ready. They made a quick stop at his house so that he could change into some fresh clothes and then headed straight to the hospital. It was still busy, but this time when they got to reception they were directed to a room on the third floor. They arrived to find Dustin, Lucas and Erica already there, all of them looking as devastated as Steve felt. The small television on the wall was on, the volume low, perhaps a distraction from the heavy silence in the room. Lucas and Erica nodded to them, and Steve couldn't help but wish he could shrink into the corner and vanish. He hadn't seen them since they had set their disastrous plan in action. But hardest of all was facing Max, whose whole body was covered in casts, whose closed eyes were dark bruises in her face. Lucas was permanently seated in the chair beside her, his face lined with exhaustion, his eyes slightly red.

"They don't know if she'll wake up," he said. "They say it's a coma but…"

He trailed off with a shrug. He didn't need to explain any further – they all knew what he meant. There was no telling if Max was in a coma because of her physical injuries, or if Vecna had managed to take something more from her. Steve tried to think of something comforting to say, but still couldn't find the words. He was extremely aware that he was failing miserably at babysitting. Robin spoke up instead.

"I mean, there's no way Vecna survived that fall, right? He can't have managed to… you know… mind mangle her."

Nancy winced at her choice of words, shooting Steve a sideways glance. "She's got a point," she said tentatively. "We don't know that Vecna got to her."

Lucas just nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor. Dustin frowned, as if about to speak up, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he shuffled out into the corridor, limping on his injured leg. He was gone for a few minutes before he hobbled back into sight, dragging two more chairs, struggling, wincing. Steve jolted out of his daze, hurrying forward to help.

"Careful, Dustin, watch yourself, would you?"

Dustin looked away, and Steve could have kicked himself. He could tell that the younger boy was still feeling guilty, was still blaming himself, and Steve remembered how harshly he had barked orders at him back in the Upside Down. He cringed inwardly, and tried to speak more gently as he took one of the chairs.

"I got it. How's your leg?"

Dustin shrugged. "It's fine, they said it'll be fine."

"Good." Steve hesitated. "You okay?"

Dustin looked up at him at last, grimacing slightly. "Are you?"

Steve nodded. Fair enough – he didn't really have an answer to that question either. He settled for pushing one of the chairs towards Dustin, urging him to take it, and felt that some progress had been made when he did. He leaned against the wall beside him, listening as the group updated one another on the events of the past 24 hours. He heard with horror how Jason had interrupted their antics, how he had destroyed the Walkman, the only lifeline they had. He heard how Erica had witnessed the house splitting, the earth caving in as the four gates joined up across Hawkins. And Nancy and Dustin haltingly explained their side of the story.

Steve tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, not daring to look up from the floor as Dustin told them what had happened. He had already assumed that Eddie had sacrificed himself to buy them time, but hearing it out loud still hurt. And the fact that it had all been for nothing, after all that, simply rubbed salt in the wound. He found himself thinking of the blood, of Eddie's gaze growing glassy and distant, and hastily pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to shake himself out of it. He tried to focus on what they others were saying.

"So, where is he now?" Erica was asking, looking at them all. "Where did they take him?"

"We don't know," Robin muttered, glancing over her shoulder. "He could be here, or maybe there's some other facility they would have gone to? Or…"

She trailed off and the atmosphere got distinctly more sombre in the room. Steve suddenly had the distinct feeling that everyone was looking at him, and straightened up sharply. He cleared his throat, looking around at them all.

"I'm getting a coffee. Anyone want a coffee?"

They didn't, but he insisted and headed off into the corridor. After a few minutes of searching he came across a small coffee machine and vending machine, which at least gave him something to do with his hands. The image of the ambulance driving away was fresh in his mind, and he forced himself to stare at the bright lights of the vending machine until it faded. He bought two coffees, three sodas and two bottles of water, despite the fact that no one had asked for anything. By the time he got back to the room, the conversation had moved on. Dustin took the can of soda Steve shoved in his direction without fighting, and Steve deposited the rest of the purchases on the small table beside Max's bed. He took a sip of the coffee and almost spat it straight back out – it was little more than thin, grainy water. Still, he'd insisted on buying it so he drank it anyway, grateful for something to do.

"What about Mike and Eleven?" Dustin was saying. "You think they know about all this?"

"They have to," Erica said, folding her arms. "Nothing happens with the Upside Down without Eleven being involved."

Nancy nodded ruefully. "We still haven't been able to get in touch with them."

There was an anxious pause, and she looked around at them all, quickly realising what she had implied.

"I'm sure they're fine," she said. "It's just their phone is down. We just need to speak to–"

"Holy shit, Eddie!" Robin yelped.

Nancy raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, we need to speak to Eddie if we can, but also–"

"No, you dipshits, its Eddie!"

She pointed, and Steve followed the line of her finger. His stomach dropped to his knees as he saw the TV screen. Sure enough, Eddie's hellfire club photo was up on screen. It was the same photo the police had been using over the past few days. Steve scrambled across the room as if he had been electrocuted, thumping the TV's volume button, his breath caught in his throat. The volume inched higher painstakingly slowly, until finally they could hear. The image had changed to a policeman, who was standing in front of a crowd of reporters.

"That's here!" Nancy hissed. "That's outside the hospital!"

Robin made for the window at once, peering down at the street outside. Steve kept his eyes trained on the screen. The policeman's face was grim as he read from a piece of paper, speaking loudly over the hubbub of reporters and rattle of cameras.

"-very pleased to announce that, despite everything, we can now put this matter to bed, and Mr Edward Munson will no longer pose a threat to our community."

Steve couldn't breathe. He heard Nancy gasp, heard Dustin make an odd, tight noise. He stared at the TV, rooted to the spot, feeling for all the world as if someone had just ripped the floor out from under his feet. The reporters were clamouring, and the policeman pointed at one.

"Officer, do you have a response for the residents of Hawkins who are uncomfortable with Munson being treated at the general hospital during this distressing time?"

And just like that, the chance that there was still hope had been flung onto the table. Steve waited with baited breath, his jaw clenched tightly, watching as the police officer's face contorted into a frown. The other reporters were baying for an answer and he raised his hands.

"Rest assured, Munson is no threat to the general public at this time. But we understand the concern expressed by citizens and we'll be moving him to a secure facility first thing tomorrow."

The journalists were still pushing for more questions, but the police officer was turning away, waving them off, and the camera changed instead to the newsroom, moving on to the next item. Steve sank back from the TV, letting out a heavy sigh he didn't know he had been holding in.

"Holy shit, he's alive."

Dustin's hushed words rang through Steve's head, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to draw in breath. He's alive. He almost couldn't let himself believe it. Somehow, after all the blood and horror, Eddie had survived.

"We don't know what state he's in, though," Nancy said, her voice breaking through his relief. "Or where he is exactly. This building is huge."

"But we know he's in the building," Steve shot back, turning to face the rest of them. "At least until tomorrow morning. That I can work with."

"You can? I mean, where do we start?" Erica was looking around at them all, her eyebrows raised. "They're not going to tell us just because we ask politely."

"No," Robin replied, "But we can try."

Her gaze met Steve's, bright with enthusiasm, and he nodded. He made for the door, Robin falling in beside him. Nancy followed them to the doorway, her brow furrowed.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to do some serious sleuthing," Robin said, grinning. "Just you watch."

The sleuthing was rather short-lived, and somewhat pitiful. Steve didn't have much of a better plan other than flirting, and it turned out that a nurse on her 14th hour of an 18 hour shift really wasn't all that interested in flirting. The nurse in question glared at him over the top of the reception desk, her eyes narrowed and tired, her lips turned firmly downwards.

"Munson? Edward Munson?"

He cleared his throat, clawing a hand through his hair and doing his best to look nonchalant.

"We're family," he said, indicating Robin, who was lingering behind him. "I'm… I'm his brother."

"The only immediate family we have listed for Edward Munson is his uncle, who has already been informed of the situation."

"Oh – I meant cousin. We're just like brothers." Steve pasted a warm smile onto his face, even as the nurse's eyebrows arched in disbelief. He tried to school his features into a soft, concerned expression. "I mean, we're just really worried, and if we could check on him…"

"I don't think you understand," the nurse said coldly, leaning forward. "Mr Edward Munson is under arrest and due to stand trial for committing several murders in the local area. If you have questions, or evidence, or opinions on that, you'll need to speak with the police. But they've requested no visitors, and no further information is to be shared at this time."

"Err, Steve?" Robin was tapping him on the shoulder. He shook her off, casting her a pointed look, but then paused when he saw the meaningful expression on her face. He excused himself from the reception and stepped away, ducking his head.

"What? I nearly had her!"

"I don't think we need her to tell us where Eddie is."

"We don't?"

She jerked her head at the waiting room, and he followed her gaze to the coffee machine. A coffee machine which was currently being used by a yawning, very bored-looking police officer. Steve's heart lurched, and he glanced quickly back at Robin to find her wide eyes reflecting his own surprise.

"Do you think…?"

She shrugged hopefully. The officer picked up his coffee from the machine, sighing and glancing around in somewhat bored fashion, and then ambled towards the stairs. Steve lurched into action, ready to give chase, and Robin tugged at his arm.

"Careful!" she hissed. "Don't let him see us."

She was right – Steve's nerves were so frayed that he hadn't even considered how suspicious it would be to race after a policeman in clear view of the entire hospital. He forced himself to slow his pace, trying to appear nonchalant as they headed for the stairs. Keeping a good few meters between the officer and themselves was painstaking. The officer vanished from sight a few times as they climbed the stairs, and Steve fought the urge to quicken his stride. They were up two flights before the officer vanished through a set of double doors, doing their best to hang back.

"Check it," Robin murmured, nodding to the sign above the doors. "Seems like we're on the right track."

The sign for the ICU certainly did seem like the right area for a patient who had recently been mauled by Demobats. Steve cracked the door open, peering through. There was a small reception desk where the officer had stopped and was talking to one of the nurses.

"You see anything?"

"Hang on."

Steve caught his lip between his teeth, mentally urging the cop to hurry up and move on. He didn't want to be discovered lingering out in the corridor like this. Just as he heard some distant footsteps on the stairs, the officer nodded and headed off to the left, out of sight. There was nothing else to do but follow. Steve waited as long as he dared, and then pushed the door open and stepped into the ICU.

A quick glance around told him that there were far too many people here for them to slip past unnoticed. The nurse at the reception desk was already looking up inquisitively, and the rest of the ward was full of patients. Steve's gaze travelled over rows of beds, some half hidden by pale blue curtains, bleeping machines keeping a steady background buzz. He couldn't see Eddie's tell-tale mass of curly hair, or the officer, who seemed to have disappeared amongst the doctors and nurses.

"Can I help you? I'm afraid visitor hours are not until 4pm."

He was out of time – the receptionist was leaning forward, frowning slightly. He scrambled for an answer, for some excuse as to why he was there that would buy them more time, and then flinched as Robin suddenly seized his arm.

"Oh, hang on, this isn't the maternity ward," she said, her voice comically bright. "I think we're in the wrong place, Stev-hen. Steven."

She pulled on his arm, and then jerked her head pointedly. He followed her gaze and his heart lurched as he finally caught sight of the officer – he was further down the ward, raising his coffee in greeting as he joined a second cop, who was stationed outside a private room. The other cop had his gun ready in his hand, his watchful gaze assessing every nurse who passed by. The blinds of the room were shut.

"Come on, Steven, we should be on a different floor. Sorry to bother you!"

Robin was dragging him back towards the stairs, and Steve felt a flare of frustration. They were so close, so close to even just getting some answers as to what kind of state Eddie was in, if he was alright… but the officers were glancing over towards them, and it was clear that there was no way they were getting any further. The doors of the ICU swung shut behind them, and Steve let out a heavy breath. He glanced at Robin, eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Steven?"

She cast her eyes skywards. "I don't know, I thought we should use different names."

"Like Steven? Robin, you do realise that is my name…" Steve ran his hands over his face. "Shit… you think it's him?"

Robin offered him a sad smile. "I haven't heard of any other wanted criminals being admitted during the quake. The real question is… what now?"

Steve nodded. There was every chance that Eddie was on a completely different floor in a completely different room, but the officers standing guard seemed to offer some kind of clue. Either way, it was the only lead they had. It was the only shred of hope he had to cling to. He took a deep breath.

"Yeah. We need a plan." And then, with renewed vigour, "We need Dustin."

Bit of a filler chapter! Stick with it... Reviews are always welcome.

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