(Present Day)
"So—are you gonna go?"
"Go where?" Sadie murmurs, aware of the sensation of Steve's eyes drilling into her back as she stands over the stove, boiling lasagna noodles, while he leans against the opposite counter, keeping a careful eye on Chrissy as she perches on a chair nearby, munching on a small portion of the pretzels just obtained from the store after having wheedled them out of Steve mere moments after their return to his home.
"The—oh come on, you know exactly what I'm talking about!"
"Do I?"
Steve frowns as he watches Sadie standing over the stove, the taut line of her shoulders giving him every reason to believe she is well aware of the impending failure of her attempted lie. Almost immediately after her return home with groceries in tow, he could tell something was wrong, her smile a little too brittle. A little too forced.
He had asked her if something had happened, and she had blurted the truth about Gareth's offer not long after, but now Steve cannot help but think that Sadie is regretting ever saying a word.
"Did something happen?"
"What are—what are you talking about?"
"With you and Munson," Steve clarifies, aware of how Sadie turns to favor him with a startled glance, a strange sort of panic gleaming in her eyes before she looks at Chrissy, instead, "I mean, I always thought things were—you know—at least okay between you, before you left."
"Nothing—nothing happened."
"Then why are you so squirrelly whenever he comes up in conversation?"
"Squirrelly?"
"You know what I mean."
"Nothing happened," Sadie sighs, turning back to ensure the lasagna noodles can last a moment or two without constant observation, a slow breath escaping before she opts for facing Steve, instead. She can read the concern in his expression as easily as if it had been held above his head on a flashing neon sign. And although she would be lying to pretend she does not appreciate it, it also makes her nervous. Nervous, because she knows Steve is already assuming that if anything happened, Eddie is the one to blame.
And nothing could be farther from the truth.
"I just—Robin told me some things last night. Things I didn't know."
"You mean about the arrest?"
"You knew about that?"
"Knew about it? Jesus, Sadie, I think the whole town knew about that," Steve exhales, aware of the way Sadie's mouth curves downward into a frown, something not all that far from guilt flaring to life in her features, and making him more than a little convinced that there was something more to this that she was not telling him, "He doesn't blame you, by the way. If that's what you're worried about."
"It's not."
"Then what is?"
"Steve, I can't—"
"Mama, the water!"
Sadie never once thought she would be as grateful for a near mishap in the kitchen as she is in that particular moment, her attention almost entirely focused on the task of removing the pan of noodles from the heat, and dumping them into the strainer placed in the sink nearby. Dimly, she realizes Steve is encouraging Chrissy to venture out into the den for some pre-dinner tv, and a part of her regrets the loss of that unintended buffer her daughter had given her in seconds, flat.
The other part of her wonders if the potential for a full confession isn't exactly what she needs, the absence of Chrissy a sudden impetus to do what she would never have the courage to do otherwise.
"Leave the noodles for a second."
"But—"
"Please."
Frowning, Sadie allows the fully cooked noodles to remain where they are in the strainer, only going so far as to adjust the faucet so that a thin trickle of water can run over them to prevent them from sticking together. Slowly, she moves to face Steve again, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she struggles against the sudden nerves that threaten to root her to the spot.
This is it. She can feel it.
The moment he learns the truth. The moment he either accepts it, or turns her away.
Now or never…
"Steve—"
"You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to. You—you know that, right?"
"I do," Sadie confirms, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and forcing herself to continue looking Steve in the eye despite the lurch of apprehension in her stomach that comes about as a result, "But I do. Want to, I mean. I think."
"You think."
"It's just—"
"Complicated?" Steve suggests, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a grin that he is pleased to see Sadie struggling to avoid returning, herself, "Gee, I have no idea what a complicated situation looks like. You might need to dumb it down for me."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
"It's more than—than complicated. It is," Sadie begins, aware of the slight lift of one of Steve's brows, her fingers knotting together as she tries to force herself to summon the wherewithal to go on. Robin knows already. Robin knows, and she hadn't judged Sadie for the truth.
Steve hadn't judged Robin, all those years ago, about another deeply personal truth, so maybe he won't judge Sadie for the one she is about to disclose, now.
"When I left with Andy, I was—"
"You were what?" Steve asks, seeming to sense Sadie's apprehension through the pause that comes after her first words, her eyes suddenly taking a vast amount of interest in the noodles as she turns back to the counter and starts the task of placing them atop the thin layer of tomato sauce already in the bottom of the clear dish resting nearby. He can tell she needs that distraction. That she gave him all she could manage, without it, already.
In spite of his reluctance, Steve forces himself to respect that reality, leaning back against the countertop opposite where Sadie stands, his fingers gripping the edge while he waits for her to come up with a reply…
He's already fearing the worst, but as soon as Sadie does manage to speak, he knows absolutely nothing could have prepared him for this.
"I was pregnant."
"Oh. Well that—I mean Chrissy's four, so—that makes—what?"
"Steve, Andy and I broke up before graduation."
"O—okay?"
"She's not his," Sadie blurts, staring blindly at the lasagna noodles she has just arranged as carefully as she can, everything seeming to go still as she waits for the pieces to click together in Steve's mind. He has to remember she was with Eddie after that. After Chrissy died, and he had been the only one willing to pick up the pieces.
Comprehension takes a bit longer than she likes, though, and Sadie is half-tempted to stop beating around the bush and simply rip off the bandaid, but just as she is preparing to do exactly that, Steve is speaking again, his words soft—stunned—and causing her to squeeze her eyes shut against a sudden sting of remorse.
"Holy shit."
"I know."
"So she's—does—Munson. Does he know?"
"No."
"Jesus, Sadie."
"I know. I know, I'm—it's unforgivable."
"Woah. Woah, that is not what I'm saying. At all," Steve cuts in, not entirely sure he can decipher what his own reaction would be if he were suddenly placed in Eddie's shoes, though what he does know is that Sadie would never have made such a choice with any intent to cause harm. She's always put others before herself. Always.
And that only confirms that there is still something she isn't telling him. Something Steve is starting to believe he already knows.
"You didn't tell him because of the producer."
Sadie doesn't have to reply to confirm that he is on the right track, and Steve catches himself running a hand through his hair while she finishes preparing the rest of the lasagna, before carrying it over to the oven and placing it inside to bake. The tense set to her shoulders is back, like she is waiting for him to react unfavorably. To throw her and her daughter out as though they had never meant anything to him at all.
The fact that she would even come to that conclusion is ridiculous, and that realization is what finally prompts Steve to continue speaking, the sight of Sadie's startled expression hardly coming close to stopping him at all.
"Well that explains the squirreliness."
"That's—that's it? That's all you have to say?"
"Maybe I'm still processing."
"You can hate me, you know. I would—I'd completely understand."
"Sadie, I don't hate you. Not even close."
"Why?"
"Seriously?"
"Why?" Sadie repeats, her voice breaking around the word as she favors Steve with a look that has a curious twinge of pity twisting inside his chest, "You should, I mean—if it was your kid, wouldn't you—"
"I don't know. I don't," Steve admits, instinct prompting him to turn to head for the refrigerator in order to withdraw two beers, only pausing for long enough to pop the caps off, before handing one to Sadie, and leaning back against the countertop once again, "But I do know I'd try to give the kid's mom a chance to explain, either way."
"Steve—"
"And if I would do that, then Eddie definitely would."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Uh—maybe because he's a better guy than me? A fact that I will vehemently deny, if you ever tell him, by the way."
"Somehow I don't—I don't think it's going to be that simple," Sadie persists, frowning as the truth behind the words sinks in, and all the momentary relief she feels over Steve's lack of immediate judgment fades away, "He doesn't—he doesn't deserve this."
"He doesn't deserve to have a kid?"
"No! No, not that! He just—he doesn't—I never wanted to hurt him, and this? It—it will."
"I think it's gonna hurt him a whole hell of a lot more if he never knows."
Sadie knows that Steve is right. She would know it even if he never said a word. But she can't shake the lingering suspicion that Eddie will never forgive her, once he knows the truth…
"Andy found out, didn't he? That's why—that's why you're back here."
Steve could have anticipated Sadie's reluctant nod, but what he did not expect was the sudden reality of the dawning comprehension that snakes through him not long after, his gaze drifting toward the den to ensure Chrissy hasn't decided to wander back to the kitchen in search of more pretzels or her mother…
"Did he hurt you?"
"Steve—"
"Did he?"
"I was in the hospital for three days after he found out."
"Jesus."
"And I know it was stupid to come back here," Sadie admits, her fingers absently picking at the label on the beer bottle she holds, as a desperate attempt to give herself a reason to continue avoiding looking Steve in the eye, "I know it was. But I was just—I just started driving, and I didn't even realize this was where I was headed until—"
"Until you were already here."
"I should go."
"No. No. No way," Steve protests, aware of the shock in Sadie's expression, and yet refusing to back down, regardless, "You're not leaving."
"But if he—"
"If he follows you here, we'll deal with it."
"We?" Sadie repeats, skepticism apparent in her tone, no matter how she knows she can trust Steve to keep to his word. As much as she may be grateful for his support, she still hates the idea of dragging him into her problems. Of putting him up against Andy. Of any number of things that could result in him, or anyone else she cares for getting hurt.
Steve does not seem particularly bothered about that, though, if the expression he wears is any indication, and Sadie cannot help but release a resigned sigh, guilt at odds with an overwhelming sort of relief as he speaks.
"You don't really think I'd let you go and Chrissy back to that, do you?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all—"
"Well good. Because I won't," Steve persists, somewhat relieved to note that Sadie appears to be inclined to cease her protests, at least for the time being, though that relief is not enough to stop the renewed chill of dread that snakes through his veins at another thought, entirely, "He didn't—Chrissy. He never—"
"No. No, he never touched her. Just—"
"Just you."
She knows she does not have to, but Sadie nods, anyway, surprised to see the very real flash of anger in Steve's expression as a result. She didn't expect this. Didn't expect for him to be so inclined to protect not only her, but her daughter as well. Not after learning what she had done.
Sadie still isn't entirely sure she deserves such a thing, but she would be a liar to pretend she did not feel just a little bit more secure because of it.
…
(May 1986)
"Eddie?"
"Mm?"
"Are you—are you sure this is alright?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Eddie asks, aware of the way Sadie's fingertips trace the edges of the bat tattoos trailing down the skin of his arm while she curls against his side. They had only left the little spot by the lake to return to the trailer for dry clothes and some food, and now they were curled in the back of his van beneath a few more blankets.
Something he still hardly dared to believe, though Sadie's warmth against him—the sensation of her fingertips against his skin—prove time and time again that this is very real.
"I don't know, I just—won't your uncle wonder where we are?"
"Probably."
"I don't—Eddie, I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."
"Woah. I'm supposed to be the bad influence here."
"Eddie—"
"Am I to assume the lady wishes to steal my title?"
"Eddie!" Sadie exclaims, unable to resist the laugh the remark inspires, her fingers still lingering against Eddie's arm as she tilts her head back just a bit to look him in the eye. He is close. So very close to her. Close enough that she can feel the steady beat of his heart where she presses against him. Close enough to see the lighter specks of brown in his eyes.
Sadie wonders how she's managed to never notice them before, her cheeks warming a bit beneath the sudden intensity of his gaze, and making her more than a little grateful that it is dark enough inside the back of the van for Eddie to be unable to notice.
"Well. Do you?"
"Not at all."
"You're sure?"
"Definitely."
"Now tell me why I don't believe you," Eddie teases, anticipating the retaliatory swat Sadie aims at the center of his chest and latching onto her wrist before the blow can land, her eyes widening as he uses the contact as leverage to shift until he hovers over her smaller frame. Belatedly, he wonders if it was a mistake. If it will make her uncomfortable, or get her thinking about Andy, and inevitably lead back to her brother. To Chrissy. But Sadie surprises him, flexing her wrist a bit beneath his hold, and favoring him with a skeptically raised brow…
"Is this your way of forcing me into submission?"
"Submission?"
"Do you want me to define it for you?" Sadie quips, surprised at this sudden brash behavior, though the astonishment that floods Eddie's expression quickly rids her of any embarrassment she may have. She isn't exactly blind to the grief that still lingers at the back of her mind, but it is far easier to give in to Eddie's attempts to distract her than she might have initially believed.
Even when she realizes his expression has shifted, something not all that far from a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes, Sadie cannot exactly say she regrets her teasing, her teeth biting into her lower lip as he leans close enough that she can feel the warmth of his breath against her skin as he speaks.
"I could just throw you back in the lake again."
"You wouldn't."
"You're kind of making it hard to resist, Sweetheart."
"I suppose I should attempt an apology, then."
"It would have to be a damn good one," Eddie muses, a slow smile forming as he watches Sadie mull over the words, the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath his own reminding him of exactly how close they truly are. She doesn't seem bothered by the proximity, and Eddie stills as he realizes her free hand has shifted to rest against his skin, the pad of her thumb brushing against his cheekbone.
It is enough to stop his heart altogether, and he very nearly gives in to the temptation to lean closer to press his lips against her own, but for the sudden dimming of the light in her eyes as she frowns, a shaky breath leaving her before she speaks.
"I'm going to need to go home eventually, Eddie."
"Yeah. Yeah, I know."
"I don't—I don't want to."
Eddie does his best to stifle the relief Sadie's confession brings him, the part of him that had honestly been dreading her return home—her, leaving him behind—seizing upon the small victory despite knowing it can hardly be considered as such for Sadie, as well. She isn't reluctant to be with her family because she would rather be with him. He knows that.
Rather, she's fearing what she will face from them. The guilt. The blame for something she never could have controlled, even if she wanted to.
In seconds, he knows what he has to do. What he needs to do, because Eddie would do anything to make sure Sadie didn't have to face something like that on her own…
"I'll go with you."
"No. No, Eddie, you don't—"
"I want to," He insists, releasing Sadie's wrist from his hold, and shifting to sit upright, ignoring the pang of loss that erupts as the act causes her other hand to drop from its position resting against his cheek, "You don't need to go into that alone."
"They aren't going to like it."
"That's never really stopped me, before. Town freak, remember?"
"I wish you wouldn't say that about yourself," Sadie sighs, sitting upright, herself, and looking Eddie in the eye for long enough to realize that his expression carries something far different from the amusement of before. She can feel her heart sinking as soon as she recognizes it. And she finds herself possessed with a curious sort of anger that it even has to exist at all.
Eddie can bluster and make a show all he wants, but Sadie knows with just a look at him that the words used to describe him by many in Hawkins continue to cut deep.
"Why not? It's not exactly a lie."
"It is to me."
"Sadie—"
"It is. I've never—I've never believed that. And I never will."
In contrast to how uncertain she seemed when discussing the prospect of returning home, Eddie cannot help but notice how sure of herself Sadie appears now. Determination is so apparent in her gaze that he is almost taken aback, and he is reaching for her before he can fully consider the act, his hands gently cupping her face as he repeats the words he said earlier, and prays that she will not fight them this time around.
"I'm coming with you."
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Sadie agrees, one of her hands moving to rest on top of his own, the contact prompting Eddie to duck down until his forehead can rest against her own. Her eyes slip closed as she focuses on the comfort of his presence. The strength she can take from it, whether she deserves it or not.
For a moment, she is content to remember things as they were. When she and Eddie were just kids, playing out whatever epic journey he had dreamed up when he ought to have been paying attention in class.
Two kids against the world…
What Sadie wouldn't give to go back to that time, when everything had seemed so much simpler. When she wasn't terrified at the thought of coming face to face with her own family. But she knows better than most that running from her problems is hardly going to make them go away.
As she and Eddie settle back to their former position curled together in the back of his van, Sadie reassures herself with the knowledge that at least, when she does see her parents—Jason—she will not be doing so, alone.
And when she traces her fingertips over the bat tattoos again, Sadie recognizes the tightening of Eddie's arm around her waist, the urge to succumb to sleep aided by the sound of his heartbeat as he presses a gentle kiss against her hair.
…
Hello, everyone! And welcome to another chapter in this little AU of mine! I think I'm really having a bit too much fun with Sadie and Eddie, given my obsession with both of their stories. But I truly do hope that isn't too troubling, seeing as all I can really say is that I am nowhere near to being finished, yet!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! I am beyond grateful for your support, and so very thrilled that you are all seeming to enjoy how it's going as of now! It is my sincerest hope that you continue to enjoy where the rabid muses take us, and of course I cannot wait to hear what you think!
Until next time, my loves…
MOMM