May 12, 1986

"What did she say?"

Steve was staring at Max, who still lay motionless in her hospital bed. The same machines beeped and whirred. Her eyes were still closed.

Lucas sat in one of the hard, plastic chairs, elbows on his knees, legs bouncing from the adrenaline of whatever happened. Dustin stood across the room, his posture equally antsy.

Lucas explained. "It was after mom and Erica left. I don't know how long after. I fell asleep, but…she moved! I don't know if she could see me. But she turned her head toward me and said, 'Help! Please, Lucas, help! I'm…here! Help!' Then she just…stopped. Like it didn't happen."

"Did anyone else hear it? Or see it?" Steve asked.

Lucas shook his head. "No. Everyone's at home. Joyce and Will and Jonathan and El are leaving tomorrow…" He glanced at the clock. "Today…for California."

"Maybe she's waking up?" Dustin suggested hopefully. "Maybe it'll happen in bits and pieces?"

Lucas still looked uncertain. "I got one of the nurses. She checked all of her vitals and stuff. There was nothing different except for a little blip on the heart monitor. The night doc said they might do another brain scan tomorrow. See if anything's different."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at Lucas. The young man was haggard. Steve had no idea how much time he was spending here, but it had to be more than was healthy. "Are you sure you weren't…dreaming or something?"

Lucas stood and paced the room. "Yes! I'm sure! It was like, for a moment, she was completely herself! Like, verbally! She said those words perfectly clearly. Not…confused. Not…groggy. Like…she broke through for a second."

Lucas leaned against the wall, and it was Dustin's turn to pace.

"What if," Dustin's face lit up, "she did?"

"What?" Steve asked.

"What if she broke through? From wherever she's…trapped?"

"Trapped where?" Lucas asked. "Vecna's dead."

"We don't know that!" Dustin went on. "We also don't really know how this…mind layer works. How the void works. What if Max is trapped in one of those?"

Steve considered it. "But, if Vecna can trap people in there, why let anyone escape? Why let El escape? Or Nancy? Or Will?"

Dustin shook his head. "Maybe…he didn't let them. Maybe they were just strong enough to get out! But Max…maybe she was there too long? Or too deep?"

"Or her body's too weak," Lucas added somberly.

Steve rubbed his temples. "It's a possibility. I guess."

Dustin threw up his arms. "Steve! How many times do I have to be right? Seriously? How many ?"

"All right! Fine. Geez, Henderson."

Dustin shook his head. "I was right about the compass. I was right about Watergate. But you had to get in the boat and–"

"I'm the one who swam down there and found the damn–"

"Guys!" Lucas cut them off. "You're gonna wake the whole damn hospital!"

Steve and Dustin were silenced, both looking a little sheepish.

"So…what do we do now? If Max is trapped?" Steve asked.

Dustin looked back and forth between them. "We need El. To search the void."

"What time do they leave?" Lucas asked worriedly.

Steve looked at the clock. "In about two hours."

"Shit." Dustin huffed. "Let's go."

"You stay." Steve barked at Lucas. "In case she says anything else."

Then he and Dustin hurried out of the room.

"What. Do. You. Want?"

Steve was staring at Hopper, who looked less than thrilled to have teenagers banging on the door at six a.m. Karen Wheeler stood behind him, yawning and tying her bathrobe.

"Is El still here?" Dustin demanded.

Hopper raised an eyebrow. "No. She's at the airport. With Joyce and the boys."

"Shit." Dustin exclaimed.

Hopper sighed, too tired to correct him.

"I thought the flight was at nine?" Steve asked.

"There was an earlier flight," Hopper's level of annoyance was not changing. "They left to try and catch it. They're getting on it right now."

"Shit!" Dustin exclaimed again.

Hopper rubbed his face. "I"m afraid to ask, but why is this a problem? At the crack of dawn?"

Dustin glanced at Karen, who was still standing behind Hopper, and then at Steve. "We just…wanted to ask her something."

Hopper sighed again. "You can call her in a few hours. Can it wait until then?"

"Um…sure." Steve answered. He was afraid to say more with Karen there. He still wasn't sure exactly how much Joyce and Hopper had told her. "We'll call her later."

Dustin looked like he wanted to argue, but Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

An hour later, they were sitting in the cabin again, waiting for Lucas and the others who were still in town. When Steve answered the loud knock at the door, he was surprised when Erica led the way.

"I can't wait to find out what kinda mess you've managed to get into already." She stared Steve and Dustin down, one hand on her hip.

Erica had grown up a lot over the past year, and Steve had to admit their whole plan to kill Vecna wouldn't have worked without her. But he also hated the idea of bringing another kid into this mess.

As if your childhood, without the Upside Down, was so much better? The thought hit Steve hard. But he had to admit, he felt more authentic since the first gate opened than he ever had in his life. Who was he to decide what was best for Erica?

Behind her, Lucas, Nancy, and Robin entered the cabin and dropped onto the sofa and a couple of the chairs strewn about.

"Where's Mike?" Dustin asked.

"He has to wait for El to call him. From California." Erica rolled her eyes.

Lucas snapped at her, "You're lucky mom and dad finally let you out of the house to come here."

Erica faced off with her brother. "I believe I helped save your ass. In both the real world and in your Hellfire campaign. So, it might be time for some respect."

Eddie came out of the bedroom just then, catching the end of her sentence. With a half smile and a nod, he said, "Lady Applejack."

Erica froze, and her bravado faltered for a moment. Steve assumed Lucas told her about Eddie being alive, but she'd yet to see it for herself. Erica wasn't as demonstrative as Dustin, so she didn't run to embrace him. But she accepted another handshake of solidarity. "Eddie the Banished," she said with a hint of a genuine smile.

"So," Nancy cut in, "why are we all here again?"

Steve glanced at her. "Sinclair called us last night. Late. Max said something."

They were all suddenly on high alert.

"Is she awake?" Robin asked, her face desperately earnest. For all her rambling, Steve loved that she cared so much.

Lucas shook his head. "No. She said a few words, so clearly, and then she sort of…disappeared again."

They all listened as he told the same story he'd told Steve and Dustin earlier.

"So we're thinking," Dustin cut in, "maybe she's trapped somewhere. Like, in the mind layer. Or the void. And, maybe, El can reach her."

"Didn't she look before? For Max?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah. But maybe she was looking in the wrong place." Dustin explained.

Steve spoke up, "Henderson thinks she might be in Vecna's mind…wherever that is."

There was a heavy silence as they all thought it over.

"So she's kinda caught between worlds? Vecna didn't actually kill her, physically, so he can't kill her…mentally?" Robin proposed.

"Yes!" Dustin said, his face lit up with the excitement of a new idea, a way to save their friend.

"Do you think El can look from where she is? In California?" Robin asked.

"She should be able to. If she can find the stuff she needs." Dustin stated.

"What does she need?" Eddie spoke up. While they were talking, he had found a box of cereal and was now sitting on the kitchen counter eating out of the box. Steve noticed, as Eddie gradually healed and got stronger, his personality returned en force. And eating cereal from the box and perching everywhere but in a chair, two things that were explicitly banned in the Harrington household, were two of his main quirks.

"To enter the void?" Nancy spoke up. "Sensory deprivation. Right?"

"Yep." Dustin nodded.

"What's sensory deprivation?" Eddie asked through a mouthful of cereal.

"It's when you block out your other senses to allow your telepathic sense to work better. El floats in a pool with blackout goggles. Or uses TV static and a really quiet room." Nancy explained.

Eddie nodded.

Robin perked up. She whipped around to face Eddie. "Do you think you have that power, too?"

Eddie froze and stared at her, his eyes suddenly full of worry.

"I mean," she went on, "if you can throw people, maybe you can…see stuff?"

The room was silent. Steve could feel the heavy uncertainty.

Erica's voice cut through. "Wait… throw people?"

"Eddie threw Hopper! With his mind !" Robin looked around. "Is everyone else pretending like that didn't happen?"

Silence.

Robin insisted, "Come on! We have to talk about it eventually!"

Eddie set down the cereal box and slid from the counter.

Sensing his discomfort, Dustin spoke up, "Eddie…we all support you. No matter what. Like…look around. You can never be too weird for us."

Eddie glanced around. "I'm not worried about fitting in, Henderson. I'm worried about…being tied to…him."

Nancy spoke up, "So is Will. And El. But we said no more secrets."

After a moment, Eddie's expression changed. With a shrug of his shoulders he said, "Okay. I guess we're gonna do this."

With a bright grin, Dustin stood and met him as he crossed the room. He clapped his hands on Eddie's shoulders. "Eddie the Banished, I now dub thee, Eddie the All-Powerful."

Eddie scoffed. "I don't think lifting cereal boxes and slamming doors qualifies someone as 'all-powerful.'"

No one spoke.

"That's…very specific," Robin observed.

Eddie looked suddenly sheepish. "There's not a lot to do around here, okay?"

"So," Erica crossed her arms over her chest, "show us what you can do."

Eddie glanced around once more, then turned his focus to the door to El's old bedroom. He raised his right hand and fixed his eyes on the door. For a second, Steve felt an odd, almost deja-vu sensation. Eddie's long brown hair. Intense, brown eyes. Long, slender fingers conjuring unseen power. He might as well be channeling El. Steve shook it off.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

Nancy jumped, and the others slowly turned from the door to Eddie. Then, a cacophony of voices rang out.

Dustin was quite literally jumping up and down. "I knew it! We have another superhero!"

Nancy chewed her lip. From her spot on a barstool, she waited for the noise to die down. Then she asked Eddie, "So, you don't remember anything from the Upside Down? How you got this…ability?"

Eddie met her gaze. "I remember flashes of…shit. Sometimes I dream about it." He began to pace, and it was obvious the memories weren't pleasant. "The other night…I dreamt about hiding and then swimming…in the dark. I see the bats sometimes…I hear them…" He dropped onto the sofa, and Steve could see his hands shaking.

Steve suspected Eddie was remembering more than he let on. He could hear Eddie thrashing in his sleep. Heard him wake up screaming more than once. But Eddie didn't seem to want to talk about it. He mostly acted like it didn't happen, so Steve played along, feigning ignorance. But it was hard to keep secrets from someone who slept in the next room.

Robin spoke up, "It doesn't matter how you got the power. What matters is, you have it! We have another weapon against Vecna. Slash Henry. Slash One. Can we please finally just pick a name?"

"One"

"Vecna"

"Henry."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Robin covered her eyes and shook her head.

Steve was surprised. She rarely swore.

"Have you tried…reading any minds?" Dustin asked Eddie eagerly.

Eddie dropped his head back onto the sofa, and Steve could tell he was tired. Or overwhelmed. Or both. "Guys, he's still not…at a hundred percent. Don't wear him out."

Eddie glanced at him, his expression both grateful and amused.

"We can ask El to try from where she is, right?" Lucas spoke up.

"Definitely," Nancy nodded.

Eddie took a deep breath. "I would be willing to try. To…see if I can…see things."

Just then, there was a loud knock followed by the sound of the front door opening. Hopper came through and stopped short when he found several teenagers staring at him.

"It's nice to know my cabin is now the neighborhood clubhouse," he grumbled.

"It's a safe house," Dustin defended weakly, "where we can discuss things…safely."

Hopper sighed, his expression impatient. "Harrington? A word?"

Surprised, Steve followed Hopper out onto the front porch.

The older man stated bluntly, "I'm following up on Munson's uncle. I want you to come with me."

"Why?" Steve asked. He barely knew Wayne Munson. Only saw him in passing a few times in town. One of those times, he was bailing Eddie out for something.

"Because you're Eddie's friend. Wayne's more likely to trust you than me. To believe you about everything that happened."

"Oh," Steve returned. He wasn't sure when he became the official go-between for Eddie and the world. But he supposed it was nice to be needed.

Kinda pathetic, huh Steve? He thought. You've gone from being king of the school to feeling grateful to be needed at all. He tried to shake off the perpetual self-loathing that seemed to cling to him constantly.

"Well, come on." Hopper started down the porch steps. "We've gotta drive to Rigdon."

After a quick word with the kids and a promise from Nancy that no one would leave the cabin without her, Steve followed Hopper to his truck.

It was about a twenty-minute drive to the neighboring town of Rigdon, about ten miles west of Hawkins. There wasn't much there. Mostly just a church and a post office. And a lot of farmland. But the campground around Hidden Lake was popular with the RV crowd. Following his cop instincts, Hopper headed straight for the office and general store at the entrance to the campground. Steve followed him inside. He immediately noticed one of Wayne's "missing person" posters for Eddie tacked to a cluttered bulletin board.

"Have you seen this man around?" Hopper produced his police badge and a grainy photo of Wayne. He slid the photo across the desk to the gray-haired woman behind the store counter.

Steve could only assume Hopper's new "FBI buddies" were the reason he had his badge back. He had not, however, returned to a specific role with the Hawkins police or donned his uniform again.

The woman smiled a surprisingly bright grin. "Ya mean Wayne? Course we've seen him. He's stayin' with Fred. Lot 136."

Hopper's brow furrowed, as though he expected this to be more difficult. Steve couldn't blame him. Everything they'd done for the past few years had been difficult. But Wayne wasn't a wanted man. There was no reason for him to hide.

"Thanks," Hopper snapped with a quick nod.

Steve followed him back out of the store to the truck. It took them a few minutes to find Lot 136 along the winding, gravel roads that snaked around Hidden Lake. When they pulled up in front of a nondescript, tan RV, Hopper cut the engine and sat for a moment in silence.

Steve asked, "Are we going in?"

Hopper nodded. "Yeah. I just…I've done a lot of next-of-kin notifications in my career. I've never done one like this."

"First time for everything?" Steve suggested.

Hopper chuckled. "Guess so. Come on, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Steve grumbled to himself as he slid out of the truck and followed Hopper to the door.

After a few loud raps on the door, a man who looked about sixty answered the door. His long, silver hair was tied in a ponytail and he inhaled deeply on the half-smoked cigarette in his hand.

"Fred?" Hopper asked.

"Yeah?"

Hopper flashed his badge. "Jim Hopper. Hawkins PD. Is Wayne Munson here?"

Fred looked suddenly cautious. "He's asleep. Works nights."

"I know," Hopper returned. "He's gonna want to wake up for this."

Fred opened the door wider to let them inside. The RV was sparsely furnished, but neat.

As he turned towards the short hallway, Fred said, "Wayne's been through enough shit with that town. He doesn't need no more."

After a minute or so and some muffled sounds, Wayne appeared from the back bedroom. He looked more than tired. He looked utterly beat down by the world. When he looked up and saw Hopper, he startled.

"Ho-ly shit." He paused. "Sorry, Chief. I heard you were back, but…it's still a shock."

Steve could tell Hopper was uncomfortable with all the attention coming back from the dead brought.

"I know. There was a funeral and everything," Hopper grumbled. "I'm afraid I have some even more…shocking news. Can we sit down and talk? Alone?"

Fred indicated the sofa and small dining area. With a few choice words muttered under his breath, he left the RV with a bang from the door.

When they were all seated, Hopper took a breath. "Wayne…I don't know how else to say this…but…Eddie's alive."

Wayne was very still. He clasped his hands in front of himself and nodded almost imperceptibly. Steve noticed that his eyes filled with restrained tears. After a minute, he took a deep breath and looked out the windows.

"I knew it," he finally said. "I knew that boy wouldn't go down that easy."

"It wasn't easy," Steve said reflexively.

"Were you with him and the curly-haired boy?" Wayne turned his eyes on Steve. "During…all of it?"

Steve's stomach churned as the memories were forced to the surface again. "For most of it." He answered softly.

"Not sure if you know Steve Harrington?" Hopper asked. "He and my daughter, Joyce's kids, and some others…they were in the middle of all this shit. I thought he could explain it to you better than me."

Wayne turned to Steve, his eyes pained but hopeful. Steve took a deep breath.

For the next hour, he explained to Wayne as best he could what happened in Hawkins. He couldn't tell him everything. Too much had happened. But he shared enough. Steve ended the story with an explanation of finding Eddie in the woods five weeks ago, and how Joyce and Hopper, along with Tom, had brought Eddie back from the brink. He left out the part about Eddie's newfound power. That seemed like too much for one morning.

When Steve finished, the RV was silent.

Wayne stood up, walked to one of the large windows and pushed it open. He lit a cigarette and took several long drags before he spoke to Hopper, "You saw all this, too?"

Hopper nodded. "Some of it. I know it's a lot to process."

"Eddie doesn't remember all of it," Steve added. "When he first woke up, all he remembered was Chrissy…being attacked. But it's coming back to him. Slowly."

Wayne looked thoughtful. "You know, Eddie's been through hell. And I'm not talking about just these past couple months." He cut Hopper a knowing look.

Hopper nodded, and Steve was now certain there was a lot they weren't saying. For the thousandth time, Steve wondered about Eddie's parents, his life before middle school and Hawkins, and his home in his Uncle Wayne's trailer.

Wayne went on, "Eddie's not cut out for shit like this. He's kind and loyal and too sweet for his own damn good. I told that girl reporter. Eddie might look dangerous. Different from the others. But he's got more good in him than almost anyone in that town."

Steve could feel the emotion coming off of Wayne. Whatever their history, it was obvious he cared about Eddie. Deeply.

They've been through some shit together. That's what bonds people like that. The thought hit Steve, and it made him even more curious. But he said nothing.

"Unfortunately, Hawkins isn't getting any better in that way," Hopper stated. "After the…earthquake, it seems the rational residents got out as fast as they could. Most of those who stayed…aren't so reasonable."

"They think someone opened a 'portal to hell.' Specifically, they think Eddie did." Wayne spat, clutching his half-smoked cigarette. "I still see the news. I drive through there. I see their signs."

"Signs?" Steve asked.

Hopper rubbed his temples. "Folks have started putting up signs on their property. Things like 'Hawkins Rejects Satan' and 'We Support Heaven, Not Hellfire.' There have also been a couple of pretty nasty meetings in front of town hall."

Wayne nodded. "That ain't the worst of it. I've heard some of them are asking folks to shoot my boy on sight if they see him."

Steve felt a swift stab in his gut. In the isolation of the cabin, they were clearly insulated from the worst of what was happening. He suddenly understood better why Hopper was so worried about the kids giving away the location of the cabin. There was a growing contingent willing to shoot first and explain later.

After another heavy silence, Wayne stubbed out the cigarette and asked, "Can I see my nephew?"

A few hours later, Steve sat with Eddie in the cabin again. The kids were back at the Wheelers or their own homes. Lucas left a note for Steve to call him later. Now, Hopper was waiting for Wayne just off the main road, about two miles away. Wayne agreed to stop by, after a few hours sleep, on his way to work at the GM plant in Roanoke. It was an hour drive each way, and Steve's respect for Wayne Munson grew even more when he realized just how hard he worked to keep a roof over Eddie's head.

Suddenly, there was a cursory knock, and Hopper came through the cabin door. Wayne ducked in behind him, and both Steve and Eddie leapt to their feet. Hopper closed the door, and no one spoke for a heavy few moments.

Wayne stared at Eddie, clearly very affected.

"Uncle Wayne," Eddie finally said, his hands knotted together.

Wayne broke down. His shoulders dropped and then shook as he finally let loose the tears. Eddie crossed the space and wrapped his uncle in a fierce hug. They stayed that way for a long time, a mess of tears and limbs.

As Steve watched them, he felt an ache in his chest. He remembered watching Robin and Vickie finally unite over sandwich-making in the days after the battle. Seeing Mike and El reunite, Jonathan and Nancy run into each other's arms, and Lucas keeping constant vigil over Max. Even Joyce and Hopper were now inseparable. And Steve was the observer. The handy idiot with a baseball bat when needed, but otherwise, the spare. The eternal third wheel. He kept Eddie company for a while, but now he had his uncle again. And Steve was back to watching.

After quite some time, Wayne pulled back and wiped the tears from his face. Eddie did the same.

"Your friend," Wayne glanced at Steve, "told me what happened. And…I'm proud of you, boy."

Eddie sniffled. "I got tired of running, I guess."

Wayne clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "You're a sweet kid. You don't deserve any of this shit." He gestured toward the town in general.

"Haven't you heard?" Eddie laughed dryly. "I'm a vessel for Satan."

"You are no such thing!" Wayne fired back. "And we're gonna prove it!"

Wayne looked around, and both Steve and Hopper nodded. Neither was willing to argue with him today.

Reaching into his pocket, Wayne carefully pulled out a chain. From it hung Eddie's guitar pick. Steve recognized it. He remembered Dustin screaming that he had to take it with him when they pulled him off of Eddie's body as they fled the Upside Down. Steve shivered at the memory.

Wayne held out the chain to Eddie. "This is yours. I'm sorry everything else was destroyed with the trailer."

Eddie carefully took the chain. He tipped his head to the side and said, "Turns out I can thank the Hawkins PD for confiscating my important stuff. And Chief over there for relocating it back to me."

Wayne glanced at Hopper, then nodded.

"And you can thank Jonathan Byers and my new buddy Steve over there for my preppy-slash-flannel-based new wardrobe." Eddie flashed his thousand-watt smile.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"With the trailer gone," Wayne added, "I'm sorry I don't have a home for you right now."

Hopper stated, "Right now, it's better if Eddie stays here. Out of sight."

Wayne stayed for a bit, never taking his eyes off Eddie while they talked. As they caught up, Steve watched them. It was obvious that there had been more love in the aging Munson trailer than there ever was in the Harrington household. More and more, Steve was seeing the truth. He had what every kid thought they wanted–a nuclear family, minus a sibling or two. A nice house with a pool. A hefty allowance. Beautiful parents who looked away when he threw parties. Yet here he was, wishing he'd grown up with Wayne Munson in a shitty trailer. Or with Claudia Henderson or Robin's mom. King Steve thought he had it all, but Just Steve was realizing more and more how empty his life was.

Later that night, when Hopper and Wayne were both gone, he and Eddie sat in the living room by the light of one lamp. Eddie was strumming the acoustic guitar, trying to get a better feel for an instrument he wasn't used to. He used the pick Wayne gave him that morning.

Steve stared at him. Eddie held the guitar against his chest carefully, like he was still figuring out how it fit. His long fingers picked notes and chords, testing them with his keen ears. His hair hung in loose, russet waves. It was shinier, richer now than before. And his face was starting to fill out again, to lose the pallor.

Steve could honestly say he'd never stared at a guy as much as he stared at Eddie. He justified it because Eddie was different. Every other friend Steve ever had looked like they stepped out of the latest JC Penney catalog. Or some sort of Sports store ad.

It's not weird to stare at something you've never seen. Something that fascinates you. He told himself.

So Steve stared. And Eddie played. His nimble hands drew every sound possible from the guitar, from thin, single notes to full, heavy chords. He knew exactly how to pull what he wanted from the instrument. How to make it mew and groan.

And then Steve felt that thing again. That flutter. That knife in his gut. That pull toward the boy playing the guitar.

He shook his head hard.

To break the tension, Steve blurted out, "How long have you lived with Wayne?"

Eddie looked up, surprised. His hands stilled and he considered the question. Finally, he said, "Since I was twelve. He's my dad's brother. Wayne bailed me out of a foster home when I was in seventh grade. He lived up in Detroit for a while, working for another automotive plant. He came back here for me." Eddie paused, obviously affected. "My old man was quite a piece of work."

"Was it bad? The foster home?" Steve asked carefully.

Eddie heaved a sigh. "It was not the Brady Bunch, that's for damn sure."

"You don't…have to talk about it."

Eddie stared past Steve for a moment, his eyes stormy. "It was pretty much what you'd expect. Too many kids. Not enough beds. Or food. Plenty of head lice, though." Eddie ran his hand through his wild curls. "They shaved all our heads. Kept it that way the whole year I was there."

"You were in foster care for a year?"

"Try five years. Nine different homes."

"Nine?"

"No one wants adolescent boys. Especially not 'troubled' ones." Eddie said the word 'troubled' with a weighty emphasis.

Steve wanted to ask more, but Eddie started strumming the guitar again. "After I moved in with Wayne, I started a band, grew out my hair, and never looked back. First guitar I had was a piece of shit I stole from a pawn shop." He set the acoustic instrument down and picked up his black and red Warlock. It was now perpetually hooked up to Hopper's old amp. "Wayne bought me this baby when I turned fifteen."

Eddie strummed the guitar, relishing the sharper sound coming through the amp. Steve watched him again, amazed at how he could switch instruments so easily, how Eddie knew exactly how to make each one sound uniquely beautiful. For several minutes, they both sat with just the sound of Eddie's guitar.

After a few minutes of just music, Eddie softly sang:

Things not what they used to be
Missing one inside of me
Deathly loss, this can't be real
I cannot stand this hell I feel
Emptiness is filling me
To the point of agony
Growing darkness, taking dawn
I was me, but now he's gone

"Wow," Steve mused. "That's dark."

"Sometimes, life is dark. Music is a way to see through that darkness." Eddie strummed a different melody:

I still remember how it used to be
I thought the only thing
That mattered was me
You always told me it was just insane
To feel such joy
While others feel pain
There's no way to change this angry heart
Cause when love goes
It will tear you apart

Eddie kept playing after the words finished. Steve wasn't sure what artists or albums Eddie was pulling from, but it didn't matter. When the music flowed through Eddie, it became infused with something more. Some greater meaning Steve couldn't interpret with his mind but could feel with his heart.

"How do you do that?" The question was out before Steve could stop himself.

Eddie looked up. "Do what?"

"Play…like that? Make the guitar sound so…different. On different songs, parts?" Steve shook his head. "My mother made me play the piano in middle school, and I couldn't even make it make normal sounds."

Eddie laughed, throwing his head back. "I can't tell you, Harrington."

Steve felt deflated.

"But maybe I can show you."

Eddie stood up from the sofa and gestured for Steve to take his place. Carefully, he lifted the guitar and placed the strap around Steve. Steve awkwardly clutched the neck and draped his right arm over the body. Eddie perched on the arm of the sofa.

"Playing the guitar, or any instrument really, is like sex."

Steve snorted. "What?"

"Yep. I said it, King Steve. It's like sex. Don't play innocent with me."

Steve fumbled for words, "But…how do you…I mean if you've never…?"

Eddie cocked his head and smirked. "There's more to sex than penises and vaginas. So much more."

Steve felt his face burning. Part of him wanted to run out the front door and be anywhere else. Another part of him wanted to lean in. All the way in.

Eddie broke the silence with laughter. "No need to freak out, Harrington. It's a metaphor. It's all about putting your hands in the right place. Feeling your way. Knowing how to use your fingers. Knowing where and how to touch. How to make your instrument do what you want. Sound the way you want."

Steve's breath caught in his throat.

"You can't just grope your way blindly," Eddie went on. "Here. I'll show you."

Eddie slid behind Steve, perching on his knees and reaching around to place Steve's hands correctly on the neck and the body of the guitar. "When you first start, it's awkward."

Steve's gut churned again.

"Each string," Eddie explained, "creates one note. Each fret changes the note by a half step."

Eddie carefully plucked each string, naming the notes as the sounds softly resonated.

"This," he gently arranged Steve's fingers on the frets and strummed, "is a G chord. And this…is E. You can pluck individual notes or…add more fingers…and play the whole chord. It's delicate."

Eddie was so close, Steve could feel his breath on his neck. It twisted Steve's stomach into more knots, and his skin bristled from the heat.

"The first time you were with someone, you were probably pretty clumsy. But if you care about more than making noise," Eddie helped Steve play another chord, "you learn how to play music."

Eddie played a hard G5 that resonated through the instrument and into Steve's chest. He wasn't just hearing the music, he was feeling it. It was a complex give and take. A heady rush.

Like sex.

Steve continued to follow Eddie's lead, pulling sounds from the instrument he could never make alone. And Eddie was still so close his hair brushed Steve's shoulder. His arms were strong, his hands graceful. The only time Steve had ever been this close to a guy was during contact sports. There, it never phased him. Never gave him a less-than-straight thought. Now, there was a warmth in his gut, a delicious burn he knew all too well.

Fuck .

He was hard. All this talk about sex was messing with his head. And his cock, apparently. Steve felt like an adolescent again, unable to control his arousal at the mere mention of sex. As quickly as possible, he pulled the guitar over his head and slid away from Eddie.

"Thanks for…trying to teach me," Steve threw out as he headed for the bathroom.

Once inside, he turned on the cold water, stripped off his clothes, and stood underneath it, trying to calm his racing pulse.

What the actual fuck just happened?

He had no answer.

I would really love to hear your thoughts on this so far. I'm enjoying it, but I really can't tell if anyone else really is.

The two songs used in this one are "Fade to Black," Metallica; "Angry Heart," Black Sabbath