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.
Steve woke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath, for a moment completely disorientated. It took a moment for him to remember where he was, why he was curled up in his parents' room instead of in his own bed. He peered blearily at his watch, and then sat bolt upright as he realised it was 11am. He'd somehow managed to sleep for the longest he'd managed in what felt like a week.
He scrambled up, scrubbing at his face with both hands as he headed down the corridor. He arrived back at his own room and let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. He didn't know why he had been worried – it wasn't like Eddie was about to get up and walk off – but all the same he felt a wave of relief when he saw him still there. Not only still there, but propped up on a few pillows and cradling a bowl of soup in his lap, upright and awake for the first time Steve could remember since the Upside Down. Eddie's dark brown eyes lifted and fixed on him at once, and Steve felt something in his stomach flip pleasantly as a smile tugged at the other boy's lips. He was so caught up in seeing Eddie awake that he didn't even realise he wasn't alone.
"Steve!" Dustin smiled widely, spinning back and forth in the desk chair. "You're alive! Nice of you to join us."
"Dustin?" Steve rubbed at his eyes, still trying to blink himself awake. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, well, nice to see you too," Dustin replied, affronted. "You guys have been ignoring me for the past two days, what do you think I'm doing here? You know I was worried sick about you?"
"Ignoring – don't be so dramatic," Steve muttered, perching on the edge of his desk, his arms folded tightly. "It's not like I've had much time on my hands."
"Yeah, Henderson, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were jealous," Eddie said, smirking.
Dustin bristled at that, rolling his eyes, and Steve took the opportunity to look closer at Eddie. The other boy's voice was slightly rough, a little weak despite his jovial tone. His face still looked a flushed but he was no longer drenched in sweat, and the bowl of ice water was gone from the bedside table. He was leaning against the pillows at a slightly awkward angle, clearly trying not to put too much pressure on the worst of his injuries, and the bowl of soup in his lap was only half-empty. The spoon twirled lethargically between the fingertips of one hand – apparently it wasn't of much interest. Steve realised that Eddie's gaze was still trained on him and cleared his throat, nodding awkwardly.
"You're eating. That's good."
"I'm tasting," Eddie retorted. "That Joyce lady is very kind. But I'm not exactly…"
He lifted the spoon and let a dribble of soup fall back into the bowl with a grimace.
"… hungry," he finished.
"How're you feeling?"
Eddie's smirk widened, and his eyes glinted mischievously. "Like I've been risen from the dead. Like a ghoul dragged out of hell."
Steve frowned, uncertain of exactly what that meant. The look on Eddie's face suggested that the other boy was rather enjoying provoking him, and Steve got the distinct feeling that he wasn't going to get any straight answers. A hundred other questions trembled on the tip of his tongue, but he tried to gather himself and looked instead at Dustin.
"Sorry, man. I should've called you – it's just…"
Dustin's face softened at once. "Hey, I know, it's okay. I'm just glad the others are back in Hawkins – all this stuff with the Upside Down feels less scary with Eleven here."
"Ah, yeah, the girl with the superpowers," Eddie mused, cocking his head. "So, what, are we planning another expedition to Mordor so she can zap Sauron once and for all?"
"No. Absolutely not."
Eddie's eyebrow arched, and Steve stopped talking quickly, aware that his words had come out rather aggressively. Eddie's tone had been light, playful, and yet even the thought of returning to the Upside Down set off a knee-jerk reaction of fear spreading under Steve's skin. He swallowed hard and tried to move the conversation on, looking again at Dustin.
"How's your leg?"
Dustin stuck it out experimentally, scowling. "Annoying. I'm just really slow now. And stairs are the worst."
"What about the others? Eleven, Mike, Max? How are they?"
Steve settled back against the desk, pretending to ignore the heat of Eddie's eyes on him, like twin lasers burning into his skin. He tried to listen to Dustin as the younger boy took them through the news of all that had happened in the last few days – of Eleven, Mike and Will's journey through the desert, of their 'piggyback' in the pizza kitchen, of the long journey back. He had to admit that Dustin was right – having Eleven back on home turf certainly was comforting, even if they didn't seem to have a plan for now. Dustin was only just starting to explain about the state that Hawkins was in when the door to Steve's bedroom creaked, and he glanced up to see Robin's familiar face peering into the room. Her eyes lit up at the sight of them and she bounded in, reaching out to pull Steve into a hug.
"You're all here! And... when did you last shower?"
Steve wriggled out of her grip, scowling. "Recently! I think…"
Robin shot him a smirk and crossed the room. "And you're alive! Congratulations."
"Just about," Eddie smiled.
Steve watched him. Perhaps he was imagining it, but he was sure there was something different about the way Eddie looked at him. Sure, Eddie was always joking around in some way, but there was something different in his tone, in the intensity of his gaze… Something that Steve wasn't sure what to do with.
"Joyce said to tell you to take your meds, if you haven't already," Robin was saying. "Have you?"
"Nope, he hasn't" Dustin said, looking around. "Where are they?"
"They're here."
Steve crossed the room in a few quick strides, picking up the paper bag on the bedside table. He felt Eddie's gaze on him again as he shook the boxes out and picked out the right number of pills, setting them down one by one on the bedside table.
"Two pills twice a day for the antibiotics. Painkillers are two every four to six hours."
He reached for the bowl of soup and held out the glass of water on the bedside table instead, finally looking up. Eddie was looking at him, his lips parted, his tongue skating slowly over his bottom lip. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly. He reached out, taking the glass of water, and took the first two pills.
"Why, thank you, nurse Harrington."
Steve felt heat creeping up his neck. He rolled his eyes, trying to appear unflustered as the two pills disappeared into Eddie's mouth. The other boy wasn't looking away, even as he took a sip of water, and Steve found himself vividly remembering the last time he had been there when Eddie had taken them. He'd been sitting in that very bed, Eddie held against his chest, their fingers interlinked, Eddie's hair tickling his neck… Steve turned away, trying to shake off the memory. He shot a glare at Robin, who was looking at him with a slightly bemused look on her face.
"Well, I guess I'm due a shower. Make sure he has some more of that soup."
"Sir, yes, Sir," Robin said with a laugh. "Right away, sir."
Steve was already heading out of the room, feeling Eddie's eyes on him every step of the way. The sound of their voices followed him all the way down the corridor.
It was strange having so many people around. Steve had grown used to long hours spent in the chair beside Eddie's bed, the sole bearer of the responsibility of checking on him, of keeping watch. But that day was different – busy, even. Dustin and Robin stayed to entertain Eddie for most of the day, who watched them through tired eyes, smiling in response to their chatter. And Joyce was there, pulling Steve away, asking him questions as she cleared any evidence of Eddie's presence from the house – barrelling used sheets into laundry bags, stuffing old bandages into the bin, setting the house in order. Steve barely had time to look Eddie in the eye, and he wasn't alone with the other boy again until late into the night, long after Dustin and Robin had left, and Joyce had sent him off to bed, assuring him that Eddie wasn't in any immediate danger and didn't need monitoring so closely anymore. He had gone without much argument, knowing that she wouldn't be convinced, and promising to be ready to leave early in the morning with Hopper for the trailer by the lake. And yet, once he had climbed into his parents bed and lay there for a few hours, sleep refused to join him. His skin itched with uncertainty, with an anxiety he couldn't shake. And so, he got up and headed down the corridor to take up his position at Eddie's side once again.
When he finally did drift off, Steve dreamed of the first time he had met Eddie Munson. He dreamed that Eddie was holding him against the wall in the boathouse, a broken bottle ready in his hand, that burning intensity flooding his gaze. Except, this time, when Eddie lowered the bottle, he didn't let go. He leaned closer, his lips inches away, his eyes dark. Steve found himself lifting his hands, letting his fingers frame Eddie's neck and wander through his hair, pulling him closer. Eddie's lips twitched into a smile and he closed the gap between them. The heat of his mouth connected with something primal at Steve's core and he let out a low moan, pressing into him, feeling Eddie's hands clench in his shirt…
A sudden, real hand came down on his shoulder and he flinched awake, almost shooting out of his chair. Joyce was barely inches away from him, her hands lifted as if he had pointed a gun at her, her eyebrows raised.
"Whoa, Steve, calm down, it's alright!"
His gaze shot around the room, taking in the dim light of dawn creeping through the window, and he let out a shuddering sigh. The memory of the dream was so fresh, so close that he could almost still feel heat on his lips. He rubbed both hands over his face, trying to shake it off.
"You okay? Bad dream or something?"
"No, no, I–" he broke off, entirely unsure of how he was supposed to explain himself, and then just shook his head. "I'm fine. Sorry."
Joyce was still looking at him quizzically, and he rose to his feet in the hope of taking back some control of the situation. She seemed to let it go, glancing down at Eddie, who was still asleep.
"Ready to leave? Hopper says you've got 15 minutes."
Steve nodded. A glance at his watch told him it was already 4:45am, and he swore under his breath for sleeping in.
"How about 20?"
Joyce smiled, already heading for the door. "I'll try him. Hurry up, though, he's keen to get moving before it gets too light out."
Steve was already hurrying over to his closet. He retrieved a large backpack and threw as many clothes as he could reach into it, along with his toothbrush and hair spray. He was in such a rush that he almost forgot that he needed clothes for Eddie too – hoping they were the same size, he rooted out a dark pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. Not quite as exciting as Eddie's usual style, but it would do. Finally, he headed back to the bed and leaned down, shaking Eddie's shoulder gently.
"Eddie? Hey, time to wake up. We're going."
Eddie's eyes squeezed shut, his head rolling to the side on the pillow.
"Urgh, mom, I don't wanna go to school…"
Steve raised his eyebrows, wondering if the fever had somehow returned and he was delirious, but then Eddie was peering up at him through heavily lidded eyes, smirking slightly, and he realised the other boy was joking. He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, well, time to go," he said. He gestured to the pile of clothes on the chair. "Need a hand getting dressed?"
Eddie peered at the clothes, seemingly bewildered, and then grinned widely.
"No. Although I do appreciate you giving me your most metal clothes."
"Alright, alright," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "You sure you don't need help?"
Eddie shifted as if to sit up and winced sharply. He held out a hand and Steve took it instantly, putting his other hand on Eddie's shoulder, carefully pulling him upright. Eddie moved slowly, holding his breath, until he was finally sitting with his legs over the side of the bed. Steve picked up the pile of clothes, but before he could even offer them Eddie had reached for the painkillers on the nightstand, his hands slightly shaky. He popped a few out and gulped them down with some water, closing his eyes, letting out a slow, heavy breath. Steve raised his eyebrow as he set the glass down again.
"What, no antibiotics?"
Eddie glanced up at him, smirking. "Okay, okay. Square."
Steve waited until he had swallowed those down too, and then held out the clothes again, eyeing them pointedly. Eddie took them, examining them carefully, an almost bemused look on his face.
"Hopper's waiting downstairs," Steve said, more as an excuse to fill the silence than anything else. "I've packed you some of my clothes. Maybe we can get some from your uncle at some point. What shoe size are you?"
It was somewhat of a surprise to find they were the same. Steve rooted around in his cupboard until he came up with a pair of trainers - he'd been given them for Christmas a few months before, a misguided but kind present from an aunt, and hadn't worn them even a day. He retrieved some socks and turned back to face Eddie, holding them out. The other boy had somehow wriggled into the jeans and was rising out of the bed, pulling them up to his hips. He managed it, but sank back down as soon as he could, his eyes closed tightly, and Steve hurried back over.
"You okay? Take it slow…"
Eddie nodded. He was taking slow, careful breaths that hitched slightly on the way in, but he opened his eyes again and reached for the t-shirt. He got his arms through it but faltered when it was time to lift it over his head - Steve reached out at once, pulling the material up and over, smoothing it down flat. Eddie heaved a sigh, and then caught sight of the shoes.
"Fuck, we're not even done yet?"
Steve offered him a tentative smile. "Hope you like Reebok."
He shifted off the bed and crouched down, not giving Eddie the chance to refuse this time. He rolled the socks up and held them out one at a time, helping Eddie to slip into them, and then followed with the shoes. He retrieved a black hoodie from his cupboard and faltered when Eddie reached out to take it, his gaze making the firm point that he could manage at least that himself. Steve glanced at his watch when they were finally done, well aware that they were taking much longer than the agreed 15 minutes. But Eddie was dressed and ready - the only thing left to do was get him down the stairs. He shoved the first aid kit and meds into his backpack and pulled it on.
"Okay," he said, turning to face Eddie. "How do you want to do this? You want help?"
He held out his hands, and Eddie eyed his upturned palms warily. Steve couldn't blame him - he hadn't seen the other boy take a step on his own for days. He considered calling Hopper for help, but then Eddie shifted forward, reaching out to grip Steve's forearms. He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, and then leaned forward. Steve did his best to lift at a slow pace, trying to be guided by Eddie, but by the time the other boy had straightened up his face was already lined with pain. Steve wrapped an arm around his side, pulling one of Eddie's arms over his shoulders.
"Okay, ready?"
Eddie looked anything but ready. Whatever colour that had been in his face had drained away, his eyes watering slightly. But still, he fixed his eyes on the door across the room and gave a short, firm nod. And so, holding onto him, Steve tentatively moved forwards, one step at a time.
It was a testament to Eddie that they made it as far as they did - they were halfway down the corridor before the other body stopped abruptly, shaking his head. Steve had felt him growing steadily shakier, had heard his breathing growing tight, and had been ready to stop. He came to a sharp halt, and then, as Eddie's legs buckled, carefully guided them down to a crouched position in the hallway. Eddie was still shaking his head, trying to catch his breath.
"Nope. Not gonna happen. Not gonna happen."
"Okay, no problem. That's fine."
Steve hated the look of defeat on Eddie's face. He knew the other boy saw this as a failure, as weakness, but Steve couldn't let him. It was unfair to ask anyone in Eddie's condition to try and get up and walk around. Steve glanced down the corridor, contemplating calling for help, but thought better of it.
"How about I just carry you the rest of the way?"
"Carry me?" Eddie squinted at him, incredulous. "Oh sure, you're gonna carry me. What's your trademark style? Fireman? Bridal?"
Steve scowled. "I can carry you. I did it before. Twice, actually."
Eddie sniggered, and Steve bristled.
"What, you think I can't carry you?"
"No, no, please, let's see it. I can't wait. Living the dream"
Steve rolled his eyes. He shifted closer, making sure Eddie's arm was securely around his shoulders before putting the other under his knees. The action felt almost familiar now, only this time Eddie was watching him through narrowed eyes, a smile playing over his lips. Steve tried to ignore it, looking at him pointedly.
"Ready?"
Eddie offered a brief nod, and Steve braced himself and rose to his feet. Without the rush of adrenaline that came from escaping the Upside Down or sneaking out of a hospital, the motion was noticeably more difficult. Still, he did his best to keep a stable grip on Eddie, took a deep breath, and headed on towards the stairs. Eddie had closed his eyes, one hand lifting to rest against Steve's chest, his face still wincing as they moved. Steve glanced down at him, feeling a flicker of concern as they reached the top of the stairs.
"Does it hurt?"
Eddie huffed out a short laugh. "It's okay, Steve."
Steve froze, his breath catching in his throat. He fixed Eddie with a stern glare, unable to just play along with this one.
"Don't… Don't say that."
Eddie opened his eyes, frowning in confusion. "What?"
"Just…" Steve struggled to find the words, trying to fight down the sudden wave of emotion that had unexpectedly crashed down on him. "That's what you kept saying, when we found you. In the Upside Down. You kept saying 'it's okay Steve', like I was just going to sit there and watch while… It's not 'okay.' Okay?"
Eddie watched him through heavily lidded eyes, blinking slowly. Steve wondered if the painkillers had start to set in, if Eddie perhaps wasn't even following what he was saying, but then the other boy offered a small, cautious smile.
"Okay."
Steve nodded, feeling somewhat foolish for letting it get to him so much in the first place, and began their descent on the stairs. By the time they made it to the hallway his arms were straining slightly and the back of his neck prickling with sweat, but the front door was open and ready for them. Eddie reached suddenly for the hood of his jersey, pulling it up over his head, and Steve slowed for him to pull it fully into place before they stepped out into the open air. Hopper and Joyce were loading up the car with food, water, blankets, pillows – anything that could be considered a necessity. Hopper looked up as they approached and gestured toward the car, where the back doors were open and ready.
"Come on, we should get in the car quickly. Just in case anyone's up."
Steve looked around – the houses around them were dark and quiet. But still, Hopper had a good point. They needed a quick getaway. He headed for the car and carefully deposited Eddie down on the leather seats. He stayed close as Eddie unhooked his arms from around his neck, wincing slightly.
"Alright? Comfy?"
Eddie looked up at him, smirking. "Yeah. Like I said – living the dream."
"You took your time." Hopper slammed the boot of the car shut as Steve looked up. "Ready to go?"
Steve nodded, and slipped into the car next to Eddie, glancing furtively out of the window at the other houses on the street.
The drive to the trailer by the lake wasn't long, but it was tense and quiet. Steve kept his eyes trained on the world outside the car, tensing every time they passed a police car – there was a distinctly greater police presence on the streets after the earthquake. Eddie remained sunk low in his seat, the hoodie pulled up as far as it would go to mask his face, his arms wrapped protectively around his middle. He didn't make any noise, but Steve could feel his body tense in response to the bumps of the car on the potholed tarmac of the road. He willed the journey to go faster.
When they reached the trailer, the soft light of dawn was creeping higher into the sky. Hopper let out an audible sigh of relief as he shut off the car engine and climbed out, rooting in his pocket for the keys, Joyce following behind. Steve pushed open the car door and swung one leg out, taking in their new surroundings. The air still held that stillness of the night, although now it was occasionally pierced by the sound of birdsong, by the gentle lapping of the lake against the bank. Steve revelled in it for a moment, enjoying the quiet, and then looked back over his shoulder at Eddie.
"Ready?"
Eddie was pulling himself upright, his mouth set in a firm line. He still looked pale and shaky, but he fixed Steve with a resolute stare all the same.
"I can walk."
Steve hesitated, but he knew that carrying Eddie into the trailer would be more suspicious to anyone who did happen to be watching. He relented.
"Okay. I'll come over to your side."
He climbed out of the car and made his way around to the other side, glancing up to see that Hopper had opened the trailer up and was heading back to retrieve their belongings from the boot. Joyce had disappeared inside, no doubt already busying herself with getting the place ready. It had been some time since anyone had actually lived there. Steve pulled open the passenger door of the car and put out his hand. Eddie eyed the offered limb, clearly dreading the few short steps across the driveway.
"Come on, Dungeon Master," Steve prodded, putting on a playful smirk. "Last bit of the quest."
Eddie rolled his eyes but it seemed to work – he reached for Steve's hand and sucked in a tight breath as he rose to his feet. Steve instantly ducked his head beneath Eddie's arm, taking some of the weight off, his other arm snaking around the other boy's waist. He could see that Eddie was already paling rapidly, his breathing hitching, but he tugged them gently towards the trailer. Keeping up a low monologue as he went.
"And so, the brave knights pushed on, through the moors of… of whatever, and up the dark mountains of chaos…"
Eddie huffed out a tight, stiff laugh. "Jesus Christ, you're terrible at this… have… have you ever even… played?"
They reached the steps leading up to the front door, and Steve nudged Eddie towards them until he reached for the railing with his free hand. The stairs were a new challenge, and Steve wasn't looking forward to them. Neither was Eddie, from the way he gripped the wooden banister.
"No need when you're fighting off monsters in real life," Steve retorted, keeping his tone playful. "Come on, now, mountains of chaos aren't going to climb themselves."
Another breathless snigger, but it worked. Eddie shut his eyes and lifted his leg. Steve adjusted his grip on Eddie's arm and waist, lifting as carefully as he dared, trying to take the pressure off the other boy as much as he could. Still, the four or five steps up onto the trailer porch felt like a lifetime, and by the time they had reached the front door Eddie was shaking, his breathing tight, his skin hot against Steve's. Shouldering as much of his weight as he dared without hurting him, Steve manoeuvred them through the door to the trailer and into the tiny living room beyond. His eyes lit at once on a sofa and he made a beeline for it, finally able to deposit Eddie's trembling frame onto the cushions. The other boy curled over himself at once, letting out a low groan, his arm wrapped around his stomach, and Steve felt a thrill of panic. He dropped to his knees, trying to catch Eddie's eye, reaching for his shoulders carefully.
"Eddie? Hey, level completed. We're in. You okay?"
The long mass of curly hair was hiding Eddie from view, but Steve could hear him trying to steady his breathing. Abruptly, the other boy began to straighten and Steve finally caught a glimpse of him, of the pain lining his face and of his tightly closed eyes. Eddie leaned back against the sofa gingerly, sweat standing out on his forehead, his lips parted as he took slow, shuddering breaths. Steve tried again, putting an uncertain hand on his knee.
"Sorry, I know that sucked. Can I get you anything?"
Eddie's lips quirked slightly. "How about a beer and a cigarette?"
It was Steve's turn to laugh, and he let himself relax slightly. "How about some water?"
Eddie's shoulder jerked in an uninterested shrug, and Steve took that as his cue to head over to the kitchenette which took up one corner of the room. It was small, that was for sure – only a few cupboards, a tiny cooker, a fridge sitting beside the counter and a sink which still had dishes stacked beside it from who knew when. Steve peeked into one of the cupboards – nothing but a few dusty cans of food and a half-eaten bag of crisps. He found a glass and washed it out before filling it up and returning to place it on the coffee table in front of Eddie. Looking around, it was clear the rest of the room was fairly sparse – an old TV sat in one corner beside a standing lamp, and then a door leading off either side.
"It's not much, but it should do the job."
Steve startled as Hopper appeared in the doorway, bags in hand. He tossed them to the floor along with the other bits and pieces he had already brought in and shut the door behind him, locking it. He checked the windows facing the driveway, making sure that the curtains were pulled shut across them.
"Best to keep those closed," he said, turning to face them. "You don't want any prying eyes."
Steve nodded, making a mental note, and Hopper gestured to the living room with a wry smile.
"I see you've done half the tour already. Want me to show you the rest?"
Steve glanced back at Eddie, who was shaking his head, still slumped heavily on the couch. He nodded.
"Sure, I'll take a look."
Hopper took the hint and led Steve over to the first door off the kitchenette. The place was small enough to barely warrant a tour – the tiny corridor they entered had only two doors, one leading to a cramped bathroom and the other to a small bedroom, where Joyce was just finishing up changing the sheets on the bed. The bedroom had two windows, one on either side, and Steve made sure to pull the curtains closed on the side facing the driveway, plunging the room into half-light. Joyce offered him a sympathetic smile as she pulled the sheets straight and turned her attention to the wardrobe.
"There should be enough space for your things in here," she said. "But there are some of Hopper's old shirts – I thought maybe you'd need them. I'm not sure how much you brought."
"Not much," Steve admitted ruefully. "Thanks. And thanks again for… you know."
Hopper waved his words away and beckoned him back out into the corridor, pointing at the final door behind the TV as they entered the living room. Eddie hadn't moved from the sofa, but his eyes lifted open to glimmering slits, and Steve returned his gaze with what he hoped was a reassuring nod.
"Through there's the boiler – it's a little temperamental, so you might need to restart it now and then," Hopper noted. "But other than that, you're all set."
"We packed some food for you there, too," Joyce added, gesturing to the bags beside the door. "Some coffee, a few extra blankets – you know, just some bits to keep you going."
"Thank you," Eddie spoke up suddenly from the sofa, his voice low. "I mean… You guys barely know me. Thank you for… for all this."
"It's no trouble, kid," Hopper said. He looked at Steve. "Although, this is a short-term solution. What's your plan?"
Steve blinked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Plan?"
"Your parents are back tonight, correct?" Hopper pointed out. "So what sort of time are you here until? We can set you up with some food, Eddie, but it's probably better if you have some help for a few more days–"
"I'm not… I mean, I'm staying here," Steve broke in, frowning. "I can stay here."
"Don't you think your parents would want to see you, Steve?" Joyce put in gently. "I mean, with everything happening with the gates – the earthquake – they'll be worried."
"No, no, it's fine," Steve insisted. "I'll leave them a voicemail, I'll tell them I'm with some friends. They're just worried about the house and the car, honest. That is…"
He broke off, suddenly aware that Eddie was still watching them, and yet was very quiet. He looked over at the other boy, meeting his gaze, feeling again that intensity zero in on him. Eddie's face was hard to read. Steve floundered suddenly, realising that he may have jumped a few steps ahead here, and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"That is, if you're… comfortable? With me staying?"
Eddie's lips quirked. "Comfortable?"
"It's only a double bed, but there should be enough room for two," Joyce observed, glancing over towards the bedroom.
Steve felt something in him stiffen, felt his arms folding abruptly across his chest of their own accord. He shrugged jerkily.
"Wha – no, that's… I mean, the sofa is fine. Eddie can have the bed. It's fine."
Joyce and Hopper shared a quizzical look, and Steve's words hung there in the awkward pause. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks – god, what was wrong with him? – and glanced quickly at Eddie, who's expression had not changed, but seemed different somehow. Imperceptibly. But there was something less playful there, something a little harder, almost confused. Steve shook himself, looking again at Hopper and Joyce.
"It's fine," he repeated.
Joyce still raised an eyebrow, but let them move past the strangeness of Steve's reaction and looked instead at Eddie.
"Is that okay with you, Eddie? If Steve stays here for the next few days? I'd rather you had someone around to help you, at least until you're feeling better. After that we can think about what to do."
"By then the world might have ended anyway, considering those gates," Hopper muttered.
Eddie was silent for a few long moments, fixing Steve with a slow blink. Steve squirmed under his stare until, finally, Eddie raised and lowered one shoulder in an apathetic shrug.
"Harrington can do whatever he wants," he said quietly.
Steve couldn't read his tone, but there was something distinctly less jovial about it than usual. He scowled, turning his attention to the scuffed carpet beneath his feet, uncertain as to why he was feeling quite so uncomfortable. It was almost like he had said something offensive, something hurtful, and yet he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong. He had a sudden, irrational fear that Eddie somehow knew about the intensely vivid dream he'd had that morning, and felt the heat in his cheeks building. Hopper sighed beside him, putting his hands on his hips.
"Right, well… we should get back to the kids. If you need anything, Dustin made us pack a walkie for you – it's over there."
"Actually, there is something, Mr Hopper."
Eddie had spoke up again, and Steve glanced up quickly, half expecting the other boy to order Joyce and Hopper to take Steve with them. But no – Eddie's face had turned oddly vulnerable, and he was pulling himself upright, wincing slightly. He looked at Hopper and Joyce, as if gathering himself.
"I was wondering if… if it would be okay if… I don't know. I know we're supposed to be keeping a low profile, but if we could tell my Uncle…" he broke off, biting back his words. "It's just… if there was some way to check he's okay, and tell him that I'm safe, and that I didn't do it, and I'm sorry for… for everything he's had to deal with. I just want him to know that… that it wasn't me."
His voice was small and tight when he finished, his gaze carefully averted at the floor, and Steve couldn't help but feel like the world's biggest idiot. He hadn't even asked Eddie about his Uncle, hadn't even thought to check if he had escaped the earthquakes and the opening gates without harm. Hopper's face softened immeasurably, and he took a few steps closer to the couch, his hands pushing into his pockets.
"I reckon we can do one better than that, kid," he said gently. "Before your arrest was made public, your Uncle was down at the community hall all the time with missing posters, asking if anyone had seen you. And once they announced you were at the hospital, Lucas says he's been there every day, trying to get them to let him see you."
"They haven't told Hawkins that Eddie's escaped?" Steve asked.
"I think the police were hoping to sweep it under the rug for now, with all the commotion. But I was at the hospital yesterday with El, and I saw your Uncle myself, down at the main reception." Hopper offered a gentle smile. "I think he knows it wasn't you, kid."
Eddie nodded jerkily, and then blinked hard and wiped at his face. His eyes betrayed the trademark redness of tears, although his voice remained quiet and level when he spoke.
"Oh. That's…. That's great. Really."
Steve felt an overwhelming urge to get over there, to sit beside him on the sofa, to offer some kind of comfort, but something kept him where he was, rooted to the ground. He felt his own eyebrows pull together tightly and wet his lips, trying to keep his face steady. Hopper was speaking again, and Steve tried to listen to what he was saying.
"Look, kid, I get it – I know you want to see him. But do me a favour and just wait a few more days, just until you've got your strength back. I'd rather know you can make a run for it if you need to before we start telling anyone else where you're hiding out. Just in case."
Eddie nodded again, this time with more purpose. And so Hopper and Joyce headed out, Joyce fussing around the bags and pointing out a few things in particular – the leftover spaghetti, to go straight in the fridge, the extra blankets and which would be best for the bed or for the sofa, which bag the meds were in – and then, quite suddenly, the door was shutting behind them and they were gone. Steve locked the door again and slowly, still oddly self-conscious, turned to face Eddie. The other boy had leaned back against the sofa cushions again, one arm curled loosely over his stomach, his heavily-lidded eyes still fixed on Steve.
"You sure you want to hang out here with me, Harrington?" he said, his voice still quiet and soft. "I might bite."
"I'm not leaving you here alone," Steve snapped, his frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you. You're one of us now."
Eddie just looked at him, and Steve felt again that twinge in his stomach that made his mouth run dry. He turned away and fussed with the curtains, making sure they were fully closed, feeling Eddie's eyes on the back of his head the whole time. The tension in his shoulders and back didn't release until the other boy finally spoke again.
"Okay."
Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are always welcome.
SUPRNTRAL LVR