Hopper Is Trying To Enjoy His Anniversary Dinner With His Wife At Enzo’s, In Spite The Fact That Diane

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon…Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn’t quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism–and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from ‘giggly happy fun time’ to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn’t either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic–had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling “the 70s basics”) and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn’t exactly been forthcoming–Eddie’s gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; “Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson.” 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn’t exactly the best idea. 

“I regret,” Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. “I regret–hrk–" 

"Me too.” Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

“Let’s go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing.” Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

“Wouldn’t have mattered.” Steve muttered. “Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?” Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

“So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I’d be down there anyway.” Steve concluded. “We shouldn’t have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit.” He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve’s chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

“Come on big boy, why don’t we just siiiit back down.” Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. “There we go…”

Weiterlesen

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

Stay will be here it's a long one

Steve has a very sensitive omega, he can experience drops very easily. His parents put him on suppressants because they thought that it would suppress the omega and that way Steve could live an easier life in school. Steve pretends to be a beta despite the fact he wanted to be out and proud as an omega. Omegas are still very rare and male omegas are unheard of.

In high school he meets Eddie and they become friends pretty quickly. Eddie is an alpha and loves his friends and is always roughhousing with them. Despite being an omega Steve isn't a dainty little thing, he loves to mess around and would put Gareth in headlocks whenever possible.

Longish story short Steve overheard Eddie and the others talking about a girl that presented as an omega and how emotional she was. They start talking about how this is why they'd never be with an omega. Eddie especially double downs on it saying how it's just betas for him.

Steve leaves and misses hearing how Eddie plans on courting Steve soon. Steve experiences a drop and fellow omega Robin notices the signs and helps him out. She doesn't act like a typical omega either and the two grow closer and bond over it together. Robin goes with Steve to the doctors where they discover he's experiencing rejection sickness.

Robin agrees with Steve's parents, once they're aware of everything, that Steve should be kept away from Eddie so he can heal.

Cue Eddie unaware as to why Steve is pulling away from him and the guys and growing closer to Robin Jonathan, Nancy and Barb.

I love some miscommunication, yes!!! Eddie is so oblivious and of course he doesn’t care what Steve’s designation is, he just loves him!😭

Two days after they nearly lose their daughter to a fire the Buckley’s open the door to find a woman with curly red hair on their porch step. Claudia Henderson. They’ve heard the rumors, Hawkins does so dearly love them, about why she moved to Hawkins when her child was six. They’ve heard the rumors about rumors. About how her boy is friends with the boy who did but didn’t. They’ve seen her out and about. Mousy. Timid. Flinching when yelling gets too loud and over protective of her boy. For a moment, just a brief one, they think she’s here to blame their hatchling. Their fledgling. Backs straighten, mouths flatten.

“I do hope I didn’t wake Robin, knocking on your door,” is what they get instead. The mousy, timid woman not as noisy and timid as they thought as she manages to smile and talk her way into their home. Robin is still asleep.

“Now I’m sure we’ve heard the fire story.”

They nod. It felt wrong, smelled fishy. Dottie has never been a fan of the government and River saw the damage to the Harrington boy. No falling debris could cause that.

“I don’t know much. Dusty won’t say much and always looks so scared when I ask. But it’s a load of cow manure. Something happened though.”

Claudia talks in a soft low voice, even when agitated and upset. Her hands moving in eclectic patterns. She tells them what she’s seen, what she’s guessed, put together with the Sinclair’s and oddly enough Ted Wheeler.

“Karen is of the opinion we should wait for the children to tell us. She listens in but doesn’t offer anything. It’s sweet really,” she says and they both notice that her cheeks get the same pink tint that Robin’s does when she talks about Tammy or Heather or Vickie or even Chrissy. Dottie raises an eyebrow, River tucks his chin.

They’re interrupted by noises coming from upstairs. A thump like a body hitting the floor. Followed by two sets of running feet. A door opens, closes, a few minutes later the toilet flushes. They wait and listen as two try to become one on the walk back to Robin’s room.

“Steve likes to think he’s sneaky, but his nightmares give him away. He’ll… he’ll probably cycle through houses. Will try not to be seen. Especially now.”

“Now?” River asks because he’s always been nosier than Dottie.

“Him and Hopper.”

There were rumors, some nastier than others.

“Hopper had practically adopted him.”

Dottie makes a pain filled noise. She’d had a different upbringing than River. His grandmother joining the little commune of hippies and nature lovers, those who wanted peace and a greater feeling of unity, than her parents. And the parents that had basically adopted her.

“We shared custody, Hopper and I. So he comes through my front door. He’ll collapse on me and cry. He probably won’t with you. I know he doesn’t with the others.”

It’s not quite what they left behind, what grief caused them to flee. But it’s still a village and Claudia is there to welcome them in.

—/—/—/—/—/—

Later. Not even a year later. They, and the others, stand up in town hall. Call Jason Carver a fear mongering asshole and condemn anyone who believes him. Jason calls them satanist sympathizers. They aren’t quite run out of town but people side eye them. Some of the more religious threaten them.

They’re there when Claudia get the call Dustin and Steve are in the hospital. There to take Steve’s place protecting the Munson boy. Worry deep set on their faces when he faints the moment Dottie takes the nail studded bat from his hands.

They’re there when Steve flatlines twice and Eddie does thrice. They’re there when Wayne Munson gets the Claudia treatment. They’re there because that’s what family, what a village does.

What is...

On every What is Wednesdays I will explain a trope, a rhetorical device, or a literary technique in a few sentences. Put in the comments what you would like me to explain next.

What is... a drabble?

What is... dead dove?

What is... archetypal characters?

What is… deus ex machina?

What is… whump?

What is... plot bunny?

What is... canon vs. fanon?

What is… a headcanon?

What is… a plot hole?

What is… retcon?

What is… WIP?

What is… a sequel hook?

What is… a crossover?

What is… crack?

What is… a rarepair?

What is… a red herring?

What is… fluff?

What is… smut?

What is… OOC?

What is… a missing scene?

What is… Coda?

What is… a trope?

What is… Alpha vs. Beta Reader?

What is… a cliffhanger?

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Why does my Brain tells me 80% of the time, that the people I want to befriend hate/dislike me, because I am to much or to awkward…

Why do social interactions always be this complicated and tiring?

Why can’t I just understand humans?

Why do I have to think so much?

Sad Steddie Scenario Part 5

Okay I said I needed to just post what I had mostly written instead of everything I wanted have in this chapter, so! Here we are! Hopefully it won't be a year until the next part, yikes.

Previously on SSS: Steve spends a week mourning his relationship while his parents are home and being assholes. Dustin shows up to yell at/comfort him.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

“I’ve got to drive the kids home.”

Eddie watches as Steve’s car pulls away, barely pausing at the stop sign before disappearing around the corner. He stares at the now-empty road until a squawk from the tree overhead startles him into action.

He can’t—he can’t think about what he did right now. He needs to grab his things and get out of here before he loses it. What the fuck just happened? What did he do? God, Steve’s face. No, no, he’s not thinking about it. He’s going back inside to get his shit, and then he’s leaving.

He slams open the door to Gareth’s basement and thunders down the steps. The guys have already settled back in, lounging around, shooting the shit, clearly in no mood to break the party up even though the session is over. They barely glance up when he enters, but Jeff instantly does a double take.

“Whoa, hey, man. You don’t look so good.” That gets all of their eyes on him.

“I broke up with Steve.” He doesn’t mean to say it, but the words are out there now, and it’s real. It’s real and he can’t take it back.

Around him, the guys are clamoring, a loud cacophony that essentially amounts to, “What?!”

“I broke up with him,” he says again, almost disbelieving. His mind is already racing. He can take this back. He can fix this. He just needs to drive to Steve’s house and tell him that he didn’t mean it. That he was body snatched or possessed or Vecna’d.

Okay, maybe not that last one. But, god --

Gareth crows with laughter, breaking through the spiral of Eddie’s thoughts. “Seriously? Good for you dude. We’ve been waiting. And thank god. He was such a square.”

Jeff rolls his eyes at Gareth. “Does it make you a square if you call someone a square?”

“Shut up, man.” Gareth shoves at him and Jeff shoves back.

Grant nudges Eddie from where he sits on the floor next to him, waits for Eddie to look down at him before asking softly, “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I—I don’t know. Did I fuck up?” His voice sounds funny, far off. His eyes refuse to focus. Jeff and Gareth immediately stop their tussling. Gareth leans up from where Jeff has him pinned to the floor, eyes blazing.

“No. This is a good thing. He was a douchebag.”

“You guys were around him for one night,” Eddie argues.

Jeff pushes up from the floor and stands in front of Eddie, serious in a way he rarely is. “Yeah, but Eddie, you’ve been fucked up for months. I know we don’t know what you went through, and I’m not asking you to tell us, but it’s sucked watching you be a freaking zombie.”

“We didn’t even really get to watch you for most of it,” Grant breaks in. “It was like Harrington had you on house arrest. Half the times we tried to visit you and he was there, he refused to let us near you. Every other time, he kicked us out after like five minutes. We had no idea what was going on, we couldn’t talk to you.”

“He was just being protective,” Eddie protests, but it’s weak. Steve had been pretty militant about visitors during the early days after spring break. But Eddie hadn’t minded. For most of his recovery, he hadn’t wanted to see anyone. He’d never explicitly told Steve to keep people away, though. He’d somehow just known. Eddie can only imagine to his friends, though, it looked like they were being deliberately, even maliciously kept away by a known asshole who probably wouldn’t know Eddie from Adam.

Jeff nods at Grant’s words. “We’re your best friends, man. We were terrified over spring break. Then suddenly you’ve got this guy who you couldn’t stand playing guard dog over you, and we’re just supposed to accept that?”

“Now that you’ve been out of your cage for a little while,” Gareth breaks in, “and we get to hang out with both of you for real, he acts like he’d rather be anywhere else. Doesn’t know our names, doesn’t talk with us, can’t even be fucked to remember shit that’s important to you. So, yeah. I think this break up is a good thing.”

Ten minutes ago, so had Eddie. But now all he can see is the devastation on Steve’s face.

“You guys mind if I skip the cleanup? I can get most of the stuff later.”

“Yeah, mean, get out of here. We’ll see you next week.”

“Or before then, if you want to hang out,” Jeff says. “Now that we’ll actually be able to see you.”

Eddie scoops up the papers with his DM notes on them, but leaves his screen, dice, and books to grab later, and trudges to his car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next week is a blur. Eddie barely leaves his room, barely leaves his bed. He hears most of the kids talking to Wayne at various points, but Wayne, like the saint he is, turns them away, leaves Eddie to rot in peace.

He misses Steve. It’s honestly stupid for him to stay in his room the way he does, because Steve is in every corner of it. He’s left so much shit there (including but not limited to: a Hawkins High baseball raglan, a Springsteen cassette, at least two pairs of boxers, and memories, memories fucking everywhere). Eddie can still smell him on his sheets. In his weaker, weirder moments, he finds himself trying to hotbox Steve’s scent, comforter pulled over his head as he buries his nose in his what’s now Steve’s pillow and sniffs hard enough to cause a headache.

Eddie almost drove to Steve’s house after leaving Gareth’s that awful day. Made it three blocks away before he turned around and went home. His brain had been a mess, unable to decide what to do or how he felt, and it still is days later. He goes over everything obsessively - the epic failure of their date, the argument in the car after, the two days he spent ruminating on their fate, and then the break up itself and Steve’s reaction to it.

Eddie’d felt so solid in his decision the minute Steve had opened his mouth at Gareth’s. But as soon as he said it, all his reasons seemed flimsy. Who cares that they had one bad date, that Steve had been at less than his best one time in front of Eddie’s friends, that he’d run the second Eddie had tried to talk about it? Eddie could have tried again, gone over to his house the next day or called him up, talked about it when their heads were cooler. And who cares that they don’t have anything in common? Steve still acts interested in whatever Eddie wants to tell him most of the time. Asks questions, smiles at him so, so sweetly and tells him to keep talking every time Eddie laments that he's boring Steve.

But there’s just been an itch at the back of Eddie’s mind since he got out of the hospital. A shadow at the corner of his eye that disappears when he turns to look at it fully. It tugs at him at odd moments, when things seem to be going fine, good, even, but there’s something off. He can’t see a pattern, but he knows he feels it more when Steve’s around. And every time his friends or Wayne push back against Steve, every time something Steve says hits a sour note, the shadow grows bigger and more menacing.

He’d felt the shadow swell at The Hideout as he waited in the parking lot, watching the minutes tick by. He tried to shake it when Steve showed up, tried to ignore it pulling more insistently as he clocked Steve’s attire, his inattention, his apathy, and his anger. But it grew and grew until it was almost suffocating, until he saw him at Gareth’s and it exploded in words he couldn’t…didn’t want to?…take back.

Now here he is. Midway through a D&D session with his three closest friends and three kids who clearly know something’s up with the way they’ve been trying him since the session started. Lucas and Mike are just being annoying, having side conversations, making Eddie repeat himself when they don’t pay attention to the narration, but Dustin’s actively hostile, antagonizing Eddie’s NPCs at every turn, tossing out snide remarks at the other players unprovoked, even the way he rolls his dice is disrespectful.

“You okay over there, Henderson?” He finally asks, the third time Dustin’s tossed his dice so hard across the board they’ve flown off the table.

Dustin accepts his dice back from Jeff who’d scooped them off the floor easily enough, but he sneers at Eddie. “What do you care, Munson?”

Even though Eddie knows the likely reason Dustin’s acting out, he still revels in the eyes going wide around him, the quiet ooohhs at Dustin’s words. Eddie smiles like a predator indulging its prey.

“A Dungeon Master always cares if his party members are having a good time,” he says, low and dangerous. “So if you have a complaint, I say out with it. Share with the class, please.”

The words and the tone pass over the kid who used to cower at the thought of Eddie being upset with him. The shadow grows larger.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie says, menacing, meeting Henderson’s head-on stare unflinchingly. “Well, if you don’t have anything to say, then—”

“What did you do to Steve?” Mike breaks into their standoff. Eddie’s attention snaps to him.

“Excuse me?”

Mike rolls his eyes at the theatrics, something Eddie wouldn't have imagined possible before spring break. “You heard me.”

“Why do you think I’ve done anything to him?”

“You haven’t been around at all, and Steve hasn’t mentioned you once since our last session. Normally he can’t shut up about you.”

“Mike!” Dustin hisses. Mike throws up his hands.

“It’s true! And his hair’s been all droopy!”

“Jesus Christ, Mike,” Lucas says, dropping his head in his hands.

“Oh no, not his hair!” Gareth cracks up with Grant and Jeff.

“Shut up, man,” Lucas says, with enough annoyance that the other guys stop laughing. Lucas never talks back.

“He dumped him,” Henderson bites off. “For no goddamn reason.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie stares Dustin down from behind his DM screen. Yeah, he did do that. But he had his reasons…mostly…and he’s not going to let some snot-nosed freshman, no matter what they’ve been through together, act like he’s the bad guy in this situation. He did what he had to do.

“Yes, I do.”

“What,” Eddie scoffs. “Did Steve run and tattle to you?”

“What is he, five? No he didn’t tattle to me.” Dustin rolls his eyes, which Eddie’s getting real tired of seeing. “It’s not tattling to tell your best friend something bad that happened to you. Besides, he didn’t even want to tell me, but I caught him crying and made him.”

That brings Eddie up short. “He was crying?”

“He was crying.” Dustin says, somehow smug and angry and sad all at once. “I’ve seen Steve after he was tortured and I’ve never seen him cry.”

“After he was what?”

“Dude!” Mike smacks him on the arm, gives him a look as he gestures to the rest of the Hellfire guys whose eyes are all wide as saucers.

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Metaphorically tortured,” he amends. Eddie glances at the guys and can see it doesn’t help. Eddie needs to end this now, before anyone says something they regret, or anyone exposes something they really shouldn’t.

“Henderson, listen—” But he’s cut off by a herd of elephants galumphing down the stairs.

“All right, children, it’s time to go! Move your butts!” Instead of elephants, it’s Robin, entering the room like righteous whirlwind. Eddie clocks immediately that she’s spitting mad, eyes ablaze, mouth set.

Gareth, with zero sense of self preservation, whines, “But we haven’t finished yet!” The look Robin shoots him is pure venom.

“Yes, you have.” She dismisses him, and turns back to the kids who are already gathering their things without protest. “Now move it, chop chop. Nancy’s in the station wagon outside.” The kids don’t grumble the way they normally do when…when it’s Steve come to get them and is hurrying them out of the room. Dustin shoulder checks Eddie on the way out, knocking him off balance metaphorically if not physically.

As the kids file upstairs, Robin lingers.

“I need to talk to you,” she says to him. “In private, please.” It’s not a request. Eddie nods. Time for a reckoning.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Next up! Robin and Eddie have it out, and we get more insight into this "shadow" that Eddie feels.

I don't keep a tag list, so sorry! Likes and reblogs and comments are so so so appreciated!

I love the “Steve has good parents, they’re just not on camera.”

Mom edition

Dustin is crawling in through the window. He freezes halfway through the window when he makes eye contact with Steve’s mom.

“Sweetie who is this small curly haired child breaking into our house?”

“That’s Dustin.”

“Okay?”

“I’ve adopted him as my brother.”

“Hello new son?”

…

Steve’s mom comes home to find Joyce on her couch, Steve talking very excitedly to her.

“What’s Joyce doing here?”

“Hey mom, meet mom.”

“Two moms and you still can’t avoid getting concussed every year?”

“Neither of you are very good at your job.”

…

“Mom!” Steve’s mom turns at the voice and finds a small redhead looking at Steve.

“Yes Max?”

“Can you take me to the arcade?”

Steve groans, pulling out some of the allowance that his mom had just given him and handed it to the little girl.

“Lucas too?”

“Yes, now scram.”

“Mom?” Steve’s mom asks.

“I’m not sure how that happened either.”

…

Eddie shows up on their doorstep with a bunch of half burnt cookies.

“I’m here for Steve.” He says simply to the bewildered mother staring at him.

“Okay.” She turns back towards the inside of the house. “Steve your boyfriend is here.”

“Did Steve tell you?”

“No, but god does my boy have a type.”