I write from the edge of the dark, where the sea keeps its secrets and the lighthouse shines.
This blog is a keeper's log, the words contained meant to inspire sorrow, comfort, or haunt you. I'm here to write and cast my signals into the fog.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
This blog is for my fanfiction and fanart mostly, I finally migrated here properly because I refuse to use twitter or instagram anymore because of the prevalence of AI.
I do not take commissions unless I explicitly make a post about commissions, please don't inquire in me for them!
Do not feed any of my works (written or drawn) into AI, I don't endorse AI and I don't like AI.
The sun kisses Simon’s skin, a hand runs through his hair.
“Would you like me to cut your hair, Simon? It’s getting quite long.” His mother asks, her voice warming him just like the sun. Simon shakes his head, smiling up at her.
“No, I like it long. It’s pretty like yours.” He replies, no older than 5. His mother’s hand pats his head.
“I like your hair long, too.” She muses, looking back out of Eden at the great red planet below. It hadn’t been long since they had moved to Eden, following Simon’s grandmother to the space station away from the enormous populace of Mars where Simon was born.
“Mary! Can you come here for a moment?” His grandmother calls, and his mother pets Simon’s hair once more before leaving him alone in front of the window.
He closes his eyes and basks in the sensation again. One thing that was different from Mars on Eden was that Simon was able to enjoy the sun any moment he wished.
On Mars, the buildings were so tall and there were so many that the sun became a commodity. He wouldn’t learn until he was older that this meant the sun was for the rich up high in their penthouses.
He inhales, then exhales, not a single sound to be heard besides his breathing. There were no vehicles of any kind on Eden, offering a sense of tranquility that Simon had never felt so deeply before; like it clung to his very bones. As he enjoyed the moment, the warmth around him changed, lapping at his skin now. There was a humidity that did not belong on Eden and when he opened his eyes he was greeted by rusty red metal. His body was transitioning from warm to overheated, and when he looked behind him for his mother she had vanished and was replaced with an enormous screen and he was no longer on Eden.
His hands shake, and when he looks down at the strange sensation at his feet, he can see scarlet liquid. Blood rising, climbing up his body like it's sentient and looking to choke him and staining every inch of him.
He screams and it makes no sound. He starts beating his arms against the walls, hoping without merit that he would somehow manage to break through and be free to return to his mother and grandmother. The metal groans but doesn’t budge and the blood climbs higher and higher, now as tall as his throat. He screams and screams but no sounds escape him as the blood pours down his throat, choking him. His body is too hot, too warm, all he can smell is the sharp tang of hot iron like a cloy texture in his throat. And soon he can’t see anything but crimson red, the liquid thick and viscous as it squeezes him.
Simon’s eyes open with a snap, the thick crimson gone from his vision, replaced with…the sterile white room he had woken in before. How long ago had that been?
“Eye movement detected. What is two plus two?” A robotic, mildly suspicious looking arm swivels into his view and Simon stiffens. He immediately swings at it but his arm doesn’t reach as the robot swings out of reach again.
“I am following protocol, no need to get violent. What is two plus two?” The arm repeats, pissing Simon off even more as it tries to placate him?
“Go fuck yourself.” He snaps, standing up even as his aching bones protest and he feels an uncomfortable tugging in his skin. He glances down, noticing the IV pulling his skin and with a noise of disgust he tears it out, ignoring the blood that dots his skin then slowly runs down his hand. The dream crawls under his skin and he has to maneuver one armed to staunch the blood, avoiding the robot arm as it tries to help. He bites down on a bundle of gauze, lifting his arm to his mouth and presses his arm down hard against it. The pain makes him grit his teeth as it flashes through him like lightning, but after a few moments he pulls his arm away and turns back to take in his surroundings and check for any other injuries.
When Simon looks down at himself, he pauses and stares.
“What the actual fuck am I wearing…?” He mutters, pulling the hem of his shirt to read it better. It’s a bright red short sleeved t-shirt with a white square that says;
‘Ah! The Element of Surprise.'
“...Just figures I had to owe my life to a dork.” Simon mutters under his breath, letting the shirt hem go. His left arm was gone, which honestly wasn’t the greatest but it could have been his right arm. He brushes his hand over his shoulder where the joint was completely gone, and he noticed the shirt sleeve had been neatly pinned together so it didn’t hang in odd angles. Something about this small detail made his chest tighten unpleasantly. Compartmentalizing that detail for later, he looks instead to the room he awoke in.
The room is cleaner and more sterile than any he’s ever seen - even aboard Eden. The structuring of everything was vastly different from what he knew as well. It reminded him of the images he had grown up learning about with the C.O.I., the outdated spaceships that had brought human colonies to Mars. Those were stuck in museums as scientists improved their designs and made more efficient models. All their technology, all their advancements gone with the rapture. Leaving behind incompetent fools like him who only knew how to build death traps like the Iron Lung.
Interstellar space travel was a luxury, but immigrating to a space station like he had? That had been poverty disguised as a luxury. It had meant overpopulation, a need to clear out the filth. Looking around the ship still, he can guess that it isn’t a space station judging by the three lone medical beds and the eerie silence that was never present after the Quiet Rapture on Eden, which does help him relax.
Simon continues inspecting the room, though the vessel itself has outdated shapes and designs, the robotic arm was far more advanced than anything he had seen. Everything here gave him an incredible feeling of uncanny valley; things were just normal enough at a passing glance, but looking deeper made his body react viscerally. He had noticed it when he first entered the ship with…what was his name again? The other voice on the radio had said it many times but his brain is muggy, not remembering details through the haze of fear and paranoia his rescue had entailed. But honestly that doesn’t matter to him suddenly. What matters to him is the glittering of thousands of stars out the window of the ship as his eyes snag on it again.
Simon stumbles to the strange bay-like window, he loses track of time as he sits on that windowsill, just staring at each individual star as the ship spins lazily. Trying to memorize and recall every constellation he’d ever learned and see every one he doesn’t know. He had been so young when the Quiet Rapture had wrought the universe, snapping away all the stars. The sky had been gradually dimming with every year as Simon grew older, each star’s light eventually fizzling as the years went by. The closest stars had dimmed first. The Solar system had vanished in a matter of hours as the ghostlights of the universe reminded them of everything that had been lost, the darkness creeping in on them.
And yet; here Simon sits, every single star that had vanished was twinkling before his eyes like the gentle bloom of baby’s breath. They were here. Simon would have been content to sit there until the end of time if not for his body screaming viscerally in pain. The unnatural curve of the window makes his back ache, and the more he sits the more he can no longer ignore his stomach gnawing at his intestines from neglect.
When he finally manages to pry his eyes from the stars, he decides to take inventory of the room. Though he doubted that there would be food there, it couldn’t hurt to try. Sifting through the cabinets first, Simon notes just how exorbitantly it was stocked - of course, not of food. There were more bandages than one person would probably ever need; miles of gauze in the form of many rolls, and dozens of chemicals he couldn’t even pronounce. Though he shudders and almost vomits when he finds the rubbing alcohol, the acrid taste burns his mouth like the foul liquid is still there.
Not even ten minutes later, he has yet to see any food and his stomach is protesting louder and more insistently, so he makes the reluctant choice to leave the room. He had found a bunch of scalpels in a drawer - a terrible hiding place - but he left them alone this time. He was less panicked now and after actually having felt the man - felt his skin against Simon’s while he had the man pinned - Simon no longer believed him to be a hallucination. Though he still wouldn’t trust anything he had to say until he could decide for himself if what he was saying seemed to be true. He wondered for a moment if that was paradoxical, but he didn’t care.
Simon steps out of the medical room and back into the hallway. He hasn’t seen it properly lit yet, his only exposure being brief flashes and when he was first on board while being tossed like salad as the man who had saved his life was trying to get them into orbit. His steps are a bit more sure of himself than last time, but he maintains his arm on the wall to help him keep upright just in case. Though his coordination is back, he doesn’t notice the strange glass pane looking object on the floor before he accidentally kicks and a small lance of pain flashes through him as it goes flying. It skitters along the metal hallway, making incredibly loud noises that definitely are not the sounds that glass makes.
“Simon? You’re awake?” The man’s voice startles Simon and his mind tries to remember his rescuer’s name. Rocky was easy enough to remember, as strange as it was, but all he remembers of his rescuer's name was that it began with a ‘G’. As the man rounds the corner to face Simon, he’s once again struck by the man’s presence. There’s just something about him that is just so aggressively bright, as if someone had given the colour yellow sentience and it became Simon’s rescuer. Simon’s eyes drift to the cut at the man’s throat, he still had a thin bandage around his neck, so it must not be scabbed yet. That means he hadn’t been out for 24 hours yet, at least, or maybe just nearing that. Simon tries to ignore his still lightly throbbing toes from that damn panel.
“You’re awake! And walking, thank goodness. You seem more stable now, too.” He seems genuinely pleased which makes Simon’s hackles immediately rise.
“I am.” He says flatly, not amused. His mood seems to dampen the man’s smile a little and Simon watches as the man reigns himself in. It’s so odd to watch, as if the beam of yellow before him had never learned how to keep his emotions in check.
“You remember your name and everything, right? You weren’t out as long as I was, so your memory should be intact.” He continues, and Simon stares blankly, something tugging in his brain when he hears ‘intact.’
“Yes, I remember my name.” He says, it sounds clipped and stiff - a verbal way of holding the strange man at arms length.
“And you remember mine? And Rocky’s?” The man adds, smiling expectantly and Simon glances away, coughing.
“I remember Rocky’s, but not your name.” Simon finally admits, pushing past the man to keep walking through the ship. The man follows, and when Simon glances over he sees the man’s face is scrunched slightly, as if trying to recall something.
“Did I tell you my name? I swear I introduced myself when I was talking to you through the communicators.” He says, but he doesn’t seem too sure as he follows Simon.
“If you did, I don't remember.” Simon replies and the man sticks his hand out awkwardly for a handshake, halting Simon.
“My name is Grace. Ryland Grace technically, and doctor. But I like Grace better.” Grace smiles, his smile awfully subdued compared to the normal ray of sunshine he seemed to be perpetually emulating.
Simon just stares at him flatly, not extending his hand as it was busy keeping him stabilized and unfortunately he had just the one. Grace realizes his mistake and laughs awkwardly, trying to play off the attempt to shake hands by running his hand through his hair. Simon watches him closely, like a predator stalking his prey, taking in every single detail.
Grace’s glasses are skewed at an odd angle he had never seen someone who wore glasses do before, his dirty blonde hair mussed from his hand running through it, and he wore a shirt that says “I had potential” with a weird little graphic of a ball on a slope. Simon groans as he looks back down at the shirt he had woken in.
“Why is your clothing so…?” He doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence, looking back up at Grace’s face, noticing it’s now flushed a light pink under that tan.
“The word you’re searching for is ‘awesome,’ just so you know.” He laughs sheepishly.
“I like them, they’re funny. I guess I don’t really look to impress.” He adds, growing a bit more confident as he talks more before he moves on as it contrasts with his self deprecating joke.
“Jokes aside, um…I am very, very happy you’re alright. It was getting lonely in here with you and Rocky out.” Grace admits, smiling this devastatingly adorable smile that shocks Simon straight to his core. He stares unabashedly at Grace, his face still frozen in his contemplative grimace, even as he feels like there’s a reactor meltdown siren blaring in his skull and red flashing lights. How was he meant to respond to this?
Was he even meant to at all? Just say; ’Oh, no problem I’m so happy I’m awake and that my being alive provides you such comfort.’? He maintains his stare, and Grace fidgets, looking around awkwardly as the moment lingers longer than it should.
“Er, yeah. I’m happy I’m awake, too.” Simon mumbles, trying to move past the moment so he could finally ask Grace what the fucking deal was with the stars, but his stomach growls again, gnawing at him and he lets out a long exhale.
“Anything to eat here while you tell me what the fuck is…everything?” He asks, his curiosity eating him alive as much as his hunger, waving briefly to everything with his hand before replacing it back on the wall.
Grace seems relieved by the topic change, smiling and lifting his glasses to put them back on.
“Yeah, do you like ramen? I was just going to make some when I heard you wake up, I can pop open another cup.” He says, but his brows furrow.
“What do you want to know about? What deal with the stars?” He asks as he walks, taking the lead as Simon follows him to wherever he apparently is cooking ‘ramen.’
“You said the stars were dying, that’s why you came here. Why aren’t they already dead? Why are they back?” He rapid fires, unable to contain his frustration as his stomach aches. He watches as Grace mulls it over, searching the air like it will make him find the right words to say.
“So about…6 years ago, or sorry, about 13-14 years ago due to time dilation now, a radio telescope enthusiast named Irina Petrova noticed that there was a streak of infrared light from the sun to Venus.” Grace starts, Simon stills in the hallway, his hunger forgotten momentarily.
“The line she noticed is now called the ‘Petrova line’, we’ve discovered that it is made up of micro-organisms that we have named ‘Astrophage’ or-”
“Star eater.” Simon interrupts softly, making Grace’s eyebrows rise but he nods, continuing.
“Yes, star eater. The astrophage is eating the sun essentially. Dimming it.” He finishes, watching Simon closely.
Dimming the stars…
“And you saved them? Is that why they’re back? They weren’t gone, just dimmed?” Simon asks desperately, stepping closer towards Grace as they walk, not needing the wall to stay upright anymore.
“No, I honestly do not understand what you mean. I actually have a lot of questions for you. How about we eat and talk at the same time? Hopefully you don’t eat as disgustingly as Rocky. Don’t tell him I said that.” Grace says, amused as he takes the lead again. Simon follows him slowly, frowning.
“Why is he named Rocky anyway-” He’s interrupted when they round the corner and Simon sees a…plastic bubble looking thing with a number of panels like the one he kicked making up its shape. And there in the bottom is a pile of rocks.
“This is Rocky.” Grace says sheepishly, and Simon stares at him, then at the rocks.
“I heard him speaking over the comms, what do you mean he’s-” Simon tenses, realizing that this creature before him is an alien. His body reacts before Simon has even fully registered it. His hand tremors, his blood turns to ice sluicing through his veins. He startles when he feels the ghost of his dream, blood lapping at his ankles insistently, but when he looks down there isn’t any.
“Are you okay-”
“Why do you have an alien with you on board?” Simon interrupts him again, trying to maintain his composure. This creature looked like the antithesis to the fucking monster that had been picked up on his cameras, that he had collected a sample of. But regardless, he couldn’t control the raging fear.
He’s slowly realizing now that he actually…hasn’t thought much of his time in the SM-13 since waking. His mind had been so preoccupied by the revelation that the stars had returned somehow that his stint in the iron lung was forced to the back of his mind. Something about it was muddled, his mind sluggish as it tries to move through the memories. At least he knew enough as his mind connected the dots slowly. His x-ray camera had detected the monster from the beginning, he had seen it from the beginning. Fucking Ava had wanted a sample of a living creature and he had naively trusted her, his need to survive overpowering rational thought as he lived in a constant state of life or death deep under a fucking blood ocean.
He just hadn’t realized it was an x-ray camera until he used it on the crew…it took him until now to realize that the photos he had taken of a skeleton had just been the bones of that fucking thing, that it was alive when he’d taken it and it had moved. He suddenly feels like the world's biggest idiot for not realizing at the time, his mind had focused so singularly on doing what had been asked of him so he could live.
“Simon?” Simon is wrenched from his own mind by Grace’s hand on his shoulder, the contact careful, like trying to comfort a cornered animal.
“What?” Simon snaps, his pride telling him to step back or brush off Grace’s hand. But the warmth from his contact bled through him and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“What happened to you?” Grace asks softly, his eyes concerned, but Simon was surprised to see that the man’s eyes were on his. He had expected to be gawked at by now, to be stared at for the scars he could feel on his face or his missing arm. But all Grace had done was neatly pin the shirt sleeve of his shirt so Simon’s dignity didn’t feel like an afterthought.
“I…I need to fucking eat before I can figure this out and tell you.” Simon says, and Grace stares at him through his thin frames before he nods after a beat.
“Okay, sure. I’ll go make that killer ramen. Let's slow down, sit down and relax since this is all new.” Grace says theatrically, and Simon can at least appreciate his obvious attempt at lightening the mood, his lips twitching and trying to smile.
He continues to survey the room as Grace busies himself. It does look like a science lab of some kind, though Simon wasn’t well versed, he had seen several during his days on Eden. When a couple of space stations are all that’s left of humanity, you eventually come to know every single room over multiple decades. There're rolling stools like what Simon was sitting on around a table, only three, Simon notes. The walls - what little wall there is visible without windows on it or whiteboards - are plastered in posters chock full of science and math jargon he doesn’t know, and tools that he also didn’t know anything about save for a few like a microscope or a beaker.
As he looks around, words coming to mind, Grace speaking to him when he had been unconscious and healing. At the time he really had no context for it, but being able to look around and see, he started to understand.
“This ship was equipped with anything we would need for our mission; enough food for a few years, scientific tools, and medical supplies. There were only three humans on board - a scientist, an engineer, and a pilot. There’s only me now, and Rocky, so I guess we have the ‘scientist’ and ‘engineer’ covered.’
Simon’s attention turns to Grace himself now, watching as the man’s idea of cooking and ‘making a killer ramen’ - whatever that was - was just filling two strange looking cups with water as a powdery, soupy scent fills the air. Then Grace puts the two cups into a microwave and Simon really starts to wonder if this is an elaborate hoax from the monster on AT-5, because he had not seen a microwave in so long, let alone one that looked so outdated. Every single piece of reality felt like it was aiming to confuse or overwhelm him, and fuck if it wasn’t working.
“What the hell is ramen?” Simon mutters, more to himself than Grace, but Grace still turns around to grin.
“Ramen is an asian noodle soup dish, it’s delicious. Unfortunately this isn’t authentic ramen, just instant, but it’s still great and you can’t really get authentic ramen 11.9 light years from earth.” He seems more amused by this fact than frightened, but it absolutely terrifies Simon.
“So we’re in deep space, with…non-authentic food, a rock alien, and…what? A prayer?” Simon demands.
“You said you came here to save the stars, have you?” Simon follows up, making Grace sig as the microwave beeps. He pulls two steaming cups out of it, grabbing two forks and sets one in each cup, giving them a light stir and places one on the lab table in front of Simon before he sits across from him.
“Unfortunately not yet. And you should eat at least while I explain, when you’ve eaten some maybe you’ll understand a bit better, be able to chime in a little. Blow on the ramen, though, they’re hot.” Grace says, blowing on his ramen then slurping at it while he speaks.
Simon bristles, but relents, deciding to listen and hope that maybe Grace is right, hearing him explain it completely this time instead of the pieces he caught while unconscious would probably help.
“Essentially, Rocky and I are currently saving our stars. We are the only two planets we know of that have life on it, maybe in the future others will find us and we can share the cure with them, but for now…it’s just Earth and Erid.” Grace starts, sounding like a teacher, his hands gesticulating as Simon slurps at the piping hot ramen, ignoring the slight burn from not blowing on it enough. He finds he actually kind of likes it. Both the ramen, and Grace’s weird behaviours.
“The Petrova line of astrophage is dimming not just earth’s sun but many others. It’s like an interstellar virus that chows down on the heat and light energy of stars and jumps planet to planet. It reproduces via mitosis and a complicated chain of events involving infra-red light, CO2 and pockets of air.” Grace continues, and Simon stares unabashedly, his ramen momentarily forgotten.
“The danger that Erid and Earth faces is that the sun dimming even slightly means the planet's temperatures tank, and the environment can collapse. By now, 11 years later from when I left, Earth will most likely have cooled 10-15 degrees. No way to communicate and ask, though.” Grace says, and Simon is still staring, his brain running a mile a minute trying to understand.
“Which brings us here, to Tau Ceti. 46 years ago Rocky arrived here following the same evidence that brought me here - Tau Ceti has a Petrova Line, but it isn’t dimming. Why? We actually only recently discovered why; Tau Ceti e is home to Taumoeba and also is Tau Ceti’s moon. They eat astrophage..” Grace grins now, Simon slowly resumes his chewing, this information starting to sound familiar again.
“We found you on Tau Ceti e while we were fishing for the predator that eats astrophage - Taumoeba - and we fished you up along with it. While you and Rocky have been out, I’ve been breeding the taumoeba so that we can send some with Rocky for transport back to Erid, and I’ll be taking the rest to earth.” Grace finishes, picking his ramen up again to eat.
Simon stares at him for a while, his brain trying to catch up. Earth and Erid, the only known inhabited planets, ‘7 years ago’ and not the year followed by E.I.C., and the stars dimming gradually as the astrophage moves rather than all at once…fuck, Simon was beginning to suspect he wasn’t even in the same reality.
“Humans only inhabit earth?” He asks, watching Grace carefully, as if expecting the man to deceive him. But Grace just looks over his slipping glasses at Simon, slurping up a giant bite of ramen.
“Mhm.” Grace nods, chewing his bite and Simon sighs, shaking his head. Okay, maybe he wasn’t beginning to suspect, he fucking knew.
“I was born on Mars but immigrated to the space station, Eden.” Simon demands, looking at Grace, deciding it was his turn to explain now since Grace was eating, Simon’s cup was nearly empty, and his stomach was somewhat happy.
“I was born on mars where we use different metrics of time because humans colonized outside of earth, so we needed a universal time metric; E.I.C., or Epoch of Interplanetary Colonization. For example, the present day where I lived was 2370 A.D., or 378 E.I.C..” Simon explains, watching Grace carefully. He just eats, fascinated by everything that Simon is saying, not a single ounce of recognition flickering in his gaze. This truly was all new information for the man.
“In the year 2349 A.D. or 357 E.I.C., the ‘Quiet Rapture’ happened. Every single star disappeared, leaving only a few space stations. I grew up watching the sky dim as their light faded eventually, farther away planets taking longer to show that they were also gone. All stars vanished, even Mars and Earth. Everything except for a few space stations and a handful of moons covered in blood.” Simon goes on.
“That’s where I was before you ‘fished me up’ I guess.” He says wryly, pain lancing softly through his head, a headache setting in slowly.
“I was on a moon called AT-5, in that wreck of a submarine you pulled me out of. I…” Simon trails off, the pain through his skull more prominent. He grits his teeth, trying to sift through his memories, they’re hazy from fear and…so many things he doesn’t even know if they’re real.
“I was being used for my involvement in the destruction of a space station, the Consolidation of Iron - our government, basically; the C.O.I. - only has one use for convicted felons. Free labour until they die. I was tasked with exploring the blood ocean floor, finding things of value that would let me live. I saw a fucking monster and it was speaking to me, tricking me.” Simon shuts his mouth, his teeth clicking. He opens his eyes, looking warily at Grace.
“You probably think I’m fucking insane.” Simon sighs, startled when he sees the pure fascination in Grace’s eyes.
“No, I don’t think so at all.” Grace speaks finally, looking thoughtfully at Simon, like he’s a puzzle Grace wants to solve.
“This is all far too detailed to be fake, in my honest opinion. I know I’m not a psychologist or something, but this seems real to me. Your clothes were completely a different style than anything I’d seen, you’re technically a martian but you’re human like me. No surprise we colonized outside of earth.” He muses thoughtfully.
“2370 A.D. is a little wild, though. The present day year for me is 2036 C.E., or A.D., they’re the same.” Grace looks thoughtful.
“You said you were on a moon; AT-5. Was it anywhere near the Tau Ceti planet system?” He asks, and Simon shakes his head slowly, still processing what Grace had just said. He was…in the past? Was it his past or another…?
“I have no idea, it’s a bit difficult to tell when all the planets are gone.” He says dryly, and Grace laughs.
“Fair point. I’m just wondering…what could have brought you here?” He stares at Simon, and Simon can’t help feeling frustrated, if only he could remember what happened, remember the chain of events after everything had gone insane. But all he remembered was the sickening crunch of his arm ripping out of his socket, the voice of Ava begging him to…listen to her? He closes his eyes, frustrated and his head aching even more fiercely. The Iron lung was getting too hot, too many voices trying to talk to him at the same time. Something about a black box. Simon opens his eyes, huffing in annoyance and bringing his hand to his forehead.
“I don’t remember.” He mutters, glancing at Grace and shocked to see the sympathy there.
Grace seems to realize he’s staring and looks back at his ramen, lifting the cup and drinking the broth from it. Simon glances at his, seeing a few stray noodles and realizing that he could drink the broth too, so he lifts his own cup to his mouth. They sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over the many revelations of the day.
“So, whatever took your stars is different from what’s trying to take mine.” Grace murmurs, staring at the table intently, as if the answers to their predicament was somewhere in there.
“I wonder if maybe you didn’t travel in time, but in space. Your history and everything else so far is completely different from anything I know. When did you start to colonize Mars? When the E.I.C. time metric was created? If so, that was 1992. My earth still isn’t even close to being able to colonize another planet, let alone in 1992.” Grace deduces, surprising Simon not just because of his revelation but also at how easily he figured out the year.
“Yeah, 1992. Then…different dimensions?” Simon says slowly, his brain throbbing in his skull at the thought.
“What the fuck.” He mutters darkly, rubbing at his pounding temple.
“I also have been having some…memory problems. So I understand if you can’t recall, don’t push yourself to remember it. It’ll come back when something reminds you of it.” Grace smiles at Simon, making his hackles rise. He wants to snap back at him, tell him to fuck off with his pity, but he stills when he sees that Grace isn’t looking at him with pity. He’s just looking at Simon with an empathy and soft grief that evaporates his anger. He glares down at the table, still massaging his temple.
“Yeah, okay.” Simon says gruffly, an aching sensation clawing at his chest. His hand rubs over his shoulder where his other arm no longer was, drifting up to the side of his face that’s also marred with raised skin from similar scarring.
“It’s just kind of fucking hard not being able to remember why you’re suddenly so broken.” He mutters, then looks at Grace again.
“Thank you. For explaining. It may not look like it, but I feel a lot better.” He mutters, glancing back at the table halfway through his sentence, feeling embarrassed. Everything was so odd, completely turned on its head. Grace and he are literally the only people on board such a small ship, completely different to Eden where there was almost no privacy. Even if you couldn’t see them, you could hear people in the floors or rooms above you, to your sides, or below you. He’d gotten so used to being so closely tied to the community that…being with one person felt relieving and incredibly odd. He was out of the zoo exhibit, but all he knew how to be was an animal.
“No problem, if you have any questions come ask me. I was a middle school teacher on earth.” Grace grins, talking with that same kind tone and matching expression that made Simon squirm again.
“Yeah, okay.” Simon mutters, and he stands, looking around, fidgeting. They’d eaten, and he somewhat understood better what was happening in the universe he is now in…what the fuck does one do after finding this shit out? He stills for a moment, looking at Grace.
“Are there…do you have any trees on board? And earth still has all its trees?” Simon asks, his heart racing. Grace’s eyes soften a little, still making Simon uncomfortable but he doesn’t look away this time.
“I don’t have any trees on board, but I can show you what they look like on earth if that’s what you want. I’m not sure how many trees they might have now, but when I left they had all of them.” Grace smiles, standing and gathering his and Simon’s discarded ramen cups, tossing them into a garbage bin and the forks clink in a sink that seems more fit to wash petri dishes than forks.
“You look a lot better now that you’ve eaten, are you thirsty at all?” Grace asks, and Simon thinks about it for just a moment.
“I could use some water.” He says, and Grace smiles, getting him a cup and filling it with water while Simon stares out the window at the stars again. Grace hands him the cup, it’s cool to the touch and Simon takes a sip before his eyes widen and he chugs the entire thing down. The water is so clean, a stark contrast to the slightly brown water with an acrid aftertaste full of floating particles no one wanted to know the origin of. He groans softly, extending his hand to Grace.
“More please?” He asks, a grin he can’t stifle pulling at his lips. Grace grins back wider, taking the cup.
“Coming right up.” He laughs, and Simon watches him refill the cup. The liquid is crystal clear as it pours, making Simon lick his lips again. Grace stands and hands it back to him.
“Come on, let's go see those trees. Try and make that last a bit longer, yeah?” He laughs, taking off his glasses and hanging them strangely on his ear again as he leads the way.
“Yeah yeah, I’ll make it last.” Simon muses, sipping at the cup as he follows Grace, still looking around at everything. When they’re passing Rocky again, Simon pauses, staring at the prone figure.
“You said you were alone for a while, how long have we been out?” He asks slowly, searching the pile of rubble to see if he can see a face anywhere.
“It’s been a week.” Grace says quietly, running his hand through his hair awkwardly, staring at Rocky, too. Simon can see the worry rise to the surface of Grace’s face, aging him slightly before Grace looks back at Simon and smiles wryly.
“If you’re wondering why I’m so attached to him, that’ll be a bit harder to explain, and I’m not sure I can even iterate it properly.” He muses, resuming walking, clearly expecting Simon to follow. Which he does.
“I won’t pry.” Simon says, feeling oddly relaxed in this strange bright man’s presence. It was taking him a while to really realize it, but Grace had no ulterior motive. Everyone he’d ever known besides his mother and grandmother had a secret agenda, even as recently as damn Ava. But Grace’s agenda wasn’t secret or nefarious, just a noble goal.
“You’re not prying, it’s just a bit difficult to iterate. He means a lot to me.” Grace says, hands in his pocket as he leads Simon through the ship.
“That’s understandable.” Simon says, following Grace around a corner, heading a different way from the medical room, until they entered a room full of dim…screens? They lined every single inch of the room besides the little bridge they were currently standing on. As Simon looks around, he’s startled as the screens light up. He blinks through the bright flash, and when he opens his eyes again he freezes, eyes widening.
Trees everywhere, a forest of pine as far as the eye can see, slightly grainy as if to remind him it isn’t quite real. But it steals his breath all the same as he stares, trying to take in every single inch of them.
“These…are on earth?” He whispers, and Grace grins, nodding and a moment later the image changes again. Now, a leafy willow surrounds them, other trees off in the background, not the main show apparently. Simon stares, collapsing onto the edge of the little bridge and letting his feet hang as he stares at the screens as Grace keeps clicking through. Forests and forests of different trees blink by in front of his eyes, Simon isn’t sure when it started, but he can’t even wipe his eyes as wet tears slide down his cheeks, he just keeps staring.
At some point, Grace runs out of forests to show him, the screens transforming into a flower field as far as the eye can see with a rolling hill in the distance with more trees than Simon could count. Grace sits down next to Simon on his right. Simon is acutely aware of the stare prickling at his skin, but the silence stretches. Grace is respecting his reaction while silently offering to listen if he has something to say, a kindness he hasn’t ever been treated to before.
“Just give me a second.” Simon sighs, and Grace chuckles softly, looking back out over the artificial flower field as wind Simon can’t feel gently breathes through them, making them sway and his eyes catch on an adorable bee bumbling around before it lands on one small bloom.
“This is beautiful.” Simon says softly, eyes still caught on the bee. In a strange way, the awkward little thing reminds him of Grace.
“It is. The uh, the people who sent me and my other two crewmates here didn’t want us going stir crazy, so this was their solution.” Grace chuckles dryly as Simon picks up his forgotten cup of water and sips from it again before setting it back down. Grace reclines back on his hands in a way that makes Simon horribly aware of his missing left arm.
“Smart of them, or kind, to find a way to bring earth with you.” He says, clearing his throat. He catches Grace smiling in the corner of his eye, it’s wry and sad. Simon looks at him properly now, frowning.
“What?” He asks, and Grace laughs a little, Simon recognizes the betrayal in Grace’s eyes.
“I wasn’t really given a choice, I know this room wasn’t for me, which almost makes it worse because I’m the only one from the original crew to have ever used it.” He says dryly.
“You weren’t given a choice?” Simon asks, and Grace purses his lips.
“I told you I understood your memory problem. Essentially, since I woke up from the coma they induced me into so I wouldn’t go crazy travelling in space for so many years, it caused me to have some temporary memory loss.” Grace starts.
“They’ve been coming back to me slowly. And, well, a day ago I…remembered that I was forced to come here. I wasn’t given any other options. An accident killed the crew’s back up members and the other scientist chosen for the mission. I was the only one with all the knowledge of the mission and who could go at such short notice. They ‘gave me a choice’ but stripped me of it when it wasn’t the one they wanted.” He says quietly, and Simon stares, wide eyed. Maybe he and Grace were more alike than he had ever thought they were.
A righteous anger burns in Simon’s gut and he stares at the field again, looking more at the screens than the things it’s showing now.
“Are you sure we’re in different dimensions? Seems like they overlap pretty fucking well to me.” He jokes softly, and a grin tugs at his lips when Grace stares at him, shocked, then bursts into laughter. Simon suddenly feels like maybe Grace would be the only one to be able to listen to his story and not judge him. He sighs heavily, looking at Grace for a moment before looking back at the field.
“In my home, the space station called Eden, there was a plot to destroy one of the other space stations that contained basically a third of humanity. I had a reputation back home of…disposing of people. A lot of them. But I couldn’t do this mission. I tried to chicken out, but it was too late by then. We were already on Filament - the other station - and my brothers were already heading to the station’s reactor. I was getting cold feet, we were to go down with the ship.” He continues, heart pounding in his chest, too afraid to look at Grace.
“I tried to tell them not to do it, that this would be too high of a body count, that we would die with them. But they didn’t give a fuck, they kept going. And turned heel and ran. I ran for my fucking life out of there, took the ship we used to get there and I escaped right before the reactor detonated, collapsing it and leaking radiation everywhere.” Simon murmurs, leaving the worst part unsaid; that no one survived except for him.
“Shortly after I got arrested and charged with the destruction of filament because they knew I was from Eden and I was out there. I guess they assumed I worked alone and just ran off in time. Wouldn’t listen to a goddamn thing I said then gave me a ‘choice’: serve jail time for life, or work for them briefly and walk free. Didn’t know it at the fucking time, but I was meant to die on that godforsaken mission.” Simon finishes, staring at the field, heart still pounding painfully in his chest.
Grace’s stare weighs heavier and heavier the longer it clings to him, but he can’t even bring himself to look at him, settling instead for fidgeting with his hand, yanking at a stray thread on his pants.
“That’s awful. I’m really sorry, Simon.” He murmurs, shocking Simon who whips his head around to stare at Grace, searching his expression. There was no pity, no fear, and no judgement. Just understanding and sympathy.
“I won’t pretend to understand why you had a high body count before that incident, we clearly are from entirely different existences.” He chuckles softly.
“But I do understand the rest. It was something bigger than yourself, you just wanted to live. What’s so wrong with that?” Grace says softly, looking back out at the field, sighing, still relaxing back on his hands. Simon stares at him, his eyes drink in Grace’s appearance. Skimming from that ruffled hair, down his face, shoulders, and drifting down his shockingly toned arms to stare at his hands - his left one just a few centimetres from Simon’s. Casual affection hadn’t been very uncommon on Eden, but he wasn’t sure about here, in whatever fucking dimension he was sharing with Grace. His hand aches, his entire body longing for just that little bit of comforting contact, to feel Grace’s warmth, to see if his body is as warm as his attitude.
Instead, he gently nudges his hand over, so they’re right next to each other, pressed together sharing warmth and contact, but not holding. Grace smiles over at him, and Simon feels his ears burn but he doesn’t return the look. His eyes follow the honeybee, watching as a lone wasp joins it. The wasp buzzes alongside it, not attacking like it usually might. Just flying along lazily, as if enjoying the moment.
Guy's I might be an evil genius, I just decided that Simon's mother's name is Mary (for my fic at least, also spoilers for my fic and it's upcoming chapter if anyone cares lol)
But like omg, in my fic Red Wine Supernova, Simon is reborn after dying to get the black box to the surface, but he doesn't remember any of that yet. The void pulled him in, repaired his ship, and spat him out close to the nearest human (Ryland Grace) to be saved. Simon grew up on Eden with the tree cult, his name is biblical it would make sense if his mother's was too, hence; Mary. She birthed a man who would be reborn after his death and would be the saviour of their people even if he ended up vanishing in their world.
It was genuinely just for a little "haha isn't that funny Simon's mother's name is Mary like the Hail mary it would be a fun little bit of angst" I added in while I was writing chapter two and now I'm like...omfg wait there's more layers lol
WIP of the cover I'm drawing for Red Wine Supernova <3 I wanted it to feel really intimate so I hope it comes across that way.
Grace putting his hand over Simon's heart because he admires how brave and determined Simon is - unlike Grace (how he feels). vs Simon putting his hand on Grace's face because he wants Grace to feel safe and loved by him.
(I used a reference for Simon's side profile it's by @pomodoko their art is very good plz go see it lol it'll look more my style once I get to the finishing touches)
After my Tod is Grace and Copper is Simon post this just felt right idk do I even need to explain this one? (I haven't read the book yet so I don't know how much she regretted it in the book)
But her lip shaking in the movie...she really didn't want to have to do it but she made the hard choice even if it hurt both of them. Eva Stratt you mean so much to me but you make my chest hurt </3
Yes, Eva Stratt is Widow Tweed; Isolated, keeping herself seperate from other people but made the difficult decisions because she knew they were the right decision and someone had to do it.
Why is she widowed you might ask? Well, earth was her husband.
The fate of two worlds hangs in the balance, and Ryland Grace still can't leave someone behind. Rocky and Grace's mission above Tau Ceti is derailed when the impossible happens, another human speaking over their communications. In a strange turn of events that neither Simon nor Grace understands, the two are thrust together. Two men who barely remember their past, were stripped of their autonomy and worse - their lives - find each other. But will they be able to get along?
OR
While fishing for Taumoeba on Adrian, Simon unintentionally intercepts their comms, and Grace being Grace is unable to leave him behind even if his submarine is in the vacuum of space. Against Rocky's judgement, Grace saves him and the two must remember their past to figure out their future together.
This follows the movie canon for both Project Hail Mary and Iron Lung, though some of the Iron Lung game lore is incorporated with a few theories I have. I am currently reading Project Hail Mary so that's why this only follows the movie canon for PHM. I might update it once I finish the book, we'll see I guess lol. Hope you enjoy!
Vibrant green swirls are dancing alongside vivid purples through Adrian’s atmosphere, all that Grace can hear is his own labored breathing in his helmet. The world below is something that would have frightened him if he didn’t know that the savior of both his and Rocky’s planets was in that atmosphere. He wants to appreciate the view more, to watch the planet unfiltered by Mary’s windows, but the hull of Mary is on fire. Showers of red and orange spark through the toxic green and he has to move faster.
“What problem, question?” Rocky’s worried voice speaks through Grace’s helmet.
“It’s fine, it’s just…the sky is slightly on fire.” Grace comments, his voice even as he attaches his lifeline to Mary, preparing to exit the craft.
“Words of encouragement!” Rocky chirps back, and Grace can’t help snorting a little.
“You can’t just say ‘words of encouragement.’” He replies, a little wryly.
“Words of great encouragement.” Rocky responds back.
“Nope.” Grace adds, a smile tugging at his lips despite the serious situation. His knees still feel wobbly as he tries very hard not to think about how large of a fall he was in for if many unfortunate coincidences happened. And he was always unlucky. Speaking of unlucky; as he looks ahead he feels his body tense and his blood run cold. There, ahead of Mary is a cyclone storming on the surface of Adrian. Not particularly close, but the sheer size of it and the speed of its rotation was enough to scare him.
“Collector is closed! Move winch into position.” Rocky announces, the relief palpable even in his computer voice. Grace braces himself then uses a chunk of metal to hammer at the winch, reeling back and almost tilting over when the links of the xenonite chain spurt out and the predator collector begins its ascension back to Mary. His stomach flips unpleasantly and he has to breathe slow and fast to not panic. The seconds tick by, though Grace is sure it must be pretty fast, the racing of his heart and his anxiety makes it feel like an eternity.
“How long is this supposed to take?” Grace asks nervously, a loud thunk as the collector hits the top of the pulley makes Grace cry out in shock and reel back.
“Collector should be here soon.” Rocky notes, and Grace nods.
“Yeah, it’s here.” He replies, grateful to move onto the final part of the fishing plan.
“Amaze, amaze, amaze!” Rocky exclaims, while Grace struggles with the attachment to get the collector off the pulley, gasping when it pops off and almost knocks him off balance, coming face to face with the neon green northern lights below.
“Careful. Predator collector important.” Rocky chastises him lightly and Grace has to remember his breathing for a moment to calm his racing heart.
“Yep.” He retorts stiffly, hugging the collector to his chest.
“Altitude warning.” Grace hears over the comms and he watches in horror as the Mary begins drifting low, terrifyingly low. His stomach dipping and groaning unpleasantly, feeling almost like gravity is trying to lift him off Mary.
“-anyone, please. Please, I don’t want to be here…! I’m done! I did what you wanted! Get me out of here!” An unknown but definitely human voice crackles through the communications, shocking Grace to his core as he freezes in place with the predator collector.
“What?”
“Who speaking?” Rocky and Grace both ask at the same time and Grace’s head starts whipping around, trying to see where there could possibly be a ship as he walks with the predator collector back to the bay as steadily as he can manage, his grip on the collector tight enough to bend steel.
“Who the fuck are you? Where’s Ava? I fucking told you my name already! Actually, never mind that, get me out!” The voice is aggressive and loud even through the static, undoubtedly human. Though Grace can’t help how he almost finds the confrontational anger so nostalgic for just a moment when he stills. There! He can see it, not even that far below them, caught in the winds and somehow being propelled up in a way that definitely did not make sense, but he chalks it up to the alien planet below them and the cyclone they’re getting steadily closer to.
“How are you in a submarine…?” Grace asks, aghast as he sees the most outdated submarine he’s pretty sure he’s ever seen in his life somehow floating in the atmosphere of Adrian amidst the storm. He remembered vaguely that it was possible for submarine’s to stay intact in space, but definitely not for long. How was this man still alive?
“I’m in a submarine,” the voice begins in a saccharine sweet tone, “because I got put here. By you.” The voice says, though there’s still venom in his voice, Grace can hear confusion, and budding fear. Grace is climbing up the side of Mary as the ship rumbles low, his hands shaking in his space suit as he tries to rush and form a plan at the same time.
“I didn’t put you anywhere, and if I did it certainly wouldn’t be on Tau Ceti in a submarine.” Grace says as calmly as he can manage as Mary groans and the shower of sparks intensifies.
“Grace come in, must leave. Get predator inside to study.” Rocky says, finally speaking. Grace tosses the predator collector into the open airlock, preparing to pull himself up with it.
He grips the airlock, ready to pull himself in, but he turns to look at the submarine. A stupid, reckless plan forms, and he can’t abandon this man.
“Rocky…” Ryland starts, his teacher voice slipping out as if talking to a child who he expects a tantrum from.
“No. No no no, no save new human. Grace too important. Mary and predator too important. Must go.” Rocky demands, making Ryland’s heart sink knowing he’s about to make Rocky very mad.
“Sorry buddy, we can’t leave him.” Grace murmurs, letting go of the bay and walking down the side of Mary again as even she groans in complaint of his actions. Rocky’s anger and complaints singing in his ears.
“What the fuck is going on? Is any of this even fucking real?” The man says, sounding suddenly terrified but it’s still mixed with anger and Grace feels himself grow very sympathetic to this man. Honestly? Grace wouldn’t trust him much with his own safety either.
“I’m going to try and rescue you, okay?” Grace says as kind as he can, walking on Mary as she shakes and groans loud enough to vibrate through him.
“No, no I don’t trust you. I fucking trusted someone before and, and…I don’t remember what happened.” The man’s voice breaks, making Grace’s heart ache in sympathy.
“But I woke up here, in this fucking place, and I can barely fucking see out my left eye. I can’t do that again, nothing you say can make me trust you.” He roars, making Grace flinch.
“Grace, human dangerous, please come inside where safe.” Rocky pleads, but Grace keeps walking.
“You’re on the surface of Tau Ceti, I don’t know how this submarine is doing it but I think you only have a matter of minutes before your ship is completely ruined. I can already see the hull caving in. You need to get out of it and get to me. Does your vessel have a deep sea diving suit?” Grace talks to the man, ignoring Rocky’s chant of ‘no no no’ as he does, talking in as calm a voice as he can manage.
“I…there’s a heavy metal diving suit, it looks old and outdated though.” The man says, his voice trembling in fear.
“But what if I don’t believe you? What if this isn’t real and you’re just that fucking thing fucking with me again?” The man demands, and Grace can hear the internal conflict fighting in the man’s voice. He has no idea what the “thing” he’s referring to is, but he doesn’t have time to unpack that right now if he wants them all to live through the next five minutes.
“Then you’ll die. I don’t know what this monster you’re talking about is, but I’m human. There’s no monsters to be seen. My friend you heard on the radio is friendly, too. Not a monster.” Ryland comforts him but leaves out that Rocky is an alien. He doesn’t have time to possibly scare him in case he thinks Rocky is this monster he's talking about. Grace pauses, staring out over the abyss as Mary groans and pieces of debris slide off her like barnacles being peeled off a boat.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.” The man sobs, and Grace can hear metal clanking through the static and relief washes over him, the man may not trust him, but he’s being forced to right now, and Grace is glad he isn’t resisting him anymore, because he absolutely doesn’t have that long. This man wants to live badly if he’s willing to trust Grace right now. That, or he can see and hear for himself how his submarine is minutes away from shredding apart. Maybe it’s both, if Grace wants to humour himself.
“Deep sea suits can’t fucking survive in space, you know that right?” The man demands, though his voice still has tremors, Grace can still hear noises that hopefully indicate he’s still putting it on.
“Yeah, yeah I know. Which is why I’m praying that that suit is reinforced enough to last you a minute, because that’s all I’ll need.” Grace says, working on his tether, tying a loop just below where it buckles to his suit.
“Grace hurry. Get inside, we cannot save human, he will die but Grace must live.” Rocky pleads, anxious chirps ringing in his ears along with the panicked robot voice.
“Can’t do that Rocky, I’m not abandoning him.” Grace says firmly, wondering yet again why the massive submarine is being spun around in the harsh winds below him, marvelling at how it’s not too far but not too close to the atmosphere.
“The plan is you’re going to have to trust me just a bit more, okay? I know this will sound sketchy.” Grace starts, and the man makes a disbelieving noise mixed with his panic.
“More? More than this?” He asks, aghast, and Grace chuckles without humour.
“Yeah I know, I’m being a jerk because you already are trusting me. But if you want to live, this is your best bet. I swear it.” Grace says, but continues before the man argues back, eating up more of his own precious time.
“Grace, no no no!”
“You’re going to have to jump, I will too, but you’re going to have to time this. I’ll tell you when I’m approaching the closest spot to you-”
“I can’t open this submarine from the inside.” The man shouts to be heard over Rocky’s panicking voice and Grace’s instructions, making him freeze. Looking down below them, as the submarine tilts, he sees a large “SM-13” on the side of the ship before it tilts back towards him.
“Well, fudge. That’s…not ideal. Okay, new plan. I jump, open that submarine, you grab onto me, and we haul our butts up to the Mary as fast as humanly possible.” Grace says, talking fast and he takes a single breath, waits a single beat and jumps before he can overthink this and before Rocky’s fear gets to him.
He breathes slow and deliberately, his heart hammering against his rib cage, his hands even more sweaty inside his space suit as he tries to flex them and relax them as he descends, not quite plummeting, but still moving fast. Thank you, microgravity.
“Grace must hurry, Mary is too low.” Rocky says, and Ryland knows he’s only talking calmly because he’s angry with Grace but is saving the lecture for later so Grace can focus. He grunts as his tether runs out, his feet slamming against the submarine, his knees following after and he groans as his knee sends sharp jolts of pain up his leg.
“Grace okay? Status update.” Rocky demands.
“I’m fine, Rock, promise. Just hit my funny bone a little.” He groans as he studies the submarine’s door.
“Not funny. Rocky will make Mary lift if Grace takes too long. I will save Grace if Grace cannot save human. Still have Earth to save.” Rocky continues, and Grace nods shakily.
“That’s not what I meant by funny, but I’ll explain later. Gimme just another minute, okay? I got this.” Grace says, looking for the unlocking mechanism on the door. The submarine is even more outdated than he thought and it completely confounds him that somehow this thing is still holding up, but he can address that later once the man is out and alive. He groans as he pushes against the hatch, the cheap metal gives with barely any push and it squeaks as it spins. The entire submarine quaking underneath him.
“Twenty seconds.” Rocky warns, and Grace moves faster, a bit reckless in his panic.
“Get ready, I’m opening the door, okay?” Grace says, and he hears clunking from inside the submarine.
“Just fucking do it.” The man says, his voice muffled from what must be the deep sea helmet. He pauses for just a single moment, looking up at the tether leading back to Mary and nodding, trying to feel more certain of his plan.
He pulls the door with a groan, as the air escapes it it slams the door wide open.
“Grace!” Rocky cries as the momentum sends Grace spinning out of control until he grabs the tether, slowing his movement and stopping his spinning but now he’s swinging away from the submarine. At the door he sees the man, well, sort of. He sees the deep sea suit, the man presumably stumbling inside of it as he moves his entire torso to look up at where Grace is just a few feet away - the distance growing.
“You’re going to have to jump!” Grace yells, hoping the speaker might still carry his voice but if not, he waves his hands, gesturing to the man.
The man stares at him as the submarine lights dim and as Mary groans louder, portions of the hull on the fuel bays are turning red, the metal thinning, and when Grace looks back at the submarine, he sees it twitching and crushing in on itself like a foot crushing a soda can.
“Grace, come back!” Rocky cries in his ear, but Grace refuses - he’s too close now to give up - and he starts waving to the man again. The man braces, then jumps untethered into the atmosphere to where Grace is now six feet away. Grace extends his arm, and there’s a terrifying moment when Grace’s ears are ringing. He’s unable to hear anything, holding his breath until the man collides with him and he groans as he struggles to keep the man’s weight to him, grateful suddenly for the random muscles he attained while in his coma.
“Thank you Armando.” He mutters, but his heart is pounding fast, the blood in his veins racing as he puts the man’s hand on the loop of the tether and he starts to climb. The climb is easy and fast like he predicted, microgravity aiding them as they both scramble like madmen up the tether. A few times the man slips or fumbles with his limited vision, and Grace has to grab him and put his hand back on the tether as his pulse pounds in his ear. Each pulse feels like his body keeping the time on how long this man has left to live.
“Go go go go go!” Rocky chants fearfully as they crawl, rapidly closing the distance in their desperation. Grace keeps looking at the man next to him, needing to make sure he’s okay - that he didn’t endanger them all just to lose him at the last moment. There are cracks in the glass he’s looking through, the metal is collapsing slowly and Grace can see fractures slowly leaking what little air the man has.
As they approach the airlock, Grace checks on him again. He sees that the man’s joints are no longer working properly, the suit’s weak points collapsing quickly. Grace gets his hand on the airlock threshold, nearly sobbing with relief before he grabs the man and shoves him up first into the airlock with the predator collector unceremoniously.
He and the man collapse in the airlock, the Mary is shaking still rumbling, the entire ship’s groans vibrating through his bones. He shuts the airlock door, letting it pressurize before he opens the inner door, grabbing the man’s suit and throwing the head off for him just to make sure he’s still alive. Then he stumbles through the door, rushing to the cockpit and he leaves the man in the corridor. The man had looked shaken, eyes wide and looking at Grace but he didn’t seem injured. Now Grace can focus on making sure they all don’t die because of him. He tears off his own helmet as he nears the cockpit.
“Grace okay, question?” Rocky demands, there’s a sharpness there in his musical notes but he’s still checking on him, and Grace can’t help feeling just a bit moved.
“Well, I’m not dead, so yes.” He says, groaning as he climbs in the cockpit with the predator collector, buckling it into one of the pilot seats.
“Where is that noise coming from?” Grace asks, trying to assess the damage and the risk of the Mary collapsing.
“Noise is from all around!” Rocky calls, as his body looks around to see everywhere.
“It’s loudest at port side of bedroom.” Rocky reports and Grace’s blood cools as he realizes.
“The gravity’s tearing the ship apart!” Grace gasps, flipping switches and steeling himself.
“We finally leave now, question?” Rocky stamps one of his limbs, impatient and nervous.
“We leave now. Statement.” Grace retorts, settling into the pilot seat and using every ounce of determination he possesses to will it into being. With a nod and a look at Rocky to make sure he’s ready, Grace pulls back on the flight stick, the engines roar while the ship bursts into action and he focuses only on their path as he looks out the window.
“Hull pressure warning. Warning.” Mary states.
“Hull bending in big room below bedroom.” Rocky adds.
“That’s the fuel tanks!” Grace says, glancing over at Rocky.
“Oh. Bad, bad, bad.” Rocky says, stomping his feet again and Grace nods, gulping but maintaining his focus.
“Well, it’s not great.” He responds dryly, and the computer and Rocky are both speaking over each other, the computer relaying information and Rocky panicking. Neither doing much to help with Grace’s own emotional state at that moment.
“Okay everybody calm down. Calm down!” He yells to be heard as Mary follows along the planet’s curve, still steadily rising.
“Try and keep yourself together, Mary.” Grace says, encouraging the computer even if it has no consciousness.
“Stop engine now?” Rocky interjects.
“Not yet. We need to get into orbit or we’ll crash!” Grace says over the rumbling of Mary and the rockets, the cockpit lighting up with the same toxic green that still unnerved and amazed him.
Grace gasps when the man he rescued stumbles into the room, unsteady on his feet.
“What the fuck is going on?” He asks, fully out of the metal suit now, wearing clothing that Grace had never seen anything like before and…he’s missing an arm? Well, that explained why he had such a hard time climbing the tether. Mary groans and jolts and he doesn’t have time to address it.
“Sit in a seat and buckle up or grab something.” Grace says, bracing himself.
“I have an idea. First, no crash. Then, not explode. Deal?” Rocky ignores the man, clearly still not happy but Grace can’t really even blame him. The man falls back into the hallway as Mary shakes before re-entering.
“Deal!” Grace says, giving Rocky his thumbs down.
“Hold on tight.” Grace calls to the man since he hasn’t made it to a seat yet. Instead, the man holds onto the closest handles in the cockpit he can reach, his expression as terrified as Grace feels, but Grace knows he’s the one in charge right now. If they see how scared he is, it’ll only make their own fear worse.
“Now?” Rocky asks, Grace shakes his head.
“Wait.” Grace says, and as Mary reaches higher, Rocky asks again;
“Now? Now?” The Mary flies for another few seconds and Grace nods.
“Now!” He yells, letting go of the flight stick, reaching up and flipping several switches as the Mary quiets, the ship drifting. The engines are cut off now, the silence almost comforting after the last ten minutes. Grace looks over at Rocky, seeing him floating there as he keeps his own hands raised and then looks back out the window.
“Did we do it?” He asks hopefully, turning slightly in his seat to see if the man was alright as he sits on the uneven floor, his clothes floating off him slightly as he clutches the handle with white knuckles.
Grace doesn’t look too long, heart still racing with anxiety as he looks around, waiting to find out if he screwed this up or not. His brain chants ‘we’re okay, we’re okay’ as he assesses. A thunk draws his attention and when he looks, the seatbelt of his chair is hanging limp, not floating. He frowns, and when he hears another clink now he looks over to see Rocky dropping his sensor. It dropped. Oh, no.
Grace is pulled to the side, rolling down the cockpit on his chair, groaning as he catches himself before he hits the window. The mystery man cries out as he’s thrown to the side too, but his grip saves him from falling as far as Grace.
“What the fuck is happening?” The man yells out, having a hard time holding on as the muscles in his arms strain.
“There’s a hole in the ship!” Grace yells as Mary resumes her quaking under them.
“Hull breach, Port side. Compartments 11 and 12.” The ship blares and Grace maneuvers as best as he can on the swiveling pilot’s chair as he flips switches, getting ready to eject the fuel bays.
“What happening, question?” Rocky demands fearfully and it makes Grace’s heart clench for all of them as he continues swiveling.
“The fuel is migrating to Adrian!” Grace cries, moving one of the ship’s cameras to look at the molten red spot in Mary that the Astrophage is being pulled out of.
“Eject bad fuel bay, question?” Rocky adds helpfully as the man is thrown to the other side of the cockpit. Grace can’t react in time as the man falls and cracks his head on the edge of the seat he hadn’t been able to get into, falling limp and Grace winces in sympathy as he reaches for more switches, unable to help with their lives in danger.
“Yeah.” He answers Rocky’s question, flipping a few red switches.
“Jettison port fuel tank compartment 12, confirm.” Mary states, the force of the spinning ship makes Grace feel like his entire body is being pulled painfully away from the switch. He screams as he pushes himself to reach it, Rocky’s terrified cries fuelling him. A loud boom and a soft rumble tells him it worked as he manages to press the button, the fuel bay bursting from the side of Mary into open space. The ship lurches dangerously, Rocky, Grace and the man being tossed and Grace gasps when he hears Rocky’s pain filled cries
“Rocky!” He yells, watching his friend try to stand helplessly in his tunnels.
“Jettison port fuel tank compartment 11, confirm.” Mary’s voice cuts through the chaos and Grace groans, forcing himself to reach it again, his blood feeling like it weighs a ton.
“Eject other fuel bay!” Rocky cries, and Grace can’t even reply as he concentrates on staying awake, he manages to press the eject button as a similar rumble from Mary sends fuel bay 11 flying away. Mary lurches one direction as the Astrophage is no longer propelling it as hard, and his seat eases up. He’s about to be relieved, his brain telling him to set up the centrifugal gravity system when his chair launches forward. An explosion of pain blooms above his eyebrow, he can’t even scream in agony before his consciousness fades.
Rocky chitters and cries for him, greeting Grace as his eyes flutter open. His damaged brain manages to remember what he needs to do as he lifts his arm, trying through the haze of unbearable pain, the immense pressure of the chair and the spinning Mary to just flip that switch. It’s so close, but his arm moves like a stone up the console of Mary. Red lights are flashing and he’s sure there’s alarms blaring but he can’t hear a thing through the cotton in his ears. A groan is wrenched from his mouth as he exerts himself, managing to flip one switch, and as his hand crawls towards the centrifugal gravity system, his eyes drift to Rocky. C’mon, he encourages himself, his muddy brain reminding him that he needs to do this or they’ll spin erratically through space unable to stop.
Rocky chitters and cries, his head knocking into his tunnel and Grace manages to move another inch, almost there, then the darkness at the edge of his vision crowds his eyesight. He has just enough time to wonder if he somehow got Astrophage in his eyes before everything vanishes.
‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹
Grace’s eyes slowly open, looking around at the red flashing through Mary, there’s something over his mouth. He looks desperately for Rocky, realizing slowly that he’s in the med bay. He turns his head, seeing the mystery man in the bed next to him. There’s a searing burn on Grace’s arm, and with the man lying unconscious next to him, he knew who brought them there.
He finally spots Rocky, his eyes widening slightly and terror clamps down on his throat as he sees smoke billowing from his friend, and sees the gashes across his body. Grace hears Rocky’s pained song as he lays limply on the floor and Grace tries to reach for him, tries to move to him. But his traitorous body won’t do a damn thing as his consciousness is torn from him again, Armando keeping him strapped there.
‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹
…
“Can I think about it?”
“You have three hours.”
Grace wakes with a jolt, the voices fading like ripples over still water. His brain returns to the present, leaving behind a memory that vanishes save for a bad taste lingering in the back of his mind. For a single moment, he can’t remember what happened.
Rocky. He needs to see Rocky. The throbbing in his arm and head are persistent, but he fights it off as best as he can while he sits up with tremendous effort, but once he’s vertical, the hard part is over.
He takes a moment to steady himself, shaking off the horrible deja vu and looking over at the rubble left behind by Rocky, his heartbeat spikes in speed while his hands grow clammy.
With a start he sees the bed next to him is actually occupied, he had forgotten for a moment about the man he rescued. The man lays there, a mask over his face like Grace’s and a hole in his pant leg with a bandage under it. A burn…? Grace connects the dots with a growing sense of dread, Rocky’s environment is unbearably hot for humans, meaning he would be, too. Despite not being happy that Grace had risked himself for this mystery human, he had done the exact same thing. Grace’s eyes well as he stumbles off the bed and out of the med bay.
Seeing the trail of dust and ash that must have come from Rocky instills a crushing feeling in his chest that grows heavier with each step. Please be alive. Please be alive. He walks slowly, rounding the corner from his “Don’t go Crazy Room” into the hall where Rocky’s tunnels were most prevalent, and he sees Rocky’s still form back in his tunnels. His eyes water, glad at least that he hadn’t disintegrated completely, but he was still terrified he wasn’t okay. He pauses, bracing himself before stepping closer to see him better.
Rocky lays lifeless and sprawled in his tunnel, grey wounds across his body that hadn’t been there before. Grace gasps for air, finally breathing easier when Rocky moves, having noticed him finally. Grace presses his hands to Rocky’s tunnel, kneeling down with a soft groan of pain as he looks at Rocky closely. Rocky seems to be doing the same to him.
“I’m so sorry, buddy. I couldn’t leave him behind, I risked everything.” Grace whispers, though he couldn’t regret saving the life of that man, he was still close to tears seeing what his decision had done to not just himself but Rocky, too. Rocky’s body seems to relax, and his musical chirps ring softly through his tunnels.
Grace’s glassy eyes fill even more, but he nods.
“I’ll watch you sleep, pal.” He murmurs, looking away and fidgeting as he tries to keep his tears at bay.
“But, uh…you gotta wake up.” Grace adds softly, and when Rocky goes still, Grace can’t bear to move. Can barely stand to look away as he sits by Rocky. Gently, he knocks on the tunnel a few times, wondering if maybe Rocky will be able to hear even as he sleeps. He doesn’t respond, and logically Grace knows that of course he won’t, he’s asleep. But it still guts him.
‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹
“I’m not sure what to do…” Grace murmurs, staring into the camera and runs his hand over his face.
“We found a humanoid alien…in fact, he’s so humanoid I’m not even sure he’s an alien, but there’s no way a man in a submarine could make it to Tau Ceti.” Grace muses, thinking aloud more than anything now.
“I’ve…done everything I can think of for Rocky, I made him a heat lamp…” Grace murmurs, his hands running through his hair now, his glasses tucked into his shirt.
“It’s been days, the man we saved is still out. I checked on him, he has a little bump on his temple - must be what knocked him out - and he’s covered in burns. They look pink, like they’re freshly healed.” Grace holds up a whiteboard with a crude outline of a man’s body, the left side of his face, his left arm and left leg are circled.
“His left arm is gone all the way up to his shoulder joint, I can’t tell from what. There’s heavy scarring from burns, and the left side of his face is burned too. I’m not even sure he can see out of his left eye.” Grace sighs, shaking his head.
“I don’t know how he ended up in space, and when we were talking on the radio, it seemed like he had no idea either. Though he reminded me of myself a little, it seemed like he couldn’t remember - not that he didn’t know at all.” Grace sighs heavily now.
“But that’s speculation. I could be way off and I’m sure he’ll tell me I am when he wakes up…if he does. Which actually reminds me, I was going to remove all the scalpels from the medical bay in case he gets aggressive when he wakes up.” Grace laughs but there’s not much energy in it. He stares at the camera for a moment, his hands steepled and holding his chin, rubbing idly at his stubble.
“I hope they both wake up soon. It was nice having someone to talk to, and when I heard that man on the radio I was excited to hear from another human. But now they’re both silent.” He sighs heavily, mussing his hair and putting his glasses back on as he stands, turning off the camera. His leg jiggles up and down anxiously, unable to relax in the silence he wasn’t accustomed to anymore.
His mind wanders, remembering when he had inspected the strange man. He hadn’t invaded his privacy of course, just unzipped his shirt or rolled up pant legs to inspect any damage and had been met with burn scars that were gnarled and freshly healed. He did admit that he did spend a little too much time checking his pulse and blood pressure. Just the simple skin on skin from pressing his fingers to the man’s neck and seeing his face asleep and peaceful felt like an itch being scratched. It had made Grace realize that he was really seeing another person, that another human being was on board Mary with him for the first time since he had ejected Yáo and Ilyukhina. Whenever he was nervous or scared for Rocky he found himself walking to the man’s bedside, just talking with him, explaining to him everything that he and Rocky were studying. Just desperate to be around a human, around him.
Despite how angry and frightening the man was, Grace found comfort in him even if that made no sense. He would sit and think for hours about how they had met, how he had mentioned a monster and not trusting Grace at first because the man thought he was being tricked. Something had been going on with him, and Grace was dying of curiosity to know.
Days pass of this, Grace going between ensuring the Taumoeba are breeding properly, sitting in front of Rocky for hours, going to see the mystery man and talk about nothing, then going to sleep next to Rocky. He’s walking to the med bay, genuinely beginning to feel a gut churning fear that neither of the two would ever wake again when he hears a crash in the med bay in front of him.
Grace freezes, then his legs move before his brain catches up as he sprints the last few meters to the medical room, throwing open the door as he was almost ready to burst into tears from sheer relief.
“You’re awake-” Grace freezes, the man was holding a scalpel to his throat and shoving Grace into the wall of the med bay, the look in his eyes murderous. Grace was shocked not only by the action but at how deftly the man pinned him and held the scalpel to his flesh with his one arm. Grace kicks himself internally for forgetting to remove the scalpels and his heart tattoos a fast rhythm into his ribs.
“What-”
“You better get explaining.” The man says in a dangerously low voice, his shaggy black hair getting in his face and really just making him even more intimidating.
Grace remembers with horror that the man had been knocked out before he could explain even a single thing to him. He had hoped that the man would hear him in his coma, but that had just been wishful thinking.
“About the mission? The ship?” Grace asks, desperate to clear things up, but the man shocks him by rolling his eyes and scoffing.
“Please, I heard enough about that already.” He mocks, and Grace’s mouth falls slack. The man had heard him? Then what did he want an explanation of? Why did it sting that the man seemed annoyed about Grace’s conversations with him?
“I don’t understand. You heard me explain everything, what more do you-” He’s cut off as the scalpel slices gently into his neck and he tenses, trying to move away but his back is to the med bay wall.
“I didn’t hear everything, but I heard enough to understand why you’re here. What I don’t understand is that.” The man growls, nodding his head towards the med bay window and Grace can only move his eyes to look. There’s nothing out the window, nothing worth mentioning at least, just stars.
“I still don’t understand.” Grace whispers, his fear spiking and his hands shake. The man looks at him incredulously, like he doesn’t understand a single word of what Grace is saying now.
“I’m asking you what happened to the stars? When did they get back?” He shouts in Grace’s face, making him flinch but the scalpel doesn’t dig deeper.
“Nothing happened to the stars! Aren’t you from Earth?” Grace asks, eyes wide open, his glasses askew on his nose from being pushed against the wall. The man’s face twists, adding confusion to the anger.
“What? I’m not from Earth. I was born on fucking Mars, raised on Eden.” The man says, searching Grace’s face for something, but apparently not finding what he’s looking for.
“I’m Simon.” The man says, like his name is one that Grace should recognize. Still, Grace looks afraid, not understanding anything he’s saying.
“Is Eden another planet? I know Mars.” He asks, and for whatever reason, this seems to knock the wind out of Simon’s sails. Grace feels a little thrill go through him when he realizes he finally knows his name. Simon. ‘God has heard,’ interesting.
“No…no it isn’t.” Simon whispers, the scalpel dropping to the floor with a clink and Simon reels back and stumbles to the window.
“Hey, what-” Grace starts to walk after him, to offer him help or to answer him. But freezes when Simon makes it there himself, staring out at the stars and weeping openly. Grace stands there, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding on a deeply personal moment as he looks down at the scalpel, quietly grabbing it and hiding it up high on a shelf where it wouldn’t be visible.
“This…this is real, right?” Simon whispers, Grace almost doesn’t catch it because of how quiet he is, but he walks closer tentatively.
“Yes, this is real.” Grace says in a soft and caring tone, talking to Simon like he’s a cornered animal. In some ways, Grace could already see that being the case.
“This is real…” Simon whispers, holding the window ledge so tight his knuckles go white. Grace is just opening his mouth to say something back when Simon plummets backwards. Grace races forward, making it just in time to catch him before he hits the ground and Grace curses himself, forgetting how difficult it was for him to stay awake when he had first come out of his coma. Grace grunts, dragging Simon back to the bed he was in with a little help from Armando. When Simon is laying on his bed, sleeping calmly, Grace can’t stop staring at him, hope and relief taking turns bursting in his chest like fireworks.
Guys it hit me like a bolt from the blue how similar these two are walk with me I beg
Tod is Grace the red fox; a gentle playful soul hurt by the world, hunted and chased. Raised in comfort then plunged into an unfamiliar environment by someone who had to make a hard choice for him - stripping him of autonomy.
Copper is Simon the hunting hound; raised in a completely different world than Tod who was unfamiliar with death and loss. He was honed into a weapon, chained and raised to kill. His autonomy was taken from him in an entirely different way that he couldn't see until he opened his eyes.
Okay I finally was able to watch Iron Lung (albeit in terrible quality, it never came to the theatre where I live) and I have many ideas about Simon. So Simon we know is referred to as the Butcher, meaning he has killed many people, and I believe that I know why he killed them. So from the Lore we learn about Space Stations Filament and Eden, Eden being the largest station orbiting Mars, and home to the only trees left in the universe. Their philosophy? Peace in death.
(I'm watching the "Iron Lung: Complete Lore and Story Breakdown" on YouTube if anyone wants to see what I'm referencing from) and to preface I know that the game isn't in the same continuity as the movie but I do know they share a lot of similar lore so I'm threading a few of the connections that make sense through both.
So, we learn from the movie that Simon has murdered a lot of people, and I wanted to understand why, and while watching the video it felt like it clicked. The convicts who were sent down in the Iron Lung were those part of a justice system where people pay for their crimes through public service. In this case; dying in a submarine where they can't escape and disappearing. If they're lucky, they might find something worth bringing them back up. In the case of movie Simon, he was sent there for his apparent involvement for the destruction of Filament Station.
The Iron Lung seems to be the most extreme "public service" a convict can take part in, as it was redacted from the COI's files found in the Iron Lung's terminal talking about the said public service, and mentioned in the note from the previous convict. This implies that the previous convict and Simon are guilty of the same crime (even though Simon isn't) which is the destruction of Filament station.
The previous convict also mentions that he is choosing freedom by going beyond the veil and letting his oxygen run out, not giving into the panic the COI wants the convicts to feel, and embracing death. Similarly, the final achievement of the game is "Beyond The Veil" after the player dies, connecting the previous convict and the player even more. I don't know if maybe I'm just connecting canon dots and the fandom has already figured this out as I'm new into Iron Lung since I could only just watch the movie, but I feel like this is a really cool connection.
In the movie we find out the same guy who called Simon a butcher and brother is the same man who left the note saying to cross the wires, due to a quote from the movie that he's "just the guy who told you to cross the wires." And how the two characters have the same actor according to IMDB. So we know the convicts are connected, and we know that they're sent there for their involvement on Filament Station, what does this have to do with death and murder? Well, given the way that the previous convict talks about death and going beyond the veil, and their connection to Eden who preaches that life doesn't really seem to be worth living. I think that Eden was stirring up all that drama with Filament station despite there being so few humans left because they believe that death is the escape from the hell they're in.
Simon went against Eden, Simon's only drive is wanting to live, something that sharply contrasts everyone else who has a cause that is worth dying for: Ava, the previous convict, and the other people from Eden who died on Filament. Simon couldn't go through with his mission and tried to tell them not to do it, implying their plan was to go down with the ship (maybe directly stating, I don't remember lol) and Simon refused to do it, ending up in the Iron Lung instead.
The people of Eden believe death is liberation, and judging from Simon's quote (not verbatim): "What's more likely? The whole universe disappears, or just a few space stations?" Growing up on Eden I think that he was taught that death is liberation, that maybe through death they can finally reach peace from the hellish life they're thrust in, or that through death they can return to where they were, either way: Death is liberation. Going beyond the veil (and into whatever lays there) leads to peace and freedom.
So, as a young boy raised in a cult, Simon murdered in the cults name, liberating people from the horrible life they were doomed to live with the remainder of humanity. Something happened along the way to make Simon stop believing this, and start wanting to live. Maybe just the fear of death in the face of it (suicide on Filament Station) or something else. Eden Space Station's mission is to end the remainder of humanity, and Simon revolted. Is it so bad, wanting to live?
He reneges on the teachings, just to get stuck in the Iron Lung and still choose to fight for himself. But he has care, compassion, he always did. He didn't kill for satisfaction or blood lust, he killed because he truly believed he was doing what was best for them. He apologizes multiple times to Ava, Jack and co for blasting them with radiation, he feels remorse for his actions, he feels anger at his ex-comrades. He has always been kind in his beliefs and was only just breaking free from the cult when he's sunk deep under the ocean of blood, still trying to live and forsake everyone else. Until he comes face to face with death again, and finally chooses death and subsequently; humanity.
I hope this made sense to others, and if it was said before somewhere else I didn't see so feel free to tell me if I'm totally wrong or if someone else said it first, I just really love this movie, I wish I could have seen it in theatre.
Steve’s feet crunches against the gravel, the address Eddie had given Robin not being too far from his own house, Robin convincing him to leave his car, lest he give in and have a few drinks. But the thought of becoming so much as tipsy made him nauseous, so he doubts that’ll happen.
“Steve, seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. I know you lost interest in parties, but I still want to hang out with you and do fun things outside of making fun of you in Family Video. Don’t you?” She has her best convincing-Steve-to-do-something-he-doesn’t-want-to-do voice activated, and Steve sighs, not answering her. They’ve only taken another few steps in silence before Robin slows to a stop, and Steve turns to look at her, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Steve, are we…good? Because now would be a really great time to mention if we aren’t.” Robin asks, her voice a tad huskier than usual accompanied by a slight tremor. Steve feels a stab of guilt shoot through him and turns to face her, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, of course. Things are fine between us, Rob. Don’t worry. I just - I don’t…parties just aren’t my thing anymore.” He manages, stumbling over his words and he looks at Robin, silently begging her to understand. Her eyes soften, some sort of understanding dawning in her eyes that makes Steve feel squirmy and self conscious. She reaches out, smiling as comfortingly as she can, and pats his arm a few times. She doesn’t say anything else, just watching him and waiting for him to explain more. Steve suddenly feels like a child who can’t articulate his feelings, and he feels his face burn.
He points at his neck, where his impossible to hide scars stand out, even in the dim light of the street. They weren’t so bad now, a thin line with dark pink raised skin starting just before his chin and fading halfway across his neck, just to resume on the other side. They weren’t so gruesome now unless you looked too close, but fresh, they had looked terrible. He had worn bandages around his neck for months after they had healed, just from the anxiety it gave him to leave them uncovered. The stares he got, the whispers. For a while people had speculated that he had attempted to hang himself, some had even approached him to ask if Eddie Munson had done it since they had seen Steve hanging out with “The Freak.” Thankfully, his abdominal scars weren’t seen by the casual viewer, though the side effect was Steve hadn’t gotten laid in quite some time.
“It’s kind of hard to feel comfortable going out with these, especially with drunk people who ask or say anything that comes to mind.” He laughs a little, hoping his joke deflects some from the bigger part of the truth that made him feel squirmy and ashamed. Robin’s face softens as she looks Steve in the eye, her hand still on his arm. His body feels too hot, and his stomach feels squirmy. From her expression, she didn’t seem to believe him fully.
“I don’t think you need to be ashamed of them, Steve. Sure, some people might find them offputting, but on the bright side, you get to find out immediately who isn’t worth your time! Seems like a nice power to have.” Robin says with a small grin, and Steve nods. But he just can’t get his face to ease up, making Robin’s concerned look return, her smile fading.
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” She asks tentatively and Steve groans, looking away down the dark street. They were within sight of the party now, there were a few cars piled up in front of a house with music so loud that he could hear it from here, the lights were going crazy and he wished that that same sight brought him a sense of excitement like it used to.
“Remember when we were drugged and beaten up by Russians? Yeah, the appeal of being anything even resembling drugged up has been sort of lost. I don’t like not being in control, Robin.” Steve says, pleading with his eyes for Robin to understand, and she’s just opened her mouth to say something when Steve presses on anxiously, using his hands to gesticulate now. He feels like he needs more than just that explanation, like the concern in her eyes was overriding his ability to stay quiet and he needed to keep explaining. To get that look off her face. He knew he was, as Robin often said; word-vomiting. And now he understands what she meant when she said that she wanted to stop but couldn’t.
“Not even just that, hell. I’ve rarely had a good experience around drunk people, or anything related to drugs. Nancy tore my heart out a few years ago while drunk, I - we - got drugged by Russians, Eddie Munson the drug dealer almost killed me with a beer bottle last year. Every time I even try to drink for fun I always end up going over the edge. As soon as I get so much as tipsy, I start spiralling and panicking, like I’m back in that bunker. Or like those kids are in danger and need help and I can’t do anything about it-” He cuts himself off, Robin’s look of sympathy already became one of pity and he didn’t want to keep dumping his problems all over his best friend. Especially not on the side of some random sidewalk for anyone else to hear. She watches him curiously for a moment or two, before glancing down at the sidewalk and huffing out a breath of air, seeming to make up her mind about something.
“Listen, Steve. I get it, it’s okay to not be alright after that bullshit we went through. I just don’t want you to become…I don’t know, a recluse. Hiding out in that frankly depressing house of yours mostly alone. I wanted to give you your space for a while, I thought that you’d bounce back and go back to partying again, or do something. But you haven’t - which is fine, might I add,” Robin says quickly, raising her hands up in surrender before Steve gets defensive, “but I got worried, Nance was worried too. I mean, you even had Eddie asking me about you. And I figured, what the hell, I’ve graduated high school without going to a single party. I might as well try it out, and I want to bring Steve. You know, my best friend ever? I think you’ve heard of him. Great hair, conventionally attractive jock?” A slow grin builds on Robin’s lips, giving Steve a significant look. A sense of warmth invades his chest and he can’t help but smile wryly.
“You don’t need to lay it on thick, I’m still going, Rob. I just don’t want to drink much. Or try anything.” This seems to put Robin at ease, which in turn makes Steve feel that much better as they continue walking.
“Don’t worry, if you really can’t stand it, just say the word and we can leave.” Robin grins at him, a skip in her step and Steve nods, feeling some of the tension in his chest loosen.
“Only if you swear, Buckley.” Steve teases, and Robin pauses walking, drawing a cross over her heart and holding out her pinkie, her eyes wide and sincere almost comically.
“Cross my heart, hope to die. And, pinky promise.” Robin grins, her eyes practically twinkling and Steve rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, but his lips twitch and he wraps his pinky around hers with a grin.
“Good. Now let’s get this party virgin to her first sketchy house party.” He laughs as Robin makes a face of disgust at the term, though she’s laughing too.
“Gross, Steve!”
♝♡♘
Although they were arriving at about 12am, Steve feels a little more at ease. He hopes it’s a quieter party than he initially thought. At least he had hope, until he and Robin walk in and he sees that it’s packed.
“Oh, this’ll be fun.” Steve mutters sarcastically, and Robin rolls her eyes at him. It wasn’t until he spots Nancy - and sees Robin rush to greet her - that Steve realizes she had wanted him to go so she could hang out with Nancy without her self-appointed “word vomit” ruling most of their interactions. Steve had to admit, he was grateful for the opportunity to tease her relentlessly later about them. After Rob had found out about Vickie’s boyfriend, they had become good friends, but it had never progressed beyond that. Though at first he was a little weirded out when Robin finally admitted she was crushing on his ex-girlfriend Nancy Wheeler, he had grown to see their compatibility and genuinely wished her luck.
“Told you I’d manage to get Steve out of his house. Cough it up, Wheeler.” Robin smirks a little at Nancy, holding her hand out while doing an impression of Steve. He frowns in response, holding out a hand while the other rests on his hip.
“I’m sorry, what am I missing here?” Steve asks, though he was catching on now.
“Wait, you bet each other, about whether I would come to this or not? And you bet I wouldn’t?” Steve looks between them, pretending to be outraged and he focuses on Nancy with mock offense as she hands a five dollar bill over to Robin. She gives Steve a pretend scathing look in return.
“Not just us, Eddie did too. He thought you wouldn’t come, either.” Robin interrupts before Nancy can get a word in, and Steve’s eyebrows raise further, putting a hand to his chest, clutching pearls that aren’t there.
“You know, that’s real nice. And here I thought my friends were genuinely just missing poor Steve, and wanting to get him out of the house so he could have fun. I’m hurt you two, real hurt.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head slowly at them. He feels an arm snake around his shoulders and the back of his neck, a lanky hand with long fingers and familiar chunky metal rings coming into view and Steve jumps a little in surprise.
“C’mon now, don’t be so mean to poor Harrington. You bet on whether he would or wouldn’t come?” He shakes his head and clucks his tongue as he smoothly makes it look like he had no part in it, his face a mask of mock outrage on Steve’s behalf. Though Steve watches Eddie’s hand slide under his jacket and vest just to emerge with the edge of a folded bill visible before it passes to Robin.
“Uh huh, and what was that, Eddie? You bet he wouldn’t come either.” Nancy smirks, although Steve watches her eye Eddie's arm around Steve with curiosity, meeting Steve’s eyes before he looks away a little too quickly. For some reason it made him a tiny bit uncomfortable, the way her sharp eyes looked between them. But he didn’t move from Eddie’s arm, though he wasn’t quite sure why, his heart was beating quicker and the contact felt oddly comforting.
Steve winces slightly when he sees the bruise on Eddie’s jaw has deepened to a purple and he feels a flash of guilt pump through him.
“Damn, that looks terrible, does it still hurt?” Steve asks hesitantly, and Eddie laughs, brushing it off.
“I can hardly feel it, don’t sweat it, Harrington.” He says but he seems pleased that Steve asked.
“And <i>someone</i> had to bet against Robin, I bet he wasn’t going to come before you joined the deal.” Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie continues, and he can hear Eddie’s telltale grin pull at his lips as his arm slides off Steve, making Steve shiver, feeling a little cold without it.
“While I adore this friendly banter, I’m very, very parched. Who’s coming with me to grab a drink?” Robin cuts in before Steve can add anything.
“I’ll go with you.” Nancy says casually, and as they walk away together, Steve watches with amusement as Robin excitedly chatters about drunk accident statistics and how she’s glad Steve would stay sober.
Shaking his head, amused, Steve realizes he’s alone with Eddie again. His heart rate picks up and he feels nervous energy crackling inside him again.
They stand together for a moment in awkward silence as Steve looks around at everything except Eddie. Eventually though, the tension gets too thick so he glances over when he sees Eddie was already appraising him. But Steve is too taken off guard to notice, with proper posture, Eddie actually is a bit taller than him.
One of Eddie’s hands is tucked near his face with his fingers over his lips, he almost looks surprised when Steve makes eye contact with him, and rushes to look away, his familiar smile sliding into place.
“What’re you staring at me for, Munson?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking a little. But he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. A jolt had gone through him like lightning when their eyes had met, now he felt like he was jittery with the leftover tension.
“So, we’re friends, are we?” Eddie asks, his smile growing as he looks back at Steve, and he feels his face heat.
“Jesus, that’s why you were staring at me? Because I referred to you guys as my friends?” He laughs and uses the opportunity to face Eddie while also taking a step back for some distance.
“Considering you nearly died along with the rest of us, I’d say that makes you a friend in my books. Besides, I already said you were my friend when we were at work and you didn’t care.” Steve looked at Eddie for a moment in indignation, shaking his head, but Eddie seemed to sense the playful tone to it since he bumped Steve’s hips with his.
“You did but you ran away before I could say anything.” Eddie laughs and Steve flushes with embarrassment, not wanting to admit that Eddie was right. Somehow it made it worse that Eddie had known he had run away before Eddie could properly say anything about it. He supposed that he had hoped Eddie wouldn’t think it was a big deal and leave it.
“Aww, Stevie cares about me! And you even called me your friend in front of other people.” Eddie coos, poking Steve’s arm and grinning radiantly at him, Steve finding it distracting for a moment before he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
“I thought you were just tellin’ me that in private since no one would hear. But here you are, announcing it to the world that Steven Harrington, is my - Eddie Munson’s - friend. Feels different somehow, no?” Eddie says brightly, still just as teasing as before but it seemed more genuine.
“Relax, Munson, you might just drop dead from shock.” Steve says, the words dripping with sarcasm as he moves to find a couch, or something to sit down on, not wanting to spend the few hours they’re going to be there getting bumped into by drunk people left and right.
As he sits, relaxing into the faded blue couch to wait for Robin and Nancy to come back, Eddie plops down next to Steve and he groans as he rests his foot on his knee, letting it relax into a triangle shape.
“I only got here a few minutes before you guys showed up, not a very interesting party to be honest.” Eddie says, glancing at Steve.
“I can imagine how dull it is without your favorite people here.” Steve jokes, noticing Robin and Nancy wading back through the crowd of people, both of them holding two drinks and Steve groans.
“I hope that isn’t too alcoholic, I wasn’t going to drink much today, I told her that.” Steve mutters wryly, letting his head drop back to the top of the couch, flinching a little in surprise when he feels Eddie’s arm is there, but he doesn’t lift his head until Robin and Nancy get closer. Steve notices Eddie studying him again from the corner of his eye and he wonders for a moment why he cares what Eddie thought of his choice not to drink? Or was he staring for some other reason?
“Here, Steve. It’s punch, with very little alcohol added.” Nancy says with a polite smile, and Steve takes it, giving her an awkward smile and nodding back, grateful that Robin had thought of him after all. He notices Eddie moving next to him and glances over to see him laughing into his hand that wasn’t resting on the back of the couch, trying to muffle it after seeing Nancy and Steve behaving so awkwardly. Slightly annoyed now, Steve drinks the punch slowly, wanting it to last, already surprised that he actually didn’t seem to taste any alcohol in it. Though he knew that that wouldn’t last to the next cup. The punch would slowly just become more and more alcoholic.
Steve realizes after a moment that Nancy and Robin are standing while he and Eddie sit and he stands up, smacking Eddie lightly on the leg.
“Let them sit now, Munson.” He orders, throwing Robin a dirty look when he sees her rolling her eyes and laughing.
“Wow, how chivalrous.” She comments and Nancy laughs a little at that, some of the ice around their group breaking apart. Though he and Robin had hung out plenty - even with Munson - it wasn’t common for Nancy to be in their friend group. Since she had graduated high school, Steve hadn’t seen her around at all, having heard through Robin that she had gone to university. Though he wasn’t sure why she was back right now in fall when he had thought she would be leaving, he was too afraid to ask.
At first, their conversations seem short and a bit awkward after he and Eddie had searched around and found only some stiff plastic lawn chairs to sit in across from the couch, but Steve quickly found out that the three of them had one thing in common; a taste for getting under Steve’s skin. He was just shaking his head at their latest joke about 40 minutes after they got there. He was trying not to laugh when Robin and Eddie stand, Eddie placing a cigarette between his lips, fishing out his lighter while Robin grabbed her cup and Nancy’s in one hand and reached for Steve’s with her other.
“I’ll go get us more drinks, ‘kay?” She giggles, her face a little flushed and it was clear she was quite tipsy. Concerned, Steve is about to stand when Eddie laughs and playfully pushes Steve back down.
“Relax, Harrington, I’ll make sure Bo Peep doesn’t get taken by a wolf.” He jokes, still completely sober which puts Steve at ease. Until they disappear into the crowd together and Steve realizes he’s alone…with Nancy Wheeler.
At first Steve was completely at a loss of what the hell they could even talk about, it had been so long since they had last talked to each other…since they had narrowly escaped the end of the world over a year ago. But thankfully, he didn’t need to speak first.
“So, got any fall plans?” Nancy asks politely, and Steve wonders if this is her way of asking if he’s going to College or University and he shakes his head.
“Nah, I don’t really have any ideas for what I want to do. Just working at the video rental place for now, see if something catches my attention.” He shrugs with a smile, his chest aching painfully. He didn’t have any goals or aspirations, no jobs that called to him. Nothing. He was as lost as a leaf in an ocean. But he didn’t want Nancy to pity him, it was too much already having one of his friends pity him that day, he didn’t need his ex-girlfriend to join in as well.
“What’re you planning on doing? Being a journalist? Or a teacher?” Steve asked, politely curious, but he had finished his punch now and wanted to get more, feeling oddly thirsty still.
“I’ll probably stay in journalism. I worked for a bunch of…assholes, a few years back, and I was in the school paper last year as well. When we weren’t fighting for our lives to save the world, or dealing with dicks in the office, it was great.” Nancy finally seemed to relax, and that made Steve feel a bit better, but not as happy as he thought it would.
“Yeah? That’s awesome, you’ll be great with Jonathan. Where is Jonathan, anyway? I haven’t seen you two together in a while.” Steve asked, not realizing he’d stepped on a landmine until he finished scanning the crowd for Jonathan and turned back to see Nancy had closed off again, and he felt that familiar instinct.
Uh oh, Nance’s pissed about something.
The silence seemed to continue on for far too long, the minutes walking in and taking up more space than this crammed house seemed able to accommodate. And Steve suddenly felt like he was on the edge of a cliff. He sincerely wished he had insisted on going with Robin, now.
“We broke up. A few months back, actually.” Nancy said, her voice a tad cold as it shocked Steve, who felt a bit more tense; wishing he’d physically put his foot in his mouth rather than metaphorically. That seemed preferable to the embarrassment he was experiencing for offending Nancy.
“Oh, I’m-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry to hear that. It’s been a long time coming and I’m not sorry. Neither is Jonathan, and we’re both happier that way.” Nancy cut him off and he realized with raised eyebrows that they must have had a falling out and mutually broke up. Nancy didn’t look upset, but Steve sure felt like she was, but he’d rather burn in the fiery pits of hell for eternity than to probe further. He spotted Robin in the crowd with Eddie and he smiled awkwardly at Nancy before standing.
“Well, at least you’re happier.” He smiles, hoping it comes off as sincere.
“I’m just gonna get a drink then. Try and relax some, hey?” Steve encouraged her, and teased a bit too. Nancy pursed her lips and seemed to realize she was more tense than she thought as she seemed to make an effort to loosen her facial muscles.
He wove through the crowd to Robin, poking at her to get her attention.
“Robin! Go talk to Nancy, would you? She’s really tense about her breakup with Jonathan.” Steve said, speaking just loud enough that Robin could hear without Nancy hearing as well. Robin looked surprised at this, a spark igniting in her eyes that Steve knew he recognized. He grinned at her, patting her shoulder.
“Try not to word-vomit too much, huh? We’re leaving soon, it’s been 3 hours and you two,” he gestured to Eddie and Robin, “have a shift tomorrow.” Steve said, knowing he was nagging like a mother but he honestly didn’t want them to have their day ruined by a mind numbing 6 hour shift and killer hangovers. Eddie however, didn’t seem very phased, and Steve wondered how much of a heavyweight he was. Or, how often he showed up to work with a hangover.
Robin seemed glued to the floor, staring at Steve like a deer caught in headlights and he winked playfully at her which made her scrunch her nose in disgust, breaking her out of her trance.
“Go get ‘er.”
“Ew, Steve.”
“Yeah whatever, you know you will anyway.” Steve laughed as he gently pushed her shoulders, her feet finally moving again as she unrooted from the ground, making her way over to where Nancy was now standing, glancing around like she was looking for them.
“They grow up fast, eh, Munson?” Steve joked, continuing over to the punch bowl, wobbling slightly here and there.
“Yep, not everyday you send your kid off to court a princess, huh?” Steve can hear the smirk in his voice and his heart flipped over in his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure what the hell Eddie said, though.
“What do you mean, ‘court’ a princess?” Steve was distracted for a moment, glancing at Eddie in confusion mid-ladle as he got his punch. What did a courtroom have to do with Robin having a crush on Nancy?
And, he noted, he could already tell there was more alcohol in the punch. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to drink more or not now, he could already feel the panic creeping at the edges of his chest like ice forming.
“Think of it as, uh. Flirting with someone before you date them.” Eddie explained casually, eyeing Steve closely and glancing down between the frozen ladle and Steve’s cup.
“Do you…need help there, Harrington?” Eddie asked curiously, and the lack of a mocking undertone to his voice made Steve relax a little.
“Yeah, fine. I’m just trying to decide if this next drink is worth it or not.” Steve muttered, turning back to stare at his cup before he got distracted by Eddie again. So then, if Eddie was referring to Robin as flirting with Nancy, he supposed that she had spilled her secret to him. He wasn’t sure why that made his chest ache a little.
After a few moments of contemplating, he decides to give the punch a try. Worst case scenario he can simply leave it on the table instead of finishing it. After ladling in a few scoops of red liquid, he took a sip, immediately tasting the burn that was much more prominent than he expected it to be, and he pursed his lips, swallowing reluctantly as anxiety fluttered lightly in his abdomen.
Eddie kept staring at him, the humor was still there in his eyes, he was still smiling a little. But Steve could feel the silent question in the air and he chose to ignore it, walking away instead to head back over toward Robin and Nancy and stopping short.
Nancy and Robin sat together engrossed in a lively conversation, Robin talking and using her hands almost more than her mouth to speak excitedly and her face was a bit flushed. Nancy sat back sipping her drink, watching Robin move her hands and talk excitedly with a small adoring smile tucked on her mouth that would be impossible to see had he not known Nancy and her tells so well.
She’d looked at him like that, once upon a time. Steve was more than a little surprised that he didn’t miss Nancy at all anymore, and that he was actually quite happy for Robin. Vickie hadn’t worked out well, Robin had been destroyed when she found out Vickie had a boyfriend, and she’d been in a bit of a funk about it since. Seeing her with Nancy was refreshing somehow. He turned away to give them their privacy, not realizing Eddie was standing there as he collided with him.
Despite his proclamation that he didn’t miss Nancy, he did feel a longing when he saw her, although it wasn’t directed at her, but more at the idea of having someone who knew him as well as he knew her and to be loved so dearly that someone knew what he was thinking based off something as small as a minor change in facial expression. He looked away from her before the lonely feeling grew stronger. He straightened and made to move farther from Nancy, but he felt a weight stop his foot mid stride backwards and almost tipped over.
“Watch it, Harrington. I’m not trying to make you fall for me.” Eddie laughed as his hand gently caught Steve by the elbow. Steve flushed, rolling his eyes at the stupid cheesy comment as his heart flip flopped nervously in the pit of his stomach and he moved away from Eddie to give him space.
He took another tentative pull from his cup, the dizziness didn’t seem to be bothering him like it usually did.
The sluggishness was only just beginning to set in, and although he felt that sick feeling rising in his stomach, he prayed it ran its course and didn’t start to grip onto him again.
“You wish I’d fall for you, Munson.” Steve shot back, shaking his head with a smirk as he turned to find one of the other couches he saw somewhere just outside the sea of drunken people since his friends had ditched the other and it was now taken by some other partygoers.
He swayed to the music casually as he walked towards another couch that a couple had just abandoned as he had watched, their faces locked and Steve ignored them as they stumbled up the staircase. He plopped down on the couch, contemplating when exactly he had given up on Nancy Wheeler without himself even realizing. And when he had become so lonely, that also was a surprise to him, he had never felt it so fiercely.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about there, Harrington?” Eddie asked curiously after a few minutes, shaking Steve out of his thoughts with a bit of surprise. Steve hadn’t even been aware Eddie was still following him. His voice sounded like he was making an effort to sound nonchalant, but Steve heard the burning curiosity.
“About stuff.” Steve evaded simply with a small smile, enjoying for once making Eddie the one who was frustrated with him rather than the other way around as Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed a little at him.
“What stuff, may I ask? Or must I offer you a penny for those thoughts of yours?” Eddie smiled a little, and Steve looked at him, making eye contact with his smirk getting wider. As Eddie pulled out an actual penny from his vest pocket, Steve burst into a fit of laughter.
“What the hell, how long were you waiting to use that one?” He choked up with laughter as Eddie’s eyes sparkled and he had a look of accomplishment.
“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” He retorted before slipping the penny back into his vest pocket.
“Excuse you, I didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Steve grins at Eddie and Eddie’s face lit up as he took it back out and placed it into Steve’s outstretched hand. It felt warm to the touch and Steve ran his fingers over its smooth surface before he put it into his pocket. Something warm wormed its way through him.
“Why so curious about my innermost thoughts, Munson?” Steve shot back, and Eddie rolled his eyes, huffing and sitting back against the couch more.
“C’mon, don’t make me beg, Harrington. I already paid up. I just want to know what a friend is thinking about whilst staring at his best friend and ex from…how many years ago, was it? Two? Three?” He teased, and Steve groaned a little, unhappy with how quickly their roles switched again.
“Four,” He muttered, “and if you want anything else outta me you’re really gonna have to beg.” Steve added with a grin and it was Eddie’s turn to tilt his head and laughed.
“Please, oh please your highness King Steve, bless me with your thoughts?” Eddie says in an accent of some kind and makes puppy eyes at Steve. Steve broke out into laughter, not actually having expected Eddie to do it. But he supposed it wouldn't be too bad to share after all that.
Steve sobered up a little as he thought about it, and he felt his face flush a little as he prepared himself.
“I was not staring at them…” He lied badly, muttering and sighing again. He could feel the pounding in his head increase and he massaged his temple, feeling his stomach beginning to get upset again and he hoped he could push it down or forget about it before the rest of it started. He was a bit surprised by how easy it was talking to Eddie even with all the chaos around them. Or maybe it was because of that.
“I was just realizing that I’m happy for Robin.” Steve finally says, still embarrassed at the reason and when he peeks at Eddie he sees that Eddie is looking at him curiously, not seeming to understand.
"And that…I don’t miss Nancy like I thought I did. I guess I just realized I’m completely over her.” Steve says aloud, somehow speaking it made him feel that much more sure of what he knew.
“Well, it has been a while since you and Nancy were together, it’s normal to move on eventually. But congratulations.” Eddie teased him and Steve snorted again. He did suppose after all that to someone else, him being over Nancy would be normal. But it felt monumental to him.
“Yeah, it just feels nice, you know. I mean, I felt pretty fucking unloveable for a while, and I was worried I’d never get over her. I’m just glad that at least one thing isn’t true…” Steve says before his mouth can catch up with his brain and he freezes.
He felt his stomach twist as he realized he was being a bit too truthful. He felt his anxiety climb higher, was his anxiety getting the better of him, or…? Surely he didn’t have any of that truth serum, so why had he told Eddie something like that, and why did it feel so intimate? Was he just too anxious to bullshit? To make anything up? Why was Steve telling Eddie, making Steve feel so incredibly nervous? It wasn’t even a big deal, or some shocking truth, it was just a small thing. So why did he feel like it was something huge? His blood felt like ice in his veins, and his head was spinning, making the lights above him dance and spin with a sickening sense of deja vu.
Eddie was watching Steve closely, it made his skin feel like it didn’t quite fit. Or, contrarily, like it fit a little too well, like he was butter scraped over too much bread.
Steve stood up quickly, and almost fell, stumbling over his feet and his dizziness wasn’t even too bad yet. Above him, the lights danced, and he thought he would be sick. His heart was racing, his skin was clammy and his head pounded in his skull. Steve felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety wash through him like a tidal wave as his chest tightened painfully.
Then he blinked - and was outside.
Turning around, he looked back at the house, wondering how he had gotten there so quickly, but he saw Eddie following him with concern written all over his face. Not far behind him was Robin and Nancy.
Shame crashed through him now alongside the anxiety.
“God damn it.” he muttered, pressing his forehead into the heel of his hand. He turned around again, hoping he could get farther before they caught up to him, but he didn’t want to run and either make himself fall or make an overly dramatic scene. The last thing he wanted was more people to know about this. It was bad enough that Nancy, Robin and Eddie did now.
He could hear a few of their voices, but they sounded like they were coming through water, and he wondered if that was the punch or if that was his anxiety.
“Steve! Steve, what happened? Are you okay?” Nancy’s voice came through the water, and he groaned, glancing at her.
“I’m fine, Nance, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be here anymore, I’m heading home.” He said, forcing his voice to sound as normal as he could manage, but even to his own ears, with his own impaired hearing - it sounded false. Nancy looked at him as though she was worried he was going to blow away in the wind like dust. He turned around and kept walking.
“Harrington, you need something?” He heard Eddie call and he weakly waved a hand at him. He wasn’t sure how Eddie thought drugs would help him in that situation but he brushed him off regardless.
“Steve!” Steve ignored Robin’s voice, continuing to walk, trying to distance himself from the house behind him as though it was the embodiment of his fears. But he still heard her footsteps and he teetered to a stop. It was pitch black out, and Robin was running after him. That realization hit him like a truck and he teetered to a stop and waited for Robin to catch up, not wanting her to be alone in the dark street. He turned to see her for himself as best as he could through the dizziness and the dark.
She came to a stop next to him, and walked beside him as he continued again. Robin caught her breath in silence, clearly waiting for Steve to say the first word. And he couldn’t help it, but he was more than a little moved that although she was having so much fun with Nancy, she still kept her word and left with him even when he was trying to leave on his own so he wouldn’t interrupt her.
“Sorry I almost left without you.” Steve finally mumbled, his speech a tad slurred. As they walk, his shoulders slump.
“It’s fine, Steve. It wasn't that fun anyway, actually.” Robin lied, and Steve snorted, bumping his shoulder gently into hers with a little smile.
“Oh sure, ‘not fun’ my ass. You were talking to Nancy Wheeler all night, Rob. You’re telling me that giant grin on your face wasn’t you having fun?” He laughed, and her mouth fell open before she laughed too, hitting his arm.
“Shut up, Steve!” Robin blushed, but the giddy smile on her face was enough for him, and he felt himself becoming a bit more grounded. Something Robin seemed to have a knack of being able to do.
♝♡♘
When Steve woke the next day, his headache was depressingly much less painful than expected. He’d embarrassed himself, panicked and left the party, and he had been evidently less drunk than he had felt. Groaning, he laid in bed for a good long while, not falling asleep but just comfortably enjoying the sound of the rain on the window. He couldn’t remember the exact date, but he had a feeling that something important was coming up, so he decided he would remember it another time.
Slowly, bit by bit, he woke up and reluctantly got up. He started stretching out his muscles methodically, a habit he had begun to use to ground himself when the nightmares started a few years ago. His routine helped to distract himself from it, like moving his body in slow and calm ways reminded him that he wasn’t inside that nightmare, that he had control over himself. Letting the pull and burn of his muscles remind him that he was real, that where he was and what he was doing was real.
After he stretched, he felt like his headache had eased up some, so he went downstairs, not bothering to get dressed and just walking through the house in his boxers. The one time the scars on his abdomen and neck didn’t bother him was when he was alone, because even if his shirt cuffs hid his neck scars well, he was always fiddling with it anxiously to make sure it hadn’t slipped. He liked to joke to Robin that women liked scars and he was cool and mysterious to them, but he could never shake the feeling that the scars were an inescapable reminder, something that made him stand out. Sometimes it even felt like a promise. The ghost of Vecna made him shudder, and he did his best to steer his thoughts away.
A soft clink catches his attention and when he glances at his wooden floor, the penny Eddie had given him is rolling about on the floor. A warm sensation grows in his chest, pushing away the chill of his own thoughts and the dampness outside as he leans over to pick it up. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t help but laugh a little remembering that Eddie had stashed the penny away just to make a cheesy joke, and that Steve had been the recipient.
The warmth in his chest spreads, remembering how Eddie had literally paid him and begged him just to know what he was thinking. Steve had never had anyone show any interest in what he was thinking like that before, had never had anyone really care like that. Jolting out of his stupor, he places the penny on his bedside table, embarrassed at himself. Was he so lonely that a single penny from Eddie Munson made him this happy?
He mindlessly floated around the kitchen, making himself bacon and eggs with a glass of orange juice. He ate quietly, thoughts on other things - things like the party yesterday, about Eddie Munson and how his laugh had made Steve feel more happy than he had felt in a while, about how yesterday had somehow changed something in the atmosphere when he and Eddie were near each other even for the brief moments before he panicked and left.
It all seemed like a haze, or like he was viewing it in third person. But if he thought about it too much - about the ending of the night and running out in a barely even tipsy stupor – he felt intense shame and embarrassment wash through him, his father’s words echoing through his head;
”Running away like a bitch again?”
“Wipe your fucking eyes, it’s pathetic.”
The words came unbidden to his head, recalling times he’d rather forget any day.
Trying to think about better, nicer things, he headed to the bathroom. He methodically turned the faucets to his ideal temperature - hot, just enough to feel good on his skin, but not enough to burn - he felt the same sense of excitement for the emptiness the shower inspired. He felt utterly alone in the world, nothing existed but him and the warm water, and for once it wasn’t bad being trapped in his own skin.
Breathing rhythmically, he basked in the warmth, almost nodding off once or twice as he allowed his muscles and body to relax. To ease himself more, wanting to simply pretend last night hadn’t happened. But it had. No matter how many times he focused on his breathing, willing away the awkward stares, forgetting about them, they always clawed their way back.
His skin itches and wriggles like bugs were on him from the looks that appeared in his mind unbidden of people whispering about him as he ran out of the house. He gave up eventually, of trying to run, from his memories. And too soon he was forced out of the water when the hot water started flowing cold. He stepped out, drying off and ran his hands over the bumpy ridges of his scars on each side of his abdomen. He supposed he should be thankful his neck scars weren’t as intensely raised as the scars riddling his midsection.
He drifted listlessly through his empty house once again, and it felt as suffocating as usual.
“Fuck this.” he muttered, taking the stairs to his room two at a time and getting dressed swiftly., he paused for just a moment, hesitating before he grabbed the penny from his bedside table and put it in his pocket with a little smile.
Then he grabbed a few of his mixtapes at random before he raced to his car. He didn’t care where the fuck he went just as long as he wasn’t home. Unbidden, Eddie’s face cropped up behind his eyelids and he flushed, shaking the image clear as he thought of Robin instead, wondering if he should go pester her today.
Once inside his car, he slipped the tape in, and he realized with some mirth it was a mixtape Eddie had given him to listen to oh so many days ago on a particularly boring Family Video shift, claiming that it was a sin Steve didn’t know Metallica, DIO, or Black Sabbath.
He popped it in and skipped around to a random song he liked the sound of and let it play. He started the car and began to drive through the streets, enjoying the scenery as the umber leaves drifted off the trees.
His hair was still damp as he bobbed his head to the music, not paying attention to what song it was until a familiar one finally came on and he grinned, singing along as “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” blared through his radio.
He felt excited to stop by Family Video to bother Robin as he rounded the corner of the street to where it was and he spotted a familiar messy bob haircut and he pulled over beside Robin, noticing Eddie’s shag as well.
“What are you losers doing?” Steve called, turning the music down and inspecting them. Both were in their work uniforms, a cigarette between Eddie’s lips, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Steve felt his stomach tumble at the sight.
Ignoring himself, he made eye contact with each of them, ignoring Eddie’s widening smirk, not wanting to know what it was that had caught his attention this time.
“We were peacefully walking to work. Why’re you here, Harrington?” Robin said back, crossing her arms with a wry smirk.
“I was just cruising around, enjoying some alone time when I happened to come by this way. What a coincidence, right? Want a ride?” He grinned at her, looking between Robin and Eddie. They glanced at each other and grinned as well, getting in.
Eddie sat in the backseat and Robin sat shotgun.
Steve hurriedly skipped the rest of the song, pulling the mixtape out and switching it to a David Bowie tape he’d made and relaxed a little as “Without You” started playing, he eased into the familiar song as he started driving again. They were still about five minutes from Family Video as Steve talked with Robin easily, relaxing more and more even though he could feel Eddie’s gaze prickling on his neck and the back of his head, making his heart speed up.
“So, Munson, why weren’t you sporting your beat up van today?” He laughed and Eddie gasped in mock offense.
“First, rude, she’s a senior she isn’t beat up; and second; can’t a guy get a bit down to earth and enjoy the fresh air every once in a while?” Eddie said theatrically, sounding overly wistful and Steve gave him a flat look and rolled his eyes in return, trying not to smile.
“Yeah sure, Munson. Robs? What’d he say?” Steve’s grin widened slowly as he saw a look of betrayal take over Eddie’s face. Steve notes with a breath of relief that the bruise on Eddie’s jaw looks at least less severe than it had last night.
“He’s getting it fixed, the engine stalled because he was a dumbass in a hurry.” Robin grinned as Eddie whined at her.
“I thought it was something like that.” He couldn’t help but laugh as Eddie leaned back and crossed his arms, saying something loudly about Judas.
“So, Harrington. Was that what I think it was?” Eddie chimed in at the next lull of conversation, apparently over his pouting by now. Steve glanced in the rearview mirror in confusion, startled a little when he saw that Eddie now had his chin propped on the shoulder of the car seat and, looking at him with an endearing grin that made Steve’s heart feel gooey and warm like it had turned to caramel.
“Christ, Munson don’t do that shit, I’ll crash the car!” Steve cried but he was laughing a little and so was Robin. Eddie put his hands up in surrender, sitting back a little even as Steve felt a bit disappointed until he saw Eddie’s grin. Wait, why was he disappointed when he had been the one to ask Eddie to move? Steve pushed the thoughts away, confused.
But Steve noticed Eddie didn’t stay like that for long as he propped himself back where he was near Steve, who in turn felt warmer and a bit satisfied.
“What the hell do you mean ‘what you think it was’?” Steve finally clarified as “Without You” finished. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked at Steve like he was a child, but it didn’t make Steve feel crappy because he could hear the teasing lilt in his voice and see it in the lift to Eddie’s lips.
“I meant, was that my beautifully handcrafted- eloquently made mixtape playing in your stereo? With KISS, no less, blaring from the speakers?” Eddie teased and it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.
“So what if it was?” He said smugly, not understanding a few of the words Eddie had used but he understood the gist. Pulling over in front of Family Video, Eddie’s eyes twinkled as he patted Steve’s shoulder before opening the door.
“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry your pretty head there, Stevie.” Eddie said, still seeming to be pleased with himself, and Steve felt lightning shoot through him at hearing Eddie use his first name. He was out the door and had closed it by the time Steve recovered enough to try and talk, and he glanced over to see Robin looking at him curiously, her eyes narrowed as she studied Steve. His heart rate picked up nervously and he felt like Robin was seeing more of him than he wanted her to. Or even knew it was there, but then she smiled and shook her head, heading out the door as well.
“Thanks for the ride, Steve, don’t die driving home.” Robin said and Steve snorted, waving at her as Eddie opened the door, leaning against the frame and he caught Steve’s eyes, giving a lazy wave with one hand as he smirked and flicked away the butt of his cigarette.
Steve waved back, giving him an awkward smile and looking away too quickly. Nervous energy crackled through him still and he started driving, both wishing he’d gone in with them and wishing he could go faster away.
He almost couldn’t help himself though, before he turned the bend he glanced in the mirror and saw Eddie was still standing there facing Steve’s car as he drove away and he looked more like the awkward guy Steve thought he was than the confident actor he pretended to be. Steve stopped at the stop sign, seeing Eddie take a step hesitantly and he realized that Eddie must want something.
Maybe he’d forgotten something in the car? Steve glanced in his back seat before he honked to let Eddie know he could come over if he wanted, and Eddie took off slowly, picking up speed as he ran and Steve’s heart beat faster and faster. His nervous energy returned more and more the closer Eddie got and he rolled down his window.
“The hell are you doing, Munson? Your running form is horrible!” He called, teasing Eddie as he got nearer and Eddie stopped outside his car, huffing and puffing as he leaned into the window, propped up on his elbow holding another mixed tape. He held his side like he had a stitch.
“Wha-”
“Here, this is my personal mixtape. If you want to try more music other than that one I gave you,” Eddie cut himself off, looking up to grin at him and it wasn’t his usual snarky grin either, “I expect that back though, so don’t you dare get too attached like you did with my vest.” Eddie grinned wider as Steve’s face heated intensely, turning tomato red as he tried to sputter an excuse.
“See you Stevie, enjoy the music.” He smirked with a wave, not letting Steve get a word out. He stuck his tongue out as he turned and walked leisurely back toward Family Video, and Steve stared at the mixtape after Eddie had given him a final wave before entering the store. Steve’s face was still red as he took out his Bowie tape and replaced it with Eddie’s.
Steve Harrington can count on one hand the reasons he has keep his head above water: Dustin, Robin, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan and the brats he's protected over the years.
In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve finds himself lost mentally and physically. He has no aim in life for a career, he's crippled with anxiety and horrible memories he never wants to think about, and as he and Eddie get closer, he finds himself tormented with feelings he doesn't understand. He's barely treading water, and he's quickly losing the will to keep going.
Eddie Munson is fighting a losing battle against the thickheaded jocks in Hawkins, after Vecna was defeated and Hopper came returned, the town was in a whirlwind hunting for Eddie like he was a witch. Thankfully, Doctor Owens stepped in to give the town an explanation; one that only placates the town, but not Jason.
As Eddie struggles to stay true to himself as the only openly queer person in Hawkins, and all the danger that includes, he finds others like him that he can take under his wing. Before he knows it, his life is full and happy with people who care for and trust him. He keeps his unrequited crush on Steve hidden as best as he can, but it becomes harder and harder to do.
Opening Notes:
I'm finally posting this again, I have a better idea on what I want to write for it and how I want to go about this story now. This fic is an AU where the gang defeated Vecna in season 4, it's about a year after he was defeated.
Byler and Ronance are both going to be happening in this fanfic, they will play a fairly large part to the story but Steve and Eddie are still playing the biggest role, don't worry. This story will have a focus on the core character's familial relationships, exploring friendships the Duffers were too lazy to write like Will and Jane and more. I hope this fanfic can serve as a balm to everyone who was just as mad as I was that we were robbed of the relationships the characters had and the sense of found family it could have had.
Steve felt the press of glass against his throat, the jagged tip of it almost cutting into him. He could see Eddie’s stare, frightened but calculating, locked onto Steve’s eyes, unmoving. Multiple times he had tightened his grip on Steve, bringing the bottle closer, and Steve thought of what an asshole he was in high school, how there was absolutely no way Eddie Munson wouldn’t end him right there, that there was no chance in hell that Eddie would trust he wasn’t there to haul his ass to jail, or worse, to Jason Carver. His life was in danger. In fact, he was certain he was about to be killed by Eddie “The Freak” Munson, and yet he kept getting distracted by his lips, his eyes…
There was a look in Eddie’s eyes that made Steve’s stomach whirl and dip, like he didn’t want to hurt Steve. Like he was a cornered animal that didn’t know what to do, and reacted the only way he knew how that would keep him alive. He didn’t want to be a murderer like Hawkins was calling him. Steve stared into his eyes, distracted and head light from it, unable to look away, pleading for Eddie to understand that he was there to help. Slowly, Eddie finally moved the bottle back so it wasn’t in immediate danger of killing Steve. Eddie’s eyes stayed locked to Steve’s, asking him without a word if he could really trust him. The air felt charged as they stared each other down, Dustin’s words not even registering, until finally he let Steve go. Steve closed his eyes for a moment in what felt like forever, breathing fully in relief. Yet the absence of Eddie’s weight left Steve feeling a bit cold.
Steve snapped to reality as a customer entered the Family Video, the bell on the door tinkling to bring Steve back. He flashed them a fast but polite smile they completely ignored as they went through several sections, searching for whatever movie they wanted to rent. Steve’s polite smile became awkward as he looked somewhere else to pretend like he hadn’t just been snubbed.
He always hated solo shifts, although they didn’t happen often, nor for very long, that didn’t change that they were unbearably boring. Especially on Tuesday afternoons where Steve hadn’t even seen a car pass by in at least an hour. The polite customer service smile returned as the man who’d rushed through the shelves came over with a VHS in hand. Steve glanced at it as it passed from the customer’s hand to his, seeing a vaguely familiar oily black alien on the cover. Aliens, Steve read, appraising it for a moment. At least it wasn’t gray with a face that could open up like a carnivorous plant. He rings the guy up, confirming his name and goes through the motions before he hands the VHS tape back to the man.
“Have a good…and they’re gone. Nice. People are just so nice, huh?” Steve mutters to himself as the man had run off without even a single glance in Steve's direction or a single word. Even ‘thanks’! Jerk.
He’d always had a habit of talking to himself when at work to keep himself entertained, Robin had found out rather quickly as he’d quietly ranted to himself about people fucking up his displays by grabbing or knocking over a tape in it, or muttering aloud about some movie. She and Munson rarely didn’t tease him about it when they’d catch him.
A muffled metallic crash made Steve whirl around, wondering if there was something in the back room or if it had come from outside instead. His heart rate skyrocketed and he was momentarily frozen before pushing himself to action, refusing to freeze up.
He carefully opened the door to the break room, gently prodding it open like it was about to fly open on its own. Another crash nearly made him jump out of his skin as he stared at the unoccupied ‘employees only’ room, a few of Munson’s music magazines laying around, mingled with a few of Robin’s. The noise sounded again, and of course it was outside, figures. He was tempted to simply convince himself this wasn’t some kind of interdimensional monster intent on ripping him to shreds and just open the back door to the where garbage cans were to prove it without a care. But decided that whatever was outside, he wanted to sneak up on it rather than announce his presence to it, he couldn’t afford the luxury of simply telling himself it was a simple animal and swinging open the door like a dumbass.
He felt cold, like he was submerged underwater, and to his dismay and irritation he was shaking. Images flew through his mind as he made his way back through the store and outside through the front door, circling around slowly to the back of the little strip mall, desperately wishing he had his bat.
The demogorgon, a monster from another dimension that ripped through the walls as though they were made of plastic wrap, demodogs attacking them, large and numerous, the demobats, so small but their tails had wrapped around his neck, stabbing and biting into his torso while he writhed, Max, floating suspended in the air accompanied by a terror so intense he thought his heart would burst.
He froze right before he could round the corner, his mind catching up with his body as anxiety and bone deep terror seized him, making him scared to turn the corner and investigate, still hearing the metal rattling.
Was this a Vecna vision? Had they not finished him off? Was this something else, luring him so it could murder him? It could quite literally be anything, and he was only a few feet from it as it rattled in the garbage behind the store, and he remembered Dustin’s words;
“How do you know that it’s not just a lizard?”
“How do I know it’s not a lizard?”
“How do you know that it’s not just a lizard-”
“Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.”
He knew Dustin had found it in the garbage, maybe it would be easy to deal with if it was small like Dustin said it had been at first. But his brain wouldn’t quiet down or calm at all, just like it never did when things like this happened. He was on high alert whether he liked it or not.
Suddenly, everything was too quiet, like the entire world had gone fuzzy, and all Steve could hear was a vague buzzing in his ears, and a haunting voice very quietly calling his name.
That scared him even more, the quiet ’Steve’ whispering in the wind. This had to be a Vecna vision, right? But there’s no clock noise, nothing had turned nightmarish - yet - and why would Vecna even choose Steve to curse? He was the least threatening of the entire group. Except for maybe Will and Mike. He never had much to offer their group aside from a pair of wheels. Was he actually not being targeted first? Had it already gotten the others? He felt his stomach drop like a stone and his breathing became labored, once again seeing Max rise through the air.
Inching forward slowly, feeling lightheaded, he finally gets around the corner and reaches the jostling garbage can. Placing a hand slowly on the lid, he prepares to take it off in one swift movement. His other hand raises, ready to throw a punch if somehow Vecna himself was sitting pathetically in the garbage, or something else of its ilk.
Just as his grip tightens on the lid, a hand clasps his shoulder from behind.
“Harrington?” Screaming all of Steve’s finest cuss words, he whirls, fist flying, and it wasn’t until his fist connects and he sees the shag of curly dark brown hair that he realizes he fucked up.
“Oh fuck! Munson?” He gasps after stopping the current of swearing, his knuckles stinging as Eddie Munson crumples to the ground, landing solidly on his ass, hand flying to his jaw.
“Fuck, Harrington. Next time I think you’re possessed, I’m leaving you like that.” He jokes weakly, still nursing his jaw. Steve noted that he looks pale - paler than usual, at least.
“That’s you, right, Munson?” He asks, voice shaky, heart racing still as he tries to figure out if he still needed to be frightened or not. Not that he was.
“What do you want, a birth certificate?” He mutters, leaning back a bit to look up at Steve, spreading his arms as if to say ‘ta-dah!’Steve winces when he sees the mark on Eddie’s cheek already blooming purple.
“Sorry, Munson. I thought you were - well, you know.” He trails off, sighing. The tension not completely leaving his body yet as he reaches a hand out to help Eddie up. Eddie’s warm hand slides into his, and Steve’s gaze stays fixed on the garbage can as he pulls Munson up to his feet.
With Eddie standing, he turns to fully face the garbage can, mixed emotions thundering through him when he sees it still twitching. At least it wasn’t a Vecna vision since Eddie was being Eddie and not Eddie-possessed-by-Vecna. Probably.
“What the hell is going on, Harrington? You’re freaking me the fuck out.” Eddie mutters, voice quivering just slightly. Eddie’s presence seemed to steady Steve, he felt much more at ease with another person - although he still felt cold and shaky - but maybe the eerie quiet wasn’t as unnatural as he thought a few minutes ago.
“I heard a noise,” he pointed to the one can with its lid on the ground, and then at the one currently shaking, lid somehow still on, “and came to investigate.” He says simply, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking since his head was beginning to feel too stuffed with fuzz to notice whether it was or not. He grabs the can’s lid again, heart racing and breathing hitching.
“Wait, wait, you’re just gonna check without any weapons or - Christ!” The question ends in a cry of high pitched fear as Steve yanks the lid off, peering carefully into the can on tippy toes, raising his tensed fist and using the garbage lid as a shield.
A gray mangy raccoon peers up at him with innocent eyes, a piece of a half eaten candy bar clutched into its paws. They stare at each other for a few moments before Steve replaces the lid slowly, the images of a slimy tadpole fading as he does.
“Well. That isn’t going to become a demodog. Hopefully.” He mutters, half to himself. Relief crashes into him like a tidal wave and he turns to Eddie with a goofy grin, meanwhile the brunette has his face covered with both hands, shoulders shaking. Steve feels his face drop into a concerned look, his hand hesitantly reaching for Eddie’s shoulders, was he crying?
“Uh, Munson? Are you alright?” He questions, his hand freezing a few inches from Eddie’s shoulder as the brunette’s hands fall from his face to his stomach, his expression not one of dismay but of mirth, the tears in his eyes from laughter.
“Let me…let me get this straight. You punched me square in the jaw, scared out of your gourd, because of a raccoon? King Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?” He wears the biggest shit eating grin, and Steve groans loudly, knowing Eddie will never let him live this moment down. Steve brushes past him, heading back to the front of the store.
“Shut the hell up, Munson.” He says, sounding exasperated and doesn’t bother to hold the door open. He’d never been close with Eddie. Hell, the guy only seemed to show up to pester Steve, on or off his or Eddie’s shift. Poking fun at everything he did, calling him and everything he did boring, occasionally teaming up with Robin to do so.
Eddie, still chuckling and nursing his jaw, follows Steve inside, not phased as he pushes the door open.
Steve stalks to the cash register as he realizes something and turns to Eddie once he’s back behind the counter.
“Wait, your shift isn’t until later isn’t it? What are you doing here?” Steve asks Eddie, who raises his eyebrows. Something Steve had noticed was that Eddie’s eyes never seemed to lose that mischievous twinkle. Even when they bore into someone's soul, like they were doing to Steve right now.
Eddie’s lips slowly widened from the ever-present hint of a smile, to a grin.
“So, the great King Steve remembers when my shifts are, does he? I’m honored, your highness.” He smirks, his voice teasing and sending a thrill through Steve as Eddie mock bows, flourishing with a hand. A warm feeling enters his chest, the sensation was at odds with the gross feeling he got in his stomach from hearing his old nickname. Steve stares at him blankly and crosses his arms, doing his best not to bite on the bait but feels his traitorous lips twitch, and Eddie’s grin widens as he notices. Rolling his eyes, Steve pulls out the first magazine in the closest drawer, scanning it hurriedly, a little bit flustered, trying to appear at ease.
“Don’t get full of yourself, Munson, I just happen to know today was supposed to be just me until your shift starts, a peaceful day for once. And another thing; don’t call me that.” He huffs, flipping a little too quickly through the magazine, not retaining any information from it.
“Mhm, and is that why you’re enjoying that lovely magazine upside down?” Eddie remarks, stage whispering the ‘upside down’ part from behind his hand as he walks over to the counter, sliding his arms on it as he leans down on it, the leather of his jacket squeaking slightly, and he lets his hands dangle over the other side of the counter. Steve finds himself momentarily distracted by how nice the chunky rings on his fingers look, making them appear longer and a bit thinner. He liked the one with four skulls on it the best, and had noticed it a few times since they had first met. Eddie seemed to wear that one daily while the others often shifted.
Steve felt his face heat in embarrassment as he registers what Eddie said, only worsening when he realizes Eddie was right. Maybe that's why he hadn’t remembered a word from the magazine. He levels a glare at Eddie as he flips it around. His face heating more, Eddie’s close-lipped smug smile wasn’t helping the embarrassment, an emotion he noticed he felt a lot around the metalhead.
“Why don’t you want me to call you by your title, King Steve? Are we close enough for the first name basis? No formalities?” He continues to tease, to which Steve says nothing, now actually reading the magazine in an attempt to ignore him as Eddie slides closer to where Steve was, glancing at the magazine, and almost bursting into laughter.
“Steve Harrington? Reading a magazine about Lord of the Rings and D&D?” Eddie asks, the ‘There’s no way you understand a word of it, so why are you reading it?’ Went unsaid even as Eddie smirks at him.
Eddie shifts, now resting his chin on one of his hands, allowing the other to keep dangling across the counter. Steve sighs, seeing Eddie’s expectant gaze not letting the question drop like Steve had been trying to let it do. He stuffs the magazine back into a drawer under the counter, not really being able to wrap his head around any of it, and moves to the other side of the square counters, across from Eddie and how distracting he was and how he made Steve’s body warm. Steve rests his elbows on the counter behind him and he leans back to stare at Eddie.
“Because, Munson, I can’t stand that name. And some prick has a habit of trying to embarrass me, so I grabbed the first magazine I saw. There, happy? End of story, now don’t call me that.” He says simply, in a tone he hoped conveyed that he was being serious. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, but Steve refuses to elaborate. He was thankful he moved away from Eddie, being close to him did things to Steve’s already lacking cognitive thinking that he didn’t want or try to understand. Eddie purses his lips, evidently trying not to mention his old high school nickname at how he had essentially ordered Eddie not to talk about it, and Steve narrows his eyes at him.
“You still avoided my question, why are you here early? I doubt it was to discover a raccoon with me.” Steve asks into the lull as he tries to circle back to what his original point had been. Eddie straightens, his fingertips steepled on the counter.
Sighing dramatically, Eddie smiles at Steve as though he had said something amusing.
“I wonder, Harrington. What do you non-freaks do inside video rental stores? I’ll give you three guesses, but be warned, freaks and non-freaks are more alike than you may assume.” He says in a voice that reminded Steve of horror flick trailer narrators - over the top spooky. Eddie saunters away, heading through a few of the shelves, his fingers skimming over the cases. The black handkerchief in his back pocket swaying and catching Steve’s eye. He’d wondered about it for a while, no matter what outfit Eddie was wearing, it always seemed to be present, and Steve had noticed it even all the way back when he and Eddie were in high school together. Then again when Eddie was on the run from the law. It was always there.
Even with Eddie away a few aisles down, Steve could feel the tension in his chest tighten, never fully going away. It was like the further Eddie - with his easy smiles and playful way of talking - got, the more tense Steve became. All he could think about was the rattling metal garbage bin and the memories it had brought back. Without meaning to, he found himself moving down the checkout counter to be closer to where Eddie had walked off to. It had been well over a year since they’d killed Vecna. Max had almost died and had instead become disabled - blind and unable to feel her body from the waist down. Will, too, had almost died alongside Eleven. Steve had barely helped any of them.
He’d managed to save Max once but he couldn’t the second time, had to watch helplessly as she slept in that sterile hospital bed afterward. Will and Eleven in neighboring rooms, torn apart and an inch from death. Max being lifted into the air had already been one nightmare too many, but he still had a much larger repertoire for his brain to choose from every night. So many enemies he could have sworn he had helped kill over the years had still managed to claw their way back. Who was to say Vecna couldn’t?
That thought. That was the one that kept Steve awake at night, wondering if the reality he was in was real, if the people around him were really them, or Vecna. If one day he would be possessed and lifted into the air without even knowing. One of his nightmares playing out before his eyes without anyone around to play music for him, or even know what kind of music he liked. He’d always hated shifts where he was alone. Sure, he loved to tell himself it was because it was slow, boring, but it was really because he didn’t know if he felt safe in his own mind, or even in reality.
“Harrington?” Eddie’s voice shocks Steve out of his stupor again, making him flinch away from where Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, a hand on his shoulder again as Steve’s breathing slowed. Steve thought of earlier, when he had punched him, and was glad it seemed Eddie had been joking about leaving him the next time he thought Steve was possessed. Steve’s eyes drift to his jaw, the bruise dark on his jawline.
“What, Munson?” He asks shakily, clearing his throat, and crossing his arms again. Eddie stares at him in that way that makes every nerve in Steve’s body coil in anxious excitement.
Excitement? No, not that. Just simple anxiety.
“What is up with you, man? You’ve been acting weird.” There was no smile on his lips to be seen, just concern and worry. And that made Steve feel embarrassed yet again. God, wasn’t it the worst feeling, having someone be concerned for you? Steve feels shame crawl up his throat alongside the embarrassment, leaving a burning trail in its wake. It had been so long since their encounter with - and vanquishment - of Vecna, and Steve still couldn’t pull himself together.
“I’m fine, man. It’s nothing, I was just trying to remember if I left the oven on at my house.” He finishes lamely. By the subtle lift of Eddie’s eyebrows, and tilt of his head, Steve knows Eddie doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t call him out on it. Though his eyes are still boring holes into Steve’s.
“Sure, okay.” He murmurs, taking his hand off slowly, holding it in the air for a moment like a one handed surrender before heading away from Steve towards the front of the counter.
“I’m sure your house will be fine, Harrington. Don’t worry about your precious casserole, alright?” He teases, going with Steve’s excuse, and even though Steve knows he wasn’t convincing in the slightest, he feels that much more relieved. And maybe a little more respect for his weird friend.
“Well anyway, I was here to rent Aliens again but I can see it’s not here. So, what genre of escapism do you recommend, Harrington?” Eddie’s voice goes back to his normal, vaguely teasing lilt as he glances at his watch. When the other one had broken, and after everything was resolved, Steve and Robin had chipped in to get him a new one, it looked similar to the old one, but was waterproof this time.
“You got at least 17 minutes to wow me and prove that you don’t have questionable taste in films.” He teases, and Steve rolls his eyes, still kind of annoyed Robin had spilled the beans on what Steve had said when he first got hired at the Family Video, and he threw Eddie a playful dirty look.
“What kind of movies do you normally watch?” Steve asks, acting like he’s not particularly interested as he moves out from behind the counter to browse the shelves with Eddie. In reality though he just doesn’t want to listen to Eddie call him boring or plain again, but he also doesn’t want to seem too eager to prove himself.
“I’m up for whatever you have to offer, Harrington.” He smirks, and Steve notes that he hasn’t used his first name since he asked him not to call him ‘King Steve.’
Steve knew from when Eddie had mentioned it once or twice during previous shifts that he liked horror movies. But he wasn’t sure what would be a good one and what would be a bad one, he always avoided the genre, he had had enough horror for a lifetime.
Leading Eddie to a few of the sections, thinking much harder than Steve needed to about a simple question, he pauses at the Science and Fantasy movies. Eddie would probably like stuff like this, Steve contemplates. He played Dungeons & Dragons and he had heard him talking briefly with Dustin about Star Trek. Or had it been Star Wars? Was there a difference?
Glancing through them, he spots one title, Labyrinth, and grabs it. It’s a fantasy movie, and it had David Bowie in it, that surely had to be a good pick, right?
Steve was partially choosing it because he had been interested in watching it at one point, since it had David Bowie and Steve enjoyed a good amount of his music. But he had never really gotten around to it.
“What about this?” He asks hopefully, turning to Eddie, who Steve realizes was watching him intently, arms crossed, head tilted just a bit.
“Labyrinth? Interesting...” He says a tad monotonously, though Steve knows he’s doing it to be humorous rather than cruel, he still feels his face fall. Surprised at how Eddie’s reaction actually stung. He’d been making fun of Steve since things had died down and Hopper had helped him win his trial to mostly clear his name. Eddie and Robin constantly were getting on Steve’s case about things, making jokes of course, but some hurting more than others. Though he still wasn’t sure why what Eddie thought of him had the ability to make his heart ache, he always knew the guy disliked him - he’d proven that the first moment they had met since highschool. The sting of the glass against his throat comes to mind.
“Well, I don’t know…I was just trying to think of something you’d like.” He sighs, moving to put the movie back in its spot on the shelf, but Eddie grabs his arm, firmly but gently stopping him and grabbing the movie from him, their hands brushing for a moment and god, those rings. Steve could feel them touch his hand for a moment, the warm metal causing a thrill of anticipation to shoot through him.
“Don’t sweat it, Harrington. It feels a bit of a cliche pick for the D&D nerd. But, I haven’t actually seen it yet, so maybe I will like it.” He says easily, his smile a little apologetic before looking to inspect the back of the case, bringing it to the counter. Steve didn’t follow for a few moments, unsure why that made him feel better.
♝♡♘
After that, the shift slowed, an easy going day as Tuesday evenings tended to be. After Eddie had clocked in they had gone back to the usual silence that surrounded them during their shift, like they were content simply to sit in each others’ company. Although Eddie still teased Steve at every chance he had, and Steve tried not to give him any.
“Have you even seen all of ‘The Breakfast Club’, Harrington?” Eddie scoffs in disbelief, “The jock was the most annoying character! The coolest guy was the criminal. Doesn’t that say something to you?” Eddie smirked, holding up a case that someone had just returned, the customer had been talking with Steve about how she had liked the jock guy best. Steve had said the red haired girl - Claire had been his favorite, not noticing until it was too late that the girl returning it had red hair as well and he felt uncomfortable when she blushed. Eddie however, to absolutely no one’s surprise, disagreed with him the moment the customer had walked out of the doors.
“Not everyone shares your opinion, Munson. I just so happen to like Claire the best. You just happen to like Bender. Not that hard to get.” Steve retorts, facing Eddie where they were on each inner side of the square counter. Eddie having abandoned his leather jacket for his work vest, something Steve always thought made him look out of place.
“Granted, but then I asked you who the coolest guy was and you said the Jock. He’s not that cool, he barely even has a personality-”
“His name is Andrew and he does have a personality, he’s not a total douche like Bender is. He’s the coolest, and he’s not perfect but come on, at least he knows when he’s wrong! Are you sure you’ve seen the movie?” Steve argues back, using his hands to gesticulate as he explains, and Eddie watches it all with an amused smile on his face. His eyes had an odd twinkle to them that Steve pretends not to notice.
“I’ll give you that, but does that erase the fact that he physically hurt people? As far as we know about Bender he never hurt anyone but people think he has, and he’s just some poor guy everyone thinks is violent and freaky.” Eddie chimes in, raising his eyebrows, his smile still not leaving his face.
“Well, no. But he learned from that bullshit and got over it. He knows he’s wrong; he just needs to stand up to his douchebag friends.”
“That is true, but Bender doesn’t have any douche friends to stand up to.”
“Not to stand up to, but he does have douchey friends. He didn’t even think of any of the main characters as his friends just because they were all in different cliques and Claire is the one who pointed out that his friends wouldn’t forgive him for seeing Bender with her unless they were fucking. Kind of a douche with douche friends.” Steve finishes his little rant with a huff, Eddie watching him curiously.
“Bender is still the best written though. They’re all great, regardless of who’s coolest. Even though the jock is still the least cool.” Eddie backtracks some, still looking amused and adding in that last line just to get at Steve, but making his tone more playful to cool Steve off.
“I will agree with most of that. They’re all really cool,” Steve relents, smiling a little, “however, Andrew Clark is the best, definitely better than Bender.” His lips tug up into a playful smile now that he had settled down since Eddie had partially agreed and Eddie scoffs in mock offense, putting a hand to the base of his neck as though to clutch pearls, but instead it was one of his chain necklaces.
“What are you implying here, Harrington?” He asks, and Steve moves closer to Eddie, placing a hand on the counter behind him, smirking at Eddie who looks taken aback and a bit red in the face.
“I don’t know. You tell me, Munson.” He says quietly, smirking at him.. Eddie looks flustered, and it was a welcome response for Steve who had been teased by and embarrassed by Eddie so often that he rarely got the upper hand.
Eddie grins after a moment, recovering but still a little pink as he straightens against the counter. He crosses his arms and leans just his head and shoulders forward, making their faces get closer. Steve doesn’t back down even as his heart pumps faster.
“I think you’re implying the criminal isn’t as cool as the bland jock.” Eddie retorts, leaning closer still to provoke Steve. Steve takes the bait and comes closer too, their faces less than a handful of centimetres away from each other.
“I’m definitely implying that,” Steve murmurs, his smile widens, “but you do owe me a punch so I won’t provoke you too much.” He lets out a laugh and backs off from Eddie, his heart racing and he feels warm inside, like his blood was replaced with hot chocolate.
He smirks to himself when Eddie stays in the same position Steve left him in, he takes The Breakfast Club back to its rightful shelf after scanning it in. Despite their argument though - and he’d never admit it to Eddie - he did actually like Bender a lot.
♝♡♘
Steve steps into the break room reluctantly, only after Eddie pestered him about being on the floor for two hours - since Eddie got there at 6 - until just then, at 8. As the door shuts behind him, he can’t help but wonder a little to himself why exactly he found it so difficult to leave Eddie’s side.
“‘Leave his side,’ I’m just taking my break. I wasn't even at his side to begin with…” Steve mutters to himself, a little embarrassed at his own train of thought. But Jason Carver’s ugly mug comes to mind and he sighs heavily. Eddie had never worked a shift alone since he started working at Family Video. Steve had asked their boss to keep Munson from being alone in case Carver and his goons game to try and rough up Eddie or the store - though Steve couldn’t care less about the place, if he spun it that way, the boss would at least consider it - and Steve was relieved when she agreed. Yet as he had checked the schedule at the beginning of his shift that day, he saw Munson would be alone for 2 hours before closing, and his anxiety had grown. He hadn’t told Eddie about his request, not wanting to bring up the shitshow that was his court proceedings. He was just glad Eddie was safe, as any friend would want him to be.
He glances around the room, spotting the little radio that sat on the counter, finally moving his rooted feet towards it. He grabs a random cassette from the twirling stand next to it, he pops it in, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts for even a moment.
As a song he recognizes but can’t name crackles in the air, he sits in his favorite chair - the spinning one of course, and starts to spin. Steve twirls around in at varying speeds, leaning his head back and he feels himself getting lost in thoughts that don’t hurt, the kind that the relaxing music brings to mind.
He thought about what he might do tomorrow, his parents - as always - were out of town again, and he didn’t like being at his house when it was empty. An ache started up in his chest, and he tried to stifle it back down. God, Steve hated staying home alone, hated being alone in general. Yet ironically, it always found its way to him. The house felt like a husk when it was just him, too big for him to fill up with his presence, too big to even really feel like a home.
He shakes his head, resetting his thoughts as he goes back to wondering what to do tomorrow. Maybe Robin would be free, or maybe he would spend the day working out more, he had been slacking off some. He let himself get lost in the easy thoughts, imagining going to the lake, it was a bit of a drive, but there was honestly nothing better than letting his brain shut off, listening to loud music and feeling the air blow through him before diving into the cool water and feeling nothing but the pull of his muscles. Though, it would be more fun if he could bring Robin…but Robin hated getting wet, and the thought of going to Lover’s Lake alone wasn’t exactly pleasant after everything that had happened there. His palms feel clammy as the memory of the last time he swam in Lover’s Lake floods his brain and he shakes his head again. Could he really not even think to himself for a few minutes without these things coming back? Had a raccoon really rattled him so much?
Opening his eyes finally, he glances at the clock, hoping he doesn’t need to spend anymore time trying to keep his brain occupied - with things that weren’t terrible to remember - and realizes he’s actually late to return from his break, possibly a first for him. Groaning as he sits up and stretches, Steve stands and pushes the chair back into place as he walks back to the floor. Just to see Eddie swaying his hips and humming something Steve can’t make out, his headphones connecting to the walkman in his pocket and Steve leans against the counter again. Resting his chin on his hand, staring at Eddie and giving him his best unamused stare. Although Eddie was too preoccupied to notice, his eyes staring at the floor and Steve realizes Eddie’s ‘mic’ is really a broom as Eddie rounds to the other side of the counter.
So, Steve smirks, this was why Eddie was so insistent on Steve going for his break, was it?
“I was made for lovin’ you baby, you were made for lovin’ me!” Eddie quietly sings under his breath, making Steve groan aloud, a grin growing on his face. Of all songs, it had to be that one? Steve doesn’t hate it or anything, but god had he heard it a thousand times on the radio. He was definitely sick of it by now. But seeing Eddie ‘perform’ was enough to keep him from taking the headphones off of Eddie himself and asking Eddie to go back to doing his job. Though he was at least still trying to do his job as he sweeps idly.
Steve becomes a bit more interested, watching curiously as Eddie continues to swivel his hips, Steve's face heating as he finds himself following their movement a little more often than he should probably be.
“And I can’t get enough of you, baby, can you get enough of me, tonight?”
Eddie continues humming, spinning around and grinning, but he freezes as he finally sees Steve when his eyes open, snagging on Steve’s shoes and following his body up. Steve hurriedly raises his gaze to Eddie’s face, cheeks aflame as he awkwardly stands straight up, no longer leaning.
“Really, Munson? Of all songs to give me a private concert of, you chose ‘I was Made for Lovin’ You’?” He teases, trying to be nonchalant as he walks towards the stunned Eddie, his face beet red as he fumbles with his headphones, trying to take them off.
“I wasn’t performing it for you - the time just went by faster than I thought, that’s all.” Eddie defends, making a pretend pouty face and Steve rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Yeah, well I finished my break later than I was supposed to. Shocker to no one - 15 minute breaks are pretty boring at 8pm, I almost fell asleep.” He fakes a yawn.
“Not boring enough to put you to sleep while spinning in your favorite chair, I’d guess. What’s the real reason, Harrington?” Eddie asks, letting his headphones rest around his neck and Steve looks at him, confused. Eddie still looks embarrassed but Steve could see some curiosity there, or was it worry again?
“What do you mean?” He furrows his brows, crossing his arms at Eddie who raised an eyebrow back. How had the conversation shifted so drastically? Part of him thought Eddie was just diverting attention from his little performance.
“Steve, come on. You never finish your breaks late, ever the dutiful boy scout you are. Even when it’s late and boring. If anything you finish early just because you’re bored, and Robin or I have to practically push you back in there for you to finish it. You were acting strange earlier today too. Outside and then back in here. I know I’m not…the most reliable guy when it comes to these supernatural things, but…I’m still someone with two ears. Be it supernatural or not, they’re two ears which are no longer overrun by KISS thanks to a certain someone.” Eddie adds a light joke at the end, seeming to sense Steve’s rising unease. He had never been all that good at expressing himself, and he might not confide in Eddie - hell he rarely confided in Robin, his best friend - but he still appreciated the offer, probably more than Eddie would ever know. He didn’t know if anyone had really asked him what was wrong just because they were worried, or ensured he knew that he could talk to them if anything ever was wrong.
Steve smirks at Eddie, letting his face relax into a snarky expression, his amusement and genuine happiness softening it more than he would like.
“Oh? Does the Eddie Munson…care about me? You hitting on me, now?” He says in a playful lilt. Eddie’s face immediately relaxes and he rolls his eyes, huffing a little bit as he resumes sweeping, finally moving to other spots.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, it’s called common courtesy. I know women fling themselves at you to flirt like that girl earlier, but that doesn’t necessarily mean guys will too.” He teases back, focusing on the ground as he goes back to sweeping the same spot a few too many times.
“You can deflect the question all you want, but the offer still stands.” Eddie adds.
Steve felt a little jolt at the last comment, deciding to ignore it since he was already ignoring the initial offer. As much as he appreciated it, he couldn’t physically handle telling someone else his shit.
“Ooooh. Someone’s jealous, are they? I know my company is just phenomenal, but I wasn’t expecting that from you, Mr. Everything-Steve-Does-Is-Bland Munson.” He retorts, noting Eddie’s face becoming more pink.
“You fuckin’ wish, Harrington. Since you came back on the floor finally, that means you help me lock up, it’s almost closing time.” Eddie scolds halfheartedly, knowing they had already finished most of their closing duties, but Steve didn't argue aloud with him.
By the time they finished their shift, it felt like Steve was with Eddie for the entire day rather than just the four hours they really were together. They’d locked up 15 minutes early, too exhausted to wait just for no customers to show, especially when they saw the pouring rain.
Steve and Eddie stand together side by side under the little canopy outside, sheltering from the rain.
Eddie smokes while Steve waits for his car to warm up some more, not much feeling like sitting in a cold tin can while he drives home.
“It always smells amazing when it rains, doesn’t it, Harrington?” Eddie flashes Steve a grin and Steve finds himself breathing deeply to see, catching a whiff of the delicious night air before the cigarette smoke makes his lungs burn, causing him to cough.
“Yeah it’s pretty nice out when it rains. Which I guess is a good thing since it rains a decent amount here.” Steve supposes, a little tired by now, and not as much for conversation, pining for his bed.
“By the way there’s a party tomorrow, over at some guy’s house, I’ll have to get the address from Gareth for you, I already forgot. He invited me yesterday and I figured you and Robin could come. She already agreed to go if you do. So, interested?” Eddie smiles a little bit, and Steve purses his lips, thinking about it. He didn’t particularly want to, but Robin rarely agreed to go to parties, and from how Eddie phrased it, he was only asking him because Robin wanted Steve to go with her or she wouldn’t go at all.
“Sure, I can drive Robin to and from it.” Steve decides after a moment and Eddie grins at him.
“Excellent. It’s at 8. I’ll call Robin and tell her the address so she can relay it to you.” Eddie says, yawning at the end of his sentence. They stand in silence again for a while, Steve preparing himself to say goodbye as Eddie’s cigarette burns red in the dark, getting closer to Munson’s lips when he sees a smirk grow on Eddie’s lips.
“So…you gonna tell me why you stayed 2 hours past your shift? I know I keep asking and you keep rejecting, but I can’t help but be curious.” Eddie says, and Steve feels the exhaustion get chased away as his face flushes. So, Munson had noticed that too, had he?
At first Steve didn’t answer, casually looking the other way like he hadn’t heard Eddie. Until Eddie lets out a booming laugh that echoes in the empty street, making Steve wonder for a moment if he had ever heard Eddie laugh like that.
“Come on, you didn’t think I wouldn’t realize, would you? You were supposed to finish two hours after I got there. I know my charming personality wasn’t what caused this. So what was it? I know it had something to do with earlier.” Eddie asks, making Steve feel the underlying concern again. God damn it, he really just couldn’t let Steve off the hook could he? But the more he tried to think of it from Eddie’s point of view, the more he understood why he would feel concerned.
Maybe Eddie thought Steve had stayed because he was scared of some supernatural thing happening, or that Steve was in danger of some kind. Which he supposed he should feel better about knowing at least it wasn’t supernatural. But that wasn’t what Eddie knew, and after the way the raccoon had bothered Steve, he didn’t want Eddie to get worried or freaked out thinking it was.
Sighing heavily, Steve gives in and looks at Eddie, his head still leaning a bit and Steve rolls his eyes.
“I stayed because I was worried about a friend. I’ve heard about Carver coming after you, the whole town probably has, and I didn’t want to leave you alone in the store. Plain and simple, just looking out for a friend.” Steve finishes, hoping his tone doesn’t allow room to talk more about the subject as he heads out from under the Family Video sign and walks to his car, ignoring the short bout in the rain as he plops into the now warm car and turns the radio down just a tad, glancing at Eddie.
He was stunned, staring at Steve over the steering wheel and Steve prays it’s too dark for him to see how embarrassed he was. He felt like he had admitted some dirty secret when he really <i>was</i> just looking out for a friend. Eddie slowly finishes the last of his cigarette, staring at Steve for a few moments longer before he puts out the smoke under his shoes, the purple laces arranged in a ladder-like pattern standing out in the terrible bright lighting from the fluorescent sign on the building.
Eddie continues to stare at Steve for a moment, his legs twitching a little as though he wanted to go to Steve, but seeming to change his mind. Much to Steve's relief. He pretends to fiddle with the stereo so he doesn't get caught watching. Next to his car, Eddie’s van starts up sounding like a jet engine, and Steve glances over to let Eddie back up first. Then he sees Eddie grinning toothily at him, giving him a little wave as the light glints off his rings before he’s on the road and driving. Steve feels the same embarrassment rise up, but a little bit of pride comes with it this time, before he reverses and drives off in the opposite direction.
I'm lowkey surprised by how many votes the Steddie fic revive is getting lol I have the first 3 chapters written I just kept losing motivation to continue it. It also was going to have ronance and byler in the backgrounds. I'm so happy that steddie is getting popular again lol it will always be my favorite stranger things ship
My fic (Everything I Do) I Do it For You is almost done now, just a few more chapters left if that LMAO but I have too many ideas for what to write next. I have too many ideas in my skull LMAO what would you be most interesting in seeing next? (I'll still do all of these eventually, but I'll be starting with at least one for a few chapters first)
