Eddie who doesn't die but leaves town the second he's recovered enough, and Steve who finds out he's pregnant the day after. Steve who comes to the trailer park looking for Eddie scared out of his mind only to find he's no longer there, didn't say goodbye, didn't leave a note.
Eddie who kind of assumed it was a fling for Steve, didn't mean anything; who thought it was a safe way to test the waters for Steve, before finding something else, someone else.
Steve who takes it the wrong way, always. Steve who thinks it was a fling for Eddie, didn't mean anything. Steve who can't bear the thought of turning into his mom, keeping someone around only for the sake of a child they didn't even want so he doesn't try to contact Eddie.
A few months later Eddie comes back to visit, Wayne's having a bit of a health scare. And who's also at the hospital? Steve, visibly pregnant unmated Steve.
Eddie might have failed school a few times but he looks at that bump and does some basic math, that's definitely his.
The upside down happened and Steve has been in a fog since his first encounter. The upside down came back and he feels like he’s a mile away from anything. He could scream until his jaw breaks without anyone hearing him. All he wants to do is feel something.
He wants to ruin his life and everyone keeps getting in his fucking way which is exactly why he seeks out Eddie Munson.
Fighting doesn’t do anything. Arguing makes him feel like an asshole. So - social suicide, right? The next best thing.
Except Eddie won’t take the bait.
Eddie keeps asking why Hopper is up his ass and shrugging off Steve’s every attempt to join his band of weirdos and freaks, and it’s just so - “Jesus Christ, just let me sit at your stupid fucking table with your stupid fucking friends, okay?”
Eddie’s eyes flicker around their science class before coming back to Steve. His eyes slide down to the frog between them, not even dissected by the scalpel on Steve’s shaking hand.
Eddie frowns, “Are you okay?”
“No,” Steve stresses and then throws the scalpel down. “No, I’m fucking not.”
Part five is now live with the triumphant return of Eddie! Thank you all for bearing with me 💖🧡💖
Divider - @steddiecameraroll-graphics
When Robin came back from her mental health vacation, she promptly threw a sandal at his head and started screeching. It was really something.
“I can not believe you did that! I wake up from a much needed 10 hour sleep and see a million missed text and an email from the love of my life! She probably thought I was ignoring her! And apparently I’m sick now? I had to make up a bunch of stuff about throwing up and going to bed early, Steven!”
“Hey, hey, ow!” He exclaimed, trying to fend her off as she used her other sandal to beat him. She wasn’t trying to make it hurt, but it’s the principle of the matter. “Hey, you should be thanking me! She has your number now, and she clearly cares enough to check in on you, that’s a good thing!” She finally relents, collapsing into the couch next to him.
“Yeah, Steve, of course she cares, she’s a literal angel. She probably feeds stray dogs and donates blood every month. She’s just being nice,” she said, temper subdued and replaced by dejection. Steve hates it.
“Yeah, well, I think you’re wrong, Robbie. She’s totally into you, and I’m going to prove it to you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder. “You know I’ve got a sense about these things.”
She groaned into his shoulder. “No, you absolutely do not dingus. Just let me die a lonely spinster. I’ll take up weaving and we can get five cats and rocking chairs for the porch and talk about our failed love lives for the rest of our lives.”
“No way. We are getting four rocking chairs, two cats, and a porch with a view and we’re going to bitch about the weather and the youths while our partners watch birds, or whatever,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.
“Yeah?” She asked.
“Oh yeah,” he responded. If there was one thing he knew about his future for sure, it was that Robin would be there with him.
After several more platitudes and a promise to make chicken parm with leftovers for dinner that night, they had settled back into their routine. Between episodes of day time television and gossip, plans continuing to brew in the back of his mind, more determined than ever to make Robin happy.
Which led him to now.
Phase Two: The Follow-Up, which nicely coincides with phase one of his “ignore your budding crush, you are so bad at dating” plan.
If he’s too busy making sure to snag Chrissy after class, surely Eddie won’t be able to pull him aside for a conversation. He’s not trying to get ahead of himself, but he figures it’s only natural for a guy to want to say “Hi, how about that weather!” to the guy who helped you off the floor last week.
And, ok, maybe Steve slipped a little and did some flirting. Sue him, he was blinded by beautiful brown eyes. But he doesn’t want to lead Eddie on and he’s sure if he just…doesn’t make direct eye contact, he’ll forget about it and walk away.
He’s not going to ignore Eddie, that would be the coward’s way out. He doesn’t want to make the guy feel bad or anything, just protect his own heart.
It’s harder than he thought it would be, striking the balance between making sure he’s the last one left behind who wants to talk to Chrissy and making himself look busy enough that he doesn’t catch Eddie’s attention, but he manages it, sweeping in while Eddie is securing the velcro straps around his mat.
“I was thinking I could try and bring Robin back next week.” He can see Eddie lingering out of the corner of his eye, his hair gives him a pretty distinct shape, to be honest. Maybe if he’s just trying to talk to Chrissy. Yeah, that’s probably it.
“She’s feeling a lot better, but staying in bed for a few days straight makes you stiff, you know? I was thinking it might be good for her to do some stretches, really work on that flexibility.” Ok, maybe that’s laying in a bit thick, but Chissy is blushing and it’s harmless, really.
“That would be great! She says, clapping her hands together a little and lifting lightly onto the balls of her feet, megawat smile firmly in place. She leans in a little, lowering her voice. “You know, we let people bring a plus one in for a free session to let them try it out. I won’t tell anyone Robin’s already been in if you don’t.” Robin is going to owe him so bad after this. So bad, he’s practically got Chrissy locked down for her already.
But he’s not done yet, there’s one more step to phase two, and it might be the most important one.
“Robin said you helped her a ton with catching up with class; she was super grateful.” Play it cool, Harrington. “Want to go grab some food with us after class next week? Our treat, as a thank you.” Nailed it. “Rob mentioned you're a vegetarian, she knows some great spots.”
“Oh, really, don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure!” She says, waving her hands around like she’s trying to banish the thought from his mind. “But I would love to hang out, you guys seem like a lot of fun, and Robin is great. Count me in!” Steve will humbly accept his wingman of the year award now, please and thank you. Chrissy looks over the moon.
“Is it ok if I bring my best friend? He’s in this class too, Eddie, come say hi!” It can’t be. There’s got to be another Eddie in this class. Maybe even several. Hell, for all he knows, everyone in the class is named Eddie except for him. What would he know? It must be a coincidence.
It is not a coincidence.
Answering the call of Chrissy’s energetic wave is the same Eddie from yesterday. He’s wearing another shirt with an indesernable logo that he assumes is meant to be the name of the band, but this one is only left with the memory of sleeves, cut down the sides to expose the sides of his stomach.
Well, that’s not fair. Steve is pretty sure he can see Eddie’s armpit hair, just a little bit, which should not be as hot as it is. If he lifted his arms up, he could see more. Steve is going to have to examine some things later.
Robin is going to hate him, actually.
Oh no, he’s smiling at Steve. He has dimples. How did Steve not notice those dimples before today? This is not helping his plan at all.
“What can I do for the two finest maidens of Yogaspire today?” He says, bowing low to both of them.
Oh god, he’s a nerd. Am I into nerds now?
He’s going to choose to ignore that thought, and also ignore the weird feeling he’s getting from Eddie looking up at him like that. Shoo, shoo.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he gestures vaguely, not wanting to risk going in for a handshake. Stay strong, Harrington. “Hey man, glad you’re feeling alright.” There, good, no follow-up questions, just good old-fashioned midwestern politeness, just like mama taught him.
“Steve here just invited us to lunch after class next week, you free?” Which, no, he did not. He very specifically asked Chrissy, and an extra body is really going to mess with his plan of dipping out at the last second.
He needs to save this ASAP.
“Well, far be it from a lowly bard to reject such a generous offer,” Eddie says, leaning back into his full height with a dramatic flair.
Steve needs to fix this. He shuffles back a little to angle his arm and part of his body behind Chrissy’s head. It’s not elegant, but it’s the best he can do. He starts waving his hand like a god damn Looney Tunes character, making every conceivable hand motion to signal to Eddie to please, for the love of god say no.
He might just have a lucrative career as a mime in front of him, because somehow the rapidly alternating death glare and puppy eyes and the frantic waving of his open palm do the trick.
He watches Eddie’s eyes widen, trying to make quick meaning out of Steve’s, honestly, probably concerning change in demeanor, and turns back to Chrissy. It’s not subtle at all, but he manages to stop before she sends a cutely confused look his way.
Eddie laughs awkwardly, like a genuine “hahaha” sound is falling out of his mouth as he rubs the back of his neck. Steve feels the urge to bash his head into the doorframe for a moment, but he bravely resists. Anything for Robin, he reminds himself
“Alas, I am afraid that I must decline after all, as I am otherwise occupied. Wayne, uh, has a-uh-apointment! With the dentist! Old man’s finally going to get that tooth pulled, he’ll need a ride. Anesthesia and all.” Steve really wants to find the nearest doorframe. Eddie is a terrible liar.
And, wow, Steve doesn’t know what to do with the look on Chrissy’s face, and it isn’t even directed at him. She’s smiling, technically, all white teeth and crinkled eyes, but he can feel the bad energy coming off of her in waves.
“Oh, really, that’s too bad. So wild that he needs Wayne needs you on that specific Thursday night, weird that you didn’t tell me before!” Eddie is definitely feeling her ire, too. Steve feels kind of bad.
“Haha, yup, can’t be helped!” Eddie is definitely sweating. And, oh, now he’s making eyes at him. Not the cute confused look from last week, but big eyes that scream ‘you owe me a god damn explanation.’
Damn, Steve was planning to hit up the grocery store after this.
Steve made his goodbyes to Chrissy and Eddie, deciding not to make Chrissy any more suspicious than she already seemed to be and linger outside for Eddie. Apparently, she usually stayed behind an extra hour after class to do setup and cleaning, but it wouldn’t be a problem for her to leave right after class next week.
Five minutes pass, then six, then seven, and at eight, Steve is ready to call it a day, silent agreement be damned, when Eddie walks out in a fresh change of clothes.
He really is cute, if a little rough around the edges, looking around the entrance with hunched shoulders and straightening out when he spotted him, trotting over in a way that absurdly made Steve think of a frolicking deer.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Well, so much for hello, but he supposes that’s a fair reaction.
“My bad, man. I’m kind of trying to do something here, and I couldn’t exactly have you tagging along.” Instead of clearing his confusion, something about what he said made his hackles rise. His eyes narrow, and he stretches to his full height, ever so slightly taller than Steve.
“Are you trying to hit on Chrissy? Because let me assure you, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” he says, voice steely. Protective.
This is really not good. Steve might not have dated a lot of unathletic, alternative men in his life, but he’s always gone for someone with a little fire. An edge of competence and danger that draws Steve in, often against his better judgment.
And then his question registers. It’s probably a reasonable ask, but Steve doesn’t like the implication, instinctively moving his hands to his hips the way he always does when he’s irritated.
“What!? No! I’m trying to set her up with my best friend, Robin. I’m not some creep trying to, like, trap her in a date or something.” Steve is ready for this to devolve into an argument of some kind, honestly, but Eddie surprises him again.
His face lights up, dimples making another appearance and ruining Steve’s life. And also maybe giving him whiplash. This guy sure is expressive.
He claps his hands together, like he can’t contain his excitement and needs to let it in a physical way. Steve wants to find it annoying. “Right! I forgot about the illustrious Ms. Buckley!”
Illustrious, that’s good, right? He said it like it’s a good thing, but Steve doesn't think he’s ever actually heard that word before.
He must be making some kind of face, because Eddie explains. “Chrissy talks about her a lot. It’s always ‘Robin’s last paper was so good’ and ‘Robin wore suspenders today, it was so cute!’” He says it all with a surprisingly good falsetto, a clear imitation of Chrissy, before leaning in, voice getting softer. More intimate. “Though, lately it’s been a lot more ‘Robin said this’ and Robin said that.’ I’ve got a feeling a certain pretty boy had something to do with the recent breach of the hyperbolic sound barrier?”
Steve can feel his ears turning red at the attention, ‘pretty boy’ dancing through his head. He’s not going to back down though. If Eddie is expecting him to fluster at his proximity, he’s got another thing coming. He plants his feet, not challenging, but also not willing to be cowed by the potential awkwardness of their position.
Eddie just grins, the word ‘impish’ coming to Steve’s mind. He’s pretty sure Eddie is checking him out, making him wonder where the shy, bumbling man from last week went. Steve thinks he might like him either way.
“Yeah, well, the feelings are mutual. Robin hasn’t shut up about the ‘ethereal beauty with a mind of gold’ in her writing class since the semester started.” He can’t help but roll his eyes a little. He told Robin that Chrissy was a slam dunk. They could be halfway to being engaged and buying those rocking chairs by now if she’d listened. “But Robin’s a bit of a coward when it comes to girls, so I’m helping out.”
Eddie rocks back on his heels, giving Steve some space as he crows. “Aha! I see the vision. I’m guessing you’re gonna make yourself suspiciously absent at next week's soiree. My attendance would shatter your master plan.”
Steve can’t help but smile, charmed. “You got it,” he says, snapping his fingers into a finger-gun and immediately regretting it. So dorky.
But Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t laugh or point it out like Robin or one of the kids would. In fact, he doesn’t even seem to register the motion at all, gaze firmly locked onto Steve’s mouth with a poleaxed look about him.
His smile turns into a smirk. He’s still got it, no matter what Dustin says. Even as he tries to remind himself of all the reasons he’s not trying to date right now, it feels nice to be noticed like this.
Eddie shakes himself out of his reverie, cheeks pinkening sweetly as he clears his throat and looks away, stuffing his hands in his back pockets. He rocks on his feet again, a habit Steve has noted even in their short time knowing each other, like he’s resetting himself.
He rocks himself back into Steve’s space, the corners of the other man’s smile curling up in a cheshire grin, any signs of bashfulness gone as quickly as they’d come.
“What if I told you I had a bit of a proposition for you, Stevie?”
Steve's bi-realisation coming from watching gangly limbed Eddie Munson running track for PE credit and those Hawkins High Shorts ™️ showing off so so much leg.
And he's so pale and littered with tattoos. And the second Eddie finishes his last lap he dramatically falls on his ass, sitting with his legs splayed on the brick red track.
And in Steve's head the exact words "those legs are like a spilled notebook of crude doodles and glorious art" followed immediately by "am I writing fucking mind poetry about Munson's white boy legs? fuck am I gay?".
He will learn about bisexuality in 14-22 months and a lot of things will click into place.
Eddie always has lipstick stains on his hands because his girlfriend loves kissing them. It's not even about territory, it's just how Stephanie keeps her affection PG when they're in public. And if she happens to stake her claims along the way, then Eddie's more than happy to wear her marks.
What if I said I was thinking about TransFem!Wayne Munson where she couldn't transition because of her work in the military—until she was honorably discharged due to an injury she received while in Vietnam. And so she returns home, but is faced head-on with homing Eddie and keeping him safe and making sure that her job can keep the both of them afloat.
So she just keeps this all to herself, it's the one thing she has as her own. Nobody else knows about it. She doesn't do anything outwardly to express her gender—nothing like makeup or dresses or any of that other stuff that the women around her are engaging in, she just remains as she is. Mainly because she's not sure if she's ready to share herself to the world in that way. But she refers to herself femininely in private; writing away late at night or muttering some half-asleep affirmations to herself, something.
It's not until after 1986 that she mentions any of this. She comes home to Eddie and Steve in the living room. Exchanging some quiet conversation. She's not listening in, just strides right past; noting the way Steve had tensed at the sight of her. That he'd been holding tight to Eddie, that Eddie proceeded then to force their focus back on each other, keeping Steve away from looking at her. There was something bright, still, about Steve's face—almost a blush or maybe the pinker tone to his lips or something sparkly about his eyes; and then, right as Wayne was ready to push through the threshold of the bathroom, Steve murmurs, "I just want to be your girl, Eds. I thought this would help."
And that doesn't change anything for Wayne just yet, just makes her think. Sit on that. Think.
Steve wants Wayne to say Stevie. To use the feminine words. She's nervous about it, too. Timid and shy. She waits until they're watching basketball together, when thing are typical and warm. She speaks low. "Eddie said I could trust you with this. That you've been open arms." And Wayne just reassures Stevie. Reassures her to the point that Wayne hopes the words seep into bone.
The next time Wayne sees Stevie, she passes over a bottle of nail polish. Just a simple mauve-pink bottle. With a passing, "From my own collection."
Stevie, then, "From your own?"
"Yeah...figured that...that us girls gotta stick together." And the moment the words finally crystallize and realize and become real in the air, something just settles. Like a piece in a puzzle or the key in a lock. It feels...whole. "Maybe I could show you my technique? We've both got shaky hands, y'know."
And maybe this doesn't end with Wayne changing her name or presenting any sort of different—just her same. But that's comfortable and it's right. And what she sees in Stevie, she knows Stevie's appearance changing, her name settling different, her presence—all of it—was the right choice, too; that something became whole, something grew wings and freed right inside the center of Stevie's soul. And Wayne knows that feeling, because she's right there, too.
Smooth confident successful (creep) Eddie and himbo Steve who's a walking disaster and wholeheartedly believes that Eddie is allergic to latex. He's knocked up by the end of their first date.
ao3
Written for @steddie-spooktober Halfway to Halloween prompt, “fog,” 995 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, season 4, the walk through The Upside Down woods, Eddie Munson Backstory
“How pissed d’you think they would be,” Eddie says, trying to sound unbothered, “if I asked them to slow down?”
He watches the glow of Steve’s flashlight scatter across the forest floor. It’s not a pretty sight, creepy vines and other nasty shit all harshly exposed, but it’s better than looking ahead and seeing—
“Nance wouldn’t mind. Robin…” Steve gives a vague hum. “Maybe? She’s got this thing where, like, once she builds up momentum she doesn’t really wanna stop. Going uphill especially, I think she thinks she’s gonna fall if she doesn’t do it all at once. One time we were helping Dustin take apart this… transmitter? Or something, doesn’t matter. Anyway, at Weathertop—”
“Weathertop?” Against his better judgment, Eddie looks up, but at least he’s got a distraction for now.
“Yeah, it’s Dustin’s name for that huge hill, y’know, the highest point in Hawkins.”
It’s a cute thought, but Eddie’s fond reply is stolen from him as he inadvertently glances ahead. He doesn’t say anything, but he feels the weight of Steve’s eyes on him.
“You okay? Did you see something?”
Steve raises the flashlight with renewed purpose. Eddie shakes his head. Tries to think of how to phrase this in the least mortifying way possible.
“Nah, man, it’s… it’s so dumb, never mind.”
Great, his go-to tactic: avoidance.
“Oh, yeah? Try me.”
There’s a pointed silence. And, as if Steve’s put some magic in the air, Eddie feels compelled to break it. Even the claws of his doubt that have sunk the deepest seem to relax slightly, and as he takes a breath, he’s hit with a sudden certainty: Steve won’t laugh.
“It’s just—just a thing from when I was a kid, y’know? I don’t, um, I’m not the biggest fan of, like, fog and shit.” He keeps his voice as light as he can, like maybe that can make the fear smaller. But Steve just looks at him, so earnestly listening, and he ends up tacking on more of the truth than he planned to. “I used to think it’d like. Take, um. Take people away.”
It skirts the edges of the full story—of the long nights he’d be left alone in his old home, waiting for his dad to come back. The place backed onto some woods, and when he was desperate he’d sit outside with his heart in his mouth, just watching the fog roll in.
You’re alone, the creeping mist would whisper. You’re all alone, and they’re never coming back.
He’d broken only once; the unhappiest of years had bled into one, but he couldn’t have been more than ten. He’d called Wayne. And back then, Wayne was only slightly more familiar than a stranger—it’d only be much later that Eddie would figure out the distance was a deliberate choice on his dad’s part—but he stayed on the line, and he must’ve missed his shift but never once mentioned it, just kept talking to Eddie quietly.
Eddie can’t remember how the phone call ended—his next clear memory is of Wayne’s car pulling up early in the morning, the gold of his headlights burning through the fog; he drove all the way from Hawkins, Eddie had thought with a childish wonder, as if Wayne had been on an impossible journey in an adventure book.
His dad must’ve returned at some point because Eddie vaguely recalls eavesdropping outside, dizzy with lack of sleep. It’s one of the only times he’s ever heard Wayne raise his voice: “For fuck’s sake, Al, that’s your kid.”
Steve absentmindedly passes the flashlight from one hand to the other. He looks thoughtful. “No kidding? Me too, kinda.”
You’re sweet, Eddie thinks; he can’t help it.
He nudges Steve’s side with his elbow, “That’s nice of you and all, but you don’t need to make me feel better.”
“Hey, rude, I was being serious,” Steve says, with a lightheartedness that suggests maybe he’s sidestepping something just as much as Eddie. “I get it.”
It’s between one step and the next that an answer comes to Eddie. His mental map of Hawkins unfurls, and he zeroes in on the Harrington house; of course, Steve’s place backs onto the woods, too. There’s something undeniably comforting about a shared experience, however long ago. But mostly Eddie feels a twinge of sadness. I hope you weren’t as alone as I was.
“But that wasn’t the big fear,” Steve says—louder, more confident, like he’s somehow heard Eddie’s train of thought and is really saying, Come on, man, that’s enough. Have fun with me.
“No? Enlighten me, Harrington.”
“It was,” Steve says, as if he’s a very serious newscaster, “the sound of the toilet flushing.”
Eddie snorts. “It was not.”
“It was so! That thing sounded like a monster, dude, it was, like—” Grinning, Steve makes a juvenile noise in demonstration; it sounds more like static from a radio. It’s exaggerated and ridiculous, and so obviously done to make Eddie laugh. “And I’d run downstairs like this—” He covers an ear with his free hand, briefly stops walking to do a comical jog on the spot, “—so I wouldn’t have to hear it. Now that is embarrassing.”
“Okay, fine, dude,” Eddie says, still chuckling, “you win.”
Thank you.
The laughter helps, but it doesn’t quite stop the flare of anxiety when he catches sight of the girls again, the fog rendering them into nothing but shadows, like they might just vanish any second now.
“Hey, you know what?” Steve says kindly. “I don’t think Robin’ll be pissed at all.”
He whistles, and that brings back warmer memories of Steve in his element on the basketball court, Eddie pretending not to watch.
And as they catch up with Nancy and Robin, Eddie can see now that it’s not so bad really; the flashlight’s beam easily cuts through the fog. Steve smiles encouragingly, and he feels on the verge of some glimmering emotion; feels like he’s been given something that won’t ever slip away.
your fear
but a lingering, limbic fear torn from shreds
of forgotten years.
Only that much is clear.
—Alice B. Fogel, Forgiving the Darkness
Steve being unable to distinguish parental love from romantic feelings because he doesn’t know what it’s like to love your parents lead to him going up to Eddie one day like, “Hey, man. I don’t think we can hang out anymore because I’m in love with your uncle.”
Eddie has a blue-screen of death moment years before he’ll even learn what that is and is just like, “What?”
Steve is just like, “yeah, sorry. It sucks because I like hanging out with you and everything.”
Then he goes on to describe how Wayne makes him feel warm and safe. One time, Wayne said he was doing a good job and that he was proud of him, “And I smiled for days after that. It was crazy.”
“Right…” Eddie says slowly. “I don’t think you’re in love with my uncle…. I think you’re just experiencing what it’s like to have a good father figure.”
Steve just blinks at him, “Oh.”
Then he turns around and yells into the back of family video, “Robin! I don’t have bi thoughts, I just have bad parents!”
When Steve discovers "Hips Don't Lie," he's going to love it, and so will Eddie for different reasons. Eddie will absolutely go feral for Steve shaking those hips to the song. It will absolutely become a problem for everyone, too.
*Hips Don't Lie comes on*
Robin: Oh no. Don't you fucking do it, Steve Harrington!
Steve: *seriously* I have to, Robin.
Meanwhile, Eddie's growling and shaking in the corner.
Hopper is ready to slap the cuffs on Richard Harrington right there and then when he’s eating lunch at the diner and sees Steve come in with a cast on his arm.
This might be the second time Hopper has ever seen this kid with his parents and he’s bruised up. Hopper frowns but then Steve spots him and announces loudly across the busy diner, “Hi, Mr. Hopper! Look at my cast!”
He’s shushed almost as soon as he opens his mouth and it is rather unfortunate for the Harringtons (and for Hopper) that one of the only open tables is near him. Steve is thrilled, talking a smidge quieter when he tells Hopper, “Isn’t it cool? Mama says that people can’t sign it ‘cause that’ll make it ugly but you can write your name in my notebook and it’s almost the same thing.”
That’s - god, that’s sound genuinely sad but Hopper signs his notebook anyways and asks, “How’d you break it?”
“Dad hit me with a car.”
Hopper freezes. Angela freezes. Richard freezes and then breaks, and says, “Steven, don’t word it like that.”
“I got a new bike and I was riding it real fast,” Steve tells Hopper, barely acknowledging his dad at all. “And Dad pulled out of the driveway real fast ‘cause him and Mama were fighting again,”
“Steven-“
“I couldn’t stop in time so I ran into the car,” Steve continues. “I flipped over the hood and Mama screamed like in a scary movie. It was awesome.”
“Awesome,” Hopper says flatly.
“I dented the car,” Steve adds. “Dad was real mad about it.”
“I was ang- I was more upset about the broken bone, Steven.”
“Now I get to have ice cream for dinner ‘cause Dad hit me with the car,” Steve says. “Do you want some? Dad is buying.”
“No thanks. But how about this,” Hopper says, eyes never leaving Richard’s as he pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket. “How about I sign your cast for real.”
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