"You know, I ran away too."
Eddie's head perks up at that. Walking through this godforsaken place, danger at every turn, and somehow, as usual, Steve's got his full attention.
"Well, yunno, you said you just—I mean you're upset, at yourself, for running away." Steve's words are jumbled, and his brow furrows like he's trying to figure out where he's going with this as they spill out. "I've run away from so much of my life, it's kind of insane."
Eddie bites back a scoff, settling for crossing his arms instead. "What, you ran away from some interdimensional monster breaking your friend's body, too? Whole town on a manhunt for you?"
"No, not that, dude, Jesus," Steve shakes his head. Eddie feels a little bad, hoping Steve picked up on the bitter ends of a self deprecating joke and not a half-assed insult. He wouldn't blame him though, with the reputation he's had all these years. Steve shrugs towards the older boy, seemingly unfazed. Or maybe just used to it. "Just…with life, you know. I mean, I ran away from everything."
There's an unpacked sack of regret sitting heavy on his words that Eddie picks up on instantly, and his own closed off shoulders drop. He sounds, admittedly, small. The way each and every member of Hellfire did before they found a place to belong for keeps.
"What, um," Eddie purses his lips, "What kind of stuff?"
Steve sucks in a breath. "School. My parents. My dad, mainly. My shitty friends, just…everything. Even Nance." There's a silence, but Eddie doesn't speak. He sees the rest of the thought on the tip of the boy's tongue and doesn't dare take it away from him. "I guess mostly myself? Maybe that sounds dumb."
"It's not dumb." His tone is firm.
Steve looks over at Eddie curiously. Eddie's eyes meet his, as if to say keep going. So he does.
"I dunno. I just. I was always so focused on what everybody else saw me as. Of this made-up royalty I'm supposed to be, the prom king who's got everything he wants in the palm of his hand, and if I didn't keep that up, then what was I?"
It's just them and the fucked up trees. Yeah, these trees are definitely fucking listening.
"And then that was toast, because it's all bullshit that doesn't matter. So I stopped caring about it, which I should have done a long time ago, and then just…I dunno, there's not much left besides that. And that's depressing as shit, so," His chuckle is humorless, "Easier to just pretend it's not happening than to look at yourself in the mirror sometimes, I guess."
And that, Eddie decides, is the moment that the entire facade of this bullshit King Steve routine fully disappeared. The moment he realized that Steve was exactly like everyone else. Like him, even.
There was no royalty or freakazoid here. No Harrington or Munson. There was Steve, and there was Eddie.
And Steve was more than bullshit by his standards.
Eddie stops, abruptly, prompting Steve to nearly trip over a branch and do the same. His eyebrow raises as he watches the metalhead search the ground for something. "What're you doing, man?"
Without looking up, he responds, "Looking for a stick. Like a normal one?"
"Ah! This'll do." Eddie grabs himself a broken branch with the least amount of disgusting sludge on it. He starts walking towards Steve, who takes a step back.
Steve coughs, "I'm sorry?"
"I said, your royal nothingness, to kneel," There's a grin on his lips. It's wild, and looks much better on him than the trembling lips and fear stuck in his eyes these past couple days. It's…cute. So as weird as it is, Steve does as he says. The small squish under his knees is a sound he hopes to one day forget with a large amount of therapy.
"Steve Harrington," Eddie starts, holding the stick outright, "King of Hawkins High. I bequeath you this opportunity—nay, this demand."
"Yes, this demand, of your humble, devoted subjects"—he bows, dramatically, flipping his hair down then back up and of course smacking Steve in the face with it (and it is strangely very soft)— "to rid yourself of your birthright."
Eddie lowers the branch over his left shoulder. "Rescind your crown."
Steve blinks, trying to recall if he's ever even heard someone use that word, and then realizes what the hell he's getting at. "How do I…do that, exactly?"
"Simply say it, and it will be done." Eddie grins and waggles the rotting wood around for good measure. "Power of the stick, dude."
"Okay. I, um, rescind my crown?"
Eddie throws his whole body upwards, "With conviction!"
"I rescind my crown!" Steve all but shouts. He's smiling now, laughing at the absurdity, and how it actually makes him feel better. Eddie is too, and the boy returns the grotesque stick beside Steve's head.
"And you denounce your status as perpetuator of bullshit?"
Steve snorts, "God, please."
Eddie nods. The stick moves to just above the other shoulder. "Then I hereby absolve thyself of your royal nature. With it, all avenues of douchebaggery are sealed. You are now…"
Eddie drops the so-called magic stick and reaches out a hand towards him. It's such a simple gesture. Literally just a handshake waiting for him. But Steve looks at his hand, then up at Eddie and his unforgiving grin, and a warmth like no other bubbles up behind his ribs. He takes Eddie's hand and gets slowly pulled up to his feet.
Steve doesn't think he's ever seen any eyes as deeply brown as Eddie's. They're eye-level once more, and it's like everything's changed in the span of a few minutes. He doesn't even register that he's staring until Eddie's tilting his head towards him, once again intruding his personal space.
"Earth to Harrington, you still with me?"
Steve smiles, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm with you."
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