so i hyperfixated on the guitar for like three weeks and read some stuff about songwriters and chords and like 'typical shapes' for certain guitar players (john frusciante specifically) and my lingering steddie rot came out so (this is a REACH but):
In 1988, Vecna bites the dust one final time, El knits the fabric of reality back together, and Steve, for the first time since he picked up the nail bat, relaxes.
Well, that's not strictly speaking true. Hyper-vigilance is no longer a response, it's just a personality trait at this point. But years pass and he eases, starts to be able to sleep through the night, doesn't have to map out escape routes and pick out improvised weaponry in every room he goes into anymore.
They all have their little leftovers, like Lucas and Dustin's regular radio check ins, Max's evolving music player collection.
For Steve, it's music itself. He's got something playing at all hours of the day, can't stand the silence of his house or the car or any of the jobs he works over the years. He even picked up the guitar a little, after Eddie-
Well, after.
They needed someone around who could play songs, just in case. Not that Steve's playing was going to be saving anyone but it was worth a shot. He keeps it around, even after they defeat Vecna, in the corner of his room, just like the bat he has in the trunk of his car. It's something he noodles around on, learning slowly.
Then, it's 1991 and Steve is on his way to work, local radio turned up to eleven, listening to a new song put out by some pop artist. It's a good track, different for the singer, and features a little guitar. It sticks with him the whole day, echoes in his head in the rare moments of quiet, his walk from his car to his job, in the bathroom, the grocery store.
It's not even the lyrics, it's just a part from the backing of the song, some guitar riff that he can't get out of his head, something he'd maybe want to try and teach himself. By the time he's heading back home, it all sounds like mush in his head, he's not even sure that's what the song sounds like anymore.
He gets home to his little house he shares with Robin, and forgets all about it.
Until the next day, when he's driving again and a different song comes on, different artist, different genre. It sticks this time, something from the chorus, some ah ah ahs, looped and repeated, three short, three long, three short, and Steve scrawls the name of the artist down on a napkin he's got in his cup holder. Because there's something about it that's tickling at the back of his brain.
It bothers him all through out work, dinner, and into the night until he's getting into his car at 9 pm. Robin is out on a date, so he's soloing it to the music store. He gets there in a kind of manic state, bursting through the door to a very surprised employee, whose more than a little upset Steve is coming in so close to closing.
And Steve just slaps the napkin on the counter, has no idea what the song was called, and leaves the store with the artist's new CD and listens through until he finds the song, and skips back and listens to it again and again, but can't quite figure it out.
Then, the next day, when Steve gets in his car, he puts on the radio again. Eventually he hears that other song, thinks he must be losing it if they sounded similar but then he hears it, that guitar in the backing and writes that artist down too. Heads back to the store and then back to the floor, where he alternates the cds between his and robins players.
That's where Robin finds him, switching between the two and lays with him on the floor. Asks him what he's doing. He can't really explain it, but he knows Robin won't judge him for it. So he does his best.
She thinks about it, suggests that maybe they're written by the same person, and pulls the little booklet out of the front of the case and they check. Sure enough, it's the same person, an E. H. Smith, only featured once per record. Robin compliments him, says maybe his ears are little geniuses too.
He smiles and they turn in for the night.
Except it keeps bothering him. Why does it feel so familiar?
Thinkin about that one fic I read. Cas had rainbow beehives and he was a beekeeper and he kept a beautiful backyard that all the kids of the neighborhood visited. And then someone complained about the beehives’ color scheme. And so Cas started to paint over them. Then Dean came over and they painted Cas’ whole house rainbow. Thinkin.
tfw u set up ur alarms so that u hit the snooze button but also ur first alarms woke u up from a terrible horrible awful realistic nightmmarw and u cant go back to sleep bc ull be. ack there
