I'm excited to announce that as of today, this fic is complete! Chapters 14 and 15 were just posted. To all my readers: thank you, and enjoy! 🩵
Fic Summary:
“He doesn’t suspect a thing, does he? Your partner.” Ronnie says. He looks around him, at his car, at the pizza, at something far in the distance, but not at her. At least he’s showing some deference. That gives her something to work with.
Scully pulls the muscles of her face into a hard mask. She can’t show weakness. The pizza has led her to Ronnie, and Ronnie can’t be trusted.
“And he can’t know. He will never know. Do you understand me? If you breathe a word of this to Agent Mulder, I’ll put a stake through your heart myself. I’ll chop you into multiple pieces and drop those pieces into separate seas.”
Alternate universe where Scully has been a vampire the entire time, right under her partner's nose.
Chapter 14 Excerpt:
Flames lick the walls as Mulder crawls down the hallway. Probably should have listened when Scully told me to stay home, he thinks as he reaches down to touch the wound in his side. There’s more blood than he’d like.
“Mulder? What are you doing here?”
A sharp pain shoots through Mulder’s body when he rolls over, and he winces. Michael stands at the end of the hall with two bodies flung over his shoulders. Mulder can’t quite tell who they are from just seeing their legs, but he hopes one of them is Scully. Michael’s mouth and neck are covered in blood.
“Dying, I think,” Mulder replies. “Is Scully all right?”
title: slowly, surely
pairing: mulder/scully
rating: explicit
chapters: 3/3
summary: Mulder and Scully are forced to attend a team building seminar to make up for the one they skipped out on in “Detour.” notes: takes place after "Millennium"
**
At least, as the morning wears on, Scully seems to get back to somewhat of her normal self. She rolls her eyes subtly at Mulder as their tablemates jump to what are obviously the wrong conclusions during the murder case exercise, and then she treats the whole table to a lecture on the deadly outcomes of hypothermia during the desert island thing.
And then, during lunch, which they all have to eat in the hallway while Linda reorganizes the conference room, Scully reaches over and steals a couple of chips out of his lunch box, and Mulder feels like some of the weight has been lifted off his chest. Sure, last night was a mess, but they’re still them, and Mulder’s sure that when they finally get a chance to get away from these other agents after lunch, he and Scully will be able to work everything out.
Steve let out a frustrated growl as he slid back behind the wheel of his car. The sun beat down on the dusty dashboard—keeping his car clean was low on his list of priorities lately—and the hot leather stung his hands as he gripped the steering wheel tight. Robin climbed into the passenger seat beside him, looking thoroughly unbothered by their continued failure.
They were already several days into their search for new jobs and the pickings were slim, to say the least. While Steve had been out of work since their ill-fated spring break, Robin had still been employed at Family Video right up until the moment Steve asked Keith for his old job back, and Keith had practically thrown him out the door.
Robin quit on the spot, and told Keith to go fuck himself.
Honestly, it’d been glorious, and a long time coming. Still, Steve felt terrible about it, but Robin was heading off to college soon enough anyway, and by her own admission, ‘the look on that giant goober’s face was totally worth it.’
“It’s no use,” Steve sighed, violently shoving his keys into the ignition. “We’re gonna have to widen our search area. Which means, even if we do find something, we’ll have to commute. Then I’ll be spending even more money on gas. And when you figure we’ll be lucky to make minimum wage, is that… is that even worth it? God, this is such a disaster. I mean—”
“Dingus?” Robin asked, interrupting his well-earned spiral.
“What?”
“Breathe.”
“Right,” he exhaled, taking in another deep breath and blowing it out slow. “Sorry.”
Robin reached over the center console to pat his knee, her hand a warm and familiar comfort, grounding in a way he hadn’t known he needed. “You sounded like me for a second there and it was kinda freaking me out. You’ve been unemployed for months, what’s with the sudden bug up your butt about getting a job anyway?”
It wasn’t exactly sudden. He’d been feeling guilty for a while now about his new living situation. It had been one thing to skate by on his meager and rapidly dwindling savings when he was living under his parents roof. He’d only had to worry about food and gas back then after all, but now that he was living with Eddie and Wayne he desperately wanted to contribute to the bills he knew were piling up.
It’d been a month since he and Eddie had packed up his things on a whim and moved him into the Munson home while an unsuspecting Wayne was at work. The older man had barely batted an eye when he arrived in the morning and found the two of them in the trailer’s small kitchen together, making a big over-the-top breakfast for the three of them to share. Steve’s way of preemptively thanking Eddie’s uncle for not kicking him out.
Wayne had welcomed him with open arms, just as Eddie said he would, and he already felt happier and more at home in that cramped cozy trailer than he ever had in the nineteen years he’d spent living in the horror house that was his parent’s place. Not just because the only plaid he was subjected to now was the warm flannel of Wayne’s work shirts, or the fact that he and Eddie had worked their shit out either.
But because he felt like part of a real family for the first time since he was a little kid.
Steve sighed heavily, running a sweaty palm over his face. “I don’t want Wayne feeling like he has to support me too. It's not fair for me to put that kind of pressure on him when he’s already given me a place to stay. And it’s not like Eddie can go out and get a job—not here. He wanted to go back to selling but it wouldn’t be safe. I made him promise me not to, but I’m scared he’ll do it anyway if I don’t find some other way to make us money.”
Robin was quiet for a moment, then nodded, her steady hand still resting on his knee. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. We always do.”
If only her optimism was contagious, maybe he could stop his stomach from tying itself into knots. Still, he smiled, kicking the car into gear and pulling back out onto the road.
“Where to next?” She asked, finally taking her hand back and settling into her seat.
Steve drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, still considering their very limited options. “That was the last help wanted listing. I just have to stop off at the realtor’s office to pick something up. Then, I guess, we can take a ride over to Clark County and try our luck there.”
“I can’t believe your parents sold your childhood home out from under you and yet you’re still willing to be their little errand boy,” Robin huffed with an audible eye roll.
It was a point she’d made at least a dozen times throughout the whole process with his parents and the house. He knew she was just mad on his behalf but it was beginning to become irritating. She wasn’t wrong, they were definitely using him, but after years of crap he was nearly free, why would he risk rocking the boat now?
“Trust me, this is for the best. The last thing I need is for dear old dad to come blowing into town, see me with Eddie, and freak out.”
Robin hummed, resting her head against the window as the downtown storefronts went by. “So I take it you haven't told them anything about where you’re living?”
As if they cared. Steve was pretty sure they were just relieved that he hadn’t asked to come and stay at their new house. That he wasn’t their problem anymore.
“Nope,” he said, a little more bitter sounding than he’d meant. “And they haven't asked.”
“Assholes,” Robin muttered.
Steve hummed his agreement, letting a comfortable silence settle between them. Because, really, what else was there to say? She was right. Total assholes.
The moment Steve opened the door to Hawkins Realty he was hit with the arctic blast of an overzealous air conditioner and the overwhelming smell of Pinesol. The office was empty, save for a lone receptionist painting her nails a bright, fire engine red. She hardly glanced up at him before handing over an envelope with his name scrawled on the front, like it was no big deal. Like she wasn’t about to change the entire trajectory of his future.
Ten. Thousand. Dollars.
He froze in the middle of the street, staring down at the check in his hand like it might self-destruct if he ever looked away. It didn’t feel real. As well off as his parents had been his whole life, Steve had never seen so much money in person. Technically, he still hadn’t, since all he was holding was a slip of paper and not stacks of green bills, but the feeling was the same.
It wasn’t millions. It wouldn’t replace a good job or solve all their problems, but it was life changing money. If he could convince Eddie and Wayne to let him spend it the way he wanted to, that is.
“So—what’s the story?” Robin asked the second he got back into the car, curiosity practically vibrating off of her in waves.
“I guess they got more for the house than they expected?” Steve said slowly, handing her the envelope. “Or maybe they just felt guilty for leaving me behind. Either way, um—”
Her eyes grew wide when she caught sight of the amount. “No. Way.”
He grinned, a giggle bubbling up from his throat. “Way!”
For a second her face lit up, happiness for him radiating from every pore. She looked like she was about to throw herself across the car and into his lap for a hug, but suddenly that look started to dim around the edges, her shoulders slumping as her smile faded. “You’re going to leave, aren't you?”
“Rob, I—”
She shook her head, rushing forward to grip his hand where it rested on the center console. “No, sorry. I-I get it. You have to get Eddie out of here.”
“Yeah, I think I do,” he whispered with a small nod, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “And with you going off to college soon, and the little shits not far behind, there’s really nothing keeping me here anymore.”
She squeezed his hand a little tighter, breath hitching softly. “I guess I just assumed you’d always be here, and that I’d get to see you anytime I came home, but… we’re all doing what we can to move on. There's no reason you shouldn’t too. A-and It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
“Do you promise we’ll talk on the phone every day?” She asked, pulling away to look up at him with a wobbly lip.
Of course they would, there was no world where he and Robin could go more than twenty four hours without speaking to each other, but he hated to see her look sad. He’d had enough of the heavy.
He shot her a teasing grimace, sucking air through his teeth. “Every day?”
“Promise—me,” she growled, sounding about as aggressive as a miniature poodle.
“I dunno,” he hedged, mostly just to whisk her up some more.
She punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
“Ow! Jesus!” He shouted. “Eddie hasn’t even agreed to any of this yet, y’know.”
She scoffed. “Oh, please. When has he ever been able to say no to you?”
Was she serious?
Steve swallowed a laugh, shooting her flat look and a single raised eyebrow.
“Okay, jeez, poor choice of words,” she mumbled. “But, you know what I mean. He loves you. Of course he’ll agree to run away with you and live happily ever after.”
Along with the money came a change of plans for the day. After a quick stop at the bank to make the single largest deposit he’d ever made, Steve dropped Robin off at her house, putting their mission to find gainful employment aside for the day. If they really were both leaving Hawkins, and Steve even sooner than her if he had anything to say about it, there really was no point anymore.
Instead he spent the rest of his afternoon grocery shopping and practicing what he was going to say to convince Eddie and Wayne to go along with his plan.
It was probably a little over the top, the meal Steve had put together. Half in celebration, half as a peace offering. Or maybe bribe was the better word for it. Steak, potatoes, a salad with actual greens that he knew Eddie wasn’t going to touch, but it looked nice. All things they didn’t typically indulge in because it wasn’t in the budget.
He’d even stocked the fridge with name brand soda and ice cream for dessert.
The door to the trailer creaked open right on time. It’d been a bit of an adjustment for all of them when Wayne got his schedule changed from working nights to days, but it was clear from the lack of bags under his eyes that the older man was happier and healthier for it.
“What’s all this about, boys?”
Steve turned away from the stove and the mash he was stirring butter into to see Wayne eyeing the set table and the elaborate spread with a mix of delight and suspicion. He paused at the kitchen threshold to toe his work boots off before plopping down into his usual seat next to Eddie.
“Don’t look at me,” Eddie grumbled from where he’d been sat, pouting and sighing dramatically for the last hour while Steve prepped and cooked. “This is all his doing, and he won’t tell me a damn thing!”
Steve stifled a grin, turning the heat off on the pot of potatoes before setting it out with everything else. Without a word, he went for the fridge, cracking open two of the ice cold cans of Pepsi he’d stashed in there, and sliding one across the table to each of the Munsons, both looking more dubious than ever, and finally sat down to join them.
Wayne stared at him for a long moment but eventually shrugged, taking a long sip from his can and letting out a loud satisfied burp. “Well, I'd be worried you were about to tell me I was gonna be a grandpa before my time if it wasn’t, y’know, biologically impossible,” the older man said, tilting his head a little to add, “not for lack of trying, though.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbled, dropping his face into his hands.
From his neck to his ears Steve’s skin flushed with embarrassment, and he knew though there were no mirrors in sight, that his face was as red as the tomatoes he’d chopped for their salad.
“Thin walls,” Wayne leaned over to stage whisper in Steve’s direction, giving him a sympathetic, if patronizing, pat on the arm.
Eddie pushed his chair back roughly from the table to stand and slapped his hands down on its surface. “Well, this has been great, but I think I'm gonna go jump in the quarry now.”
Steve blinked up at him, caught for a long beat between hysterical laughter and the urge to yell at him for saying something like that in front of Wayne, joke or not, after everything they’d gone through. All embarrassment forgotten, he held his breath, waiting for the older man’s reaction.
“Too soon?” Eddie asked into the tense silence, which shattered an instant later as Wayne broke out in a knee-slapping guffaw, the same time Steve lost his own battle with a fit of giggles.
They settled eventually, after Steve insisted they eat before he shared his news, into the kind of quiet that goes hand in hand with any good meal. Forks tapping, knives scraping, and the occasional grunt of delicious approval. In no time, their plates were empty, and Steve’s heart was beating so hard he thought it might start rattling the silverware.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Eddie began, the first to speak once they’d all set their forks down. “Dinner was incredible, but will you please tell us what gives before I have another nervous breakdown?”
“Watch it,” Wayne warned, leaning back in his seat as though his stomach were too full to sit up anymore. He pulled a soft pack of Camels from his breast pocket, passing a cigarette to Eddie before taking one for himself and finally offering the pack to Steve with a raised eyebrow.
Steve took it gratefully, lighting up in hopes that the nicotine would settle his nerves.
It didn’t, but he pressed on anyway.
“So, um, as you know, my parents sold their house,” he began, feeling like a babbling idiot, but what else was new. “And today while I was out with Rob, I had to pick up some paperwork for them at the real estate office. Except, it wasn’t paperwork exactly, right? And I don’t know why they couldn’t just tell me—”
Eddie cut him off mid-ramble, lunging across the table to grab his hand. “Stevie, baby, love of my fucking life, whatever it is—please—spit it out. The suspense is literally killing me.”
Wayne shook his head. “Boy, I swear to christ…”
“It’s fine, Wayne,” Steve groaned, because Eddie was right. He was making this painful for no reason. He put them all out of their misery by pulling the deposit slip from the bank out of his pocket, and thrusting into Eddie’s hand.
“T-t-ten grand!” Eddie sputtered, the ash hanging from the end of his cigarette trembling dangerously close to falling on the table. “You’ve been sitting here on ten grand the whole time we were eating?!”
Steve squirmed under the weight of his gaze and gave a small nod, pulling his hands back to wipe his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. “I want to use it to move. Together, I mean. All of us.”
The room went very still, only the curling wisps of smoke coming off Wayne and Eddie’s cigarettes dared to move.
“That means you too, Wayne.”
“Yeah,” Wayne choked out, pausing to clear his throat. “Yeah, I got that, son.”
The older man eyed the slip of paper that still sat in Eddie’s hand, like it was a snake rearing to strike, then looked at Steve, his mouth pulling tight at the corners.
“You sure ‘bout this?” Wayne asked.
“Completely,” Steve said without hesitation.
“It don’t sit right with me, letting you foot the bill for something like this.”
“I don’t see it that way.” Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Actually, you’d be doing me a favor. I want to build a new life for myself, for Eddie, and I want you in it. Besides, I don’t think Eddie would go for it otherwise and I'm kinda attached to him.”
Wayne huffed, a sharp sound that could have been a laugh, but Steve was pretty sure it was him fighting off tears. “You’re a good kid, Steve.”
Steve ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Alright.” Wayne gave a single decisive nod. “I’ll come. I’d follow you boys into hell if I had to, but I’m paying you back. Every damn cent.”
“Deal,” Steve agreed quickly, though he knew he’d never take a dime from the man if he could help it.
That settled, they both turned back to Eddie, who hadn’t said a word since his initial outburst. He was still holding the deposit slip, staring at Steve with a strangely unreadable, distant expression.
“What do you think, Eddie? Are you ready to finally get out of here?”
Eddie blinked, his eyes coming into focus suddenly like he’d been miles away, but he recovered quickly, those dimples Steve loved so much making themselves known. “Yeah, fuck this place. Let’s do it!”
Later, after dinner had been cleared and Wayne was posted up in front of the TV—either to watch his shows or, more likely, fall asleep five minutes in and then grumble that his new recliner was too comfortable—Steve took Eddie’s hand and led him to their room.
All he wanted now was to crawl into bed and hold Eddie close, to drift away into fantasies of the future with the boy he loved wrapped in his arms.
They moved around each other in the small room like a well-rehearsed dance, constantly touching, shoulders brushing, fingers grazing over bare skin as they undressed for bed. Just because they could. Because here in the privacy of the trailer, of their room, they could be themselves in a way that was simply impossible in public in rural indiana. Even if Eddie hadn’t been persona non grata.
Steve settled on his side of the bed, propped on one elbow. He was about to ask if Wayne could handle living in a big city, some place with whole neighborhoods full of people like them, and a population large enough that they could be as anonymous as they liked—when he realized Eddie hadn’t joined him. He hovered near the end of the bed, nervous fingers toying with the frayed waistband of his shorts, his smile too thin to be real.
“Hey,” Steve said gently, softly patting the spot next to him in invitation. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Eddie did finally crawl his way into bed, but didn’t nestle in close like he usually would. He left an unnatural sliver of space between them, one that felt miles wide.
“Baby?”
“Sorry, I’m just…” Eddie blew out a long breath, twirling a clump of knotted curls around his finger. “Nervous, I guess.”
“About moving?” Steve asked. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, and if he was honest, he’d been a little surprised at Eddie’s quick acceptance back in the kitchen.
“About all of it. Like—” Eddie’s eyes flicked toward him, and quickly away. “What if it’s not any better somewhere else? What if, wherever we go, people still hate me? What if I screw this up between us and then you’re stuck with me and Wayne, miles away from everything you’ve ever known?”
Steve scooted closer until their thighs touched, and reached up to cup Eddie’s cheek, gently coaxing him to meet his eyes. “You won’t screw it up,”
“You can’t know that.”
Steve didn’t rush to argue. They’d been here before and he knew this was only Eddie’s doubts talking. That voice that lived in the back of his mind, always trying to twist things and make him think the worst of himself.
Instead, Steve just leaned in and touched their foreheads together. “You don’t have to be perfect, Ed. You just have to be here.”
Eddie let out a slow breath, his eyes fluttering shut. “I’m trying.”
“I know,” Steve whispered, his nose brushing lightly over Eddie's. He smiled softly at the truth of those words and the memory of how far they’d come. “And you’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”
Eddie nodded, finally opening his eyes, and leaned in to capture Steve’s mouth in a tender kiss. It was soft at first, gentle, loving, but deepened quickly. Eddie’s hand slipped to the back of his neck, fingers curling into the soft hair there, tugging just enough to draw a breathy sound from his throat.
Steve’s lips parted easily at the demand of Eddie’s tongue, arms looping around Eddie’s waist to pull him closer, until there was no more space left between them.
Their mouths moved in sync, unhurried but deliberate, a promise made with the press of lips and the slow slide of tongues. Whatever happened, they would face it together.
When they were inevitably forced to pull apart and catch their breath, Eddie’s voice came rough-edged and low, but noticeably lighter too.
“So, speaking of surprises, when are you going to tell me this secret plan you’ve got for the game next week?”
Steve grinned, already picturing it. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Eddie could feel the sudden warm weight of eyes on his back as he pulled his brand new, freshly screen-printed Hellfire Club shirt up over his head. It was the first time he’d worn one since his own had gotten torn to shreds in the Upside Down.
Not long ago, a passing thought of that night would have threatened to send him spiraling, triggered that hollowed-out ache behind his ribs. But by some miracle of time and effort and healing, he had managed to come to some sense of peace with it—mostly.
And not to get too love conquers all about it, but he was pretty sure having Steve in his life, learning to trust, learning to believe he was worth being loved in a way he’d never dreamed, had a lot to do with it too.
The presence behind him came closer, the scent of Steve’s shampoo filling his nose as a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, sighing as he sank into his boyfriend's touch. “Are you finally ready for me?”
Steve held him tighter in response, his mouth ghosting over the shell of Eddie’s ear as he ground his already half-hard cock against his ass. “I’m always ready for you.”
“Such a fucking tease,” Eddie groaned, resisting the overwhelming urge to press back against him. Instead, he turned in Steve’s hold, throwing his arms around warm bare shoulders.
God bless tank tops.
“You know I meant for the game, Stevie.”
“I know,” Steve whispered on an exhale, tucking his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. His lips brushed the skin there, soft and slow. “I’m pretty sure Dustin would come looking for us if we postponed to fuck right now anyway.”
A whine crawled up Eddie’s throat, his mind consumed with thoughts of Steve bending him over their bed, yanking his pants down, and bullying his way inside with little to no prep. Taking what he wanted with that perfect blend of care and control that drove Eddie wild.
Fuck, he wanted that.
“Later?” He asked, a desperate lilt to his voice.
“Promise,” Steve said, pressing one last kiss just below his ear. “As soon as we’re done playing Druids and Dorks, I’ll put you right through that mattress, baby.”
Eddie’s entire body shivered in anticipation. So much so, that it took a moment for all of Steve’s words to sink in.
“Wait. Did you just say—we?”
The sun was low enough in the sky to create a false twilight as they traipsed through the thick trees that lined the back end of the trailer park, leaves and twigs rustling underfoot with each step they took.
The place wasn’t called Forest Hills for nothing.
If it had been anyone else leading Eddie through the woods without a word of explanation, he might have been nervous, suspicious even. But this was Steve. After everything they’d been through, he trusted him wholeheartedly. More even than he trusted himself.
And wasn’t that wild?
Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn't going to badger the shit out of him with questions the whole time.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the concern for my physical health, sweetheart,” Eddie said, picking his way over a thick tangle of roots. “But couldn't we take a mysterious woodland stroll some other time? Like, after the game?”
Steve snorted a laugh, but remained infuriatingly silent.
And they called Eddie dramatic.
Eddie’s mouth pinched, narrowing eyes sliding to his left, boring into the side of his boyfriend’s head. “Won’t the kids be at the trailer any minute?”
A warm hand sliding against the small of his back was all the reply he got, lightly guiding him as they stepped over a fallen tree trunk together.
He ground his teeth and barely resisted the urge to stomp his feet as he whirled on the spot to face the current bane of his existence. Who he loved. Who thought he was so fucking funny.
“Seriously, Steve. Where are we—” He began to demand, only for Steve’s palm to land squarely on his mouth, effectively cutting him off. Steve met his eyes for a long moment, tilting his own head to the side with an ear cocked as if he were listening for some far off sound.
That’s when Eddie heard it.
Distant music playing low on a shitty radio. Shuffling feet. The metallic crinkle of soda cans. The general sounds of people having a good time close by. And the very distinct sound of Robin’s wheezy, snorting laughter.
Eddie felt his eyes go wide, his stomach performing somersaults as his mind raced through the implications.
Steve grinned, finally pulling his hand away, replacing it with his lips in a quick peck. “I hope you’re up for improvising,” he said, eyes alight as he pulled back. “There’s a few more players than you were expecting.”
A few more players turned out to be a bit of an understatement.
They walked hand in hand together for only a few more yards before coming to the edge of a clearing, glittering lights in the trees already visible through the leaves and branches as Steve dropped his hand, letting him be the first to step through a gap in the brush.
It was the D&D setup of anyone’s dreams.
The trees had been strung with white christmas lights, criss-crossing overhead in gentle loops. A long grand table made up of three wide picnic tables pushed together sat in the center of the space, covered in a rich black cloth and adorned with candles of every shape and size. Their flickering flames reflected off of the dice scattered along the table, glinting like little gemstones.
And at the head of the table, perched in theatrical glory, sat his throne. The battered but beautiful prop he’d commandeered from the drama department for every meeting of Hellfire since its inception, with its carved wood frame and dusty red velvet upholstery.
“Holy shit,” Eddie whispered in disbelief.
Everyone was there. Apart from Hopper and Mrs. Byers, the entire Upside Down crew was present and accounted for. All with a completed character sheet in front of them, and all looking genuinely excited to be there. Even Max, who would have sooner played Barbies with Holly Wheeler than sit in on a D&D campaign, let alone participate in one, was seated at the table.
How had Steve pulled this off without him knowing? Where had all this stuff even come from? Where were they hiding all their cars? So many questions came to mind, including what all the spare empty chairs were for, but what ultimately came out of his mouth was—
“How the hell did you manage to get my throne out of the school?!”
Before Steve could answer, a voice from the other side of the trees did it for him.
“We might have helped with that part.”
Eddie could hardly believe his ears. He turned, stunned.
Like ghosts from another life, Gareth stood just beyond the tree line, a frown on his face and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Jeff and Grant flanked him on either side, looking equal parts hopeful and unsure.
“Gare?”
It’d only really been—what—five or six months since the last time Eddie’d seen the guys? You’d have thought it was ten years by the way he froze, staring, before shaking himself out of it and rushing over to greet them. As much as he wanted to throw his arms around his best friends—former best friends?—he stopped himself short, nerves settling in to tie his guts in a knot.
He wondered suddenly if the band was still together. If Corroded Coffin had gone on to make music without him.
If they played better without him.
If they were glad that he’d disappeared.
A frown tugged at his lips, his heart sinking as he recognized the poison in his own thoughts. He wasn’t completely immune to it, but he knew better now than to give in to those darker thoughts without a fight. These were his friends. They cared about him. They wouldn’t have been there otherwise.
He risked a quick glance back at Steve for reassurance and found it right away in his boyfriend's nearly painfully fond smile. It was more than enough to give him the boost he needed to face Gareth, and his thin lipped expression.
“I can’t believe you guys are here.”
Grant shot a warm smile over the top of Gareth’s head. Jeff did the same, even parting his lips to speak, only to be cut off by Gareth backhanding him across the chest. And Eddie was torn between laughing, and swelling with pride at his best friend, who had stepped into his protective role with such effortless gusto.
Gareth, though, remained stoic, giving a small, dismissive shrug. “It’s not every day Steve Harrington shows up at your door asking for a favor.”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, breaking into a lopsided grin as he pictured the bizarre scene. “He’s persuasive when he wants to be.”
Gareth’s bushy eyebrows drew together as he studied Eddie’s face, his expression softening by degrees, while his eyes lingered on a spot near Eddie’s mouth. “What happened to you, man?”
Oh—right.
Unconsciously, Eddie raised a hand to cover his cheek, the grin slipping away in an instant. He’d almost forgotten about that particular bite scar. It’d faded into light pink lines that were more often than not camouflaged by stubble, but still pulled on his lip funny when he smiled too wide.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say at first.
“What exactly are you sorry for, hmm?”
That he’d dragged them all down with him by association. Gotten them branded satanists and devil worshippers because he’d been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. That he couldn’t even tell them what really happened to Chrissy, to him, to Hawkins.
Eddie shuffled his feet, fighting off a renewed sense of unease. “Everything, I guess. I heard about Jason and his goon squad roughing you guys up when they were looking for me.”
“Okay, yeah, that sucked a big fat one,” Gareth scoffed, but his attitude had lost its edge. “That’s not what we’re pissed off about though.”
“I–I don’t…” Eddie stuttered, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Gareth rolled his eyes. “No shit, dumbass.”
“Then what—”
“You disappeared, Eddie. And I don’t mean when you went into hiding or whatever before the earthquake, I mean after. Dude, we thought you were dead till Jeff’s mom ran into Wayne at the gas station. Had to find out you were in the hospital from Henderson, who was a little cagey about the details, might I add.”
Jeff bobbed his head, chiming in. “Your whole crew acts like they’re in the NSA. What’s up with that?”
“Not now, Jeff,” Gareth hissed.
“Sorry.”
“It’s been months, Eddie,” Gareth went on, unrelenting. “Why didn’t you call us?”
Eddie swallowed thickly, looking down. “I was kinda working through some shit? And I guess… I guess I didn’t think you’d want me around anymore?”
The words felt pathetic, even to his own ears, but it was the only truth his messed up brain had let him see for a while. And after that, it just felt like too much time had passed to fix things.
Gareth’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Eddie for a long moment before finally his facade broke, his lips curling into a small smile as he shook his head. “Well, I’ll say it again. You’re a fucking dumbass. But you’re our dumbass.”
Eddie surged forward, wrapping his arms around Gareth, and felt Grant and Jeff close in behind him, making him the center of a full-grown group hug.
“God, I missed you guys.”
“We missed you too, asshole,” Grant replied, voice muffled by Eddie’s hair.
Eddie's heart felt like it was mending in real time, fuller than it had ever been in his life.
The four eventually made their way to the long table, finding their seats amid familiar laughter and new chatter. Eddie dropped onto his throne like a king returning to court—though he’d always considered himself more of a jester than a monarch—preening when Steve took the chair beside him and knocked their knees together under the table. The air was clear and joyful, and Eddie soaked in every bit of it, basking in the noise, the mess, the life of it all.
He let them all go on for a minute longer, then cleared his throat, loud and demanding.
“Quiet!”
The silence was instant.
In the hush that fell over the clearing, he stood, rising to his full height to lean over his battered and worn DM screen, fingers steepled in front of him as he shared a heavy gaze with each person assembled around the table in turn. Steve grinned when their eyes met, and as much as Eddie wanted to share in that warmth with his own smile he kept his face like stone. This was his domain. He had a story to tell—a show to put on, and a crop of new players to seduce.
“The Village of Briar Glen is quiet, unnervingly so considering the late summer air. It would usually be bustling with activity, with villagers young and old working tirelessly to prepare for the coming winter. But of course, that is precisely why you are all here. Your party heard tell of a creature stalking the woods surrounding the small hamlet, and terrorizing its citizens. Livestock has been taken, whole chicken coops destroyed, and no less than two hunters have gone out to track the beast, never to be seen again.”
He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he paused for effect, relishing the tense silence as his audience waited with bated breath for him to continue.
He still had it.
“You see a shape moving through the dark with a low rumbling growl. The moon is hiding most of her light behind the clouds but there is just enough for you to make out the tufts of fur raised along its back, and feathers ruffling near its neck.”
“Fur and feathers?” Steve asked, mouth screwed up in confusion.
Eddie raised both arms above his head, dropping his voice down into a deep snarl. “It lets out an ear piercing scream.”
Mike groaned. “Seriously? An Owlbear? That’s baby shit, Eddie.”
“Can it Wheeler,” Eddie snapped, cracking his knuckles. He leaned back, spreading his arms wide. “So, my ragtag bunch of adventurers, what do you do?”
The campaign unfolded like many before it—chaotic, messy, joyful. Dice clattered across the table as players argued, laughed, shouted over each other, and threw themselves into the roles of their characters with surprising intensity. The world outside their little bubble disappearing behind a tapestry of friendship and fun.
Hours passed in a blink, and of course, the party triumphed. Eddie never doubted them. The owlbear fell with a final dramatic blow, and the table erupted into cheers and applause. Fists were raised, leftover snacks flung into the air, a sweet victory shared by all.
Eddie finally let himself relax, leaning into Steve, resting his head against the other boy’s shoulder as the celebration continued to echo in the clearing all around them. Their friends, both new and old, still riding the high of their victory over the rampaging owlbear that had terrorized the outskirts of a small town.
And, for a moment, he felt nothing but perfect contentment.
He knew it wouldn’t always be like this. Life had sharp edges. He’d still battle with his depression sometimes. There’d be bad days, days when even getting out of bed would feel like an impossible feat. He and Steve would argue, lose their patience, hurt each other, and sometimes say things they didn’t mean.
But none of that scared him the way it used to.
Because deep down he knew that no matter what life threw at them, they’d always find their way back to this. To each other. Not just in grand, perfect ways like this, but in small, steady ones too. In shared laughter and pain, in acceptance and fierce forgiveness. In choosing, again and again, to love each other through it all.
Genuinely shocked how fast i wrote this, and how many people followed it in the process. What started as a crack headcannon really because a quite angsty story, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out!
