Sister Lovers, Water Brothers
Chapter Two: Crime Scenes and Chicken Parm
Masterlist
Steve wasn't happy with the way Munson was treating one of his kids. So unhappy in fact, that he forces himself into their club leader's van to see what he's getting up to with Chrissy Cunningham, and maybe it's a good thing he's so paranoid because it might just save her life.
Or, the one where Chrissy doesn't die in the Munson trailer, and, despite the world-ending, the king(former) and queen(current) of Hawkins High cannot take their eyes off Eddie Munson
Read on A03
Eddie never in a million years thought he’d step foot into Steve “The Hair” Harrington’s house. Yet here he was, leaning against the counter in the house half of Hawkins' High had partied in not that long ago, feeling wildly out of place. He stared down at the glass of water in his hand, swirling it around in the cup. After they arrived, Steve and Robin had played host to the odd pair. Steve insisted his house had enough rooms for both Eddie and Chrissy to have their own, but Chrissy seemed anxious enough at the idea of being secluded that Robin had quickly jumped in, offering the couches in Steve’s living room as an alternative. Robin then whisked Chrissy away to get her into clothes that weren’t her cheer uniform, leaving Eddie and Steve standing awkwardly in the kitchen. In any other situation, Eddie would have just left. But this wasn’t a normal situation.
When Steve went upstairs to get bedding for the living room, Eddie finally relaxed for a moment, alone for the first time in hours. Part of him wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t some hyper-realistic drug-induced dream, or maybe a very elaborate prank being pulled on him by people he barely knew. But weirdly enough the logical part of his brain knew this wasn’t a fantasy. This was real life. He had felt it in the way Chrissy shuttered thinking about what she went through.
Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Robin and Chrissy come back downstairs. They didn’t notice him standing in the kitchen. He watched for a moment. He had never seen Robin be outwardly kind at school.
“Hey, if you need anything I’m right upstairs, okay?” Robin said, placing a hand on Chrissy’s arm.
“Thank you,” Chrissy responded, fidgeting with her own hands, “for being so nice about this, I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Robin shrugged, almost laughing, “Weird shit is kind of our specialty. You're literally probably in the best hands with me and Steve.”
“That’s reassuring,” Chrissy actually laughed this time, not with the same carelessness as she had earlier when they met up in the woods, but she seemed to be a little less tense.
“I’m glad you think so,” Robin smiled, “I’m gonna head up to get ready for bed, if you or Eddie need anything, really, just yell.”
“Thank you,” Chrissy glanced towards the back yard, “I think I’m gonna go sit outside for a minute actually, try to get some air, you think that’s okay?”
“Oh yeah, of course.” Robin walked towards the sliding back door, hitting a switch that Eddie could just barely see turn on the pool lights.
“Thanks,” Chrissy slid open the door stepping outside as Robin turned to leave.
“Goodnight Chrissy, see you in the morning,” Robin said, more like a promise than a good night.
Eddie watched Chrissy and Robin leave the living room in different directions. He dumped out the water in his glass, leaving it upside down in the sink. He walked out into the middle of the living room, as Chrissy walked towards the pool and then took a seat on the edge of a deck chair.
Steve returned, arms piled with pillows, sheets, and blankets that he threw onto one of the couches with a huff. Then, noticing Eddie’s attention was elsewhere he followed his eyes to where Chrissy was sitting out next to the pool. Seeing her there made him flinch, but she wasn’t too near the water and at least the outside lights were on.
“Don’t… leave her out there, yeah?” he asked Eddie, still watching Chrissy, reminding himself she was alright.
“Sure, man,” Eddie scoffed, and started rifling through the bedding that Steve brought down, only to be interrupted but Steve’s handing him one side of a sheet. Unspeaking, they stretched it out over one of the couches, then Eddie copied Steve’s movements as he tucked it around the cushions.
“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely, if tired. “I’m not trying to boss you around, I just- the world is ending again, and I really, really don’t want to see anyone die.”
“Nothing is going to get her in your backyard,” Eddie tried to brush off his concern.
“That’s where Barbra Holland died,” he replied quickly, knowing there was no kind way to say it. “Sitting by my pool. Where I left her, so yeah, something could get her in my backyard.” Steve could hear Robin calling him bitchy, but he felt it was warranted.
“Fuck man,” Eddie breathed, trying not to let out a nervous laugh. “That's heavy. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Steve shook it off, doing up the second smaller couch on his own. “You didn’t know… but now- I mean, yeah, I was still being a bit of a jerk, but now you get why I’m a bit of a freak about this- the kids being safe.”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughed, “I guess I do.” Their eyes met, and they shared a weak smile in the brevity of the moment amongst the weight of the night. They fell into a brief silence, neither sure of what to do.
“Here,” Steve thrust something into Eddie's hands, “thought you might not want to sleep in chainy jeans.”
“Chainy?” Eddie giggled under his breath but accepted the neatly folded sweatpants. Steve hardly seemed to notice.
“And just ask if you need anything else, you know… I really am sorry, I’m trying not to be a jerk.”
“Nah,” Eddie shrugged, “Just used to herding your sheep.” Steve opened his mouth to say something back but was cut off by Robin hollering down the stairs.
“Steven! We’ve got a big day tomorrow and it is past my bedtime!”
They both laughed at her, hands clasped over their mouths to stifle the sound.
“Guess I should probably go,” Steve said with a final glance outside towards Chrissy.
“Don’t worry, I got her,” Eddie told him with a pat on the shoulder that landed a bit more awkwardly than they both would have liked. “Go get your girl.” Steve cringed at the implication of Robin being his girl, but let it slide,
“Good night, man.”
“Good night.”
Eddie slid open the back door, hoping it made enough noise not to startle her. A surge of panic passed through him when Chrissy didn’t react to the sound, worried she was having another episode.
“Chrissy?” he called, taking a few nervous steps down the stairs.
“Yeah?” she turned over her shoulder, looking up at him in the doorway.
“Hey, fuck ,” Eddie breathed out, relaxing his shoulders, “Sorry I thought we were losing you again.”
“Oh,” Chrissy scoffed, “Yeah, I’m still here, I think.”
“Good,” Eddie fidgeted, suddenly feeling nervous for non-supernatural reasons, “Mind if I join you?”
“Please do,” Chrissy said, “It’s kinda creepy out here alone.”
Eddie took a seat on the edge of the chair next to Chrissy, watching her face as she stared into the pool. The pool lights cast her face in a soft blue glow, the reflections creating gentle movements.
“How’re ya feeling?” Eddie asked, worried about upsetting her, but wanting to check in.
“I’m okay,” Chrissy chewed on her bottom lip, trying to think of the right thigh to say, “I feel better not being alone, but… yeah.”
She trailed off, glancing up at Eddie and then looking away towards the woods. Feeling that there was more she wanted to say, Eddie egged her on.
“Hey, we’ve only really known each other, like, a day,” Eddie offered, “but you can talk to me if you need…want to. About anything.”
“That’s sweet,” She spared a small smile his way, “It’s just that, I can’t tell what's real.”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. He thought he understood what she was saying; with all this weird shit going on he too was having a hard time knowing what was actually true, but he also felt like there was something more to what she was saying.
“I mean, when I was…having an episode? It started like everything was normal, I was still in your van, we were driving to your place.” Chrissy explained, “It was… so normal. And then it wasn’t and I’m just so scared that at any second everything that feels normal now is going to turn out to be that again.”
Eddie could tell how scared she was, He wished he could make it stop. No one deserved to be that frightened, especially not her.
“Hey,” He said softly, reaching a hand across the space between them, and waiting. Luckily Chrissy reached back, placing her hand in his. “I know it might be hard to trust this and I wish there was a better way for me to prove it, but I promise you this is real.”
“Thank you, Eddie,” Chrissy held on tight to his hand, she could feel the cool metal of his rings against her skin, “Really, you shouldn’t have to deal with all of this, with me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked, not letting go of her, “I get to say that I saved Miss Chrissy Cunningham from a demon or an alien or something? Really I should be thanking you for providing me with the coolest backstory known to man...”
For a moment, Eddie was worried she wouldn’t find him funny, but she laughed, “I’m grateful to have been saved by you.”
Eddie held onto her hand for a moment, he could feel the tension fall away from her, to a degree, and was grateful she was beginning to relax again.
“Hey,” Eddie said, suddenly remembering the original intentions of them meeting up after the game, “I know you were hoping for something stronger, but would you settle for some nicotine in place of the ketamine?”
“Oh, uh, I’ve never smoked before. Not even a cigarette.” Chrissy admitted, taking her hand back and fidgeting.
“Really? You really were skipping over all the gateway drugs, huh.” Eddie laughed, fishing in his pocket and pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and his lighter.
Chrissy watched as Eddie placed a cigarette between his lips, the lighter glowing against his face as he pulled the flame in. She couldn’t help but notice the way his dark lashes almost touched his cheek while he looked down at the cigarette in his mouth. Boys always had better eyelashes. He caught her, his eyes flickering over to hers as she watched him. He smiled around the cigarette between his teeth and took a puff before holding it out for her. She stared at the burning cherry, hesitant.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” Eddie said, still holding it out to her.
Chrissy thought for a moment. Earlier today she had been prepared to do ketamine; in comparison a few hits of a cigarette was child's play. She took it from him, bringing it up to her lips and looking at him for approval.
“It’ll be hot and you might cough,” Eddie warned, “But just go slow and you’ll be fine. I promise.”
Chrissy nodded, feeling the pressure of doing this right grow. It had been a long time since she had actually cared about looking dumb in front of a boy. She kicked herself for thinking like that; she had a boyfriend, she shouldn’t be worried about looking good in front of anyone else.
She raised the cigarette to her lips, looking over at him one more time before taking a drag. She watched as the cherry flared a deep orange when she breathed in. It tasted better than she expected, rich and earthy, but it was also hotter than she was prepared for. It instantly stung the back of her throat, making her cough.
“Woah, easy,” Eddie said, putting a hand on her back as she coughed into her hand, holding the cigarette out away from her, “Just breath,” She took a deep breath, trying to clear the feeling. “Hey, that wasn’t that bad! I almost threw up the first time I had a cigarette.”
“Ew,” Chrissy laughed, letting out little teary eyed coughs, “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, I mean, I had the excuse of being 14,” Eddie shrugged laughing and taking the cigarette back from her and taking a drag, “I definitely got better at it.”
“14? That’s so young,”
“Yeah, that was what? 5 years ago?” Eddie mused, taking another drag, “Feels like forever ago. Probably shouldn’t have been left unsupervised back then.”
“You're still alive, right?” Chrissy offered, “things could have ended up worse.”
“Well, aren't you a glass half full kind of gal.” Eddie punctuated his words by tapping her on the knee, and then, “Here Little Miss Sunshine, want to try again.”
“Sure,” She took the cigarette back, feeling a little more confident. She held the cigarette and took a short but heavy drag, letting the smoke enter her lungs and doing the best to keep her composure.
“There ya go, good girl!” Eddie congratulated, his words taking Chrissy off guard. She hid her shock with a cough, smoke spilling past her lips and out her nose, “Feel better yet?”
“Mhm,” Chrissy nodded, watching as he got up and moved to the edge of the pool, hopping around like had earlier today at school, “Thank you, for caring enough to make me feel better, I mean.”
“Anytime sunshine,” Eddie watched Chrissy react to the pet name, turned around to hide the smirk on his face as he stalked around the pool, “Anytime.”
“Of all the Hawkins kids I could have ended up in this situation with,” Chrissy took another short drag, “I’m actually really glad it’s you.”
Eddie paused, taken off guard by the weird but genuinely very sweet compliment, “I feel the same way.”
He reached the end of the pool, looking down at the deck end of the diving board and then back up at Chrissy with a raised eyebrow.
“Eddie don’t .” She warned, unable to keep a wide smile from spreading across her face.
He slowly lifted a foot, tilting his head at her as he took a teasing step up onto the board.
“Eddie,” Chrissy gasped, “What if you fall?!”
“Me? Fall?” He asked with exaggerated cockiness, taking confident steps down the board, the end beginning to dip as he got closer,“No way, I’m practically a cat.”
On queue, Eddie began to lose his balance, flailing his arms and rushing back towards stability. Chrissy gasped, standing up and throwing a hand over her mouth, nearly dropping the cigarette.
Back on the cement deck of the pool Eddie stared at Chrissy for a moment, cheeks red. Chrissy couldn’t help the giggle that spilled past her lips, then the full on laughing just moments later. Eddie joined her, laughing heavy as he walked back over to her.
“Yeah, very cat-like,” Chrissy said as their laughter died down, both now standing next to each other next to the glowing pool. The urge to jump in and take Eddie with her was gnawing at her shoulders. Another night, she told herself.
“Hey, cat’s aren't perfect.” Eddie shrugged, looking down at her, unable to take his eyes away from the soft lines of her face. A pretty hand, the one not holding the cigarette, came up to her mouth as she yawned, “Ready for bed?”
“Definitely,” She said at the end of the yawn, and then lifted her other hand, holding the quarter of the cigarette that was left up towards Eddie, “Want the rest?”
“Oh, sure,” He hesitated and then instead of taking the cigarette from her, leaned down to where she was holding it up to him. Looking at her, he placed the end of it in his mouth, her thin fingers nearly touching his lips as he took a long drag. He pulled back, gently taking the cigarette with him before blowing the smoke out of his nose. He pretended not to notice the way she paused and looked at him. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and pushed into the ashtray on the table.
“Uh, it’s…it’s late, we should get some sleep,” Chrissy said, trying to sound casual.
Eddie nodded, turning towards the house. He resisted the urge to grab Chrissy’s hand as they walked inside.
**
From Steve’s bedroom window, he and Robin can see the two newest members of their highly exclusive club sitting beside the pool. This is not how he intended for any of this to have gone.
Honestly he didn’t know what he thought would come of throwing himself into the back of Eddie’s van, interrupting what was apparently a drug deal. Which, maybe that’s what he expected given Eddie's reputation, but it didn’t really matter. All he could think about now was the way Chrissy had clung to him, the fear in her eyes as she fell out of her nightmare, but also the waver in her voice as she’d talked to Steve. He knew she hadn’t wanted him there, but she'd been paranoid enough and he’d scared her further. He had shoved his way into her and Eddie’s space where she, evidently, felt comfortable. Down next to the pool they sat together on a lounge chair, calmly, then Eddie searched for something in his jacket.
“Talk to me, dingus,” Robin called, spread out like a starfish on Steve’s bed. Her eyes were closed but he didn’t doubt she was giving her full attention. Steve let out a sigh and fell onto his bed beside her, feet dangling off the side.
“It’s happening again,” he said it, even as he couldn’t believe it, “and this time instead of gaining a Robin, I’ve got The Freak, who hates my guts at the moment, and Hawkins High royalty, who- oh thats right- also hates my guts!” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I did that thing again, where I don’t ask and just help when I’m not wanted,” he admitted.
“Well it worked in your favor this time,” Robin scoffed, “or at least in Chrissy’s.” Steve shook his head,
“I don’t think I did anything to save her.”
“Well you at least knew what was going on,” she reasoned. “Plus, they don’t hate your guts, well Eddie might, but not your guts. He hates your reputation’s guts. Sure, you’re overly protective and pushy, but you make up for it in other ways.”
“Like how?” He asked, disbelieving.
“Well, you’re a total push over, for one.”
“Wow, thanks,” he said flatly.
“No really,” she insisted, “and sometimes you cook.”
“So you’re saying my best qualities are my willingness to drive you and brats around and cook you meals?” He rolled over to look at Robin, face resting in his elbow, and she mirrored him to answer,
“Sorry, I don’t feel like getting all sappy right now but yes, those are some of the things I like about you,” she rolled her eyes but watched as his attention drifted back to the open window and the pool lights shining up at them. “Why do you care so much what they think of you?”
“I don’t really, it’s mostly… I think they like each other,” He frowned, unsure of why the thought bothered him so much, “I mean it makes sense, Chrissy is… perfect, and Eddie’s got that whole,” he waggled his fingers in Robin's face, “edgy guy in a band thing going on. They’ve got opposites attracting going for them, so maybe I’m just jealous that they make sense, and they're like… falling for each other as we watch.” They both sat up, Robin pulling a pillow to her chest and clutching it as they looked out the window together. As if trying to prove Steve’s point, Eddie placed a comforting hand on her back and let it rest there as they continued to take turns pulling drags from the same cigarette.
“How was your date with… what’s her name, Lin-”
“Brenda,” Steve sighed, “It was fine I guess. Honestly, I cared more about the game, plus she’s not looking for anything serious, mostly interested in seeing what Steve Harrington has gotten up to since graduating.”
“So you’re jealous because last time it was you saving Nancy, but now-”
“It’s not about Nancy,” he insisted, a little too harshly. Nancy was still a sore spot, and he could only deny having feelings for her so much. “It’s about… how easy it looks, but here I am going on date after date with nothing to show for it, and after one failed drug deal, Eddie Munson, of all people, has a girl laughing like her life wasn’t flashing before her eyes an hour ago.”
“If only we could… combine,” Robin said, still watching out the window.
“Combine?” Steve repeated, finally pulling his gaze away, and turning back to Robin.
“Yeah, I’ve found the girl of my dreams, but can’t find the courage to ask her out, while you go on a million dates just looking for anyone!” She threw up her arms in frustration.
“Not anyone,” Steve grumbled.
“No not anyone,” Robin corrected, “but someone worth your time.”
They trailed off into comfortable quiet, and when Robin’s eyes began to drift Steve ushered her into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
After they’ve both brushed their teeth they settle under the covers back to back, as they tend to whenever they can convince Robin’s parents to let her stay over at her friend Melissa’s (Stevie seemed to obvious for how often he picked her up, or was forced to stay for dinner, but Melissa would have been his name had he been born a girl). It was usually easier to sleep with Robin close to him, but that night he tossed and turned unable to keep his eyes closed. His restless night typically started after he had woken from a nightmare, but it wasn’t visions of monstrous mouths, or fleshy mall destroying monsters that kept him up.
“Hey, Robin?” He whispered, “You awake?”
“Yeah,” she groaned.
“Isn’t Eddie… gay? I mean, that’s what people say right?” he asked, unsure of the words even as he said them.
“Steven,” she warned, sounding more awake, “you know better than to assume-”
“No, I know, I just- it would be cool for you to have a gay friend, right?” he said, almost too quickly for her to understand, “but he’s got a thing for Chrissy anyway, so never mind.” He pushed himself back against his pillow, pointedly, and pretended to be drifting off to sleep.
“Woah, that was a lot, but yeah maybe it would,” she shrugged, “as for the Chrissy thing, people can like both, but still you shouldn’t-”
“Assume,” he finished for her, his eyes now wide open but gazing distantly. “Or even guess, I know. I won’t.”
“Good,” Robin said into her pillow before leaving Steve alone in the world of the waking, as her words played over and over in his head.
People can like both.
*
The morning after the game, Max woke up gasping for air, holding back a scream as the image of Billy faded from her mind. The horrible images were quickly replaced with a pulsing headache that forced her from her room in search of Advil. She shoved them in her mouth, followed it with a handful of water, and hoped they might buy her another hour of sleep.
Those hopes were dashed when the sound of police sirens whooped outside of her house, growing closer. Human curiosity getting the best of her, Max made her way to the front door. Stepping out onto the porch, she watched as three police cruisers and an unmarked car speed their way down the gravel road of the trailer park, all skidding to a stop in front of Eddie Munson’s trailer. His uncle was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette.
“Looks like that Munson boy’s up to no good again,” Her mother’s voice made Max jump, not expecting her to come out behind her.
Without saying anything Max stepped off the porch, walking across the gravel road and towards the scene in front of her. Cops were pulling yellow rolls of barrier tape from the trunks of their cruisers, officials already rushing about as Chief Powell spoke to Eddie’s Uncle.
Max continued creeping closer, watching as Powell and Officer Callahan walked towards the hitch end of the trailer. When she couldn’t get any closer, she craned her neck to see around the cars and people. What she saw made her sick.
It was what used to be a person, a girl from what she could tell. But she was… crumpled. Her limbs were lying at odd angles in the grass, broken in unnatural places as well as at the joints. She looked the way a dead spider did, dried and caved in on herself. With horror, Max realized it was Anne Carver. Max recognized the windbreaker she was wearing, she had seen her in it last night. Anne was only a sophomore, only a year older than Max, and Jason’s Carver’s little sister. Max had never seen her even breath in the direction of the trailer park, but last night while feeding her neighbor's neglected mutt Max saw her here. She was getting out of a car with a boy around their age Max had never seen before. He had been wearing what she had learned by proxy was the opposing team's colors. Anne was giggling with him, hanging off his arm as he smoked a cigarette before they went in.
Max tried to piece together some understanding of what had happened, there was no way that boy killed Anne. Anne was tall for her age, almost the same height as the boy she was with, and Max was sure she remembered him to be a twig of a boy, scrawnier than Wheeler. There was no way he had the physical strength to do this to her, not alone at least. And even then, a group would have a hard time committing something this awful without anyone noticing until the next morning. Max couldn’t help but connect the strangeness of the body with the way the lights had flickered violently through the park last night. She had tried to convince herself it was shitty infrastructure and nothing else, but she was having a hard time sticking to that sentiment now.
Before Max could take another step forward, an officer landed a heavy hand on her shoulder. Making her jump as he turned her around, demanding she go back inside. With another quick glance back, Max ran across the road to her mother. The idea of getting any more sleep this morning was lost from her mind.
*
Dustin was sitting next to his mother, taking in yet another death. It never seemed to end, the death that filled Hawkins. Though it was still tragic, he couldn’t help but be relieved that this time he hadn’t seen it and wouldn’t have to take on any more grief.
That’s what he was hoping for, at least. Then Max showed up at his doorstep after barely acknowledging him and the party at school for weeks. She hadn’t been looking herself recently. Her clothes had all somehow turned to drab, muted shades, and even when Dustin managed to talk to her, she usually kept her headphones on and ignored half of what he said.
Now she was here, heavily breathing from the bike ride over and looking frightened in a way that could only mean one thing.
Max confirmed as much with her story about the lights, and the body she shuddered to even think about. Given the confirmed murder and with the rest of the party MIA, Dustin knew he didn’t want to deal with this alone- he needed to get to Steve.
They couldn’t speak over the whirring of their tires or their labored breaths, but Max and Dustin kept careful watch over each other. As they both frantically pedaled across town, Dustin tried to stop from thinking of the demon dogs chasing them down in the junkyard, or the demogorgons following them through the school. At least the adrenalin made him pedal faster.
The sign for the arcade was in sight, and Dustin couldn’t help the childish thought that told him Steve and Robin would be taking over soon, that they would make it alright. He knew he was older now, had dealt with this plenty before but he was barely managing to keep his friend group together. With Max drifting from them in her grief, and Lucas now ditching out on Hellfire, it felt almost good that he could still rely on them in crisis.
Just as Family video came into view, Steve’s voice crackled through the Walkie in the side pocket of Dustin's back-pack,
“Henderson, we’ve got a code red.” The buzz cut off as Steve waited for a response. “Can you hear me? Code Red. we have a code red,” he continued to ramble through the radio as Dustin and Max both slammed on their brakes, swerving to stop themselves from crashing into each other.
“Steve!” Dustin yelled back into the walkie, waiting for a chance to interject between his friend's repetition of “Code red. We have a code red.” Eventually, he got through, “Steve! I know, I’ve got Max with me. We’re almost to Family Video. Over.” Max leaned in closer, awkwardly walking her bike next to Dustin’s so she could better hear Steve.
“Why would you- oh, Rob and I called off, you need to get to my house stat.”
“Okay,” Dustin accepted, mapping the route to Steve’s in his head. “You have a phone, right? We need to find Eddie. And don’t forget to say over. Over.”
“Eddies here?” Steve told him, confused as to how Dustin would know he was involved. “Wait, how did you know it was a code red?”
Dustin lets Steve’s abysmal Walkie-Talkie etiquette slide in the face of Eddie being found.
“You have him!? Is he okay? Over.”
“Why wouldn’t he be okay, Dustin?”
“Steve!” Dustin reprimanded, but Max had grown tired of his screeching and yanked the walkie out of his hand.
“Turn on the news dipshit,” she ordered, “we’ll be there soon.” Then after a pointed look from Dustin she added. “Over and out.”
The walkie clicked off again, and Steve knew it would be futile to try and get them back on the line or explain what the hell they were up to. He knocked his forehead against the walkie a few times before letting it clatter to the kitchen counter.
“Robin!” He called towards the living room, “Turn on the news.”
“What?” She called back.
“Deaf bitch,” Steve groaned to himself, walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room where the others were, “Turn on the news, local probably.”
Robin leaned forward from where she was on the couch, sitting with Chrissy between her and Eddie. Steve couldn't help but notice how close they were to each other, the sleeve on Eddie's right arm was pulled up past his elbow, rolled tight on his bicep. He was showing Chrissy his tattoos. Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Robin grabbed the remote off the table, flicked the TV on, and flipped through the channels until she landed on the local news.
Steve sat on the arm of the couch next to Robin while the group took in the story on the news.
“What the fuck…” Eddie trailed off, voicing what both Chrissy and Steve were also feeling.
The reporter was standing almost directly outside of Eddie’s trailer, a crowd of people and police cruisers filling the background behind her.
“We’re at Forest Hills Trailer Park in east Roane County,” The reporter began, addressing the viewers, “We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning.”
“What?” Chrissy said to herself, almost like she was worried she was a ghost watching her own murder on TV.
“Police have not released the name, though we are told they are currently in the process of notifying the family.”
Eddie looked down at Chrissy next to him, placing a hand on her knee and squeezing. Steve didn’t try to understand the pointed look he gave her.
“That was supposed to be me,” Chrissy said out of the blue, looking down at her hands in horror, “I was supposed to die there, not them.”
“No way,” Robin said, shaking her head in disbelief, “This has to be a coincidence, there’s just no way.”
“How could it be?” Tears started to well in Chrissy’s eyes, guilt heavy in her chest, “This is my fault!”
“Don’t feel bad about surviving, Chrissy,” Steve tried to reassure, “Whoever it was could have died even if you did too, we don’t know.”
“Steve’s right, Chrissy,” Eddie said, pulling her attention to him, “You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“And we’re gonna figure this out as soon as we can,” Steve added, “Don’t ever tell them I said this, but the two of the smartest brats I have ever known are on their way over to help, it’s gonna be okay.”
*
Lucas hated this. If he had known how bad everything would hurt this morning, he would have skipped more than half the drinks he had last night. He was sure that the cold bathroom tiles against his knees were the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. Another heave wracked his body as more alcohol made its way back up.
A knock on the door made him jump as he spit into the toilet.
“You alright in there, Sinclair?” It was Jason on the other side of the bathroom door.
“I’m good,” Lucas grimaced, giving a thumbs up no one else could see.
“First hangover feels like you're gonna split in two, but you’ll live,” Jason advised through the door, trying to catch his breath Lucas was sure he was lying.
Lucas waited another moment more, sitting back on his heels and waiting for himself to gag again. When the danger of nausea seemed to have subsided, he stood, kicking the lever on the toilet to flush it, and went to the sink. Lucas looked at himself in the mirror, he was sweaty and his face hung in a way that made him look older than he was. He bent over, careful to not move so fast that he sent himself back to praying in front of the toilet, and splashed cold water on his face, rubbing it around his eyes, trying to wash away the grime from last night. He snatched a few paper towels from the roll someone had thought to leave in there and dried his face and neck.
Making his way to the kitchen, Lucas grabbed a solo cup from the stack of unused ones to fill with cold water and slowly sipped on it at the sink.
From where Lucas stood at the unused serving window, he could see Jason, Andy, Patrick, and Chance all in front of the TV. The volume was just loud enough for Lucas to hear it from where he was.
“Hawkins’ student got murdered,” Patrick told Jason.
Lucas slowly made his way out of the kitchen and towards the TV to try and get a better view.
“As you can see behind me, Chief Powell and the Hawkins Police Department are actively investigating the scene,” The familiar news reporter turned and gestured to an even more familiar trailer behind her. Lucas almost dropped his water when he recognized Eddie's home behind her.
He had only been to Eddie’s place specifically a few times, but back before Max broke up with him he had spent almost all of his time at Forest Hills Trailer Park. He had spent long nights on the outdoor couch in the background of the news broadcast talking to Eddie, mostly about Max.
Lucas couldn’t help the thoughts racing through his mind. Was it Eddie? He could really only push his luck so far, one of these days his mouth was bound to get him in trouble. But, as awful as it sounded, Lucas didn’t think Eddie’s murder would end up on the news. Most of the town treated him as either a pest or as a dead man already.
What if it was Max? Lucas stopped himself there. He couldn’t think about that. He’d call her when he got home just to check. She was probably fine, though, he told himself. She was the toughest person he knew, she had to be fine.
The sound of sirens tuned Lucas back into the real world. Patrick was getting on Andy about some joke he made and Jason was walking up to the window, watching the approach of police cruisers. In a moment of panic, Lucas ran back into the bathroom, deadbolting the lock behind him to wait out whatever was happening.
Lucas felt like he had been hiding in the bathroom forever, but he was glad he did instead of running. Luckily when the door knob to the bathroom had rattled Jason was quick to lie about it being broken and locked up, saving Lucas’s cover. Lucas had stood with his ear to the door as soon as he heard Chief Powell asking Jason to sit.
Powell began asking Jason about the party last night, lukewarm threats of arrest for trespassing and underage drinking thrown around. This had to be about the murder, there’s no way it wasn’t. Patrick told him that in all the years that they had partied here, not once had the cops shown up.
“What about your girlfriend?” Powell asked, “Did you see her last night?”
“Chrissy?” Jason asked softly, no longer pushing back at their questions. “No.”
Lucas had to push closer against the door to hear as the conversation took on a somber tone.
“That’s odd with her being your girlfriend and all,” the other officer prodded.
“When was the last time you talked to her?” Powell asked calmly.
“After the game,” Jason answered shortly, even as the chief stared at him down, clearly wanting to hear more. “Look, this… this doesn’t have to do with that dead student, does it?” Lucas could hear the shake in Jason’s voice through the door. Powell ignored his question and continued to push,
“What did Chrissy say when you talked to her?”
“Well- she… she said she was going to go home, get changed, something like that.” Jason stuttered, getting agitated.
“Did she mention anything about buying drugs for the party?” Chief Powell’s tone remained flat, trying to seem unthreatening now, even as he made the accusation.
“Drugs?!” Jason blanched, “No. No way. Chrissy doesn’t mess with that crap.”
“Maybe someone talked her into it,” He suggested, “Maybe your sister was interested, asked her to tag along?”
“No, wait, Anne?” Jason looked between the two officers, fear building in his voice, but neither offered him any information. “What does Anne have to do with this?”
“Do you know of any connection your sister or girlfriend would have to Eddie Munson? Ever seen them talking to him?”
“That freak? No! No way,” Jason spat. At a loss the policemen looked at each other as if deciding to believe him or not. “What- what does Eddie have to do with all this? Did that freak hurt her?” He was desperate now, and shouting, demanding answers even as he dreaded what they could be. “Is my sister all right? Is- is Chrissy- Tell me what he did!”
Lucas could barely breathe. He leaned all his weight against the door to the bathroom, ear pressed close so he could hear the two police officers explain that Annes body had been found in the trailer park. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but there’d been a party and she’d found herself in Forest Hills. For a brief moment he wondered if Max had been there, but quickly assured himself that she wouldn’t have been interested. Still he hoped she was okay, it sounded like it might not be safe where she lived if there was someone killing people running around the trailer park.
Chrissy was missing, they explained to Jason, their words heavy with implications that she might also be dead. Eddie was also missing, but that meant something entirely different to them. They tried to ask Jason if there was anywhere she’d have run to, but he was quickly overwhelmed by an angry confusion and wasn’t even trying to answer their questions any more.
A drug dealer and two missing girls, one already dead? Lucas knew that didn’t look good for his friend.
Jason ran outside, the cops taking the opportunity to make a quick exit, and the rest of the boys could hear his cries of anguish. To Lucas, it sounded like rage, like the roars of monsters he’d seen tear grown men to shreds.
*
Max and Dustin threw their bikes recklessly on the lawn and sprinted up the steps, where Dustin proceeded to pound on the door. Needlessly waking the whole neighborhood, as Steve almost immediately opened the door, and waved them in.
“Eddie!” Dustin cried happily, despite expecting him to be there, “Thank god you’re alright.” The two briefly hugged, and Eddie ruffled his hair as they pulled apart.
“I’m perfectly fine, pipsqueak,” He teased with an easy smile. “And now I know all your secrets, and am beginning to understand why Steve Harrington feels like he’s your guy's mother.”
“He already told you?” Dustin gasped, “I wanted to get to tell you.”
“Yeah, well, you snooze you lose,” Steve shrugged, locking the door behind Max and sliding the deadbolt into place. “Plus, we need to fill you in on what’s happening now.”
Dustin finally managed to look past Eddie, where Robin was sitting on the couch with Chrissy fucking Cunningham.
“What the hell is she doing here?!” He exclaimed, gesturing toward the cheerleader as if she even managed to rank top ten weirdest things he’d ever seen.
“That’s rude,” Steve said under his breath slapping his hand down the same time that Max shoved past him to introduce herself.
“Ignore the loud mouth, he just doesn’t know how to cool it. I’m Max.” She plopped herself down next to Chrissy and looked to her for explanation. “So they filled you in? What’s happening?”
“Someone… died,” Chrissy started, her eyes darting around the room, never landing on anyone and instead looking off unfocused. “But I think it was supposed to be me. I- I- can’t.” She cut herself off with a choked-off sob and looked to Eddie as she leaned into Robin’s hand rubbing soothingly up and down her arm. “Could you…” Eddie jumped into action, with a literal little hop,
“Yeah, yeah of course,” He assured, doing his best to stop himself from replacing Robin on the couch, pulling Chrissy’s hands into his own. Instead he paced as he recounted the previous night, glancing over at Steve and Chrissy for confirmation whenever he lost the thread. As he finished, he managed to stand in one place, elbowing Steve in the side, “Then Steve here kidnapped us both and forced us to spend the night on his fancy ass couches.”
Max looked around their assembled group, ignoring the way Steve was practically glaring at Eddie, and trying not to antagonize the already upset Chrissy.
“If it’s back again we need to know,” She pushed, “Did you see anything? Dark particles maybe.”
“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust,” Dustin interjected from where he had slumped over in a large lazy boy during Eddie’s tale.
“No, no, man there was nothing you could see or…touch,” Eddie recounted with a haunted look in his eyes before they darted up to Chrissy as if to check she was still there.
“We tried to wake her,” he explained, nodding toward Steve, letting the motion take him further into his space, “but she couldn't move. It was like she was in a trance or something.” Noticing Eddie's distress, Steve’s hand came up to grab lightly at his elbow and rested there when it didn’t get shaken off.
“Or under a spell.” Dustin wondered aloud.
“A curse,” Eddie agreed, the seriousness of his voice growing even as they brought in their nerdy nature.
“Vecna's curse!” the kid confirmed, as if that made sense to anyone else around them.
“Who’s Venca?” Steve asked at the same time Chrissy spat, “I’m cursed?!”
“He’s an undead creature of great power,” Dustin plowed on, unbothered by their questions as he and Eddie pieced together their newest enemy.
“A spell caster,” the DM leaned in closer, a comfortable mindset falling over him as he put words to the indescribable, spoke fantasy into reality. “A dark wizard.”
“Yeah, that's great,” Chrissy cut them off, “Can we circle back to where I’m cursed.”
*
Wayne was trying to gather himself, maybe work his way through a pack of cigarettes, and not worry his head off about his missing boy. It was going alright, minus the not worrying part, until a girl, looking around Eddie's age came up and introduced herself. They were only feet away from the crime scene that had once been his front yard, so he didn’t feel that bad when he told her to take her little notepad and leave him alone.
“Look, let me level with you, Mr. Munson,” Nancy, she had said her name was, continued, taking a seat next to him on the picnic table. “The paper that I write for is... small. We don't have the staff to keep up with the big guys. And I'm just... looking for something, anything really, about what happened last night.”
“Why?” He scoffed, flicking the ashes off his smoke. “S’far as I can tell, you all have it figured out already. My nephew's a freak.” He spat the word, even though it was a kinder term than Eddie usually had thrown his way. “He killed that girl. Ain't that about right?”
“Let me guess,” She smiled, trying to seem relatable. “You've been speaking to the Hawkins Post? Chuck Bailey?” Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. He watched her for a moment. She did look quite young, but he knew better than to think that meant she was incapable. Wayne nodded in confirmation. “ Yeah, I used to work with him. I mean, that guy doesn't know his ass from his elbow. Let me tell your side of the story.”
Maybe she convinced him, maybe Wayne just needed to tell someone who would at least pretend to listen, but he opened his mouth and defended his nephew,
“Eddie, he may look dangerous, but he didn't do this. It just... ain't in his nature. No matter what anyone says, and they will say things, believe you me. But... This... wasn't Eddie,” Wayne thought back to the scene he’d arrived home to, then shut his eyes as if to block it out. It wasn’t something that Eddie could have done. Forget the demons on his shirts and the ear-splitting volume he likes his music, the kid was still just that, a kid.” The man who did this,” He continued, “Who killed that poor girl, he's... pure evil.”
"Man?” Nancy questioned, “You think you know who might've done this?”
“You ever hear the name Victor Creel?” he asked, and when she shook her head he felt almost bad for feeding her nightmares, but she asked for his opinion. So he told her about the boogieman that had haunted his youth, the one that never really went away, while keeping to himself images of Eddie lost and running with some monster of a man after him.
When the young reporter excused herself, Wayne nodded her off and, though he wouldn’t admit to it, sent a prayer more like a threat up to a God he knew didn’t care if Eddie lived or died. He did. He cared, and maybe that could be enough.
*
At a loss for what to do next, everyone at Steve’s house… floundered.
Max and Dustin were posted at the phone calling around to the Wheelers, Byers, and Sinclair's but no one was home, and their parents were getting sick of the ringing. Robin had found a notebook somewhere and had taken to writing down every detail Eddie, Chrissy, and Steve could give her. The three of them were hesitant to go anywhere while they were still unsure of what exactly was after them, or at least Chrissy.
Steve had basically force fed everyone lunch right after the kids arrived, and had thrown himself into putting together something good for dinner. He didn’t know if it was the unreasonable over protective voice in his head again, or if it really made sense, but something told him this could be their last good meal. So there he was, slaving away in his kitchen while Eddie and Chrissy tried to pretend not to cuddle on the couch, and Robin flipped frantically through her notes, rambling at him from her seat on the counter next to his cutting board,
“Max is pretty sure the body was Anne Carver, so we’ve got two Hawkins High seniors who were…cursed or whatever. The only other thing connecting them is Jason and the location, the trailer park. But nothing has ever happened there before?” She ran through the same issue a couple dozen times by now, trying to think of any other angle that might reveal the solution. Steve was half listening and nodding along as he began dunking the chicken breast in the egg mixture, then rolling it around in the breading. The methodic task calmed him at least a little bit.
“I’m going to talk to Eddie again, maybe he knows more about what this…wizard…Vecna could be,” Robin let out a frustrated sigh and hopped off the counter. “How the hell are you just cooking right now?”
“I need something to do,” he shrugged, “Plus it seems you’ve got the whole investigation thing under control.”
“Yeah, sure, it seems like it,” She scoffed, and moved to leave but he barred the way with his arm, careful to keep from touching her with his hands as they were practically breaded themselves.
“Rob,” he scolded gently, “you’re doing everything you can. You’re doing more than me, but- I mean, everyone is safe right now and that's the most we can ask for.”
“Yeah, okay,” she relented, with a half-hearted smile and a squeeze of his wrist.
Alone in the quiet kitchen, Steve was able to convince himself that it was just a normal night, he was prepping some dinner for the week, that he wasn’t scared. His refuge was interrupted by Chrissy, leaning up on the counter next to him as he washed off his hands. When he shut off the water she asked timidly,
“You need any help?”
“Sure!” he said a bit too eagerly, surprised by her offer, “You want to uh… shred the cheese, I’m just doing chicken parm.”
“Just,” she laughed, picking up the task given to her and getting to work. “There is a magic murderer after us and your first instinct is to put together an entire meal for the… host of people that have invaded your home.”
“Maybe not my first instinct,” he joked, “but yeah, someone has to take care of all of you.”
Conversation broke off as they set to work, Chrissy pulled the chicken from the oven and began layering the cheese over it, while Steve pulled a huge pot out of the cabinets and set to filling it.
“I’m sorry, by the way,” he offered up, earning a confused look from Chrissy. “Robin said I should apologize,” he explained, “not that that’s the only reason I’m saying it. I am, sorry I mean. I…scared you and that isn’t at all what I wanted to do, but I’m glad I was there, and that you’re alright.” Chrissy tried not to think of how the previous night could have ended, how Anne’s night had gone but managed to respond casually.
“I am too.” Surprisingly, she found she meant it. “Thanks for having us by the way, for… explaining all of this to us- Eddie and I.” Steve hummed at that but only spoke when Chrissy asked, “What?”
“Just… Eddie and you?”
“I’m- Jason,” she argued, and Steve let it go easily, sliding a cutting board with some broccoli on it in front of her. The two continued in companionable silence, passing ingredients to the other as needed but not feeling the need to speak much.
Eddie roped Max in to help him find the stuff the set the table and the kids took their usual seats across from each other, while Robin took one of the chairs crammed together on the short side of the table. This left Chrissy and Eddie also looking across at each other when Dustin dragged Eddie into the chair next to him.
Everyone was waiting there in their seats when Steve brought out the last dish. Eddie had his fork and knife in hand as if he was about to start banging them on the table, but was restraining himself. Max and Dustin squabbled over the serving spoons, batting each other's hands away trying to get to the food first and Steve couldn't be bothered to stop them as he took his chair at the head of the table alongside Robin.
“Children!” Eddie interrupted, letting his silverware clatter back down on his place mat. The flurry of sound got them to stop bickering for at least a moment so he continued while he had their attention, “Did you forget grace?”
“Screw off,” Dustin deadpanned, used to Eddie's antics, and served himself a scoop of pasta with a wet slap.
“Well, you could at least thank your mother for cooking this delicious meal,” Eddie said with a wave of the broccoli tongs, piling vegetables onto Max and Dustin's plates then after a pointed look from Steve, his own.
Dustin mumbled his thanks under his breath, and just to outdo him Max looked at Steve and clearly said, “Thank you, Steve.”
Even though she made a joke of it, Steve could tell a part of it was genuine.
“Of course Max, and thank you Chrissy for helping,” Steve returned, slipping into a strange sort of contentedness. For all that lead to this moment he was happy here, with his closest friends and possibly some new ones safe under his roof, and cared for.
They all ate peacefully, for the most part. Of course a couple times Dustin and Max started going at it but Eddie easily got between them and was able to break it up. If Steve was being honest with himself, seeing Eddie with the kids made him a bit jealous. They listened to him easily, whereas Steve telling them to do anything was met with at least a little bitching, if not outright refusal. Dustin loved the guy. He raved about what an amazing dungeon master Eddie was constantly, and he knew so much about all the books the kids loved. What did Steve have?
It didn’t matter, he told himself. He knew the kids cared, and that they trusted him. Steve reached back out for that happy feeling.
Everyone was still enjoying their dinner, pushing impending doom from their mind, and Steve's eyes wandered back to Eddie. Sure he chewed with his mouth half open most of the time, but it was because he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he continually added food to the kids' plates, kicked Robin under the table, or shot Chrissy a wink.
He was checking in on everyone, Steve realized. Constantly gauging their mood and redirecting them if they seemed to fall out of the conversation, in a way it was familiar to Steve. He constantly wanted to know the kids were alright. It’s why Robin stayed over whenever she could, and why he’d set up a phone in his room so they could call him anytime. Eddie did it differently, but Steve found himself…admiring the ease with which they accepted his help. Steve had not learned that sort of subtlety, and certainly couldn’t claim to have the sort of charm that radiated off of him.
When he’d been King Steve that charm had come from a big house, being decent at sports, and a reputation he’d done very little to earn. Eddie on the other hand built his charm from scratch. It came from the constant movement of his hands, highlighted by the chunky rings he apparently never took off, and the way his fingers flew, always grasping or clawing or curling away from some invisible force. Not only did any gesture take his whole body, but his mess of hair added to the chaos, billowing out in an extension of his mood.
Chrissy was enthralled by it. She ignored the scraps left on her plate and leaned towards Eddie. Her hair was back up in a ponytail, giving Steve a chance to take her in unobstructed. She was pretty, he admitted to himself, though it felt confusingly bitter. Her smile was bright and her laughter made the whole room feel lighter. He could see how she’s taken Hawkins High by storm- with her dedication to her sport, naturally good looks, sweet demeanor, and the way she ducked her head down to hide her giggles but looked up through her lashes. It wasn’t fake like the girls Steve let walk their way into his bed. No, Chrissy felt real.
Realizing he had been staring a bit too long, Steve forced his gaze back towards Eddie, recounting some story about a princess. Steve pictured Chrissy as the princess.
Eddie played with his hair a lot, Steve noticed. He pulled it in front of his face when he wanted to hide a taunting smile, shook it out whenever he laughed, and twirled it around his fingers unthinkingly. Steve wanted to run his hands through it.
That made Steve choke on his pasta, and as much as Robin thought slapping his back was helping, it was not.
“Okay, Stevie?” Robin asked as he washed down his shame with some water, hoping they attributed his redness to the choking and not the blush he knew it was.
“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie smirked at the nickname, “You alright?” He most certainly was not alright.
“Yeah,” He wheezed, shooting Robin a desperate look, “all good.”
The rest of their meal went by without note, and afterward, Eddie corralled the kids into doing the cleanup.
Eddie had begun to insist that, since Chrissy helped with the cooking, she didn’t need to do any of the cleaning up. But Max interjected, asking Chrissy to find the Tupperware in Steve's kitchen to store the leftover food. Chrissy agreed, hearing Ms. Kelly’s advice about distracting herself after eating in her head. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she shuffled around Steve’s kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers to find what she needed.
“You okay?” Eddie asked, asked as he began soaking the plates in the sink, Chrissy looking through the cabinet next to him.
“Oh, yeah, I’m good.” Chrissy nodded trying to reassure him, finally finding the containers, “I’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” Eddie trailed off, looking at her, not fully convinced, “Let me know if you’re not, yeah?”
Chrissy nodded in agreement as she headed to the other counter where Max brought in the dishes of leftover chicken and pasta. Chrissy carefully arranged the food, taking her time.
“Steve is a good cook, right?” Max said to Chrissy, bring another dish over.
“Yeah,” Chrissy nodded, “I’m surprised he did so much for tonight.”
Max nodded, “Yeah, he cooks when he’s stressed, gives him time to think. Last summer we all came over to swim and I broke my wrist. He blamed himself and spent a whole day making chicken noodle soup from scratch for me.”
“Wow, that’s a lot.” Chrissy snapped the lids onto the containers.
“Yeah, it’s how he shows he cares, I guess.” Max shrugged, “Food seems to be like that for a lot of people, it's its own love language.”
“Hm,” Chrissy thought for a moment, “That’s true, I guess I’ve never thought about that before.”
“Yeah, even the bad stuff, like cauliflower or mushrooms ,” She made a face at the idea of them, “feel worth it to eat when someone else cooks for you.”
“That’s a nice way to think about it,” Chrissy said, realizing that the pointed words from this girl she didn’t know were more than just chatter to fill the silence.
Max leaned in close, lowering her voice so only Chrissy could hear in the large kitchen, “By the way, Munson has been staring you down all night,”
Chrissy glanced over her shoulder, meeting Eddie’s eyes for a moment before he quickly looked away, suddenly very interested in the design of the plate he was drying.
“Seriously?” Dustin grimaced, looking back over his shoulder where the girls were packing away their leftovers. Steve had made too much as usual.
“What?” Eddie feigned ignorance, even as he could feel Chrissy’s gaze boring into the back of his skull.
“You’ve been making eyes at Chrissy Cunningham all day,” Dustin stated, point of fact, “What happened to balls in the laundry basket, down with the popular crowd? I mean Chrissy Cun-”
“Dude,” Eddie hissed, snapping the towel he was using to dry with at the kid, “stop saying her full name like that you freak.”
“You’re the freak,” Dustin snapped back, before drifting into a more somber mood as he scrubbed at the casserole dish. “Do you really think you have a chance? I mean you really are a freak and she's…”
“Okay dude,” Eddie shut him down, “So you get to have a girlfriend who’s hotter than Phoebe Cates and crazy smart but what, the rest of us have to suffer? Shut the fuck up and finish the dishes.” Thankfully, he relented, leaving Eddie to wonder after his own desirability.
He knew that Chrissy was dating Jason, so he’d been avoiding thinking about how every interaction he had with Chrissy was slowly wrapping him around her finger, but of course, Henderson went and messed that up. The thing was the kid wasn’t wrong, he wasn’t what any normal person would consider good boyfriend material, at least not in a town as small as Hawkins. Eddie was a freak, and he liked it that way, but Chrissy didn’t seem entirely put off by his strange nature. He didn’t know if whatever affection she appeared to have for him would stick around once the world went back to normal, or if she really thought about the fact that he was a super senior with no real plans.
Then there was also the whole, queer thing to contend with. Sure guys thought it was hot when two girls made out at parties, but Eddie didn’t think it went the other way. Plus that was just for show, and he didn’t want his hard earned self accepted off his gayer side to be played off as some joke. Eddie’s identity was a carefully constructed mosaic, and he wasn’t about to put down his bisexuality.
Then he remembered this was all futile. Chrissy was with Jason. It didn’t matter, and yet he found himself hoping she could at least be an accepting friend.
*
When the rest of the group peeled away to clean up, Steve grabbed Robin by the hand and dragged her into his bathroom, doing his best to look normal, and sane, not like everything he’d ever known to be true had been blown to bits by Eddie Munson.
Unlike the star court bathroom, this was a particular safe haven for Steve.
The counters were full of bottles. Some hair products that he had tried and never touched again. Some were completely empty, their labels a reminder for him to buy more, and a majority were part-way used. When Robin had started staying over, she tried to claim some of the counter space for herself, figuring it would be fine to move some of the abundance of bottles under the sink since Steve had cleaned out half his dresser for her, but that had been a mistake. He had simply steered her into the guest bathroom next door and rushed back to put everything where it belonged.
Steve would make room for Robin almost everywhere in his life, but not here.
This bathroom was where he’d put on that mask of the perfect high school heartthrob, day after day. It had become a sort of ritual somewhere along the way, the intensity with which he looked over his appearance, every hair in place, every muscle trained into a date-winning smile. In recent years the ritual has changed. He still found comfort in his hair, his best feature, but instead of putting on the mask, Robin had slowly talked him into looking through it. ‘Finding himself’ she called it.
Right now he didn’t want to look at the mirror, so he sank to the floor leaning against the cupboards under the sink, and dragged Robin down next to him.
“What’s going on Steve-o? You’re scaring me a little,” She laughed, easily going down next to him.
“I think I’ve found my Steve Harrington,” He said, eyes staring blankly ahead.
“You...” Robin tried to puzzle out his meaning but couldn’t. “What?”
“I think…” he took a deep breath to settle himself, and did his best to speak slowly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to repeat himself. “I found my own Tammy Thompson, and he’s come with his own Steve Harrington.” Robin choked, and tried to read Steve expression, to make sure he was saying what she thought he was saying, but he’d turned away, biting his knuckles between his teeth.
“Steve,” She tried, but he shook his head and let out a cry muffled by his hand, breaking her heart. “Steve, please.” With careful hands, she pulled his hand down, wincing at the red marks already left on his hand, and turned him back to face her. “Steve,” She treaded carefully. “Are you saying-”
“I think Eddie Munson is really pretty,” he started, and if they were clenched around Robins she would have said he was ticking revelations off on his fingers, “I’m sick of dating when none of it’s real, I want someone for real, you said I could like both, and I really want to wash his hair.”
Robin stared at his aghast, trying to process everything. Steve barreled right on, “I mean it’s like the guy goes through all that effort of growing out that hair, but he doesn't take care of it. What the hell's that about? But then I was thinking maybe no one showed him how, and that made me think-”
“Steve,” Robin cut him off, her tone serious but quickly dissolved into giggles. “You’re telling me you never looked twice at a guy, but in the face of 'the freak's' greasy ass hair you decided that what you really wanted- in the middle of the world ending, I might add- was that you want to wash it.”
“Yes,” Steve blurted, then slapped both hands back over his mouth trying to contain the crazed laughter now spilling out of him even as the tears he'd been holding back lingered in the corners of his eyes.
Without a second thought, they both fell into each other, laughing so hard it brought on another wave of tears, and left them clutching their sore stomachs.
“I love you, dingus,” Robin said gently as they helped each other off the floor.
“I know, I know, you too,’ Steve mockingly brushed her off, but still wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss on top of her head as they went to get ready for bed.