play | cw: eddie's (almost) death | steddie | masterlist
Eddie was scared all the time, ever since that fatidical March 22nd.
He faced infinite horrors, saw death fest from the first row, got hunted like a witch. Hell poured over, the sky clouded red, ashy rain and demons swerving and showing left and right. He had death banging on his front door — he held it closed tight, but it almost passed through. A bad hip, a worst leg, half his torso torn open, half his blood lost, half his organs out of his body.
Death tried really hard.
It didn’t win, though, not against him.
And scared he was, ever since it started.
But he never thought he’d find love at the end of the world.
Love had a sharp jaw, fierce but kind eyes and a sewed-off gun in her hands.
It had cocktail molotovs, rings that matched his, a kinship they grew up fearing about themselves and came to adore with one another.
It had a lisp, an attitude, a collection of nerdy hats and the tightest hug in the world.
It made a family grow against all odds through the apocalypse, like a flower powering through the concrete of a cracked sidewalk.
Love accepted him into their world-saving crew as if he’d been there from the start, protected him and received his (sometimes flawed) protection back, reciprocal reliance through homemade weapons and homemade meals.
Love had coiffed hair and honey hazel eyes and a set of moles perfectly placed for a kiss on his neck. Love had scars that matched his.
Eddie was scared of the end of the world, and he was scared about how much he loved Steve. And he knew Steve was just as scared too.
But they held hands and powered through it. Love bloomed and blossomed, the world didn’t end, and death wouldn’t win against them.
They’d make sure of it.