Some of You May Lose Your Arm & That's a Sacrifice I'm Willing to Make
Eddie Munson & Gareth Emerson-Fuller whatever the fuck it is
A/N: As per usual, some more stupid shit written by yours truly. Just a short drabble that came to me during a side quest.
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Gareth comes out of his house to find Eddie frantically looking around the garage. He pushes things aside, lifts other stuff up, and rifles through some drawers that have been untouched for ages.
"Dude, don't you guys have any tools or anything around here?" asks Eddie as he continues ransacking through the deepest confines of the Emerson garage. "Uh, what's going on?" Gareth questions as he slowly steps down from the door connecting the rest of the house to the garage. He is tentative about approaching Eddie as he looks like he's on the brink of a meltdown. Suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks as he stares down at something that has caught his eye.
"Hey Gare, come here real quick."
Gareth narrows his eyes with suspicion before asking, but not actually wondering, "...why?" Eddie revives, a determined rhythm in his voice—his gaze locked on his find—and beckons Gareth closer. "Just come here," Eddie commands, deep in thought before snapping back to purpose and looking up at Gareth with a grin "Just trust me."
Famous last words Gareth thought, but still curiosity wins him over once again, as it usually does in matters concerning his friend. He shuffles over to where Eddie is standing. Once he's within reach, Eddie swiftly grabs hold of his arm with one hand and brandishes a hacksaw with the other.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Gareth yelps as he tries, unsuccessfully, to pull himself from Eddie's iron grip.
"Gare, if we want to be famous, we’re going to need a leg up," Eddie explains, enunciating every word so that Gareth understands him clearly. "Or an arm down, in this case." Gareth is still trying to pull himself from the vice that Eddie has his arm in as he continues staring at his friend with furrowed brows, silently prodding him to continue his train of thought.
"You know, Rick Allen?" Eddie questioned. Gareth continues eyeing him with a quiet look of anguish. "The drummer for Def Leppard? Lost his arm in a car accident?" Eddie sighs in frustration. "You really don't know about him!?"
Gareth's eyes widen in disbelief and utter astonishment as he finally relinquishes his limb from the clutches of his friend, his bandmate, the person he now regrets ever knowing—Eddie Munson. "YOU ARE NOT CUTTING MY FUCKING ARM OFF! WE ARE NOT DEF FUCKING LEPPARD!" he screeches loudly as he rubs his wounded arm.
Eddie towers over him and argues back. "THE MAN IS INSPIRATIONAL, GARETH," he rebuts emphatically. "SACRIFICES HAVE TO BE MADE IF WE WANT TO BE FAMOUS."
Gareth, flabbergasted at the persistence of his friend, continues pleading. "THEN CUT YOUR OWN FUCKING ARM OFF!"
Eddie is now levitating with anger and frustration. "IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. I CAN'T PLAY GUITAR WITH ONE ARM." He emphasizes his words with the jerky movements his arms and hands are making.
Gareth is no longer entertaining the idea and spins around on his heel to storm back into the house, angry and somehow not surprised that this is the state of his life right now.
"IT’S LIKE NO ONE TAKES THIS BAND AS SERIOUSLY AS I DO!" Eddie concludes with defeat.
For then on, every time another record label turns them down, Eddie reminds Gareth that this is all his fault. Eddie always points out, "I told you how we could fix this problem ages ago," as Gareth rolls his eyes and sighs while the rest of the guys laugh.
jeff x grant having their high school romcom moment while they witness the party recovering from the horrors and being like. hmm. there’s something off about these kids idk what though. and then they go off and be in love and ignore it.
like.
jeff grant had a list of things he wanted to do before the end of his senior year, and they were as follows:
1. secure his ticket to college in LA or New York or Chicago or somewhere he could leave hawkins behind forever.
2. ensure that hellfire lived beyond him and gareth and eddie and freak, assuming eddie graduated. which brings him to number 3;
3. drag eddie munson headfirst into graduation and drag corroded coffin somewhere they could be great.
4. come out to at least one person, which led him to-
5. confess to gareth emerson so he could get over him and-
6.get a boyfriend. may or may not be related to number 5.
7. play on a main stage. get a gig somewhere they could make a name for themselves and be set wherever they ended up.
Happy August my loves! This is the first time I've ever participated in something like this so I came in halfway, but I had an absolute ball challenging myself with those 1000 words limits, and I have loved reading everyones pieces and seeing your art, and reading the comments and tags on my stuff - you're all so talented and lovely and I'm blowing you all kisses.
Thank you so much to everyone at @corrodedcoffinfest who organises, you are fantastic!
Here below is every piece I wrote for this event 🫶🏼
handprints - Prompt Day 16: Hypercolor | Word Count: 996 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: secret relationship, bi4bi steddie (not important to the plot but important to ME hehe), eddie's ill-defined general insecurities, inconvenient handprints (or are they??)
leave it at the beep - Prompt Day 17: Answering Machine | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: G | CW: None | POV: omniscent | Pairing(s): implied steddie | Tags: told entirely through answering machine messages, corroded coffin love to gossip, steve and eddie meet at the fateful halloween party au
gilded cages - Prompt Day 18: wood paneling | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: G | CW: brief mention of substance abuses | POV: Jeff | Pairing(s): established steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, the steep price of getting everything you dreamed of, decor faults as a metaphor for a gilded cage, band tension
your mission, should you choose to accept it - Prompt Day 19: rattail | Word Count: 997 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Max, Eddie | Pairing(s): Steddie, Lumax | Tags: Eddie will do anything for his spiritual daughter, Max, rattails are not appropriate wedding fashion, walk 'em down Wheeler to the rescue
ordinary moments - Prompt Day 20: McNuggets | Word Count: 999 | Rating: G | CW: grief | POV: Freak (Frank) | Pairing(s): none | Tags: grief, canon compliant (my two most hated words), secret steddie? unrequited pining Steve? you decide, the language of flowers
you think there's a connection between Eddie and the... slime? - Prompt Day 21: Ecto Cooler | Word Count: 996 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Ghost!Eddie is haunting Steve, questionable ghost science ahead, first kiss
selling out - Prompt Day 22: “Clap on, clap off, The Clapper!” | Word Count: 997 | Rating: M | CW: push and shove, language | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: i’m borrowing Band Manager!Steve but making it enemies to lovers, Famous Corroded Coffin, Eddie calls it Selling Out, Steve calls it Paying Our Damn Bills
pavlovian - Prompt Day 23: acid wash | Word Count: 993 | Rating: T | CW: none | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: implied famous CC, established steddie, Steve is DOWN BAD, down horrific, Gareth and Jeff and Frank WILL be bringing this up forevermore to embarrass Steve
the music guy - Prompt Day 25: smoking section | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: smoking | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, AU - no Upside Down, sharing a cigarette (the sluttiest thing two people can do)
is that the right door? - Prompt Day 26: mohawk | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: sex | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Timeloops and timeline hopping, happy (?) ending, are you ever really free of the timeloop? you decide, falling in love through every timeline
do you copy? - Prompt Day 27: Casey’s Top 40 Countdown | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Jeff | Pairing(s): implied ronance, implied steddie (mutual pining/future, or brand new fresh during the events of Spring Break ‘86 - you decide) | Tags: Lost in the Upside Down, communicating via the radio, not actually dead Eddie
secrets - Prompt Day 28: ALF | Word Count: 998 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): established but secret steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, everyone has an embarrassing skeleton in their closet
you hate me... - Prompt Day 29: “Double your pleasure, double your fun!” | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: language, implied cheating (not steddie) | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Popstar Steve Harrington, enemies to lovers, AU – no Upside Down, fuck that guy to i’m going to fuck that guy, (part 1/3)
...but you fuck her... - Prompt Day 30: Doc Martens | Word Count: 999 | Rating: M | CW: oral sex, PR relationship | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Popstar Steve Harrington, enemies to lovers, AU – no Upside Down, fuck that guy to i’m going to fuck that guy, angst, mutual pining, (part 2/3)
...and say my name - Prompt Day 31: phone book | Word Count: 998 | Rating: M | CW: sex | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Popstar Steve Harrington, AU – no Upside Down, angst, mutual pining, happy ending, (part 3/3)
Writing fanfic is weird because one minute you are writing an OC x Eddie fic and the next thing you know you ship Gareth and Chrissy. Like, have I gotten to the part where they interact? No. Am I already naming their kids? Yes.
Prompt Day 27: Casey’s Top 40 Countdown | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Jeff | Pairing(s): implied ronance, implied steddie (mutual pining/future, or brand new fresh during the events of Spring Break ‘86 - you decide) | Tags: Lost in the Upside Down, communicating via the radio, not actually dead Eddie
October 25th, 1986
“And now, the Westwood One Radio Networks proudly present Casey’s Top 40.”
There’s a musical sting, and Jeff nods along to the familiar tune, sticking his screw between his teeth so he doesn’t lose it while trying to figure out how these two pieces of shelf line up.
“Hello again everybody and welcome to Casey’s Top 40. I’m Casey Kasem and I’m all set to countdown the 40 most popular songs in the USA.”
Jeff picks up his Philips head and works the screw in, Casey’s introduction fading into background noise. He’s searching for an Allen key when static scratches out of the speakers and he glances over, frowning. That’s a brand new damn boombox, and if he got sold a dud, he’s going to be–
Static bristles again, then fades out.
“–but before we start counting them down to number one–”
Static bursts again. A voice crackles through the noise, but–
–but it’s not Casey Kasem’s.
“Dustin, Dustin do you copy? Nancy? Steve, do you copy? Steve, I’m… I think I’m lost?”
Jeff nearly knocks over his half-built shelving unit in his hurry to get close to the boombox, because that–that had sounded like Eddie. Jeff listened to probably thousands of hours of Eddie speaking over the years, between just hanging out, D&D, and everything in between; he’d recognise his voice blind. But it’s impossible… right?
Eddie’s been dead for seven months.
***
November 1st, 1986
“I think you’ve lost your mind, dude,” Frank says, sceptically. It’s about the 50th time this week he’s said it, but Jeff knows what he heard last weekend. Now he’s forcing Frank and Gareth to listen with him. Gareth, having really taken on Eddie’s legacy of anti-conformity, is pouting about being subjected to Top 40 bullshit, but Frank just looks concerned that Jeff’s lost his marbles.
But it happens again. Jeff doesn’t even have time to feel vindicated as the boys babble – “Holy shit!” “Is that really him!? Because that really sounds like him!” – because he’s trying to listen to the creak of Eddie’s hoarse voice – it sounds like he’s out of practice at talking, but it’s unmistakably his.
“Nancy, do you copy? Dustin, do you copy buddy? I’m lost… I–I don’t know where I am. Dustin, where’d you go?”
The static crackles out of existence and Casey’s voice resumes like nothing happened. The three of them are silent for a long moment, then, slowly, Jeff looks at them; first at Frank, then Gareth.
“We buried a coffin,” Frank eventually says, in a wobbly kind of voice. “We had a funeral.”
“Jeff, where is he then?” Gareth asks, looking to him for the answers. He’s been their de-facto leader since Eddie die–well, disappeared apparently.
He doesn’t have any answers. He pulls back his shoulders though, and sets his expression into something grim and determined – because he has an idea of who might.
***
November 8th, 1986
Nancy Wheeler’s face gives nothing away. Dustin Henderson has a hell of a black eye – Jeff knows he’s been defending Eddie’s name, and it’s been getting him in trouble. He’s tried to stop the kid, tried to tell him Eddie wouldn’t want him to get hurt, and boy had that been the wrong thing to say.
“You don’t know what Eddie would want,” Dustin had hissed. “Because he’s dead, because he was trying to protect me, and they don’t get to say shit about him.”
Jeff and the boys had managed to track this lot down to the WSQK radio station, and now the kid sits, stone-faced, arms crossed, on the couch in between Nancy and Robin Buckley, the former of whom is watching them archly. Steve Harrington has not sat down – he’s standing behind the couch with his back to all of them, his head bent and both hands on his hips.
Jeff clears his throat. “Anyway,” he says, and without ceremony, turns the radio on.
“Hello again everybody and welcome to Casey’s Top 40–”
Static snaps and crackles, louder now than Jeff has heard it before. All eyes turn to the radio, except Harrington, who stays frozen like he hasn’t heard anything, his back still to them.
And then– “Dustin? Kid, I’d love it if you copied.”
Eddie’s voice, still hoarse, sounds more broken than ever, and wet with unshed tears. Jeff hears a series of soft gasps and snaps his eyes to the couch – Nancy and Robin are leaning forward, their hands clasped in Dustin’s lap, their other hands grabbing his knees. The kid looks dazed, like he’s taken a knockout punch.
“Steve? Steve, do you copy? Stevie, I’m lost, I think, I must have gotten separated–I’m sorry, I don’t know how–Steve, can you find me? It’s cold. Stevie, I–” Eddie’s voice shudders and breaks off, and they all hear a little sniffle before static crackles again.
Jeff looks up, and the three on the couch are looking over their shoulders at Steve, who has finally turned around. He looks as white as a ghost, like he’s just seen one – or heard one. There’s something desperate in the shadows of his eyes, something longing, something like hope that doesn’t want to be named in case it’s wrong. Jeff watches Steve swallow once, twice, three times, like he can’t make his throat work.
“I’m going in,” he finally rasps out, looking at Nancy with an expression that brooks no argument. He massages the heel of his hand across his sternum, right over his heart.
Nancy nods once, sharp, determined. She stands, not letting go of Robin’s hand as they head for the stairs. Dustin still looks shell-shocked, but he scrambles to follow them with Steve, and all four of them pause at the bottom of the stairs, looking back.
“Well,” Nancy calls to Jeff, Frank and Gareth, “are you coming?”
“Where?” Jeff asks, lost. He feels like he’s been hit by a bus.
Nancy is terrifying, and awesome. She says, “To plan a rescue.”
Prompt Day 26: mohawk | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: sex | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Timeloops and timeline hopping, happy (?) ending, are you ever really free of the timeloop? you decide, falling in love through every timeline
In Timeline 37, Eddie has a mohawk.
It’s horrible. Steve hates it. It’s so wrong, and that’s coming from someone who has seen a timeline where Eddie was a girl (Timeline 17; intriguing, confusing), where he was a jock (Timeline 23; also confusing, and strangely hot), and one where his dad was even worse and had gotten him hooked on hard stuff long before the events of 1986 (Timeline 8; awful in every way).
Steve knows punks and metalheads are natural enemies, you see. He can’t reconcile opening the door and walking into a version of The Hideout where Corroded Coffin are onstage and they’re a punk band.
In Timeline 36, Eddie had been a soldier with buzzed hair.
Steve misses the long hair.
He misses Eddie.
He’s so tired, but every time he steps through the door, he’s buoyed by hope. Hope that this will be the one, that this will be the timeline where everything is the same and he gets to do things differently this time. To influence the outcome.
To save Eddie.
“Harrington?” Jeff says, at the bar after the show. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard the show was good,” Steve says with a shrug.
Eddie tilts his head curiously. He looks like someone who is trying to remember the shadow of an impression of a ghost of a memory.
***
In Timeline 41, Corroded Coffin are famous.
Big-time, world-touring, triple-platinum famous.
The door, which seems to have an ironic sense of humour despite the circumstances, opens on the green room post-show. One of the good parts of all this stuff is that Steve enters the timelines with the memories he needs to make it work. One of the worst parts of this is that Steve now remembers, as if he’d been there, the virtually religious experience of being on the barrier of Corroded Coffin’s show, within spitting distance of Eddie shredding on stage, undulating his hips against his guitar like he’s fucking it.
He swallows heavily as at least two dozen sets of eyes fall on him, the most intense of which is the set of big brown eyes in the middle.
“You lost, JFK?” Frank calls across the room, coolly. Steve can’t tell if they remember him from school.
Eddie is still watching him, head tilted curiously. “Do I know you?” he asks.
“Don’t you remember the King, dude?” Gareth asks, his lip curling. He’d always been a particular favourite of Tommy Hagan’s to torment, and Steve still feels sick about that. “King Steve, The Hair Harrington, ruler of Hawkins High, poster boy for the evils of conformity.” His tone is increasingly derisive with each word.
“Huh,” is all Eddie says, his head still tilted. Like he’s listening.
“Sorry, uh, wrong door,” Steve says, backing out, retreating quickly.
He’s halfway down the corridor, waiting for the burst of intuition he always gets when he passes the right door, when Eddie catches up with him, tugging him to a stop with a gentle hand on his elbow.
“Sorry about my friends,” he says, a touch breathlessly.
“It’s okay,” Steve says. “I was a dick in high school.”
“Not anymore?” Eddie asks, a wry smile touching the corners of his lush mouth. “Steve Harrington; now a Good Dude?”
“I try.”
It’s hard, being this close to Eddie, especially in the timelines where he’s the closest to himself, to the Eddie Steve knew. He’s got memories now of 41 other versions of Eddie too, of the core things about Eddie that never ever change, and of the quirks and differences in the alternate timeline versions.
It was inevitable, really, that Steve would fall in love with him.
This famous rockstar version of Eddie is cool and charming, and still as flirtatious as Steve’s Eddie; he brushes his thumb along Steve’s jaw, then traces down to fit it against the two moles on Steve’s neck, and he says, “I’ve just got this feeling I’m meant to be close to you.”
And Steve’s only human at the end of the day — Eddie kisses him and he’s weak for it, he lets himself be taken back to a five-star hotel room because he hasn’t had the Right Door feeling yet. Eddie takes him apart like he’s trying to see what makes him tick underneath. He tugs him upright as they fuck, Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms around him like he could fuse them together if he just tried hard enough, if he just got deep enough.
It’s only after, when Eddie’s finally drifted off, that Steve gets the feeling and it tugs him towards the ensuite.
The noise must wake him; Eddie lifts his head, blinking sleepily and asks, “Is that the right door, baby?”
***
In Timeline 42, they’re childhood best friends and Steve walks into the moment Eddie is calling him back to stay on the RV a second longer, to ask him why high school changed everything.
Steve says he doesn’t know, and Eddie hangs his head and says, “It’s like I picked every wrong door possible.”
***
Timeline 43 is perfect. It’s exactly the same as the original, if not the original. Steve walks into Family Video, and Dustin leaps the counter. Gotta find Eddie.
Steve takes him home — can’t bear to leave him at Reefer Rick’s this time. He’s got one shot, to make sure Eddie knows he’s got something to live for on the other side of this. That he’s wanted. That he’s important.
He only kisses him for the first time (the 43rd first time) right before they split up at the trailer. He races back after, and the relief when he finds Dustin and Eddie safe in the Rightside Up trailer amongst a pile of dead bats crashes through him like 42 lifetimes of failure being washed away.
He kisses him desperately, and when they part for air, Eddie blinks like he’s waking from a trance, and says, “Steve? We have to get out of the loop.”
Prompt: Day 24 - Cassette Tape | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Major Character Death, language | POV: Multiple | Relationships: Eddie & Corroded Coffin, Steddie if you blink | Grief, friendship, saying goodbye, happy ending
They’re sitting on the raggedy old couch in Gareth’s garage when Steve Harrington decides to stop by for a visit.
“The funeral is on Friday,” Steve says, looking deeply uncomfortable. Jeff’s kind of impressed the guy can pick up on social cues well enough to know he’s not wanted here. “We want to put some things in the coffin. You know, personal things. Dustin suggested a tape. Messages for him.”
Steve fishes a shrink-wrapped cassette tape out of his pocket and hands it to Jeff.
“What are you, Dustin’s lap dog?” Gareth sneers. “Even if it wasn’t a stupid idea, which it is by the way, why didn’t Dustin bring it himself? Like, who the fuck are you in this equation, dude?”
Jeff can see the moment the words hit Steve like a slap.
“Dustin was hurt, and—“ Steve glances up the driveway, like he’s looking to make an exit. “You know what? Fuck it.” He snatches the tape out of Jeff’s hand. “We’ll record messages, you guys do whatever you want.”
He charges up the drive but Jeff chases after him.
“Steve, wait.”
Steve looks surprised but says nothing.
“It’s not a stupid idea. It’s just—“
“Look, I get it. You don’t know me, and this is weird. But Eddie had friends, a lot of friends, and we’re just trying to do something good. And I know Wayne would appreciate it.”
Invoking the name of Wayne Munson is no light thing. So if Wayne wants it, then that’s all he needs to know. And maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
This is the closest they’re going to get to a goodbye.
They agree to record their messages separately and not listen to each others.
Matty takes the tape home, he’ll drop it at Jeff’s later tonight. Jeff can give it to Gareth in the morning. All figured out.
*
“Uh, hi Eddie. Matty here. Obviously. I feel like such an idiot. What if someone robs your grave in years to come and finds this tape, I’d die of embarrassment. Sorry, that probably wasn’t cool to say. I’m sure no one will do that.
“I’m not really sure what to say: you were a fantastic DM. Just as well you’re dead, that would totally explode your head. An awesome guitarist, and I’m pretty sure Corroded Coffin is over now, we couldn’t replace you if we wanted to.
“Everything seems quieter now, even places where I wouldn’t have expect you to be. That’s really weird, huh?
"I don’t really—Rest in metal, Eddie. Gonna miss you, dude.”
*
“Hey Eddie. Steve Harrington asked us to record this for you, to put in your—well, for you. How are you and Dustin friends with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington? Anyway, that’s not really important.
“I’ve been thinking all night on what I should say, and I know I’m overthinking it. Trying to find something profound and intellectual to say, and I don’t think you’d care about that. I’m not sure what you’d think of the mushy stuff either. And then I thought well, let’s pretend you’re alive and leaving town.
"So: I’m going to miss you so much. I’m going to miss our phone calls, and swapping magazines, and you teaching me cool new things on the guitar.
“I’m going to miss having someone to talk to when my dad’s being an asshole.
“I’m going to miss having someone who understands me without ever having to explain myself.
“You could be a dick, and I know you know that, but you taught me about loyalty and fighting for your friends. And you were an amazing friend, Eddie. I’ll never forget you. I love you, dude.”
Jeff wipes his eyes and stops the recording.
Gareth refuses to take the tape, but Jeff stops making it his problem by shoving it in Gareth’s mailbox.
“He’s coming for it at five, so you better be ready!”
They all hurt, Gareth’s not special. Eddie babied him.
Well Eddie’s gone, time to grow the fuck up.
*
Gareth contemplates listening to Jeff and Matty’s messages, but he’s not that much of a dick.
He’s got an hour before that floppy haired prick comes to collect it.
Fuck it. He starts the recording.
“It’s me,” he starts sullenly. “There’s literally no fucking point to this.
“If you’re listening to this, Harrington, you’re a fucking dick. This isn’t funny. None of this is fucking funny.
“You’re never going to hear this anyway, so fuck it. I hate you. I mean it. I fucking hate you, Eddie. I hate you for leaving us. I hate you for leaving me.”
His throat tightens and hot tears follow soon enough.
“What am I supposed to do now? Jeff and Matty are leaving, and you said me and you we’d be—and now you’re gone, and I’m going to be alone and I miss you, I miss you so fucking much.”
He scrubs his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
“Fuck this, it’s ridiculous. Have fun with our tape Harrington, I hope you get a real good laugh. He was our friend! He was my best friend and I miss him and I hate you and I hate him and—“
He stops the recording. And then he falls apart.
There’s a handful of people standing around Eddie’s empty coffin. Gareth wonders if Steve actually did put the tape in or if he and Robin Buckley sat up all night laughing at him.
*
Steve sits on the little table they’ve set out in front of Eddie, everything placed within arms reach - water, a book, remote control. But the pain and exhaustion means he barely moves.
He takes Eddie’s hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey man, I’ve got something for you.”
Steve hands him the tape, ‘Corroded Coffin’ scribbled on the spine of the inlay card. Eddie takes it with a shaking hand and a soft smile.
“Something to tide you over until we can tell them the truth.”
