part one part two part three II part five
Tw: mentions of vomit, disordered eating, reference to child abuse (past and current sort of), panic attacks, some body horror, some self harm- not fully intentional.
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Mama cooed at him too- soft words, gentle and careful. As if he was a time bomb, maybe he was. “I’m sorry you feel yucky, baby. We’ll fix it. We will be home as soon as we can. I’m sorry we’ve been gone, my darling boy didn’t deserve that.” Steve hiccups really soft, his throat catching the noise. She hummed softly, and Steve’s creature calmed a little more.
It craved basic contact, wanted it so desperately- wanted it from pack. Not the pack that had rejected him, it hates those in his house. All of them he loves, so much. Would die for- almost had died for. Don’t, don’t want him. Steve chews on his fingers, listening to his Mama try and soothe his terror over the phone. “You feel like doing something for me?”
“Yea’.” His voice catches in his throat, comes out chokes and rough. Steve whines softly at the sound, chewing harder on his fingers. Bites down to leave imprints, maybe bruises.
Mama’s all soft as she asks him to move the phone to their room- he nods, whining quietly at the idea of hanging up to do it. She soothes that with more practice than Steve ever thought she’d remember to have. “I want you to gather all the pillows in the house they haven’t touched, yours. The extras in our linen closet in the master bathroom- then I want you to get some soft snacks. Granola- the good kind. Even if you have to run to the store, baby. I want you to get some cheese sticks- or anything you feel like you can stomach. Then I want you to lock yourself in the bedroom until we come get you okay baby?”
Steve, swallows. Even listing down the tasks feels too big, too much. He sinks his teeth into his hands again. Blood bubbling on his lips, “Mama-“
“One thing at a time, can you go check if there’s anything in the pantry?” There’s no- not anything he wants, can eat. His hands jerk, the lines long enough for the walk. He stumbles his way into the room.
The pantry does have some of his Mama’s fancy granola, and there’s some flavorless, no added sugar yogurt in the fridge, pushed to the back. He whines at the sight, dropping the phone to peel the aluminum top off as fast as he can.
The clattering of plastic meeting tile startles him, he can still hear her talking on the line. And he almost drops the yogurt to seek out that comfort all over again. “Stephan? Stephan honey?”
He presses the phone between his shoulder And his head and scoops out the yogurt with his fingers, it’s gross, and a little slimy. If he wasn’t quite literally starving to death Steve knows he wouldn’t be doing it this way. “Hungry.”
Steve mumbles the words out around a mouthful of yogurt, and his fingers. Mama coos softly, “I know, but go slow or you’ll throw up baby.” He makes a face, he really doesn’t want to do that again.
“Don’t- I don’t wanna puke again.” She hums and tells him she knows, so he had to pace himself. Eat the yogurt, with a spoon darling, not your fingers that’s icky, she says it like that too- and he feels so small. We are creatures not animals. And then take the granola bag with him to their bedroom. Steve finishes the yogurt, painfully. Lack of food despite his best efforts have made his stomach protest even the smallest amounts of almost completely unprocessed foods.
The yogurt knots in his belly, but he’s not immediately nauseous. So it’s, it’s a win.
The master bedroom is locked, Steve had forgotten he’d locked the door to keep the pups- kids from getting into it. Least his parents get home and their bedding smells like intruders. The house does, but once he gets the key out of the false bottom drawer in the bookshelves bottom storage-
He has to count to 30 as he does it, Steve knows where it’s at. He goes from the phone as it doesn’t reach that far into the office- the phone on there is unhooked. Broken he thinks-
Steve’s back to listen to her softly talk him down from panicking again. Before he even reached 26, hands shaking and sides tugging and pulling. Pain curling over his body.
Unplugging the phone and plugging it back in requires an extra hour of calming down. Sobs that don’t taper off until Dad talks to him again. Shushes him and coos at him, Steve hiccupping into each breath.
By the time he has the bed with more blankets and pillows. Mama talked him through building half a nest, before he was in too much pain to continue the shuffling hunched over movement. It's been hours. Long enough that he’s talked through another trip to the kitchen- alone but fast. Another yogurt cup, as many bottles of water as he can carry.
Stomach painfully full, but not threatening to turn over. The door locked, his Mama talking to him softly, in a bed that smelled like his space. His blankets in the mix after a paranoid and painful trip upstairs-
He’s asleep by the time the sun comes up, the phone a soft dial tone in his ear after a soft- unheard goodbye baby, see you in a few hours- from both his parents.
Steve stays asleep content, and warm and safe. When the Byers brush through the house to start making late breakfast.
He misses his shared opening shift with Robin.
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Eddie toes his boots off, watching the teens pass by him in a rush to get into the house. Stumbling over each other, shouting about something or another that Eddie’s ears aren’t picking up. The tune into the steady, soft, calm. Sound of Steve’s pulse somewhere in the house.
He tenses, because Steve was supposed to be at work, with Robin. Robin, who wanted to talk to Steve about the whole “Bonded” thing. Not that, well she’d told him that, Eddie thinks it’s incredibly dumb to drop that on someone who doesn’t understand the concept just in the middle of a work shift-
Maybe he bailed on her- but. Even then, that doesn’t, that doesn’t sound like Steve. Even with the way they’ve all started holding him at arm's length. Maybe farther. Eddie’s teeth itch.
Steve’s pulse was steady, no jumps, no panic. None of the regular heavy anxiety that plagued Steve’s heart beat regularly, soft and steady. Sleeping. Peacefully too, no high blood pressure- nothing.
Eddie moved through the house- he wasn’t hungry. Not that eating actual food would do much, not unless it was basically raw- So he passed by the kitchen and almost ran right into the chair posted up in the hall. It scraped against the floor, his knee aching for a moment at the connection. He jerked, grabbing the back of it, holding it tight in his grasp for a moment. Eddie stared down at it, it was a chair from the living room, his eyes went to the table that normally held the phone- Which, was, not there. Huh.
He took a deep breath, and fully inhaled a mouthful of distress and anxiety.
Eddie got a good hold on the scent, mind pulling away from hyper focusing on Steve’s heart beat. Could still hear it thumping softly, his brain always hardwired to find the other. Eddie sorted through the scents in the house- There was a huge scent of panic, loneliness, and depression. That wasn’t hanging over the space last night, but it was there now, thick and clotted the further Eddie moved into the back portion of the house.
Towards the rooms that stayed locked.
Covered in the living spaces by wolf, witch, dragon, gremlin- excited emotions, all the regular flares of happiness, and content.
Eddie stepped back as he passed one of the few locked doors in the house. Senses slammed full force with the smell of rejection and hurt. He bit at his tongue, his hands shaking at his sides. It was thick. Laying on heavy, dragging on his shoulders- it held a sharper note, god if the back of the house- a part they didn’t go in. Eddie desperately didn’t want to know what Steve’s bedroom smelled like.
Because all of this? Fuck it smelled like Steve.
Serves him right truly- a flare of anger bright in his belly. Going and telling Eddie to fuck off like that. But it also burned why did he smell- there was so shuffling, and Steve’s pulse jumped just slightly before settling again. The sounds of bedding being moved around.
Eddie spun on his heel and walked back to the front of the house. The scent would cling on to him- and it got several heads to jerk up and stare at him as soon as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Witches didn’t have a nose for scents but the rest of them did. Besides maybe Dustin.
“Eddie? You okay?” Max's voice is careful, easy in a way it’s normally not “why do you-“ he shakes his head, picking at his clothes. Rubbing the fabric between his fingers.
“Not mine, uh. Don’t know, Steve maybe? Shouldn’t be this strong for a human.” It’s not, it doesn’t make sense, it shouldn’t smell like this, shouldn’t be this thick. Steve doesn’t even smell like anything half the time, besides like blood, and sick. Erica made a noise at that, huffing slightly. But ultimately, for apparently Eddie’s sanity, she kept whatever comment she wanted to say to herself. The rest of the kids shrugged, Max looked at him for a little longer before nodding slowly to herself.
They lingered around his edges, pressing up against him for the rest of the morning. Brushing against him- at least those that could smell whatever was clinging to him.
The morning was, simple. Regular just as it normally is. Maybe that’s why they didn’t think about the phone having not gone off for Robin’s regular morning call, maybe that was why they completely missed the car pulling into the driveway. It wasn’t until the click of a car door- Eddie tensed head jerking towards the door at the sound. Hopper came out of the kitchen, a rough growl already in the air.
A car door slammed shut, Eddie stood from his spot on the couch. The hair on the back of his neck rising, his teeth itch. The kid’s scramble, hearing it now. “What the fuck-” Mike’s voice is high, and whatever else the kid had to say is cut off by the unlocked front door all but slamming into the wall- a woman who looked frighteningly similar to Steve stands on the doorway.
Her teeth are bared, she’s making a sharp noise. Clicking, inhuman noises, sharp angry noise- Hopper growls, and there’s shuffling in the kitchen as he and Joyce- the only two adults there that morning, shuffle up and into the main room.
“Stephan?” The woman pays them zero attention, ignoring Hopper’s growl of warning. Just clicks against and moves to the back of the house. Towards Steve- “Stephan baby?” She coos it out softly, Eddie tracks her movement, watching her go. Confusion coating his stomach as panic curls off of his shoulders, not here for his, just invading- She lets out a soft series of clicks, noise people don’t make. Noise that sounds warped against his ears.
There’s a soft jump in Steve’s pulse, Eddie could almost hear the other wake up. There was shuffling, and Hopper growled heavily again. The noise rattling around in his skull, a few of the kids capable of making the noise mimicked it.
Eddie shuffled, pressing himself against the wall- enough to hear Steve and the woman having a soft conversation with a door.
“Get out of my house.” Eddie jerked, finding the new figure standing in the doorway, his eyes widening. Hopper’s growl cuts a little, Harrington’s- Steve’s parents. Holy shit.
Did Steve fucking call his Dad on them?
His Mom was still knocking on the door, she was quiet, voice soft. Eddie’s nerves were fried, his teeth itched. She clicked again, a pattern to the noise almost-
Hopper was still growling. No words had been exchanged, and the kids were scrambling over themselves to move out of the intruders line of sight. Dustin had a handful of Eddie’s jacket, the boy making a nervous chittering noise. Faceless monsters were one thing? Whatever the hell Harrington was, was, was another thing.
He shifted, Mr. Harrington cut an intimidating figure, he was shorter than Hopper and slimmer. But there was something different. “Get out of my house.”
Joyce was posted at Hopper’s elbow, Eddie was beginning to realize that this was about to be a shit show. “Supernatural rights state that we have a claim on the house, it’s our space.”
Harrington tilted his head to the side, and Eddie got his first real good look at the other. And unnatural focus to his eyes, unworldly. Dangerous, wrong, wrong, wrong- Something was- was, just, warped, different. Distinctly monsterish.
And Eddie’s a fucking vampire.
“Supernatural rights, say you are trespassing.” Hopper’s growl cuts. “Supernatural rights say I can kill you.” Down the hall, a lock clicks- and a door opens, and something, something so far from human lets out a high animalistic cry of distress. High, broken, wretched- and Eddie’s whole body tenses even more.
The predator in the doorway watching them. Threatening them, lets out a low noise- it rattles against his ears. Mrs. Harrington lets out a soft series of clicks and then the door shuts. Both answer the cry of distress. One with soothing motives and another with a promise to remove the thing causing distress.
Suddenly Eddie’s out of his depth, monsters, supernatural. Rules, Eddie isn’t-
It hits him. Steve’s not human, he’s not human-
They’ve fucked up, absolutely- the whole house smells like aggression and desperation. They’ve rejected Steve- holy shit they rejected Steve. No wonder he’s so hostile- they’ve fucking rejected him. Removed him bodily from pack- coven, bound gatherings in his own god damn house.
If they’ve bonded, a pair, a bonded pair in Robin’s case, and then imprinted in Eddie’s- holy shit they’ve basically been torturing Steve for the past several months- Oh fuck.
Eddie lets out a small hiss as Dustin opens his mouth. Not now- the younger boy jolts but snaps his mouth shut.
“Out, between the harsh rejection of my child, and then pushing into their space- without knowing what you do as of right now. Is more than enough to kill you over. But Stephan adores you all- Gods knows why. So just this one, you get a free pass. Get the hell out of my house.” And it’s- a flip has been switched.
Eddie watches as Hopper steps back, ducks his head, averts his eyes. Eddie does the same, tugs the kids out of the line of sight, grabs the back of Nancy’s shirt, hisses at Mike’s opening mouth. This is not something trivial. This isn’t a bitch their way out of. This is politics, this isn’t a pissing contest, this is Harrington is something with far more power than Hopper has-
If they refuse to leave, Harrington has full rights to kill or attempt to kill Hopper- for allowing his pack in someone else’s space. For allowing them to accept and then shove Steve out of the group almost bodily. They never had permission to be here, not really. Not since Steve’s word to Eddie in the bathroom, and they don’t have permission to be here anymore either.
There’s so many rules, a minefield of them, so Eddie herds the kids out of the front door. Almost shoving Nancy through the door, he is twisting, holding his ground in the doorway, as Harrington stands, protecting the hallway to the back bedroom. Steve’s pulse is loud, frantic, inconsolable. Hopper pushes at him. Him and Joyce holding the door while Eddie scoops up his shoes.
He can’t be here, can’t stand to try and be in this space any longer. Even if he was allowed, not with Steve sobbing, loud against his eardrums between walls.
They’ve royally fucked this all up.
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:) That’s as much as I have written down right now, so, part 5 might be, arriving sometime, later. Fingers crossed I actually post something on Ao3 before I make another ficlit post, probably not.
Anyway!
(Is this possibly going to lead into Non-binary Steve? Maybe, let me have this okay. I will steal all my favorite characters genders at least ONCE.)
Protective but shitty parents!! They are trying, is it their best? Hell no, but they’ll get there. Remember Gray Area.
Also, don’t bash characters please. I’m not actively trying to be like EVERYONE SUCKS. because they don’t, they are just, big fuckin dumb. It happens sometimes. Miscommunication my beloved and behated.
Also lots of world building, which I should totally expand on, (and explain truly) and will, depending on how out of control the plot bunny gets.
Really out here saying that I wouldn’t post more of this until I updated “An Untuned Piano Sounds less lonely” (Ao3 link)
I may be a liar. But at least It’s myself I’m lying too. (mostly, 50% of the time, sometimes its to my readers because I tend to change my mind)
Where THE FUCK, did all yall come from.
(full apologizes if I mess up tagging people again, I’m, very bad at this whole thing- if you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you, it’s probably because I couldn’t get it to actually work, or because my dumbass missed you asking.)
@theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter
@failedstarsandgoldenclouds
@a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld
@intergalactic-president-awesome
@vampireinthesun @estrellami-1
@raysreads @knightofthieves
@sassysleeplord @gezell-igg
@ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw
