Wayne gets home at 6:40am as per usual. What he finds is… Not so usual. Eddie is curled up asleep in his armchair, and the sofa is occupied by someone Wayne's pretty sure he's never met before. He looks young, maybe Eddie's age, but what's most glaringly obvious is that the kid's been put through the fuckin' ringer.
His left eye and the circle of skin around it is a stark purple-red, swollen enough that Wayne clicks his teeth in sympathy. There's a cut on his chin, just under his lip. It's been cleaned and butterfly bandaged (Eddie's work, he's sure) but it sure doesn't look comfortable. Nor does the way he's propped up almost vertical by the couch cushions. He remembers doing the same for Eddie when he showed up on his doorstep with a broken rib courtesy of one Al Munson almost a decade back.
So, yeah. The kid looks like he's been tossed in front of a bus. Or smacked around by an asshole without a conscience. And he's fast asleep in Wayne's living room with Eddie apparently playing both nurse and guardian.
A gentle beeping tears his eyes away from the couch and towards his nephew, who is currently scrambling to turn off the little alarm on his watch. He sees him do a full-body jerk when he spots Wayne's figure, jumpy as he's always been, before he smacks a hand to his chest in relief and flops his entire body backwards, dramatic as he's always been.
"Jesus Christ, Wayne," he whispers with a large dose of attitude, "are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Are you?" Wayne murmurs back, nodding in the direction of the occupied sofa. "Who's the kid and why's he look like roadkill?"
aka Eddie ends up babysitting a concussed and drugged-up post s3 Steve Harrington and Wayne comes home to a confusing sight
(p.s. Eddie's watch alarm went off bc he's waking Steve up every 2 hours to make sure his brain hasn't disintegrated into mush)