Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He's going to die here, hell bats ripping him apart; blood is already soaking through his vest, dark patches steadily growing. The pain is starting to dull already, which is never a good sign. And he's moving slower, not even being able to deal with those already chewing on his torso, let alone the ones in the air.

He's going to die here.

He doesn't want to.

He desperately doesn't want to.

So he concentrates, it's easier than it should be, considering. He drops to his knees and just breathes, ignores gnashing and chewing, and the fading pain. One last chance, if he fails here there's nothing else he can do anyway.

The lab. The others. The prickle of a buzz cut under his chin as he holds her close. The fear and unease. The constant disappointed look in their eyes. His right hand absently covers his wrist, his Celtic knot tattoo, and the older one beneath.

He could never do what they wanted, see what they wanted, move what they wanted. But.

But.

He can do this.

His mediums had always been barriers and sound. A hummed tune to cause someone to trip over an invisible wall, a frantically tapping fingernail to block a doorway, a laughing song to give his girls floors to dance in the air.

Now he screams. Grabbing that part of himself he hasn't touched in years and yanking. He throws out power from his core and watches through dripping blood and wild hair as the bats are slammed back. Panting, he watches them flutter uselessly, unable to reach him as he wipes his nose bleed away. After a couple of moments they swarm onto the trees and streetlights that line the road, leaving just one hovering at his eye height as he drops back to sit on his heels, baring his teeth in a wordless snarl.

He’s survived worse. He survived the lab. He can survive this.

He just hopes the others kill Vecna soon.

Chapter Text

Steve leans back against the kitchen counter, watching the kids slowly tidy Hop's cabin, understandably quieter than usual, with Max and the Sinclairs still at the hospital. The older group is sorting boxes on the sofa, and Mike and Dustin seem to be losing a fight to an upended bookshelf, Joyce and Will in one of the other rooms across from them. El is curled up against Hop's side on the battered loveseat, not looking like she's going to let go anytime soon and he can't blame her.

Motion catches his eye, and through the window he spots Eddie pacing on the porch, his long fingers tapping against his chin, obviously talking himself into coming inside. There's no one Steve thinks he should be concerned about; even if he's got on Hop's wrong side in the past that won't matter to him now. Steve’s mind goes briefly blank as Eddie runs a hand through his hair, rings somehow not catching at all, then takes a deep breath and tugs it up into a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame his face. Entranced, he doesn't realise why Eddie freezes for a second until he blinks and catches his eye, stilling himself as they stare at each other. Eddie eventually breaks the stand off by tugging a hair tie off wrist with his teeth before finishing his bun. Steve deliberately looks away, trying to quiet his suddenly racing heart.

There's a quiet knock on the door that those on the far side of the room don't seem to hear, and then it opens and Eddie steps through, leaving it open behind him. Jonathon starts to get up, Robin half a second behind, both smiling in welcome, but Eddie is focused on something beyond them.

There's a choked off sound and the room falls silent as Steve whips round to see El drag herself out of Hop's arms and stumble across the room, throwing herself at Eddie when she gets close enough. He catches her round the waist and she wraps her legs around his, burying her face in his neck. Eddie's hands are tangled in her shirt as he murmurs into her ear, and Steve thinks hers are equally tight on his leather jacket.

She drops back to the ground when he can no longer hide his winces as he takes her weight, and Eddie's hands come up instead to frame her face. Steve can't place his expression as his thumbs brush her cheeks, but can see the glint of unshed tears, and he leans forward so he can kiss her forehead.

"What's going on?"

Eddie just waves Hop off, ignoring him as he rises unsteadily to his feet. Joyce appears from the backroom, drawn by Hop's sharp voice, and immediately heads towards him, hands raised placatingly, too far away for Steve to hear what she's murmuring to him.

"No, maybe I want to know how my kid knows the local dealer." Hop's voice has notes of something Steve doesn't quite recognise; something like steel, something like exasperation, something like well hidden fondness.

"I am offended by your implications, sir, offended! We were childhood friends, obviously." Eddie's voice is playful, full of laughter, evidently meant to be brushed off, but Steve's eyes are drawn to his left wrist. His jacket covers the wrist itself, however just peaking onto the bottom of his palm is the edge of a swirling tattoo.

"Munson!"

Eddie just laughs and twirls El round, slinging an arm over her shoulder and guiding her back towards Hop, ignoring the man's surprisingly halfhearted glare and lazy sideswipe.

"Now Steve gave me a list and I swung by the store, so someone else can unpack the van." His keys appear in one hand and he waves them with a lazy jingle and bright eyes, but his free hand goes to his side where El's legs had been.

Jonathan finally gets the rest of the way to his feet and nabs them, Dustin half a step behind, as up for helping Eddie with anything as ever. Robin waves her arms at him and he leans over the back of the sofa to hug her, reaching out and gently tugging on Mike's hair as he passes.

Letting them go he spins to face Steve, moving forwards enough to take him round the corner and out of the other's view. He raises his shirt, checking the bandages with a wince, but they're clean, and stay so even when he gently prods them. Steve takes an unconscious step towards him, reaching out, but freezes with his fingers a couple of inches away from Eddie's hip when he realises what he's doing.

"Sweetheart, if you wanna touch you gotta buy me dinner first, I'm not that kind of guy."

Steve can feel his face heat up at the quiet words, ears reddening in the way Robin constantly teases him about. But before he can move away Eddie steps forward, closing the distance, his fingers coming up to brush against the bruises on Steve's throat, and he desperately tries to focus on anything except how soft Eddie's skin is where Steve's palms rest between his bandages and jeans. That's a mistake because now all he can think about is the warm metal of rings and calloused fingertips against his throat, and his breathing speeds up.

Eddie's knuckle comes up to under his chin, tilting Steve's head up so he can catch his eye, thumb brushing along his bottom lip. His lazy smirk makes Steve weak at the knees and he chokes on an exhale, barely holding in a whimper. "Then again..."

The loud footsteps on the porch as Jonathan and Dustin return cut off whatever Eddie was going to add. He moves back, but not before catching a lock of Steve's hair and giving it a gentle tug. He twirls away, back into the main room, and Steve half slumps back against the counter, hand coming up to cover his mouth, chasing the ghost of Eddie's, closing his eyes as he fights to get himself under control.

The shopping bags are on Hop's coffee table when he manages to look around the cabin again, avoiding Robin's concerned look, and instead spotting Will. He's paused in the doorway of one of the bedrooms, eyes wide as he takes in Eddie. It takes a moment for Steve to realise that he's staring at the bandana in his pocket, and he gets a feeling he really should ask about that. A light flush appears across Will’s cheeks before he shakes his head and comes into the room properly, only to be spotted by Eddie immediately as he turns, as ever unable to stay still.

"Hey, you must be Will the Wise."

Steve can see the cogs turning in Will's head, trying to decide if Eddie's being mocking or not, eyes flicking over to Steve, who nods encouragingly. "Yeah, that's uh, that's me."

"I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things?"

"Yeah kid, good things." Eddie's voice is soft as he hands him a couple of snack bits, grabbing a six pack himself and throwing his other arm over Will's shoulder to steer him towards the kitchen. Conversation picks up behind them but Steve can only focus on the two of them as they approach.

They start on D&D, nothing Steve can follow, Eddie enthusiastic and rambling and Will hesitant but slowly starting to smile more as they go. Steve doesn't realise he's just watching and not helping, until Eddie hands him a pack of cookies and hip checks him out of the way to get to the cupboard behind him.

Eventually they trail off as Nance swings through to rifle through the cabinets for glasses, briefly leaning into Steve as she does so. He grabs the glasses she can't carry to the group herself and comes back to find Eddie looking at Will consideringly, Will just staring back with one raised eyebrow. Steve doesn't want to break whatever is happening, but Will sighs and waves a hand at Eddie before he can decide to rejoin them or not.

"I didn't say anything." Eddie raises his hands, with a gentle smile and a shake of his head.

"Maybe you should."

"Just, if you like the bowl cut then fine, but you do know there are other options right?"

"I could be convinced." There's a slight widening of Will's eyes, as if he didn't mean to actually say it out loud, but Eddie bursts into laughter. He tugs Will in, smacking an exaggerated kiss to the top of his head, then ruffling his hair. Will's blush is back, and he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times without saying anything and Steve truly understands.

"Atta boy." Eddie nods decisively, then releases Will and skips away to join the others helping sort the last of the food, but getting accosted by El before he can reach them.

Will wanders over to Steve, a little dazed, and faceplants in his chest. So Steve just wraps him in a hug, resting his chin on the top of Will's head, and gets a loose one in return. Glancing up to check that no one can hear he mumbles into Will's hair, "Eddie has that effect."

A hand tangles into the back of his shirt as Will goes still against him, then hesitant and barely audible, "Even on you?"

"Especially on me."

There's a soft huff and Will buries closer, and Steve loves him so much. He's closest to Dustin, true, but Will has always had a special place. After their second encounter with the Upside-down, with Jonathan out with Nance and Joyce having to work evenings and grieving Bob, he'd been around more to check on him. They’d gotten close as Will painted and Steve slogged his way through his final's revision, the radio on low because neither of them could bear the silence nor risk anything loud enough to cover approaching footsteps. They'd fallen asleep slumped together on the sofa so many times, only to wake to Joyce running a hand through their hair and sending them off to bed, making Steve feel all of six years old again.

The meal, such as it ends up being, is eaten quickly off the handful of cracked plates left in the cupboards. Not all of them can fit on sofas so, despite being injured, he and Eddie end up perched on the sideboard, Eddie's thigh a line of heat against his. He's distracted by the lazy way Eddie holds his beer, rings clinking against the neck and flashes of that damn wrist tattoo, unable to follow the loud conversations around them. Although that could be the headache, repeated head trauma and loud, chaotic noise don't mix well in his experience.

Apparently noticing something wrong, both Robin and Nance are frowning at him. He ignores them but when Eddie bounces to his feet a couple of minutes later, he catches Robin mouthing the end of something at him, and the unrepentant shrug she gives when she meets Steve's eye. Eddie tugs his wrist gently, thumb brushing against his pulse point, then heads towards the kitchen, collecting plates as he goes.

Robin gives him an encouraging nod and he follows, rubbing a hand across his forehead. Eddie has started the sink filling, and shrugs out of his leather jacket, revealing a couple of bandages and more tattoos, then setting aside his rings and bracelets. Steve knows he's been caught as Eddie clicks his tongue at him when his gaze linger a little too long on his left wrist as Eddie unwraps the leather band there.

Clearing his throat, Steve moves past to grab the dish soap and starts to wash up, conscious of Eddie grabbing a towel to dry. They’re nearly done when Eddie turns back to him, bottom lip caught between his teeth and towel scrunches up between his hands. The determined set of his jaw and the way he flicks a glance back at the rest of the group cause worry to pool in Steve’s stomach.

“Eddie?”

"I was Four."

Steve pauses, the plate in his hand dripping back into the bowl. Eddie reaches out to gently take it from him, casually flipping it over so Steve can properly see the complicated knotwork on his wrist before he can respond. He clears his throat a couple of times, silently revelling in the trust he's been shown. "I wasn't going to ask."

"I know, that's why it was easy to tell you."

Eddie holds his eyes, smile soft, and Steve forces his mind away from what he knows of the lab, of El's childhood. Forces his mind away from Eddie in her place. Without thinking about it too hard he reaches out, tugging Eddie close and wrapping his arms around him and tucking him tight against his chest, breathing in the smell of smoke, petrol and faint mint shampoo. Arms come round his waist as Eddie lets himself be held, head buried in Steve's neck, breath fluttering against the hollow of his throat.

They part after longer than they should, and shorter than Steve would prefer, a burst of laughter from the group startling them. Clearing his throat he grabs the plate again, returning to washing up, and searching for a change of topic. "What's going on with you and Hop?"

"I wandered off a lot those first couple of years out, got lost, wasn't exactly used to the outside world. He found me a few times, brought me home, kept an eye on me for a bit. He's good people, for a cop."

"He is that, yeah."

--

It's months later when he finds out more, curled up in his bed with Eddie shaking off the remnants of a nightmare, and whispers his secrets into Steve's chest. He tells him of being woken in the middle of the night as an old, kind faced orderly shakes his shoulder. Of her dragging him, half asleep through the complex to a staff exit. Of his Eleven seeing him, for some reason out of her room, the last of his two girls, Eight having vanished one day, and he'd never known 'til now that she'd gotten out too. All three of them had in the end.

Of Eleven waving him on when she realised what was happening, even before he did, the orderly having to sedate him when he tried to argue for her to come too. Of waking up in Wayne's trailer, his now uncle helping him sit up and eat with careful hands and a quiet voice. Of choosing a new name. Of becoming Eddie Munson.

A person. Not a number.

Never again.