"Fuel," Steve mumbled, staring up at the ceiling of his BMW. "I'll need to stop for fuel off the highway," Steve whispered, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was below half-which was dangerous, considering the state of Hawkins, but a lot of the stations still had fuel, seeing as most everyone had left town or were boarded up in their homes.
It was a blessing though Steve knew it wouldn't last.
He had been asked to go pick up Eddie at the secret facility a good sixty miles out of Hawkins down a windy road. A top-secret location, therefore Steve could hardly find it as his only directions were Dustin's transcribed scribbles on the back of an old Family Video receipt. Trying to decipher Dustin's squabbles over the phone had been hard enough, writing them down was another story.
But, alas, he had found the strange, ivy-covered building.
Eddie had been there a month. Steve personally dragged his limp form out of the upside down and through the gaping gate in his trailer to find the place packed with suit-wearing assholes, and lights shining in their eyes. Shouts rang in their ears, and helicopter blades beat over head.
They had been loaded up into the back of one of their large vans. Split and torn apart, sent away as the suit-wearing assholes stayed back to shut the gate down. Large machines fired up, and guns strapped to their forms. Like it was any other day in the office, ascending into the darkness.
'We're here to clean up the mess you made.'
Steve had been too tired to argue. To yell and fight. To scream in their faces that their mess had saved everyone's lives. That they had no idea what they had just gone through.
Little did Steve know that he had yet to go through the worst of it.
Forty-five minutes later, nearly unconscious in the back of one of their vans, the radio up front crackled to life. Two suit-wearing assholes assigned to escort them to the hospital turned the volume knob up, glancing at one another as they waited to hear of the team's success.
'Abort mission. I repeat abort the mission. Close the gate!'
'We still have soldiers in there!'
'They're gone!'
'What do you mean gone!?'
There had been silence, and the van slowed on the road. Eddie, who was unconscious and halfway to hell in Steve's arms gave a start, grumbling something under his breath. Shifting against Steve, Dustin reached out, grabbing his shoulder to steady them both.
'Oh, my god-is that...?'
'Is that what? Agent Frank answer me! What's going on up there!?'
'He's alive!?'
'Who's alive!?'
Dustin had spun to Steve, eyes wide, and mouthed the word 'Vecna' but Nancy shook her head furiously, pointing at him. 'I killed him.' She had hissed at him, but then Dustin spun, pointing to the radio in an argument. Only for it to crackle back to life.
'Sir. It's too late. There are too many, we can't stop them.'
'Stop who? Agent Frank! Come in Agent! Agent, answer your radio!'
'Sorry sir, God help the people of Hawkins.'
The crackling had faded off into gargled screams, then abrupt silence. Robin looked up from her blood-soaked hands and met Steve's gaze. Something of exhausted acceptance flashed behind her eyes.
They hadn't won after all. Their short victory diminished before their eyes not even an hour later. All the pain and sacrifice had been for nothing.
The radio clicked, once, as the two suit-wearing assholes turned to each other with fear in their eyes. Knowing something the kids in the back did not. Something they should have been made privy to before being carted away. Because then they could have helped. Then it wouldn't have turned to this.
This madness.
'God help us all.'
The radio clicked to silence, and the van had no choice but to continue forward.
Steve jumped, hands flying to grip his steering wheel as he turned to find Eddie in a wheelchair beside his driver's door, motioning for him to roll the window down, looking highly annoyed for having to do so. Like Steve should have been paying attention, despite waiting the extra hour for his arrival.
"Is your trunk empty?" Eddie asked when Steve pushed the door open.
Steve opened his mouth to answer, glancing up at the stern-faced nurse. "No." He spoke.
There were a few weapons he would rather not be confiscated rolling around in his trunk. A few very illegal weapons because Nancy's hands had shaken when she tried to put them in her car, so Steve had wordlessly taken them. He also had supplies, things he had found along the way to pick up Eddie.
Abandoned coolers from overturned camper vans. A package of toilet paper, and a case of water. A box half-filled with ammo, and a few wood boards he could fashion into something useful. Dented cans of food, three bags of flour-one torn that he had shoved into an old basketball bag he found in the tire well and a large case of tuna fish. He had almost left that one behind but thought better of it.
"Sounds like I don't need the crutches, asshole." Eddie spat, looking up at the nurse who only pursed his lips. Steve saw them then, clutched in the hands of the very pissed-off nurse.
"I'll take them." Steve sighed, then squeezed out as he rounded around the car to open the passenger door, wordlessly helping the nurse maneuver Eddie in. He took the crutches, shortening them before tossing them in his backseat among dirty folded blankets and a camping chair he had found. The nurse didn't ask a question, as the answer was rather obvious.
"I don't want to stay out here long if I can help it." The nurse finally spoke, cold and rude.
Then Steve was practically pinned against his car as the nurse began rattling off Eddie's care instructions, despite not asking how Steve even knew Eddie. But if Steve had to guess, and with the helpful hint of Eddie's mood, they were probably happy to be rid of him.
"It's all in the packet." The nurse finally sighed and handed over a gallon-sized Ziploc baggie. Little packets of pills, some powdered medicine that made Steve's eyes widen, and a thick packet of papers. "You were never here." The nurse ended, then turned on his heel and strolled away.
Steve finally took note of a guard standing a short distance away, a shield over his face and a large gun propped against their shoulder. Prepared for anything, and led the nurse back into the ivy-covered building.
As if they were never here.
Steve took a deep breath, before rounding around the car again and sliding into the driver's seat.
Eddie reached for the Ziploc bag, but Steve slipped it between his seat and the driver's door before starting the car.
"Give it to me, Harrington," Eddie demanded.
"No," Steve answered, reversing out of his parking spot, and checking his mirrors despite being the only car in the large lot. Though there were a few deserted ones-but the windows were shattered, and a few of them had doors torn off of them. Crumpled, and cast aside on the pavement.
"I'm not asking," Eddie demanded again.
"I don't care," Steve replied easily, turning out on the empty highway, avoiding a crater in the road from a fallen boulder. The boulder was a few feet away, having plowed down several trees before lodging in the wet soil.
"Why are you picking me up?" Eddie asked, shifting slightly in his seat, failing horribly at hiding a hiss of pain.
"Dustin can't drive." Steve shrugged, picking up speed as the highway cleared of debris for at least another few miles. It had been painful driving there in the first place, between fallen boulders, and fallen trees-having gotten out once to clear a few branches and random litter in the road. The camper van torn in half had been eerie to drive through, with a small kitchenette on one side of the road, and the demolished front end on the other.
Avoiding the madness altogether was hard enough, never mind having to look at blood-soaked leather seats while he drove.
"No-I mean why did you bother coming?" Eddie asked eyes firmly out the window. "We aren't friends, Harrington."
'He may be moody, it's a side effect of the medication. He'll see things that aren't real. He'll say things he doesn't mean. He'll want to eat-'
'I know how it works.'
'His behavior may be strange.'
'He was like that before.'
'This will be worse. Be prepared.'
Steve cursed the nurse out in his head as Eddie grumbled some more at Steve's lack of response. Both men simply looked out the window, watching the dying trees go by.
Eddie glanced over when Steve signaled off the highway despite there not being any cars and pulled into a gas station. Pulling right up to a pump.
"Want anything?" Steve asked, throwing the door open but glancing over at Eddie.
Eddie scowled for a moment, glancing over at the small mart attached to the gas station, before looking back at Steve. The windows were gone, and half the shelves were empty. But Eddie didn't comment on this.
"A blue Slurpee and chips." He spoke quietly.
Steve nodded, got out, and slammed the door.
He started the pump first, tapping the roof of the car twice before jogging over to the mart. He snagged two cans of Pringle's, a bottled water for himself before stopping at the Slurpee machine.
The urge to grab more food was high, but he had plenty for the time being at home. Someone in desperate need might stumble along, or Steve may even find himself returning and would be glad to find something in the abandoned Mart.
"No blue," Steve whispered.
Steve grumbled, shoving a cup underneath the red nozzle, and snagging a straw and a few napkins before walking back outside. He set everything on the roof of the car as he put the pump back, then opened his door to fall into his seat.
"That's not blue," Eddie spoke at once, snagging the BBQ-flavored Pringle's-though Steve had bought those for himself and the cheddar ones for Eddie. But he bit his tongue and decided to argue this wasn't in his favor for the hour or so drive back home.
"They didn't have it," Steve answered, handing the Slurpee over.
"I don't like red," Eddie spoke, popping the cap on the Pringles.
"Me either." Steve shrugged, then dropped the Slurpee in the cup holder, before starting the car again and pulling away.
Fifteen miles later, avoiding craters and fallen trees, Eddie picked up the red Slurpee and took a drink, only putting it back in the cup holder when the plastic cup was empty.
"This isn't my house."
Steve ignored Eddie, looking up at the garage door that led into the house as it edged open by a curious Jonathan, though he turned back just as fast, calling over his shoulder to whoever was in the kitchen.
"It's mine," Steve answered, gathering up the trash the two had created.
"So take me home, I'm not twelve. I'm not having a sleepover with you." Eddie bit out, looking up as the door opened again. Jonathan came stomping out with Argyle, as Will stood in the doorway, holding it open.
"You can't." Steve shrugged, handing the trash over to Jonathan who took it wordlessly. "Your trailer's not there anymore, your Uncle Wayne is at the motel-he'll be here in the morning to see you. You are staying with me for the time being, now be nice." Steve ordered, turning to him as he handed the gallon Ziploc bag to Argyle who tucked it under his arm.
"I don't know these people," Eddie argued.
"Perfect. Since we aren't friends, maybe you can make nice with them." Steve smirked at him, before hauling himself out of the car and slamming the door behind him.
"Crutches?" Jonathan asked, peering in Steve's back seat before looking up at the three steps that led into Steve's house. They were doable, obviously, but still annoying.
"Crutches." Steve sighed. "Don't be offended by anything he says, it's the medication," Steve warned them.
"Fuck you, Harrington!" Eddie shouted from inside the car.
Steve only rolled his eyes and turned to open the back door of his car, grabbing a hold of the crutches, before turning to talk to Eddie.
"You are going in that house, you can kick a fit or you can be nice, and I'll order a pizza as a reward," Steve told him.
"Are you bribing me right now?" Eddie asked, still glaring out the window. "Like a child?" Eddie pressed loudly and clearly offended.
"Stop acting like one," Steve suggested, then slammed the back door to round around and open the passengers.
"Don't touch me, Harrington," Eddie warned, having already unbuckled. Steve took a step back as Eddie grabbed the oh-shit handle, and the door jam as he tried to haul himself out.
Steve held up a hand to Argyle who took a worrying step forward, shaking his head as Eddie's legs shook as he tried to stand. He got up, a smug grin on his face before his knees buckled and that all fell away.
"Thought so." Steve sighed.
Steve caught him easily, bending to scoop Eddie into a bridal hold despite his loud protests, and Argyle stepped forward to shut the door for him, trailing him as he carried Eddie up into the house. Jonathan trailing behind with the crutches.
Will was timid as Steve stepped into the kitchen, Steve gently lowered Eddie into a chair despite his aggressive pinches and pokes as he pulled away.
"Eddie, this is Jonathan and Will Byers." Steve introduced, ignoring Eddie's glares. "That's Argyle, Jonathan's friend from California. They are staying here in the basement. You'll be in the guest room just down the hall." Steve told him, nodding to Jonathan who tugged Argyle out of the kitchen by his collar.
Carrying the crutches away with them as they went.
Though Will stood his ground, studying the infamous Eddie according to an infatuated Mike Wheeler.
Eddie and Steve stared at each other-Eddie still in a horrible hospital gown, hair a tangled mess around his shoulders before he finally let a breath of air out between his teeth. Steve smirked at his achievement.
"Are we still ordering pizza?" Eddie asked at last.
"Pizza?" Will snorted, turning to Steve-knowing full well that any and all delivery services had been unavailable since the supposed earthquake.
"It was never even on the table, Munson." Steve grinned, only causing Eddie to glare at him before Will straightened up slightly, glancing back over at Steve.
"Argyle can make pizza," Will noted. "But it'll probably just be cheese-the grocery stores are still...deserted. Produce hasn't exactly been in high quantity as of late." Will finally supplied.
"How long has it been?" Eddie asked suddenly curious.
"Since what?" Will asked in return, doing little to hide the pleased little smile on his lips.
"What day is it?" Eddie ignored him.
"It's Saturday." Steve supplied, turning to open a few cupboards, and looking for things he thought would work for making pizza. Not that he had a clue about what making pizza called for. But it busied his hands, and that was enough for him.
"That doesn't..." Eddie trailed off, then shook his head. "How many days has it been since the upside-down shit?" Eddie asked.
"We're still in the upside down," Will answered with a smile.
Eddie stared for a moment, then slid his gaze over to Steve who had dropped a container of flour on the counter with a soft grunt. Reminding himself that he'd need to clear out the back of his car soon, or let Jonathan know who was always looking for something to do around the house.
"It's not over?" Eddie tried.
"Nope." Steve turned, hand on his hip, and smiled at Eddie who only stared back. "It's here in Hawkins. So welcome to hell, Eddie. Glad to have you. You've been gone for a month, so I'll fill you in later. Will, holler for Argyle?" Steve asked.
Will laughed, nodding his head, and took off around the corner.
Argyle made a half-dozen pizza crusts, throwing four of them in the freezer for later. Taking advantage of the fact they still had electricity to start with. Then mashed up the few tomatoes they had left, sprinkling seasoning that Steve hadn't realized he owned and shredding the block of cheese that only needed a little bit of mold shaved off.
Eddie watched from the dining room table, refusing to speak as Steve and Jonathan sat at the other end, filling glass bottles with fuel and shoving cut-up shirts of Steve's mother into the tops.
'She's not coming back.' Steve had answered when Jonathan had hesitated with the scissors.
Will had been all too eager to hack away, taking delight in the slicing of the expensive woven fabric.
Why they were making the flame throwers, Eddie didn't know. But he wasn't going to ask.
All he knew was that the house was big, it was dark, and they all moved like a swarm of bees. Buzzing, chattering and-
"Isn't Jonathan your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend?"
Steve looked up from his flamethrower to study Eddie, while Jonathan only snorted, handing Will another shirt who hadn't even tried to cover his snorting laugh. Eyes lighting with amusement, scissors going a mile a minute, and ears tuned to track the conversation, despite knowing the outcome.
"He is." Steve agreed, setting the finished flamethrower off to the side, and picked up another bottle.
"So now your what...friends? Besties?" Eddie asked, darting his eyes between the two. But Jonathan was busy unfolding another shirt, fanning it out to get a look at the tag-eyes widening slightly at what he saw, while Steve peeled the label off the bottle for simply something to do.
"All friends under the eye of the spirits my man." Argyle chimed in, standing in front of the open oven with a spatula in his hand. His father's unused barbecuing apron over his neck. 'Kiss Me, I'm The Cook' sprawled out on his chest in red block-styled letters.
"End of the world, Eddie." Will provided with a grin, though Eddie clearly didn't understand what Will was getting at.
"Yes-crazy dude named Vecna." Eddie nodded but turned to Steve. "You were...exploring feelings in the upside down about Nancy." Eddie waved his hand about, though just as quickly dropped his hand to the tabletop, gritting his teeth to avoid crying out in pain.
"And I'm over those feelings," Steve told him, setting aside another finished flamethrower.
Eddie frowned, glancing at Jonathan but he was focusing on the bottle in his hand, pushing the fabric in the small hole on top. Beer bottles, and if Eddie had to guess, the three men in the room had to do with the three dozen empty bottles.
"Are you?" Eddie pressed further, glancing over at Argyle to see him crouching in front of the open oven, studying the bubbling cheese.
"Yes," Steve answered smoothly, pushing up to stand. "Will?" Steve asked, walking toward the garage door.
"Please," Will called out, focusing intently on the shirt in his hands. An old flannel, with pearl buttons that he was cutting around. Dropping them on the table in a small gleaming pile.
Eddie raised his brows, watching Jonathan who hadn't even raised a brow at Steve's offering of a beer to Will. At least, Eddie assumed what that meant.
Eddie looked up after hearing the garage door slam as a can landed in front of him, then watched as Steve handed a bottle over to Argyle, plopped one in front of Jonathan then handed a can over to Will who shot him a grin. Steve plopped down, at last, cracking open his bottle with only his bare hand.
"What the fuck is this?" Eddie demanded, picking up his cola can.
"Coke," Will answered, cracking his open, and taking a long gulp.
"No alcohol when you are on pain meds." Steve shrugged.
"Yes, alcohol when on pain meds," Eddie argued.
"No," Steve answered, pointing the neck of his bottle at him before taking a long sip, glancing over at Argyle to see him pulling the pizzas out of the oven. A triumphant grin splashed across his face.
"Steve." Eddie sighed, pushing aside the can. "I used to deal drugs for a living. I've dealt to you. I've dealt to Jonathan. I've dealt to half of Hawkins' High. I think I know a thing or two about being crossfaded." Eddie stabbed his finger on the table.
The kitchen went silent for a moment, aside from Argyle who was whistling as he cut into the finished pizzas.
"He doesn't know." Will realized.
"They didn't tell you?" Steve asked in disbelief.
"They probably did, he just doesn't remember." Jonathan helpfully provided.
"Bon appetite men!" Argyle cheered, setting down a cutting board filled with pizza slices.
Three hands reached out, snagging the cheesy pizza slices but Eddie sat still, as Argyle crashed into a seat beside Will. Reaching for his own slice of pizza. Grinning as the cheese stretched, from cutting board to mouth, nearly dipping into the pile of pearl snaps.
"What exactly, haven't I been told?" Eddie asked slowly.
Steve and Jonathan traded glances. Glances that Eddie did not appreciate.
"What haven't I been told!?" Eddie demanded, slamming his fist on the table.
"You were almost a zombie." Will provided, earning a mumbled curse from Jonathan. He dropped his slice of pizza to the table, rubbing at his eyes with his thumbs as Will only shrugged, taking another huge bite.
"Dead meat." Argyle grinned, bobbing his head.
"A zombie," Eddie repeated. "I was almost a zombie," Eddie repeated louder.
"The medication you are taking is flushing you out." Steve sighed, setting down his pizza slice. "It cleans your blood, makes you human again. How did you not know?" Steve asked confused. Because he felt like this was something Eddie probably should have been made aware of.
Eddie stared at him for a moment, before grabbing the soda can and popping the tab. "I found out twenty minutes before I sat in your shiny leather passenger seat that they were letting me go in the first place. Before that, I assumed I was going to live the rest of my life in a white, four-walled room." Eddie told him, tipping back the can into his mouth. Swallowing down a good three gulps, before lowering it back to the table, wiping his upper lip with the back of his arm.
"Really?" Jonathan asked shocked, pulling his thumbs away from his eyes, and blinking the room back into focus.
"They didn't tell me jack-shit. Morning, noon, and night, they came to dump green smoothies down my throat and place pills on my tongue. I wasn't told a goddamn thing. I was handcuffed to my bed, Harrington-I didn't even know I was in Hawkins!" Eddie threw a hand up.
"You should eat." Argyle urged, but Eddie ignored him.
"So, pray do tell, how exactly was I almost a zombie?" Eddie stressed, eyes slightly wide and panicked. Almost being dead was one thing. Almost being the walking dead was another. Eddie couldn't take the delicate balance he seemed to be performing between the two.
"Poisoned upside-down bats." Will grinned at him, reaching for another slice. "Infected you with a virus." He nodded, cramming half of the slice into his mouth in one go.
"Steve here had to sweat it out all on his own." Jonathan waved a hand at Steve, relaxing back against his seat as he sipped his beer.
"You sweated out your possible zombification." Eddie deadpanned, then squinted at him. "Why couldn't I sweat it out? What makes you so special?" Eddie asked.
"Because you died, Eddie," Steve spoke, folding his fingers together. Hiding away the shakiness. "You died, and the people at the lab brought you back. They are doing the same thing to Max as we speak, she just...has more to heal than you did." Steve told him, eyes trained on his fingers.
"Red was there!?" Eddie asked shocked.
"And Lucas-you didn't know that either?" Will asked confused, arching a brow.
Eddie took a deep breath, turning to Will. "Let's just assume I don't know anything, got it?" He smirked at him ignoring the quick glare Jonathan sent his way, then turned back to Steve. "They were attacked by bats too?" Eddie asked.
"No." Steve whistled, turning his head slightly. "But Max did die, and they're doing some blood transfusion shit from Lucas to keep her...alive." Steve provided. "I tried to offer, but he was a better match than me." Steve shrugged. "Probably for the best." He ended in a whisper.
Eddie blinked, shaking his head slightly before reaching for a pizza slice, taking a bite that had Argyle grinning ear to ear as Eddie chewed. Staring thoughtfully down at the table, he looked up, trading his eyes between the two boys still eating, and making flamethrowers. Will was grinning at him over his coke can.
"Zombies." Eddie finally whispered in disbelief.
"Dead meat." Argyle reminded, then handed him another pizza slice. Making coaxing noises that had Jonathan barking out a laugh.
Steve grunted as he walked Eddie down the hall, a pale thin arm thrown over his neck and the very distinct smell of dead meat filling his nose. It had taken him ages to get it out of the house and keep the zombies out in the process. Luckily, Eddie had already gone through the worst of it.
Steve pushed the bathroom door open with his hip, dropping Eddie haphazardly onto the closed toilet seat, wincing as Eddie hissed right in his ear in pain.
They had left Argyle and Jonathan at the table, flamethrowers in hand and guns on their hips. Will rolled his eyes at their antics, stealing the last pizza slice for himself.
'Perimeter check my living friends!' Argyle had grinned.
Eddie had only nodded, a little pale at the idea. Will had taken the radio down into the basement, sleepily telling Jonathan to be safe, and that he was going to radio Dustin hopefully catching him before he went to bed.
"Have you killed one of these zombies yet?" Eddie asked, watching as Steve rummaged through bandage packages.
"Three this morning," Steve told him, setting aside two bandages. "Are you wearing boxers?" Steve asked.
Eddie frowned for a moment, then slowly dropped his hand to his hip, feeling along his side before shaking his head.
"Negative." He answered.
"Right." Steve nodded, then held up a finger at Eddie before turning on his heel and leaving the bathroom. Eddie stared after him, confused before turning back, throwing a hand up. First Steve was living with his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend, second zombies, and now Steve was leaving him to his own devices.
Zombies? What the actual fuck was that-and how was Steve so nonchalant about killing them? Eddie would shit himself if he had to kill a zombie. Though the low-budget horror films always made them out to be...well, zombie-like. Slow, gargling blood and shouting 'brains, brains, I want to eat your brains.' Eddie never found them to be very realistic.
Steve reappeared, clothes clutched in his hand and the Ziploc baggie under his arm. He shut the door once more, setting everything on the counter before turning to Eddie. Hands-on his hips, a familiar Harrington stance, and a light pink blush on his stubble-covered cheeks.
"Same equipment, right?" Steve started.
Eddie only stared.
"So...seeing yours will be like looking at mine." Steve pointed first at Eddie then at himself. "Right? No big deal." He tried to smile, but Eddie took it as more of a grimace.
Eddie stared a moment longer, before letting a laugh slip from his lips and shook his head. Knotted, curly hair falling over his shoulders as for the first time something amusing had happened to him in weeks. "Mine, Steve? Will surely be inadequate compared to yours." Eddie snorted, looking back up to see Steve had turned pinker.
"I am not that big." Steve scoffed, folding his arms over his chest.
The boy sure knew how to blush.
"Your big." Eddie nodded, giving Steve a once-over. "I can tell." He decided, nodding once more.
"How can you tell?" Steve asked, looking down at himself. As if he didn't know what he was dealing with.
"Intuition." Eddie decided, then groaned. "You aren't allowed to say shit-you hear me, Harrington? There are zombies, apparently? And you live with your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend-so plenty of weird shit to focus on rather than my inadequately sized dick, got it?" Eddie pointed at Steve.
Steve's eyes went slightly wide at the bluntness, but he nodded, hands in the air.
"And you are not giving me a sponge bath." Eddie tried to argue one last point.
"I was going to drop your ass first into the tub, turn the water on-which doesn't go hot anymore by the way and hope for the best." Steve drawled taking a step closer to Eddie before reaching for the hem of the hospital gown.
"No-no, no." Eddie shook his head, pushing Steve's hands away. It was his turn to blush now, and he turned it up to a thousand degrees as Steve made another swipe for the hem.
"Eddie." Steve sighed, annoyed.
"I'm insecure, Harrington!" Eddie hissed, defending himself as Steve swiped one more time.
"I'm sure your dick is fine!" Steve stressed loudly. "It probably looks great, a perfectly fine-sized dick, Eddie now take your clothes off!" He argued, finally catching the hem and moving to give a tug as Eddie fought him off loudly when they were interrupted.
"Oh my god."
Steve spun, his hand landing on the door handle, and yanked it open. Will stood there, both hands clutched around the radio, eyes squeezed shut. Hiding his face as he shook his head slowly, clearly prepared to see something he very much did not want to face.
"We're decent," Steve told him, standing up straight.
Will slowly pried one eye open before breathing out a sigh of relief, sagging against the door jam. He held up the radio, giving it a little bobble before speaking.
"Dustin wants to know if you can pick him up around' sunrise tomorrow?" Will asked.
"Sure, you told him Eddie's here then?" Steve asked with a soft laugh.
"He just said he wanted to see everybody, said it's been a while." Will grinned, then pointed the radio at Eddie. "I'm glad you aren't a zombie!" Before spinning and running down the hall.
"For a kid that's living through a zombie apocalypse, he sure is chipper," Eddie noted as Steve shut the bathroom door once more.
"It's not an apocalypse." Steve snorted, turning to plug the bath and turn the water on. Eddie ignored him. "And he was stuck in the upside down for a week as a kid." He shrugged.
"There are zombies. It kind of goes hand in hand, Harrington." Eddie pointed out, fiddling with the ties on his side, undoing the one around his knee. Mainly so he didn't have to pull it over his head, for some reason that was far more humiliating. "I remember when he went missing." He recalled.
"The zombies are only here in Hawkins," Steve told him. "Most residents have left, but quite a few can't-what with the earthquake and all. The hospitals overrun, but every one that is left is gun-toting hillbillies, so we're holding out pretty good." Steve nodded, then turned, only to turn back just as fast as Eddie continued up his line of untying his hospital gown.
Very slowly revealing his very pale skin to Steve, right where his hair went a little more blonde, and a little finer.
"So are the zombie's people we know?" Eddie asked, wincing as he got closer to his rib cage, as it became harder to reach-he did not want to ask Steve. Scratch that, he refused to ask Steve. "Is Tammy Thompson a zombie?" Eddie asked with a soft snort that was quickly followed by a hiss of pain as he brushed over a bandage.
Steve snorted, finding humor in Eddie's question. "Not that I'm aware-but uh-yeah, I've recognized some people. Heidi-did you know a Heidi?" Steve asked curiously.
"No." Eddie sighed, falling back against the back of the toilet. "I can't reach." He spoke, before dropping his hands in his lap, firmly keeping the gown against his inadequately sized zone of insecurity.
Steve turned, and knelt gently beside the toilet, fingers reaching to tug the little knots free until the gown fell into Eddie's lap completely.
"Close your eyes," Eddie demanded.
"I'll drop you in the tub if I can't see," Steve told him.
"Good-end my suffering." Eddie tried.
Steve only sighed, worked a hand behind Eddie's shoulder, another under his knees, and lifted.
Eddie squawked, hands flying to wrap around Steve's neck as he lifted, took two steps, and gently lowered him down into the tub. Eddie hissed at the cold water, bracing a hand on the wall as he slid down slowly, until finally settling in the water. The gown still pooled around his waist and was now soaking wet.
"Here." Steve reached over Eddie's shoulders, grabbed a large bottle of lavender soap, immediately turned topside down, and squeezed, drizzling bubble bath into the water, before reaching to stir.
Eddie slapped his hand away with wide eyes. Large hands, small dick-Eddie didn't need that right now.
"I can do it." He insisted quietly.
Steve nodded, pulling away completely, and sat back on the closed toilet.
"You are watching me bathe?" Eddie asked, handing over the soaking wet gown as the bubbles effectively covered him up. Steve picked up the small trash can and held it out, allowing Eddie to drop the gown inside, smiling as it landed with a wet slap.
"The meds can make you pass out." Steve supplied nonchalantly, setting the small trash can back. "Can't die before Henderson sees you." He commented, then leaned back against the tank of the toilet, arms folded over his chest, and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
Eddie was grateful for what small feeling of privacy that provided.
"I'll squeeze the absolute fuck out of your windpipe Harrington if you say a goddamn unsavory word," Eddie grumbled, trying his hardest to relax in the cold water but it felt like it was turning him to ice. "Fucking cold." He complained.
"Heater doesn't work," Steve spoke, grabbing a plastic cup off the counter before handing it over to Eddie. Eddie ignored the lace of amusement in his tone. Deciding it wasn't worth the petty fight.
Steve had totally seen his dick.
Eddie dipped the cup in the water, scooping a good amount out only to lift it about halfway, grunting as he couldn't turn it over his head. He froze, eyes stuck on the faucet nozzle. He wasn't asking. He was not going to ask-how humiliating was that? He didn't have to, as it turned out because Steve didn't care for permission.
Steve pushed closer, grabbed the cup from him, and gently turned it over his head. Wincing as Eddie shivered at the coldness. He didn't say a word, only dipping the cup to do it again. Up, over and out. Up, over and out.
Eddie felt it then. Something crawled up his skin, filling his chest and consuming him. Something foreign, but comforting. Like it had been sitting on the sidelines all this time.
Eddie moved to turn. Words on the tip of his tongue, but Steve merely turned the cup over his face, effectively drowning Eddie out of water, and he was forced to splutter. Coughing as the water tried to rush down his throat.
Steve had seen it coming a mile away, he was only glad he had managed to time it right so the others didn't see.
"You aren't going to bite me," Steve warned, reaching over his shoulder to pump soap into his hand. Filling the palm of his hand in hopes of riding the stench here, rather than being forced to do it in a few days when it consumed everything Eddie touched.
Eddie moved without thinking, head craning backward to reach Steve's forearm with his mouth, but Steve only pulled away.
What was he doing? He wasn't in control of this. Eddie frowned, something pounding between his brows before it fell away, and he focused on Steve's words.
"I'm not?" Eddie asked though he wasn't sure who prompted the question to spill out of him.
"No-because I was already almost a zombie, and that shit was horrible," Steve told him, scrubbing his hands through Eddie's hair.
Eddie was too out of his mind to even enjoy it. His vision blurring, his ears ringing and something odd thumping beneath his chest. But he focused on Steve's voice. Trying to ground himself as he dug his nails into his thigh, ignoring the flash of pain as he moved his legs, igniting the skin underneath the bandages on fire.
"Tell me what happened," Eddie ordered not so gently.
"I escaped, well I didn't realize I had. I thought I had this horrible fever, so I drove to Dustin's, hoping his mom had stronger medicine than what I had left laying around." Steve began, moving away to grab a comb out of the cupboard. Eddie reached for him when Steve knelt back down, but Steve only batted his hand away with indifference.
"I blacked out after pulling into the driveway, I don't remember much after that. Dustin found me on his front lawn trying to eat a rabbit, scared him so bad he called Nancy, who came over with Jonathan." Steve continued, combing through a knot with care.
Eddie inhaled harshly through his nose.
"Nancy had been talking to Hopper, who talked to this guy named Dr. Owens-and they figured out what was wrong with me. But Dr. Owens didn't have room at the lab, nor deemed me serious enough for care seeing as I hadn't died like you and Max." Steve paused for a moment, reaching for the shampoo again.
Ignoring Eddie's hand as he reached for him again, sluggish and slow.
"So Jonathan brought me here-all tied up and shit and dumped me in my living room before boarding up the house. Boards over the front door, the backdoor, and all the windows. Nancy said it took him a couple of hours." Steve sighed, scooping up another cupful of water to dump over Eddie's hair.
Eddie picked at a scab on his knee, his hand coming up to his mouth but Steve pushed it away before continuing.
"Once I became lucid enough, I radioed Nancy who explained it to me," Steve told him, wincing as the comb stuck in a particularly large knot of hair.
Eddie raised his hand to his mouth again, but Steve pushed it back down into the water.
"I had to sweat it out for a week, I didn't eat. I tried to bust through the doors and windows, but I was weak...sluggish, and slow." Steve explained, pushing Eddie's hand down again. "Then, one morning it's like I puked it all up. This black sludge, I thought I was dying if I'm being honest." Steve laughed softly, smacking the comb on Eddie's wrist when he reached for the scab again.
"So, I called Nancy freaking out and she called Dr. Owens. Turns out after that I was good to go, so a few hours later Jonathan moved in with Argyle and Will, armed with meds, guns, and some horror stories of the zombies trying to take over the cabin. It had been rough out there from the sounds of it. Too exposed. Too many living crammed together."
Steve knocked Eddie's hand away harshly, making Eddie growl something undecipherable.
"I slept, for like three days, and now I'm back to normal. Well, sort of." Steve admitted.
"Normal," Eddie repeated, though his tongue felt like cotton and foreign like it wasn't his.
"I'm nearly deaf in my left ear-it rings and shit, and my vision is blurry in my right," Steve admitted, then grabbed Eddie's wrist, lifting it toward a short handle in the wall. "Hold on to this and don't let go." He ordered.
"Okay." Eddie agreed, blinking dazed at his pale skin.
"Nancy said it's probably a side effect of all dead shit that went through my veins, it attacked the weak parts of myself." Steve shrugged, drawing more of Eddie's hair off his shoulders and to his back, dumping water down his curls before going at it with the comb. "S'fine through Dustin's madder than I am." Steve laughed softly.
Eddie clenched his hand for a moment, watching as his veins popped out on his forearm, a dark shade of purple against his ivory skin tone.
"So now for the past month or so we've been making supply runs between here, Murray's place where Joyce is nursing Hopper back to health with El, and the hospital," Steve told him. "Sometimes we clean bodies out of the street, or loot houses when they are vacated," Steve told him.
"You steal." Eddie pointed out, narrowing his eyes at his wrist again.
"Hawkins' has been abandoned. Every road out of here is barricaded by the National Guard, and some secret force shit. They are waiting for all of us to die." Steve told him, admittedly a bit too harshly before he took a deep breath, grounding himself. "We're trying to keep as many of us alive as possible." He added softly.
"Living," Eddie spoke.
"Yes." Steve nodded, now combing through Eddie's hair freely, searching for more knots. "As best as we can anyway." Steve sighed, setting the comb off to the side and reaching for the conditioner just as a soft knock sounded on the door.
"Eddie's in the tub," Steve called out.
Eddie curled his fingers around the handle as tight as he could.
The door edged open just a crack before Jonathan spoke.
"Perimeter check is done, we fixed a board on one of the windows," Jonathan spoke, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "Uh-Nancy and Robin radioed." Jonathan cleared his throat, going still behind the door.
Steve pulled his hands away from Eddie's hair and pushed up to stand, in two easy steps he was at the door, pulling it open part of the way.
"Are they okay?" Steve asked worriedly.
Nancy and Robin had been bunked down at the Wheeler's for the past month or so, as Karen wanted her kids close and Robin's parents had taken off right around the earthquake. Leaving behind Robin whom they had thought was missing. Robin hadn't been able to contact them but was satisfied knowing they were safe at least.
It was a sore subject, her being abandoned. No one talked about it.
"They are fine." Jonathan nodded.
"Jonathan," Steve warned.
They had a new rule, that went alongside 'friends don't lie'.
'Always tell the truth, even if it hurts.'
"Ted was bitten." Jonathan finally spoke, wincing as he said it. "He and Nancy's mom went on a food run, Karen didn't come back home." He ended gently.
Steve studied him for a moment, before sighing. "Ted got into the house?" He guessed.
"Before Nancy knew what was wrong, yes. Almost took Holly, but Mike saved her while...while Robin took care of Ted. They'll be here in about an hour, depending on the roads." Jonathan informed him. "Will's setting up a cot for Mike, but...but I think the girls would appreciate the guest room." Jonathan told him.
Steve furrowed his brows confused for a moment, because of course they could have the guest room.
Oh. Eddie.
"I'll have Eddie in my room." Steve decided.
"That's not what I-" Jonathan went to protest.
"It'll be safer, I know how to handle the little...episodes." Steve waved him off.
"Steve." Jonathan groaned though Steve could tell he knew it wasn't much of a fight anyway.
"I don't sleep anyway," Steve told him, stepping back to close the door, though paused. "He'll be fine, and away from Holly. That's what matters." Steve pointed out.
"Protecting the kids." Jonathan recited with an eye roll, before taking a step back. "I'll check them before I let them in, but Nancy said they were clean." Jonathan nodded once, taking another step back.
"Feed them," Steve told him.
"You take care of people too much." Jonathan decided, already turning away.
Steve only shook his head and shut the door. Upon turning around, he found Eddie intently studying his hand still holding onto the small handle. Staring at his skin-completely oblivious to their conversation.
"Alright, Eddie. Let's get this over with." Steve whispered, and Eddie didn't turn around, he only spoke.
"Inadequate."
Steve snorted, shaking his head but Eddie never joined his laughter.
It was a fight, and Eddie made one near-fatal chomp on Steve's arm before Steve had him wrapped in a towel, and perched on the toilet seat again. Steve was sweating as he wiped the back of his hand across his brow, turning to open Eddie's issued Ziploc bag.
"Take this." Steve held out a small pill.
"No," Eddie answered.
Steve sighed, pinching the pill between two fingers, and stepped forward. Eddie eyed him warily, shrinking back before Steve pounced, one arm around the back of Eddie's neck, his face pinned to Steve's stomach, and his other hand prying Eddie's mouth open, where he quickly dropped the pill between his parted lips and forced his mouth closed.
All before Eddie could even think to cry out.
But Eddie froze, and Steve knew the pill was sitting on his tongue. He glared daggers at Steve, firmly keeping his lips pressed together.
"Swallow it so I can change your bandages," Steve ordered.
Eddie shook his head once.
"I'm stronger than you," Steve warned.
Eddie lifted one brow.
Steve saw it coming a mile away but pretended to hesitate as Eddie shifted, gearing up. Eddie lunged, but Steve only braced for it and tightened his hold. Leaving Eddie flailing and choking on his tongue. He scrambled, towel falling away as his hands reached up to claw at Steve's forearm. Sharp nails dug into Steve's sensitive skin.
"Swallow," Steve demanded lowly, speaking down to Eddie still being held against him.
Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head so Steve flexed, drawing his forearm in tighter across his throat. Eddie's lips slammed open, sucking in a gulp of air that sent the pill tumbling down his throat.
He choked, as Steve pulled away and doubled over, but the pill had been swallowed, leaving Eddie gasping for air.
"Listen to me the first time." Steve bent over, dodging Eddie's swatting hand, and dropped the towel back on Eddie's lap. He couldn't help but glance, but darted his gaze away at once, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You'll learn to control it better, draw your real self up to the surface," Steve explained, even as Eddie turned a slight shade of red as he panted.
Do not picture it. Do not picture it.
Steve pictured it, cheeks turning pink before Eddie was speaking, and Steve was turning back.
"Fuck..." Eddie gasped, fixing the towel as he rubbed a hand on his throat. "You." He finished, shooting Steve a glare.
"Time for bandages." Steve decided.
Curses filtered down the hall through the closed bathroom door as Steve peeled away wet bandages, and replaced them with new ones. Hardly faltering over every bat bite mark he revealed. He had his own matching set beneath his shirt. Eddie snarled and argued with Steve all the while, but braced himself against the toilet tank and let him work.
Seemingly understanding how necessary it all was.
Steve was nearly done, wrapping a bandage around Eddie's forearm when a rapid knock came on the bathroom door before the door swung open and Robin barged in, slamming it behind her.
"Fuck Steve." Robin groaned, plunging her hands into the sink as she turned the water on with her elbow. The small porcelain basin filled with red liquid at once.
"Everyone alright?" Steve asked, taping off Eddie's bandage-though Eddie was completely distracted by Robin now, watching as she scrubbed harshly at her arms.
Though Eddie didn't know that Robin was less so washing away blood and more so washing away the indescribable fear that she had somehow gotten bit without knowing. Searching for those bite marks.
"Shaken up." Robin supplied, tears welling in her eyes as she scratched at her skin where the blood had caked on. "Holly won't stop crying, Mike hasn't said so much as a word and Nancy's a ticking-fucking-time bomb, Steve." Robin cursed, before slumping over the sink with a gasp.
No bite marks.
"Jonathan told me you killed him." Steve was throwing bandage wrappers in the trash can, still ignoring Eddie who was still staring at Robin's arms.
"I shot him in the head," Robin whispered, slowly drawing herself back up, taking a deep breath before pumping soap into her hands. Now she would wash the blood away.
"You did the right thing," Steve told her, setting the trash can back down before standing up. "Do you want to go with me at sunrise to go get Dustin?" He asked.
"God, yes please." Robin groaned, shutting the water off much to Eddie's disappointment, and yanked the towel off the small hook. "Good to see you, Eddie," Robin spoke.
Eddie's eyes slowly traveled from where her hands were wrapped around the towel, and to her face.
"Hi." He spoke evenly.
Robin's eyes flicked to Steve in question.
"He's coming down," Steve explained, grabbing the stack of clothes off the counter, and dropped the shirt over Eddie's head. Though Eddie didn't move, merely peered through the collar at Robin. It was almost cute if his gaze wasn't so intense and soul-searching.
"Well I'm glad he's back, we'll need his touch for breaking in and stealing once he heals up." Robin grinned, dropping the towel on the counter. "Where's he sleeping?" Robin asked curiously.
"In my room with me-it's safest, until he's back to normal," Steve explained, but Robin only hummed.
"Dustin's going to love that." She eventually decided on.
"I'm sure he will."
Steve and Robin turned to Eddie in tandem, still gazing at them through the collar of the tee shirt. His eyes widened slightly at the attention, and he stood taller. He flicked his gaze between the two, before pointing at Steve.
"He saw my dick."
"Oh my god."
Robin turned, slamming the bathroom door behind her as she fled. Steve turned to Eddie with a sigh, who only shrugged at Steve in answer.
"Let's get you dressed, princess." Steve nodded, patting Eddie's shoulder before holding up the pair of boxers that Eddie only let drape over his finger. "Well, I've seen it once," Steve whispered and bent down to work them over Eddie's very pale, very long legs.
It was a feat and a half to get Eddie up the stairs, as Steve finally settled on a bridal carry. Ignoring Eddie's pitiful whines and grumbles, before letting out a shout as Steve dumped him on his unmade bed.
Steve stepped away as Eddie hissed in pain, curling in on himself. Steve parted his curtains just a sliver, peering out on the street. A lone zombie was crawling his way across the street toward the Baker's abandoned house-Steve had already looted it of everything valuable.
Though the Harrington house was the last one in his neighborhood with anyone left living in it, the Gordon's a few houses down had left only a couple of days ago. Finally deciding they weren't as tough as they claimed to be, and couldn't wait it out in their mansion.
Steve had to guess it was because Mrs. Gordon finally threw a fit about not being able to use her pool.
Steve let the curtain fall back, as the sun was beginning to set and they had noticed zombies became a little crazed when the sun was no longer out. Why they weren't sure.
The running theory was that they could kill easier in the nighttime. Lurking in the shadows. Unsuspecting, unnoticeable.
They were also incredibly smart-some of them anyway. Acting almost like ordinary people, but paler and slightly more crazed. They'd make harsh comments, and snarl or growl at you. They would be jumpy and grab at you. A dead giveaway was if they had blood on their face, or if they looked unkempt for any reason. Or weren't carrying a weapon.
Some were easier than others to identify. The ones so far gone they were more corpse than human was easy. But the freshly turned ones? They'd look like just about anybody on the street.
Hence the rule.
Zombies lied.
Humans told the truth.
Steve tugged open a drawer at his desk, digging beneath school photo packets he had never shown his parents, and field trip permission slip forms he had never signed, finally finding the pair of silver cuffs at the very bottom.
A gag gift from Tommy on his seventeenth birthday.
Eddie cringed away as Steve neared, but Steve only snagged his arm and clasped the cuffs around the arm that was the least mangled. Before reaching up, and clipping the other handcuff to his bed frame.
Eddie gave three sharp tugs, before turning to glare at Steve.
"Precautionary," Steve told him-though Eddie wouldn't remember this part of the conversation.
Steve then crossed to his closet and edged the door open enough to peer into the two cardboard boxes sitting at the bottom. It was what they had looted from the Munson trailer before the zombies completely took over the park. Wayne had taken off with his lot, working at the motel as part of the crew that went on daily killing sprees. Only shrugging his shoulders when Steve had taken Eddie's stuff.
Back then they hadn't known if Eddie was going to survive.
Twelve hours later Steve came down with a fever and found out Eddie was alive before he was locked up in his house for a week.
Steve rummaged through one of the boxes before his fingers fell on the spine of a book and tugged it lose. Shutting the closet behind him, he turned to find Eddie still glaring at him.
"You'll either fall asleep or become lucid enough to be bored." Steve set the book on the nightstand, beside a bottle of water.
Eddie only growled.
Steve crossed to his desk again, grabbing a tape off a short stack and pushing it into his tape player. A cough and a whir, then Queen was filling the room at a low enough volume to muffle Eddie should he start shouting down the stairs.
"I'll be back later," Steve told him, opening his bedroom door.
"I hate you, Steve." Eddie snarled, tugging on his handcuff again, glaring at him with empty eyes.
"Tell me again in the morning." Steve quirked a smile and slammed the door.
The kitchen was filled with quiet conversation when Steve finally made a reappearance. Mike and Robin were practically swallowing slices of pizza whole, while Nancy was picking off the toppings, eating them slowly.
"Holly?" Steve asked worriedly, earning himself a room full of attention.
"Asleep on the couch." Jonathan provided.
Steve nodded, then held up a finger and opened the door that led out to the garage. He let it shut behind him, ignoring the curious glances, and crossed to a corner of the garage. Only two boxes sat there, stuff that was ill-fitted for the hospital, and Steve opened one.
He rummaged through old basketball jerseys of his, and trophies before finding what he was looking for.
A teddy bear with a hotel logo on its belly from someplace his parents liked to stay in New York.
Steve had never been.
His dad had gotten the teddy bear for free when the front desk attendant discovered his dad had a son.
How she discovered that you may ask?
His dad had slept with her, and she had tried to leave early the next morning but not first without aiming to steal a few hundred bucks from his dad's wallet. Only to find one of Steve's old baseball card photos inside.
He was seven in the photo.
His dad had given him the teddy bear when Steve was sixteen-telling him the story with loud laughs, assuming Steve would find it equally as hilarious. 'She thought you were seven, Steve! I didn't have the heart to correct her.' He had laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder.
All Steve had gotten out of the exchange was a teddy bear and the answer to why his mom was in Italy shopping. She always went on a shopping spree when his dad cheated. It was his dad's way of saying sorry.
His mother didn't seem to care, because she didn't have to say sorry in return when she then went and slept with someone else.
Steve stepped back into the kitchen, teddy bear in hand, and held it up in explanation. Mike perked up at once, a surprised smile crossing his face.
"She'll love that. We didn't have time to grab much of her stuff, saving room for important stuff and all that." Mike explained, pointing to the kitchen island. Steve glanced over to see water jugs, canvas bags of food and supplies, and weapons. His mother would faint at the sight of a shotgun sitting next to a ceramic fruit bowl from Thailand.
"You can give it to her when she wakes up," Steve told him, handing the bear over that Mike took with a smile and a nod.
"Thanks, Steve," Nancy spoke softly.
"Anytime." Steve nodded, then cleared his throat. "I'll get some extra blankets out of the hall closet, and put them in the guest room. It's a trundle, so the bottom pulls out." Steve explained, before nodding his head and turning to hurry down the hall.
For twenty years this house had been empty. Only three Harringtons roaming the endless halls, and shag carpet bedrooms. Where decorations were to show off wealth, and not taste. Where coasters were used religiously, and the fruit bowl was never filled with fruit.
Twenty years Steve had walked quietly through his house. Fading in and out of rooms like a ghost. Treading, careful not to make a noise or leave a trace.
Now there were blood stains in his bathtub, his kitchen island was covered in weapons, and his house was filled with survivors.
But yet still, and just like the last twenty years, there was no happiness.
Only surviving.