Dustin’s crying so loud, Steve can barely hear when Eddie speaks, “trust me, Stevie?”
Eddie’s never called him that before. Eddie coughs again, bloody, and it spatters his lips and stains in between his teeth, mutely, Steve nods.
Eddie grabs Steve by the collar of his own denim jacket, pulling himself up and Steve down. He’s surprisingly strong considering Steve is absolutely certain that Eddie’s about to die. That’s what makes Steve close his eyes and open his mouth; lets Eddie have whatever he wants. Invites it when Eddie invades with a wet and bloody tongue. It’s a battle of a kiss, and Steve soaks it up.
Eddie disappears from under Steve’s hands, and he almost falls forward, Eddie disintegrating into a cloud of fiery ash. It settles, and in the middle, there’s an egg.
It’s shocking enough that Dustin stops crying, “what the fuuuuuck?” Dustin reaches for the egg, pulls his hand back, hissing, sucking his fingers.
Steve reaches for it next, “it’s too hot,” Dustin tries to warn him...but it isn’t. It’s pleasantly warm in Steve’s hand and he lifts it comfortably.
They have absolutely no fucking explanation for what the hell just happened. Steve, instinctively, refuses to put the egg down anywhere. He sits, staring at it, cataloguing the slightly speckled pattern, watching how it catches the light as he turns it in his palms, pale and diffuse in the lamplight of the lounge.
He doesn’t really like other people touching it, but allows Robin to brush it with her fingertips; she draws them back sharply, hissing, blisters already forming. He carries it with him, even going so far as to showering one handed so he can hold it. He curls around it that night in bed and isn’t even worried that he might accidentally break it; he knows he won’t.
They have a day to recuperate, the party all together again, and safe; Vecna is defeated.
Eddie has one living relative that everyone knows about; Wayne Munson. It’s the only possible place they may get some answers; the trailer is just...gone. They contact Hopper, who contacts Owens, and an hour later he calls Steve back. The trailer was impounded by Owens team to study the damage and now closed gate inside; Wayne Munson is in a Motel.
Everyone piles into the beemer.
Wayne looks sallow when he opens the door, distraught, but in a kind of worn in way. Like he’s already accepted it. No one speaks, they just watch as Steve produces the egg, cupped carefully in his hands. Wayne’s face crumples, his eyes well up, and he pulls Steve into a hug, “thank you. I thought I’d lost him, thank you.”
“Okay,” Steve replies, “but we have no idea what’s going on.”
Wayne shoos them into the room. There’s two doubles, Dustin, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan climb onto the still made bed; not the one that’s clearly been slept in. Wayne sits at the foot of his bed, Steve remains standing, carefully cradling the egg.
“He never told you what he is?”
Everyone on the bed is staring at Wayne wide eyed, Steve almost laughs at them, but he’s too busy shaking his head at Wayne.
Wayne nods, scratching his head, “so how long have you and my Eddie been seeing each other?”
Everyone on the bed turns to look at Steve instead, eyes, if anything, even wider, “we...aren’t. That’s not. We’re not…” The egg pulses hotly in Steve’s hands; for a brief moment, it’s unpleasant.
“You must be something, or you wouldn’t be able to touch his egg. Bound in blood?”
“There was blood, he was coughing up blood...when he was dying and he…”
“They kissed,” Dustin interjects, super unhelpful, “right before Eddie…” Dustin makes the form of an explosion with his hands, “you know, went poof.”
Wayne nods, “it’s enough, this time, for Eddie to come back. But if you don’t complete the bond, he won’t last long. Eddie must love you a hell of a lot.”
“Love me?” Steve asks weakly.
“Yeah,” Wayne says, “phoenix’s mate for life, and they won’t come back for anything less.”
There’s a long, drawn out silence, before Steve, finally offers a weak, “we hardly even know each other.”
“Eddie knows. A phoenix always knows. And you have to complete the bond, or he won’t be able to stay.”
“What?” Dustin asks, panicked, “what do you mean, stay?”
Wayne shrugs, “a phoenix, rejected by their mate, will burn up from the inside. He’ll wither and die unless Steve...reciprocates.”
Steve, weak limbed, just gives up and sits on the floor.
“What about you, Mr. Munson, are you a phoenix?” Dustin’s going to start in with fifty million questions. Steve’s kind of glad, gives him a moment to sit here and...stroke Eddie’s egg.
“Nah, I’m his dad’s brother. Him mom was the phoenix; that’s how she died. My brother wasn’t the best of guys and when he fucked it up...she died. Didn’t take long. Eddie’s a half breed, they can see it on sight, so the other phoenix, they rejected him. He’s been with me ever since. Not human enough to fit in here, not...good enough for them.”
Dustin looks affronted on Eddie’s behalf, “that’s not fair, Eddie’s a great guy. They’re...prejudiced, Eddie’s better off without them, anyway.”
Wayne hums agreeable, “they put a lot of stock in their feathers, what they look like. His mom knew at birth he’d never be accepted, but we had to try after she died. I’d hoped that they would take pity on him but...no. They said his colors were an ill omen.”
“What’s wrong with his colors? What colors? Eddie doesn’t even have feathers.”
“He will when he hatches, and they’ll be black as night.”
Steve figures it’s been around seventy nine ish hours when the first crack appears in the shell. He has no idea if there’s a significance to the amount of time, but he doesn’t interfere. He just turns the volume of the television down low and sits and watches, fascinated, as the crack widens and little, damp, black chick gets itself free. The inside of the shell shines like dark mother of pearl; like an oil slick.
Steve already knows he will hide the egg away and treasure it forever. He had sworn again and again to Dustin that the second Eddie showed signs of hatching, Steve would call him. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t. Something in him screamed loudly that it would be wrong. It would be so wrong for someone else to be here.
He decides to let them have one night together, just him and the tiny, feather light ball of blackness sitting on his thighs. He’ll call Dustin in the morning.
Steve tries to put Eddie down to go to the bathroom before bed; Eddie chirps miserably the whole time. He walks around on top of the comforter once Steve is in bed, and Steve watches in the lamplight as the tiny chick negotiates the mountains and valleys of Steve's bedding. He falls asleep finally, bored of exploring, nestled against the side of Steve’s neck.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just it was late and-”
“Yeah,” Steve replies. Nothing else to say really. Eddie seemed to have quadrupled in size overnight. He’s now the size of a chicken, covered in long, sleek black feathers. He has a long neck for his size, and his tail feathers sweep along the ground as he follows at Steve’s heels.
“Are you going to go and see Wayne?”
Eddie tilts his head at the sound of his uncles name, watching from his perch on the kitchen counter. Steve had tried him with a bowl of dry cereal, but Eddie had merely pecked at it a couple of times before ignoring it. Steve had added milk and eaten it himself.
“Nah,” Steve replies absently. The thought of leaving the house is...well. Steve doesn’t like it.
The next day, Eddie is the size of a very large turkey and his head, thanks to the long neck, can almost stretch to the height of Steve’s shoulder. When Steve sits on the couch, Eddie flaps up to sit on Steve’s lap, long neck winding around Steve’s, his head looping around to rest on Steve’s chest. His eyes are warm brown, just like Eddie’s human eyes, and Steve isn’t even a little worried about the huge talons or wickedly sharp beak.
On the seventh day, Steve wakes to find a man in his bed with him. He sighs with relief, pulling Eddie closer and whispering, “hello sweetheart,” into his fluffy hair.
Steve assumed they had time, he had hoped they could get to know each other; that Steve could do this properly, but by lunch Eddie is looking tired and has gray hairs at his temples so Steve simply says, “I love you, too,” over coffee and toast and hopes that it’s enough.
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
