Sometimes I see my face.. then I forget who I am. Put my mask on and relize, I'm Red-X.. this is a constant nightmare actually.

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Sometimes I see my face.. then I forget who I am. Put my mask on and relize, I'm Red-X.. this is a constant nightmare actually.

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Eddieās Memory Log: Day 72
part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here (ao3 link here)
Of course Steve is being realistic about this, he has no other choice. Thatās not true - he hasĀ infiniteĀ choices, which is the shitty yet amazing part about being a human with freewill.
But heās thoroughly convinced himself that he only hasĀ oneĀ choice: be cynically realistic. Pragmatic. Steve actually picked up a goddamn dictionary to figure out his feelings, and thatās the closest word he could find.
Heās gotta be pragmatic about Eddieās memories. If heās not, heāll fucking dissolve into broken shards of hopefulness like last time. It'll all burst out like heās pissed off, which is so unfair.Ā
But if he remains neutral, he wonāt get hurt. Right?
However, the kissing and the touching and the sweet words are all way too good for Steve to be a complete cynic. BecauseĀ god,Ā he wants all of that with Eddie.Ā ExclusivelyĀ with Eddie. He wants to know how Eddieās heart monitor will sound if he kisses that caved-in spot between his neck and his ear. He wants to know if itāll speed up or skip tones if he squeezes Eddieās thighs. His waist. His cheeks.Ā
Shit, Steve canāt stay pragmatic if heās thinking about exploring Eddie like a lickable atlas.Ā
He clenches his fists into his steering, holds onto the forgotten days. How miserable those days felt. How theyāll feel even worse if heās too optimistic.
Practical. Steve can do practical.
Eddie looks better than Steve remembers (which was fourteen fucking hours ago).Ā Still.Ā Heās pinker in his cheeks, in his nose too. His hair is combed out at the roots, still fuzzy and wild everywhere else. Almost like he gave up because the tangles were so bad.
Heās wearing one of the faded green hospital gowns today, the color of toothpaste. Steve likes it when he wears this one instead of the off-white ones. Those remind him of outdated nightgowns, the ones that porcelain china dolls wear.
Faded green is better. More life. Less death.
āAre you glued to the door or something?ā Eddie says a few secondsĀ afterĀ Steve turns the door shut. Still justĀ standingĀ there.
āNo.ā Steve doesnāt move.
Eddieās brows lower, forehead creasing. āGum stuck on your shoe?ā
āNo.ā
āWait, don't tell me - thereās a force field in this room, and onlyĀ youĀ can see it.ā Eddie points directly at Steve, wagging his finger at him. Steve inspectsĀ allĀ of his fingers on that hand, searching.Ā
No ring.
Steveās ring isnāt there. Not onĀ that hand, at least.
Eddie snaps twice. āVery Jean Grey of you, Stevie.ā
Steve exhales, rearranges the hair on his forehead. Heās tapping over his jeans, thinking up a better way to go about this. Quickly decides there is no Better Way. All Ways suck.
āMunson...ā
āHarringtonā¦ā
He still needs to see EddieāsĀ otherĀ hand, to lookĀ closer. Peer over the stupid bed covers and know for sure. āJust⦠give me a second.ā
āYouāre freaking me out, man.āĀ
āThat hurts coming from you.āĀ
āAs it should.ā They both go quiet after that.Ā
Itās definitely Steveās turn to take the conversational baton, but he canāt. Heās too focused on getting a good view of Eddieās hand without moving too close. If he gets too close, SteveĀ knowsĀ heāll be tempted to push him into the bed, connect his mouth to Eddieās and not stop until his lip muscles lose all mobility.Ā
Steve gets on his tippy toes, slanting his torso sideways to get a better view.
āWhat the hell are you looking at?ā Eddie tosses up both of his hands. Steve lasers in on every goddamn finger.
āNothing.ā Steve says. The ring isnāt there. āItās nothing.āĀ
Eddie isnāt wearing his class ring. Thatās all there is to it. No reason to get analytical or quiz Eddie on his foggy memories. Steve has his answer in plain sight.
Eddie doesnāt remember.
This is why Steve needed to remain pragmatic, that stupid word he looked up in the event that something like this might happen. Heās still disappointed, still actively working to keep up his decent posture and pleasant disposition.Ā
Fortunately, the cynicism helped. His foundationĀ isnātĀ fractured. His heartĀ isnātĀ skydiving without a parachute.
Steve is asĀ okayĀ as he can be knowing that Eddie Munson forgot about kissing him.
His legs are no longer cement blocks. Heās able to move away from the door just a bit. Moving around actually helps with the disappointment, heās not really sure why. Maybe itās because his neurons or whatever have multiple tasks to perform, not just allĀ obsessingĀ over the same fucked up feeling.Ā
Who knows, at least Steve is taking steps. Metaphorical and literal ones.
āHey.ā Eddie says.
āWhat?ā
Eddie tilts his head to the side, his eyes raking over Steveās whole body. āYou should lock the door.ā
āWhy?āĀ
Eddie shrugs. Steve catches a quick smirk before Eddie covers his mouth with his ringless hand.
āWhy,Ā Eddie?ā
Eddie shrugs again, and has the fucking gall toĀ laughĀ this time. He pulls out the guitar pick necklace thatās sitting underneath his hospital gown. Except the guitar pick is not the only charm hanging from the chain.
The ring.
Steveās class ring has been added to it.
His legs are locked once again. Deadbolted to the floor. Magnetized. Frozen. Whatever comic book bullshit Eddie mentioned earlier.
He canātĀ move.
āIf I remember correctly, you told me toĀ wear it.āĀ Eddieās voice turns lemony-sweet. Almost biting. āYou didnāt specify it needed to be on myĀ hand.ā
āYouāreā¦ā Steve is suddenly short of breath, seeing Eddieās thumb glide over the metal ofĀ hisĀ ring.āYouāre such an ass.āĀ Christ, he doesnāt believe how gone he sounds when he says it. Even amongst Eddie pulling this trickster douchery nonsense, heās still fuckingĀ weakĀ for him.
āThe door.ā Eddie punches out each syllable. āLock it.ā
Steve fumbles, stupidlyĀ fumblesĀ with the damn lock, takes centuries to get the shit to click properly. He can hear Eddie snickering, which sets him the fuckĀ off. Steveās suddenly next to the bed, resting one knee on the edge. Gets his hands wrapped up nicely in Eddieās hair.
Steve can feel Eddie mouthingĀ babyĀ into the kiss, makes him press into it more. All he wants is to feel that one word heating up his lips, pulsing sound-waves against his mouth. Steve lets his hand travel down to Eddieās chain, pulls once, causes Eddieās mouth to fall open. Steve does it again to see if itās a reflex or permission to kiss deeper, fuller.
Eddie hums, closes his mouth over Steveās bottom lip, lets the vibrations rumble there. He grips around Steveās hand, the one holding the necklace, and he squeezes them together.Ā
āYou remember?ā Steveās words come out choppy. Split up between breaths and Eddieās mouth over his own.
Eddie nods, can feel his eyelashes tickling Steveās cheek. āAll I could think about.ā
āMe too.ā Steve gives the necklace a tinyĀ yank. Eddieās hand jolts to Steveās waist, more delicious reflexes that Steve wishes he could chew on.
Steve leans away from the kiss, dipping down to the necklace instead. At first, he just places his teeth on the chain, letās his tongue feel the small grooves.Ā
But something possesses him to get weird. Let loose. So Steve sucks on both charms at once, makes too much sound, spit dribbling at the corners of his mouth. Heās fully testing the limits on Eddieās accessory-based reflexes and itās working so damn well.
Eddie gets a handful of Steveās thigh, gives him a firmĀ lift. Itās practically impossible to balance over the bed when Eddie doesĀ thatĀ maneuver. Steve starts toppling over, smushing Eddieās face, not sexy at all.
āCut it out.ā Steve whispers, trying to get back up. Trying harder not to laugh.
Eddie groans. āJust get on top of me already.ā
āYouāreĀ injured.ā
āAnd youāreĀ stillĀ not in my lap.ā
They transition back to kissing, Eddieās tongue flits around Steveās gums. Steve can feel the flicks in his fuckingĀ core, deep in the middle, all warm flashes that make his muscles tense up. Like the nerves are connected, like Eddie could alert his whole body toĀ gleamĀ under his touch.Ā
If it werenāt for this horrid hospital layout, Steve would have Eddie all over him. Tangle them up in unholy ways. Pray mercilessly that no one ever finds a key to unlock the door.Ā Goddamnit, this public respect thing is getting old.
āCanāt touch you how I want like this.ā Eddie nestles into Steveās neck, sucks on his skin till Steveās head falls back. Steve already can tell that itāll leave a mark from how sensitive it feels, raw and tingly.Ā
It only takes one more dig into his thigh for Steve to give up his Respectful Guy charade. Crawls into the bed, throws one leg over Eddieās side, sinks down into the spot.Ā Christ,Ā he can feel howĀ warmĀ Eddie is from here, and itās jostling up his mind. Steve can finally comprehend why every girl heās ever hooked up withĀ insistsĀ on making out like this. Itās a fucking recipe for sin.
āShit, this isā¦ā Steve claws his hands over Eddieās chest, over the gown. Hopes he doesnāt undo any wires or bandages.
Eddie grins. āDifferent view?ā
āYeah.ā
āYou like?ā
Steve gets lower, cages his arms around either side of Eddie. āLike the guy Iām looking down at.ā
āGood answer.ā
Kissing like this beats every other position that Steveās horned-up mind can think of. Itās all muted moans and wet lips. Eddieās still in his sweatpants from yesterday, thank every star in the sky for that. Steve can already feel how turned on he is, has to keep resisting the urge to hook his finger into Eddieās waistband. Mess around with the fabric until Eddie whines.
āSteve.āĀ
Just likeĀ that.
Eddie keeps targeting the bruise he made. Nurses at the skin like he could make new colors if he sucks hard enough. Maybe teeth-marks, maybe speckled blues. Fuck, Steve wantsĀ both. More.
āFeels so fucking good.ā It does, it really does. Steve canāt think about how dumb and slutty hickies are when it feels this good.
Eddie kisses over it, washes the sting away. āLike making you feel good.āĀ
Eddie is starting to smellĀ lessĀ like hospital disinfectant and more likeĀ Steve. Like Steveās bedroom and Steveās shower gel. Like Steveās laundry detergent and Steveās car freshener. God, Steve wants to roll his hips just a little harder, tongue him a little deeper. Get his hands on every inch of Eddie until they smell unrecognizable from one another.
āCan I?ā Eddie tugs on the hem of Steveās sweater, eyes fully blown, lips naturally pouting from all the kissing. This is how he shouldĀ alwaysĀ look, make a goddamn monument out of this adorably fucked-up expression.
āIāve got it.ā Steve straightens back up, peeling his sweater over his head, undershirt going with it. His hair is already tousled and ruined from Eddie combing through it so aggressively, he doesnāt even mind all the static making it worse.
Eddieās devilish smile drops to aĀ regularĀ smile, then disappears altogether. His hooded eyes are now wide, unblinking. His hands go straight to Steveās stomach, fingers splayed out completely.
āHolyĀ fuck, Steve.āĀ
It takes longer for it to register than it should. Steve has royally screwed up. Majorly. Eddie starts skimming over all of Steveās scars, the ones shaped exactly like his.Ā
Those distinct ones that Eddie doesnāt remember receiving. Believes whatever bullshit story the doctors told him when he woke up.
This is bad.
This is terribly bad.
Eddieās hands fall, returning back to his side. His voice soundsĀ flimsy. Small. āTheyāre just like mine.ā
āYeah.ā Steve agrees. Cause what the fuckĀ elseĀ would he do? āThey are.ā
āI wasnāt in a car crash⦠was I?ā
A car crash? Real original, very creative for a group of people that spent a decade of their life training their brain muscles to be the size of the Titanic. Bravo, geniuses.
Steve just shakes his head. Doesnāt let his bitterness show too much, upset Eddie further.
āFuckingĀ knew it.ā Eddie deflates back into his pillows, slamming his fist over the side railing. The sound makes Steveās shoulders jump, decides now would be a good time to un-straddle himself from Eddie. Sit in a chair like a non-horny person might do.Ā
āSo whatever happened to me⦠it happened to you too?ā
Steve canāt get the words out just yet, still giving Eddie non-verbal answers. Head nods, shoulder-shrugs, depressing looks away from his intense stares.
The room is way too quiet. Steveās silence is stifling. Even the empty spaces feel crowded.
āShit.ā Eddie must feel it too. The mysterious claustrophobia brought on by full disclosure. āWhat⦠whatĀ happenedto us?ā
Steve forces the words to come out this time. āYouāll never believe me.ā
āWell youāre in luck. Cause even if IĀ doĀ believe you, I might not even remember.ā
āThatās not funny.ā
āDidnāt say it was.ā
SteveĀ hatesĀ this. Hates that he caused this by being careless. Hates that itās his fault and he canāt blame it on anyone else.Ā
āFine.ā He shakes off the hatred because itās stupid and itās getting them nowhere. Just dead-end roads and abandoned streets. Steve gets somber instead. āThe door stays locked.ā
āIs it that bad?ā Eddie asks, straightening himself up in the bed.
āItās that bad.ā
āJesusĀ christ.ā
Yeah. Any explicit response is fitting for what Steve is about to attempt.
āExactly.ā
Steve is doing a shit job at explaining all this interdimensional monster fuckery. Having Dustin here as backup wouldāve been handy, especially since he gets all the DnD references that seem to further confuse Eddie.Ā
Like⦠Eddie is taking all the references way too literally to how he uses them in his complicated board game - they have to pause every time a new term comes up. Has to elaborate thatĀ āno, it isnāt the same as those scarily intricate drawings in your guidebook. Itās just whatever the twerps came up with on that day.ā
Honestly, Steve expects the subject matter to be the difficult part, not the skewed fantasy terminology. All the making out has shuffled Steveās brain, made him forget how strange Eddie is.
He kinda likes it though. Hell, heāsĀ fawningĀ over the strangeness.
Itās been almost two hours, Steve canāt believe heās gone over everything in such a short duration. Definitely missed some details, but whatever. Eddie gets the gist, thatās what matters.
āSoā¦ā Steve says.
āSoā¦ā Eddie copies.
āThoughts?ā
āI have them.ā
Steve rolls his eyes, crosses his arms. āDo you think Iām bullshitting you on any of this?ā
āIf you were Mike Wheeler, maybe.ā Eddie jokes. He jokes all the damn time, but Steve is fairly certain that this is one of those self-defense jokes. The side of his humor he wears as a shield. āI swear to god, that kid thinks up the craziest fucking scenarios. Almost scared to hand over the reins of Hellfire to a twisted mind like that.ā
He takes a minute, snorts at his own commentary, then unwinds. Settling down.
āButĀ youā¦ā Eddie says, pointing at Steve, staring hard. āWell, I donāt exactly think Steve Harrington,Ā Lord of Frenching,Ā would be able to conjure up such reveries with your particularĀ flavorĀ of imagination.ā
āThat sounds like an insult.ā
āMaybe.ā Eddie says. āBut if you were somehow both a total hottieĀ andĀ a total nerd, Iād be thoroughly wrecked.ā
Steve perks up, twirls a finger into Eddieās hair. āIād like to see that.ā
Eddie shoves him away,Ā definitelyĀ giggling. āThis is precisely what I mean! Trying to seduce meĀ right afterĀ telling me thereās another world directly beneath our feet. Youāre justā¦ā
āRidiculous?ā
āExceptional.ā
How can Steve feel this flattered after explaining the most traumatic timeline of events? HeāsĀ blushing, the kind of blush that girls would sit in front of their mirrors to apply perfectly, apply evenly - Steve is doing that kind of blushing, justĀ naturally. And yeah, he might have that effect on Eddie, but Eddie has the same effect on him.
They let the far-fetched truth resonate for a while. The silence is back gathering the space between them, but itās less suffocating this time. It feels valid.
Eddie shifts his weight in the bed, looks at a scar on the inside of his arm. āSo, I was almost a bat feast, huh?ā
Steve touches the scar in response. Hopes Eddie understands the confirmation.
Eddie sighs. āDid anyone else⦠did weĀ loseĀ anyone?ā
āVerdict is still out on that one.ā
āMissing?ā
āComa.ā
āOh.ā Eddie looks away. āFuck, Iām sorry.ā
āYeah.ā Steve is sorry too. Shouldāve been him.
āSomeone I know?āĀ
āShe was your neighbor, so probably.ā
Eddie looks down at his lap, eyebrows knitted together. His go-to frustration face.
Right.
Eddie doesnāt remember where he lives.
āHer and Sinclair used to date.ā Steve tells him. āHeās with her right now, actually.ā
āSheās here?ā
Steve sings an āmhmmāĀ through closed lips.
Thinking about Max never gets easier. She basically sacrificed herself and Steve just let her do it. He let a fucking child convince him that they had no other choice. Of course they had other choices.Ā
InfiniteĀ choices. The shitty yet amazing part about being a human with freewill.
It shouldāve been him. That shouldāve been the choice.
āCan we go visit with her?ā Eddie interrupts Steveās intrusive thoughts, probably for the best. āWould that be weird?ā
Steve studies Eddieās expression for a minute. Itās uneasy, distressed. Just plainĀ sad. All of that is more than understandable. This is heavy shit.Ā
āNot weird.ā Steve gets up. āThink itād be pretty nice actually.ā
Eddie waits outside Maxās door while Steve heads in first. Just checking to make sure Lucas is cool with them covering his shift for a little while.Ā
Steve gives a few taps over the door before peaking in. āJust me, Sinclair.ā
āGood to see you, man.ā Lucas looks up from his book. Heās been reading Max the wholeĀ The Dark TowerĀ series to her since July. She has an undying love for Stephen King, theyāre all pretty optimistic she can hear powerful words - and all of hisĀ are.
āHeya, Mayfield.ā Steve lays a hand on her shoulder, rubs his thumb back and forth. āAll the other losers at the skate park are gonna be so jealous of you. Youāll have the sickest scars there, no competition.ā
āSteve.ā
āWhat? She agrees.ā
They all refuse to whisper around her or talk about her in the past tense. Like sheās not even there. Like sheās already gone.
Sheās not. Sheās in there somewhere, Steve just knows it. If Eddie can come back, so can she. Max is a goddamn powerhouse.Ā
āHowās Eddie doing?ā
āHeās⦠you know.ā Steve instinctively rubs the purplish-gray bruise on neck, face prickling up. āHeās good.ā
The best, actually.
āGlad to hear it.ā
āHeās here, by the way.ā Steve sneaks that in there. āWanted to visit with our girl, if thatās cool.ā
Lucas does a double take. āWait - heĀ remembers?ā
Surprise, surprise. Steve opens his big, fat (pretty) mouth for a second time today. āNo, no⦠I told him.ā Way to go, dumbass.Ā
āSteve!ā
āHey! He saw my scars.ā Steve matches volume. āI had no choice!ā
āHow exactly did he see your scars?ā
Damn damn damn.Ā āThatāsā¦not⦠never mind.ā Steve is stumbling, the words are all scrunched together, total nonsense in his throat. āItās sort of irrelevant now. He knows. And heāsĀ here,Ā soā¦ā
Lucas sighs, gives Steve a good olā fashioned Eye Roll, and looks over towards Max. āGuess I should take a lunch break anyways. Iāll be back in a half hour.ā
Steve nods, pulls a chair right up next to Max. Sheās in better condition than she was after her last surgery. Less gaunt. Sure, thereās no major changes, but still. None of them are giving up on her. Sheād kicked their asses in whatever afterlife that may exist.
Lucas drops a kiss into Maxās hair, whispers something in her ear. Steve does his best not to eavesdrop, doesnāt seem like itās any of his business. Lucas gives Steve a pat on the back and sighs again. The two of them are in this place the most, Steve completely relates to how draining the atmosphere can be. Exasperation is so warranted.
āSend Eddie in on your way out.ā Steve says.
āWill do.ā
Lucas and Eddie chat outside for a while, so Steve takes the opportunity to catch up with Max, keeps his hand on her forearm the whole time. He tells her about Eddie, how he likes him.Ā ReallyĀ likes him. Knows she wouldnāt give a shit about something like that, about liking guys. Sheād probably make fun of him for making a lame ass mixtape though. So he tells her about that too - lets her imagine how nauseating he can get when he crushes this hard on someone.
He tells her that everyone misses her, Mike included, even if heād never say it out loud.
āHeāsĀ alwaysĀ buying new stickers for your casts.ā Steve says it like itās the juiciest gossip. āTries to convince us that Lucas asked him to. The kidās a shitty liar though, but you already know that.ā
Her heart monitor is nothing like Eddieās. Itās a dull pattern, never changing. Thereās no ballad or pop song fragments. No song at all.Ā
Steve tries not to dwell on how much that hurts, leaves splinters in his chest.
The door squeaks and Eddie slides in. He seems kind of nervous, anxious maybe. But he meets Steveās reassuring gaze and lets go.Ā Smiles. All the splinters in Steveās chest turn into petals. He loves how happy he can make Eddie, just by looking at him. That feels genuine and rare.Ā Veryrare.
Steve signals his head towards Max, needs Eddie to greet her properly. Present tense, no whispers.
Eddie looks back at Max, takes two steps forward. āUmā¦ā
āSomething wrong?ā
āRemember when I told you I have crazy, vivid dreams?ā
āYeah?ā
āWellā¦ā Eddie scratches the top of his head. Looks at Steve in disbelief. āSheās in almostĀ all of them.ā
Shit. āAre you serious?ā
āLittle MissĀ Charlie McGee.ā Eddie sings, arms waving toward her. āIn the flesh.ā
Steveās voice goes flat. āThatās not her name.ā
āBe cool, babe. She gets the reference.ā
Eddie quickly picks up on their Max Etiquette. He approaches her like theyāre old friends, shows off his visible battle scars, makes her feel included. Steve is captivated by Eddieās ease, his summery energy he develops with her.
āSo you two talk?ā
Eddie waves him off. āIĀ talk. She justā¦ā
āRight.ā Steve assumes the answers. Finally wraps his head around what Eddie is telling him, that he dreams about Max,Ā often. āStill - this is huge. Like⦠this is a big fucking deal!ā
āMellow your vibes, please.ā
āSays the mostĀ un-mellow person I know.ā
Eddie shushes him, gives his full attention to Max. āWe gotta get you out here, McGee. If I had known you werenāt just my little dream angel, I wouldāve busted you out of this jointĀ monthsĀ ago.ā
Heās so fucking great with her, so normal about all of this. Within a few hours, Steve has turned Eddieās perspective on life inside-out, yet heās still so attentive. Totally adopting Steveās patience and gladly offering to Max, the person who needs it most right now.
Steve steals a quick kiss onto Eddieās cheek, sort of misses and pecks his chin instead.
Eddie bites his lip, scolds Steve halfheartedly. āNo kissing in front of Little Red.ā
Max would definitely deck him for calling herĀ little.
Steve kisses Eddieās cheek again, doesnāt miss this time. āJust⦠really like you.ā
āLike you too, Stevie. Could bake you into a pie, save you for dessert.ā
āBarf.ā
āUh huh - get used to it.ā Eddie hugs Steve from behind, sways them back and forth like a cheesy prom dance. āItās gonna get so muchĀ worse. Red is probablyĀ soĀ sick of me yapping her ear off about you.āĀ
Steve twists his neck around to look at Eddie. āSo⦠sheĀ knows?ā
Eddie nods, scratches the back of his neck. āI donāt ever shut up about you.ā
āCouldāve ended the sentence withĀ I donāt ever shut up, and it would still be accurate.āĀ
āFeisty.ā
Steve looks towards Max. He smiles, thinks about how sheād tell them theyāre both total dipshits before doing a kickass flip on her skateboard. āShe brings out the best in me.ā
They fill Lucas in on the fact that Eddie dreams about Max almost every night. Of course, Lucas wants as many details as Eddieās mangled mind can give him.
The dreams are simple: a dark room, almost pitch black. Max is sitting cross-legged in the center, staring directly at Eddie. She doesnāt say anything, doesnāt stand up either. But if Eddie talks, sheāll non-verbally respond in some type of way.
For instance, Eddie says he told her his top five favorite movies of all time. She stared at him blankly until he got to number four:Ā Firestarter. She smiled. He says it was brief, but it was the first time he discovered that she was listening to him. Understanding him.
āHence the name -ā
āCharlie McGee.ā Lucas chuckles, getting the reference. Steve doesnāt - pretty sure he was necking Sydney Sawyer for the whole duration of that film.
Theyāre all sitting in the stairwell outside of Maxās room. No point in discussing this in there, upsetting her with their schemes and impractical theories. No one has concrete answers, not even the doctors. Why should three losers be an exception to this?
Pointless as it may be, they continue to brainstorm.Ā
āAny new Kate Bush albums?ā Steve asks.
Lucas shuffles back and forth. āWe have the stereo playing all the time in there. I think that wouldāve woken her upĀ monthsĀ agoĀ if it were that easy.ā
Thereās another long pause. A few sighs ripple out, echo.
āEddie?ā Lucas says.
āYeah?ā
āRemember that character you came up with in your last campaign?ā Lucasā energy changes, fills the corridor theyāre standing in.
Eddieās mouth opens, then shuts.Ā
Steve has to tackle back the urge to remind Lucas that Eddie struggles with recent memories like that. Heās an expert on All Things Eddie, but thatās not exactly something he should flaunt right now. Steve knows how to read the room for christās sake.
Lucas faces Eddie, seems determined. āCome on, man. It wasĀ soĀ badass.ā
āI donāt doubt it.ā
āThe oracleās assistantā¦ā Lucas nudges eagerly. āRing any bells?ā
Eddie sheepishly looks away, looks at Steve for support maybe. He should know better, Steve isnāt going to be helpful with nerd shit. But Steve elbows Eddieās side, gives him a weak smile. Just a subtle bit of encouragement.
They both glance over to Lucas who is deep in the thought, mumbling to himself.
āThey relinquish all their autonomy while the sun hangs in the skyā¦ā Lucas recites. Steve thinks heās imitating Eddieās narrator voice. Itās not too bad, actually. āBut when darkness falls and their eyes grow heavy with sleepā¦ā
āThe lowly assistant governs the slumber of their ruler.ā Eddie finishes the phrase with a wolfish grin. āSinclair, youāre a certified genius!ā
āYou came up with it.ā Lucas pats Eddie's shoulder, grinning just as wide. āDo you think itāll work?ā
āItās worth a shot.ā
āDo you even know how to -ā
āNot really.ā Eddie squints, contemplating. āBut how hard can it be?ā
āDunno. Never tried it.ā
Steve finally cuts into their little exchange. āWould either of you care to translate your dweeb-ology to me?ā
Both Lucas and Eddie stop murmuring to each other andĀ gawkĀ at Steve. Theyāre not laughing at him, not yet at least. More so, theyāre staring as if they somehow forgot Steve was evenĀ there. Like their board game bullshit sucked them onto their own nerdy planet, far from Earth.
Eddie places a hand on Steveās cheek, still wearing that performance smile he gets when his fantasy lingo takes hold of him. Steve is fully aware that it doesnāt look sexy, the way Eddie does it, but his breath still gets caught in his chest at the contact.Ā
āMy dear, sweet Stevie.ā Eddie sings, sounds sinister. He playfully smacks Steveās cheek a few times before removing his hand. āHave you ever of aĀ lucid dream?ā
Steve scrunches his nose. āSounds gross.ā
Eddie: Nope - your mind is just filthy.
Steve: Least my mind worksā¦
Eddie: For a harlot, sure.
Steve: A what?
Eddie: Nothing.
Theyāre about to continue their bickering when Lucas clears his throat. Gives each of them a disturbed expression. āYou two sound like my parents.ā
Steve and Eddie bothĀ gagĀ at the implication, denyingĀ anyĀ resemblance to fuckingĀ grownups. No way. They may not be in high school anymore, but theyāreĀ definitelyĀ not adults. Theyāre both trapped in that state of maturity limbo, where age is merely a suggestion, not a law. Sort of like Steve with speed limit signs.
āWhatever.ā Lucas heads for the door. āIāll go keep Max company while you fill Steve in on the plan.ā
āYou got it, Sinclair.ā Eddie gives Lucas a stern salute as he leaves the stairwell.
As soon as the door shuts, Steve's hands are all over Eddie. Pulling the drawstring of sweatpants closer to him, curling his fingers at the back of his neck. He can hear Eddie make a surprised noise, but doesnāt dwell on it. Just presses him into the wall, kisses him hard. Steve tries to kiss quietly, minimal lip smacking, but Eddie heaves into his mouth and Steve loses all of his control.
āDistracted?āĀ
Steve mumbles something like,Ā āso hot,āĀ but his lips can only do so many tasks at once. Right now, heās way too preoccupied with running his tongue over the ridges of Eddieās teeth, tempting him to bare down.Ā
Eddie gives into the temptation tooĀ easily, grazes his front teeth over Steveās tongue, Steveās bottom lip, SteveāsĀ jaw. Goddamnit, the dull pricks of teeth turn Steveās insides intoĀ custard. So fucking decadent and absolute mush.
āWas it my Dungeon Master voice?ā Eddie sneers, pulling down the collar on Steveās shirt to lick over the bruise he placed there earlier today. āDid that get you all horned up for me?ā
āDo you ever stop talking?ā Which is a backwards way of sayingĀ yes. One thousand percentĀ yes. FuckingĀ christ, who knew Eddieās gravelly narrator voice would be borderline audio porn for Steve?
Eddie swirls over the bruise again, then leans back into a slobbery open-mouthed kiss, real messy and wet. His hands slip into Steveās jean back pockets, cupping his ass, makes his knees lock.
āWish you werenāt in such a bulky material, darling boy.ā Eddie usesĀ thatĀ voice. His nails dig into the scratchy fabric, so many dirty noises bouncing off the walls. Eddie isnāt even asking Steve to take off his clothes, but he doesnāt have to. The voice, the desires, itās all there. All heavy and whirling in Steveās mind.
āOhĀ okayĀ fuck,ā Steveās words all sound whimpery now, almostĀ depraved. He sinks into one more kiss. Makes it last, makes itĀ sting. Finds the willpower to create aĀ non-ass-cupping distance between them.Ā
Eddie wipes his mouth with the back in his hand and smirks. He tilts his head up at Steveās hair, which Steve already knows is proabably fucked up. Heās always teetering on a stylized sex hair look, so itās gotta be wet dream worthy right now. Steve smooths out the sides, minimal effort to look presentable, and Eddie just spectates. Enjoys the show that is Rattled Steve Harrington.
āYouāve got a freaky side.ā Eddie says, way too vile.Ā
Steve keeps flattening out strands on his head, ignoring the heat settling into his cheeks. Ignoring Eddieās comment too. āJust tell me about the gross dream thing.ā
āFine.ā Eddie plops down on the top step of the stairs. āTake a seat, fellow freak.ā
Turns out, itās not gross at all. Itās actually kind of cool.Ā ReallyĀ cool.
From Steveās understanding (and Eddieās elaborate explanation), lucid dreams are kind of like directed dreams. Like the individual whoās experiencing them can actually decide their own actions. Change outcomes and shit. If Steve had known that was an actual ability, he wouldāve done things aĀ lotĀ differently in that dream he had about getting snowed in at the Playboy Mansion.
Okay⦠maybe SteveĀ isĀ the one thatās making it gross.
āSo, youāre gonna lucid dream tonight?ā
āIām gonnaĀ try.Ā TryĀ being the keyword because I donāt think itāll be that easy.ā
āSam will be back on Monday.ā Steve reminds him. āWe could see if she knows anything about it.ā
Eddie clicks his teeth, nodding along. āThatās not a bad idea, Harrington. That woman is aĀ wealthĀ of knowledge.ā
āIf she runs for president, Iām endorsing the shit out of her.ā
āOh,Ā absolutely.ā
They head back to Eddieās room, writing down anything that seems helpful or significant to their plan. Steve leaves a bit early to beat traffic. Itās not ideal, heād rather stay the night.Ā
Leaving Eddie is tough, gets tougher every time. Steve makes him put the ring back in the drawer, just in case he forgets. Canāt take any chances.
āHow could IĀ ever?ā Eddie circles his thumb around Steveās palm. Traces small shapes into his skin.
Steve shrugs. āJust to be safe.ā
āOkay.ā
āButā¦Ā donāt.ā The wordĀ forgetĀ stays unsaid. It already holds too much power amongst them. No reason to give it more fuel, more gravity.
Eddie brings Steveās palm up to his lips, kisses away all the invisible patterns he put there. āI wonāt.ā
Itās not a promise, they know better than to promise things that are radio static. Fuzzy and unclear. Mental fog. Even so, Steve lets those two words fuse his broken expectations back together.
Just until morning.
Thatās all he needs.
Day 73:
The phone is ringing. Itās four in the fucking morning and the phone is ringing.
Steve decides after the third time that heās not answering - out of spite.
But then it rings two more times and he cracks. Swears every curse word he knows walking over to the phone, invents some new ones too. His eyes still refuse to open, heās blindly picking it up off the hook.
āWho is it?ā He whisper-yells. Thatās the only volume his voice has at four in the fucking morning.
Thereās an obnoxiousĀ kissy soundĀ coming through on the speaker.Ā
āDamnit, Munson.ā
āDonāt be rude, you love it when I tease.ā
āI donāt loveĀ anythingĀ at four in the morning except the inside of my eyelids.ā
āOuchie.ā He can tell Eddie is pouting into the speaker. Can practicallyĀ hearĀ his lips pushing out, being a real dick about it.
Steve yawns. āIs this important? Did the dream thing workā
āWouldnāt know. Canāt sleep.ā
āAnd how am I supposed to help?ā Steve gets to be a dick too if he has to form coherent thoughts at four in the fucking morning.
āBedtime story? Lullaby? Dirty limerick?ā Eddie suggests, sounds totally wired. āIām not picky.ā
Ugh. Steve is such a pushover in general. But for Eddie Munson? Heās a lovesickĀ fool.Ā āI can stay on the phone and you can listen to me snore. Final offer.ā
āSure, Iāll take it.ā He hears Eddie clapping. āBut at least tell me what youāre wearing.ā
āYouāre joking.ā
āMost of the time,Ā yes. I am.ā Eddie says. He waits for an answer that he does not receive becauseĀ fuck, why would Steve talk dirty right now? Eddie fake-coughs into the speaker, puts on the most pathetic voice. āJust give aĀ dying manĀ some x-rated visuals and Iāll shut up.ā
āGood god, youāre notĀ dying.ā
Now Eddie is fake-cryingĀ because of course he is. Such a drama queen. As soon as they get his memory back, Steve is getting him a goddamn talent agent. Let him win a few awards for his untimely performances.
āRed pajamas bottoms.ā Steve gives in. Classic pushover style.Ā
āNo shirt?ā
āNo.ā
āFuck.ā
Steve laughs, canāt help it. āThought you said youād be quiet now.ā
āIt was an involuntaryĀ fuck, I promise.ā
āWhatever you say, babe.ā
He falls asleep hearing Eddie hum the last track on his mixtape that he made for him. The one thatās always at the top of his stack.
Thereās no visual torture from Eddie today. The necklace is in plain sight, Steveās class ring sitting directly over top of Eddie's guitar pick. No need to make assumptions or compose his cauldron of feelings.Ā
Nope. Eddie remembers. Eddie likes him and didnāt forget. Steve could toss the binder of progress into the dumpster, let it live out the rest of its days in a goddamnĀ landfillĀ for all he cares.
Heās not gonna do that though because heās nowhere near Eddie Munson on the Dramatics Scale.
They spend the early part of the afternoon working through questions that Eddie can try to ask Max in his dream. It keeps them busy while they wait for Sam to arrive on her shift. Steve picked up quite a few packets of gum at the gas station - both to sweeten their request and replenish her supply.
Eddie is pretty exhausted from not sleeping much during the night. Anytime Steve fiddles with the mismatched necklace charms, Eddie answers him with languid, plush kisses. The slowest, most mindless kind - the type of kisses that makes Steve feel as if theyāve been kissing each other for years, not days.
āYouāreĀ scrumptious.ā Eddie praises, his tone is all tipsy from the affection.
āYouāre heavily medicated.āĀ
Theyāre pretty disgusting today, probably from all the happiness that breeds gross shit. Steve is whirling strands of Eddieās hair, watching it stay curled. Eddie is tickling Steve in inappropriate areas. A fuckton of tongue-kissing.
So gross.
āStay tonight?ā Eddie says randomly.
Steve uncurls Eddieās hair from his finger, thinking over the request. āWhat if I mess up the lucid dream process?ā
āSweetheart, you are a messĀ repellant. You dust away all the bad shit and make things shiny and clear.ā
āCanāt clean your messy memories though.ā Steve points out.
Eddie purses his lips. āYeah well, thatās asking for a miracle.ā
āI guess so.ā
āI know so.ā
āYou and MaxĀ deserveĀ miracle-level results though.ā
āSee what I mean?ā Eddie peppers kisses into Steveās hair. āScrumptious.ā
Unlike Steve, SamĀ isĀ a miracle worker. Anytime thereās a lull in her shift, she sits with the two of them, discussing the mechanics of lucid dreaming. Tells them how she did sleep studies during her last two semesters of college.
āLucky for you, some of the medications youāre on, calm your mind to begin with.ā Sam explains. āThat helps with your long term memories, but itĀ alsoĀ eases your mind in general - sleep included.ā
āLike a muscle relaxer for his brain?ā Steve chimes in.
āEssentially.ā Sam says. āThis should make the lucid dream process fairly easy for you. Your mind is already open to new perceptions.ā
āIĀ doĀ sometimes feel like Iām steering the actions in these dreams.ā Eddie agrees. āIt sort of feels second nature to me.ā
That checks out. Steve grabs the binder, shows Sam a few notes he took on the first day:
āIt doesnāt take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.ā
She scans over the words a few more times before speaking again. āYouād be surprised. A lot of head trauma patients that take a cocktail of treatments say the same exact thing. They describe it as the dream world being easier to navigate than the waking world. Less pressure to meet societal standards.ā
Sam gives a few more tips while she goes through Eddieās nighttime medication routine. Most of them have to do with Eddie checking in with his surroundings, noticing differences or passage of time, things like that. They could potentially wake him up during his REM cycle, but she sort of doubts that theyāll need to do that. Her assurance seems to rub off on Eddie. Steve is fucking grateful for that.
āShould I leave?ā Steve gets up, noticing the time. Visiting hours are about to end. āI mean⦠Will I be a distraction?ā
Sam doesnāt look up from her chart, just motions towards Eddie. āDoes Steve bring you comfort or stress?ā
āComfort.ā Eddie answers fast, noticeably red. āDefinitely comfort.ā
She clicks her pen, looks up at Steve, and smiles. āThen he can stay.ā
Eddie spends over an hour constructing a solid argument as to why Steve should sleep in the hospital bed with him. He even includes a thesis statement and a variety of credible sources (if one considersĀ Nightmare on Elm StreetĀ to be a credible source).Ā
āWhat if a doctor walks in and sees two dudes cuddling like teddy bears? What the hell do we say?ā
āWe tell them itās for science. Duh.ā Eddie folds the blanket back, pats the spot next to him. āBesides, theyāre fuckingĀ surgeons, Stevie. Iām sure theyāve seen weirder shit.ā
āValid point.ā
After an excessive amount of maneuvering and soft-pretzeling their limbs together, Steve is in Eddieās hospital bed, under the covers. He places a few chaste kisses onto the back of Eddieās neck before sinking into the cushion of their shared-pillow.
āHey, Steve.ā
āYeah?ā
āDid you ever think this would happen?ā
āDid I ever think I would be spooning a guy with a memory-deficient brain and plotting a way to wake up a girl who survived an unsurvivable death?ā Steve squeezes the two of them together. Lets the rhetoric of his question oscillate along with the shitty fan in the corner of the room. He can feel Eddie laughing against his chest and it makes him squeeze harder. āYes. This isĀ exactlyĀ where I thought my life would take me. Thank you for asking.ā
āSmartassery and pillowtalk.ā Eddie smacks Steveās hand thatās wrapped around his stomach. āIām a lucky guy.ā
Steve thinksĀ heāsĀ the lucky one. Heās earned the trust of someone that has every reason to resent the whole world. He has a second chance to get to know someone that shouldnāt even be alive. Steve is the luckiest idiot inĀ thisĀ dimension and every fuckstorm alternate dimension that may exist out there.
The beeps on Eddieās heart monitor are slowing down. Steve knows what that means, itās his second most fluent language these days. Eddie is drifting off, almost asleep.
āBout gone?ā Steve keeps his voice hushed, barely audible.Ā
Eddie hums a grumply,Ā āmhmmāĀ and moves Steveās hand over his heart. No need to listen to the monitor now.Ā
This is it. This is their chance to make a difference, reverse the injustice. Be heroes.
āGo find our girl, Munson.ā
āYou got it, babe.ā
Day 74:
This is the best night of sleep Steve has had since⦠well, since that reality-shattering night back in 1983. Nancy Wheeler cocking a gun at a goddamn creature and spitting in the face of cowardice. Sleep hasnāt been the same since then.
So to sleep throughout the whole night, not jolting awake, notĀ once. Thatās an outrightĀ winĀ for Steve fucking Harrington.
Eddie sleeps longer, more soundly too. Thatās nothing new, he always sleeps like this - since day one of the memory log that Steve started keeping, but stoppedĀ needing. Stopped relying on it.Ā
His brain has made extra space, exclusive storage, just for Eddie. Itās weird to reflect on, but thatās a common thing Steve has done when he falls for someone. He automatically creates a penthouse for all of their quirks andĀ ismsĀ to reside comfortably in. Live luxuriously inside his fucked-up head.
Itās around eight in the morning by the time Eddie starts stirring, scooting in closer to Steveās touch. Fucking hell, it makes he feel wanted. Important.Ā
Eddie slowly flips around to face Steve, twisting himself up in all his tubes. Doesnāt matter. Steve is certain that Eddie knows by now that he will untangle him without making it weird - no arm scribbles necessary. Theyāre beyond that.
āMorning, demonic tinker bell.ā
āI remember that.ā Eddie is still groggy. āI rememberĀ you.ā
Itāll never get old hearing him say that. āWouldāve been so fucking awkward if you didnāt.ā
Steveās lips are all chapped from sleeping with his mouth open, but he kisses Eddie anyways. Honestly, Eddie doesnāt seem to care. Might be too sleepy to notice.
Heās lost a lot of weight, being on a hospital diet and throwing up all the damn time. Even so, Eddie looks doughy and sweet in the morning. Steve wants to squish his drowsy little face, smush his nose, honk it like a car horn.
They kiss a little longer before the anticipation becomes too much. SteveĀ hasĀ to know what happened in Eddieās dream. āSo⦠any luck?āĀ
āAre you a gambling man?ā Eddie asks through a yawn. āCause if so, then yeah.ā
āHoly shit,Ā really?ā Steve starts shaking Eddieās shoulder. āDid she tell you what might help wake her up?ā
āShe didnātĀ speak, but she was holding something this time.āĀ
āHolding what?ā
āThink it wasĀ Corduroy.ā
āThe material?ā
āTheĀ bear. You know, the childrenās book?ā
No, Steve doesnāt know that childrenās book. While most of the kid's parents were readingĀ Little Golden Books,Ā Steveās nanny was reading him excerpts from her murder-mystery novels. Although, his dad didĀ occasionallyĀ hand Steve the comics out of the morning newspaper. Whenever he was around, that is.
āI asked if the bear was hers and if she still has it.ā Eddie pokes Steveās cheek. āAnd she noddedĀ yesĀ to both. Thatās a start, right?ā
āDefinitelyĀ a start. Itās gotta be.ā Steve sits up in the bed, stretches and cracks every fucking bone in his back. āIāll go grab us some coffee and fill Lucas in once he gets here.ā
Eddie gives him a thumbs-up, reaches onto the desk for his walkman.Ā SteveāsĀ walkman.
Nah. Who is he kidding? Heād put a goddamn bow on it. Heād let Eddie keep it forever.
Itās Eddieās walkman now.
Lucas heads to Eddieās room once he arrives. They drink their coffees while Eddie fills him in on the dream updates. Itās nice to see Lucas all perked-up again, heās been pretty dejected for several months now. Even if theyāre just clinging to scraps of hope, itās better than grasping atĀ maybesĀ andĀ question marks.Ā Thatās all theyāve been doing up until now.
āIāve seen it.ā Lucas says. āGreen overalls? Ripped arm thatās missing all of its stuffing?ā
Eddie hums into his coffee cup. āLooks like she sewed it back together with yellow threads?ā
āThatās the one.ā Lucas confirms. āItās in her bedroom - she keeps it in a box of stuff from her grandma.ā
He fills Steve and Eddie in about her grandma, how she took Max in during the worst part of her parentās separation. Whenever the fights were unbearable, sheād take Max to the park for some fresh air. Lucas says heās pretty sure that she bought Max her first skateboard. The bear must be a gift from her too, must be pretty meaningful.
āDo you think you can get it?ā Steve wonders, looking towards Lucas.
āFor sure, Iāll drop by tonight after I leave.ā
āWait.ā Eddie interrupts their order of business, wildly waving his hand. āWhen isĀ McGeeāsĀ birthday?ā
āNovember 6th.ā Lucas answers.
Steve checks the weekly calendar on the wall, the one used to track Eddieās medical schedule. āThatās three days from today.ā
āDo it then.ā Eddie demands.Ā
āWhy?ā Steve and Lucas say it at the same time.Ā
āThe song.ā Eddie begins to hum the tune ofĀ happy birthday, conducting himself along with his index finger. āIt was very quiet, but I heard it during the whole entire dream.ā
Lucas has a skeptical look on his face. āSo, you think we shouldā¦Ā wait?ā
āItās a gut feeling.ā
Lucas huffs, seems apprehensive about this idea. Heās been incredibly patient, more patient than Steve on his best days. But even the most tolerant individuals have boiling points. This might be his.
So Steve tries to intervene, uses his coach voice for good measure. āIf Eddie says wait, then we wait.ā
And thatās exactly what they do.Ā
They wait.
Day 76:
Itās the day before Maxās birthday. Steve hasnāt really left the hospital since Monday, too busy checking in on her and keeping Eddie stress-free, just in case he needs to lucid dream again. Theyāre doing that Inseparable Thing - that obnoxious clingy shit that lovesick people do. Is that what Steveās experiencing? Lovesickness? Ugh, he needs to ask Sam if she can write a prescription for him - get the gooey feelings under control or whatever.
Lucas arrives with a box, probably the one he mentioned to them a couple days ago. Carefully, he pulls out a raggedy teddy bear.
āThatās the one!ā Eddie almost chokes on his potato soup from the excitement. āThatās the bear from the dream!ā
āItās⦠falling apart.ā Steve makes an unpleasant face.
āItāsĀ well loved.ā Lucas corrects him. āClearly, this means a lot to Max.ā
Steve gets up, starts pacing the room with a pestering thought. āRemember what El told us? About happy memories being stronger than the hateful ones?ā
āGeorge Lucas would eat that shit up.ā Eddie replies.The name sounds familiar, but Steve doesnāt catch on. āI mean,Ā come on.Ā Thatās very Dark Side versus The Force.ā
Lucas high-fives Eddie. āDude, youāreĀ soĀ right.ā
āThis is a Star Wars thing, right?āĀ
They both look at Steve like he just murdered their silly little nerd vibes.
āIām gonna pretend like he just didnāt refer to Star Wars as aĀ thing.ā Eddie shudders. Lucas joins him the theatrics.
Steve rolls his eyes, recalls Eddieās reaction to his dice collection. āLet me guess: itās not aĀ thing, Star Wars isĀ phenomenon.ā
āPretty boy catches onĀ fast.ā Eddie winks, gives Steve a dark look that makes him think theyāre gonna be up to some fairly vulgar stuff later.
āSteve might be onto somethingā¦ā Lucas admits. Honestly, why is it so hard for people to admit that Steve has good ideas sometimes? āMaybe what she used against Vecna the first timeĀ wasnātĀ her happiest memory.āĀ
Steve studies the bear, examines its matted fur and the questionable stains on its overalls. Max mustāve had this for a long time, considering all the wear and tear. āMaybeĀ thisĀ is connected to her happiest memory.ā
Lucas nods. āShe probably repressed a lot of her childhood, there was too much crazy bullshit going on with her family splitting up.āĀ
Eddie sighs, they both look up at his thoughtful expression. Deep, comtemplative eyes. āI bet some of her good memories may have been shoved aside with all of the bad memories she tries to avoid.āĀ
Of courseĀ Eddie can relate to memories getting shoved aside, hidden away whether he likes it or not. Thereās pieces to this scenario that each one of them can link to their own past. Itās not surprising, but then again, not much surprises Steve anymore.Ā
He learned early on with all of this monster fuckery that the phraseĀ common ground,Ā gained its notoriety for a reason. Itās much more common than anyone thinks. Finding it, even amongst a group of clashing personalities, is easy.Ā
Common.
Lucas hides in Eddieās room in order to stay past visiting hours. They plan on taking the back stairs to sneak into Maxās room just before midnight. Eddie suggests that just Steve and Lucas go - he doesnāt want anyone getting suspicious if heās not in his bed.
Steve offers to stay with him, but Eddie is insistent. Stubborn. āYouāve gotta help Sinclair. Make sure he doesnāt royally fuck things up.ā
They both know thatās bullshit. Out of the two of them, Steve is the fucker-upper. āWhat if you need help?ā
āIāve got Sam.ā Eddie reminds him, places a quick kiss over Steveās wrist. āAnd besides, Iāll just be sleeping. Nighttime meds usually knock me out cold.ā
āUsually.ā
āIāll beĀ fine, sweetheart.ā Eddie speaks in the kindest register Steve has ever heard from him. Itās really nice. āIāll be here when you get back.ā
Thereās an unwanted fear taking over Steveās mind right now. A selfish fear.
āRemember me. Okay, Eddie?ā
Eddieās kind register doesnāt waver. āOkay, Steve.ā
Itās almost midnight. Steve places the stuffed bear in the crook of Maxās right arm. Lucas slings her arm over it, keeping it secure. Eddie told them thatās the arm she holds it with in his dreams. Might as well be as accurate as possible with this.
They keep the conversation light while they wait for the clock to strike twelve. Little topics like how uncharacteristically warm it is for November and how no one has been able to conquer her Dig Dug high score at the arcade. Things like that.
āItās almost showtime, Mayfield.ā Steve leans in two minutes before midnight.
Lucas laughs, stroking her shoulder. āStill annoying that youāre older than me.ā
āOh, it shows.ā Steve teases. āSheās more mature than both of usĀ combined.ā
āAnd she never lets us forget that either.ā
āNever.ā
Day 77:
The clock alerts them that itās midnight. Both of them are holding their breath, staring hard down at Max. Watching. Waiting. Wishing for change.
A few minutes go by, but nothing happens. No difference whatsoever.
āMaybe itāll take awhile.ā Lucas says. Hope trembling in his voice.
Steve gives a half-smile. āYeah. That could be it.ā
An hour goes by.
And then another one.
By three, Steve stands up. Mainly to keep himself from falling asleep, but also, to give his nerves something to do.
āWitching hour.ā Lucas states blankly. As if Steve is just supposed to know what the hell that is. Steve peers over and sees that Lucas isnāt talking to him. Heās talking toĀ Max. āYou love witching hour.ā
āIs that right?ā
Lucas nods. āShe says itās that time of night where her mind is most clear. Which I always found equally bizarre and cute.ā
Steve chuckles, sits back down. āWhy is that?ā
āWitching hour is said to be the hour where ghosts and demons are most likely to⦠materialize.ā
āMaterialize?ā
āShow themselves.ā
The phone next to Maxās desk starts ringing as soon as those words leave Lucasā mouth. Both of them jump in their seats, Steveās pretty sure he mumbles something explicit and incoherent.
He picks it up so that Lucas doesnāt have to let go of Maxās hand. āHello?ā
āJust me.ā
Steve sighs at the familiar voice. āSpeaking ofĀ demonsā¦ā
Lucas whispers,Ā āis it Eddie?āĀ And Steve nods, laughing a bit at the impeccable timing.
āCanāt keep your mind off me, huh?ā
āSomething like that.ā Steve replies. āIs everything okay?ā
āI saw something.ā Eddie whispers. āWell, IĀ heardĀ something. Sheās not up yet⦠is she?ā
āNot yet, no.ā
āYou know theĀ happy birthdayĀ tune Iāve been hearing?ā
āYeah?ā
āIt was louder tonight, more distinct.ā Eddie states. āSo I walked closer to Max, and it got evenĀ louder.ā
āWhat does that mean?ā
āI donāt know, man but I think⦠I think the song is inside the bear.ā
Steve looks at the toy, tries to connect the dots. Not doing such a swell job. āYou mean like a voice box or something?ā
āSomething like that, yeah.ā Eddie yawns, the medicines must have really done him in tonight. āJust test out the theory and give me a call back, yeah?ā
āYeah, okay.ā
āGood luck.ā
āSweet dreams.ā
And the line clicks dead.
āWhat did he say?ā Lucas jumps up, adrenaline must be kicking back in.
Steve heads toward Maxās bedside. āHe thinks that song is coming from inside the bear. Does it have a button or anything?ā
They carefully inspect the bear, without moving it from Maxās hold. Neither one of them notice anything resembling a button or a pull-string. Steve takes a step back, while Lucas continues to search.Ā
Before they left tonight, the position she needed to be in seemedĀ weirdlyĀ important to Eddie. He made a big fuss about it, rambled for quite a long time:
āItās wrapped under her right arm, every damn time. Other things change, like her clothes or her hairstyle, but never her position. Always hugging that damn bear like itās her long lost twin.ā
āHey, Sinclair. I might know what you can try.ā
āIām listening.ā
Steve hopes this doesnāt come across stupid but⦠āI think you need to hug Max.ā Okay. It sounds aĀ littleĀ stupid, for sure. He tries to elaborate. āWell⦠hug MaxĀ andĀ the bear. Eddie said she's always hugging it - that must be whatās making the song play.ā
Steve bends down, pushes the green overalls to the side, just to check.
āNo fucking way.ā Lucas gasps, looking over Steveās shoulder.
There it is. Right in the middle of the bearās body, lays a red heart sticker. Thereās words printed on it, but most of the lettering has faded away. Steve squints and thinks it might have said something likeĀ āpress here.āĀ No way to know for sure though.
āGo ahead, Sinclair.ā Steve motions for Lucas to take his place. āHug the birthday girl.ā
Lucas gulps, slowly switching spots with Steve. He glances back one more time, maybe for reassurance, which Steve gladly gives to him. Just a few pats on the back. Three times for three in the morning. The witching hour.
MaxĀ lovesĀ the witching hour.
He leans over, almost kneeling, and wraps Max into a gentle embrace. āHappy Birthday, Mad Max.ā Lucas squeezes her lightly at first, then tighter. Nothing too tight, nothing that would undo all of her intricate wiring. But enough to make the song start playing.
The birthday melody is almost inaudible. The speaker inside the toy soundsĀ extremelyĀ eroded, overused. Steve isnāt the biggest music expert, but evenĀ heĀ can tell that itās out of tune. All the notes are distorted and boxy.Ā
Itās playing though. Itās working that much.
Lucas doesnāt let go of Max the whole time. He keeps squeezing her and the bear. Steve stays incredibly still, not on purpose, just out of anticipation. Caution, too.
The last note plays out for a long time, much longer than it needs to. Steve almost wonders if it got jammed, but it eventually clicks off. Letting the room go silent. Just their heavy breathing, the air conditioning, and Maxās heart monitor.
Her heart monitorā¦
āOh my god.ā Steve hears it almost instantly. The change in pattern. A new tempo of beeps. Faster or maybe slowly or maybe itās switching between the two, heās not quite sure. But itās definitelyĀ somethingā¦
Something new.
AlmostĀ a key change.Ā AlmostĀ a song.
āSteveā¦ā Lucas lifts up, keeping one hand over Maxās arm. āSomethingās happening.ā
The pattern changes again. Itās picking up the pace, becoming more lively.
Steve and Lucas both shift their focus to her face, her eyes. Theyāre still closed, but theyāre moving now. They see all the rapid movements underneath her eyelids, causing her eyelashes to twitch, to flicker.
Sheās still in there. Sheās still in there and sheāsĀ responding.
āGet a nurse.ā Lucas says urgently, never letting his focus leave Maxās face.
Steve rushes into the hallway, grabs the first nurse he can find. Heās not even sure if he forms a full sentence to her, just a jumbled mess of exclamations. But it must be enough to get his point across because she jumps into action. Pages the medical team on staff and makes a mad dash to Maxās bedside.
Within ten minutes, her room is swarmed with nurses and doctors. Her eyes begin to crack open, muscles working harder than they have inĀ months. The monitor is getting stronger, steadier. Might be the best tonal-based arrangement Steve has ever heard in life.Ā
Thereās a brief lull while the doctors add a few notes to her chart. Steve takes the opportunity to pull Lucas aside, tells him heās going to fill Eddie in on the good news. Lucas is all smiles, waving Steve off. Steve is all smiles too as he jogs up the stairs.
Max is waking up, thereās no reason for any other expression to occupy his face at this time. Smiling is the only appearance that seems suitable for this sort of occasion.
Thatās the philosophy circling Steveās mind when he gets to Eddieās room, and it immediately vanishes at the sight of EddieĀ sobbingĀ in his bed.
āOh my god, whatās wrong?ā Steve hops onto the creaky edge, pulling his sweater sleeve over his hand to rub away all the tears and snot. Itās fucking gross, but Steve canāt process anything besides comfort right now. Gross shit is secondary to sadness.
But⦠Eddieās not sad. HeāsĀ laughing. Heās still sobbing, but heās laughing too. What the hell? Steve is fuckingĀ baffled.
Eddie grabs Steveās drippy sleeves and waves his arms wildly before placing Steveās hands over his tear-stained cheeks.
āIt all came back,ā Eddie chokes out, smiling through his sniffles. āAll of it. Every last pesky memory.ā He moves Steveās hands from his cheeks to his temples. āItās all right here, Steve. I remember itĀ all.ā
Oh. OhĀ fuck.
Steve keeps his hands there, bringing Eddieās face forward to kiss him madly. His lips are extra wet, everything tastes a bit salty from all the teardrops. Theyāre kissing with the damn door still open, but fuck anyone who dares Steve to remove his lips from EddieĀ āUnabridged EditionāMunson.
Theyāre laughing and kissing and mopping up tears with mouths and tongues and Steveās sleeve yet again.Ā
Steve brings their foreheads together, feels more powerful now that theyāre on the same page, memory-wise. Heās fuckingĀ elated, can hear it every damn word he utters. āWhen? How? When?Ā When?ā
Eddie sniffs again, kisses the corner of Steveās mouth. āA few minutes into the devilās hour.ā
āIs that different from the witching hour?ā
āNo, Stevie, theyāre the same thing.ā Eddieās forehead wrinkles, his face is blotchy from all the crying. āColor me impressed that you know what the witching hour is.ā
Steve gets up to shut the door, lock it, anything to avoid the explanation on how he just learned what the witching hour is - thanks to Maxās obsession with it. āWait⦠shortly after you called me?ā
āNot long after that, yeah.ā Eddie finally blows his nose into an actualĀ tissueĀ this time. āI wouldāve called, but Iāve been a blubbery mess ever since. Itās justā¦ā
āOverwhelming?ā
āVery. A fucking monsoon of emotions.ā
Steve dries the last few tears off of Eddieās face. āDo you think Max waking up helped unlock the rest of your memories?ā
He recalls Eddieās birdcage tattoo, rephrasing the question. āLike maybe, you were bothĀ trappedĀ somewhere else? Somewhere less -ā
āLessĀ normal? Supernatural, maybe?ā
Steve has flashbacks of red lightning bolts and floating ash particles everywhere. āYeah. That.ā
āFeels like it, yeah.ā Eddie nods slowly, still processing probably. āAlmost like we needed each other to shut down the whole system. Break free.ā
āEscape.ā Steve touches Eddieās side, right where the tattoo is located.
āExactly.ā Eddie grins. āWe escaped.ā
āFuckingĀ wow.ā
āCouldnāt have said it better myself, Steve Harrington.ā
Steve crosses his legs on the bed, fully facing Eddie. They stare at each other for a moment, before Eddie tackles Steve with a hug. He wraps his arms around Eddieās waist, laughing at the abruptness. Not complaining though. Steve would never complain about receiving an Eddie Tackle Hug.
However, an unwanted fear, similar to the one he had last night, enters the forefront of his mind.
Eddie remembers everything now, even the bad shit. He probably remembers Steve being the ultimate shithead in high school. HeĀ alsoĀ probably remembers Steve having a massive crush on Nancy Wheeler just a few months ago.Ā
Steve slips out of the hug, shrinking into his stupid fears. āDoes this change anything?ā
āLike what?ā
āAboutā¦ā Steve gestures over himself. Tries to play it off like itās no big deal, but it is. Masking that is impossible.
āAboutĀ you?ā Eddie scoffs, taking Steveās hand. HeĀ deliberatelyĀ rubs his thumb over Steveās left index finger, where SteveĀ usedĀ to wear his class ring - the same one thatās sitting over Eddieās chest, next to his guitar pick.Ā
āMy naive little Stevie boy. You think that I, a mere mortal who used to wait around Starcourt Mall for hours to catch a glimpse of your impeccable backside, would just be over you likeĀ that?Ā Please. Be serious.ā
āOkay.ā SteveĀ un-shrinks himself, gets stuck in Eddieās shimmery eyes because heĀ can. āJust checking.ā
āWell if youāreĀ just checking, let me help you get a moreĀ thoroughĀ analysis.ā Eddie is the one inĀ SteveāsĀ lap this time, tongue going straight down Steveās throat. Itās fucking predatory, the way Eddieās kissing him. Way too dirty right away.Ā
Minutes earlier, Eddie was bawling his eyes out and now heāsĀ activelyĀ trying to tongue-fuck Steve in a goddamnĀ hospital. Patients are probably coughing up blood two doors down, but here they are - panting and getting hard just from licking into each otherās mouths. Itās sick and demented, but so is all the bullshit theyāve put up with this year.Ā
An eye for an eye, or whatever those bearded proverbs say.
Steve keeps his hands gripped over Eddieās hips, twisting at the material of his sweatpants. HeĀ knowsĀ that heās being noisy now. Every time Eddie grinds the slightest bit over his thigh, heās moaning, chanting Eddieās name like a slutty hymn. If they donāt slow this the fuck down, Steveās sweater wonāt be the only damp article of clothing amongst them.
āDriving me crazy here, Munson.ā Steve grits his teeth, stays as quiet as possible which somehow makes the pleasure hitĀ harderĀ when Eddie nibbles on his ear.
āLike you this way.ā Eddie snarls, blowsĀ intoĀ Steveās ear this time.
Steve does a full-bodyĀ shiver, wants to fucking ride off of that motion, but no way. Not here. Not in the godforsaken medical inferno. AbsolutelyĀ not.Ā
He releases his grip on Eddieās sweatpants, cracking his knuckles. āCan we likeā¦Ā notĀ let the first time we fuck be in a head trauma ward?ā
āYou mean to tell me youĀ donātĀ find the smell of formaldehyde to be a turn-on?ā
āQuite the opposite actually.ā
Eddie tries to bribe Steve with massages so that he can stay in his lap. He promises to be on his best behavior, but Steve isnāt a complete moron. Eddieās Best Behavior, is still naughty, still vulgar as all fuck.
He makes a big scene out of it, collapsing onto his pillows, complaining howĀ coldĀ he is to no longer be in the arms of aĀ āreal man.ā
Such a weirdo. Steve loves it.
āDo you want this back?ā Eddie flips Steveās ring over the chain around his neck.
Steve shrugs, shaking his head. āYou should keep it.ā
Eddie continues to fiddle with the chain. His shoulders drop, settling into their natural position. āBut you donāt need the visual indicator anymore. Iām not gonna forget.ā
They can say that word now. Forget. It no longer holds the same power over them.Ā
āI know you wonāt.ā Steve stops Eddieās fidgety fingers from clanking the ring against the chain anymore. He keeps their hands pressed together, resting on top of their two charms.Ā
āI want you to wear it toĀ rememberĀ instead.ā
One month laterā¦
Unlike the weirdly warm November, Hawkins is having aĀ freakishlyĀ cold December. Steve dresses in layers to begin, but the extra-puffy jackets and hair-flattening beanies are concealing some of hisĀ bestĀ assets.
This wouldnāt be such a mega bummer, except itās Eddieās first day out of the hospital. So Steve is losing his shit that this is how Eddie is going to see him for the first time in months. Out in the wild. On a fuckingĀ date.
A real date, not a hospital-adaptation of a date. A real one. One that Eddie insisted on planning outĀ entirely, start to finish. Refusing to tell Steve a goddamn detail about it.
Theyāre meeting in the Hawkins High School parking lot, right after sunset. Eddie is celebrating his homecoming with Wayne during the day, before his shift at the plant. Steve keeps the heat on when he parks, mainly because heās expecting Eddie to be fashionably late. The guyās never been known for his punctuality, neither has Steve though.
Steve listens to three and a half songs on the radio by the times Eddieās van screeches into the parking lot, braking way too fucking close to Steveās car. Several months in a hospital bed has made his already dismal driving skills even worse. He turns down the radio and watches Eddie slip out of his van.Ā
Itās dazzling, seeing Eddie outside, back in his preferred attire. Steve feelsĀ dazzled. One time, Steve spotted Ralph Macchio on the sidewalks of Indianapolis, was totally starstruck by him.
Eddie Munson has the same effect, only muchĀ muchĀ better.Ā Cause Steve gets to kiss Eddie and mark up his neck like heās a fucking coloring book.
Eddie thumps his row of silvery rings on the window, breaking Steveās dazzle-induced trance. Steve smiles, rolls the window down halfway.
āCold much?ā Eddie grimaces at Steveās heavy coat. Immediately knocks off his stupid beanie.
āItās the middle of winter.ā
āGuess Iāll need to warm you up then.ā Eddie unzips a small portion of Steveās jacket. āGet you out of these ridiculous clothes.ā He sticks his cold fucking hand into Steveās shirt, against his bare chest.
āJesus!ā Itās so cold that Steveās teeth start chattering at the contact. āSee - I think youāre just using the weather as an excuse to get me naked.ā
āIāmĀ alwaysĀ looking for a reason to get you naked.ā
Steve rolls the window down the rest of the way. āWell the jokeās on you then, babe. You donāt need a reason.ā
āNo?ā
āNope. Iām a sure thing.ā Steve kisses him, gets his hand on his leather jacket, decides right away that he likes this material way more than the gauzy cotton on those hospital gowns.
Eddie playfully chomps at the tip of Steveā nose, a weird little habit heās formed over the last month. It never fails to make Steve snort with laughter. āThat sounds a lot like something a hometown slut would say.ā
āThe one and only.ā
As soon as Eddie gets in the car, heāsĀ beggingĀ to drive it to the secret date location. Steve would rather gnaw off his non-dominant hand than let Eddie Munson drive his precious baby around town. Heās crazy about the guy but notĀ thatĀ crazy.
āJust give me the directions and Iāll drive us there.ā
āNo fun.ā Eddie stomps the floorboard.Ā
Steve clicks his fingernails over the buckle on Eddieās belt. āI think IāmĀ veryĀ fun.ā
āFuckingĀ drive, you tease.ā Eddie groans, reluctantly moves Steveās hand back to the steering wheel.
It doesnāt take long for Steve to figure out where Eddie is taking them, Steve catches on after the second left turn.Ā
āTheĀ library?ā Steve questions at the stoplight. āItās past six, thereās no fucking way the library will be open.ā Besides, why the fuck would he want to go on a study date with a guy painted in leather?
Eddie doesnāt respond, just keeps navigating and humming along to whatever Billy Idol song is playing on the radio.
Steve parks in the corner of the library lot, just in case this is all a ploy to get them somewhere dark andĀ alone. Eddie might just want secluded car sex, and Steve would not complain at all if thatās the big surprise.Ā
Clearly thatās not the surprise, because Eddie skips to the front doors, messing around with the lock.
Steve hurries after him. āYou wanna get us arrested on our first real date?Ā ThatāsĀ your idea of romance?ā
āIāve been in white-walled prison for the last seven months.ā Eddie takes the bobby pin thatās in between his wicked grin, jiggles it into the lock a few times, gets it open with ease. āLet me earn my troublemaker title back, okay?ā
He spits the bobby pin onto the ground and swings open the door. Steve doesnāt know why his thigh musclesĀ clenchĀ at the aggressive spitting action, butĀ fuck,Ā it happens. Definitely not an innocent reflex, thatās for damn sure.
Once inside, Eddie takes Steveās hand, guides him through a maze of bookshelves. If Steve had been a brighter pupil in school, he may know where they are headed, what section they will end up at. But he skimmed through most classes, only gave his full attention to the subjects that piqued his interest (which weren't many, especially not ones ofĀ practicalĀ use).Ā
āHere.ā Eddie motions down to an aisle with empty shelves. Thereās three books stacked together at the end of the corridor, along with a few candles. Thereās probably some unspoken law amongst librarians that candles should never cross the threshold of library, although Steve doubts Eddie gives a fuck about library laws - orĀ anyĀ legal system for that matter.Ā
Itās dark and warm, streams of smoke coming off the illegal candlelight. Steve takes a few steps closer to examine the books under the dim flames. Reads each title on the bindings.
āYouĀ didnāt.āĀ Steve peers over at Eddie.
āI sureĀ did.ā
TheyāreĀ EddieāsĀ literary references, the ones used to describe his varying moods in the hospital.Ā Taming of the Shrew, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,Ā andBeowulf.
āWhat the hell did you do with all theĀ otherĀ books?ā
Eddie shrugs, slides his hands into his front pockets. āTheyāre safe.ā
Fucking suspicious. āThatāsĀ not reassuring at all.ā
āIt's not?ā Eddie invades Steveās space. āThisĀ isn't reassuring?ā
Eddie kisses Steveās neck, pulls him in by the waist. Steve peels off his stupid puffy jacket so goddamn fast. He naturally lets his arms drape over Eddieās shoulders, allows himself to get dizzy in his heated touch, soft lips. His hands meet at the base of Eddieās neck, clawing all up his scalp. Steve can feel Eddieās muscles tighten, exhaling into the kisses across Steveās collarbone.
āSo, what am I today?ā Eddie whispers.
āHmm?ā Steveās listening abilities are hazy from the wandering touches. Not comprehending thoughts so well anymore. Not like this.
āKathy?ā Eddie pecks Steveās left cheek. āHyde?ā Then his right. āGrendel?ā Then the bridge of Steveās nose, before biting it like he always does now.
Steve feels seduced - at least, heĀ thinksĀ this is what seduction feels like. UsuallyĀ heāsĀ the one doing the whole Mrs. Robinson routine, heās not used to being Dustin Hoffman in the seduction scenario.
He trudges through the dreamlike fog that Eddie has constructed in his mind, finds a way to reclaim sobriety in this moment.
āWhich one is it?ā
āHow aboutā¦ā Steve takes a deep breath. Kisses Eddie on the lips and pulls away. āHow aboutĀ boyfriend?ā
Eddieās nails dig into Steveās back, clutching way too hard.
āWould that title work?ā Steve asks, only a small inkling of doubt seeping into his confidence.Ā
Eddie stops digging, his forehead un-wrinkles, his gaze becomes gentle. He takes Steveās hands into his own, just dangling between them and finally smiles.
āBoyfriend works.ā Eddie answers - the smile turns into aĀ dopeyĀ grin. āAs long as youāre cool with sharing titles.ā
Steve looks at Eddieās chain necklace and nods. āSure. We can share.ā
They stay like this for a while, Steve only notices the passage of time from the dripping wax over the candles. The flame is getting weaker, the room is getting darker. They stay the same. They stay grounded. Steveās not in any rush to move or stop spewing mushy nonsense back and forth with Eddie, but heās aware. Heās aware that the rest of the world is keeping a schedule, while they quietly riot against Time altogether.
Eddie is the one that eventually breaks the frozen moment. āWe havenāt seen my favorite section of the library yet.ā
āOh really?ā Steveās voice is rich and buttery from the pureĀ swooningĀ heās been doing all evening. āAre you planning to burn that section down with your pyromaniac tendencies as well?ā
āYouāll just have to see for yourself.ā Eddie blows out the candles and starts dragging Steve away once again.
They jog up two flights of stairs, race to the fire exit, and wind up at a sketchy looking ladder. Eddie doesnāt hesitate, starts climbing, skipping every other wrung.
āWhat the living hell, Munson?ā Steve doesnāt even know why heās whisper-screaming, but he is.
Eddie bangs his fist at the top, cracking open the square-ish door on the ceiling. He looks back down at Steve with a crazed expression. āDonāt tell me youāre scared of heights.ā
āNo, justā¦āĀ Confused. Steveās often in a state of confusion though, so whatās fucking new? āOut of the way. Coming up.āĀ
Eddie hoists himself up and disappears. Steve lets out a string of swears, still whisper-screaming as he climbs. When he gets to the top of the roof, he sees Eddie sitting directly in the center. Heās looking up at the stars, seems happy. Seems alive. Free.
Thereās a grocery bag beside him, rustling in the night breeze. Steve smooths out his jeans and joins Eddie on the ground. Or roof. Roof-ground. Whatever the fuck people call it.
Steve is about to snoop through the bag, when Eddie grabs something from behind his back, cradles it against his chest. āThis is my favorite book. Right here.ā
Steve squints his eyes, but itās hard to see the binding in the dark. āThe Hobbit?ā
āNo.ā Eddie leans in for a quick kiss. āBut itās so fucking sexy that youād guess that.ā
He holds the book flat out in both palms, offering it to Steve, who realizes itās not a book at all. Itās a binder.
Eddieās Memory Log binder.
āDid youā¦ā Steve takes the binder, trembles from his sudden nerves. āDid you read this?ā
āEvery page.ā
Fuck. Steve isĀ fullyĀ embarrassed now. Yes, Eddie has seen him writing shit down in this for months, but parts of it are personal. Some pages are less about the notes, and more about how Eddie made Steve feel. Itās like someone just told Steve they published his goddamn diary (which he doesĀ notĀ have a diary, fuckingĀ gross).
āI actually added some notes.ā Eddie flips the cover open. āYou should take a look.ā
On the first page, next to this bullet:
Eddie doesnāt remember he has a sense of humor.
Eddie has scribbled in tiny lettering:
Not true - youāre just not as funny as you think you are, Steve Harrington.
Next to this note of Day 5:
Eddie remembers Grease? (Of all the movies Steve thought this guy would reference⦠Grease? Is it the leather? Hm.)
Eddie had added:
First of all, I will poison your stupid grape sodas if you ever tell anybody I like Grease. And second⦠of course, itās the leather. And Frenchie is comedy GOLD, obviously.
On Steveās corner-note on Day 38 that says:
Eddie notices Steveās assā¦
Eddie has edited to say:
EddieĀ noticesĀ touchedĀ Steveās assā¦(as of Day 72. Put in the history books, folks. Teach the kiddies about this in schools across America).
Thereās so many random notes, Eddie manages to fit them on the busiest of progress days. Steve flips further along before Eddie stops him, picks out a specific page.
Day 66.
The day where Steve stapled Eddieās card to the page.
The day where Steve wrote this:
Robin was right. Definitely think Iām falling for him.
Eddie has added his note underneath, in dark red ink:
Thatās good. Because heās definitely falling for you too.
Steve looks up, almost gets a head rush from moving so fast. Eddie seems nervous too. For once in his life, he seems to be reconsidering his boldness.
āAre my rewrites okay?ā Eddie snags the binder back, sets it to the side so he can scoot in closer.
āHell yeah.ā Steve closes the gap, leans in for another kiss.
āGood. Because now I have bad news.ā
āWhat?ā
āI lied. I didnāt get back from the hospital today.āĀ
Steveās stomach drops. āYou didnāt?ā
āI got backĀ yesterday.ā
āWhy would you lie about that?ā
āSo I could getĀ thisĀ done and surprise you.ā Eddie lifts his leather jacket and undershirt to reveal his side, his rib cage. He still has some bandages from the hospital in certain areas. However, Eddie has clear wrapping in one spot. Steve bends forward to examine the markings.
Itās a tattoo. A bird tattoo, the bird on the opposite side of the broken cage, escaping its enclosure. Free like Eddie. Itās the same one he planned on getting after graduation. But⦠heĀ didnātĀ graduate. Not necessarily.
āFelt like I still deserved to get it, ya know?ā Eddie says, shaking a bit from the cold. āAfter all, IĀ didĀ escape death⦠and that damn hospital room. It still works.ā
Steve nods, fights the urge to touch it because he knows itās probably still sore. āWhat kind of bird is it?ā
āA canary.ā
Steve studies the tattoo even closer, a sideways smirk creeps up on his face. āIs itā¦Ā yellow?ā
āYeah, yeah.ā Eddie quickly lowers his shirt and jacket back down. āBut theĀ leastĀ vomit-inducing yellow they had available.ā
āDid you get this bird forĀ me?āĀ
āAbsolutelyĀ not.ā Eddie says, very defensive. āIām not a trashy white girl who drunkenly gets a tattoo at her bachelorette party.āĀ
āGot it.ā
Eddie pauses, hesitates. āYouĀ mayĀ have helped inspire the color choice though.ā
āI see.ā Steve is so fucking glad that itās dark outside because heĀ knowsĀ heās flushed. Can feel the blood spreading all over his face.
āDo you like it?ā
āI love it.ā Steve is able to say it this time. Means it. āI love you.ā
āI love you too.ā Eddie grabs Steveās hand, kisses the spot where his class ring used to reside. āWould be a completeĀ idiotĀ not to fall in love with you, Steve Harrington.ā
Saying it isnāt terrifying. Hearing it isnāt alarming his flight senses. All the usual declaration jitters have departed. Packed up and left town.Ā
Maybe itās because thereās a clarity over their relationship that Steve has never had before. A clarity that is only obtained by coming face-to-face with Death so many times. Eddie is alive, Max is awake. Why would three little words scare Steve when he almost lost them both?
And besides, Eddie isnāt going to forget that heās in love with Steve. That Steve loves him back. Thatās no longer something they have to worry about either. Yeah, the world may be an apocalyptic fuckshow, but Eddieās memory isĀ sublime. Never forgets a goddamn thing anymore.
Looks like Steveās wish came true in that regard. He really is un-fucking-forgettable.
āWhatās in the bag?ā Steve takes a peak, canāt see shit in the dark though.
āOur dinner.ā
āYou made me dinner?ā Steve isnāt sure how heāll politely decline Eddieās food. He may have fought monsters with homemade weapons, but heās certainly not brave enough to eat something prepared by a dude that considers Vienna sausages to beĀ gourmet.
āIĀ boughtĀ dinner.ā
Thank god.Ā
āWhatās on the menu?ā
āFor me? Lo mein. ForĀ youā¦ā Eddie pulls out two separate containers and winks. āKung Pao Chicken.ā
Steve smiles, positivelyĀ beamsĀ at his boyfriend. He takes the container and plastic silverware, digs right in. He takes a big bite, watches Eddieās goofy, lovestruck expression while he chews.
āWhat do you think?ā Eddie seems eager for his approval.
Steve doesnāt keep him waiting. He swallows his bite and answers Eddie the same way he did many months ago. āExcellent choice.ā
āThe food?ā
āThe food, the date, theĀ guy.ā Steve reaches out to hold Eddieās hand, knotting their fingers together. Once a gesture of helpless support. Now meaning exactly what Steve says out loud:
āEverything.ā
It means absolutely everything.
š The End š
( @poisonhemloc )
Flint sat on the grass for a while, sitting against the radio tower and playing their ukulele. They played the usual melody, matching up with the tone of the rest of the travellers. They kept their eyes on the sky as the strummed. They weren't sure where the new one was so early in the loop. They had hoped to get to Timber Hearth as fast as possible so they were easy to hear and quick to get too.
They supposed they were a bit slow.. they just hoped that the new one remembered to use their signalscope to find them...
A few spins later and Flint sighs. Wondering if maybe the new one died real early in the loop... not a good thought, but absolutely possible. They continued playing anyways, just out of hope. They don't really keep an eye on the sky anymore though, as the sun is starting to get red... they don't like to be reminded of their limited time.
Eventually, they hear the sounds of jets running. The loud hiss of a ship landing, and they look up from their ukulele. Just beside their own ship, another lands. It's quality is a bit better than Flint's own, but their wasn't made for landing very often. They were an orbiter. This new one was a full fleshed traveller. From the near perfect landing, Flint could tell they'd done this a lot, even though it had only been around ten to fifteen minutes since their first technical launch.
The exit hatch opened and the newest traveler hopped out in full gear. Turning to face Flint, their body language became instantly excited. Flint stood up, leaning their ukulele against the wall beside their helmet. They smiled.
"Howdy!"
The other rushed over, taking their helmet off and beaming.
"By the stars, hi!!" They were a bit shorter then Flint, but not by much. Their eyes still had the glowing wonder of a fresh hatchling. "I heard your ukulele! It's very nice." After getting close, they almost looked like they wanted to hug Flint.
"Well, I was playin' it in hopes you'd come to me. So..."
"Do you know me?"
Flint chuckled. "Well, the last time I was on Timber Hearth before the loops wa-"
"You're in the loop too?! Well, I guess I knew that since Gabbro just told me-"
"You're a talker, aren't ya? Heheh.. yes, 'm in the loop. And as I was sayin', the last time I was here before it was to get a resupply of food. I didn't see anyone but Slate. And before that it have been a long while, so if I knew ya, I don't recognize ya now. Sorry hatchling."
They shrugged and continued to smile. "Well, I only remember your name. Last time I saw you was when I was just a little one... I'm Chalk! Nice to meet you, Flint!"
"The pleasure's all mine. By chance... do you know how many loops it's been?"
"I keep a track on my organizer... I think this is loop two hundred... and thirteen? I'm happy to check!"
"Don't worry about it. Here, have a seat. Let's chat a while, yeah?" Flint sat back down and patted the spot beside them, which Chalk quickly took.
Chalk sat their helmet on their lap and tapped it a bit while thinking, looking up at the sky. "Judging by its redness... we have around five minutes."
"You're real adjusted to this, aren't ya?"
They shrug. "Well, been over two hundred loops. You get used to it at some point. I guess I'm kinda thankful though. If I had never gotten into the loop, I'd never have been able to learn so much about this solar system... there is so much I could tell you about."
"We got all the time in the universe and more, hatchling. Go for it. And you're always free to visit my ship.... long as ya aren't crashing into it again."
Chalk chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of their neck. "Right, hahah... sorry about that by the way."
"It's alright. Now talk. What's on ya mind?"
Chalk got excited and instantly began talking. They talked about the nomai statues and the translation tool they had made with a friend. They talked about how there were ruins everywhere. They talked about Gabbro and the other travellers. They ended up talking about...
"And then a few loops back. I was looking for a probe that's orbiting the solar system because I had a look in this place right behind us. There is some sort of thing that causes an eclipse of the sun... here, come see!"
The sun was getting dangerously close to exploding, and they Chalk happily led Flin/iron the radio tower. Flint had been here before, but never inside. They never saw a need to. Walking inside they saw all the pictures of the solar system. It was beautiful. One had a dark spot over the sun, and another had Gabbro over the lens.
"What is that?" Flint poked the dark spot on the photo curiously.
"I was going to check it out this loop, but then when I pulled out my signalscope, I heard you!"
"I really need to look into the solar system more..."
In the distance, the undeniable sound of the sun shrinking in on itself could be heard. Flint and Chalk rushed outside as the sun imploded in blue. The heat could be felt in their faces from here.
"Well..." Chalk laughed a bit. "See you in another loop?"
Flint nodded. "Yeah. See you around hatchling."
The blast of the sun hit them both as the solar system faded to white.
Remember everything⦠Forget nothing. A book of secrets, maybe. Clasping the old leathery cover of the journal, I begin to wonder. Truly, is this worthwhile? If one can forget a memory, one can forget an object, a place, a face, then whoās to say the book will not be forgotten too? Left to rot upon the stoop of my mind. Letting every inked memory go burn away with the rest of the world, as time slips and goes. Thatās too existential, I donāt want to think of that. Maybe it could be useful? I may forget a fact, and can check, keep it safely tucked in my pocket. That could work, though someone stealing a journal with a full detailed life story⦠Considering where I work, it's not safe. Let it stay at home, let it slumber until it is called upon. It's name only uttered by my lips. Me, [REDACTED]. That could work. I grabbed onto the pen, rolled away to my left on the mess of paper spillage and cracked open the pages. Letting the ink drowned tip grace the page, I sprawled the words I had been preplanning so carefully. Though not fully creative, itās still a name nonetheless? Only I could conjure the true beauty of it, and view it myself. Only this, and nothing more.
Memory log #1. Recovery's road, the only way to glory
...I MUST'VE MISPLACED THE DAMNED BOOK, HAVEN'T I?
dude if kotlc gets big(ger) imagine how much clout the people who went on that url hoarding spree in 2016 could have

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Memory Log: Age 25, at home
"Frank, we can't just put the mixer on higher it will make a mess!" I put it on high anyways.Ā Joey was not impressed with me. Ā But I've made this cake plenty of times before, it's never turned out horrible because I put it on high.Ā Besides, a little mess hasnāt hurt anyone before. I can't wait till we make the frosting, he's going to kill me.Ā Ā The day went well, honestly. Ā We made a mess and were a mess but it was fun, it's been a long time since we smiled and laughed like we had. Ā Joey ended up passing out on my couch after he showered to get the baking mess off him.Ā He "borrowed" a hoodie and some shorts from me, I'm going to assume that I won't be getting them back.
I saw something in my dreams last night.
I was flying, above the sea next to the rainforest i'd called home. It was my hatching day, I was treating myself to a casual fly in the night sky after a long day of celebration with my family and the rest of my village community. I can still taste the peaches and mangoes in the back of my throat...
But i saw something...someone...someone beautiful. Another dragon, but not the kind that i was familiar with. This one glowed in the dark...and she lived in the water. She was pale pink and grey with a touch of aquamarine, with a slender snout and a wide smile that showed all of her teeth and even some of the gums ...
She was beautiful. Adorable...breath taking.
I had a wonderful night with her, racing her above the water, feeling the cool breeze as i sped past in the air, but the warmth of her presence...I just met her, I barely knew her name, but i felt an immediate attraction, a pull.
Who were you, mysterious and beautiful sea dragon?...Will i ever see you again? In this life, will i find the next version of you?
I want to see you again, whoever you are...





