Chapter Text
Prologue. Starcourt Mall Parking Lot, Winter 1987.
It was just as cold, bleak, and awful as Steve had thought it would be that morning when he bundled up in a vest, a t-shirt, and a sweater and coat before leaving the house before his parents woke up. They were leaving to go on another trip. Steve always found it incredibly overbearing that his mother would spend more time making sure he, one, knew where the spare cash was for groceries, two, knew where the gun was in the house and what the safe code was, and three, promise to write to their hotel once a week to make sure he was ok than getting ready to leave. It was the only real time that his mother took a considerate amount of effort to be sure he was ok, that he would be fine by himself. Other times, she seemed to forget that she had a son. Or so it felt.
He had left his house by 8 AM. His parents had been starting to rise, but he left without saying goodbye. He brought the morning paper and a red marker pen and got a coffee from the local coffee house before driving to the newly renovated Starcourt Mall’s parking lot. He sat there peacefully, his mixtape playing softly through his speakers, heater on full blast to stop his fingers from getting frostbite. He pulled his seat completely back, allowing him to stretch his legs outwards and his feet on top of his steering wheel as he hummed to Tears of Fears, Head over Heels, and tapped his shoes together lightly to the tune. He read the job advertisements, circling the ones he was sure would quickly get. And even the ones he knew he would get but did not want. He was desperate, and desperate times called for extremely desperate measures. Including applying for the local burger diner just a few blocks away from Robin’s house. Even though he was pretty sure he got food poisoning from there when he was eleven from their double cheeseburger with ‘special sauce.’ Exceptionally and miserably desperate.
The severity of his employment status came from two unfortunate things that happened over the summer and fall that Steve didn’t believe could happen nor would happen so quickly. For one, Family Video did not like it – who knew? – when Steve flirted with the customers. It had been too often that the boyfriend complained about Steve’s over-familiarity with the opposite sex. With that came boyfriends who would throw the tapes they rented across the room in melodramatic displays of their masculinity. Not only was Steve being unprofessional, but he was also the direct cause of company damages. Which, of course, sucked massively for the company as much as it did for Steve’s already crumbling ego and libido.
Secondly, Family Video fired Robin for admitting she would finally attend college next year. She had worked hard for the last year since graduation to save as much money as possible and participate in extra summer classes. She was aiming high for a scholarship at the University of California, where she would study languages – Russian and others – and be a translator for big companies. It seemed she was aiming high… too high for Family Video. And with the prospect of their best worker leaving? They fired her and told her that she was not prioritizing the company. To their – not so – shock, Steve immediately handed in his resignation, and thus he and Robin were stone-cold broke and looking for anything to pay their way through the next year – together.
Steve couldn’t, in all honesty, say that he had missed the job. At the same time, it was exciting to think about what could come next. The excitement, however, did not pay his bills, and his father had become increasingly begrudging of his son’s failures in his short life and gave him an ultimatum. Either get a job by Christmas, or he sends him to a military school, or – if he did not do either – he was no longer his father’s son. Pretty black and white, but the only option that Steve would allow would be to get a job— and sharpish. And now he only has a week left.
Shit.
Hence, he found himself in the parking lot of the one place he hoped he would never have to work again. He eyed the rebuilt mall with wary curiosity, wondering whether the rebuild had expanded to include the secret Russian facility. He was sure the FBI, or whoever helped the cover-up last time, was keeping a much closer watch. Or so he hoped.
His tape stopped, he took it out and flipped it to the B side, and the mix continued with KISS's’ I Was Made for Lovin’ You. An odd choice, Steve had to admit, but when you made friends with a metalhead, you at least grew to enjoy the lighter songs in his regular night drive rotation. Hey, he was even getting to enjoy some Mötley Crüe and Judas Priest when the mood struck. Although he wished at that moment that he had replayed his softer, more palatable A side, since around midway through the song, a tap sounded on his driver’s window, making him jump out of his skin. The tap was high-pitched, quick, and almost metallic. Steve realized the metallic nature of the tap came from the rings on his newer friend’s fingers. He slid his seat back into its normal position and opened the car door to see Robin and Eddie Munson standing outside with twin creeping grins on their faces.
Robin had cut her hair that morning, so Steve was not picking her up for their job-hunting expedition and instead hitched a lift with Eddie. It was shorter, spikier, her bangs freshly trimmed. She wore her best interview slacks, sweaters, and boots. She looked presentable, unlike Eddie, who seemed as ready for a career in the real world as Steve felt. He wore his leather jacket, but instead of his usual denim vest combo, he wore a thick flannel shirt underneath and a Metallica t-shirt that Steve just knew that he was wearing a long black sleeve shirt under it for warmth. His hair, as ever, was wavy and messy, but he wore a bandana to keep his head even warmer than it most likely was. To finish the look, he wore Converse that looked as though they had not been cleaned since the Spring of ’86… the year everything changed.
Steve checked the car’s clock; 10 AM, it read. “What? Can’t a guy chill in a parking lot on a Friday morning in peace?” Steve asked, raising a brow, and taking off his shades which he had used to protect himself from the Winter sun’s morning glare.
“Steve,” Robin said, sounding on the verge of an annoying chuckle. “A-Are you listening to…”
“KISS?” Eddie finished, not allowing Steve to answer before striding with a slight limp – he still had a limp from healing from his injuries – to the passenger side, slipping into the seat, and turning up the music. “You like KISS all of a sudden, Harrington?”
Steve rolled his eyes, turned the music off, looked at both friends, and shrugged his arms. “So… some of the songs you suggested were good, Munson, don’t take it somewhere it doesn’t need to go, man.”
“Stephen Harrington… King Steve… adhering to my suggestions and peacefully listening to KISS on a dewy Friday morning in the middle of Starcourt parking lot alone… who woulda thunk it, Buckley?” Eddie gave Steve a shit-eating grin reaching to turn the speaker back on, but Steve lightly slapped his hand away in a reasonable warning. Eddie raised two hands in surrender and left the car, still smirking and limping. His injuries seemingly got worse in the colder weather.
“Not me!” Robin grinned a wide grin. She then tapped the car’s roof twice. “Aside from ‘chilling’ in your car, what else have you done this morning?”
Steve got out of the car and handed Robin the newspaper with a proud smile. “I double-circled the ones here in Starcourt. Luckily for us, it is reopening, there’s new jobs, and they are most likely very desperate… ya’ know, after everything.”
Robin assessed the jobs and nodded to them. All of them were assistant roles with some supervisory and assistant manager roles for good measure. Nothing they had not done before, aside from Eddie, whose only work reference was the summer he worked in a music shop before being promptly fired when he was sixteen. She showed the paper to Eddie, who looked for once… nervous. No hint on his face indicated some false ego he liked to put on no… he was anxious. “Damn… is that how much we’ll make as an assistant?” He raised a brow and whistled through his teeth. “Shit….”
“Yeah.” Robin sucked through her teeth. “It's been raised since we were last here.”
“Good, it means they are most definitely desperate. Who pays that well for assistant roles at a mall these days?” Steve said, locking up his car and draining the rest of his coffee.
Eddie gulped. “Damn, and here I thought I was making bank selling weed to cheerleaders.”
Robin reassured him, “You made the right decision Eddie, new life, new beginnings, new career. Just think, you may finally know whom Edward Jameson Munson is meant to be next year!”
They had started to walk when Steve stopped at the sound of the unfamiliar middle name. “Jameson? Like the Whiskey?” Not only that, Steve thought, why does Robin know more about this man than anyone else?
Eddie blinked. “Yeah? So what?” he asked as if being named after a brown alcoholic liquid was regular. He then replied to Robin nervously, “I’m not even sure I know that, Robbie.”
Robin thought momentarily as they neared the entry door to the Mall. She smiled the same reassuring smile as before but more earnestly and spoke, “we’re all going to live a long, happy life now that all that is over. So, who cares if you don’t figure it all out in your twenties, Ed? You still have your thirties and forties and maybe even your fifties to find that out. As long as you’re happy, fed, and thriving, who gives a shit how long it takes you to get there?” She pushed open the rotating doors that led to the mall’s main lobby, and they both followed her.
The three of them got some breakfast from the food court, and once Eddie looked a little less green around the gills, they got to work… getting work.
The deal was, of course, to respect the other if they received an offer for a role that the others did not manage to get. A job is a job, and they were happy for the other to thrive. However, working together would be preferable, as car shares and lunch breaks become much. So, first things first was to go to all the stores hiring less than three roles to see if they were interested in them individually. Steve went to a sports equipment shop managed by a former swim team member, who honestly Steve disliked, who took one look at Steve and gave a smile all his former team members seemed to provide him with nowadays. So, even King Steve didn’t make it in life, huh? Peaked early in High School, and here we are. Instantly, Steve made a sucking noise through his teeth and said, “Hmmm, the hours here are not what I am looking for; sorry, man.” And then promptly left.
Robin was given an interview at a food stall but failed when she didn’t know how to make crepes from memory. Eddie got the closest, almost being offered a job in a music shop. Part-time, but good pay. It wasn’t until he had to give his name that the small older woman behind the cash desk froze and gave him a look that Steve also noticed was being thrown around a lot lately. You’re the one who killed that poor Christina Cunningham last year and got away with it! She then made an excuse about wanting someone who played violin, not guitar, and asked them to leave since she was expecting a high-paying customer. Bullshit.
They took a break around 1 PM, grabbed a soda, and sat by the newly built fountain. Eddie was quiet, playing with his rings and pulling them off to only then put them back on in a new order. Steve felt a tap on his shoulder. He eyed Robin, who mouthed, ‘Say something encouraging!’ to him before slurping on her soda straw.
Steve didn’t know where to begin regarding the enigma code that was Eddie Jameson Munson. Sure, they got on. They hung out when he hung out with Robin or Dustin and the other kids. They had nothing against each other and, of course, started to learn that each other’s differing tastes don’t mean shit in reality. However, Steve still found it hard to know what Eddie was thinking underneath all that hair and leather. One minute, he was a friendly, carefree individual whose laugh filled the whole room. He was caring to his friends, creative, and gave a crap if someone said something against them. But then there was the nervous, quiet, and shy Eddie, whom they seemed to be seeing much more of as of late, especially since returning from the hospital after just over a year of surgeries and physiotherapy. Steve guessed that nearly losing your legs did that to a person, no matter how carefree they usually were.
“Don’t worry, big guy,” Steve began, trying to sound at ease. He gently tapped his back with his hand out of support. “We’ll find something. There’s gotta’ be something!” Robin nodded in approval.
“Maybe for you guys….” Eddie trailed off for a second before straightening up. He eyed his hand for a moment. “I don’t think people want me to find anything but the end of a gun towards my temple.” He let out a big sigh, rubbing his left leg absently as if it hurt. It probably did.
Robin pursed her lips and muttered, “They need to get over that shit. Not over the loss of Chrissy or even Jason’s death… but they need to get over blaming you. Your name was cleared. You are not the guilty suspect!” Robin raised both hands, even though one had a soda cup in it, which sloshed about, almost empty. “The FBI, of all people, cleared your name!”
Eddie, was quiet moment before mumbling, “Maybe they can see through the bullshit and that my name is being cleared? Means nothin’ without proof.” He then stood and stretched out a leg and wiggled it. “I uhh- I’m just going to go outside for a smoke.” He left the slight limp of his walk trying to be played off as a natural bop in his step.
Robin nudged Steve and bit her lip. “He is not doing good.”
“I wouldn’t either if the whole town I grew up in hated my guts,” Steve mumbled after sipping his drink. Robin smacked the back of his head, making him almost choke. “What!”
Robin made a significant gesture towards the Mall’s front doors, where Eddie had just left through. “Go talk to him, dingus. Make him realize he’s worth more than this!”
Steve looked at her with a raised brow of exasperation. “And how, pray tell dear Robin, the hell do I do that?”
Robin rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Look, Steve… I love you with all my heart. You are the brother I wish I had. But it would be best if you had male friends your age. You and Eddie have made a great foundation with each other since last year, and now it’s time to go to the next level. Be his friend Steve, listen to what he needs and support him. He will do that for you in return. He’s a great guy.” She then ushered him from the bench they were sitting on. “Go on… make a friend,” she said it with her ‘I sound like a mother right now, so listen to what I say’ voice, which worked on Steve nearly every time.
Steve frowned and threw away his soda, slowly walking out of the Mall to find Eddie. He found him about a minute from the main entrance to the left, where smokers seemed to find themselves. He was crouched on the floor with his back to the wall, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and smoke creeping from his nose. Steve approached, and Eddie didn’t notice he was there. His eyes were closed, and Steve saw him tapping something on his knee. A song far heavier than it seemed tapped out on the skin. Steve rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Can I bum one of those, man?”
Eddie kept his eyes closed as he took a pack of Marlboros and a lighter from his jacket pocket. He handed them to Steve, who took one and lit it. Steve didn’t smoke much anymore. He often partook in times of leisure, such as the few parties he was still invited to. Nonetheless, it tasted good against his tongue. Smooth and bitter and musky, just as it should be. He took a drag and sat beside Eddie, who still did not stir from his position. Steve watched Eddie for a moment. The man was still crouching; his face, although trying to hide the fact, was pained.
Steve took another drag before asking, “Why do you do that… crouch if it hurts it more?”
Eddie didn’t answer for a second but then said over the cigarette in his mouth, “the physio guy said that it would help build my muscle back. So, I try to take any opportunity to do it.”
Steve hummed in response, tapping his cigarette, and nodding. “Is it meant to make you look like you’re taking the most painful shit of the century, Munson?” Eddie coughed and laughed in response. Steve smirked to himself and added, “seriously though, how are you? We haven’t spoken much since you got out of physio….”
Eddie shrugged but didn’t say anything for a moment. He stubbed out his old cigarette and lit a new one. He took a hearty drag before he breathed in through his nose and shook his head as if contemplating what he wanted to say to Steve. He finally spoke after a long minute, “ya’ know those clips on TV of those super buff weightlifters who compete in pulling massive trucks across the sand to get into the Guinness Book of world records?” Steve nodded with a furrowed brow of confusion before Eddie continued. “Well, that feels like my life right now. I try to move the truck, but I’m not strong enough to get it further than a few yards. I can’t DM a D&D game at school, and I can’t find a job… I can’t stop assholes vandalizing my fucking trailer… I can’t do shit about it.” He drew in a shaken breath, then shrugged. “So, I don’t know, Steve, not doing great is my answer,” he didn’t say it with malice. It was pure exhaustion. He was burnt out. Ready to quit. Steve’s gut twitched out of guilt. How did he not realize that Eddie was suffering that badly?
Steve smoked for a moment while he considered what to say. “Congrats on graduating, in any case. At least you got that going for you.” He sounded dumb, but he was clutching at straws at this point.
“Ah yes,” Eddie said bitterly, recalling the memory of his slow progress on crutches across the stage to receive his diploma, only for someone to yell, as he went to exit, that they wished Eddie would fall off the stage and die. “Graduating… 86’ baby. I told you it was my year,” he sounded tired as he said it, not as excited as he should have been. “Not that the fucking FBI bribed the school to let me off… totally not that,” he finished with distaste as if he wanted to do it himself. Maybe he did, like some pride thing.
Steve stayed silent for a moment, taking the last few drags of his cigarette, which Eddie quickly replaced with a new one. Steve lit it with Eddie's lighter and said, “can I be honest here, man?” Eddie took a second before nodding.
“I think you need to give yourself a goddamn break.” Eddie raised a brow in protest, but Steve continued, “you saved the fucking world, Eddie Munson.” He turned to Eddie fully as he spoke, “You… you saved Robin, me, Nancy, and Henderson from immediate death! You went into that hoard of Demobats all guns blazing, ready to sacrifice yourself for us. You did that. Not to mention that besides Dustin, you barely knew any of us. So, fuck those guys in that mall. We don't want to work for them if they don’t hire you because you’re Eddie Munson. You’re a hero. Not those fuckers in there working 9-5 for a pittance.” He held Eddie’s hand and tapped it. “Now, I don’t want to sound like an asshole. But you need to get your ass in there and go up to the next store’s manager and show them that Eddie Munson is not a murderer. He is a well-liked, well-respected person who is hireable above all else.”
Eddie was staring, not into Steve’s eyes, but at their hands which were still touching. Steve didn’t flinch or move his hand away. He wanted to reassure Eddie and be a comfort and real guy friend who understood that being vulnerable is not fragile. He wanted Eddie to know that in one touch, and God, he hoped it worked.
After a moment, Eddie nodded, took one last drag of his cigarette, stubbed it on the ground, and stood. He winced at the pain and wiggled his leg and grunted. “To Mordor it is….” he mumbled almost to himself.
“Does this make us Samwise and Frodo?” Steve grinned, Eddie smiled a toothy grin, and they started to walk back inside.
Eddie patted Steve’s back. “You’d make a great Samwise, Steve Harrington.”
Steve smirked. “And you’d make an excellent Frodo.” He started to walk. “Come on, Master Frodo, time to kick unemployment in the ass.”
Eddie was slower than Steve, so Steve slowed his pace to match Eddie’s own. When they reached the mall’s entrance, Eddie asked, “so… where is Mordor exactly in the premise of Starcourt Mall, Samwise?”
Steve tried to recall the newspaper with all the double-circled jobs he’d found; they’d gone through most of them now. But there was, if Steve remembered correctly, a new store opening in the spring. He didn’t know what kind of store it would be, but a new store that needed not only a shop assistant – but a supervisor and assistant manager? It seemed promising to Steve, at the least. He remembered that the advertisement had placed the store on the west side of the mall's top floor. So, he told Eddie, and they went to find Robin, who was sitting waiting by the fountain. The three of them took the escalators up to the top floor and located the new store quickly due to the plastic wrappings and wood piles indicating it was a work in progress. However, the store’s signage was already on display, and Steve raised a brow in suspicion as he read the name.
“Abyss?” he read out loud. “Never heard of it.”
Robin hummed. “I think I read about that somewhere,” she began, “it’s an alternate clothing and merchandise store, ya’ know, like band t-shirts, pins, posters, and so on. I guess it’s sorta’ more what Eddie would be into, but it still looks fantastic.”
Eddie nodded, looking delighted, finally. “I heard about this place too. They’re also going to sell movie posters, like tour band t-shirts, so people feel like they were really there when their tour ends.”
Steve raised a brow. “Doesn’t that kind of… defeat the point of a tour t-shirt?”
“I don’t question corporation's decisions, Stevie; it doesn’t get you anywhere.” Eddie gave him a broad smile and rubbed his hands together, excited. “Should we go in?”
Steve didn’t answer straight away because… Stevie?
Robin seemed eager. “Yeah, let’s go inside. We can’t just stand here and gawk. They might think we’re judging.”
Stevie? Steve thought again before shaking his head. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”
Inside, the manager of the store, a tall goth woman with an immaculate chest and bright white teeth, gave them a warming smile behind her black-painted lips. Surprisingly, Robin immediately took charge and didn’t bumble over her words, not even once. She introduced the three of them and explained that they were looking to all be able to work together in a company local to Hawkins. The manager, who introduced herself as Dana, seemed pleased with the look of both Eddie and Robin but raised a very thinly plucked brow at Steve. He probably did not look at the part and didn’t feel it either.
“So… what’s your story, jock?” she asked.
“Uh… either I get a job or get sent to military school or be disowned… so.” Steve shrugged. “I might not know much about… this stuff, but I am good with customers. These guys are good friends of mine, so I want to stick by them as much as possible.” Eddie stared at him almost alarmingly, but Steve tried to ignore him. He didn’t tell Eddie about his parent’s proposition.
“A jock… a quirky girl” Dana pointed at them individually and winked at Robin knowingly. “And a metalhead… wow, I never thought I would see such a delightfully blended trio in my humble store.”
Steve’s interest was piqued. “You… own this store, ma’am?”
“Dana, please. I’m five years older than you, at the most.” She waved him off but looked proud. “Hell yeah, I own this store. I finally got out of the game, got a loan, and want Hawkins to be a more openly diverse place for everyone. And I mean, everyone.” She yet again looked at Robin but also glanced at Eddie.
What the hell does that mean? Steve wanted to ask but bit his inner lip and decided not to say anything. Maybe she was referencing the fact that Eddie was recently cleared of murdering three high school students. It seemed more likely than anything else, currently swimming in the swarm that was Steve’s train of thought.
But Robin's intrusive thoughts broke through first. “Uhm, the game?” she asked timidly.
Dana smiled, understanding that Robin meant no ill intent by the oblivious question. “The world is cruel to four groups: sex workers; queers, people who don’t follow the status quo; and, of course, people who aren’t white. I fall under three out of the four of those categories.” Robin and Eddie looked as though they instantly understood, and so did Steve, although unlike them, it wasn’t from the experience of falling into one of those categories. Dana clapped her hands together once and carried on with the original topic. “So, y’all want a job, huh? Are you familiar with the roles that I have advertised already?”
They sure were. And thus began the logistics of convincing Dana to hire all three of them at once and to take their word that they are good workers. Robin spoke with her first, and they instantly seemed to get to each other. They happily chatted away at the back of the store, where the office would eventually be built, for almost 15 minutes. Eddie was next, and similarly, the pair chatted with gusto and laughed and joked together. By the end of his ‘interview,’ Dana had promised Eddie she’d listen to Judas Priest when she got home. Then, it was Steve’s turn, and he was instantly nervous.
Dana motioned for Steve to sit down on a stool as she leaned against what would eventually be her desk. She was everything that Steve wasn’t in many ways: she knew what she wanted and carried that with every movement she gave. Every wave of her hand was authoritative and understanding, with full intent. Her voice was firm yet gentle when needed. She was the most put-together person that Steve had ever met – and he’d dated Nancy Wheeler – and that scared the living shit out of him.
“So, jock, tell me something because I am dying to know,” she started, lighting a cigarette, and blowing out the smoke in a thin line that puffed out towards the end. “How did a jock, a metalhead, and a lesbian become friends? You guys seem to be knitted together, completely committed to friendship.”
Steve wrung his hands together and shrugged. “Uh… we all went through the same stuff last year when the earthquake hit. We were all together when it happened, and uhm… yeah, we just stayed friends from there. I knew Robin from before, however. We worked here at the old mall… at Scoops Ahoy.” Dana nodded. “Eddie’s a newer addition to the dynamic. He’s good friends with a friend, and I don’t know, it’s nice to have a friend my age, I guess.”
“You’re ok with who they are as people? Because I don’t tolerate any bullshit like that here, you understand, of course.” Dana hummed to herself, smoking and deep in thought.
Loud and clear, he thought, trying not to bristle at the implication. “Yeah. I, uh, support Robin in everything she does. Eddie is different, sure. Maybe a few years back, we wouldn’t have been friends, but he’s a great guy, and I want the best for him – like all my friends.” He didn’t know why he needed to add that last part. Dana smirked, and Steve blushed in response.
“Tell me, do you know the first thing about alt clothing?” She asked.
Steve decided to be honest. “No,” he admitted. “But I am good at being… good. Like, I know what customers want, how friendly I need to be, and I like making people feel good about their decisions.” He tapped his fingers on his knee in thought. “If there’s one thing I learned over the last four years, it's that you need to understand that everyone likes different things, and if they aren’t causing someone pain? Then you gotta’ accept that.” He shrugged, hoping he had made his point.
Dana took a moment to process that, a grin washing over her face. “Well then, that is good to hear. Hey, you two!” she called Robin and Eddie. “Get’cha asses over here, will you?” They did. Eddie looked nervously at Steve, who shrugged. “I’ve decided to hire all three of you. I like that you’re all weirdly into each other as friends. It’s interesting, and I like interesting.” She grinned toothily. “So… you, Robin, I want you to be my assistant manager. You’re switched on, fun, and kind – but I think you’ll happily whip these boys into shape if I’m not here to do it for you.” Robin’s eyes widened, and she stuttered a ‘thank you!’.
Dana turned to Eddie. “You know the most about the style of the store this is, but the only reason you’re not AM is that you haven’t worked in … normal circumstances, pretty much ever. But you know more about things like this than Joe Montana over here, so you’re my supervisor. Congrats, kid.” Eddie seemed truly bamboozled by this but smiled all the same.
Dana turned to Steve, smiling sympathetically. “I think you’re great, but I think for now, you can have the assistant role with the possibility of being promoted when Robin leaves for college next fall. Think of it as an… experiment. And this way, you don’t have to go to military school or lose last name privileges with your parents.”
The three thanked her, briefly discussing wages, start times, and schedules. Steve then offered to help finish preparing the store, which the other two readily agreed upon. Dana turned to them, looking bashful, as she informed them of a critical piece of information. “I know it is inconvenient, but I will be closing the store for six weeks over the summer if all goes well financially.”
“Wait, why?” Robin asked politely.
Dana smiled. “Renovations. I could only afford basic decoration for now, but if all goes well and business is booming? Summer of 88’ will be for renovating and making sure this is the best alternative clothing store ever to hit Indiana, now and forever.” She grinned but then let it fall. “B-but that might mean….”
“That we don’t get paid for six weeks because it’ll come out of your pocket?” Eddie guessed, although the expression on his face didn’t indicate that he was annoyed by this, and neither was Steve or Robin. Unlike a franchise and corporate business model, they understood that this business was everything Dana had. They could easily find a temporary summer position in the mall until Dana needed them back; no big deal.
Or at least, Steve thought, I hope it isn’t a big deal.
But for now, this job was the make-or-break moment that Steve needed. He nodded. “I’m fine with that. We can help to make this store as cool as possible… and then when the time comes, you can let us know if we need to look for temporary positions for the summer.”
Dana looked relieved as Eddie and Robin hummed in agreement. “Thank God…” she breathed out. “Ok… I’ll write up the contracts tonight, and we’ll get those signed for tomorrow!” She stood up straight, clapping her hands together before offering one to each of them in turn. “Welcome to Abyss!”
++
Later, Steve was sat in a diner parking lot in Eddie’s van, both eating the greasiest burgers imaginable in lieu of celebration. Robin wasn’t with them as she had a date with Vickie, and they’d both been warned not to call her under any circumstances unless someone was dying, maybe not even then. So, Steve suggested food, and Eddie agreed.
Eddie slurped on his soda and sighed happily, patting his belly, which looked no different than when he hadn’t eaten. His metabolism truly knew no boundaries. He turned down the music they’d been listening to, a mixture of both Steve and Eddie’s personal favorites, and said happily, “I can’t believe it, Harrington… I got a nine till five… Jesus. What is this life I suddenly lead?”
Steve smirked as he chewed the last bite of his burger and licked his fingers. “You did great, man. I’m proud of you.” He wiped his hand with a napkin and slurped his drink contently.
“Proud of me, eh? I bet you tell all your friends who nearly died and finally got their shit together.” Eddie grinned, stealing a stray fry off Steve’s paper plate.
“Oh, of course, but I only mean it when it’s you.” Steve winked and chuckled. Eddie smirked and shook his head, sipping quietly on his soda. “Nah, for real, man, I am proud of you. I was worried about you earlier, you seem distant lately, so I wanted to ensure you did this. I think it’ll be good for you.”
“Yeah?” Eddie smiled weakly but then frowned at his lap. “It’s just been hard, man; I know it’s been hard for everyone but… I guess I’m just not used to the whole ‘hey, there's an alternate universe, and oh, there are man-eating bat creatures that will eventually bite your leg almost clean off’ thing yet.”
Steve nodded, understanding. Although his injuries weren’t as severe as Eddie’s, he did understand that healing from these sorts of things wasn’t entirely physical. It was the emotional drain, the exhaustion, and the overall feeling of things ‘creeping’ around you that was difficult to overcome. “Do you have nightmares?” he asked softly, swirling the remains of his coke in his soda cup.
Eddie glanced at him and then at the diner in front of them, the pink and teal lighting shining through, highlighting the shape of his face and hair strands. His eyes glistened painfully as he seemed lost in thought, then he blinked and looked to his knees. “Ya know what’s insane? I don’t think I’ve ever had a nightmare about what happened to me since coming out of physio… the only thing I seem to dream about… is her.”
Steve knew who ‘her’ was. Chrissy. The girl Eddie obviously at some point had a crush on. Or, at the very least, deeply cared about. Chrissy, the girl who smiled at everyone, didn’t judge cruelly. Nothing about her was malicious… just… curious. She was a curious girl that, much Steve knew from his brief interactions with her at parties. Always asking the most innocent yet in-depth questions he’d ever heard anyone ask. Of course, her gruesome, horrible death – would leave a mental scar on the person who last saw her alive… last saw her smiling.
“She – in the dream – is upset at me. That I didn’t save her, that I ran away out of fear… I know she would never say those things, that it’s just all I say to myself daily. But some small part of me wonders if I’m upset that she wouldn’t be pissed at me, that she would understand. I would rather her be pissed. Angry. Seething… But it scares me to think that the only important person in my life that blames me for what happened to her… is myself.” He seemed lost, his eyes glazing over with tears. “S-sorry I uh… spoilt the mood there, Harrington.” His voice was cracking despite his efforts to stop it from happening.
Steve rested his hand on Eddie’s for the third time that day and squeezed it tightly. His rings were cool against Steve’s skin, and Steve found himself tracing the metal with his fingers over the array of shapes. Steve finally spoke when Eddie looked up at him. “I meant what I said earlier, Eddie. You need to give yourself a goddamn break. You deserve so much more, man. You are among the smartest, kindest people I know, and you deserve to find a way to make yourself… yourself again.” He smiled. “I just hope you’ll want me around to find that with you.”
Eddie swallowed, briefly glancing at their clasped hands and then back at Steve. Steve did the same and looked at Eddie, his heart thumping suddenly, nervously… what? Steve caught himself, confused. Why am I nervous? When he glanced at their hands again and then back at Eddie, he saw Eddie staring right at him. His eyes were searching for something, a cue of some kind, what exactly – or what it would lead to – Steve didn’t know.
Are you ok with who they are as people? Dana had asked him earlier. She’d meant the fact he was a metalhead and liked alternative stuff, Steve had thought. His brow creased slightly as he tried to question whether there was more to her query.
And then it clicked, or at least something did. Yeah… I am ok with that. Steve thought, of course, I am.
“Steve… um… am I…” Eddie mumbled. He shifted closer as they talked, and Steve found himself leaning into him. He could smell the pickles on Eddie’s breath, which, as weird as it sounded, wasn’t gross at all. He could also smell the leather of his jacket, the faint smell of cigarettes and cologne. Steve leaned in a little more. He wanted to smell more of it… he… Eddie was so close now. Steve could feel the tickling sensation of Eddie's breath against his cheek. Shit… are we…?
BANG!
Steve jumped and gasped, his head whirling hard and thumping. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, and his throat closed. What? He jerked away from Eddie to see a cat running out of a metal trash can towards the bushes. The can rolled around, making a grating noise against the cold gravel. Understanding the source of the commotion didn’t calm Steve’s heart, in any case. Not for a second.
He couldn’t see well now. The sound had triggered something in his brain. A resounding rhythmic thud pulsated through his temples. Eddie wasn’t the only one who got nightmares… but Steve’s nightmares didn’t bother to restrict themselves to his sleep. Instead, he had obnoxious and creeping attacks that came from nowhere and didn’t leave until they wanted to. He needed to get out of the van… he needed air.
“Steve? Are- Where are you going, Steve!” Eddie called after him, but Steve was out of Eddie’s van and crawling to the bushes behind it to retch up the cheeseburger that he’d only just eaten. The world was spinning; he was spinning, he was sure of it… where was he? Why was he outside?
“Stevie?” Eddie was beside him now, rubbing his back and pulling his bandana from his head for him to wipe his mouth with. “Do you need me to get you anything?”
“Don’t leave!” Steve gasped through his tight throat, “Pl-please don’t leave me right now.” He started to sob, his voice sounding raw from the acid left in his throat from throwing up. Eddie sat beside him and held him close. He rubbed Steve’s back again, comforting him and slowly returning him to grounded reality. After minutes passed, he finally, Steve felt like he could breathe. “S-sorry…”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Steve… you had a panic attack. I’m just glad you’re ok!” Eddie said comfortingly, pressing his fingers into the back of Steve’s neck in a gesture that both grounded and reassured him. “I’m going to leave for two seconds, ok? I’m just going to grab your soda so you can wash your mouth out a little, yeah?” He did so and was back within thirty seconds of leaving, settling back on the floor beside Steve. Steve drank the remains of his soda, washing some around his mouth and spitting before drinking the rest. Eddie fished the ice out of the empty cup and used it to cool the back of Steve’s neck. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one who… had those. Y’know, out of the party.”
Steve took a shaky breath and shook his head. “L-loud noises like that set it all off for me for some reason. I hate the 4th of July for that very reason… amongst other things.”
“Mine is when it is too quiet… Like I swear I hear him… the clock.” Eddie shuddered. “How are you feeling now? Do you think you can manage to get back into the van? I can drive you home?”
“No… I don’t want to be at home right now. I would be alone….”
Eddie thought for a moment. “I could sleep at your place? Would that help? Your parents are out of town, right?”
Steve nodded.
“I’ll use the guest room and fight off any cats going into trash bins all night,” he said. Steve let out a laugh.
“See, you look so much better already.” Eddie's eyes, still concerned, made Steve's heart flutter. Either that or expelling every nutritious thing in his body did that. He didn't know.
“Ok… yeah,” Steve mumbled, suddenly exhausted. “Sure… guest bedroom… sounds good.”
“Ok?”
Steve looked at him and smiled weakly. “Ok.”