Chapter Text
“Scene is secured Chief, and the suspects are in custody,” Officer Callahan said, moving to stand beside Hopper as the older man surveyed the scene before him.
Red and blue lights flashed ominously against the white exterior of the house that appeared so innocent on the outside but like something out of a gore-fest horror film on the inside. The seemingly normal home had flown under the radar within their community, no one had ever thought they had their very own house of horrors in their neighbourhood.
He felt irrationally angry at them all, every single goddamn neighbour who hadn't batted an eye, who had let this slide for so long.
Mostly, though, he was furious at himself. He’d been inside that house many times, breaking up house parties and dropping off the kids there - all without knowing what was going on behind closed doors. He wondered if the kids had any idea about the truth.
“Chief?” Callahan prompted, looking for further instructions.
“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, removing his hat to run a hand through his thinning hair. “Did you read them their rights?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Alright, why don't you and Jones go ahead and transport them to the department? Just don't question them yet; let them stew for a bit.”
“You don't want to be the one to speak with them?” Callahan asked, although, from the tone of his voice and the pity in his eyes, it seemed as though he was aware of the answer.
“I don’t think I’d be able to control myself,” Hopper said honestly, noting the twitching of curtains as neighbours peered nosily at the events unfolding in their quaint cul-de-sac. Where were the nosy fuckers when a boy was brutally injured for hours? “Besides, I have a few phone calls to make.”
Callahan nodded, “‘course.”
“Make sure you cross every ‘t’ and dot every ‘i’, Callahan,” Hopper warned. “They’ve got money, lawyers, and no morales. We need to make these convictions stick. Especially if-”
“Yes, Sir,” Callahan said, not needing Hopper to finish the thought they were all thinking.
Hopper turned away to stare at the empty spot on the road that the ambulance had recently vacated. Despite knowing it was impossible, the sirens that had screamed their way down the road towards the hospital were still ringing in his ears - a ghost of the horror that had occurred.
He turned his back on the house of horrors; on the blood that had pooled and soaked into the cream carpets, on the glass vase that had been shattered and the shards of glass that were glistening with red, on the pale face that didn't even twitch when Hopper had screamed his name, on the bullet casings that littered the floor around the too still body.
He took a deep breath, sighed, and walked to his cruiser, wishing he could leave behind the memories of what he’d seen in that house too. As the engine roared to life he was struck by the familiar feeling of dread as he prepared himself to give bad news to family members.
-
“Ah, balls,” Wayne muttered to himself as he shifted on his recliner only for the TV remote to fall off the arm and land somewhere down the side.
He half-debated the idea of shouting on Eddie to come and grab it for him but he couldn't deny that doing so would be the epitome of laziness, even if his boy had been sleeping for the last sixteen hours. So, bracing a supporting hand against his bad leg, he started fishing for it himself, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.
It was a familiar rap, one that brought back memories of his raggedy teenager being dragged home at all hours of the night like a damned feral cat after getting into trouble with the law. Thankfully the owner of that solid knock had a soft spot for harmless troublemakers and often would return Eddie home to Wayne without making him pay any fines or post bail.
Limping slightly on his bad leg, Wayne made his way towards the door.
“Chief,” he said upon opening the door, nodding respectfully.
“Wayne,” Hopper said and something in his voice made a pit form in Wayne’s stomach. It was dread, he realised.
“Do I need to wake Eddie?” Wayne asked, noting the serious expression on Hopper’s face.
“Might be best to,” Hopper said with a nod.
“Alright, you mind waiting through there?” Wayne asked, nodding his head towards their living room. As Hopper nodded and turned to leave Wayne couldn't help but speak up again, “Hop? Is he in trouble?”
“Huh?” Hopper seemed confused by the question.
“Eddie,” Wayne clarified. “Has he done something?”
“Oh,” Hopper said with a frown. “No, nothing like that, just bring him through so I can speak with you both.”
“Right,” Wayne muttered, more to himself than Hopper.
If it wasn't Eddie then what? Steve wasn't really one to get into legal trouble other than those house parties he used to throw during his school years. A blatant cry for help if Wayne had ever seen one, not that he would have jumped to that conclusion back then - he probably would’ve said it was just rich kids flaunting their money.
“Ed?” he knocked on his nephew’s door and pushed it open only to see his nephew splayed on his front in his boxers and one of Steve’s soft sweaters. He didn't so much as shift in his sleep. “Eddie.”
Speaking louder did the trick and Eddie shuffled before blinking blearily up at the door Wayne was standing in.
“Wha’?” his voice was thick with sleep.
“Come on, Son, Hopper is here, he wants to speak with us both,” Wayne said.
“Huh?” Eddie sat up, his hair a bird’s nest on his head. “Hopper? But I haven't done anything.”
“I know, he says no one is in trouble,” Wayne said as calmly as he could around the sick knot that was forming in his stomach.
Eddie jumped to his feet suddenly enough that he made Wayne flinch in the doorway, “is it Steve? Is he hurt?”
“Hurt?” Wayne echoed, immediately feeling guilty that he hadn't also jumped to that line of thought.
Steve was one of his boys, how could he forget that Hopper would visit to inform them if something had happened? Especially since Wayne knew that Steve had spoken with Hopper about putting him down as a second point of contact after Wayne in case he ended up in the hospital.
“Is Steve alright?” Eddie repeated.
“I- I don't know, Son.”
Wayne didn't take it personally when Eddie shouldered past him to storm into the living room where Hopper was standing awkwardly. And to give him his due, the Chief barely batted an eye at the frantic, messy-haired boy who appeared in his boxers rapidly firing off question after question before Hopper even had a chance to answer any of them.
It was the last question that stuck with Wayne, Eddie’s frantic voice asking, “shit, is that blood?”
Sure enough, there were large dark reddish-brown stains across Hopper’s uniform and his hands were covered in the dried remnants of flaking blood.
“Why don't we all have a seat?” Wayne suggested, taking the lead and sitting on the edge of the chair he’d only just vacated. He didn't care to admit that the lack of knowledge of what had happened and the dried bloodstains covering Hopper were making him feel a little weak and unsure.
He could see that Eddie didn't want to sit down, his boy would probably have rather shaken the information out of Hopper, but out of respect for Wayne, he did as requested, soon to be followed by Hopper.
“Lay it on us, Chief,” Wayne said calmly.
“Alright,” Hopper muttered. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and made careful eye contact with Wayne. “Earlier this morning we were alerted to a domestic disturbance in Lake Nora. Neighbours said they’d heard shouting and screaming for the past few hours.”
“Hours?” Eddie repeated quietly.
“They hadn't thought much of it, figured it was none of their business and then they heard gunshots,” Wayne’s stomach bottomed out and he thought he was going to vomit all over his floor. “We got there pretty quick and… it wasn't pretty. Steve’s parents made a surprise visit and found him packing all his things.”
“They weren't meant to be home today,” Eddie said weakly.
“They haven't said why they decided to drop by but from what we can get out of them they came home in the middle of Steve packing, his car was half-full of boxes and there were only a few more in his room to bring out.”
“What did Steve say about it?” Wayne asked, his thoughts lingering on the gunshots and lack of information about Steve’s whereabouts now. Not to mention the blood .
“Well, that’s the thing,” Hopper said. “Steve’s in a bad way. We don't know the full details but he’s suffered a vicious assault and has two gunshot wounds. I’m here to take you guys up to the hospital to see him.”
“That’s his blood,” Eddie realised.
“Yeah, Son, it is,” Hopper confirmed. “He lost a lot of blood on scene, the ambulance crew were giving him a transfusion as they left.”
“But he’s alive?” Eddie asked, voice weak and breaking as he said ‘alive’.
“He was when he left the house,” Hopper confirmed. “I don't have any updates from the hospital yet, but he was breathing.”
Silence permeated the room before Eddie suddenly jumped up, tears in his eyes, “well, come on then, what are you waiting for? We need to go and see him now.”
Hopper glanced at Eddie’s bare legs and then at Wayne.
“Son, go put some pants on and pack Steve a bag, alright? Then we’ll go,” Wayne said gently. “Make sure you grab his favourite jumper and comfy pants, none of those jeans, alright?”
“Right, clothes, ok, clothes, I can do that,” Eddie muttered speeding off. There was a clattering sound that would have normally been followed by a ‘shit, Eds, careful’ but instead was followed by silence.
Wayne couldn't stand the thought of that silence being a permanent fixture. They needed Steve to be alright.
Once he had left, Wayne turned to Hopper, “alright, give it to me straight, not cop to citizen, I want to hear the truth - dad to dad.”
Hopper nodded, “it’s really fucking bad, Wayne, the kid’s in a rough way. They’ve definitely beaten him for hours - probably the entire time the neighbours heard fighting. He had bruises and lacerations all over his body and I don't know why a gun was brought into play but it was and he’s taken a bullet to the shoulder and to the abdomen, all things considered, that was lucky. There were significantly more bullet casings on scene, so they were either trying to scare him or they missed. He was breathing but he wasn't alert and no matter how damn hard I tried, he wouldn't open his eyes.”
Wayne’s head dropped into his hands and he shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes to try and stop the burning there, he needed to stay strong for his boys, they needed him.
“Shit,” Wayne muttered. “They weren't meant to be home, I was gonna go with him but he said it was only a few boxes and since it was my only day off he told me to just rest and catch up on last week's game so he would finally be able to talk about it with someone who didn't start ‘waxing poetry about jocks and conformity’.”
“Don't blame yourself for this,” Hopper said, immediately seeming to know where Wayne’s thoughts were going.
“How can I not?” Wayne asked. “I told the kid I’d be there for him, told him that if his parents gave him any grief I’d introduce them to Bessie.”
Hopper had met Bessie not long after Eddie had come to stay with Wayne. It was the first time his boy had been dragged home at three in the morning by the scruff of his neck and Wayne hadn't been expecting early morning visitors so he’d opened the door and shoved Bessie in their faces - safety on, of course.
“You couldn't have known they'd do this,” Hopper said, trying to appease him but only succeeding in doing the opposite.
“I could have though, I’ve patched that boy up after his father fucking whipped him,” Wayne admitted. “If anyone should have known they’d try an’ kill him-”
Wayne broke off with a sob that accidentally escaped him.
“Come on, Wayne, pull yourself together before Eddie gets back, he 's gonna be rushing in there,” Hopper said, not unkindly. “This is no one’s fault but his shithead parents, alright? Nobody knew they’d be home today and I doubt Steve even knew there was a gun in the house.”
“He’s not one for guns,” Wayne agreed, trying to hold himself together when it felt as though he was dying inside.
One of his kids was hurt. He’d sworn to himself that he would protect Steve with the same ferocity that he did Eddie and he’d failed. He should have been there, he shouldn't have let himself be talked out of going.
“Exactly,” Hopper said before sighing. “It’s honestly not even the gunshot wounds that are worrying me the most, but the head trauma.”
Wayne knew that there would be head injuries if his parents had gone to town beating him but he hadn't thought about it as something that would be worse than a bullet hole.
“Why’s that?”
“The kid has had some serious head injuries in the past,” Hopper admitted. “To the point where he was warned about any further ones causing permanent damage.”
“Fuck,” Wayne said.
Thankfully his bleak thoughts were interrupted by Eddie appearing in the doorway with a bulging backpack over his shoulder. “Come on, what are you guys waiting for?”
“You,” Wayne muttered under his breath, not that Eddie would have heard as he was already outside.
By the time they made it outside, Eddie was standing beside the cruiser talking to the fiery red-head kid. She spotted them immediately and said something too quiet for anyone but Eddie to hear before taking off towards her trailer.
“What was that?” Wayne asked as they approached.
“Just Max wondering why Hop’s here,” Eddie said.
“Uh huh,” Hopper muttered. “Sure that conversation wasn't to issue an alert to all of Steve’s little gremlins?”
“Will and El are part of those gremlins you know,” Eddie said, neither confirming nor denying the accusation as he clambered into the back seat of the cruiser, not even arguing for the front like he used to on the late-night rides home Hopper used to give him - he’d ended up relenting back then, damn his soft heart.
“Will and El would try to claim to be his favourite gremlins,” Hopper retorted, trying to keep the topic light and everyone’s minds off the matter at hand. It wasn't very effective as he flicked the cruiser’s lights and siren on as soon as they pulled out of the trailer park to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
It was a sobering reminder of how critical Steve’s condition was.
Wayne kept casting furtive glances in the rearview mirror at his nephew’s pale face and red-rimmed eyes. Fuck, what would he do if Steve didn't make it? His heart rejected the idea that that was a possibility but his brain knew that his and Eddie’s lives would be forever changed if they lost that boy.
If the worst happened, how would he face Eddie knowing that if he’d just done as he should have and gone with Steve they might not have lost him? His nephew would forgive him, he knew he would because he was too good , but the problem was Wayne would know that he didn't deserve that forgiveness.
He should have gone with him.
He felt it in the very core of his soul - the deep, intense regret and wish to turn back time and change the course of fate.
He should have gone with him.
-
“ You're next of kin?” The doctor asked with surprise.
Wayne didn't let himself feel offended at her shock. If you’d told him a few years ago that one day he would be declaring himself Steve Harrington’s emergency contact in a hospital waiting room full of people he would have said you were living where the trains don't stop. Yet, there he was. Steve Harrington’s next of kin, primary contact, emergency contact, the person Steve wanted to be informed if anything happened to him.
The person Steve trusted with his health and wellbeing.
Eddie had bristled at the doctor’s words and he could sense his lad was preparing to call her out of her rudeness, so he placed a calming hand on his shoulder and gave the doctor his most charming smile.
“Yes, ma’am, you should see it on his paperwork,” Wayne said. “Wayne Munson, I have ID if you need it.”
“Alright,” she said dubiously, flicking through the papers on the clipboard in her hands. She paused, eyes widening, and looked between the paper and Wayne a few times before letting the sheets flop back into place. “I suppose you are.”
Wayne nodded, vividly remembering when Steve had asked him to be his next of kin. He didn't think it was a day he’d ever forget…
-
“Wayne?” Wayne’s head jolted up and the denial that he was falling asleep was already forming on his lips when he realised that it was Steve who had spoken, not Eddie, and what's more… the boy hadn't called him ‘Sir’.
“You alrigh’, Son?” Wayne asked, nodding at the sofa so the boy would stop standing there nervously twiddling his thumbs at him.
“Yeah, I uh- wanted to ask you something,” Steve said, sitting carefully on the seat furthest away like he was preparing to do a runner.
“Knock yourself out,” Wayne said with a nod as he leaned back and lit a cigarette.
“So, um, I really appreciate you guys letting me stay here and I don’t want to add anything more to your plate or be a burden,” Steve mumbled.
“Spit it out, son, worst I can do is say no to whatever you're away to ask,” Wayne said, his eyes and words gentle, not that Steve was making eye contact.
“Well, the last few times I’ve been admitted to hospital my parents were called but either didn't answer or didn't bother to coem or call,” Steve admitted. Bastards , Wayne thought idly. “I was just wondering if - with your permission - next time I update my details, would you mind being my first contact in an emergency?”
A well of emotion rushed through Wayne.
Here was Steve, a neglected and abused boy who was terrified of stepping a toe out of line and having yet another adult dislike and hurt him, reaching out and showing unadulterated trust.
“You don't have to of course,” Steve rambled, mistaking Wayne’s silence as a ‘no’. “It’s a big ask and I’m kinda intruding and-”
“Steve, take a breath,” Wayne interrupted. He waited until the boy did as he’d instructed before continuing. “It would be my honour to be your emergency contact.”
“Really?”
“Really, Son,” Wayne said, taking a drag of his cigarette and trying not to feel that familiar flare of anger at the elder Harringtons as Steve’s face lit up in surprised joy.
“Thanks, Wayne!” Steve said, jumping to his feet. “Imma go tell Eddie. He told me you’d be fine with it, I owe him a movie of his choice.”
“Have fun, Kid.”
-
“Sir?” the doctor prompted, making Wayne realise that she must have been speaking to him.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “What was that?”
“It’s alright, it’s a stressful time,” she said. “I was just saying, why don't I take you somewhere a little more private to update you on Steven?”
“Steve,” Eddie interrupted, knee bouncing uncontrollably. “Call him Steve, he hates being called Steven.”
“Alright, why don't I update you on Steve?”
“Please,” Wayne said, standing to follow her.
He was struck by the thought that it was the moment of no return. As they followed her through the halls, they were walking towards a new future. Whatever she had to tell them would likely alter the course of their lives forever.
He placed a gentle, supporting hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
He should have fucking been there.