Inbox (The City)

[hairsprayed]

USERNAME: steveh Steve Harrington Stranger Things TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO • ACTION • OVERFLOW

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text 🦇 un; banished

[guitarpicks]

STEVE

THS IS IMPORTANT

text | un: steveh

[hairsprayed]

Are you ok??? What happened?????

[guitarpicks]

WHAT KIND OF QUeSTION IS THAT

we need to think of secret code words to use with each other in case this place does some freaky-deaky clone shit

or this is all a vecna fueled mind game [ is it safe to use the phones this place provided if that's the case? no. but someone's tapped into their own weed stash. ]

[hairsprayed]

It's the kind of question I ask when people are getting murdered!!!

Clones? You think something like that could happen? [ Being here does seem like the kind of situation that would benefit from having code words, though. He'll admit that later. ]

If it's Vecna, he's taking his sweet fucking time. We've been here for a month already.

[guitarpicks]

by other people
that's like the most normal part of this shit

why couldn't it happen here?

maybe he's playing the long game, you know?

[hairsprayed]

Vecna used to be just a person.

We don't know anything about this place yet. It might just be a normal empty city. Right?

I don't want to think about that. [ But, unfortunately, he should. ] We should find a music store.

[guitarpicks]

yeah with crazy powers

a normal empty city with no animals, no corpses, no nothing. right. normal. totallllllly normal.

think of a code word and we can go looking for a music store. [ he had goals here, okay?! ] but don't send it to me here.

[hairsprayed]

Ok then why would there be clones if there aren't other people or even animals?

How are we going to know that some weirdo mind reader won't just be able to figure out the code word?

[guitarpicks]

[ these are all good points, steve.... shhh. ] because that'd be some fucked up shit i'd do as a DM

like an empty city? clones of the people there showing up would FUCK up a campaign. how do you know which member of your party is the real one? huh?

it has to be a really fucking good code word then and not obvious!

[hairsprayed]

You're not seriously treating this shit like one of your games, are you?

Yeah ok whatever. Guess it doesn't hurt to try it. Better not get us killed though.

[guitarpicks]

haven't the D&D analogies not worked for upside down shit? why not here.

i have an idea--- meet me in the hallway in like 10? [ also he's pretty sure they're dead, steve, so like... can they get more dead? ]

[hairsprayed]

Only because I was surrounded by nerds. We could have called Vecna Hilter instead.

15, I was getting out of the shower when you messaged me.

action

[thefreak]

( For as cowardly as Eddie claims to be, even he has to admit that a coward wouldn't face his problems head-on like this. Even if said problem is reconciling with Steve Harrington after the haunted house had left them both shaken to their very core.

Eddie is not likely to forget that anytime soon: the way Steve looked at him like he was some kind of monster, how nothing seemed to convince him that he knew Eddie and that Eddie was a friend, that he wouldn't hurt Steve.

He also won't forget the souvenirs Steve must have walked away with, assuming he did walk away. Eddie wants to believe that's what happened, as it's a better thought than thinking someone else came by to finish the job. He shudders at that possibility before shoving that thought not so gently away so he can focus on the task at hand: convincing Steve to open his damn door.

He starts with a simple knock, but is there really anything simple to it? The rhythm that he knocks out sounds deceptively like a song. )

Steve, I know you're there. ( Only because Eddie hasn't really left his apartment that much lately either, but that's beside the point. ) Please, just...can I come in? At least let me, um. Let me take a look at that nasty cut on your hand?

[hairsprayed]

[ As much as Steve hates to admit it, even to himself, he's been hiding for most of the month. His experiences in the haunted house, both as the hunted and the hunter, have stuck with him and made it difficult to come to terms with being such an active victim in more of the city's sick games. Sure, he's seen some shit and had to protect himself from monsters in the past, but nothing has even involved such mind games; he'd been convinced he'd fought some kind of ghost until reaching the 'party' on the third floor and hearing the stories others had shared. Even seeing Eddie just before passing out had felt like an illusion until Steve learned the truth of what had happened.

Even now, Steve isn't sure what the truth is and what might have been a horrible hallucination. He'd certainly been chased by things that looked like other residents as well as ghoulish creatures, so who's to say Steve hadn't been pushed into chasing down Eddie? It's reason enough to avoid him, to stay in his apartment for days on end and only sneaking out to get more food from the convenience store downstairs. He hasn't seen Will, either, nor anyone he'd been building tentative ties with. It's for the best that no one else from Hawkins is stuck here, but it also means that Steve feels more alone than ever.

The knock on his door isn't totally unexpected. Eddie is just like Dustin in the ways that he can't ignore something, even if it's probably for his own good to let sleeping dogs lie. Steve sighs but doesn't say anything, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but instead, Eddie speaks up. He could continue to pretend like he isn't home, wait it out to see which one of them cracks first, but... he wants to see Eddie, if only to know that he's okay.

Pulling his hands over his face, he gets up from the couch and pads barefoot to the door. He hasn't bothered with styling his hair or dressing to impress, so he's wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants combination when he opens the door and looks Eddie in the eye for a moment before lowering his gaze to his shoulder. ] Hey, uh, you don't have to bother. It's fine.

[thefreak]

( It's weird to see Steve like this. Even when Steve was injured and wearing Eddie's vest, he still had an energy, a vibe to him that made Eddie want to keep fighting. Now, it's like...it's like Steve has given up. It's like their roles have reversed, where now Eddie is trying to convince Steve to keep moving forward, that there's a way out of this.

This is easy to say, but in practice, Eddie knows it will not be easy to get Steve to see eye-to-eye. This place has a habit of tearing people down. Hell, Eddie almost gave up on reaching out to Steve, but his own pep talk with Loki had been enough to make him consider giving it one last try.

It feels like an almost impossible task now that Eddie is here. Steve just looks and sounds so drained. )

I know I don't have to, but I want to. You're still my friend and I...shit, I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. If you want me to leave after, I will.

[hairsprayed]

[ He'd been determined to see Eddie and then turn him away, but to hear him still referred to as a friend... Steve is only human, and he's lonely. It's been a self-inflicted punishment to stay indoors and not see anyone for the past few weeks, but that doesn't mean it's been easy. Steve is social by nature, used to be surrounded by friends and admirers—his fall from grace had been hard, but he'd had Nancy, then Dustin, then Robin. Even if it's far from the parties he'd gone to in the past, at least knowing that his friends now are the real deal could make up for the small numbers.

Then in the city, he'd been kind of alone since the start. He's reached out to Will, but the younger teen was far more independent than Steve had expected him to be. And it had been hard to trust strangers, as much as Steve had been friendly with the people he'd met; some of the other residents came and went so quickly that it was hard to keep ties, though. So to know that Eddie still considers Steve his friend, even after what happened in the haunted house? Yeah, that breaks down his resolve and gets Steve to open the door wider for Eddie to come inside. ]

I should be the one checking on you. [ Stepping backward, he walks over to a couch and sits down. ] Are you... Did I hurt you?

[thefreak]

( Flashes of that evening rush through Eddie's mind, of the many ways that night could have gone horribly wrong for both of them. Eddie managed to escape unscathed, but Steve? Steve wasn't so lucky. )

No, I'm fine. I mean. Aside from the whole mindfuckery around having to, you know. Fight you. ( Eddie frowns as he follows Steve inside and takes a seat next to him, pulling one leg up onto the cushion while the other stretches out across the floor. He shifted so that he was turned towards Steve, giving him his full attention. )

I had to hit you with a paint can, dude. It was...very uncool. ( He shakes his head and reaches a hand out for Steve's. ) You almost nicked me with a shard of glass, but I was quicker. I think that glass did you more damage than anything else.

[hairsprayed]

Fight me because I attacked you.

[ That's all there is to it in Steve's mind. It didn't matter who hurt who in the end, or what had driven Steve into that state—he'd been the aggressor in the end, even if he thought the opposite was true at the time.

Sighing and looking down at his hand, bandaged fairly well considering he'd done it one-handed and tightened the knot with his teeth, he shifts it to rest on his outer thigh where he can't see it as a reminder of that night. Eddie takes it before it gets very far, though, and Steve fights the instinct to pull it away. He's always had to take care of his own injuries that came from fighting the Upside Down and its horrors, even if Nancy could bandage him up initially. Robin was useless, more likely to rant about infections or get woozy from the sight of a wound. ]

Yeah, you had to hit me. [ He stresses the word as he lets the full weight of his hand relax into Eddie's. ] You were just protecting yourself from a crazy jerk.

[thefreak]

( Eddie closes his eyes and draws out a sigh. He remembers it vividly, the fear in Steve's eyes. At first, it had hurt to see that kind of fear turned towards him, but when he realized that Steve couldn't understand anything he said, he could discern that something weird was happening. Talking to Loki only compounded that notion. )

You weren't -- you weren't a crazy jerk. Whatever happened to you, that wasn't you. Or, I don't know, but I know you weren't seeing me. I know you wouldn't have attacked me if you knew it was me.

( He takes Steve's hand and gingerly undoes the wrapping. At least Steve bothered to bandage it at all. Unlike Eddie when he first arrived in the city and had been so reckless as to leave his wounds without bandages because what was the point?.

Since then, this place has become a home. It was a strange home, but a home nonetheless, and it motivated him to keep living, even if this life wasn't anywhere near the type he would have lived back in Hawkins. All this time of not talking to Steve, he worried that Steve would have welcomed death or punishment much like Eddie once had. )

Doesn't look too bad. ( He smiles sadly up at Steve, brushing his fingers gently across his palm but avoiding the jagged lines of a still-healing wound. ) You clean it first? Maybe I should clean it anyway, just in case.

[hairsprayed]

[ Steve remains silent, unwilling to argue since he knows that Eddie isn't going to understand it. Even if he hadn't know that the thing in the haunted house with him was Eddie, that didn't mean he hadn't been trying to kill it... him. He's grateful that Eddie had been able to knock him out and knock some sense into him, enough to stagger his way to an exit, but things could have gone so differently. Beyond the what ifs, though, are the images Steve has in his head of pinning Eddie to a wall, glass at his throat, terror and betrayal in Eddie's eyes. Steve hadn't been able to see his face, but that doesn't mean he can't imagine his reactions.

Fingers across his palm bring him back to the present with a shiver, his fingers flexing even though Eddie hasn't touched the wound that will surely scar. ] I've gotten used to doing first aid. [ Looking up at Eddie, he sees the remnants of that smile before looking away. ] I was going to clean it today... You can, if you want. I owe you more than that.

[thefreak]

( It had been the best possible way their encounter could have ended. Both encounters he had in that damn haunted house resulted in him having to knock his attackers out, but if one of them had to die... For as much guilt as Eddie brings with him at having to give Steve another concussion, he knows that it could have been worse.

He nods as he gives Steve's hand a gentle squeeze before hopping up and motioning for Steve to join him. ) To the bathroom, then. I'll have you feeling and looking good as new in no time. ( He holds out a hand for Steve to take, his face displaying a mixture of sympathy and hopefulness. If they can just get past this, if everything can go back to the closest thing to normal... )

[hairsprayed]

[ Eddie's words bring a faint flush to Steve's cheeks, and he runs his uninjured hand through his hair like he's just realizing he probably looks like shit. Compared to how Eddie's seen him, either cleaned up and coiffed or gritty and battle-ready—this current state is something new and vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, he stands to follow Eddie to the small bathroom. He only hesitates a moment before giving him his hand again with a nod. ] Alright, I'm yours, doc.

[thefreak]

( It's all too easy for Eddie to feel himself transported back to the Upside Down, where Steve had far worse injuries and Nancy Wheeler had been the person to tend to Steve's wounds. He thought it would have left a sour taste in his mouth, a jealous one, but he recognizes how far they've both come since then.

He lets one more beat pass before taking Steve's hand and striving to be as gentle as possible as he cleans it carefully yet thoroughly. Once he deems it clean enough, he applies a bandage to it and then wraps some gauze to keep it in place, brushing a thumb across the finished product. )

There, good as new. ( His lips twitch as if he's not sure if he should be smiling or frowning. He feels accomplished, having been able to help Steve, but he also doesn't want this moment to end so soon, fearful that Steve will continue to shut him out. ) Hey, you know I've volunteered to be one of the musical acts at this, uh. Gala? Prom? Thing? At the Planetarium. You should come.

special delivery (12/25)

[thefreak]

( At some point on the 25th, Steve will come across a package wrapped surprisingly well, considering Eddie's usual brand of chaos. Inside is a hardcover sketchbook filled to the brim with a mixture of lazy doodling, song lyrics, and a more classical style depicting things from back home -- Hawkins. One page has a portrait of Robin (at least as Eddie remembers her) and something that's probably supposed to be a trumpet, but who can really tell? The opposite side has Dustin wearing his thinking cap and Weird Al shirt -- you get the picture. (Probably) unsurprisingly, there is more than one page to feature Steve, and some of the song lyrics are less veering towards metal and more...sappy. Huh, interesting.

Sitting next to this package, Mr. Squiggles is wearing a Santa hat, and there's a lengthy note written on the front and back of an index card attached to a ribbon around its neck: )

Hey Stevie,
I knew I wanted to get you something, but I wasn't sure what. It felt like everything that I considered wasn't enough for what I wanted to say. Which is thanks for everything. You didn't have to help with trying to clear my name or help get me situated here, but you did, and without expecting anything in return. I guess I've grown kind of cynical, but enough people letting you down will do that to you.

You never let me down. Not even that shit with the haunted house. It feels like this kind of shit deserves more than just a nice bottle of wine or bourbon or some crap. Then I got to thinking. This sketchbook started out with less of a purpose, but I knew, even though there's so much about that place we called home that I loathe to my very core, I didn't want to forget the people who made even the worst week of my life bearable. And I don't know about you, but the more time that we're here, the harder it is to remember.

And Mr. Squiggles here just wanted to remind you that you're very brave even when facing your fears. Sometimes, I think we could all use that kind of reminder.

Merry Christmas, Steve. I might not have more mistletoe, but maybe cracking open a beer and playing shitty Christmas music from memory would entice you to come visit? Just a thought.
--em.

this isn't real but

[hairsprayed]