There's no hurry. [ Except there kind of is, now that the Vecna brain worm has wiggled its way back into Steve's brain. He'd thought that this might be one of his sick tricks when first waking up here, but he'd pushed the thought aside in favor of focusing on things that he could actually handle: finding friends, setting up a place to stay, not dying. Eddie talking about Vecna has reawoken a paranoia that Steve would like to settle once and for all, and he just hopes that he can find the right music to do it.
Steve stops short when he sees Eddie so close, stepping back and using the pause as an excuse to shrug on the other strap of his backpack. It's something to do, practical fidgeting that keeps his body from doing something else. ] What? No, like the dog. I mean, I guess also the snacks.
Okay. Sure, no hurry. So can we stop power walking like a mom's morning club? [ they're not in coordinated track suits anyway and eddie really would love to not keep straining his muscles.
eddie drops his hands, stuffing them back into his pockets before hissing and pulling the one holding his cigarette out with a hiss and shaking it out. it hurts like a motherfucker, yeah, but he's done worse to himself. ] Shit--fuck.
[ Watching Eddie fidget and then hurt himself, Steve steps forward as if he's— what, going to stop Eddie? somehow un-hurt him? It feels awkward, suddenly coming close, so he turns back around and heads out at a slower pace. He keeps forgetting about Eddie's injuries since they'd healed at a surprising rate, but they're there nonetheless. So Steve doesn't apologize for being thoughtless, but he's definitely walking more slowly now. ]
Sorry some of us had better things to do than gym class. [ eddie wants to snap, he does but he keeps that from his tone as he shakes out his hand and then rubs the thumb of his uninjured hand over the burn on his palm.
it feels crueler, suddenly, to snap instead of leaning into of a quip about not being anyone's daddy or something equally tongue-and-cheek to throw the other guy off. it's just-- it's just that i's weird -- being here. and not eddie's sort of weird. the sort of weird where they're surviving it at all and waking up in an empty city where there's nothing and no one but a bunch of people trying to figure out if it's a bad trip, death, or something else.
eddie sighs. ] Sorry, I've been in a shit mood.
[ which he knows isn't fair. steve's not exactly in a great mood either, not with the looming danger and the fact the other shoe just won't drop. eddie falls in step, thankful to keep up with the new pace that doesn't strain his legs.
he thinks for a moment, hums as if he's thinking. ] Anduril.
[ Steve takes it in stride, sort of reading between the lines and accepting the snappish comment even if the tone isn't a biting one. He's gotten used to being called out for his life—his upbringing and his parents' money and his life of leisure as a popular kid. The days of King Steve are long over by about three years, but he's still taking hits on the chin and then turning the other cheek.
He'd been an asshole. People can be assholes back to him if it makes them feel better.
Nodding and turning to glance at Eddie, his eyes go back in front of him when they hit the stairs to descend to ground level. ] Hey, that's fair. We went through hell only to show up here.
[ It also sucks because actually, Steve is terrible at being around other guys. He hasn't had a male friend his age since Tommy, and even that was a weird friendship sometimes. Steve can comfort girls, and even the kids to a certain extent, but he doesn't know what to do about Eddie. So he just acts the way that he'd probably treat himself and tries not to overthink it. ]
Yeah. I just-- How are you so calm about it? [ it's not an accusation but there's a bit of desperation in eddie's voice, like he wants to know the secret of it all to figure out how to get to the other side of his life turning upside down and then ending in this.
he knows, objectively, that no one's fine.
but he'd love tips on how to not feel like he's going to be jumping out of his skin any second. especially when weed is limited and despite the occasional coke and ket habit, eddie's not really looking to get hooked on the available pain killers he's noticed are well stocked in the pharmacy shelves.
luckily before he spirals into thoughts, steve makes the mistake of asking a question. which leads to: ] A drug it is not. It's a sword. The Flame of the West, technically. Not like an actual flaming sword, though that be sick as fuck to have, but like a beacon of light metaphor and all that. It belonged to a badass ranger and King in the Lord of the Rings.
Of all the crazy shit that's happened to me, this is the least, like, immediately deadly. [ Which isn't really an answer, but it's something of an explanation. Steve has his moments of panic, but he's also had a lot more experience with the Upside Down, pain, and general supernatural life-suckage than Eddie. He's grateful that he's at least gotten better about acting like he's okay, because while he's always ready to spring into action and has a focused kind of calm when he's able to do something physical, all of that falls apart as soon as he has time to try and think about anything.
Pushing open the door out onto the street, he holds it open for Eddie and gives him a confused look as an excuse to stop and be nice to him. He throws out a lot of words and concepts in his explanation, but one strikes Steve as the weirdest; he hangs around a lot of nerds, after all. ] A ranger? Like a park ranger?
That's even more fucked up, man. [ it does make eddie feel a bit better, though. at least steve has experience with worse shit and would know what to do.
eddie wishes he were more like him but, well, his last foray into hero-dom really didn't end well.
he should probably talk to someone about that.
he raises a brow as steve opens the door, slipping by him with a soft 'thanks' before stepping into fresh air. he digs into the pocket of his jacket, looking for his lighter to light up the cigarette again.
then he snorts, letting out an amused laugh that has half of his mouth turning upward. ] Like a park ranger? You think he'd have time while ruling the kingdom for that kind of side job?
[ then he shakes his head. ] More like a Paladin if you remember anything Wheeler said about his character for Hellfire.
[ Steve doesn't respond to that because he isn't sure how. Yeah, it's fucked up, but so is a bunch of kids fighting monsters and Russian spies torturing ice cream shop employees and girls raised by scientists to be weapons. There's a lot that's fucked up, and maybe learning to accept that is what makes it easier to pretend that he's okay.
Nodding in reply to the thanks, he falls back into step next to Eddie. Steve hadn't meant anything by his drug comment, but he does wonder if Eddie is self-medicating not only because of the pain, but the emotional and mental stress of it all as well. That's none of his business, though, until Eddie makes it his business by asking for help or fucking up; one is more likely to happen first than the other. ]
Uh, kinda? Fighters that can do some magic. [ Steve feels like everything in D&D is magic, it'd be nice to hear about a normal human who can make a difference for once. ] Is the Andrill ranger a... what do they call them? Hobbies, or whatever.
Yeah, a Ranger can do even less magic. They are more survive off the land, track animals and make the best of nature to survive. They’re kind of underrated but pretty important out of combat. [ Eddie is actually pretty excited that Steve remembers what he does so he rambles. he grins, walking a little bit faster and forgetting about the cigarette though he’s holding it in one hand and the lighter in the other. as he walks, he waves his hands. ] First, Anduril.
Second, it’s a Hobbits. But nah, man, Aragorn is a human. Well, a Dunedain but that just means he’s a human who lives longer.
He’s pretty badass. A good fighter, could rally people in a battle. [ he stops, points at Steve with the hand holding his cigarette. ] You'd make a pretty good ranger.
[ Steve nods his head slowly, doing his best to follow along. He knows the basics of D&D purely via osmosis of being around so many of the nerds who play it, but that doesn't mean he understands any of what Eddie is rambling about. Still, he appreciates being talked to like someone who's capable of learning all of this rather than an idiot like Dustin tends to talk to him when the topic is one Steve knows nothing about; it's not a great way to get him interested in it, either. ]
Oh, cool. Most of the time the kids are talking about elves and dwarves and all that fantasy shit.
[ Coughing a bit at being compared to a fictional badass, Steve ruffles a hand through the hair at the back of his head. ] 'Kay, I'll try not to take it personal that you said he's important out of combat.
[ eddie tries not to make a pained sound that steve calls it 'fantasy shit' and the sharp low whine turns into a cough. totally subtle, yeah?
at least steve is also coughing so they're like brothers in coughing or something. a bond along with being victims of demobat bites. eddie tries not to think about that and lights his cigarette instead, taking a drag. ] They're great in combat too but there's more to them, man.
You'd rather be all brute force and no planning ahead or something?
[ That gives him something to think about, actually, so he doesn't shoot back a reply right away. Would he like to be more than brute force? Of course, but he's far from being one of the brightest minds in their ever-growing group. There's a chance to prove that he can be more than muscle in this city simply because none of the brainiacs are around, but also he doesn't want to start finding silver linings in being kidnapped somewhere for unknown reasons.
Shrugging, he fiddles with the end of the strap on his backpack where the material is fraying. ] I mean, no, but that's what I'm good for. [ Barely. He knows better than anyone how often he's gotten his shit rocked. ] Survival plans maybe. Boy scout shit.
[ well that comment definitely has eddie raising an eyebrow, tilting his head as they walk.
that's kind of grim in a way, actually. he can't place what about it he doesn't like but it definitely further contradicts the image of steve harrington he'd had before the guy showed up in the boathouse and prodded at eddie's side with an oar.
it also doesn't quite go with what he saw before they arrived here either; harrington had been all about preparing and making things work so they survived, not just brute forcing it. the guy did jump into lover's lake without hesitation but he'd also been captain of the swim club so it made sense when you thought about it.
eddie narrows his eyes. ] Why're you good for it, Harrington?
[ Even without glancing over, Steve can feel Eddie looking at him. The guy is never very subtle, all drama and emotions in ways that Steve isn't familiar with compared to a life of falling in line. Sure, he'd had his share of parties and under-aged drinking and dabbling with pot, but it was all a rather careful play at rebellion; his parents and coaches never found out, and even if he had the reputation of playboy, he was never a bad boy. Steve Harrington had been a cookie cutter popular jock, and that meant even breaking rules in a cookie cutter sort of way.
Thing is, he's matured out of that, both by force and by choice. Maybe that's why he wants to answer Eddie honestly and needs to think about how to word the answer since he's always been shit at explaining things. Nancy believed he had complex thoughts, to a degree, but she knows better than anyone that Steve doesn't have the tools to share those thoughts with the world. It's hard translating things from his brain—maybe that's why D&D and all of the fantasy worlds are so baffling to him. ]
I mean, I've been the muscle. Maybe the practical one since everyone else has crazy ideas and they don't know how the world works even if they understand all the science of it. [ Always the babysitter, the one person that always tries to tell people "no" when they least want to hear it.
He drops the backpack strap from his hands and starts gesturing instead like it'll help explain anything if he can put a physical aspect to it. ] I sucked at school, and I don't understand any of the shit the kids talk about, or Eleven's whole deal, or even the kind of shit Nancy and Jonathan get up to with the, like, spying and writing.
[ eddie opens his mouth to comment on that first bit but then steve keeps going so he just listens, keeps quiet and smokes his cigarette as steve word vomits his thoughts out into the world.
he wonders if it's cathartic for people who don't do it often. steve seems like the sort of guy who doesn't or like he feels like he shouldn't, but maybe eddie's projecting on to him based on the fact he looks both confused and on the edge of saying something a whole lot of the time. ] For someone who doesn't understand it, you seemed pretty on top of it when Henderson and Buckley were trying to convince me that the good news is killing Vecna was the easy part.
[ eddie had hoped for a more grounded, voice of reason approach from someone and hadn't gotten it. ] And from one guy that sucked at school worse than you, man, that just mean you don't have the sort of smarts that'll make you a good, little itty bitty worker bee in a soul crushing nine-to-five desk job.
[ which sounds terrible to eddie but then he pauses. ] Unless that's what you wanted. Then I'm sorry, dude.
Buuuuuut--- [ he draws out the sound and takes one more drag of nicotine in his smoke before holding it out toward steve, close enough that he's at his side and it's in front of him if he wants it. ] That just sounds like you think you should do it because it's what's left.
[ It's probably the scent of smoke that's giving him the craving, but Steve could really use a cigarette right now. Having one in his hands would also give him something to do, a concrete action for his lips and lungs that was something other than talking. Eddie looks at him like he might be crazy, or maybe it's just surprise that Steve is saying so much to someone he knows so little about. They're still feeling each other out in a lot of ways, and while it seems they've both left behind their prejudices and jealousies surrounding the other, that doesn't mean they really get each other yet.
A bark of laughter escapes him, a bit of a smile creeping into the corner of his lips and he nods. ] Yeah, man, you came into things three years later than me. And I was trying to get you on board.
[ He doesn't think he was lying to Eddie, not exactly, but Steve had definitely underestimated Vecna and overestimated those left in Hawkins. He still wonders if they would have won more definitively if everyone had been together, if Eleven and the Byers hadn't been across the country, and Hopper had been alive. Steve might be the voice of reason, but that's not always because he has all the answers—sometimes he just knows the sound of a suicidal plan when he hears one.
Sometimes he doesn't.
The comment about worker bees and desk jobs makes him shake his head, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what he wants. He knows that he doesn't want to work for his dad, and he knows that he can't get into college, and the only thing that he knows is that he wants a life with someone he loves but that seems just as impossible as doing anything other than a soul-crushing nine-to-five job of any kind. ]
I mean, yeah? If I'm the one that can do it, and no one else can, then it's up to me. Plus, what else is there? How else can I help if not this? Like, fuck, at least babysitting Henderson means that I can keep him alive to do his science shit and make a real difference.
Yeah, that's me. Good with being three years later. [ eggie says with a bit of a self-deprecating smile on his lips. three years late to the whole 'supernatural world of monsters under our town' bit is a lot better than to walking down the stage to graduate.
then again, eddie's not going to be doing that any time soon. at least he doesn't think so. he's still holding the cigarette out. ] You seem like you need it, dude.
[ the place their in might not have weed readily available, but at least it has camels. sweet, sweet camels. terrible for eddie's lungs but great for his anxiety and the way his hands shake.
he frowns, brows furrowing slightly as he listens to steve talk about how he doesn't have anything else to add. ] You realize the only reason we got in touch with Henderson and got out of the Upside Down that first time was because of you, right? That made a difference.
[ Steve finally notices the cigarette as an invitation rather than just another one of Eddie's gestures. He didn't think the guy liked him enough to share, but maybe being stuck here together means that he's going to warm up to a friendly face a lot faster even if it's the face of former King Steve.
Taking the cigarette between two fingers, he lifts it to tag a drag, holds it in his lungs, and then sighs it back out. He considers himself lucky that he does cough it up since it's been a while since he last smoked. ] Thanks, I'll grab my own while we're out so I don't have to keep bumming off you.
[ Another drag and he offers it back to Eddie with a smile that's both thankful and self-deprecating. He appreciates that Eddie is trying to make him feel better, but Steve doesn't necessarily need it; he knows his strengths and his weaknesses. ] Yeah, we're just lucky I can recognize that kid's condescending tone a mile away.
It's all yours. [ eddie waves a dismissive hand and then moves to pull out another cigarette from the pack he's got squirreled away in his jacket. ] This place isn't against us smoking, apparently.
[ weapons are on the out but there's definitely still ways to kill themselves. slowly, he guesses. somehow that thought is a lot more fucked up. ] That's a skill, Harrington.
One that saved my ass so I'm going to be grateful. [ it kept him alive longer and while eddie's aware that it's not for long, the part where things go downhill for him aren't really steve harrington's fault at all. ]
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hairsprayed) wrote2023-06-11 12:55 pm
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Steve stops short when he sees Eddie so close, stepping back and using the pause as an excuse to shrug on the other strap of his backpack. It's something to do, practical fidgeting that keeps his body from doing something else. ] What? No, like the dog. I mean, I guess also the snacks.
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eddie drops his hands, stuffing them back into his pockets before hissing and pulling the one holding his cigarette out with a hiss and shaking it out. it hurts like a motherfucker, yeah, but he's done worse to himself. ] Shit--fuck.
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[ Watching Eddie fidget and then hurt himself, Steve steps forward as if he's— what, going to stop Eddie? somehow un-hurt him? It feels awkward, suddenly coming close, so he turns back around and heads out at a slower pace. He keeps forgetting about Eddie's injuries since they'd healed at a surprising rate, but they're there nonetheless. So Steve doesn't apologize for being thoughtless, but he's definitely walking more slowly now. ]
So? What's your word?
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it feels crueler, suddenly, to snap instead of leaning into of a quip about not being anyone's daddy or something equally tongue-and-cheek to throw the other guy off. it's just-- it's just that i's weird -- being here. and not eddie's sort of weird. the sort of weird where they're surviving it at all and waking up in an empty city where there's nothing and no one but a bunch of people trying to figure out if it's a bad trip, death, or something else.
eddie sighs. ] Sorry, I've been in a shit mood.
[ which he knows isn't fair. steve's not exactly in a great mood either, not with the looming danger and the fact the other shoe just won't drop. eddie falls in step, thankful to keep up with the new pace that doesn't strain his legs.
he thinks for a moment, hums as if he's thinking. ] Anduril.
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He'd been an asshole. People can be assholes back to him if it makes them feel better.
Nodding and turning to glance at Eddie, his eyes go back in front of him when they hit the stairs to descend to ground level. ] Hey, that's fair. We went through hell only to show up here.
[ It also sucks because actually, Steve is terrible at being around other guys. He hasn't had a male friend his age since Tommy, and even that was a weird friendship sometimes. Steve can comfort girls, and even the kids to a certain extent, but he doesn't know what to do about Eddie. So he just acts the way that he'd probably treat himself and tries not to overthink it. ]
And— what? Sounds like drugs or something.
cw: mention of drug use?
he knows, objectively, that no one's fine.
but he'd love tips on how to not feel like he's going to be jumping out of his skin any second. especially when weed is limited and despite the occasional coke and ket habit, eddie's not really looking to get hooked on the available pain killers he's noticed are well stocked in the pharmacy shelves.
luckily before he spirals into thoughts, steve makes the mistake of asking a question. which leads to: ] A drug it is not. It's a sword. The Flame of the West, technically. Not like an actual flaming sword, though that be sick as fuck to have, but like a beacon of light metaphor and all that. It belonged to a badass ranger and King in the Lord of the Rings.
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Pushing open the door out onto the street, he holds it open for Eddie and gives him a confused look as an excuse to stop and be nice to him. He throws out a lot of words and concepts in his explanation, but one strikes Steve as the weirdest; he hangs around a lot of nerds, after all. ] A ranger? Like a park ranger?
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eddie wishes he were more like him but, well, his last foray into hero-dom really didn't end well.
he should probably talk to someone about that.
he raises a brow as steve opens the door, slipping by him with a soft 'thanks' before stepping into fresh air. he digs into the pocket of his jacket, looking for his lighter to light up the cigarette again.
then he snorts, letting out an amused laugh that has half of his mouth turning upward. ] Like a park ranger? You think he'd have time while ruling the kingdom for that kind of side job?
[ then he shakes his head. ] More like a Paladin if you remember anything Wheeler said about his character for Hellfire.
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Nodding in reply to the thanks, he falls back into step next to Eddie. Steve hadn't meant anything by his drug comment, but he does wonder if Eddie is self-medicating not only because of the pain, but the emotional and mental stress of it all as well. That's none of his business, though, until Eddie makes it his business by asking for help or fucking up; one is more likely to happen first than the other. ]
Uh, kinda? Fighters that can do some magic. [ Steve feels like everything in D&D is magic, it'd be nice to hear about a normal human who can make a difference for once. ] Is the Andrill ranger a... what do they call them? Hobbies, or whatever.
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Second, it’s a Hobbits. But nah, man, Aragorn is a human. Well, a Dunedain but that just means he’s a human who lives longer.
He’s pretty badass. A good fighter, could rally people in a battle. [ he stops, points at Steve with the hand holding his cigarette. ] You'd make a pretty good ranger.
[ is all of that disjointed? yep. ]
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Oh, cool. Most of the time the kids are talking about elves and dwarves and all that fantasy shit.
[ Coughing a bit at being compared to a fictional badass, Steve ruffles a hand through the hair at the back of his head. ] 'Kay, I'll try not to take it personal that you said he's important out of combat.
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at least steve is also coughing so they're like brothers in coughing or something. a bond along with being victims of demobat bites. eddie tries not to think about that and lights his cigarette instead, taking a drag. ] They're great in combat too but there's more to them, man.
You'd rather be all brute force and no planning ahead or something?
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Shrugging, he fiddles with the end of the strap on his backpack where the material is fraying. ] I mean, no, but that's what I'm good for. [ Barely. He knows better than anyone how often he's gotten his shit rocked. ] Survival plans maybe. Boy scout shit.
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that's kind of grim in a way, actually. he can't place what about it he doesn't like but it definitely further contradicts the image of steve harrington he'd had before the guy showed up in the boathouse and prodded at eddie's side with an oar.
it also doesn't quite go with what he saw before they arrived here either; harrington had been all about preparing and making things work so they survived, not just brute forcing it. the guy did jump into lover's lake without hesitation but he'd also been captain of the swim club so it made sense when you thought about it.
eddie narrows his eyes. ] Why're you good for it, Harrington?
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Thing is, he's matured out of that, both by force and by choice. Maybe that's why he wants to answer Eddie honestly and needs to think about how to word the answer since he's always been shit at explaining things. Nancy believed he had complex thoughts, to a degree, but she knows better than anyone that Steve doesn't have the tools to share those thoughts with the world. It's hard translating things from his brain—maybe that's why D&D and all of the fantasy worlds are so baffling to him. ]
I mean, I've been the muscle. Maybe the practical one since everyone else has crazy ideas and they don't know how the world works even if they understand all the science of it. [ Always the babysitter, the one person that always tries to tell people "no" when they least want to hear it.
He drops the backpack strap from his hands and starts gesturing instead like it'll help explain anything if he can put a physical aspect to it. ] I sucked at school, and I don't understand any of the shit the kids talk about, or Eleven's whole deal, or even the kind of shit Nancy and Jonathan get up to with the, like, spying and writing.
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he wonders if it's cathartic for people who don't do it often. steve seems like the sort of guy who doesn't or like he feels like he shouldn't, but maybe eddie's projecting on to him based on the fact he looks both confused and on the edge of saying something a whole lot of the time. ] For someone who doesn't understand it, you seemed pretty on top of it when Henderson and Buckley were trying to convince me that the good news is killing Vecna was the easy part.
[ eddie had hoped for a more grounded, voice of reason approach from someone and hadn't gotten it. ] And from one guy that sucked at school worse than you, man, that just mean you don't have the sort of smarts that'll make you a good, little itty bitty worker bee in a soul crushing nine-to-five desk job.
[ which sounds terrible to eddie but then he pauses. ] Unless that's what you wanted. Then I'm sorry, dude.
Buuuuuut--- [ he draws out the sound and takes one more drag of nicotine in his smoke before holding it out toward steve, close enough that he's at his side and it's in front of him if he wants it. ] That just sounds like you think you should do it because it's what's left.
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A bark of laughter escapes him, a bit of a smile creeping into the corner of his lips and he nods. ] Yeah, man, you came into things three years later than me. And I was trying to get you on board.
[ He doesn't think he was lying to Eddie, not exactly, but Steve had definitely underestimated Vecna and overestimated those left in Hawkins. He still wonders if they would have won more definitively if everyone had been together, if Eleven and the Byers hadn't been across the country, and Hopper had been alive. Steve might be the voice of reason, but that's not always because he has all the answers—sometimes he just knows the sound of a suicidal plan when he hears one.
Sometimes he doesn't.
The comment about worker bees and desk jobs makes him shake his head, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what he wants. He knows that he doesn't want to work for his dad, and he knows that he can't get into college, and the only thing that he knows is that he wants a life with someone he loves but that seems just as impossible as doing anything other than a soul-crushing nine-to-five job of any kind. ]
I mean, yeah? If I'm the one that can do it, and no one else can, then it's up to me. Plus, what else is there? How else can I help if not this? Like, fuck, at least babysitting Henderson means that I can keep him alive to do his science shit and make a real difference.
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then again, eddie's not going to be doing that any time soon. at least he doesn't think so. he's still holding the cigarette out. ] You seem like you need it, dude.
[ the place their in might not have weed readily available, but at least it has camels. sweet, sweet camels. terrible for eddie's lungs but great for his anxiety and the way his hands shake.
he frowns, brows furrowing slightly as he listens to steve talk about how he doesn't have anything else to add. ] You realize the only reason we got in touch with Henderson and got out of the Upside Down that first time was because of you, right? That made a difference.
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Taking the cigarette between two fingers, he lifts it to tag a drag, holds it in his lungs, and then sighs it back out. He considers himself lucky that he does cough it up since it's been a while since he last smoked. ] Thanks, I'll grab my own while we're out so I don't have to keep bumming off you.
[ Another drag and he offers it back to Eddie with a smile that's both thankful and self-deprecating. He appreciates that Eddie is trying to make him feel better, but Steve doesn't necessarily need it; he knows his strengths and his weaknesses. ] Yeah, we're just lucky I can recognize that kid's condescending tone a mile away.
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[ weapons are on the out but there's definitely still ways to kill themselves. slowly, he guesses. somehow that thought is a lot more fucked up. ] That's a skill, Harrington.
One that saved my ass so I'm going to be grateful. [ it kept him alive longer and while eddie's aware that it's not for long, the part where things go downhill for him aren't really steve harrington's fault at all. ]