steve harrington. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hairington) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2024-05-07 08:21 pm
hairington) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-05-07 08:21 pm
[ semi-closed ]
Who: steve and closed starters
When: after nero's death, approximately end of march/beginning of april
Where: solvunn, horizon
What: the aftermath of nero's death
Warnings: mentions of death, probably swearing, trauma, violence, blood, dealing with death, etc.
When: after nero's death, approximately end of march/beginning of april
Where: solvunn, horizon
What: the aftermath of nero's death
Warnings: mentions of death, probably swearing, trauma, violence, blood, dealing with death, etc.
no subject
[ It’s Nero’s. He’s dead.
He hears it, understands it, but it takes a moment for his brain to fully comprehend it. Eddie didn’t know Nero particularly well. Knew him by association, mostly, and critiqued his out-of-date pamphlet once (they ended up being changed the next month, so his well-constructed criticism was not in vain). But anyone could recognize Nero as a mainstay around the commune, someone who had been there longer than most of them and seemed perfectly confident and capable of handling—well, anything.
A Summoned hasn’t died here before…right? They’d know if one of them had died before, they’d take it as a word of warning, and if it was going to be anyone, it honestly doesn’t seem quite right that it would be Nero. But Steve wouldn’t be saying it if it weren’t true. He wouldn’t be here standing here covered in someone else’s blood, shaking and ready to break and somehow still claiming he’s okay.
Eddie doesn’t have it in him to call him out on it this time. He just steadies himself with a deep breath and hisses out: ]
Shit.
[ His head immediately begins to swim with a thousand questions. How? What happened? Does anyone else know? Where is he now? What about you? He bites every single one of them back. He doesn’t ask what happened, doesn’t push for information, because whatever happened, Steve is clearly not doing well and overwhelming him with questions seems like the absolute worst thing he could do right now.
And Eddie—Eddie doesn’t know how to handle this. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make this any better. He knows he just can’t, but he tries. Tries to reel himself in, tries to act as an anchor, tries not to make anything worse, just…tries his absolute damnedest to be there. ]
Alright. It’s—it’s alright, dude. It’s going to be alright.
[ His tone is quiet, almost cautious, because no, it’s not alright. They both know it, but one of them has to pretend it is, or that it can be.
Whether it’s an attempt to ground himself or Steve, Eddie still hasn’t let go. He can mask his anxiety, but it’s still apparent in the way his fingers just dig a little deeper into Steve’s arms, blood and ichor growing colder beneath his hands by the second.
He allows himself to ask one question, just one: ]
You were with him?
no subject
still, right now his attention is elsewhere, on other things. and thank god that eddie's hands haven't quite left steve's arms, because he's using that touch, that grounding connection, to keep him from fully falling apart. steve doesn't know of any other summoned who has died, didn't even know it was possible, or that it would ever be possible for nero. he was too strong for that, too good at... everything. fighting, healing, surviving. but steve... steve just went through too much to even try and deny what happened. talked to nero as it was happening. watched as he faded away-
fuck. fuck. eddie curses under his breath and steve's eyes close because this is more than he's willing to deal with. more than eddie should be dealing with. more than- more than what is fair. but what part of any of this is fair? nero is dead, his body out there in the woods with wanda, and- jesus. jesus. jesus. eddie's still talking but steve doesn't hear him, just shakes his head because it's not going to be alright, it really isn't, because nero is dead and that is kind of that, isn't it?
just like barb. just like benny. just like chrissy and billy and patrick and heather and mrs. byer's boyfriend and fred and eddie and-
steve's breathing picks up, a delayed kind of panic as keeps shaking his head because- no. no he's not going to do this, and he's not going to do this to eddie. it feels a lot like his control is slipping through his fingers, his hands turn, gripping onto eddie's arms as steve realizes he needs to steady himself. did eddie just say something? yes. yes he just asked a question. steve forces a long breath, forces himself back in the moment, and when he looks up and sees eddie looking back at him, he-
you were with him?
steve's eyes go wide for a moment, his entire body stilling. and then there's nero, there's nero looking back up at him, there's nero's soft chuckle and nero's voice and-
steve nods, slowly, and then whatever resolve he'd been building cracks and falls away. he coughs, but really it's an attempt to cover what feels almost like a sob, breaking out of his chest. he drops his head, closes his eyes, tries to hold back the way that they burn but he knows he's doing a poor job of it, too. that no matter what he might try and do, whatever he might try and bring back together, he is definitely...
well. he's crying. there's no way around it now. ] Sorry, sorry-
no subject
But at least Steve can have the comfort of knowing that Nero wasn’t alone, and small though that may be, that means something. Eddie should know. He still feels an immeasurable amount of guilt that Dustin had to be there to watch him die, to have to see him weak and bloody as the light died from his eyes. But for his own sake, he’ll never not be grateful that he wasn’t scared and alone.
And Steve—god, Steve is crying. Eddie has bawled like a baby and come close to completely breaking down more than once, but he’s never seen Steve cry. Never even seen him come close, and it’s sort of alarming, because how is he supposed to fix this? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?
He swallows all his panic. Panic won’t help anything. Instead, he steadies himself with another deep breath, and blood and guts be damned, he wraps his arms firmly around Steve and reels him in close, holding him tight and just trying his goddamn best to make sure he knows that someone is here. He doesn’t have to deal with this on his own. ]
Alright, man. Alright. Don’t apologize. Nothing to apologize for.
[ It’s not alright. It’s not, they both know it, but there has to be some sort of assurance that it can be. The same sort of assurance that was offered to Eddie back in that boathouse, a place and time that seems like half an eternity ago. It was really one of the only things that kept him together.
As he does his best to console Steve, he distantly thinks that he sounds like his Uncle Wayne. Wayne would know what to do in this situation. He’d be able to say no more than five words and somehow make it all more bearable, because Wayne could always handle this shit. But Wayne isn’t here, and Eddie is, so he has to be the one to handle it now. ]
Hey.
[ Whether Steve stays close or pulls away, Eddie’s voice is soft. ]
He wouldn’t want you to go the same way. You’re gonna totally freeze if you don't get changed.
no subject
well. right now he's crying, like the final pillar has cracked and everything he was holding back just crumbles. his hands are still holding eddie's arms, though his grip is anything but tight. he hates himself, very suddenly - for not being able to keep it together, for not being able to do anything about it, for falling apart on eddie, who has his own shit to deal with where it concerns death and dying, and god. god. he's kind of a huge asshole, isn't he? crying like a little kid when eddie didn't ask for any of this.
that's when something changes - more quickly than steve can keep up, eddie is suddenly there, his arms around steve, holding him in a tight hug and is muttering something about alright and don't apologize that steve doesn't really pay much attention to. it's hard to, really, when eddie's holding him close and steve is crying and without any kind of hesitation, his arms wrap around eddie's middle, his face goes to eddie's shoulder, and he just kind of hangs on.
it's not pretty, the way steve just kind of clings on to eddie as he keeps crying, each breath stuttered and fractured. he doesn't know how long it is they stand like that either, steve's focused on trying to keep breathing, trying to calm down, and his hands are punched in the fabric at eddie's back and god, god he's kind of pathetic, isn't he?
hey it's eddie's voice that breaks through, right around the time that steve can take his first long, slow inhale. he hasn't loosened his grip, really. hasn't moved from where he's still clutching at eddie where they stand. eddie's voice is soft when he mentions freezing, and changing, and how they should probably move from right inside the door, and- oh. yeah. steve nods, and eddie can probably feel the careful, specific process steve has to go through to extract himself from where he'd definitely (embarrassingly) been clinging on to eddie like a lifeline. ]
Yeah. [ he says- and it's rough, barely more than a grunt. steve doesn't look at eddie when he finally steps back, rubbing his face with his sleeve. ] Yeah- I'll. Yeah. [ he should probably bathe, too, now that he thinks about it. now that he's calmed down to a point that he can feel the layers of grime and blood and dirt that coats him. ] Sorry. [ he says again without thinking about how eddie had just told him there was nothing to apologize for. steve feels a bit like he's not really here, like the fragile, quiet aftermath of a bomb, but-
no. he needs to go change. eddie's right. he nods again, taking a step towards their room. ]
no subject
This ordinarily might be a little too close. It might feel like an overstepped boundary, but Eddie knows how important Nero was to Steve, knows how close they were. This isn’t going to be easy, and it’s going to be a long time before this wound even begins to heal. All Eddie can really do is be there for him, and this is the only way he knows how to show it.
He just wishes he’d stop apologizing. Every time Steve says sorry, something in his chest tightens, and he wants nothing more than to tell him that you’re allowed to cry, dude. But he gets it, so he just shakes his head and mumbles, don’t worry about it as Steve steps away.
He gives Steve a few moment of space, makes sure he makes it through the door to their room, and then…he’s not sure what to do. He waits it out, pacing the hallway outside the door and wringing his hands, and then he takes another leaf from Wayne’s book. He leans against the door and calls in to him: ]
Hey. You, uh…think you could stomach some food too, or…?
[ It’s been hours, after all. ]
no subject
he probably would have apologized, too. still might. anything if it could make this all feel less tough.
thankfully, it doesn't seem that Eddie is still upset. or, probably, whatever it was they'd fought about and then left to sit awkwardness between them doesn't matter nearly as much. Steve settles his breathing, slow but still shaky, and Eddie just... god. Eddie is there. Steve feels himself collapse and then pull himself together and Eddie is there through the whole ordeal. it feels... better. feeling like there is something else, someone else, to anchor to.
Steve goes and showers, pushes himself through the motions even though there is a distinct part of him that wants to sit in the show and stare at the wall for the next hour or so. Eddie's voice cuts through in the midst of it, where Steve blinks and realizes he's been staring down at his hands for a little too long. what's Eddie even saying? something about food?
the idea of it turns Steve's stomach - the smell of rot and blood and dirt still thick in his nose, the back of his throat. his hands are relatively clean, the worst of it all washed away with the water, but... ]
Nah- I'm. Not hungry. [ he ends up calling back, turning off the water a few moments later. everything takes a little more effort than he wants to use, but he does it anyway, forces himself to do it anyway, and a few moments after that he's wandering back out to the main space, hair still wet, looking a lot more like a wet dog than a person.
he doesn't know why he doesn't expect it, but Eddie is still there when he comes out, and Steve ends up blinking a couple of times at him.
what is he supposed to say, now? what are they even supposed to do? sleep, probably, but the idea of sleeping shoots a kind of panic through Steve's chest. ]
no subject
Hey—
[ He speaks, his voice oddly tight, and then stops, because “hey” what? What can he say or do or suggest that’s even going to help? There aren’t a whole lot of options available to him, and while sleep does seem like the most obvious suggestion, Eddie can take one look at Steve and recognize that it’s probably not happening. Too much has happened, and the sun will start to rise soon enough anyway. ]
If you just…I dunno, sit for awhile? That’s cool. We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to do anything, we can just…exist for a bit, you know?
no subject
hey-
he blinks, and doesn't realize how long it's been. eddie is looking at him, not expectantly but definitely like he's about to break, like he's about to do something off, and steve doesn't disagree with him. doesn't think he's wrong. but god, he feels like such a pathetic- ]
I- [ there is the responsible voice in him that's saying he needs to get over himself and sleep. no good will come from him staying up, no good will come from any of this, but god damn he's not prepared to go at it alone.
so when eddie continues, when he says sit for awhile, when he says they don't have to talk, steve feels something like anxiety unclench from his ribs. ] Yeah. I...yeah. That. I can do that.
[ steve looks around, somehow looking lost in his own home, in their home. ]
no subject
For a moment, he wonders if it’s worth saying that he knows what Steve is feeling, that he lost his mom when he was a kid and that it fucking sucks, and nothing anyone says is actually helpful in the moment, but it does get easier with time. But he knows Steve, and he knows he’s going to turn it right back to him with sympathy for a wound that’s no longer fresh. Empathy is a wonderful trait to have, but this isn’t about Eddie and he’s not going to give Steve a single opportunity to apologize for something out of his control.
So he says nothing. He just reaches out to take him by the arm, to lead him out of the dark hallway and into the refuge of their shared room. Eddie makes sure Steve actually makes it through the door, and his gaze falls upon the walkman and headphones still strewn across his own bed. ]
Hey, listen—I know loud music is probably like…the last thing you wanna hear right now, but uh…most of this stuff— [ He picks through the small collection of tapes and holds one up ] —is actually pretty chill. If you just wanna tune the world out for a good thirty-six minutes…?
[ Sometimes, it doesn’t really matter that you listen to. Anything to cut through the buzzing of the rest of the world is enough, and the sweet sounds of Dio might even be enough to lull Steve to sleep if it’s turned down low enough. ]
But I won’t be offended if you say no.