[ If Eddie knew any of the group better than he does, he might recognize that he is also part of that problem. He doesn’t really talk about things either. He files those memories away, telling himself that he’ll address it on another day, but he never does. Instead, he tiptoes around the trauma, refusing to think about it too deeply, because thinking about it means having to make it real again and find something to do with the information.

Kind of hard to hide when it’s all laid out in front of you like this, though. He doesn’t blame Steve for not discussing it. It’s a lot, and he wonders if something like this might be hidden somewhere in his domain, a little alcove of trauma in what would be an otherwise light and welcoming place. There’s definitely some shit they need to discuss, but maybe not here.

When they board the elevator, Eddie wincing as it creaks beneath their weight, he sneaks a glance at Steve. To make certain he’s okay? There’s not really any “okay” in this situation, but if he’s holding up, it’s a start. He wants to make a joke, wants to do something to lighten the mood and put a little humor into something dark and horrible and beyond their control, but it doesn’t seem like the right environment for a joke. Instead, he aims for something else, weighing his words carefully. ]

So, uh...if it’s any consolation? I’m starting to think you’ve surpassed Ozzy when it comes to metal levels. And he’s like, the king of metal? So…congratulations on the usurping.

[ And yes, he actually means it. ]