here come the tides (rewind) - ohthejomanity (2024)

Chapter Text

Six Years Ago

“Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)”

And if the snow buries my
My neighborhood

And if my parents are crying
Then I'll dig a tunnel
From my window to yours
Yeah, a tunnel
From my window to yours

You climb out of the chimney
And meet me in the middle
The middle of the town
And since there's no one else around
We let our hair grow long
And forget all we used to know
Then our skin gets thicker
From living out in the snow

You change all the lead
Sleeping in my head
As the day grows dim
I hear you sing a golden hymn

-Arcade Fire

Eddie is thirteen years old and walking in the woods at sunset, the clouds as grey as charcoal with glowing orange embers, when he smells fire.

They don’t have many wildfires in Florida, too saturated there with swamp, with mildew and mould, so he’s interested, drawn to the idea of maybe seeing something badass tonight.

The trees are ancient, dry, and there’s no sign of flames.

The smell, though. It's cloying. Rough in his throat as it burrows into his brain, but it's a comforting kind of hurt, like getting warm too fast after being cold for too long.

He follows it to cliffs of great grey granite. It's in the air, on the wind, tingling his taste buds and making him feel things, down below.

Eddie finds its source at the top of the cliffs.

It's coming from a boy. A pup.

The boy is not on fire, he is the fire, suffusing the surrounding forest with his scent.

A similar age to Eddie, maybe younger, he is looking at the pool at the base of the quarry like Eddie's dad looks at the bottom of a bottle, like it contains all the world’s secrets, and lies.

Eddie stops.

He feels intoxicated, gloriously f*cked up , for the first time.

This is how Eddie Munson meets Steve Harrington.

***

‘Don't do it,’ Eddie half-jokes, and the pup turns. ‘Don't jump.

He is younger in the face than in the body, and he seems dazed and confused, hooded brown eyes glazed until he blinks.

‘Are you…? Did it work?’

Eddie smiles, but he feels uncomfortable. Like he's walked in on something he shouldn't have.

A hot flash passes over him.

He's about to have the door slammed in his face, image of a needle in his momma’s arm seared into his mind, wishing the medicine she cooks with a spoon and a zippo finally makes her happy.

Because her husband sure as sh*t won't be.

‘Did what work?’ he asks, mainly to avoid the burning question he really wants to ask Steve.

Why do you smell so amazing?

He can't ask that. It's inappropriate.

‘I wished it before and…’ The boy trails off, shaking a head which is surely too heavy for his skinny frame, weighted with thick locks of long hair, tangled at the back. ‘It never comes true,’ he adds, plaintive and sweet. ‘Are you… it? Are you my imaginary friend?’

Eddie wants to laugh, act like it's a funny joke and not vaguely horrifying, haha .

But the pup’s dirty and dressed in clothes which were clearly not meant for him, they're loose on him and mismatched, and to top it off, he's barefoot.

He sounds disoriented too, disconnected. Kind of loopy.

He’s probably out here, deep in the forest at night-time, because he needs to be somewhere private to sniff glue or something. Either that or he's a runaway, it's the summer holidays and there’s nobody at home compos mentis enough to notice when he's hungry.

It's sad, sh*t like this isn't funny.

Eddie's met kids like this before, hell, who's he kidding? He almost became one.

The difference being that he had an escape route, three buses over twelve hours to stay with his uncle in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's one of the lucky ones. He got out.

Eddie swallows thickly, clears his throat.

‘Can be.’ After all, Eddie needs friends too, so maybe they need each other. He politely ignores the whole imaginary part, doesn't know what to do with it. ‘I'm Eddie, just moved here, don't know anyone yet. So, sure. We can be friends. What's your name?’

The pup smiles, and yeah, it's a little manic, a little unhinged. He's more alert now though, big eyes brighter and posture upright.

It also changes his scent.

‘Steve,’ he says, and his cheeks bloom blood-red. ‘You wanna swim with me, Imaginary Eddie ?’

Eddie peers over the edge, past his toes. He can't see the water down there, it's black and it's still.

‘Is it safe?’ he asks Steve.

Steve's head is co*cked, he has a blaze in his eyes and he's smirking, amused.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘...Yes.’

‘Isn’t there some other way in, some place lower-’

‘Do you trust me?’

Eddie shakes his head. ‘ f*ck no. Are you insane? We just met.’

Steve giggles, and oh , he's easily pleased. ‘Good, shouldn't trust anyone. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted, I guess. Bye Eddie.’

Steve takes a few steps back, runs forwards and flings himself over the edge, taking the omega scent with him.

Eddie follows.

He is frightened, heart beating out of his chest, but he doesn't think twice before jumping.

It's simple, he thinks. It's the kid's scent, drawing him in. Eddie needs it like he needs his next breath.

But really, they're friends from the beginning, Steve and Eddie.

Children make friends easily, they turn to each other like flowers to the sun.

The rest comes later.

***

The two boys have been playing together for a couple of hours, swimming and diving and splashing and chasing each other around the quarry pool.

It's warm out, early summer, and Eddie feels like he hasn't played outside in years.

He’s been outside, obviously. He just thinks that maybe he was a little too eager to graduate from playing to hanging out, loitering and getting into trouble, which is way less fun as it turns out.

It is balmy, pleasant, but it's also getting late and Eddie’s clothes are damp and he wants to go home.

Steve is up a tree, humming.

He is above Eddie, who is halfway up the same tree. Eddie thinks he's done pretty f*cking well to get halfway up. Steve disagrees.

‘Chickensh*t,’ Steve calls out to his friend. ‘Come up top.’

Steve is sitting on a thin branch, which is bowing at a fierce angle and threatening to snap.

Eddie is clinging to the trunk, vertigo pulling at his senses, promising him it will all be over soon if he just lets himself fall.

How come he could wrestle crocodiles for tourists, but simple heights make him break out in hives?

Still. Eddie feels alive .

Can't believe he actually jumped off the quarry cliff tonight. He was sure he was going to die before hitting the surface, kicking up.

It's all thanks to Steve.

Steve, who is a total liability, that much is clear.

He has a laugh like a much younger child, and an innocence about him like he's been weirdly socialised. He’s also a pup with a giant risk aversion problem.

Eddie thought that he was a renegade, a rebel, until he met Steve.

‘I'm coming, I'm… this is dumb. I can see fine from here.’

The town is nestled in the valley, lit up like a Christmas tree.

Wayne will be wondering where he is.

‘You don't want the bestest view?’

Weird f*cking phrasing.

‘Uh, nah. Not if it kills me… doesn't really seem worth it.’

‘Last thing you see before you die, then?’

Eddie laughs, the pup has a funny way of putting things. Macabre and sort of dreamy - a perplexing juxtaposition.

Worrying. Intriguing.

‘You're mentally ill.’ Eddie doesn’t need to touch solid wood to remember that he’s breakable, but he does it anyway. ‘Real morbid motherf*cker. Anyone ever tell you that?’

Steve's having none of it, peering down at him. ‘You said it first.’

Eddie is about to respond, really get into it with Steve and keep play-fighting with a beautiful boy up a tall tree because life is amazing when you follow your instincts, unexpected things happen all the time, each one a fresh and exciting experience to add to his growing collection, when the branch that Steve was balancing on collapses.

He crashes through the leaves.

Steve is hurt. He has to be.

He falls a few metres, coming to a stop a few branches from Eddie. He's on his belly, face down, arms wrapped around the tree.

‘sh*t, you alright?’

He is. He's hurt, but he's laughing. His shoulders are shaking as Steve smiles up at Eddie, mischievous face creased with a potent mix of pain and pleasure.

‘That was fun,’ he says breathlessly. ‘You wanna go next?’

‘Not a chance.’ Eddie feels faint. ‘Hey. You're bleeding.’

Eddie watches as Steve licks a line of red from his forearm, and holds eye contact with Eddie as he does it.

Eddie almost falls anyway.

They say their goodbyes at the base of the tree, after clambering down at Eddie's firm insistence.

Steve would have gone again and again, climbed and fell, if Eddie wasn't here to stop him.

Really hurt himself, and found it hilarious, Eddie just knows it.

It's unsettling.

Eddie promises to come back the next night after sunset and meet Steve at the clifftop, the most convenient landmark to navigate by, rising above the tallest trees for miles around.

Eddie lies gently to Steve; he has no intention of following through, first times are great and all, but for some new experiences, once is enough.

He doesn't return until the third night.

***

Eddie spends the intervening days moping around his uncle’s trailer, which is smaller than his mom’s house although it feels more spacious, hers was crowded with Paul and his gross stuff.

Paul collects chaos.

Wayne collects novelty mugs.

He has a bookshelf stuffed with them, and they appear elsewhere in the trailer too, mementoes of cross-country trips he has taken and accumulated tokens of love and friendship.

Other than that, Wayne keeps his place neat. Food in the fridge and no needles lying around, except those used for sewing and knitting.

He doesn't say a great deal. It's awkward.

Eddie doesn't really know the man, his mom’s older brother by a decade. He moved out when she was eight and Eddie only met him once, as a toddler.

He sat Eddie down the first night, and explained to him that he couldn't engage with her anymore after she had a kid and she wasn't willing to give up the lifestyle , but he made sure that she knew his door was always open if they needed a place to stay. Eddie could respect that.

‘That’s all to say, you're welcome here,’ Wayne had said.

He also let Eddie decorate his room with the band posters he had carefully folded and packed in his suitcase.

Eddie suspects that this stranger, clad in flannel shirts and with a salt and pepper beard, his long-lost uncle, might be hard to get to know, but it might be worth it in the end.

He is bored out of his skull by the third night.

Would risk certain death to not have to sit in the trailer watching black and white westerns with his nice but dull relative for another long evening.

Steve may be deadly, at least he's f*cking interesting.

***

Eddie finds Steve on the cliffs, bare feet dangling over the edge.

‘Hey, you came back,’ Eddie says.

Steve looks around slowly, ‘Mm.’

‘What you got there?’

Steve’s cradling a bottle in his lap, pressing it between his thighs.

He smiles sloppily at Eddie, eyes unfocused and head lolling slightly, and then Eddie's a little annoyed. He didn't sign up for this.

‘Nothin’. Wouldn't you like to know?’

Steve takes a swig of the dregs, a golden liquid, spice and smoke.

It's almost empty.

How long has he been out here, drinking alone?

Babysitting a drunk pup isn’t exactly Eddie's idea of a good time, although he has relevant experience.

He sits next to Steve anyway. Thinks the kid might accidentally tip forwards and bounce off the rocks on his way down, and that Eddie could maybe hold onto him if he looks like he's going to…

Which would probably just catapult them both into the abyss, but hey, at least he'd die a hero.

Because Eddie has these fantasies, see?

Recurring dreams and daydreams about pulling people from burning buildings and giving them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Something about the idea of having to practically French kiss someone for their survival, it feels heady. Special.

He imagines being thanked and congratulated when they inevitably live, then realise who saved them.

It makes him shy thinking about how much he'd like that kind of praise and attention.

It's probably a major character flaw, he supposes, but it gives him comfort like few things do, so he indulges it often, lets the fantasy play out.

What's the harm?

‘Fine, keep it,’ he tells Steve. ‘Don't want it anyway. That stuff makes you sick.’

Steve hesitates, then holds the bottle by the neck and offers it to Eddie without looking at him.

Eddie actually doesn't want it though, except that he has this mad idea that he might be able to taste Steve on the bottle, his spit.

Could it taste as good as he smells?

Only one way to find out.

Eddie takes the bottle, swigs from it and grimaces.

He can't really tell but he thinks this stuff isn't rotgut.

Unfortunately, he can't taste Steve on the lip of the bottle, the liquor is too strong, overpowering.

He skims the label, or what he can make of it in the moonlight. It speaks of Scotland and heather , a girl's name.

‘You lied,’ Steve slurs. ‘Didn't come back when you said you would. Not very friendly, imaginary friend .’

‘Uh, right. It’s my uncle… he’s strict, he wouldn't let me come out.’

‘Bull sh*t .’ Steve grabs the booze from Eddie, but doesn't drink. ‘You think I'm crazy, that’s what you said. Do I scare you?’

Eddie laughs and leans back, puts his weight through his palms.

Because Steve sees right through him, apparently. Won't let him get away with his bad habit of lying constantly to get whatever outcome he wants.

Heroic my ass.

Eddie’s a chancer, opportunist, and Steve knows it, gets it.

Like, noticing like.

‘Okay, so maybe a bit?’ Eddie is fighting through the discomfort which flows from honesty, he isn't used to it. Nobody has cared enough about what he says to call him on his lies for a long time. ‘But I don't mind. It’s kind of… hey, I wanna ask you something actually, if that's okay?’

‘Mm?’

Eddie gestures that he wants the bottle back, and he really does this time, he thinks he might need some liquid courage for this next part.

Steve pouts, relents.

Here goes nothing.

‘Why do you smell like that? You're what, eleven… twelve? Thought omegas presented way older than Alphas. Like, over sixteen. So what’s up with that? What's the deal?’

Steve is staring at the horizon where the canopy meets a bank of low clouds. In this part of the country, forests cover the majority of the land which isn't dotted with cattle.

He swings his legs around until he's facing Eddie. One leg is bent and his knees are opening like petals and-

The scent is powerful, like expensive Scottish whiskey, it hits him like a punch to the gut and Eddie hates it, he wants to run from it, far from Steve, but he also wants to dive further in.

It's confusing.

‘Why, does it make you wanna f*ck me?’ asks Steve. His knees are apart and his expression is flat, almost bored.

Eddie shoots way past confused.

He's instantly upset.

He's never heard a kid speak like this. Even his older friends in Miami wouldn’t wear their sexuality like a weapon, conceal it until they're pointing it at him while they sit back, blank-eyed and waiting.

It's disgusting, sickening, and… kind of tempting.

Eddie feels gross for even briefly considering it.

It's a split second, and then he comes to his senses.

He hasn't had a first kiss .

‘No, and what the hell, Steve?! Why would I wanna do that? Are you kidding?’

A slow smile forms, and Steve closes his knees. He turns back to the pool, to the view of the tops of the trees, the town,l and the moon.

‘Whatever. You're like, real , aren't you?’

Eddie is still panicking a bit, lungs tight and breath short.

‘Last time I checked. What’s your problem? I thought you were cool, but if you're gonna be like that, I'll just go. Leave you to it.’

Steve is contemplative, quiet, when he says, ‘No. It's okay. Never had a real friend either.’ He takes the bottle from Eddie, takes another sip and doesn't react to its strength. ‘Please don't leave,’ he says. ‘I'll be good.’

The alcohol is almost gone.

Excellent .

Eddie swipes it back, and forces himself to finish it. The taste is vile, nothing like Steve smells, but it works nonetheless, enters his bloodstream and makes him feel lightheaded, fuzzy .

There's also none left for Steve.

‘You couldn't be good if you tried,’ he jokes, his inhibitions are looser now. ‘But I kinda like it. Like you , I think. Maybe… because, I dunno. You're a little weirdo, aren't you? And weird’s cool, believe me, weird’s awesome .’

He’s rambling, Eddie does this when he’s nervous. He said too much to the cop who arrested him as well.

He needs to learn to shut up.

It's futile. He can't control it, his runaway mouth.

He's doomed.

Because for all his white knight fantasies, Eddie knows what he's destined to do, what he's programmed to be.

Alpha day care drummed into him what society expects from him unless he drugs himself to oblivion, the damaging consequences of Eddie existing as himself.

He's stuck. Doesn't want to have to take pills every day like his dad, fat lot of good they did him anyway, driving him to drink when he couldn't be the Alpha his omega wanted him to be, but Eddie doesn't want to be a bully either.

Paul .

That's Eddie's whole reason for agreeing to come here, to Hawkins. For a fresh start, a chance to find something more productive to channel his energy into than the kind of trouble he won’t be able to get out of so easily once he's over eighteen.

He needs to learn how to control himself.

In the meantime, unfortunately he suspects he's going to make a fool of himself in front of this adorable little psychopath more often.

‘Really?’ Steve asks, and his voice is so sad and small, it twists Eddie's stomach.

‘Sure thing, kiddo.’

‘Okay.’ Steve fiddles with his sleeve. He's perked up a little though. ‘Will you- could you come back with me, do you think? I just, I don't wanna be alone anymore when...’

He trails off.

Eddie is glad, he didn't like where Steve was going with that anyway.

He can imagine it well enough.

He can walk the poor kid home, he supposes.

‘Yeah, no problem. You wanna go now? Get you tucked up in bed, hm? You'll have a sore head in the morning.’

He knows he's being kind of patronising, babying Steve, but the boy doesn't seem to mind.

Steve just nods and smiles, and then his scent is a little sweeter, like burnt caramel .

They go together after Steve sends the empty bottle hurtling over the edge, broken shards drunk by the water.

On the walk, which takes them along a path through the trees in the opposite direction to Wayne's trailer, Steve names the trees they pass.

He does this for Eddie's benefit, who doesn't know any of them.

Strokes their trunks and picks a leaf from the ground and shows it to Eddie, recites maple, oak, hickory , and stops to demonstrate how to strip bark from a birch , use it as kindling.

Eddie smiles fondly and wonders how many unsolved arsons there are in Hawkins, Indiana.

It's charming behaviour, in an odd way.

Steve must have spent a lot of time in these woods. He probably lives on the fringes of society. Eddie imagines an identical trailer to his uncle's hiding beyond the next bend, no room to breathe in there, so Steve spends most of his days outdoors, reading a cool manual on army survival skills.

It's what Eddie would do, has done. He may not have taught himself nature facts, but knowing his way around a Swiss army knife helped when learning how to pick locks and hotwire cars.

He's convinced that this is it, his assumption is correct, and he can't wait to start teasing Steve about all the things they have in common.

What he gets is not what he expects.

Because Steve, the brat, is taking Eddie on a crime spree.

***

This forest is dense until the generations of trees suddenly give way to pristine, manicured gardens. There’s no gradual thinning of trees, opportunity to get used to the idea of being in civilization again after miles of wilderness.

When they arrive at their destination, Eddie has to blink to adjust his eyes to the unexpected light of a turquoise pool, lagoon-like and lit from beneath, tropical and buzzing and clean.

No trailer park in sight.

The house Steve takes him to is practically a mansion, it is ominously expensive.

Steve walks confidently towards the patio door and shades his eyes with his hand, peering through the glass.

‘Steve ,’ Eddie stage-whispers from over near the tree-line. ‘What are you doing? That’s not your house. You can’t go in there, hey , you're not allowed.’

Steve speaks normally. ‘I’m checking if he’s- if his jacket’s- yeah. We’re good. I think we’re okay.’

Steve pulls the handle and the door glides open. The sound skitters up Eddie’s spine.

And then Steve is slipping inside the house, insidious like a virus, entitled.

He leaves the patio door wide open and waiting.

For Eddie.

Perfect .

Eddie didn’t consider the possibility of underage drinking and breaking and entering this evening. He’s unprepared, both mentally and in a practical sense.

He can't get himself locked up again. Once was enough.

He won’t do it. Not for Steve, who might not understand that what he's doing is wrong, kid makes weird an artform.

Not for anyone.

Eddie is seriously contemplating running home with his tail between his legs. He could pick his way through the forest paths, aim for the highest cliffs.

Leave this crazy pup to his life of crime.

Because Eddie doesn’t need this sh*t. He really doesn’t.

He’s only in Hawkins temporarily, waiting out what is promising to be a challenging Alpha presentation. But one he fully intends to grow out of, come out the other side the kind of Alpha he actually wants to be.

As in, not a criminal, or not one who gets caught doing stupid sh*t, anyway.

He groans. It’s no use trying to convince himself, he’s in too deep already.

Also.

The owners might be in. This is the heart of America. Midwest. Big, expensive house.

Yeah, they’ll have a gun for sure. Stand their ground, shoot on sight…

The right thing to do is to persuade Steve to leave with him, then he’ll have done his duty.

Eddie passes the threshold. Enters the house with muddy shoes, leaves more solid footprints than Steve.

The house they've broken into is decorated blandly, insipid framed motel art and wall-to-wall cream carpet. No family photographs, dirty dishes piled in the kitchen. Everything is sparkling and shiny and cold.

It doesn’t look lived in.

Most likely a holiday home, oh, how the other half live.

A light switches on upstairs, illuminating the staircase from above. Eddie's foot is on the bottom step when he catches a glimpse of Steve, wandering into an upstairs room like he's sleepwalking.

Eddie sighs heavily.

Steve isn’t being sneaky in the slightest, kid’s gonna get them both killed .

What’s he doing?

Trying to rob the place?

He doesn’t seem the type. Too dreamily disengaged from reality to be interested in material things, like money.

No, Steve is acting like it's his house, like he lives here.

It’s ridiculous.

Eddie puts one hand on the bannister. The scent upstairs is thick and exciting.

His feet make their way upstairs and into the bedroom Steve entered, which is decorated like it is meant for a much younger boy. Blue walls with white stripes, a sailor motif.

It’s the bedroom of a five year old, not one who claims to be… wait, did he ever even tell Eddie how old he is?

Steve is sitting upright on the only bed, his spine against the headboard and legs stretched out in front of him.

‘Never had a friend in here,’ he says flatly. He is wringing his fingers in his lap and smiling nervously.

Eddie opens his mouth.

Nothing comes out.

First time for everything.

It's the omega scent, so intense that it is muddling up his thoughts. He can taste it in his throat, his blood.

He doesn’t like it. Or he likes it too much. He doesn’t know which.

He has to go, now .

Eddie can’t go to jail, it’ll ruin his life, he’ll be forcibly muzzled, chemically castrated…

…and maybe he doesn’t want to ruin his life, he may have gone off the rails for a while but he's back to himself now, has hopes and dreams.

Steve will be okay.

He’s stronger than he looks… probably.

Eddie almost trips over himself, he’s backing out of the bedroom so fast.

‘Right. I’ll uh, see you at the quarry. Tomorrow, same time? Sorry, I really have to go. My uncle, he’ll be worried. Tomorrow?’

Steve rubs his eyes sleepily, uses the back of one loose fist.

‘Okay. Tomorrow.’

Eddie wonders again whether he should try to convince Steve to leave with him.

But Steve is already untucking the covers and putting his fully-clothed, filthy body into the nice, clean bed.

He isn’t a boy who might need Eddie’s help anymore, he’s just a shape under the sheets.

Eddie takes one last look before he exits, his heart pounding in his chest.

‘Sleep well,’ he says.

He doesn't wait for Steve to respond.

What was it his mom used to say about his dad?

You can only save someone who wants to be saved.

***

Eddie doesn’t return to the quarry cliffs the next night, or for several more.

He watches a lot of TV, and after he falls asleep on the couch one too many times, he starts re-reading Lord Of The Rings .

It's his favourite.

He’s learning Elvish, for his sins.

It’s the summer holidays, so he can do whatever he likes, he reasons. It's not like he has any schoolwork to do or friends to hang out with.

Except…

No. He’s refusing to think about a boy he left in a bed, surrounded by stuffed animals which couldn’t possibly be his.

Who’s probably been arrested already.

It isn’t Eddie’s fault. He tried with Steve.

Anyway, he hates this town, he decides. He feels stifled here, and itchy all over.

Hawkins is squat and short, hobbity. There are no vast, impressive buildings stretching up to scrape the sky. He thinks he’s allergic to the forest, to the small-town mom and pop stores, to the whole goddamn state .

He misses Miami.

One night, Eddie is listening to music on his headphones, awash with memories of sneaking into rock gigs with his friends, when Wayne knocks and comes in, sees him sitting there, wet-cheeked and miserable.

He sits next to Eddie on the bed and gently reminds him that he might need to leave the house every once in a while if he wants to make friends before school starts.

‘There’s an arcade. A swimming pool. You won’t know until you try.’

Eddie sniffs, feels himself getting defensive. ‘I'm not a total loser, you know. I have made one friend. Uh, Steve .’

Wayne brightens. ‘Well, that’s great. Why don’t you invite Steve over for dinner one night? I’ll make you boys my famous mac and cheese.’

sh*t.

‘Sure, it's just- He might not be up for it.’ Wayne looks at Eddie like he wants to believe him. ‘I can ask him. He’s kinda skittish.’

‘Okay, no problem.’ Wayne pauses, ‘So where’d you meet this Steve, anyway? On one of your night-time wanderings?’

Eddie is a deer caught in the headlights, but Wayne is chuckling like it’s no big deal.

‘Oh, you thought you were being sneaky?’ Wayne laughs. ‘I’ll take the hint, sorry, won’t mention it again. Look, I don’t mind what you get up to in your free time, Ed. It’s the school holidays, and movin’s stressful. Just, sleep in your own bed, yeah? And no funny business? I can trust you with that, at least?

Eddie is mortified.

Alphas are meant to be hunters, skilful at the outdoor arts.

He must be missing that gene.

‘Sure. You can trust me,’ he says, and he really wishes he meant it, that it was true.

Steve is his friend.

And the slimy feeling hasn’t left his skin since he left him in that creepy house, ran for where the top of the cliffs was haloed by the moon.

Wayne ruffles Eddie's short hair, a court mandated buzz-cut, gradually growing out.

It’s the first time he has done this kind of thing, touch him in this way, and Eddie freezes for a second. He decides that the friendly familiarity feels okay, or maybe it's just a necessary, awkward part of a process which could eventually feel okay.

He smiles at his uncle, and feels a tiny bit better.

Wayne seems like a good guy, for an old dude. He's understanding at least.

He isn’t Paul, isn't a piece of sh*t bully.

Maybe Eddie can start to relax around him, let his guard down a little?

Now.

What the hell’s he gonna do about Steve?

***

What the hell he does is, Eddie visits all their haunts.

Almost all.

The house is off limits, on account of the fact that he ran away too quickly, was ill-equipped to leave a trail of breadcrumbs.

So Eddie visits the windy cliffs and the inky black pool beneath. The tree with bits of snapped branches still laying by its base.

Nothing.

He checks them all again, is out way past dark.

He goes again the next night, doesn’t understand where Steve is , tells himself he has to turn up soon.

He has to.

It becomes a mantra, a soothing balm.

He tries hard the next night too, puts some real effort in, but no, he can't find the path to the house he left Steve in.

Eddie is kicking himself, he should have checked the mail before he ran, stole an envelope or recited the address to himself to memorise it.

He didn't do any of these things.

For a week, Eddie leaves the trailer each night at sunset and stays out later and later, hanging around alone in the forest in case Steve turns up.

He starts searching in the daytime too, when the forest is bustling with colour, with life.

Steve is nowhere.

There's not even a lingering scent of him, a hint of omega on those broken bits of tree on the ground. Steve is like some scattered pieces of shattered glass at the bottom of a pool. Hidden away but still so sharp, his memories of Steve's strange behaviour cut Eddie, and he drowns in them.

Eddie has a bad feeling about Steve.

Terrible, really.

Ghastly, abhorrent.

It grows in his stomach as twisted and impatient as a poison ivy seedling, and what little hope he has of finding Steve, and making amends, is pushed aside.

Blocked from the sun, from water, it withers, might die.

On the seventh day of looking, Eddie tells Wayne about Steve.

***

The trailer is quiet and the voice of his uncle is sombre, serious. Wayne is picking up the phone book now because it’s time for action. He’s looking up a number he doesn’t know by heart.

‘We have to call someone,’ Wayne explains, tracing lists of names and inking his fingertip.

Eddie nods, agrees. It was time a week ago, he shouldn't have ever thought he could find Steve by himself, lesson learned.

‘I know. But… the cops? Really? When do they ever help?’

‘The cops,’ Wayne repeats. ‘Yeah. I know. But it's kinda their job to try . And before you start belly-achin’, there's one who’s good round here. I'll try Jim at home first, see if we can put him on the case. If Jim Hopper thinks a kid could be in danger, he'll do what he can to help.’

Jim Hopper, Jim , arrives quickly, and Eddie dislikes him instantly.

Wayne calls him Jim at the door. Eddie decides to call him by his surname, because f*ck respecting cops.

‘This him?’ asks Hopper. ‘The nephew?’

Hopper removes his sheriff’s hat, places it on the table, takes a chair, and doesn't take his eyes off Eddie.

Eddie sits opposite, after dragging his own chair and planting himself on it, and fixing Hopper with a withering glare.

He’d better f*cking find Steve. For once, Eddie would love to be proven wrong.

‘Sure am. You here to actually help us, or just for the ego boost?’

Hopper shoots Wayne a glance, chuckles.

‘Wow, okay. Got your work cut out for you here. You’re a braver man than me.’

‘Oh, he’s alright,’ Wayne smiles at Eddie, winks. ‘For a teenager. My baby sister's kid.’

Hopper retrieves a notebook from his pocket while Wayne fills the coffee pot, it’s night-time but it looks like they’re going to be here for a while.

Eddie sighs heavily. ‘He told you already. What else do you need to know? Why aren't you out there looking for him? Have you found the house yet? Do you know where he is?’

Hopper ignores his questions, flips back a few pages in his notebook, finds a section, and reads over what is written there, silently frowning.

Eddie wants to smack him. It's a miracle he stays seated, only starts scowling and crossing his arms.

‘Hold your horses. Your uncle said you met him in the woods a few nights back. How’d that happen? Were you, what… ? Just wandering around out there, and you randomly bump into a kid? It’s dangerous in the woods, you know that, yeah? Big difference to the city. There’s rivers, cliffs, wild things. Not a good idea to be out there alone after the sun sets.’

Um.

What ?

Eddie does not appreciate the unsolicited advice.

‘Noted,’ he smiles, all teeth. ‘I sort of… followed it? Followed him .’ Eddie admits this part cagily. Hopper stops writing and looks up at Eddie, expectant. Eddie clears his throat. They won’t find Steve unless he tells the truth, but he couldn't even tell Wayne this bit, he was too embarrassed by his own biology, secondary puberty on show for all to see. ‘I could kind of smell him.’

‘Oh,’ says Wayne.

Hopper’s notepad earns more scratches with a bitten-down nub of a pencil.

‘Kid’s presented already?’ Jim flips back another few pages. ‘And you say he’s a male omega? That’s pretty rare. Present company excluded.’

Wayne shrugs, doesn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

‘What age you say he was?’ Hopper asks Eddie.

‘I said, I think he’s about my age, thirteen.’

‘Got it. He might have been older though?’

‘No, I- I think he could have been younger . He didn't say. But his, his bedroom, uh-’

‘Hey. Stay with me, son.’ There’s a faint growl from Eddie’s chest at his misuse of that term. ‘Let me get this straight. You were wandering in the forest.’ Hopper doesn’t apologise for his mistake, that word , Eddie notices, but he also doesn’t dwell on it, he moves on swiftly. ‘And you came across a pup, thirteen, maybe younger, after following his scent from… how far back?’

‘Not sure.’

‘Under the length of a football field, or more?’

‘More.’ Eddie’s voice is shaky and he feels sick at what this line of questioning might mean for Steve and his oddball behaviour. It is dawning on him anyway, a new day which Eddie is wholly unprepared to face. ‘I was walking for a while, okay? But- he's not like that- It's, he can't be a whor* , he’s just a pup-’

The sheriff cuts Eddie off with a show of his teeth and a snarl.

It’s unnecessary. Eddie's ears are already ringing.

He didn't get it before.

He does now.

‘Watch your language,’ Hopper advises him gently, animal Alpha dominance politely tucked away. ‘No-one’s calling him that. And we just need the facts.’

Wayne is shaking his head, Eddie thinks he hears him mutter a curse word under his breath. Wayne doesn't usually swear.

‘I- I don’t actually think he’s a…’ Eddie puts his face in his hands. ‘Can you just find him?’ He squeezes his eyes shut, he really doesn't want to cry. ‘Please?’

He knew something was terribly wrong. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to look .

He let his friend down.

‘We will.’ Hopper pauses, writes something fast, in shorthand. ‘Now. You reckon he’s younger than you? Why’d you think that? Was he a little… underdeveloped?’

Eddie asks, ‘What?’ not to be cheeky but because he genuinely doesn't understand the question.

Steve isn’t underdeveloped . He seemed a little naive, childish, he likes to play, but Eddie has a growing sense that Steve is more experienced than him in many things.

‘You’re not in trouble,’ Hopper reminds him. ‘It’s just important that we have this information. So… tell me Eddie, did you have sexual relations with Steve?’

Eddie baulks.

This time he's offended.

‘What?! Absolutely not .’ His heart is racing and his palms are sweaty and Eddie wants to rip the room apart at the mere suggestion that he’d take advantage of some innocent kid who, bless him, can’t help it.

He also wants to find Steve and wrap him up, protect him from anyone who would even dream of doing that to him.

f*ckers .

Wayne puts his hand in Eddie’s, pulls him to standing.

‘Jim, can you give us a second?’

The other man watches them leave.

Wayne leads Eddie to his bedroom and sits him down on the edge of the bed, then joins Eddie beside him.

Eddie expects an interrogation, but what he gets is a hug. A really big one. Solid and warm.

Something he can relax into, maybe, some day.

He freezes at first, then he lets it happen a little, a tiny melt towards his uncle.

It's better than nothing.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Eddie doesn't know why Wayne is apologising to him. He lied, hid things, this is his fault. ‘Had no idea you were dealing with this, and all alone. You think you can keep going tonight? We can ask Jim to come back in the morning if you need? This is a lot to take in.’

It hadn’t even crossed Eddie’s mind to give up.

He shakes his head, resolute.

‘I’m good. It’s just- I should’ve told you sooner. I'm not brilliant at, like, asking for help.’ He winces. ‘Sorry.’

Wayne is smiling back at him, although his eyes are sad and watery.

‘Oh, Ed. No-one is, it's tough. But you’re doing it now … Proud of you. So, what do you think? You need another minute?’

‘No, I'm okay. I can do this.’

Wayne squeezes his shoulder once more, and follows Eddie back to the kitchen after he wipes his eyes.

Hopper is speaking into his police walkie-talkie. He puts one finger in the air as they enter.

‘Goes by Steve. Nope, no last name. Let’s say, eleven, twelve, could be younger, maybe a bit older. Try the sixth grade registers first. And I want the tri-county area covered by morning, that means addresses and contact details of every kid called Steve.’ There’s a pause in which a crackly voice complains, and Eddie and Wayne resume their positions at the table. ‘I don’t give a sh*t about your dinner going cold, Tommy. It’s kinda your job, so feel free to go ahead and go do it.’

Hopper releases the button to close the airwaves, and addresses Wayne instead of Eddie.

‘He good?’

All cops are…

Wayne checks in with Eddie, who nods with grim acceptance of the task at hand. ‘He’s okay to continue for a bit. This is heavy stuff though, so go easy on him. Yeah?’

To Eddie's surprise, Hopper apologises, says, ‘Course. I’ll be gentle. But I need to go over what happened in the house, last place you last saw him. That alright with you, kid?’

Eddie instinctively looks to Wayne for guidance, who puts a reassuring hand on his arm.

He can do this.

With Wayne on his side, and for Steve, he thinks he can be brave enough to tell a bastard everything.

***

Eddie describes leaving Steve in the house, and shame scalds his insides. It's hot and shocking, and it leaves him unable to feel much else.

Hopper doesn’t offer him any words of consolation or comfort, only asks Eddie to repeat a few points.

It’s good. He doesn’t deserve it.

‘You have enough to find him?’ Eddie asks tentatively.

Hopper doesn’t mince words. ‘Not sure. There’s whole developments backing onto the woods, three towns, hundreds of houses up on the hills. Loads of ‘em will likely match the description you've given. We’ve got somewhere to start, but realistically we’re missing a surname, address, age… It’s not gonna be straightforward.’

Eddie steels himself. ‘I’d recognise it for sure, I’ll come with.’

Hopper smiles, ‘That’s… unnecessary, and impractical, but thanks.’ Eddie rolls his eyes, he hates the certainty of grown ups, the way he casually dismissed Eddie’s pretty damn good suggestion, probably just because it came from a kid. Cops are dicks, even when they’re trying to be helpful. ‘With what you’ve given me, it probably won’t be enough for a warrant, so let’s see if he’s registered with a school district first, or if anyone in town has seen him.’

‘What? You’re not gonna search?’ Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing. There’s a ringing in his ears which won’t stop, or get any less high-pitched. ‘Why not ?’

Hopper puts down his pencil and notebook. ‘I’ve put out an APB for him already. We'll search for him too, don't worry. Cover all the bases. We’ll find him. Unless…’

A look passes between Wayne and Hopper, and Wayne shakes his head, looks mildly aggrieved.

Eddie is a curious kid, he likes to know things.

He doesn't ask about the look .

Everything is starting to feel muted. Eddie is distracted, thinking about how good it will feel when he eventually sees Steve again.

How he’ll want to scoop him up in his arms, hold him close.

How he won’t do that. Not without asking first.

He’ll respect Steve’s wishes, treat him right this time.

Let him come to Eddie.

So, he doesn’t notice the glance between the two men. Isn’t paying attention to the fretful look in his uncle’s eyes.

The fantasy has taken over.

Eddie doesn’t want to think about what’s real, or what's not.

He only wants to indulge himself, to escape from this, and be buried in the soil of his fertile imagination.

***

‘My hands are tied,’ Hopper says over the phone to Eddie, in response to his demand that they raid every house which even vaguely matches the description of the house he left Steve in. It’s been days, almost another whole week, and still no news. ‘And don’t you get any ideas about helping. Leave it to law enforcement.’

‘He’s been missing two weeks. At least.’

‘Well, we don’t know that, don’t actually know anything really. Could’ve been here on holiday. Look, I’ll come round to yours after my shift, okay? We’ll talk then.’

Eddie hangs up. All he wants to do is curl up in his bed.

So that’s what he does. It’s where he spends a lot of his time these days.

When he arrives, they congregate in the kitchen, Eddie, Hopper, and Wayne.

Hopper gets straight down to business, which Eddie appreciates.

‘I have to ask you this. Okay?’

‘I didn’t ,’ Eddie begins to protest, he's being whiny but he really doesn’t like talking about this part of it. He has had to repeat it a few times already, and doesn’t understand why he keeps being asked the same questions, it’s a waste of energy they could be using to look for Steve. ‘He asked me to, I never…’

‘Not that,’ Hopper stops him curtly. ‘How’ve you been feeling lately? Been feeling okay or…?’

Eddie blinks at him, caught off guard by concern coming from a uniform. ‘I feel like I’m going batsh*t crazy, how do you think I'm feeling?’

‘I think… you’ve had a tough time lately.’ Hopper glances at Wayne, who is stony-faced. ‘Pretty… unfortunate home life, and you were going down a bad path, so I hear. Criminal charges…’ he holds up his hands, mock surrender, ‘and hey, no judgement from me… but, well, then your uncle here, he took you in. Which is great, good for you, right?’ Hopper shrugs, he's not even trying to beat the bastard allegations right now. ‘But it’s an upheaval. Movin’ interstate, it’s a total hassle, and you had to leave all your friends behind, didn't you? Your mom ? That’s gotta be rough. Not to mention those raging hormones of yours, because, believe it or not, I do actually remember thirteen and…? Yeah, it must be hell for you. That’s all I’m sayin’.’

‘Make your point, Jim,’ Wayne says, unflinching and calm.

‘Right. So it wouldn’t be the first time an Alpha pup showing early signs of presenting got a little… confused.’

Eddie glances back and forth between his uncle and the sheriff.

‘What…?’

‘Let a fantasy he's been having a lot lately sort of… run away from him? What do you think, Eddie? Think that might be possible here?’

Eddie is grimly amused, it's such perfect symmetry.

Steve thought he was imaginary. And Eddie had agreed with him, said he was his imaginary friend.

But what if Steve was actually his ?

Eddie barks out a laugh. ‘You think I imagined a whole missing kid? Sure. Why not? Makes your job a whole lot easier, doesn’t it?’

Wayne says to Hopper, ‘Hey, I may not know much about it, but hallucinations are meant to be rare, I think. Aren't they? Not totally unheard of, but…’ he turns to Eddie. ‘Not that it'd be your fault, if- I think, Jim’s just gotta explore the possibility. Isn’t that right?’

Hop didn't get his notebook out on this visit. He's paying close attention to Eddie though, sizing him up.

‘Yeah,’ he says unconvincingly, ‘just wanna rule it out.’

Eddie wants to flip the table, smash up the trailer.

Show them his rage, command and compel them to take action.

Make them obey.

He wants to control the situation, and then-

What?

Eddie’s fists are balled and his fingernails are imprinting half-moons in his palms as he contemplates Steve being a make-believe kid who doesn’t even know he’s imaginary.

It's a tragic comedy.

Steve would find this so f*cking funny.

Eddie swallows back fresh tears.

He wants to do something, but maybe not the thing he strictly wants to do.

He has to convince them that this really happened, that Steve isn’t imaginary, in order to get help for him. To save him.

He isn’t going to do that by losing his temper, acting as crazy as Hopper clearly thinks he is.

‘I didn’t imagine Steve,’ he insists, wiping his eyes. ‘I remember everything about him, except where he is. And I know how that sounds, okay? But I remember his freckles, his moles.’ Eddie touches his own face, taps his jawline and above his right eyebrow, ‘Have I told you that? They were here, and here. I could uh, draw them for you, if you like? And I remember…’ Eddie’s breath hitches. ‘I remember exactly what he was wearing, the colours of his clothes, where the stains were. And… and what he smelled like. He smelled like the whole forest , but like… like it was burning. I don’t know. It was weird. Kinda strong, and smoky. He knew the names of all the trees. Did I tell you that too? Yeah. When we walked to… the house, he told me all about them, but I, uh, I don’t remember. I wasn’t really listening. Should have been. Wish I- I just- I liked listening to the sound of his voice, I think. He-’

Eddie has to stop speaking, he’s crying too hard, he can’t get the words out.

Wayne hugs him, says into his ear, ‘Oh Ed. I believe you.’

‘We both do,’ says the man with the gun. ‘It's okay. We'll keep looking.’

It isn’t okay.

Eddie got to know Steve for a brief time only, and now, he is nothing but a memory.

Nothing about this is okay.

***

The days bleed into one another, and Eddie stops getting dressed in the daytime. He only puts on clean clothes and washes when he’s reminded by Wayne.

It's Wayne who gently reminds him that school will start soon, in a couple of weeks.

‘It’ll be good, get you out of the house more often,’ he smiles softly. ‘You remember sunlight?’

He means well.

He’s wrong.

Eddie doesn’t want to get out more, bask in the sun like a happy little lizard.

He has turned nocturnal. Goes out exactly once every twenty four hours, at night.

Best chance of Steve being there.

The rest of the time, he only wants to curl up, sleep forever.

No-one in town recalls a brown-eyed, brown-haired omega called Steve, aged between eight and fourteen.

No records have been identified with a boy matching his description.

The cops gather a search party, get volunteers to trail the woods. Dogs bark and flashlights bounce between trees behind the trailer park, well in the night.

They dredge the quarry pool, hoping to find him.

Not him .

Not Steve. Just maybe a lifeless little body, in the shape of the boy who took his breath away.

Eddie doesn’t know whether to be relieved or not when they keep finding nothing.

Hopper charters a plane, a clunky four-seater, and a local pilot to fly him and Eddie over the rows of gardens carved from the woods in an attempt to identify the house from above. It's no use. There are too many lagoon-shaped pools near the tree-line to count, in cookie-cutter identical shapes.

Must've used the same pool guy.

It’s almost like Steve never existed, Eddie thinks, from up in the sky.

He has never been on a plane before, always wanted to, but all he can think about is Steve .

Where is he?

Which is when Eddie starts to wonder, what if Steve actually didn’t exist?

What if I hallucinated the whole thing?

How would I know?

***

The first day of school is tomorrow, he’s entering the eighth grade, and Eddie has only left the house to search the woods at night-time for weeks.

He feels vampiric, pale and ill.

Mainly because he hasn’t seen daylight for weeks despite Wayne’s best efforts.

His nightly ritual involves scouring the cliffs, skirting the pool beneath, going to the base of the tree and peering at the tallest branches, then trying in vain again to find the path to the house.

Wayne joins him when he can, when he isn’t on shift.

They circle the route in silence, out of respect for what they might find.

Tonight, Eddie is alone.

Tonight, the woods are speaking to him.

Whispering things he doesn’t want to hear, as he trudges the path, widened and worn by circuits of interlocking footsteps.

***

It is windy and cloudy tonight, barely any stars visible, but Eddie has an artificial light.

The trees are saying things meant to comfort him, like if Eddie made him up, then Steve can’t be hurt.

Maybe that would be better?

Eddie imagines floating above himself, and watching himself talking to Steve, except Steve isn't there, he's invisible.

It's just Eddie.

Jumping in the quarry for no reason, climbing a tall tree even though he hates heights, finding the whiskey bottle and finishing it on the cliffs, then breaking into a random house on his own volition.

Chattering away to himself.

It sounds crazy.

But not impossible.

Wayne and Hopper accepted pretty quickly that he couldn’t have made Steve up. He was so emotional, they felt sorry for him.

Maybe they got it wrong.

Maybe Eddie actually has an amazing imagination from years of inhaling weighty fantasy novels like oxygen, reading them in single sittings, even as his eyes droop and the school-day looms.

Eddie pushes late-summer vines which are hanging over the path out of his way, and imagines the hormones surging through his blood, flooding his brain.

Changing his perceptions until he’s the mentally ill one, and Steve was Eddie’s imaginary friend, right from the beginning.

It’s unlikely.

Again, not impossible .

His fantasy is a boy, and then, there he was. Steve.

Cute and sharp and oh so lovely .

Eddie has known he likes boys instead of girls for a while, but Steve is his first proper crush.

His perfect fantasy, because he also gave Eddie the opportunity to save him.

Which he f*cked up.

If Eddie laughs when he's alone in the forest, does it make a sound?

And like… trust Eddie’s dumb brain to make up a boy who thinks he’s the imaginary one.

Typical.

Precisely the kind of twisted sh*t he would pull on himself.

Did he ever even touch Steve?

Would his hand have passed through the image of him if he’d tried?

Eddie realises then that he’s been scratching his own arms as he walks, opening up red welts, drawing painful lines with his nails.

He feels funny.

Kind of hazy, and hot. Lost.

He isn’t lost.

He turns the same corner as always, taking him up a winding and perilous path to the ledge above the quarried rock.

By the edge of the cliff, there stands a boy, barefoot on stone, and shaking.

He has his back to Eddie, arms wrapped around himself.

It’s Steve.

Eddie is gobsmacked.

He’s wearing only underwear.

He smells of nothing .

It's Steve though, he's real, and he's here.

‘Steve,’ says Eddie. ‘Woah… are you okay?’

***

‘You c-came b-back,’ Steve says haltingly, glancing back over his shoulder.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, he forgets his previous best intentions about giving Steve space, respecting his wishes.

He’s here.

He’s real .

Isn’t he?

Eddie strides across the clearing and gets his body in between Steve and the cliff-face, he's closer to the edge so it's safer, and grabs Steve in a rough bear hug.

Eddie squeezes Steve, and he whimpers.

‘You’re shivering. Must be freezing- Here. Take this.’

Eddie shrugs off his leather jacket, a parting gift from his mom. He places it over the smaller boy’s shoulders, it's way too big.

Steve's teeth are chattering.

He’s looking at the ground instead of at Eddie, and he seems smaller now, thinner.

Eddie closes the coat around him.

He tries to hold Steve’s hands, but the other boy only groans and closes his eyes. It’s an ugly, pained noise.

Steve shows his fingers to Eddie. They are bruised and mangled.

Eddie has been in enough fights to recognise defensive wounds when he sees them.

‘Oh, Steve.’

‘G-got away,’ Steve still isn’t making eye contact. ‘Took ‘em so they wouldn’t find me… and I c-couldn’t do it, they said I had to, but I couldn’t - you don’t know, you don’t know -’

His tone is rising alarmingly quickly, and Eddie shushes him.

The leather jacket falls open, revealing a patchwork of bruises, from his neck to his thighs.

Some are older, many fresh. Just horrific.

For now, it is simple enough for Eddie though. He is just happy to see Steve. To get to know him. Keep him safe.

Steve cries, although he is trying to calm himself down. He’s struggling to do it, hiccuping through wretched sobs. Eddie lets Steve lean on him while he makes soothing circles on his back until he quietens a bit, his own mind racing.

He’s glad he isn’t crazy.

Does that make him a bad person?

Steve is in pain, and Eddie is f*cking happy about it.

‘Let’s get you home, baby.’

Steve suddenly hits Eddie with the full force of his desperate eyes. ‘No . Won’t go. Can’t make me.’

Eddie tries to smile encouragingly. ‘Not your house, silly. Mine . Don’t worry, my uncle Wayne knows about you. I told him, and he’s so excited to meet you. That’s nice, huh? He'll love you. What do you say, can you hop up here, honey? That’s it. Just like that.’

He’s holding out his arms like a cradle and motioning for Steve to get into it, who takes the hint and wraps his arms around his neck, lets himself be lifted.

Steve is soft, light, barely there.

‘Good, doing so well,’ Eddie whispers, as Steve makes himself comfortable, or as comfortable as he can be with his injuries. ‘Not imaginary at all, were we?’

‘Mm, no.’

Steve buries his face in Eddie’s neck. His throat is exposed from this position, bare. There’s no biting mark, not that Eddie can see.

And thank god for that.

Alphas like to trap male omegas, own them, hunt and hurt.

They're monsters .

He's one of them.

Still, he can try.

***

Eddie brings Steve home as quickly as he can, while making the journey as smooth for him as possible.

He does an okay job of it, he thinks. Steve might have fallen asleep at one point. He has stopped shivering, his breathing steady against Eddie’s skin.

‘You came back.’ When Steve mumbles, he sounds horribly confused. ‘Knew he would, saw it. We're friends .’

Eddie has so many questions.

For just now, he is content to ask only the most important one.

‘You think I could ever leave you? Hm? You think I’d do that to you?’

Steve is quiet, a warmth in his arms.

Eddie knows this route like the back of his hand.

He kisses the boy’s hair while he nuzzles into his neck, and when he gets home he kicks in Wayne’s front door.

The door is lightweight, and the lock gives .

Wayne and Hopper’s heads snap up to face them. Hopper has his gun out, but he doesn’t shoot. He drops his arm instead and asks, ‘Is that-?’

Eddie sets him down, and Steve looks up to him.

‘Can you say hi to the nice men, Steve? This is Wayne, and this is Hopper, he's a policeman.’

Steve steps half-behind Eddie, operation human shield .

‘Um, hi?’ he says around Eddie's shoulder, phrases it like a question.

Eddie's leather jacket falls open, and Wayne gasps.

Steve’s bruises are lurid, but at least he’s alive.

It's not enough.

It’ll have to be.

***

Present Day

“Mr Brightside”

Coming out of my cage
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss
Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest now
He takes off her dress now
Let me go
And I just can't look, it's killing me
And taking control

-The Killers

Kissing Eddie was a colossal mistake.

Obviously it was.

Steve has wanted to kiss his best friend since for years, but he still manages to f*ck it up. He regrets it immediately, even before the spit, and he fully expects to suffer the consequences.

He thinks maybe he needs them.

Steve endures the silent car journey back to the Munson trailer on the edge of his seat, waiting to be read the riot act, ordered to leave by morning.

He has ideas about where he might end up. None of them are pretty.

It's fine though. Because maybe Steve deserves ugly. It matches how he feels inside, where everything is damaged, dirty.

It doesn't feel good, but it fits.

A familiar sense of hopelessness settles on him, comforting inevitability blanketing out his prickly anxiety.

This is just how it goes, with him.

When it doesn't happen, when Wayne and Eddie say their goodnights like normal and retire to their bedrooms, Steve is upset. He doesn't do well with unfinished business.

Steve knocks softly on Eddie's bedroom door and beckons an irritated-looking Eddie to join him out front.

They go outside together.

‘What gives?’ Steve wants to know.

‘What, Steve? Summer school starts Monday, and I’d like to get some sleep between now and then, if that’s okay with you.’ He pulls a cigarette from behind one ear and pats his pockets, he's only wearing jeans. ‘Hey, have you seen my lighter?’

Steve is cross now, anger winning out over more complicated feelings. He doesn't know what kind of game this is.

He has his hands on his hips and a tremor in his voice when he confronts Eddie.

‘What? No . And what do you think? The kiss , dumbass. You got something to say about it?’

Eddie scratches himself down there , and Steve looks away, he doesn't need to see that. Eddie does this though, gets nasty and brash when he wants to avoid a problem, as if that’s gonna achieve anything except pissing Steve off more.

He wears trailer trash like a badge he has earned the hard way, Eddie is unapologetic.

‘Nope. You?’

‘Come on, you can give it to me straight. You’re mad at me. I can tell.’

A grimace twists Eddie’s expression, crumples it like a used tissue. ‘I’m not angry at you.’

Steve’s heart beats faster.

He’s lying, has to be.

‘Well, maybe you should be. What I did was-’

‘I'm not.’ Eddie is rubbing his face with his palm, frustrated and exasperated, he's a f*cking liar . ’It was whatever. Think I made my feelings pretty clear earlier, didn’t I? What, you want me to draw you a picture?’

‘I'm all set,’ Steve sneers, wishes he had more than this impotent mix of fear and rage at his disposal, but he doesn't. ‘So, what? You're gonna tell Wayne about it? Get me kicked out?’

Eddie looks at him, a heavy gaze. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you?’

‘No.’ Steve wants to offer him something, it’s a small gift, but one he can give. ‘It’s fine, I’ll be gone in the morning, just gimme a couple of hours, yeah? I'll be out of your hair.’

Eddie laughs, zero humour. ‘Oh yeah? Where to, Steve? Got those letting agents fighting over your precious custom, huh?’

Steve’s cheeks burn.

How did he know?

‘You know I don’t.’

‘Well then.’ Eddie shrugs, eyes trained on the grass. ‘f*ckin’... stay .’

Steve doesn’t understand it, he craves the smack of consequence, the justice of punishment, otherwise he’s just… what?

Waiting for it?

His nerves can’t handle that.

‘Why don’t you want to tell Wayne?’ It dawns on Steve then, what Eddie wants, what he’s doing here. ‘Oh. I see.’

Steve is smiling.

Eddie is scowling.

‘What do you see? Actually, forget it. I don’t care what you think, you cryptic little-’

‘You don’t wanna tell Wayne, because then he’ll find out what you did. And you feel guilty, that’s why.’

‘Got nothin’ to feel guilty for,’ Eddie says, shifting on his feet, he is hardly able to look at Steve anymore.

‘You spat in my face.’

‘And you -’ Eddie shakes his head, shoves his hands deep in his pockets and stares at the ground. ‘Look. I won’t say sh*t to anyone, okay? And if you have to know why, it's because I’m embarrassed, and so should you. We were acting like children. Both of us.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Steve teases lightly, but really he can’t believe his luck.

He wasn’t looking forward to sleeping at the bus station, fending off random Alphas at strip-light midnight.

Eddie sighs. ‘I’ve had enough of this… Whatever it is. I'm tired, Steve. I’m heading in. You can stay here as long as you need. I don’t care. And I’m not gonna tell Wayne, but only because he doesn’t need this sh*t either. Okay?’

‘Sure, yeah.’

Eddie nods once, turns to leave, before he stops again. Without turning around again, facing the trailer, he adds, ‘And don’t touch me like that, ever again. It wasn’t okay.’

‘Fine .’

The door shuts behind Eddie.

Steve is elated.

He won’t have to pay rent. Steve can use his arrangement with Billy to make bank , use that to pay Murray, and trade this pain he's feeling for cold, hard data.

It is terrible and exciting, his destiny is.

It’ll be okay.

Eddie is back inside but he left the door on the latch for Steve.

He’s a bit irritating sometimes, overbearing and with his black-and-white thinking, a martyr and a hypocrite, but fundamentally, Eddie is a decent guy. He has saved Steve more than once, and in more than one way.

Steve wouldn't put him in that position again. No, it's much better if Eddie hates him, he'll be less tempted to try to help.

But he's also in luck, Eddie hasn't told him to move out, because he’s a good guy. He means well. He cares about people.

He’s really f*cking hot now, too.

The tutu .

It makes Steve wet between the legs just thinking about it, and if he dreams tonight of six foot four tattooed ballerinas in chunky black knee-high boots, well, that’s his business.

Overall, he's just glad that Eddie isn't telling Wayne, and that he can stay. Shame is a spiral, and what he did to Hop is a loop long enough for one lifetime.

It isn't exactly good , keeping secrets from Wayne, but what is?

Anyway, it doesn't matter. He probably only has a few weeks left until…

Steve doesn't like to think about what's coming next.

He wishes that things could have been different for him and Eddie, that he could have been different, better.

Can't win ‘em all.

But maybe… maybe one more kiss could be on the cards?

A last kiss, with Eddie. Not the first, but a real one.

Because Eddie Munson is the only person Steve Harrington has ever wanted to give a freebie to.

And despite what Eddie said, he sees the way he looks at him sometimes, like he did when he was fifteen.

***

“Black Swan”

People get crushed like biscuit crumbs
And laid down in the bitumen
You have tried your best to please everyone
But it just isn't happening
No, it just isn't happening

And that is f*cked up, f*cked up
Well, this is f*cked up, f*cked up
This is your blind spot, blind spot
It should be obvious, but it's not

You cannot kick-start a dead horse
You just cross yourself and walk away
I don't care what the future holds
'Cause I'm right here and I'm today
With your fingers you can touch me

I am your black swan, black swan

-Thom Yorke

It is Sunday afternoon and Nancy and Robin have come over to visit Eddie and Steve, respectively.

They ate a meal Eddie prepared earlier, and watched a movie. There's a palpable tension between the boys, but they seem to have come to a silent agreement that the less the girls know about it the better.

Eddie tells Nancy most things, he hasn’t told her about Steve.

Now, he wonders why not.

She’s great, his rock. They bonded at first over a shared refusal to live up to stereotypes: the extroverted nerd, and the smart and capable, petite and pretty girl.

They grew closer when he supported her through the whole Jason debacle.

He felt comfortable confiding in her about Miami, his parents, Wayne, but he left Steve out of it.

It’s him and her now, on his bed, listening to the sounds of Robin and Steve, giggling in the front room.

He’d asked for Nancy's opinion, so it's his own stupid fault when he gets it. She doesn't mince words, which he likes about her. Usually.

‘I think it's a really bad idea, sorry,’ says sweet, lovely Nancy, who is right about most things, but she’s dead wrong about this. ‘One of your worst. I hear going off suppressants suddenly can be dangerous, like an alcoholic quitting booze one day. You can have seizures. Have you spoken to a doctor about this? Wayne? Steve ?’

Eddie bristles, doesn’t want to hear his name.

Doesn’t want to hear any of this.

He only told Nancy about his plan to wean himself off his suppressants because he wants someone on his side; preferably a nice, non-judgmental person who can soothe the sense of wrongness.

Okay, so maybe Nancy Wheeler was a bad pick for that. She has a sense of justice a mile wide, isn’t afraid to say it like it is.

Whatever.

He has a right to be selfish, for once.

Doesn't he?

This isn’t fair, he doesn’t want logic. He wants support.

‘Nah,’ he says dismissively. ‘I’ve been reading up on it.’ He points vaguely to a couple of library books on his shelf. ‘Apparently, it’s safe to halve your dose, then taper from there. They put you on double strength by default because the government doesn't even trust Alphas to take the right dose. How f*cked up is that ?’

Nancy knows him too well, they’ve been good friends for a couple of years. She can tell when Eddie is about to go off on a semi-political conspiracy theory tangent as an attempt to derail a conversation he isn't enjoying anymore.

She's as unbothered as they come.

‘That’s good. But Steve’s an omega , babe,’ she reminds him, as if he needs reminding, as if the bittersweet scent doesn’t keep Eddie awake at night. ‘He’ll know. He’s not like Wayne, although, your uncle would probably want to know. Steve’s body might, you know… react to it. To you.’

She’s right.

Of course she is.

Nancy’s a smart cookie, and she cares enough about people to be interested in things like this, bodily autonomy and consent and…

‘Ugh,’ Eddie moans, flops onto his back. ‘I know. I know , alright? But I can just… not let it go anywhere, right? It takes two to tango. And I love the guy, I do. It’s just… f*ck Steve. You know?’

She lays down next to him and holds his hand in hers, it's as dainty and delicate as she is fierce.

She knows how to make him feel better, it’s what friends do.

Steve is no friend of Eddie’s.

Not quite .

It was like this from the beginning though, their bond heightened by Eddie's infatuation and Steve's inclination towards inappropriate behaviour.

The beautiful boy who flirted with disaster, coveted the consequence, and Eddie, who would do anything to impress him, protect him, and fail each time.

The vortex this would take them into.

‘I don't,’ Nancy admits. ‘You wanna tell me?’

Eddie shakes his head, disheartened. ‘Dunno where to start.’

Nancy’s warm hand snakes up his arm, to his shoulder, gives it a brief squeeze.

‘I know something happened between you two at the pool. And you really seem to have a strange… dynamic going on.’ Nancy waits for confirmation. Eddie says nothing, just shrugs with one shoulder, maybe pouts a little. ‘He’s been through a lot, huh?’

Eddie rolls on his side. Nancy’s hand slides off him, so she turns too, matches him.

She’s being kind, even when he’s being a jackass. She's trying to understand.

‘Yeah. I can’t really talk about that,’ Eddie says glumly.

Nancy nods. She understands implicitly, she's been through some bad times too.

f*cking Jason , and the surprise abortion after he lied about using a condom. Her first sexual partner, too. Setting the jock precedent like a professional asshole . She hasn't been with a man since.

Eddie would still love to kick the sh*t out of Jason for that. The only thing stopping him is Nancy, who wouldn't let him jeopardise his future for the sake of petty revenge.

Because she's a real friend, unlike Steve.

‘No problem. It’s tough being friends with people like that, hm?’

He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, it was out of place.

‘Huh?’

‘People who are having a really hard time. It kinda… bleeds through, doesn’t it? If you love them?’

Eddie snorts. ‘Good choice of metaphor. Loving Steve’s a f*ckin’ blood sport alright.’

Nancy smiles questioningly, faintly bemused.

He doesn’t know if he should do it. Share . He hasn’t told anyone the full story of the origin of his scar, not the cops, not even Wayne .

Maybe now is the time.

Eddie trusts Nancy, and isn’t ashamed of his past tendencies, or his unhealthy coping mechanisms….

Ahem, hello , smoking way too much.

Anyway, the point is, he was a damaged kid as well, Steve doesn't have a monopoly on it.

He can do this, he needs someone to know why this is so important to him.

Eddie lifts his fringe, shows her the scar buried in his hairline, a white line of about six inches. An extra parting, covered by reams of fluffy curls.

‘Got this beauty, the summer I was fifteen, courtesy of a certain Steve Harrington.’

She leans in and touches it, traces the silky line with gentle awe.

‘What the hell? Did he hurt you?’

Eddie lets his fringe fall and shakes his head. He’s already getting emotional simply by bringing it up.

Shaken, like the fight is happening to him still. His mouth is dry and his skull feels too small for his brain.

The scar isn’t so bad.

It gets a little tight when he’s cold, and he had to spend a few nights in the ICU afterwards, it was bleeding so much he needed a transfusion.

Wayne was really worried about him, that was the sh*ttest thing about it.

Eddie hates worrying Wayne, he's done so much to help him.

He let him down.

His scar is hardly the extent of the damage too, much worse things happened that summer, the scar might just be the only thing still visible.

‘Nah. He didn’t do anything, he wouldn't. It's just- it's sort of complicated.’ Nancy strokes his hand, patiently waits for him to finish. ‘I guess… okay so I spent a lot of time protecting him, when we were kids. Steve was- f*ck , he was such an easy target. He’d piss people off without even realising it, but then he wouldn't fight back. Until he did , which was worse, somehow. And I was an asshole back then. Scrappy, self-righteous… a total prick sometimes.’

‘Really, you ? Shock horror,’ she teases lightly.

‘Heeeey,’ he grins, the tension in the room broken in a fine line fracture, although his fingers are still shaking as he tells her the rest. ‘Anyway , as I was saying, I got in a fight with some of the older boys, where he was staying. They were picking on Steve, and it wasn't good, they were… but that’s his story to tell.’ Eddie hesitates, he still wants to say more about his part in it, some of Steve's story is his story, too. ‘But uh, one of them… he sort of had a knife.’

She touches his arm, strokes it. ‘I’m sorry, honey. That’s horrible.’

Eddie gets up, blows his nose. Can’t stand that he’s being so emotional over an old memory.

He'd figured he was over it, he hardly even thinks of it anymore, he let his hair grow long and tried to forget it happened.

He thought he was going to die, though.

And while Steve was sitting nearby, on his ass watching , he didn’t try to pull the kid off Eddie or anything.

He was outnumbered, they both were. It would’ve been pointless. Steve could have gotten hurt as well.

It still stung.

Not long after that, a matter of weeks, they had their own fight. Their first and their last, until now.

‘Yeah. But like, that's why I need to do this,’ Eddie explains urgently, he really needs her to see , for someone to understand this unfortunate situation he has found himself in. ‘For me. Nothing to do with him. I need to pass summer school this year, Nance. You get that, right? Going off the pills, it's supposed to help with concentration, at least that's what the books say, so I need to try it, don't I? I can't repeat senior year again. Seriously. I'll drop out if I don't pass this time, I'll do it. You just watch.’

Nancy is absently playing with his hair, twisting it around her finger and avoiding eye contact.

She doesn't agree.

She also graduated magna cum laude last year, she's been working for the local newspaper but she’s going wherever she wants to college this fall, she’s been offered full-rides from her top three.

‘Yeah, I get that. It's a dilemma.’ She’s trying to be supportive but remains unconvinced. ‘So, you’re doing this then? No matter what anyone says?’

Eddie feels like he's digging his own grave.

‘Yep. Pretty much.’

A scratchy feeling gathers on his skin, covers him.

Two wrongs don't make a right.

But what about a dozen?

Or more than that?

Because there were many times that Steve sat back and let Eddie fight his battles for him, watched him bleed, then offered him something he didn't want in return for it… sex.

Except, he did , Eddie did want that.

But the idea of wanting anything slightly like that from Steve, even an innocent kiss, made him feel guilty, and grim.

Instead, he fought and bled and loved and lied for Steve, and couldn't ever win.

‘And you won’t be telling Wayne or Steve about it?’

He shakes his head, emphatic.

‘Okay. Mind me asking why not?’

Eddie throws his hands in the air. ‘Because… f*cking Steve !’

She blinks prettily, isn't ever put off by Eddie’s melodrama. ‘Elaborate, please?’

‘Ugh. He'd just freak out. Tell Wayne. Then Wayne would worry, decide Steve needs to move out, and he literally has nowhere else to go, okay? And the guilt , man, it would eat me alive. Nah. If doing this makes Steve end up somewhere… unsafe… I'd never forgive myself. Believe me, I've thought about this a lot, and it’s better this way.’

And if he's staying here, I can keep looking out for him.

That's what he doesn't say.

Nancy’s expression is grave.

‘Hey, I'm on your side. But does he need to move out? I'm serious. I could ask Robin if she knows anywhere…’

She’s trying so hard to give him what he wants and what he needs.

It’s sweet, what friends do for each other. Stretch the truth, fudge it a little, but they keep you right in the end.

Eddie reaches for more honesty, he doesn’t want to lie to Nancy.

‘I don’t think so. I really have been reading up on it. Promise. And like, any changes should be gradual, bit by bit. I’ll keep a logbook. Treat it like- like a science experiment? How's that? I’ve been told I look like a guinea pig anyway, so….’

She laughs, pursed lips cracking into a grin. It’s a throwback to how they met, lab partners in junior year, causing a minor explosion which caused the school to have to refurbish the upper floor of B Block.

‘True,’ she chuckles, pinching his cheek.

Eddie bats her away, then grabs for her hand.

‘I wouldn’t hurt him, Nance. You gotta believe me. You didn't know me when I met Steve, but I just… I wouldn't. Couldn't . It's complicated between us, but basically, I'd f*ckin’ die first. Seriously. No joke.’

She furrows her brows. ‘I know you wouldn’t, not on purpose.’

Eddie rallies, she’s getting there, where he wants her to be.

‘Or by accident. I’ll watch out for any signs of… inappropriateness. Cease and desist, straight away. Pinky promise.’

She tentatively takes his pinky finger in hers, shakes it.

‘Omega obsession?’

Eddie loves Nancy, he knew she'd get it eventually.

It's the omega in Steve he is drawn to. Mostly.

He can control his feelings, or increase the dose again if he needs to.

No problemo.

‘Sure,’ he nods enthusiastically. ‘Anything Steve-centric, I'll nip it in the bud.’

She nods back warily, like she doesn’t have a choice, and she doesn't, not really. Eddie is stubborn when it comes to making a decision.

‘What about knotting? You think you can keep that hidden too? I hear your dick grows and you're desperate for it when you're in rut.’

‘Gross,’ Eddie laughs. ‘Can we please not talk about my dick for one day? You’re the obsessed one.’

Nancy is one of the minority of female Alphas in body and mind, which make up about 2% of the Alpha population.

She has expressed disappointment in that regard, namely her lack of knotting capabilities. Something which Robin, who is also part of the 2%, has been enthusiastically helping her to get over.

She plays four kinds of wind instruments, according to Nancy.

Eddie chooses not to pursue that line of enquiry for the sake of his sanity.

He also blames this obsession of Nancy’s for the Jason blip, the fact that she was fascinated with dick, even though she already wasn't a big fan of men in general, she’s got daddy issues too and an annoying little brother to boot.

The day she discovered she might be a bi girl with big cl*t energy was a happy day for Eddie.

‘You love it,’ Nancy teases.

Eddie snorts. ‘I do not. You’re like a sister to me.’

She’s grinning now, a mischievous spark in her eye, a sure-fire sign that she's about to say something emotionally devastating.

‘Damn right. Anyway… you love Steve?’

He hits her lightly with a pillow, causing her to retaliate.

‘I take it back, you're my sister's evil twin.’

Nancy laughs, ‘Still your sister then, doofus.’

Eddie can hear Steve talking to Robin in the next room, and he's distracted by it. Steve's voice is slightly more audible than Robin’s, and he thinks he can hear tones that he couldn't hear before, read Steve’s emotions in them like words in a book.

Steve is worried. That's not good.

Robin is telling him… something. Oh, he's worried about something for her .

That's better. Not ideal. Just better than the alternative.

Eddie snapped his first pill in half this evening, necked one half and flushed the other.

Is the lower dose having an effect already?

If so, that's amazing.

‘Oh, yeah.’ He smiles at Nancy, but his ears are also alert, listening for signs that omega is safe . ‘You're right.’

‘Always am.’

‘Really? Never noticed…’

The next hit hurts.

***

Eddie has been noticing a lot of things.

It's the pills, has to be.

And thank f*ck for that .

Because it's stuff like… Steve is up to some bullsh*t. For sure he is.

And Eddie knows Steve, or he used to, so he is aware that it's likely something objectively dangerous. Risky.

To be fair, hiding things is practically Steve's modus operandi , so he shouldn't be that surprised. Everything Steve does is like a mild electric shock to Eddie's system though, whether delightful or terrible.

And Steve has been acting like a secret agent since he started living with them a few weeks ago. He is out all hours, doesn't tell anyone where he's going, and he's cagey when answering innocent questions about how he spends his time.

This is different though. He seems happy.

Happy for Steve, but still.

here come the tides (rewind) - ohthejomanity (2024)

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References