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cuppachar · 15 days

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Just started reading a Fic where Tommy Hagan went missing instead of Barbara and it’s got me feeling things and thinking things. Like, let’s not even get into how perfectly Steve’s grief over losing Tommy like that could have been paralleled in S4 when Max struggles with Billy’s death.

I’m just imagining a Season 1 Steddie AU where Eddie finds Steve breaking down in the bathroom because the whole school is acting like it’s a blessing that Tommy disappeared. Steve is baffled. Absolutely shocked. Have they really been so shitty to people that they celebrate when one of them disappears?

And Carol doesn’t get it. If anything she’s been shittier since Tommy went missing. Playing up the grieving girlfriend out of one side of her face while talking shit out the other.

Nancy gets it in a vague ‘I’m so sorry for you’ sense but her brothers best friend went missing too and she keeps giving him these looks before skulking off with Jonathan Byers and Barbara Holland. Like she knows something she doesn’t want to say out loud.

So Steve is just here, crying in a stall in the second floor bathroom that smells vaguely of formaldehyde because it’s right next to the biology storage closet where Mr. Bingham let those fetal pigs get a little too ripe. He’s stuck in one spot, can’t seem to move, because Tommy was his friend.

And okay maybe he’s realizing what assholes they became and maybe he’s starting to resent Tommy a little bit for it all but Tommy isn’t here. Steve wants to throw up his hands and yell and kick and scream more than a little bit but Tommy isn’t here. Steve spent the weekend at the Hagans calling every police station and hospital this side of Indiana with an arm around the only woman he’s ever called ‘Mama’ because Tommy isn’t here.

If that dickbag ever shows up, Steve is gonna punch his god damn lights out and hug him for an hour, in that order. That’s looking less and less likely every day that rolls by. Steve wipes at his face frantically just as the door to the bathroom slams open. He tries to be quiet, tries to pull his feet up onto the toilet seat, tries to hide. Instead his foot slips and lands in the toilet bowl with a splash.

“God fucking damnit.” He curses and it comes out more like a whimper.

“Woah man.” A disembodied voice asks from the other side of the stall. “You okay in there?”

And much to Steve’s ever growing horror, the stall door (which he very much thought he locked) swings open to reveal Eddie Fucking Munson. Steve ducks his head down, unwilling to show his soft underbelly to the Freak. He busies himself with untying his shoe and pouring the puddle of water out of it back into the toilet.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mister Prom King himself. Steve The Hair Harrington,” Munson makes his voice go all mocking a nasally when he says Steve’s name. “-caught with his proverbial pants down. Wish I had thought to bring my camera today. What a pretty picture this makes.”

Steve can hear the manic grin on Munson’s face and it chafes like nothing else. “Yeah, you’re doing an awful lot of staring asshole. Take a picture, it would last longer.”

It’s a weak retort but worse than that, Steve makes the mistake of looking up to glare at the other boy. His misery must be written all over his face because he watches the feral glee slide right off of Munson’s smug mouth and morph into something a bit too much like pity for Steve’s liking.

“Piss off Munson.” Steve snaps.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to kick ya while you’re down. Believe or not, I’m not really into that.” Eddie shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Steve closes his eyes for a second and prays that the other boy just leaves. Fate is not in his favor however, and instead the dude just keeps talking. “You need a hand with that or something? Maybe the hand dryers would help or like-“

“Munson, I get that you’re trying to be like, nice or whatever the fuck you think it is but could you seriously just fuck off?” Steve grits out.

Munson scoffs. “Yeah. Yeah sure. I should have figured. Fucking jock assholes. Maybe you’ll all run off and join the circus if we’re lucky.”

Munson mutters that last bit but the bathroom is silent. It echoes. And even though the words are quiet they still feel like knives in Steve’s chest. He couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears if he tried. And oh god does he try. He doesn’t want this random dickhead to be witness to this part of himself. So covers his face but he knows; he knows that the gulping, shuddering sob he lets out isn’t muffled in the slightest.

“Oh shit, man.” Munson heaves a long sigh.

“I can’t- I can’t-“ Steve tries to articulate anything but finds he can’t finish the thought. Can’t think of anything but him. Can’t eat without puking it all back up. Can’t sleep under the reflection of the blue light of the pool where my best friend might have died. “I can’t breathe.” He finally chokes out.

“Okay, okay.” The shoe he’s been squeezing in his trembling fists is pulled away. Cool hands tug him from his precarious perch on the tank of the toilet. He stumbles forward a bit only to suddenly find himself sitting on the tile floor. He waits for the pain of a fall to come but it never does. Instead, a cool paper towel is draped over the back of his neck. The world is made quiet by the blood rushing in his ears but slowly things start filtering in. Things like the calm words being muttered right next to his ear. “You’re alright, Steve. You’re gonna be alright. Take a breath for me, come on. One long breath in through your nose. Just like that. Good. Now let it out through your mouth, nice and slow. That’s so good, sweetheart. There you go. Again.”

The unlikely pair sits just like that all the way through the last bell ringing out above them. They sit there until the lights in the hallway beyond the bathroom door switch off.

“We’re gonna get locked in.” Steve mutters. He feels numb. Drained. Fully disembodied.

“Nah, I know a way out. We’ll be fine.” Munson mutters beside him. “Feeling better?”

“No.” Steve takes a deep breath and stands anyway. His ass is numb and his legs are all tingly. He makes his way over to the sink and slashes cold water against his face. He sinks onto his elbows against the counter and just wants to live there, palms pressed to his eyes until spots start dancing behind his eyelids.

“Sorry about- about what I said earlier.” Munson audibly fidgets awkwardly behind him.

Steve looks up and his vision clears just in time to see the wince Munson gives at his own words. “Yeah, well. You’re not the only one thinkin’ it.” He can’t do much more than sigh. “And ya know? I get it I think. We were shitty. Are shitty? Whatever. We’re assholes but -”

He doesn’t think he can say it around the lump lodged in his throat. He’s cried enough for one day. Luckily Munson says it for him. “He’s your friend. You’re allowed to be bummed. But like, he’ll probably come back man.”

That’s the crux of the problem right there. Everyone keeps saying shit like that. Every person in this whole god damn town keeps insisting that he’ll turn up any day now. That he probably just went off to party and he’s spending some time recovering on some couch somewhere. Everyone except Tommy’s mom. All it had taken was Steve looking her in the eye and swearing ‘I don’t know where he is, I can’t find him either’ and she just knew. Just like Steve knew.

Steve shoved himself upright and feels the anger bubbling up in his chest. “He’s not coming back man! He didn’t skip town. He’s not on a bender. He didn’t join the fucking circus. I wish everyone would just- just- he wouldn’t fucking leave! He wouldn’t run away! He wouldn’t go without me! Fuck!”

Munson raises his hands and takes a step backwards towards the door. Steve takes a long breath in through his nose and out through his mouth just like Munson had made him do earlier. It makes the edges of the other boy’s mouth twitch just a little bit. “Alight man. I’m not trying to be a dick about it. It’s just what everybody says.”

“Fuck what everybody says.” Steve scoffs but he’s only just getting started. There’s an anger all mixed with fear and grief and dread that’s been brewing since that night and it’s boiling over whether Steve likes it or not. “Look maybe he was an asshole. Maybe I’m an asshole. But he was my friend, man. The first friend I ever had. We don’t tell people this but his mom was my nanny growing up. And blah, blah, blah. ‘Poor rich Stevie. Parents bailed and left you with the Hagans’ but that’s how long we’ve known each other man. That’s how we met - only four years old. Our whole lives, it was the two of us. TommyandSteve. Thick as thieves. And all these people are walking around like what they knew was all there was to know but they didn’t know Tommy at all. Like- like he’s the only person on the planet that actually likes peeps at Easter like a psycho and he likes peanuts in his cola. You know? I was there the day he figured out how to ride his bike without training wheels. And he used to be afraid of losing his teeth so every time one got loose, I would tie it to the door for him and slam it shut. Every single time. I mean, Jesus Christ man. I’ve held every single one of his baby teeth in my fucking hands. But I’m what? Supposed to just like, be okay?! I’m supposed to just get over the fact that he’s missing?”

“Harrington-” Munson starts but Steve doesn’t let up. It’s just pouring out of him now, every single thing that’s been shoved down and down and down since that night.

“People aren’t even looking for him and they’re calling Tabitha overdramatic and they’re talking about it all like we’re just making it up. But he’s missing man!”

“Harrington.”

“He’s probably dead. Or he’s lying somewhere cold and alone and maybe he deserves it. We’re shitty and it probably makes me even shittier that I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until Tommy wasn’t here but Mama keeps calling hospitals and fucking- fucking morgues and shit and I just- I just-”

“Harrington!” Munson shouts.

Steve heaves a heavy breath and brings his hands up to his face, rubbing viciously until he can steady himself all over again. “I just wanna find my friend.” He mutters weakly.

“Okay.” Munson approaches him like one would a wild animal. “Okay. I believe you. I don’t know how I can help but I’ll help you look for Hagan… if you want.”

Steve had thought in that moment that Munson was just saying whatever it took to calm him down. But even when they left that bathroom, even when they stumbled upon a gaggle of kids filling a tank with salt water, Eddie stuck around.

Even when some random girl with a buzz cut declared Tommy ‘gone, gone, gone’ and they followed Nancy and Jonathan to house filled with Christmas lights and they almost ran but didn’t quite run away and they fought a monster from another dimension…

Eddie stayed. He stuck around. He helped Steve find his lost friend and later he would help Steve bury that friend, empty coffin or not.

#stranger things #stranger things au!#ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #love this idea

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