#Nancy Wheeler kin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months

Text

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

A/N: Oops, this wasn't supposed to be so long. I've been working on it for the last couple of days, trying to get Steve’s family background just right.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Eddie's POV

Eddie sat up in bed with a start and looked at the clock on his bedside table. Oh, fuck he was going to be late. He had spent worrying about how things were going to go that he didn't get very much sleep last night. He had spent that time trying to pick out an outfit, which was stupid because it wasn't like it was a date. The idea of them dating wasn't totally weird though. He knew that three people could date, but the idea that both of them wanted him at the same time. . .it was absurd. Besides, it was clear to see that Steve had eyes for Nancy Wheeler. Not that Eddie could blame him for it, and he certainly couldn't blame Nancy for looking back at him. Eddie tried to get out of bed, but his legs got tangled in the sheets, and he fell out instead.

"I'm fucking cursed," Eddie groaned.

"I keep telling you that you probably pissed off Mother Nature at some point when you were little. Right little terror, you are," Wayne called from the kitchen.

"Ha fucking ha, Uncle Wayne, you're so funny," Eddie growled as he stomped into the kitchen and stole a sip of Wayne's coffee.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, son?" Wayne asked.

"I'm going to hang out with a couple of friends of mine. I woke up late," Eddie said.

"New friends?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, uh, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler," Eddie replied.

"Harrington? He ain't kin to Otis Harrington, is he?" Wayne asked.

"I think Steve mentioned something about his grandfather's name being Otis," he said. "We're supposed to go through his grandfather's salon today. I volunteered to help him."

"He thinking about reopening it?" Wayne asked.

"I think so. His parents don't really want him to. I met his mom. She's a real. . . bitch," Eddie said.

"Knew his grandfather back when he had the salon open. He was a great man. Did real good on my hair. It was such a shame when he had to close it, and then when he passed," Wayne said. "It's nice that Steve wants to do that and it was real nice that you offered to help."

"Well, it's nothing," Eddie shrugged and pressed an obnoxious kiss to his bald spot. "I'm going to get ready, old man. See you later."

"Boy! I hate it when you do that!"

"No, you don't!"

A moment later, Eddie came out freshly showered wearing his nicest pair of black jean shorts and a new Dio tank top.

"That's a nice shirt. Is it new?" Wayne asked, looking at him knowingly.

"Shut it," Eddie said.

"I was just pointing it out. Your hair is all up in a bun. . .that's nice. Oh, I see you have a fresh coat of black paint on your nails," Wayne said.

"Stop pointing things out! I'm leaving now!" Eddie exclaimed as he slipped on his vest.

"Which one of them are you interested in, son?" Wayne asked with a chortle.

"Leaving!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Don't come back pregnant. It's bad enough I spoil you, I don't need a grand baby to back up those goddamn cow eyes of yours," Wayne laughed affectionately.

Eddie rolled his eyes, huffed, and walked out the door. He popped his head back in a moment later.

"You're lucky I love you, old man," Eddie said and flipped him off.

Eddie cackled as he walked to his van. He loved him even if he could be such an embarrassing dad sometimes, which Eddie wouldn't admit that he loved. Wayne was always there for him, but he picked up a lot of parental moves once his dad officially walked out of his life. He's always been pretty supportive of everything he's done, even if he didn't like it himself, like showing up to his talent show and listening to him play and on his days off he'd sneak into the Hideout to watch him. It wasn't his kind of music, but he loved being there for Eddie. When he came out to his uncle as bisexual, he had been the most supportive he had ever been. He had been relieved that nothing changed between them.

"You're still my boy, Eds," Wayne had put it so simply but somehow managed to say everything that needed to be said.

"Don't come back pregnant. . .asshole," Eddie scowled as he climbed into his van. "He knows that if people say shit, I'm going to picture it in my head."

He waved the image of his swollen body cuddled between Nancy and Steve away with a loud huff, erasing it away like it was a chalkboard. He followed the directions that Steve told him to follow. He pulled up to the salon, which was a few doors down away from Melvald's. To his surprise, Steve and Nancy weren't there yet. He was the first to arrive? Or maybe they waited so long that they went ahead and investigated without him. He got out of the van and went to the door and tried peering inside, but the windows were too dirty to see anything. He vaguely heard the sound of a car pulling up, but he ignored it. He leaned back, his hands on his hips, and frowned. HONK! Eddie screamed and jumped. Someone had laid on their horn, someone really close. He turned around to find Steve sitting in his car, laughing his ass off while Nancy hit him as she struggled not to laugh either. Steve got out, still laughing, and Eddie glared at him.

"That wasn't funny, dick," Eddie said.

"I beg to differ," Steve snickered and pulled a carton out of a paper bag from Scoops Ahoy. "Will your favorite ice cream help you ease the pain?"

"Hmm, strawberry with extra sprinkles? Hmm. . . It will suffice. . .for now," Eddie said as he opened it and started digging into it with the plastic spoon. "Hmm, yummy. What was I annoyed about before?"

He was well into eating and licking his ice cream when he realized that he was being watched with interest. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that Steve and Nancy's eyes were following his every little movement with his ice cream. Did they both find him attractive? Eddie couldn't help but blush as his mind went back to that moment in the freezer when Steve kissed him. No, it was a pity kiss, that's all. He was seeing things that he wanted to see.

"Uh, don't you guys have ice creams of your own?" Eddie asked.

"Yes!" Steve and Nancy exclaimed.

Eddie leaned against his van as they enjoyed their ice cream. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him again.

"Those are some nice legs - shorts! Those are some nice shorts!" Steve exclaimed.

"What the fuck are legs shorts?" Eddie asked.

"Nothing!" Steve said quickly.

"Right. . ."

Eddie was hearing things he wanted to hear now, too, because he was pretty sure Steve Harrington just commented on his legs. He watched Nancy lean against Steve and giggle. He had noticed that they seemed a little more carefree than before, a lot less weighed down, but they still held a story behind their eyes. Eddie wasn't too keen on getting in between whatever new was growing between them. He could at least admire their beauty and imagine what could be between the three of them. For now, he was excited for their growing friendship. They finished off their ice cream, and Steve tossed the remains in the nearest trashcan. He fished out his keys and unlocked the door to the salon. They immediately inhaled some dust. It seemed like someone hadn't been here in a few years. Steve propped open the door with a brick to air it out.

"It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be," Eddie admitted as he looked around the place. "If you ever think about reopening, Wayne said he would love to help. Had good things to say about your gramps."

"Yeah, I'm starting to hear about that from other people, too. I mean, I loved my grandpa, but I didn't know that other people loved him too. It's weird because other people really hate my parents, and they've really tarnished the family name," Steve grumbled. "It's all I ever here is how much my father is an asshole."

"I'm not surprised. But I figure that if anyone can untarnish the family name, it'd be you," Eddie said.

"You think so?" He asked.

"Well, if you are able to put up with your unbearable mother, I figured you can do anything, big boy," Eddie said, clapping him on the back.

He watched his cheeks turn pink, and he laughed in amusement. Eddie looked around the room. It was exactly what you would expect a barber shop to look like and then some. With its red checkered floors and comfortable chairs that stood in front of dust covered mirrors. Although it was a lot more home-y than Eddie expected it to be. It felt more like a cross between someone's living room and a barber shop. Rat eaten, moldy couches were tucked up on either side of the room. Magazines with their covers bitten into lay on intricate looking coffee tables. They looked hand-made. What surprised him the most were the wooden varnished animals worked into the walls itself. Tiny wolves, deers, rabbits, and birds were sticking out of carved trees that were also worked into the wall. Plastic leaves had once hung on the trees, but it looked like they had fallen off. It was the coolest thing that Eddie had ever seen.

"Wow," Eddie gazed at in wonder. "This is so fucking metal."

"Yeah, my Grandma, who died before I was born, had a mutal friend with Grandpa, and they both surprised Grandpa Otis with this," Steve said. "My Grandpa didn't talk about him a lot. Whenever I asked about him, he always got really secretive. He talked about him a lot near the end, though. Him and an old war buddy of his, Steven. As well as my Gran, I thought it was sweet whenever he called her his best friend, and he always did even in the end."

"Wait, he had a war buddy named Steven?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, Grandpa named me after him," Steve replied.

"Your grandpa named you? Not your parents?" Nancy asked.

"Well, my grandpa practically raised me the first few years of my life," Steve said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"Uh, where were your parents?" Eddie asked.

"In and out like always. It was a busy time for my father's company," Steve said. "He built it from the ground up, you know. I also think there was a scandal at the time. I don't know what it was. My dad wasn't always loaded. Anyway, my grandpa's things are in the apartment above us."

Steve entered through a torn curtain, flipping on lights. There was a thick wooden staircase that led to a small hallway, and turning left, there was a door. Steve unlocked it and turned on the lights. Inside was a modest two bedroom apartment. Eddie could tell that the second bedroom had been added on. A wall had been put up as a way to devide the once one room apartment. Both bedrooms were filled with boxes, and the furniture was covered with sheets.

"It's nice," Nancy said. "Very home-y."

"Unlike my house, you mean?" Steve snorted. "Anyway, this was my bedroom."

"Your bedroom?" Nancy asked.

"When I lived with my grandpa, the first few years of my life. A couple of years later, he started getting sick, and he had to close the store. Then, we had to move into the house. Honestly, I wasn't even sure they were my parents. My Grandpa mainly told stories about when my dad was a kid and my mom wasn't around a lot for him to get to know," Steve shrugged again.

It was taking everything in Eddie not to burst into tears and not hug the stuffing out of this guy. The way he talked about it so casually. . . Like it was the weather and not the fact that his parents abandoned him, then used his life like a revolving door. Eddie breathed in deep and then exhaled, stuffing his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists. He shared a look with Nancy, and she looked just as shocked as he was.

"How come you never told me about any of this stuff before?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know. You never asked," Steve shrugged, his back to her.

Eddie knew it wasn't supposed to be a slap in the face, but judging by the look on Nancy's face, it had been. She looked so guilty. Maybe if Steve hadn't been so casual about it like he was used to people not actually being interested in the real Steve Harrington. He knew his fucking parents were the cause of that. Eddie nudged Nancy gently, letting her know that she wasn't alone in making assumptions about Steve in the past. There were more layers to this guy than they both ever knew, and they were all about to find out more. He didn't know what went on with them, but he hoped it all worked out.

"Hey! My stuff!" Steve exclaimed as he walked into his bedroom, and he looked at the boxes.

"Your stuff?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, the toys, clothes, and blankets my parents gave away to the church," Steve said.

"Did they at least ask you first?" Eddie asked.

"No!" Steve said as he dug through the box happily. "The teddy bear my Grandma made when she found my mom was pregnant with me. She stitched this together herself. Made it from Dad's old baby clothes. I used to sleep with this thing every night, and then my mom said I was too old to sleep with a stuffed animal. Said I looked stupid. Sir Snuggsalot because he's so snuggly."

Eddie's heart swelled in his chest at the sight of Steve cuddling the bear. It suddenly turned to anger. He pulled Nancy off to the side.

"Okay, we lie in wait for his parents to come home then me and you. . . We kill them," Eddie said. "It needs to look like an accident."

"I have been reading up on poisons," Nancy said.

"Hmm. . .it can't be quick. They don't deserve a quick death," Eddie said.

"Hmm. Agreed. Rusty pair of gardening sheers?" Nancy asked.

"Nobody will believe they garden," he scoffed.

"That's why they're rusty. He does sleep around a lot," Nancy said. "Maybe she finally snapped."

"Yes! Murder suicide. I like the way you think, Wheeler," Eddie said.

"What are you two talking about over there?" Steve asked.

"Nothing!" Eddie and Nancy exclaimed.

"Anyway, there's a note. Pastor Young, who used to babysit me here, recognized these things and dug them out of the donation box. He must have brought them here right before he died," Steve said, shaking his head fondly. "Miss that old man."

"Fuck it," Eddie muttered.

He walked over to Steve and slipped his arms around his waist, pulling into a tight side hug. Eddie squeezed him.

"Uh, what's going on?" Steve asked.

Nancy copied Eddie and joined Steve on his other side, hugging him tightly as well.

"Okay, I don't know what this is, but it's nice," Steve said.

Once they dug through his childhood things, they moved over to his grandfather's boxes. They pulled out photographs and metals as well as several pieces of artwork that Steve did for Otis as a child. There were several photos of him and Steve when Steve was little. Eddie cooed at every single one of them. There were several more photos of Otis when he was younger with Steve’s Grandma, Irene.

"You have his eyes, Steve," Nancy noted as she gazed at a picture of young Otis in his uniform.

"I do?" Steve asked and looked over Nancy's shoulder. "Oh yeah."

Eddie joined Nancy at her other side to look at the photo.

"Yeah, definitely. You have his shoulders too," Eddie said.

"And his hair," Nancy added.

Eddie grinned as he watched Steve preen as he realized he had more in common with his grandfather than he thought he did. Eddie dug through the box and pulled out a picture frame. It was Otis in his uniform with his arm wrapped around a handsome man with rather curly thick hair and dark eyes. His face was littered with freckles. They were gazing at each other, and Eddie didn't think it looked all that platonic.

"Oh, hey, that's Steven," Steve said, looking over at Eddie's shoulder. "According to the date, it was about the time he and Gran got engaged."

"There's something wedged in the back," Eddie said. "I'll fix it."

He opened up the back, and another photo slipped out. Steve caught and read the back.

"Thanks for letting me take this picture. You gentlemen are lovely together. One day, you'll be able to show everyone your love, and they'll accept you as I do. Love always, your best friend, Irene," Steve read off the back and flipped the picture over. "Oh, wow."

Eddie scurried to look over his shoulder, as did Nancy. Otis and Steven's arms were wrapped around each other as they locked lips.

"Okay, there has to be journals around here that have more information," Eddie said with wide eyes. "I need to know more about them. I mean, if you don't mind."

"I think he wouldn't mind at all. He would probably be happy to know that there were more people like him learning about his story and his struggles," Steve said.

"Especially his grandson," Eddie said with a grin as he nudged him.

The three of them started to dig around the room, trying to find anything with journals in it. It was Nancy who found a box under the bed. When she opened it, they discovered tons of journals. They eagerly started to dig through them, each taking turns to read them as they learned more about Otis Harrington. It helped that it was written more like a novel.

Before Otis had gotten drafted, he had worked in his father's barber shop in Hawkins. Irene Callahan was his best friend in the world, and their parents were sure they were going to get married. Of course, they weren't at all aware of Otis's secret: He was gay. Women held no interest for him, not even Irene. Turns out, though, Irene was more than okay with that because there wasn't a single man or woman alive who held any interest for her, and she had doubted that it would ever happen. They eventually agreed that they would get married. . . It was safer that way, and Irene didn't want to get stuck with someone she couldn't stand. And even though it was a marriage without romantic love and sexual attraction, it was a marriage built on love. And they were happy.

"That's cool, though, that they had a marriage like that. Just like a friendship marriage. And that Irene could be like that," Steve said. "My grandparents were awesome."

"That they were. You know, my best friend, Ronnie, is a lot like your grandma. She's at NYU studying to become a lawyer," Eddie said.

"For the longest time, I thought I was like that. I wasn't really interested in anyone or in dating. I mean, besides that tiny crush on Tom Cruise. Until Steve came along, I wasn't sure I could like anyone," Nancy said.

"Hmm, maybe you're pansexual," Eddie said.

"Pansexual?" Nancy asked.

"It's like where it doesn't matter what gender someone is. You're like attracted to what's inside a person," Eddie said.

"Like their fluids and stuff?" Steve asked.

"No!" Eddie snorted with laughter. "You're like attracted to people and not what's on the outside. While bisexuality focuses more on gender and neither sexuality is wrong. Look, I was confused about my own sexuality for years, I'm not sure if I can explain someone else's. It's whatever feels comfortable with you. Hell, you don't even need to have a label if you don't want to. I'll take you guys up to Indie, and I will take you to this place my friend took me. I think exploring your sexuality is something that you need to do for yourself."

"So, you're not going to guide me like a queer Yoda?" Nancy asked, her eyes twinkling with delight.

"A Quoda!" Steve exclaimed, and Nancy giggled.

"I hate you guys," Eddie said, grinning as he swiped the journal from Steve’s hands.

Before Otis and Irene had even gotten engaged, however, a man had moved into town to open up his own diner. He had stumbled upon the town of Hawkins and decided to move to this quaint, quiet town. He had come from the large noisy city of New York, and he was looking for some small town charm.

"Small town charm? What they don't tell you about small towns could fill a book," Eddie said, causing Steve and Nancy to snort while sharing a look. "Or a TV show."

When Steven Jones stepped foot into the barber shop, Otis had been smitten with him almost immediately. They became fast friends, all three of them, and from that moment on, it felt like they had always been friends. They were inseparable. That summer was the best time for all of them. Otis and Steve fell in love while Irene had the pleasure of watching unfold. She even helped keep it a secret. Wartime soon fell upon them like dark clouds on the cusp of a great big storm. And when rumors started popping up, it was Irene's idea to get married, treating it as a celebration of their friendship. While she was married to Otis in the spirit of friendship, she knew the romantic marriage was between Otis and Steven. She had a secret ring made for Steven to wear around his neck. So while Irene and Otis had a huge church wedding with Steven standing beside Otis, they had a secret wedding for Steven and Otis in this very apartment with Irene officiating. Steven had deemed it a coin marriage, both with different sides and both of equal value. One side was romantic, one side platonic.

"A fucking coin marriage," Eddie said. "Your grandparents were brilliant."

It all came crashing down when both Otis and Steven had gotten drafted, leaving Irene to look after the salon with Otis's father. Letters between the three of them were stuck between the pages of the book. They were filled with longing and fear, all three of them separated by war. The last letter spoke of Steven and Otis meeting on the same battlefield, finally together again. Eddie's shakily turned the page.

"Otis had returned home, to the joy of his father and his wife, but Steven. . . Steven would never come home again. And when Otis stood in front of his wife, he placed Steven's necklace in her palm as he drew her into a kiss. To anyone else, he was greeting his wife with a loving kiss, but they knew differently. Salty tears from both sides, it was a kiss filled with sadness. . .two lips clinging to each other in a comforting hug as they mourned for the loss for the man they loved so differently and completely. . . The man who loved with every fiber of his being and who couldn't carry hate in his heart for anyone even when he was fighting on the battlefield. He showed his love through food, and taking care of people was like his special language. Hawkins would be a lot less brighter with one less star, and Otis would always be missing a piece of his heart. . . "

Eddie put the journal down, sniffling as he wiped his eyes. He let out a choked sob, trying to ignore Steve and Nancy's own sniffles. They took a moment to collect themselves, and Nancy took the journal from him. The journal had skipped ahead several months later, with Otis addressing it to his beloved. . .to Steven. Otis and Irene were discussing ways they could possibly have a child. There was really only one way they could. . . With a turkey baster. They had talked about it in depth, trying to figure out if they were trying to fill the hole in their lives. After a lot of talking, they figured out that it was something that they really wanted. Several months later, they welcomed a baby boy and named him Jonathan after Irene's father, who had passed during the beginning stages of her pregnancy. As he grew, John was a happy boy who loved both of his parents. He was witty and sharp, but as the years went by, he started befriending the more popular kids who were very arrogant. They didn't believe in people who strayed far from the path, who stood out. John had firmly believed that his parents' marriage were like everyone else's, a little silly perhaps but did not stray too far from the path. Otis had decided that John had been old enough to learn the truth, and he had trusted him to be able to handle it. That had been a mistake.

" . . . Watching the love fade from my son's eyes had been hard to watch, and seeing it be replaced with disgust had been even harder. I'm looking at him now, even though he's right next to me, and I miss him. I wish I never told him at all. . . "

Nancy paused, her bottom lip trembling as she gazed at Steve.

"Fuck," Eddie and Steve cursed.

"Continue," Steve said, swallowing thickly.

" . . . It would be my fault for whatever comes next with him. I've always ignored it when other people spewed hateful things, and I never felt ashamed for being who I am until the hate started coming from my own son. My father had died and left the salon to me, but he died knowing who I was. He accepted and loved me all the same even if he didn't understand it himself. The worst part was when we would go out in public, and John wanted to keep the image up of us being a happy family. I always tried to make sure that he knew he came from love, created with love even though it wasn't the conventional way. All he felt was betrayal, and I couldn't help but feel like it was all my fault. . . "

"That's bullshit! It's not his fault. He was just being honest about who he is and my father . . . Well, if he hasn't learned by now that he's the asshole in this situation, then he's probably never going to," Steve scowled.

"Steve. . . ," Nancy said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe after. Let's just finish," Steve said and took the journal from her.

As the years went by, John argued with his parents about getting help. . .about needing to be fixed. It always ended the same way, with John being kicked out, leaving his parents to cry over their son and wishing Steven was still with them. He still tried to keep up with visiting his parents, and eventually, he dropped the subject, but he always looked at them funny. Instead, he talked about the insurance company he was building with his friends and bragged about how well it was going, making jabs about how Otis was still a barber. When he turned his insults to Irene, it had been the last straw and kicked John out. He had been planning on giving the house to John, but after disowning him for a time, he sold it to someone else. Irene and Otis moved into the apartment above the salon. The next time that they had talked to their son, he announced he was married to a wonderful woman. They could tell that he didn't even love her, not even platonically. She was desperate for his love, though, and was willing to give him anything even children to keep up the image of the importance of family. She hated kids, though. Steve paused and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You okay?" Eddie asked softly.

"I just - I always suspected that this is why my mother had me, but I had hoped that there was some part of her. . . Some part of her that loved me," Steve said as he struggled not to cry.

"Steve. . .," Nancy said and reached out to touch his knee.

"Let's just . . . Get on with this," Steve said.

When Margaret had announced her pregnancy, Otis and Irene tried to focus on the fact that there would be a grand baby on the way. They didn't want to think about how Margaret looked sour during the announcement and that John had looked happy about it for all the wrong reasons. It was just a means to end for him, another piece to maintain the image that he was on the right path. Irene spent all of her time working on making a teddy bear for the baby, making it out of John's clothes and putting all of her love into it. Just after finishing it, Irene's heart gave out. There was too much damage, and he sat with her on her deathbed with John nowhere to be found. He had been too busy at work, too busy to say goodbye to his own mother, and Otis knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.

"I'll give Steven my love. I'll leave some for you and John to give to the baby," she had smiled weakly. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if they named the baby Steven? It's such a lovely name."

They had been her last words, and Otis had been distraught as she slipped away even more so after she was gone. He had never felt more alone in his life. John and Margaret had stood at the back of the funeral. When John did approach him later, he didn't say anything, but he did look regretful. For the first time in a while, Otis was looking through the eyes of his son. He should have known that it was too good to last. They hadn't called him when Margaret had gone into labor. John had shown up with the baby in his arms and gave the bundle to him. He declared that he didn't have time to take care of him, and Margaret didn't want anything to do with the baby. Though Otis had felt sad for the baby in his arms, he also felt love and joy. He had come up with the perfect name. Steven Ira Harrington.

"Your middle name is Ira?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Problem?"

"No, Ira-really like it," Eddie said with a cheesy grin.

"That was so stupid," Nancy giggled, and Steve laughed in agreement.

The next few years of his life had been busy. The divider had been built by James Hopper Sr and his son, Jimmy. It was a name only Otis was allowed to call him. Occasionally, Jimmy would come into help with the wall but would also help look after baby Steve. Tucked in between the pages was a picture of young Hopper bouncing baby Steve in his lap while Steve laughed and reached for his face. It wasn't long after that Jimmy had gotten married and left for New York. Raising Steve had kept Otis busy for the next few years, and when he got sick, he started to write less. When he lost the use of his hands, he stopped writing all together. He did manage to write one more thing.

"Steve, if you find these journals, please don't think less of me. . . And Steven. . .oh, Steven. . . He may not be yours by blood, but somehow, he managed to inherit your heart. . . . "

"If anything, I think more of you," Steve whispered and then paused. "He never talked about that friend of his who did that piece of artwork downstairs."

"Well, I think there might be a couple of journals missing, judging by the dates," Nancy said.

"Pastor Young probably took them when he dropped off my things," Steve said.

"Or maybe Pastor Young did the artwork," Eddie said, and then he gasped. "Maybe Pastor Young was Otis's lover."

"Maybe that's why he took the notebooks. He didn't want anyone to know," Nancy said.

"That would explain why he was so involved in my life," Steve said. "And why he had a key. Now that I think about it, he did sleep over a lot, and he never slept on the couch. Jesus, it was right there in front of me. I mean, he was there even until the end. Although, after Grandpa died, he didn't come around a lot, and then he died. My father probably told him to stay away if he figured out what he was to my grandfather. My fucking parents. . . "

Eddie watched his face flash through several mixed emotions. His own father was an asshole who breezed in and out of his life. He was finally out of it for good.

"I know what it's like," Eddie blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked.

"To have a parent come in and out of your life, not caring about you. I spent so many years trying to catch my father's attention only to realize he wasn't going to care about me. I did have someone who always did, who I took for granted. My uncle was always the dad that I needed in my life. He was the one who taught me how to care. You had not one, not two but three grandparents. Even though two of them never got to meet you, it seems they left their love behind in Otis which he passed onto you," Eddie said.

"And you've passed it onto me and to the kids. They communicate it through their actions, especially Dustin, who takes care of you as much as you do him," Nancy said. "And you taught Max that she could stand up for herself. You gave them an example of what a good older brother should be, just like your grandfather showed you what a good parent is supposed to be. You showed them that love can look differently to many people, and it doesn't have to be romantic. And even if they don't say, they show it. . .they love you, and I think they do that by making sure that you never feel alone ever again. They do that even by filling up your house with noise and dirt. They chose to be a part of your life. And I know you love them that just as much as they love you."

Steve burst into tears, his body shaking with sobs. Eddie immediately wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He turned to Nancy and pulled her into the middle of them. Eddie and Nancy hugged him tightly, unknowingly solidifying their bond even further into a deeper and more permanent one.

Chapter Eight

72 notes · View notes