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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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Eddie’s Memory Log: Day 2-5

part 1 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

There’s chewed up bits of food splattered violently all over the hospital lunch tray.

“Are you trying to feed me or torture me, Harrington?” Eddie wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.

Eddie still remembers Steve’s name.

“Kung Pao Chicken.” Steve over enunciates each syllable.

“My memory is fucked - not my speech, asshole.”

“Your attitude is fucked worse than your memory is.” Steve grumbles. “You asked for this yesterday, remember?”

Eddie chooses not to answer verbally and instead, shoves the tray away from his bedside.

Eddie doesn’t remember asking for Kung Pao Chicken yesterday. If that weren’t already obvious.

He dramatically chugs down a styrofoam cup of water. “Seriously, my tongue feels like it’s been assaulted.”

Nah, his fucking behavior today is all very reminiscent of that Shakespeare play - Steve only read the cliff notes for it during his junior year English class. Taming of the Shrew? Take a wild fucking guess who is the shrew right now…

Steve spoons a bite of his food into his mouth without throwing a tantrum. “Maybe your taste buds changed.”

“Maybe you’re wasting your time.” Eddie snaps back. “Maybe you should leave.”

Steve is not in the mood for this. Not today. Robin is still borrowing his car and he didn’t get a window seat on the bus, so his Patience has clocked out early. Not even in the goddamn building anymore.

“Fine.” He gets up, packing up his meal that he can’t even enjoy. Look, Steve’s not asking for a candlelit dinner by any means. But changing the weather forecast - dramatically pouring food out of his mouth in that way? Munson is a goddamn piece of work (Pollocks probably, considering the mess).

That reminds him:

Eddie remembers how to be dramatic. Theatrics must be in his bloodstream or some shit.

“Are you leaving or what?” Eddie is flipping through the tv channels, not even looking at Steve.

“I swear on your stupid little board game, you better be an angel tomorrow.” Steve scolds, gathering all of his things underneath his arm.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.” Steve points a finger at him. “Your memory is fucked, not your ears.”

“Your tongue is fucked for having such shitty taste in food.”

“Nice comeback.”

“And you shouldn’t come back at all.” Eddie hits an imaginary cymbal at the end of his lame joke. At least there’s humor in his damaged mind. Too bad it’s at Steve’s expense.

Eddie remembers how to tell jokes again. Mean jokes. (tbd on the rest of his humor though)

Steve isn’t planning on saying goodbye, but he remembers the kids. They’ll whine him into an early grave if he doesn’t return to Hawkins with a little more insight on Eddie’s memory levels. So he decides to ask one more question before leaving:

“Hey. Munson.”

Eddie flips the volume down on the tv, and looks at Steve. “What now?”

Still remembers his own last name.

“When’s your birthday?” Steve asks again. He already asked this yesterday, but it’s worth a shot.

Eddie looks out the window, closes his eyes for a few seconds. For the first time today, his expression goes serene. All the frustration lines on his face relax. Ease up.

He opens his eyes and answers calmly.

“January 10th.”

Interesting.

Eddie knows his birthday.

Memory log: Day 3

Steve should consider a career as a psychic or some shit. Maybe he absorbed all of Eddie’s memory skills unintentionally or maybe his little DnD threat was worth the added bitchiness. Whatever it is, Eddie is actually tolerable today.

“That’s the least vomit-inducing shade of yellow you’ve ever worn, Harrington.” Which isn’t exactly a ‘hello, it’s nice to see you,’ but Steve will take it because -

Eddie still remembers Steve’s name.

“So you remember me wearing yellow?” Steve clicks his pen excessively. “Seems pretty advanced.”

Eddie turns the tv off today. Woah. “Last week, yeah. Wanted to join PETA just so I’d have a good excuse to throw fake blood all over it.”

Okay yeah, still mean - but also, his memory isn’t so shabby either:

Eddie remembers Steve’s yellow sweater he wore last Tuesday!? That seems impressive.

Eddie knows who the fuck PETA is (Steve makes a mental note to tell Robin about that one cause holy shit)

Eddie is making snort-worthy jokes today. (Are they still at Steve’s expense? Hell yeah, but who the fuck cares? There’s goddamn chunks of memory in his cynical comedy.)

Steve stays for the entirety of visiting hours. Eddie doesn’t ask him to leave - not once. They mock shitty soap operas on tv and theorize that all of the actors are actually rejected pornstars.

Steve likes This Eddie.

Steve hopes this version of Eddie is still here tomorrow.

“Did you think I’d forget?” Eddie asks slyly while Steve heads for the door.

“Forget what?” Steve isn’t following at all.

“The Chinese takeout.” Eddie says sort of irritated. “Kung Pao Chicken, remember?”

Oh. Steve does remember. Eddie does not.

Eddie doesn’t remember redecorating the hospital bed with his chewed up food.

His face suddenly drops at Steve’s change in posture. “What?”

“I did bring it.” Steve hates this. “Yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“Do you remember yesterday at all?”

Eddie whispers into his palm. “I remember you.”

“Right.” Steve’s chest gets tighter at his answer though.

While it’s encouraging that Eddie knows who Steve is everyday, and is comfortable dragging his style through the mud (or fake blood) - this puts such a damper on their good day. Steve can already see Eddie reaching for the tissue box, ready to soak his disappointment into off-brand snot rags. He can’t let the day end like this. No fucking way.

“Hey.” Steve knocks his knuckles over the wall, grabbing Eddie’s attention. “We’ll try again tomorrow, yeah?”

Eddie bunches up the unused tissue in his hand. “Whatever.”

“Take a good look at this non-vomit-inducing sweater.” Steve teases gently. “Don’t forget it.” He does a goofy twirl, and wiggles his ass while he turns around just to see if Eddie will laugh.

He doesn’t, but it seems like he’s trying incredibly hard not to. Always a good sign that ass-shaking is still humorous even after inter-dimensional brain trauma.

“Never said it was non-vomit-inducing.” Eddie retorts after fighting back his amusement. “I said it was the least vomit-inducing.”

“Ugh.” Steve rolls his eyes, gives Eddie a small wave as he heads out the door.

He can still hear Eddie trying to get the last word as he leaves:

“Maybe you’re the one that needs a brain scan, Harrington!”

At least it was a better day.

Memory Log: Day 4

Well so much for the Better Day. Somehow, Eddie’s attitude is now reaching Mister fucking Hyde levels today. He’s the bad dude, right? The Jekyll guy is a doctor, which must make him the chill one… ya know, medicine and shit. And seriously, doesn’t Eddie need to be on some more medications anyways? If Steve were smarter, he’d write the fucking prescription himself.

Whatever, Eddie is Hyde and that Shakespearean shrew lady all chopped up and tossed together today. He’s slinging insults like softballs and snarling his bruised upper lip every time Steve utters a single sentence. Steve is reconsidering his comment about not taking money from sophomores, cause this is bullshit.

“What sexually transmitted disease brings you to the hospital today, Harrington?” Eddie asks rhetorically. And annoyingly.

He remembers he strongly dislikes Steve Harrington, that’s for damn sure.

But… he still remembers Steve’s name so that’s a plus.

And wait -

“Hold on. Did you just make a Steve is a Hometown Slut joke?” Steve is way too excited about the prospects of Eddie remembering his promiscuous past.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. “Hometown Slut would be a good band name, actually.”

“Focus, Munson.”

“Uh, I guess?” Eddie reaches for his pudding cup. Huh. Maybe he’s sick of jello. “Why are you about to piss your pants over that?”

Steve flips to the first day of notes when Eddie didn’t remember jackshit about Steve in high school. He looks back up at Eddie. “Because that means you remember at least something about high school.”

Eddie shrugs. “I failed a lot of shit. It’s probably because there’s just way too much high school to remember. Something was bound to stick.”

Eddie remembers flunking Senior year.

And even though Eddie is living up to his satanic stereotype with his behavior today, Steve is beyond excited that memories are coming back. He just has to ask one more thing before leaving:

“Do you remember what color sweater I wore yesterday?”

Eddie examines Steve for a very long time. Hoping to spark the correct answer, Steve twirls again. Wiggles his ass. Gives a big, goofy smile.

“You’re weird.” Eddie looks away. Looks down.

Steve exhales loudly.

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve's least vomit-inducing yellow sweater.

Memory Log: Day 5

After Dustin analyzes Steve’s daily entries, they hypothesize that Eddie is struggling the most with short term memories (since he never quite remembers one day prior to the current day). It appears that some of his long term memories are gradually returning, so perhaps a little coaxing will speed those along.

“Well well well, if it isn’t -”

“Catch, Hyde!” Steve tosses a crushed velvety bag into Eddie’s lap.

Eddie pokes at the bag. “Hyde?”

“It’s either Hyde or Katherina.” Steve finally asked Robin the name of that bitchy character from the Taming of the Shrew. “But if you’re gonna play nice today, I’ll just call you Eddie.”

That solicits an audible gasp from him.

He must remember that Steve never calls him by his first name.

“Your references and gifts confuse me.”

“Maybe if you just open the bag, it‘ll un-confuse your sloshy brain.”

He dumps the jangly items onto his side table.

It’s slow - the smile that forms over Eddie’s face. It’s the first time Steve has seen Eddie smile with teeth since that night in the Upside Down. One of his teeth on the bottom row is chipped, but it doesn’t even matter. He’s smiling wide enough to show all of his teeth and that’s the fucking win for today. Everything else is just a bonus. Sprinkles and candles and confetti and party hats.

After so much loss, they needed this win.

“So?” Steve wants words now. Needs smiles and words combined. “See something you like?”

“My dice collection.” Eddie says it like the lyrics to a hymn. As if these geometric blobs are his religion and he’s praising their existence at the altar of his hospital tray.

“Do you remember what kind of dice?” Steve had Dustin give him some key definitions on this fantasy shit. Not for his knowledge, of course - for Eddie. Duh.

“D20s.” He answers fast.

Steve nods, walks over and tries to pick one up. Eddie slaps his hand away quickly. “Get your Grease Lightning fingers away from my children.”

Okay. Well.

Eddie remembers his dice/children (and what they’re called)

Eddie remembers Grease? (Of all the movies Steve thought this guy would reference… Grease? Is it the leather? Hm.)

“Do you…” Steve is nervous for this question because he desperately wants Eddie to get this right. “Do you remember the name of the game you play with these?”

For a second, Eddie’s face drops the same way it did yesterday when he couldn’t remember the color of Steve’s sweater. But the dropped corners of his lips begin to twist into a devilish smirk.

“My dearest Stevie boy,” Eddie’s voice is dripping in that poisonous tree sap kind of way. “Dungeons and Dragons isn’t just a game. It’s a fucking worldwide phenomenon.”

Holy shit. Within those three sentences, Eddie almost sounded like Name Brand Eddie Munson again. The tone he always used with the meatheads at Hawkins High - that tone is back. The eyebrows that inch along his forehead like witchy caterpillars - those eyebrows are back. It’s just three sentences, sure. But it was Eddie rising from his gurney of a grave in many other ways.

Eddie remembers how to use his snarky tone of voice.

Eddie remembers how to make his eyebrows dance around on his face.

Eddie remembers *Dungeons and Dragons*

Steve is so excited, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands? What do hands normally do when they’re excited? Clap? Stay at his side? Flap around? Fuck, he has no goddamn clue, so he just decides to give Eddie a thumbs-up with one hand and ruffle his knotted hair with the other hand.

Multitask the shit out of his excitement.

Eddie laughs along with him now, still admiring his collection. Not even bothering to stop Steve from his hair ruffling thingy. Huh… why is Steve still ruffling Eddie’s hair in the first place?

Okay. He finally stops himself. Has to pull his own wrist away but he stops.

“Guessing it was good day, Munson?” Steve wonders curiously, still watching Eddie roll the dice around in his palm.

Eddie nods. Multiple times. “Good day, Harrington. Good day.”

A prickly sensation hits Steve as Eddie says good day. A sensation that suggests to Steve that he wants Eddie to have more than just Good Days. Steve wants Eddie to have Great Days. Steve wants to give Eddie great days and present them to him in tiny velvet bags.

That’s definitely a turnpike of a thought.

He did this on purpose too. Dustin is coming on Sunday, which means Eddie will remember this moment. He’ll remember the dice and the Good Day. That’s part of Steve’s plan apparently. He’s making plans like that now. Strange.

“It’s funny.” Steve is pondering over his own discoveries, but also Eddie’s faulty memory patterns.

“What is?”

“You have the hardest time remembering the events from the day before…” Steve pauses to reflect. “But you always remember me.”

Eddie drops the dice out of his hands. He doesn’t look at Steve though, he just freezes up. His bangs have grown out quite a bit, but Steve thinks that Eddie’s face is redder than it was just a second ago.

Eddie remembers how to blush.

And Steve is going to milk that reaction completely. “You always remember that I’ll be here the next day. Isn’t that funny?”

Eddie kind of choke-answers him. “Funny sure yeah ha ha.”

Eddie remembers how to feel flustered as all fuck.

“Well,” Steve lifts up - still as smug and devious as ever. “I’ll let you have some alone time to catch up with your children. I’m sure you have lots of adventures to plan together.”

“Right.” Eddie finally sweeps his bangs back, watching Steve head for the door. “Does that mean I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“God willing.” Steve is sort of itching to ruffle Eddie’s hair again, but he doesn’t. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Eddie waves and starts cleaning up his collection, swiping them back into their bag.

“Yellow.” Eddie mumbles very quietly. Almost inaudible.

Steve stops. “What?”

“Your sweater.” Eddie explains anxiously. “The tacky burnable one. It was yellow.”

Eddie remembers Steve's sweater again.

And Steve couldn’t be happier about that. Now he’s the one smiling with all of his teeth. The bonus type of smile on a day full of wins.

“It sure was, Eds.”

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #I'll keep tagging in future parts unless you would like me to un-tag you ☺️#thank you for the love on this ficlet #this one is a little longer but I hope you like it #steddie ficlet #post season 4 au #I thought it might be fun to make my posting date Eddie’s birthday :)#just a smol thing

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