I’m a ghost and you are a shadow
Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven
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Ever since the Upside-down and Vecna and the world going to shit, Steve’s spent a lot of time roaming the bars inside and out of Hawkins. Once he’d finished with his dad’s liquor cabinet and the only liquor store in town stopped selling to him, he started being a regular at multiple establishments.
It was hard, after losing Max and El and Will and others Steve couldn’t think about without ripping open the wounds again. The portals were all closed, but at what cost? The world was technically saved, but Steve’s was a wreck. The metaphorical wounds were still ripped up and bleeding, fresh holes that would never quite stitch themselves over and heal.
His parents never came back, and he couldn’t even blame them, it’s not like he expected to be worth it to them. He was an adult now, on his own, there was no need for them to come back and pick him up. Honestly, he never wanted to see them again, didn’t really even know who they were. Steve had lived with practical strangers his whole life, made a semblance of family from skin and bone, and had it all ripped away from him.
Steve Harrington was always meant to be alone.
So he drank, went back to King Steve’s routes, used the alcohol to ground him while his mind drifted away to heaven or hell or wherever. It didn’t matter, because Steve never remembered the night before. The nightmares melted with the sunrise, the tremors and gasps, and flooding eyes gave way to cotton mouth and hunger in the daylight, and the blinding sun made it easier to forget all the bad things. Easier, but altogether impossible none the less.
So Steve didn’t quite remember how he ended up in the woods behind his house, dead leaves tangled in his hair and a particularly sharp twig shoved into his spine. He groaned against the sunlight blinding him through the branches and dug the stick out from under him, standing up on wobbling legs to trudge back inside. It wasn’t uncommon to find himself on his porch or lying in an old and tattered lounge chair, or even on a park bench some times. He wandered a lot. There was nothing else to do.
He still had money in his trust fund, still had his parents house to stay in, it wasn’t like anyone was knocking on his door to put him back together. Eddie was somewhere, in another state or wherever he ran off to. Again, Steve couldn’t blame him, either. Wayne wasn’t here anymore, there was no reason for Eddie to stay after everything. There wasn’t any reason for Steve to stay, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go, either.
So he stayed. So he drank. So he blacked out and woke up outside sometimes.
He rested against a tree for a minute, trying to gain his bearings and see past the blinding sunlight, rubbing circles into his eyes until he saw sparks of white behind his eyelids. He was probably a mess, probably looked half dead, hadn’t been able to look into a mirror in months.
Blinking out into his backyard, he could see a bit better now but the world still wobbled on its axis just a bit. It would probably be another half hour until he was sober enough to see straight, but he wasn’t going to stay in the burning sun for that. He trekked across the dead grass of his yard, using passing lawn chairs and tables as crutches to make the distance more bearable, ignored the memories pressing at the edges of his mind and embraced the pain in his head to push the thoughts away.
The house seemed a bit cleaner on the inside than he last remembered, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t remember the last time he cleaned, but he couldn’t remember much of anything these days. That was the point, after all.
Steve rounded the hallway into the open arch of the kitchen entry — hoping he had some cereal left in the pantry somewhere, not brave enough to handle the stares and whispers he’d get at the diner or grocery store — when he was roughly slammed against the kitchen wall. His head swam with the abrupt movement, stomach churning uncomfortably. He blinked against the sudden impact, feeling one of his own kitchen knives at his throat; pressing, but not digging, a warning. The knife wobbled slightly before the grip righted, pressing just a bit stronger than before, a threat.
Steve opened his eyes, trying to get his brain back online in his hazy state. Putting the pieces together slowly. Brown hair. Curly. Angry eyes. A set grimace on his lips. Eddie Munson. The last time Eddie Munson had a sharp object to his neck, Steve was pinned to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boat house. Now, pinned to the wall of his own kitchen, Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away, couldn’t fathom what Eddie would be doing here, either.
“Eddie? What the fuck are you doing in my house?” He asked, pushing through the uncomfortable cotton mouth and stale alcohol taste on his tongue.
Eddie just stared at him, the hand fisted into Steve’s shirt tightening. He winced.
“Seriously dude, what are you doing?” Was he still asleep outside? Was he ever outside? What the hell did he drink last night?
Eddie kept staring, glaring, like Steve did something wrong again. Steve always did something wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what. The grip on his shirt tightened again, pinching Steve’s chest and clearing his head just a bit more. Definitely not a dream.
“Who are you?” Eddie growled out, shoving Steve harder into the wall.
Steve blinked. What? That was not the question Steve was expecting. Not that he was expecting any of this, really.
“Who. Are. You?” Eddie repeated.
“Steve. Harring-ton?” Steve replied, following the other man’s cadence, words dripping with confusion.
Eddie’s glare tightened like his grip, knife digging into his throat just a bit more. He was sure his brain should be screaming danger, danger, danger, but the fact that it was Eddie standing in front of him was throwing him way off kilter.
“Seriously, Eddie, what’s going on?” Steve begged, unsure if the confusion muddling his brain was because of the alcohol, lack of any decent nutrition for the past few months, or something else. Did he seriously miss something so big that had Eddie up in arms like this? He couldn’t possibly look so bad he was unrecognizable.
“Is this some kind of trick from Vecna? Hm? What are you?”
“Eddie, man, I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about!” Steve’s voice was gaining a more hysterical edge at this point, but it had no effect on Eddie what-so-ever. “I am so not sober enough for this, just tell me what’s going on!”
“Steve Harrington is dead!” Eddie yelled in his face, “Steve Harrington is dead, so what the fuck are you?”
—
If y’all have world building questions pls ask in the replies because maybe it’ll get me somewhere near a plot. Anyway, please enjoy sad lonely Steve
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@kikker-oma Have a little hurt/comfort/fluff(ish) Healthcare snippet to help you get through being sick. I hope you feel better soon! ❤️ (@hermitdrabbles56 come get your healthcare au soup 😂👍🏻)
Legend wasn’t the best at emotional support and care, and he’d be he first one to admit it. But he also knew when to recognize that a situation was rough and when someone would probably need help through it. The matter was what was he supposed to do.
When Hyrule walked briskly into the emergency department, blood trailing up his arms and seeping into parts of his clothes, hair a frizzy mess, Mo equally disheveled, and a firefighter Legend didn’t know at his side… he knew it was bad. He’d known it was bad based on the incoming report.
The trauma room had been packed, as it always was for alpha alerts. Voices layered over each other as they worked to transfer the patient to the bed from the stretcher. Machines beeped as devices were unhooked and reattached. The emergency attending called for silence so Hyrule could give his report.
“Unknown age male, approximately in his 20s, found down on a back road. He’s been unresponsive for us the entire time. He’s got a ton of bleeding from the back of his head and it feels depressed in the back, unequal and soft, likely has a skull fracture. Pupils unequal, right side larger than the left, but both reactive. No step off or anything palpating c-spine, flail chest with deformity on the left side, large laceration on the left arm that we’ve got wrapped, and just road rash all over. We don’t know if it was a hit and run or what the deal was. He was originally 88/50, and tachycardic in the 130s, SpO2 in the 80s. We intubated him with a 7.0, it’s 20… something—um, 22 at the teeth. Lots of blood in the airway that we are clearing out. He’s got two bilateral 16G IVs, we gave him 1.5L normal saline, he’s gotten TXA as well. His BP improved to 108/74, was the last one we got. He’s been sating in the 90s since we got the tube in. I don’t have a medical history or anything, no witnesses to what happened.”
As soon as Hyrule had finished, other providers were calling out findings. Legend noted out loud when vitals were dropping again. The emergency nurse glanced at Hyrule as he walked away and saw the medic belatedly realize just how much blood he’d gotten on himself. Mo was already washing his own hands at the nearest sink.
He barely had time to even consider saying anything to the kid, but he certainly didn’t have time to talk to him right now. So he made a note for later as Time talked to the emergency physician and they prepared to go to CT.
Hours later, Legend sat down in the locker room, exhausted, and grabbed his phone.
Hey Rulie, wanna hang out?
He didn’t know Mo that well, but he knew Hyrule. He knew that medic didn’t really hang out with anyone who he didn’t know from work, which meant his circle of friends—though expanding since they’d recently met some new people—was fairly limited. And he’d never heard of the teenager mention family. Four was working a day shift today, Time was still in surgery, and Warriors was coming in to work today as well. Wind was in school, and Wild was out sick with Twilight holding him hostage so he rested. Legend didn’t know what Sky was doing—he disappeared off the face of the planet sometimes, it was a little disconcerting—so he couldn’t rely on him. Which was unfortunate because Sky (and Twilight, Legend was discovering) was fairly emotionally supportive.
Which meant it was up to him.
I’m not built for this, he grumbled in his head, but his worry for his friend far outweighed any awkwardness and anxiety on the matter.
When he didn’t get an immediate reply, he started wondering if Hyrule had just gone home and gone to sleep. A part of him was relieved and a part still worried. By the time he got to his car, though, a text popped up on his screen.
Hang out? Didn’t you just get off work?
So he was awake. Legend’s fingers moved quickly. I mean we don’t have to now but like in general. Later today?
Sure
Perfect. This was going to be fine. Yeah. Legend could offer support. He could, thank you very much.
Six hours later, he groaned as his alarm went off, and his confidence and concern on the matter were far lower than earlier.
Maybe we can hang out tomorrow, he thought as an exhaustion headache thrummed against his skull. But when he grabbed his phone, Hyrule had already texted him.
I was thinking we could go hiking! There’s a trail where we can watch the sunset.
Ah. Well, now he was committed and his friend was excited. He definitely wasn’t delaying this.
Except it was butt cold outside, he discovered to his dismay as he wrapped himself in several layers of jackets.
Be a supportive friend, yeah, it would be great, terrific, wonderful, WHY IS THE WIND BLOWING IT’S COLD ENOUGH—
Legend nearly scampered to the safety of his car, the bitter wind held at bay, and then yelled at how frozen the seats felt. “Damn it all, why is—what the hell made Hyrule think today was a good day to hike?!”
After too short a time to warm the car up, he finally met Hyrule at the designated spot at the edge of town.
“Why the hell are you biking here?” He exclaimed as he rolled his window down. Hyrule, cheeks flushed and smile bright, jogged over and slid into the car from where he’d locked his bike at a post. “It’s eighty thousand degrees below zero out there!”
Hyrule sniffled with a chuckle. “It’s not that bad. Was your last travel assignment at a beach or something?”
“No, it was somewhere where people didn’t hike just as winter’s moving in,” Legend fired back irritably before remembering he was supposed to be helping right now.
Well, you know what, being here is helping. So there.
He needed to drink more of his energy drink.
Legend’s next great discovery was that the hiking trail in question was blessedly short, much to his relief, but made up for its lack of mileage in a steep gradient that was fairly equivalent to rock climbing.
“You said hiking, not mountaineering,” he noted as he crawled on all fours to get over some rocks on the trail.
“Don’t worry, this means we’re almost at the top!”
Hyrule was correct in his assessment, allowing Legend to finally catch his breath and to freeze in place at the view.
The valley was littered with color, duller now that winter was beginning its long hold on the land, but notable nonetheless. Browns, oranges, yellows, reds, greens all intermingled like paint mixed on a canvas, contrasted against an autumn blue sky, which was slowly staining gold and crimson with the oncoming descent of the sun.
“It’s nice, right?” Hyrule prompted as he glanced at his friend.
“Yeah,” Legend had to agree quietly. Then he remembered his purpose for this outing and felt his stomach twist. “So I got blankets and food and stuff, let’s sit down and chill.”
Hyrule cheerily agreed, and the pair settled with their feet hanging over the rocky edge of the mountain. The wind was still stupidly cold, but now Legend had blankets wrapped around him, and he was already warmed up from the exertion.
“Hey, so…”—great heavens above he sucked at this—“Um. About that call last night. You… uh, you wanna talk about it?”
“What was the verdict?” Hyrule asked. “He still alive?”
“He was when I left, though I doubt it’ll last. Massive head bleed and skull fragments in the brain. Anything he could break was broken in some way or another.”
Hyrule hummed. “Figured.”
“They found out how it happened, though,” Legend noted.
“Was it a hit and run?”
“Nope. Alcohol in his system, dude was having an argument with whoever was driving, they were going 55mph and this guy decided he was going to end the argument but stepping out of the vehicle while it was going that fast.”
Hyrule stared. “He… did that to himself? And not SI, just like straight up—wow. We sure there weren’t drugs involved too?”
“Tox screen was negative for everything except EtOH.”
Hyrule huffed, leaning back and looking out again. “Wow.”
“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Legend muttered, glaring at the scenery. The careless idiocy of the maneuver still got under his skin. They’d all worked damn hard to keep that moron alive.
And that’s what he was. A moron. Because life was precious and he’d literally tossed his out the window because of poor choices.
And now they had to pick up the pieces.
“So… you good?” Legend glanced hesitantly to his right. “I mean… that was a lot. Even in the hospital. I can’t imagine being the one scraping him off the pavement.”
Hyrule chuckled nervously now, shifting in place. “I mean, it was… a mess but yeah. I’m ok.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah.”
“Great.”
The wind blew again, and Legend didn’t feel it, turning sharply to face his friend. “Okay but most people aren’t okay after that.”
Hyrule scrunched his nose. “Are you okay?”
“This isn’t about me!”
“You seem like you’re not okay.”
“Rulie for the love of G—”
“Hey, you said to Sky you wouldn’t swear like that.”
“Fine, for the love of all things holy, you can just not be okay with me!” Legend continued, waving his arm in a frustrated manner. Because he was frustrated, he was tired of everyone having to be okay with what they saw and dealt with, he was tired of the taboo behind being hurt and affected.
He wasn’t that affected by it, but people usually were!
“You want… me to be not okay with you…?” Hyrule repeated, clearly confused.
Damn it all he sucked at this.
Legend took a steadying breath, rubbing his face. “I want. You. To be okay. With not being okay. That call freaking sucked.”
Hyrule was silent for a long time after that, and Legend was again wondering why he’d thought any of this was a good idea. He took a swig out of his energy drink and looked away awkwardly.
“Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”
Legend glanced over at his friend to see him staring out at the valley below, eyes distant, shoulders slumped. The nurse sat up straighter, choosing his words carefully. “If what’s worth it?”
“All the effort we put into it. Like… we all knew that guy wasn’t going to make it.”
“He… might…” Legend lied helplessly.
Hyrule continued to look at the scenery before huffing and smiling. He closed his eyes, bowing his hand and leaning forward with his hands on his knees.
Legend reached out hesitantly, settling a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. Hyrule let out a shuddering sigh, and Legend squeezed his hand in support.
“It’s always worth it for the chance that they do,” Hyrule said softly. “But yeah… that call sucked.”
Legend bit his lip and nodded, offering silent support as the two huddled close against the wind. No more words were exchanged for the hour that they stayed there. No words were needed. But when Legend finally felt too frozen solid to sit there any longer, the gentle peace was finally broken.
“Okay, now you get to carry me down because my knees aren’t tolerating that rock climbing shit.”
Hyrule laughed, bubbly and joyful and free, face more radiant than the sunset, and Legend smiled.
They’d be alright.
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