#tw: head trauma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schrijverr · 2 years

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Stuck in My Head

Between Jonathan, Billy and the Russians, Steve’s brain has taken enough damage for it to be permanent. He tries to deal with it, but with the Upside Down coming back, he can’t keep doing it alone. So, he confides in Eddie, the most unlikely person, but the only one who doesn’t yet count on him to be strong. The secret gives them a bond that helps them grow closer together as Eddie has Steve’s back and shows him he’s worth something.

On AO3.

Ships: Steddie

Warnings: head trauma, hospitals, chronic conditions, smoking, self esteem issues

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve is very much not okay. He likely hasn’t been okay since that night at the Byers house with Nancy and Jonathan and a gigantic demogorgon, however, he is even more not okay now. Because right now everything is falling apart for the fourth time and Steve is struggling on every front even though they all need him to be strong right now.

Because right now, something has cursed Max and is killing people, setting Eddie on the run for a murder he didn’t commit as the party scrambles to figure out what’s wrong, even though the most powerful person isn’t here right now. Even though the adults aren’t here right now.

Before last year, Joyce and Hopper were always there to count on. Now, it was just him. Sure, Nancy and Robin were adults too, but the kids have always looked to him when things went to shit. They rely on him and he can’t let them down. But the pressure of being the responsible one can be crushing and Steve is feeling pretty crushed.

And it would be better, if it were just suddenly being the one responsible when it all went to shit, but Steve knows that it isn’t just that.

Steve knows that it’s more.

He remembers that cold doctor’s office. Those white walls and noises outside the door, beeps and people walking, yelling. How the doctor looked at his file and whistled, wondering out loud how Steve was still alive after all that, before informing him of the dangers of so much head trauma. Of how he could develop problems over time.

At that point, Steve was just happy to have survived the summer and the mall wit Russians. He had seen enough shit to believe that whatever those problems were, it couldn’t be worse than what he had already lived through. And, maybe. Maybe a part of him couldn’t imagine that such problems would happen to him.

When it first started, he could chalk it up to something else. Yeah, of course he was anxious, anybody would if they’d seen what he’d seen. And maybe he was a little bit more irritable, it was only natural with sleep issues, because again, giant monster, torture, etc.

It was natural and Steve didn’t think much of it. He’d let Robin talk to him about her nightmares often enough to know he wasn’t alone. He just didn’t want to bother anyone else with them and it was comfort enough for him that he could help the others with theirs.

And once those morphed into having less energy and motivation or feeling tired for no reason from time to time, well, Steve could shrug that off. Hell, Steve had shrugged it off.

Just like he shrugged off how his heart would race sometime. It was natural, he told himself. He still got scared by shadows from time to time, because he didn’t know what was hiding in them. Or of strange noises outside that were almost always small animals or stupid kids when he went to check it out with his nail bat. A little racing heart just fit in the picture.

He was fine. He is fine. He had to be.

That was when it got worse. Steve has never been the sharpest tool in the shed and he knew it, however, he made through high school and he knew his limits. He knew what he could and couldn’t do and he knew for a fact that he didn’t used to be this shit at reading.

Steve figured out something was wrong when he had a shift alone. It was Tuesday morning, no one was really coming in to rent a video at that time, so not much personnel was necessary. So, it was just Steve, who was trying to check if the inventory was still correct. But he was just going so, so incredibly slow. He kept spacing out, having to restart and getting distracted by every little thing around him.

Not only that, but he was incredibly slow on the uptake that something was even wrong. It wasn’t until he was re-reading the same bit for the fourth time that an alarm bell rung in his head. However, before he could do anything, the bell rung as a customer came in.

It took him a moment to realize what the bell meant, only figuring it out when the lady was already at the counter, her pulled up hair making her already stern face more stern. She slapped a horror movie on the counter. Steve was unable to make out the title though he tried, as she started ripping into him for renting it to her son when it was R-rated.

For a big part of her tirade Steve stared at her, confusion all over his face as he tried to grasp why she was yelling at him, part of his brain screaming that this wasn’t normal. And, too make it worse, it only clicked when she huffed: “God, you’re thick too. Is that why you can’t even realize what you’re renting to a minor? Are you stupid, Steve?” she read the name from his jacket and used it like a curse.

Steve felt stricken. Not by the lady (he had learned to deal with customers like this long ago back at Scoops Ahoy, okay), but by what she made him realize.

He was slow. He was already used to being a bit on the dumber side, but he could usually catch on with a bit of explanation. This, however, this was something he should have grasped in moments, but he didn’t. He was getting slow.

Fuck, Steve couldn’t afford to be slow.

On a logical level, he knew they closed the gates and that it was over. The Mind Flayer was gone and so were the demogorgons and demodogs. And the Russians. Hawkins was safe again, but Steve didn’t feel safe and if he was slow, how could he protect those kids if it went wrong again?

There was panic gathering in his throat, tears stinging in his eyes that had nothing to do with the lady still slinging insults at him.

Luckily for Steve, he had a lot of practice pretending that he was fine when he was most definitely not. So, he stood there and nodded at the lady, while he tried not to feel like he was drowning. Only collapsing to his knees when she left to store, after which it took him a good half hour to calm the fuck down.

So, he figured out something was deeply, deeply wrong with him. Something concerning. And he remembered that faithful doctor’s visit after the Russian/Mind Flayer debacle.

He was pretty sure the librarians eyebrows tried to leave her face when he requested to know where the medical books were, pointedly ignoring the fact that he had forgotten what things he should have been looking out for. Until memory issues was staring him right in the face, right alongside a bunch of other things he should have noticed, but didn’t.

Holy fucking shit, he should have noticed. He should have guessed walking away from three concussions wasn’t that easy. He should have noticed. Should have listened better. Should have remembered. Should have kept an eye on it. Shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid.

Because Steve isn’t as on top of things as he used to be and the trauma niggling at his brain can’t help but remind him that it can all go to shit again. And if it does go to shit, his brain says, then you’re the adult. The responsible one. You can’t be falling apart when they need you.

And that fear stuck. It lodged itself right behind his sternum, ready to reach his lungs, heart, stomach and throat whenever a nightmare woke him. Or when he got jumpy in the day.

Steve kept a better eye on things, wrote down the symptoms and keeps the list close as he found himself forgetting it, despite the fact that he reads it over and over and over again. The amount of difficulty he had reading it, differing each time.

Since he was keeping an eye on it, he suddenly noticed it more. Or it got worse. Steve didn’t know which one was better.

He noticed when his vision started blurring from time to time, having to cover it up in front of Robin as they stacked tapes or in the car, hating himself about how dangerous that was whenever he had the kids with him. He would never forgive himself if they survived all that shit, only to die in a car crash with Steve. But it was just too damn hard to say no whenever they asked for a ride.

He also noticed when he started loosing things. First it was his car keys, nearly making Robin and Dustin late, then it was his wallet, a movie he rented and his jacket. Until he found that he had lost himself.

It was a terrifying experience.

The whole thing happened after he had dropped off Dustin and Steve was glad he was alone when it happened. Throughout the years, he had made it his business to know his way through town. At first it was to get to each hook-up smoothly or easy get aways form parties crashed by cops, but after the thing at the Byers’ house, Steve made it his business so that they would always have a way home or a way from the danger.

So, when he found himself in a part of Hawkins he should know, but didn’t, his heart started racing and this time it wasn’t randomly. He knew this part of town. He knew for certain that he knew it. He just didn’t have a clue where to go next.

A wave of tiredness overtook him and he found his concentration slipping. Not wanting to be distracted on the road, Steve pulled over, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he sat in his car, trying to remember which way to take.

The restless night he had before was in no way helping and the light was prickling in his eyes. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders shake with tearless sobs.

In the end, he must have sat in his car for twenty minutes, staring at a familiar yet unknown road as his knuckles turned white. And it was only when his breathing calmed down that he remembered there was a map still tucked in his trunk from a camping trip back in ‘82 with Carol and Tommy H., so he stumbled to it, holding it like a holy grail.

That map stayed in the glove compartment after the incident.

He made sure to always leave with time to get lost whenever he was picking up the kids or Robin, praying that it wouldn't happen again with them in the car and practicing excuses for when it inevitably did.

It was also at this point that he started to notice the headaches. The headaches had always been there of course, but he used to be able to chalk them up to something other than his fucked up head.

However, when lights started to burn his eyes and little noises sounded amplified as if they were coming from a concert speaker, he saw again the words written on his list. ‘Sensitivity to light and sound.’ That was what the great King Steve had come to.

A bitter part of him spat that he was already sensitive to light and sound, hating himself for how he jumped at monsters that weren’t there when the floor creaks. Or how the lights moved to morph into humanoid or dog-like shapes ready to get him.

But that didn’t change that this was another thing he connected to his fucked up head. Hell, he had a whole fucking list of things that could become a struggle when- (if, he attempts to convince himself, but it’s hard) if something in Hawkins goes to shit again.

In that he ignored how it could be an issue now, because it was only an issue for him. So, he had his list, heck, he became a master at lists, sticky notes, reminders. He had his map with him at all times, even when walking. Made sure to do everything in his power to sleep well, even drink that disgusting tea. Tried to make Robin do all the inventory/reading jobs around and let her pick their morning movies. And played up the airhead more, so that people would be less mad if he forgot something.

The pain was the easiest part. He had been hiding anxiousness, headaches and irregular heartbeats for so long that it was second nature now. It would be fine. He had to be fine.

However, by the time he had come to terms that was something permanent. That he wasn’t fixing it, just lessening the impact, trying to be as useful as possible, Hawkins was in deep shit again. Like he’d predicted. Like he’d feared.

So, no, Steve is very much not okay.

He is very far from okay, because they have just come from a house that belongs to a drug supplier where a man suspected of murder is currently hiding while they know that it is actually a monster from another dimension that can curse people, not to mention that Max is cursed, which is also fun to find out. On top of that, they just broke into the school to read documents they absolutely shouldn’t! Oh yeah, and the entire basketball team has turned into vigilantes and are trying to find his kids as well as Eddie.

Safe to say that Steve is a little bit stressed out. A fact that is not at all helped by the headache forming behind his eyes, which only aids his building irritation.

A part of him wants to turn that irritation outwards, to get annoyed with Lucas for ditching them and getting caught up in something dangerous. Even though he supports Lucas and wants him to find a balance between sport and DnD if that’s what the kid wants. He wants to snap at Nancy, who went nosing around a crime scene, because she couldn’t leave it alone.

But, he can’t. It’s not their fault something is broken in his brain and creating more friction is the last thing they need. So, he turns it inwards. Blames himself for not noticing something was up with Max, for not trying harder to check in with Lucas when he way MIA, and for not thinking to call Nancy when it hit the news, knowing she wouldn't be able to help herself and go check it out without protection.

However, all that building irritation at himself doesn’t make sleep any easier. And he has to fight himself to stop the irritation from turning towards Max, her pen on paper reverberating around his skull.

Steve doesn’t sleep much that night, but pretends to be knocked out for most hours. He has to project a sense of calm and ease to the others after all. Steve is always fine and they need that rock to lean on, he can deal. He has been dealing for a long while already.

With that, the morning doesn’t grand him much kindness, though the irritation has turned into anxiety during the night, which isn’t eased by the goodbye letter Max gives him, as if she doesn’t believe she is going to live. Nor is it helped by Nancy, who wants to throw herself back into danger without Steve there to help.

And Steve protests that plan. Protests hard. Tries to tell her that he has his charm, that he can help, but a part of him knows that this relies on remembering the cover story, on making the impression of a quick witted college student with a passion. And right now, he feels his brain turning slowly – too slowly – and he hasn’t read the cover at all, because reading seems hard today.

So, maybe, he doesn’t fight as hard as he could have and maybe he doesn’t mind that much that he is stuck as the babysitter again. With the basketball team looking for Dustin and Lucas, while Max is a target of Vecna, his anxiety is eased by them at his side. And he knows that Nancy can save her and Robin should the need arise, even if it makes him a bit uneasy that he won’t be there.

Of course his kids are on a mission to raise his blood pressure, because Max doesn’t want to stay put where it’s safe and if Steve didn’t have such a bleeding heart for those little hellions, he would have put his foot down harder.

She demands to be taken by her trailer, before going to the cemetery. The whole thing puts his teeth on edge and he hates how slow his brain is when he feels danger closing in on all sides, something obvious in Max’s eyes when she comes back in the car after dropping off her letters.

It starts to suck even harder when he looses all sense of direction on their way to the cemetery, despite the fact he comes there to visit his grandma. Luckily, the kids don’t know that and he can pretend he hasn’t been there before. On top of that he has made it a habit to indicate where he’s going far before the turn, so that when he doesn’t people will jump in and he can pretend like he was about to turn.

At the cemetery, he watches Max closely as he takes a second to breathe. His heart is beating like a maniac and he doesn’t know whether he’s anxious and off about this whole thing, or if it’s just his heart acting up, making him a bit lightheaded.

He finds a bit of relief in the fact that his instincts are still as sharp as ever, though that is vastly overshadowed by Max lifting off the ground as they scramble to save her.

They do, but in the nick of time and Steve is now glad he didn’t go with Nancy and Robin. He lets his hand rest on her shoulder and mentally wonders why it’s always these kids, these kids who don’t deserve it, who have already been through so much, that get pulled into this bullshit every single time.

The group drives home and everyone is too out of it to notice that Steve took two wrong turns and only found the Wheeler house with pure luck.

Inside the two groups reunite and catch up, Steve’s headache still present as he sinks into the couch, a sudden exhaustion washing over him. He blinks blearily, not really focusing on the details that are exchanged, deciding that he’ll figure out the most important things eventually and that smarter people than him are on solving the mystery. He just needs the strength to hit something with a bat, so he allows sleep to take him.

That feels like a bad decision the very next day, when they’re in front of a creepy house looking for something. Steve has no clue what though.

Everyone else seems to have figured out what the hell they’re doing there and he assumes they must have told him too, but he can’t recall it. When Dustin asks him if he has to be told everything, he can’t help the shame welling up in his chest, a part of him whispering that Eddie could have kept up with everyone. With Dustin.

The feeling is only slightly quelled when he can track Vecna for a few moments with his flashlight and everyone talking about the developments helps him get caught up on what that means for them exactly.

Steve is actually having a pretty good day when they go inform Eddie of what they are finding on Vecna when they pull up to find police crawling all over the place.

Fortunately, their worst fears aren’t true. Eddie isn’t captured and they are able to make contact with him, so that they can meet up and regroup. Though it required a hike through the woods, something Steve used to love, but hasn’t with the fear of getting lost by himself.

However, he has forgotten that getting lost is one of the symptoms of long term brain trauma, so confidently takes the group in a direction. Relief washes over him when Skull Rock comes into view along with the memory that what he just did was really stupid. So, if he basks in that relief by rubbing it in Dustin’s face, that’s his own business.

The others fill Eddie in on what has been happening, while Steve tries to blink the blurriness in his eyes away, desperate to listen in as well and make sure he has everything straight. Glad when his confusion at their words is only caused by the fact that they’re talking in nerd metaphors (though that also sends a stab of jealousy towards Eddie through his chest).

When they walk this time, Steve is more than happy to let Dustin take the lead. Happy to walk in the back, watching their rear and not as visible when he stumbles over roots that are hard to see when his eyes are like this.

The good day flushes down the drain even further when the compass leads them to Lover’s Lake, the water sloshing ominously in the dark.

It’s obvious that people have to go check it out and that it will be dangerous. The older teens are of course going and Steve is torn as he holds the boat for them to board between the kids on the shore and the teens in the boat.

Logically, he knows the Upside Down is more dangerous than a few jocks, (hell, he remembers how shit he was at fighting back then, despite the big mouth about it), but they are his kids and it feels wrong to just leave them behind like that, no matter how short.

In the end, he knows he had made up his mind the second he knew what they were looking for, his brain was just slow to make the actual decision.

“You said three!” comes Dustin’s offended voice when Steve pushes off he boat and jumps in, the yell tugging at his heart.

Apologetically, he turns around, whispering: “Sorry.”

The (suspected) portal is in the middle of the lake, naturally. This time, something in his brain overrides everything and the decision that he will dive is easily made, even if it takes a second before his mouth is forming the explanation.

He dives in and the cold water is a welcome shock to his system, it clears his head and the murky water makes that he can ignore how his vision is blurry too. A small part of him tells him how stupid he is for being the one looking when there is a chance he won’t see or forget or get lost if he does.

However, the portal is highly visible, it being a gigantic red glowing tear in reality. So, he thinks he’ll be able to find it again as he kicks off the ground, mentally repeating over and over again that he found it, until he breaks the surface and says it out loud.

Once the message is brought over he can relax, holding on to the side of the boat as he threads the water.

There is relief at none of the bad things happening and his vision is back as well. He is content to hold onto the side of the boat until someone gives him instructions, not really wanting (or being fully capable) of quickly making that decision for himself.

When he is suddenly grabbed by the ankle and yanked down, his relief grows that he’s the one in the water, though he attempts to break free to tell the other not to follow him down there. Briefly he succeeds, then he is fully dragged down into the murky darkness.

His lungs burn.

Heart pumps.

Down, down through the cold water he goes.

Then a red glow, slime, but most of all. Air.

Heavy, uncomfortable, sickly air is all around him and he greedily sucks it down as he tries to gather his bearings. Something that is quite difficult while being dragged over the hard ground by a hivemind vine.

The headache returns as his head bounces over the floor. Fear flashes through him. He can’t afford another head injury. He can’t.

Burning muscles strain as he lifts his head, fighting the vines. It’s in vain and it lets him go, throwing him against more vines.

For a second he lays there, panting. The realization that he’s all alone in the Upside Down hits him and a part of him wants to cry, while another part of him is glad that no one else got dragged into this mess. That Nancy and Robin are safe in the boat… That Eddie is safe with them.

Naturally, that is the moment when it all goes to shit even more and as Steve scrambles to his feet, he wonders why he ever considered this a good day, before a swarm of bats descents on him.

He fights. Of course, he fights.

He fights like his life depends on it – which it does. Hitting the bats with an oar that he found as anxiety eats at him, heart beating in his throat, the bat screeches ringing in his ears. He has read that adrenaline can be one hell of a drug and right now he’s glad to feel it’s effects.

However, it’s common knowledge that Steve never wins a fight, though, it shouldn’t come to a surprise to him at this point that he forgot.

A bat swoops down, choking him and any chance he had of keeping up with the bats flies out the window as he goes down. Hard. More bats swarming him, tearing at his flesh.

Steve feels like he has limited time to come to terms with the fact that he’s about to die as he struggles.

The fact that none of the kids, or his other friends, have to see him die is a small silver lining. That they don’t have to know that he was ripped to shreds, unable to win yet another fight. But he can’t stop struggling, he can’t accept it, because the others are still in danger. Vecna isn’t going to stop, because Steve isn’t there. The others will still have to fight, he just won’t be there to throw himself between them and the danger.

Still, he is nearly at the point of giving up, his strength failing him, eyes unable to focus and veins about to burst when the most horrid and greatest thing happens.

Nancy, Robin and Eddie are here. They’re saving him. But Steve can’t be relieved at the fact that he’s still alive, because they’re all there. His best friend is there. Throwing herself in danger despite the fact that it’s Steve’s job to throw himself in danger.

So, he peels himself up off the ground, because he can’t afford to lie there. His friends are in danger and he doesn’t care how much he’s hurting, he has a job to do.

Adrenaline takes over again, before he knows it he’s spitting out blood, chest heaving as he drops half a bat, trying to ignore how Eddie is looking at him.

Everyone looks okay and he hates how he can’t tell clearly as he stumbles, adrenaline wearing off as the fact that he nearly got ripped to shreds rears its head.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks.

‘No,’ he wants to say, but he knows he can’t. He has always been the okay one. After all they have gone through, he always bounces back first. He’s there for them, their rock. They can always count on him to be there for them. It’s the reason they can never know the concussions are getting to him, because then he won’t be there rock. Steve knows he isn’t good for much, but he can be there to catch them. He needs to be useful somehow and that’s his way.

So, he looks down and jokes: “Well, they took about a pound of flesh. But other than that? Yeah, never been better.”

And because he has always been fine Nancy believes him and after an assuring lopsided smile, so does Robin, even if she rambles anxiously about rabies. Not that they have much time to worry, because the bats are still circling nearby, blocking the exist back to their world.

Steve is more than happy to let Nancy take the lead. She is smart as a whip and he knows through experience he can count on her.

Together, the four of them run to the forest. Away from their escape route and into this dangerous world. Into the Upside Down.

The running is not good.

His sides are bleeding profusely, the ache shoots through him with every step he takes. The only consolation is that it hurts so bad that it distracts Steve from his pounding head, the chittering of creatures in the darkness grating on his nerves as well as headache.

They only halt when they can hide from the bats between the rocks. Steve doesn’t know whether he’s grateful or not. On one hand he longs for the rest, but on the other he knows that once he sits down, getting up will get so much harder.

However, Nancy is right in that he needs some sort of medical attention, even if he tries to deny it for a moment. So, he grits his teeth and lets her bandage his wounds, not showing her how much it actually hurts.

Robin is rambling in the background and while he wants to punch her, he’s also so very glad for the distraction, despite the fact that he hates she’s stuck there with him. That any of them are stuck there with him.

Yeah, he will always love Nancy on some level and want her safe. And Robin is his best friend, he’s her dingus, her guy, and the thought of loosing her takes his breath away. The fear for Eddie is the most surprising.

Eddie has been surprising.

The metalhead is nothing like Steve expected and yet everything he imagined and more. He hasn’t seen much of the guy, but he can appreciate how he treats Dustin. All the kids, really. Eddie has also fallen flawlessly in step with Robin, like they share something, and he follows Nancy’s lead without question. He just fits in their group.

He fits and he’s part of the group. So, he now falls under Steve’s protection.

That’s it.

Yet, when Steve looks at him, he feels more than a sense of duty. He hardly knows the guy, but he already considers him a friend and his eyes scream trustworthy in a way that makes Steve wants to spill his secrets.

And that should scare him. It does. Scare him, that is. It’s terrifying, however it’s also nice. Nice to have Eddie there. The only one in the group that doesn’t look at Steve and see this untouchable hero, just someone trying their best to help Eddie in this madness like everybody else in the party is trying.

Still, Eddie shouldn’t have been caught up into this and Steve feels for the guy as he hears him question Nancy about where they are exactly.

“It’s all a hivemind,” she explains about the vines, after warning him to be careful.

“A what?” Eddie asks.

And Steve remembers having that term explained to him. A bubble of excitement at remembering clearly wells up and he quickly simplifies: “All the creep crawlies around here. They’re like one or something. Step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.”

“Shit,” Eddie replies, which encapsulates their predicament quite well.

It’s all looking quite bleak and hopeless. But then Robin, gorgeous, rambling, smart Robin rambles her way into a solution. If he didn’t know her better, he could kiss her.

Nancy, of course, picks a course of action, surprising Eddie with her guns. Steve wants to grin at him, say ‘She’s insane right? And so cool and I’m so glad she’s on my side,’ but he doesn’t get the chance. His comment gets turned into a moment with Nancy and he’s getting a bit uncomfortable with the amount of moments they’ve had these part few days.

Like he said, he will always love Nancy. But she broke his heart and he is just getting over her properly. He can’t handle being a re-bound or backup option.

So when Eddie breaks it by throwing him his vest, his face full of judgment even as he playfully says: “For your modesty, dude,” he could kind of kiss Eddie too.

And that is a thought he doesn’t let himself linger on. He pushes it down and focuses more on the familiarity of pain as he puts on the vest. It smells like cigarettes, weed and Eddie’s sweat. He ignores that too.

“Okay, so Nancy’s house,” Robin says, looking around. “This is Skull Rock. Hey, Steve, you know the way, right?”

A fear grips Steve as he imagines himself leading them into the wrong direction in the hellscape, because he can’t tell them that he is lost. But he also can’t tell them why he can’t lead them, because they are in a very dangerous situation right now and he needs them to let him fight. He needs them to trust that he’s okay and that he’s got them, and they can’t do that if they knew about the list of symptoms burning in his pocket.

“What?” he decides to play up the airhead. “No. I know my way to Skull Rock in our dimension, alright. These creepy trees and shit aren’t my markers.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, reminding everyone that it’s her house they’re going to, and he accepts her annoyance, because it is better than her distrust. And he lets her take the lead, Robin hot on her trail after sending Steve a confused look.

However, that doesn’t matter, because they walk away without fear. Both have forgotten that Steve is badly injured and trusting him to have their backs. To guard the rear. And to Steve, that’s all that matters.

Eddie doesn’t have that instinct yet and Steve is torn between grateful and scared of the way Eddie looks at him, waiting to catch up so that they can walk side by side.

He mulls it over as they walk. If this all goes to shit (and he knows it will) they could use another fighter. With a flush he remembers Eddie pushing him against the wall in that shack with a glass bottle to his throat. They know Eddie can do something in a fight. Saw it in the fight just moments earlier.

With no Hopper to count on. No El. They need Eddie.

But he’d be putting someone else in danger. Not that they weren’t all in danger, he just means more danger than knowing about this already brings. Eddie doesn’t deserve that.

Yet- Yet Steve remembers his defeated look when he told them how he had run again. How he was willing to follow Dustin into Mordor, whatever that meant. Eddie wants to fight and if Steve is honest, he needs someone to have his back.

He knows he can’t keep covering all the empty spaces in their party by himself. Not when he can barely keep himself together. He needs the help and Eddie is the only person he can ask without being questioned or loosing his position as protector. The only position he is useful at.

So, he painfully jogs a bit to catch up as he calls out: “Eddie. Eddie,” getting his attention. “Hey, man. Uh. Listen, I just, uhm- I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there.”

“Shit. You saved your own ass, man,” Eddie smiles at him. “I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve repeats, dreading that he missed something again.

“When you took a bite out of that bat,” Eddie clarifies. When that doesn’t look to ring a bell, he adds: “Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off on stage…”

“I don’t-” Steve says helplessly.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter,” Eddie tells him.

“No?”

“It’s very metal, what you did,” Eddie says. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Thanks,” Steve replies, feeling fuzzy at the praise. He has always needed the validation, pathetic as that may be.

“Henderson told me you were a badass,” Eddie continues. “Insisted on the matter, in fact.”

“Henderson said that?” Steve asks, unable to help the hopeful tone. He has been feeling shit ever since the murders started and the Upside Down came back, to know that his kids still think he’s cool and can save him is like a balm to his soul.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie confirms. “Shit. Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying to be honest.” Eddie pauses for a second, then sighs: “I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh, guess I got a little jealous, Steve.”

And hell if Steve isn’t familiar with that feeling. Though he is surprised Eddie is. He never expected that they would feel the same about the other and he feels a strange sort of kinship with Eddie through their shared connection with Dustin.

Before he can say something about it, however, Eddie barrels on: “I guess I couldn't accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude.” He lists: “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.”

Despite the fact that Eddie just told him that he doesn’t think he’s a douche, the words hurt somewhere. Maybe because all Eddie apparently knows about Steve is his old throne. King Steve, ruler of high school.

Fuck.

Steve hates King Steve with a passion. Hates the person he used to be. It was never him, but he had allowed himself to be pushed into that role, to push away all the soft, caring parts of him that weren’t allowed in the Harrington family.

“Still super jealous as hell, by the way.” He hears Eddie say and before he can stop himself, the words, “Don’t be,” are out of his mouth.

“What?” Eddie chokes in surprised. “Are you for real? You’re some kind of hero. Outside of DnD, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

And Steve can hear the self-deprecation in Eddie’s voice. It cracks something in him. He remembers how he had run himself when he first saw a demogorgon. Eddie shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Give yourself a break,” he says, nudging Eddie in an attempt to cheer him up.

Eddie stops him and replies: “No, the only reason I came in here was because those ladies came in straight after you and I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind.”

“Stop that,” Steve tells him. “Do you want to know what I did the first time I came into contact with any of this?” He gestures around to the Upside Down. He gets a curious look, which he takes as a sign to go on. “I ran.”

“What? No.”

“Yeah, man,” Steve confirms again. “I hid behind Nancy and Jonathan, then ran straight out of that house, much like you. Don’t think you aren’t a hero just because you’re comparing yourself to people who already knew the crazy things that go on in Hawkins. Besides, you’re more useful in a fight than me now, anyway,” that last part is muttered bitterly.

Eddie is quiet. Steve knows he’s thinking, but he can’t help but feel watched, exposed. Like he revealed too much and Eddie about to bolt, like everyone has always done.

“Don’t beat down on yourself,” Eddie tells him kindly after a few seconds. “You’ve just been mauled by bats, no one is the best after that. I’m sure under normal circumstances, you’d have me beat.”

The intention is nice and Eddie can’t help that he doesn’t know Steve’s normal is fucked beyond repair.

That Steve is broken beyond compare.

The list still burns in his pocket and Steve remembers why he thanked Eddie in the first place. How someone needs to know they have to step in when Steve goes down. That Steve needs the backup sometimes. Someone, who won't tell. And somehow, Steve knows that Eddie won’t tell.

“You’d be surprised,” he sighs sadly. He looks up at the dark, unnaturally cloudy sky and swallows a thick chunk of sadness and regret that’s stuck in his throat.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, noticing something is going is on. The wrongness obvious in Steve’s tone.

Steve glances to Nancy and Robin, who are walking ahead of them, oblivious of the two boys behind them. He catches Eddie’s concerned, confused look when he looks back and says: “You can’t tell anyone.”

At that Eddie frowns. “What the hell is going on, man?”

“They count on me, alright. You’re right, Dustin sees me as a hero. All the kids do. I’m the one who is always okay and they need to be able to count on me, but I’m not in the shape I hoped I’d be. I have to fight, but they can’t know or they’ll bench me,” Steve explains.

“Know what?” Eddie asks cautiously, but Steve hears that Eddie is at least willing to listen, so Steve just has to trust that he won’t go yelling.

He hands him the piece of laminated paper from his pocket and hands it to Eddie. “The ones that are underlined, I’ve already experienced.”

As Eddie reads, he mutters: “Sleep disturbances, irritability, anxiety, sudden tiredness and loss of motivation, occasional heartbeat irregularities, difficulty concentrating, reading and finding things, slowness to decide, think and speak, easy to distract, sensitivity to lights and noise, getting lost, memory issues, blurred vision. Steve, what the hell is this?” he whisper-yells at the end.

Part of Steve brain points out that this is the first time Eddie has called him by his name, but it’s overridden at the relief that Eddie is minding his volume. Not telling, like Steve alredy knew he would.

Still, he can’t face Eddie, so he looks away, grimacing as he shrugs: “Long term head trauma symptoms.”

“What!”

“Guess, getting my face beat in by Jonathan, a year later by Billy and then tortured by Russian soldiers does something to a guy,” Steve sighs, trying to play it cool.

“That- That is a lot to unpack,” Eddie swallows, brown doe-eyes wide. A realization hits him and he says: “That’s why you didn’t want to navigate to Nancy’s house.”

“Jup,” Steve nods. “And why I have the list. I keep forgetting all the symptoms.”

Eddie immediately gives it back, much to Steve’s relief. What isn’t great is that Eddie says, “You need to tell them,” right after.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t you listen? They need me to be strong,” Steve says. “We used to have more fighters, but El lost her powers and Hopper died. I’m the only one left.”

“Wait, police chief Hopper was in on this?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” Eddie says, before shaking his head and getting back on topic. “But Steve, you can’t hide this shit from them.”

“Yes, I can,” Steve immediately shoots back. “Look, we’re going to fight. We have to. We both know that. They know that. I’m the only fighter left right now and if I say something, they might put me on the bench. I can’t afford to be on the bench.”

“Don’t you think the bat mauling puts you on the bench?” Eddie asks, skeptical, but listening.

“Nah, that’s just pain, I can work through pain,” Steve shrugs. “But if they think I might forget the plan? Whole other story. And I can’t have that. I need to be there for them. Do you understand that, Eddie? I need to be there.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie wonders, a valid question. “Because someone needs to know,” Steve sighs. “As much as I hate it, I need you to fill me in when my brain can’t catch up and to watch my back in case I stumble. And, no offense, but you don’t have enough influence yet to bench me and I can lie if you do tell them.”

Eddie does look a little hurt, but also like he gets it, though he doesn’t agree. “Alright,” he gives in after a tense moment. “Alright, I’ll have your back. But I don’t like it.”

“I know you don’t, but thank you,” Steve says sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I might still run when danger comes,” Eddie replies bitterly.

“Somehow, I don’t think you will,” Steve tells him kindly. “You didn’t run at the gate, remember? I don’t think you will when they truly need you.”

Eddie gives him a look that is almost awed, making Steve a bit uncomfortable as Eddie breathes: “I get the hero worship now, damn, dude.”

At that point they’re at the Wheeler house and Steve feels part of him relax. They’re making progress and he has Eddie at his side now. He won’t be alone. Those kids will have someone to rely on, should his defense fail. That’s enough for now. It has to be.

He doesn’t follow them upstairs, waving them away with something about resting his injuries.

It is partially that, but he also just needs a moment to breathe. He just told someone about his head trauma issues. He told Eddie about his head trauma issues. And… And it felt good to have someone know about it, even if it was just so that he could act as back up and make sure Steve knew what the hell was going on.

But it is also terrifying that someone knows. That Steve revealed a weak spot. Because, yeah, Eddie is probably okay and there, but what if he isn’t?

What if Eddie gets scared? What if he runs? What if he gets tells them? What if? What if? It all runs through his head and if he isn’t careful, his headache will get worse. So, he shakes his head, he believes what he said about Eddie not running again. He has to.

That’s when he hears Dustin.

For a moment, he thinks it’s in his head and he checks his list to see if imagining voices is on there, but it isn’t. It’s Dustin. God, the kid’s voice has never been sweeter. He’s there, right on the other side.

He knows he must look insane to the others, with Robin questioning if he really does have rabies and Eddie sending him a look that screams ‘Is this a stepping in moment?’

Steve shakes his head, face split open, because if Dustin is here that means he’s safe. Not still out there in the woods waiting for them to come up from a lake, or doing something stupid in an attempt to save them.

Fortunately, the others at least humor him, soon convinced that he hasn’t lost his marbles completely. And soon they’re talking, well, communicating with the kids on the other side, forming an escape plan.

Biking is hell.

Steve hasn’t ridden a bike since he got his driver’s license and while he still knew how, he had forgotten how much movement is involved, which isn’t helping the wounds in his side. The bats have left their mark and the piece of Nancy’s shirt isn’t the best at stemming the blood.

But when they get to the trailer, he has never been happier to see his little shits, alive and well, still as smart as ever.

His sides are burning and he wants to pass out, however, he can’t buckle just yet. They still have to get out of the Upside Down and Steve will be the last one out, even if it kills him.

So, he stands back, controlling his breathing, watching as Robin climbs up, her clumsy movements making him smile. She’s followed by Eddie and Steve tries to ignore how his eyes track the other boy’s every move, kidding himself into thinking it’s because he wants to be sure Eddie makes it out safely. After Eddie, it’s Nancy’s turn, which is when it goes to shit, since no escape has ever been easy for them.

Steve had been watching Eddie for but a moment, yet when he looks back, Nancy isn’t here. Her eyes are blank and Steve realizes something is very very wrong.

He will always hate himself for how it takes a moment to register what is happening and a moment longer to call out to those above(? below?) him, his voice slow.

The others are scrambling to find music Nancy likes, while Steve tries to shake her out of it. Both relieved and guilty he’s not in the hectic commotion in their dimension.

As he stands there with Nancy, his anxiety ramps up. He has always hated it when his friends are in danger, but it’s even worse when it’s a danger he can’t hit, can’t distract, can’t be the target for. He just has to watch. It’s almost like Dustin crying after a nightmare, or Max calling him to pick him up, her voice cracking, or Robin panicking until she can’t breathe.

And now it’s Nancy. His first love and someone, whom he will always care about, even if she broke his heart.

But it isn’t about that right now. Right now he just holds her, wanting to anchor her in case she started to float. She still fits into his arms like he has always done and Steve feels something cracking in his chest, though it isn’t as strong as it used to be.

Because, yeah, she was his first love and she broke his heart, he will always love her, but now, with her trembling form in his arms, she feels more like Robin. Robin who always calls him after a nightmare, wanting to listen to his heartbeat and ensure he’s still there. Robin, whom he loves like a sister and who he always wants in his life.

With that revelation in place, he holds her tightly. The longest moment in his life, before she gasps and wakes up.

He gives her a boost through the hole and is glad everyone is too distracted about her well being to see how he drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Well, almost everyone.

Eddie is waiting for him, looking uncertain as he offers a hand, which Steve gladly takes. He groans as he’s pulled up and Eddie frowns with concern. “Alright there, sweetheart?” he asks, not noticing the pet name or how Steve flushes.

“I, uhm- I might need medical attention,” he confesses, softly. Though, not softly enough, because suddenly his kids are staring at him, their eyes wide and worried. He holds up a hand to stop the barrage of questions before they can start and says: “Don’t worry, you dipshits. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

The kids believe that, luckily. Eddie, however, sends him a look that says both ‘you’re so far from okay’ and ‘what the fuck did you do that makes those kids believe you like that?’

Steve just offers a shrug, since he also doesn’t know what he has done to deserve the trust of those kids. So, he changes the topic and asks: “Have first aid supplies?”

“You’re gonna need more than first aid, doll,” Eddie tells him. “But you’re a stubborn one, so follow me.”

Having been stunned by the pet name, Steve follows Eddie to the tiny bathroom. He lets himself be guided onto the toilet, while Eddie pokes around in the cabinet, puling out a first aid kit with a triumphant sound. He grins: “You’re lucky I’m accident prone and a trouble magnet, or this baby wouldn’t be as well stocked as it is.”

Eddie puts down the kit and flips it open, before turning to Steve. His confidence melts off him and he confesses: “I have no clue what to do here, man.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replies, tiredly. “Just need to make sure the wounds aren’t gaping, but clean and it’s all tied neatly together under some bandages.”

“I’m not stitching you up, dude. I’ll vomit. And I don’t think my vomit will be good for you,” Eddie blanches.

Steve chuckles, which hurts. He clutches his sides and says: “Tape them together or something. It’s mostly important that they’re clean.”

“Okay, tape. I can do tape,” Eddie swallows, getting out medical tape and cleaning alcohol. He soaks a bit of toilet paper in the alcohol, before bracing himself and cutting off the make-shift bandages, muttering something about not even trying with that girl scout’s knot.

Steve wants to tell Eddie that Nancy has never been a girl scout, corners of his mouth quirking up, despite the pain. But at that moment Eddie presses down the piece of toilet paper and Steve lets out a hiss of pain, biting his lip to keep from screaming. He’s all too aware of the kids right on the other side of the door.

It just hurts a lot and he can’t help the small noises that escape. Eddie looks like he feels like the most terrible person on earth, whispering soft apologies and comforts, pet names mixed in that make Steve feel much better, though he doesn’t want to look into why.

Eddie’s hands are rough, calloused finger tips ghosting over his skin as he soothes Steve after the cleaning, before gently applying the tape, wincing for Steve when he pulls the skin together. The touch is firmer when applying the bandages and Eddie soothes: “Almost done, sweetheart, almost done.”

And Steve is grateful for Eddie’s soft touch and rumbling voice that he can hold onto, because his eyes have trouble focusing and his brain isn’t holding on amazingly. Eddie anchors him, distracts him.

Once it’s all done, they sit in the bathroom for a second. Steve is still panting from the exertion, Eddie kneeling before him, shaking as he whispers: “Holy hell, I just did that.”

Again, Steve chuckles and it still hurts, but it’s worth is when Eddie smiles.

Apparently, they’ve been quiet for too long in there, because there is banging on the door as Robin asks: “Hey, did you OD in there, dingus?”

Steve snorts, clutching his side and he calls out: “Don’t be funny, Buckley. It hurts. Give me a second.”

“Thank god,” Robin exclaims. “You need to hurry with that second, before your children eat me or something.”

“They’re not going to eat you,” Steve rolls his eyes and misses the impressed look from Eddie as he hauls himself to his feet and stumbles to the door. He takes a moment to breathe, before throwing it open, his shoulders squared as he demands: “What’s this ruckus all about, huh?”

It’s a true mom-pose, but the kids all stop talking over each other. Then the silence is broken by Dustin yelling: “What the hell happened to you guys?” And Max overlaps: “Are you alright, Steve?”

“I should be asking you that, squirt,” Steve smiles. “What happened while we were down there?”

They all give him a one over, but when it doesn’t look like Steve’s about to faint (a front that is more difficult to maintain than Steve would like), they all start to talk over each other to recount their semi-arrest.

“What? I’m not there for a few minutes and you little shits almost get arrested?” Steve exclaims.

“Excuse you, I had nothing to do with their dumbasses,” Erica protests.

“I know, mini-Sinclair.” Steve’s face softens a bit, before turning to the others, who all defend themselves.

He lets them flounder for a moment. Then he stops the act and compliments them for their smarts on getting them out, before sending them all to bed. They’ve made a plan for tomorrow, they can worry about it then. “We need the rest. Regroup for a bit, so off to bed. No complaints.”

“You should also sleep, Steve,” Max softly says.

“I will,” he promises, unsure if he will be able to keep it. However, Max trusts his word and goes to make herself comfortable, rewinding the tape as she closes her eyes.

Steve does try. Contrary to popular belief, he isn’t a complete idiot and he knows that he should at least attempt to rest if he wants to be in good shape to be of any use tomorrow. But the wounds pulse with hurt and his head doesn’t want to let him rest. So he just lies there with his eyes open for most of what’s left of the night.

When the sky starts lightening, Steve has slept maybe two hours total spread over the night in cat naps. He’s tired and irritated and so ready to give up on sleep, so he gladly peels himself off the ground, since he let the others take the couch and stuff last night.

He notices there’s a light on in the kitchen and stumbles over, finding Eddie smoking, the ash tray next to him full, most of the cigarettes still smoldering. Eddie looks up when Steve enters, his eyes tired, like hasn’t slept either. “Don’t tell me it’s unhealthy,” he says.

“I’m not,” Steve promises. “Can I bum one off you?”

“You smoke?” Eddie asks, eyes widening in surprise as he lights the cigarette in his mouth, handing it to Steve, before grabbing the last one for himself.

Steve ignores the wetness as he puts the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling the smoke and letting the nicotine do its thing. Once he has exhaled, he answers: “Not often. I don’t want the kids to copy me, because that shit’s unhealthy. My brain- uhm, I’m frustrated?”

“Irritation,” Eddie fills in, remembering one of the symptoms and Steve is touched that he remembers and annoyed, because he can’t seem to.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing the thoughts away. “Today is going to be a lot. I can’t afford to be snapping. So,” he holds up the cigarette and takes another drag, “smoking it is.”

Eddie nods, watching him for a second as they smoke in silence. Then Eddie asks: “Are you going to be okay today? Because you can just say the word and I’ll annoy them into me switching places with you, no problem.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Steve answers. “I’m relieved Dustin will have you. He needs the backup, I have Nancy to fall back on. You’re where you need to be.”

“Alright, just making sure,” Eddie says. Then another thought pops into his head and he says: “This RV, right, uhm, someone needs to drive it. I don’t think me, being wanted and all that, should be sitting up front like that.”

“I’m driving,” Steve says.

“You?”

“Yeah, me.”

“No offense, sweetheart,” and Steve wonders when dude changed into sweetheart, “but you shouldn’t be behind the wheel in your condition.”

“Eddie, Eds,” Steve starts, stumbling for a second, before regaining confidence, “Robin doesn’t have a driver’s license and Nancy could get possessed behind the wheel. I’ve driven perfectly well while coming down from being drugged and tortured while having a severe concussion. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s actually concerning, Stevie, I hope you know that,” Eddie informs him and Steve didn’t really.

“What I was trying to say, is that I’m fine, okay. It’s not your business,” he snaps.

“It kinda is,” Eddie shrugs, ignoring how Steve snapped at him, because he knew why. “You’re about to throw yourself in danger, don’t you think your backup should know.”

“No,” Steve says, flagging again. He rubs his brow and sighs. “They have already lost enough safety. I can’t have them loose faith in me now. Not when Max is already the bait.”

Eddie shakes his head, stubs his cigarette and softly says: “You sure are something, sweetheart,” and Steve doesn’t know if it’s meant as a compliment or not, but it makes his heart flutter all the same.

Then they hear others starting to wake and Steve scrambles to put out his cigarette, wafting away the smoke towards Eddie, who snorts at him.

After that, the day is a bit hectic. They steal a fucking RV, Steve behind the wheel, not sure if he prefers ‘big boy’ over ‘sweetheart’ and why he is even thinking about it in the first place. Though, he puts it out of his mind easily when they run into Jason at the gun store, simultaneously finding out all his kids are being hunting as they haul ass.

Suddenly leaving them alone at the Creel house is looking less like a plan, but Steve knows he can’t let Nancy and Robin fight Vecna alone.

So, he just lets the anxiety build up in his chest as he listens to Robin and watches everyone have a bit of fun, despite all that’s hanging over them. Attempts to burn the image into his mind, just in case.

Before he knows it, they’re heading back into the Upside Down, Dustin with them, and god, if only he he could find a reason to send Dustin away.

To ease his own anxiety, he repeats: “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just-”

“The decoy,” Dustin finishes with him in a tone that indicates, he has said this multiple times before though Steve only remembers doing it once.

“Don’t worry, you can be the hero, Steve,” Dustin says, like Steve wants to be the hero, like he doesn’t want to stay behind without looking for things that will add fire to his nightmare fuel, like he doesn’t want to stay with the kids to ensure they were alright.

“Absolutely,” Eddie jumps on what Dustin is saying, but his tone is more of someone assuring Steve that they will be okay and not to worry. “I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.”

And Steve wants to say that they are, that they’re so fucking brave for coming into this hell dimension to be decoys. But he doesn’t, because he needs them to not be heroes. He needs them to run. So, he just nods and turns to walk away.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls out, before he can and hearing his own name in that voice is weird. It makes him miss ‘sweetheart’ for some odd reason. But he turns around to listen as Eddie requests: “Make him pay.”

He nods and then they’re truly off.

Steve is happy to follow Nancy, having no clue where they are the entire way to the Creel house. He is exhausted and waiting for the adrenaline to get him through this next fight. His sides still ache and his throat is sore. If they make it, he’s not looking forwards to the next few weeks of recovery at all.

After that it’s all kind of a blur. Steve isn’t sure whether his brain blocked it out to protect him from trauma, or if it’s his stupid head just acting up.

He only sees it in flashes. Vecna’s body. Being choked. Robin and Nancy being choked, fear in their eyes. Dustin crying. Eddie- Eddie’s eyes, dull. His own hands pushing down on that Hellfire shirt. Sirens in the distance. Eddie’s frail frame on that stretcher.

The whole debacle is now already a few days behind them. Max is in a coma, Eddie alongside her and Steve has been designated to bed rest, the bat bites proving worse than they had all thought. In those days, the group from California have come back down to Hawkins and Hopper is revealed to be alive.

So, it has mostly been tearful reunions and tearful meetings as Eddie was cleared off charges and his uncle finally allowed to see him, finally getting to know Dustin, who had been holding vigil in the hospital, alternating between Steve and Eddie, until Steve was well enough to join him at Eddie’s bedside.

For Steve, the past few days have also cemented that his problems with head injuries are not going away. This, he had already known of course, however, getting dragged over the ground had been the final nail in the coffin for his brain.

The blurriness is no longer temporary and the doctors are mentioning glasses. He has also given up on reading completely, the words making no sense unless he takes hours for it. And the memory issues are getting worse. Dustin is getting worried with how often he manages to loose the limited stuff he has at the hospital and in order to avoid pinching his face more (especially when he shouldn’t have that look in the first place, not for Steve) he has taken to doing very little. Music would be an easy hobby in there, but noises are more grating, headaches appearing more easily than before.

All in all, Steve is a bit of a mess, anxious to get away from prying eyes that could notice things he didn’t want them to.

It’s not that Steve is hiding from them at all costs, he just doesn’t want to burden them with it. They are still waiting for Max and Eddie to wake up, Hawkins went to shit and the Upside Down can always become a threat again. Steve’s issues are the least of their problems right now. Not to mention that with the Upside Down still a problem, they need Steve as fit as ever.

So maybe he is hiding… but just a bit.

When Eddie finally wakes up, Steve is off getting his glasses, which he doesn’t plan on wearing much. He’s about to clock in for his shift at the bedside when Dustin comes running out the room, yelling that Eddie is awake.

At that, Steve runs into the room, wide eyes as he takes in Eddie. He’s still pale, but his eyes are open and they have that spark again, they’re no longer dull. He takes in Steve’s heavy breathing, an indicator that he has run and smirks: “All that effort just for me, sweetheart?” in that teasing tone, in that great voice, and all Steve can do is grin and blush.

“You’re awake,” he breathes, longing to put on his glasses so he can see Eddie’s face better.

“Astute observation,” Eddie says, grin evident in his voice.

“Shove off,” Steve tells him, but he knows he’s grinning too. It’s strange. Before this, they hardly knew each other, but they feel like old friends now. Close. He vaguely remembers Nancy mentioning something called trauma bonding, but he waves the thought away in favor of asking how Eddie’s doing.

“Well, they have me on the good drugs, so, you know, living the life,” Eddie jokes and Steve snorts, the motion no longer sending sparks of pain through him.

After that Steve spends a lot of time next to Eddie’s bed. He enjoys watching as the man gets more and more livelier every time he swings around, though he can’t always see his face quite clearly, he discovers that Eddie puts his emotions in his voice, making him easy to follow.

Throughout the frequent visits, they grow even closer. Eddie has taken to jokingly flirting with him even more and Steve knew he would be relentlessly bullied for how he blushes if Robin were here to see him, instead of helping at the school with Vicky.

But because he spends so much time with Eddie (and because Eddie knows that he can be looking), he knows that Eddie notices how he’s gotten worse. How his speech has gotten slower and how he trails off sometimes or repeats what he has said.

However, he refuses to let Eddie bring it up. The man’s in the hospital for Christ’s sake, he doesn’t need to worry about Steve. So, he leaves to check on Max whenever it looks like Eddie is going to mention it.

Max has also woken up, which is the best news they’ve gotten so far. It will take a long time for her to recover, but with Lucas glued to her side and all the others to support her as well, Steve trusts that her strong spirit will make it through it.

Yet, Steve can’t deflect forever and today he has swung by Max first, so he doesn’t have his handy excuse at the ready.

He’s listening to Eddie talk, he sounds passionate. He’s planning a new campaign to play with the kids when he gets out of there. Steve knows that he must be grinning eye sparkling and Steve hates that he can’t see it clearly, though he’s squinting in an attempt to see.

Eddie, naturally, catches on. He stops mid sentence and Steve shifts under his stare and asks: “Why did you stop?”

“Steve…” Eddie sighs, as if he’s disappointed.

“What?” Steve deflects, hating how small his voice is.

“Why are you squinting?” Eddie asks, just biting the bullet as Steve winces at the observant question.

“Uhm,” Steve hesitates, knowing that an excuse won’t help, but also not wanting to fess up either.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can tell me,” Eddie says gently, making Steve blush. “Is your vision acting up again?”

“It’s not that bad,” Steve shrugs and hopes Eddie will drop it.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen you squinting every visit,” Eddie raises an unimpressed brow.

Steve throws his hands up and exclaims: “Okay, my vision has gotten a bit more shit. Is that what you want to hear? It’s nothing, man. You’re in the hospital for fuck’s sake, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Huh?”

“I do need to worry about you, doll,” Eddie clarifies, “because you trusted me to worry about you, so that’s what I will do.”

“But not when you’re in a hospital. I asked you that so that you could keep me upright throughout all the battle bullshit, that’s over now, Eddie. You need to focus on getting better, I will be fine now, promise. You don’t have to worry,” Steve rectifies his mistake, realizing why Eddie cares.

“Idiot,” Eddie shakes his head and Steve wonders what the hell he did wrong, because he thinks that Eddie looks sad about something he did and Steve doesn’t know how to make it better.

“I’m sorry?” he offers.

“No, Steve,” Eddie groans, wiping his face and Steve is really wishing he could pick up the look on his face more easily. “You don’t have to say sorry, sweetheart. I want to worry about you, I am worried about you and I can’t heal properly if I’m worried about you.”

A pang of guilt goes through Steve, he doesn’t want to be in the way of Eddie’s healing, besides, the other has noticed already, so he’s not revealing much. And Eddie hasn’t been mean about it yet, just kind and understand, if a bit exasperated.

“My vision is permanently blurred now,” he confesses softly. “When, uhm, when the bats dragged me over the floor, I kept hitting my head. Wasn’t the best for my brain. So, well, squinting it is, I guess.”

“That sucks, darling,” Eddie says softly. “Can’t the doctors do anything about it?”

“I- I have glasses,” Steve offers, “but I don’t really wear them.”

Eddie frowns. “Why not?”

“They’re ugly and people will ask about them,” Steve blurts out in a duh-voice, as if the reasons are obvious.

“Stevie…” Eddie trails off, like he doesn’t know what to do with Steve’s idiocy, then he picks up again: “It’s okay for others to know. We did it, right? You don’t have to be on guard constantly anymore. Besides, I think they’d look beautiful on you.”

God, if Eddie would stop complimenting him that would be great, because sitting by someone’s bedside after having dragged their near-corpse through another dimension, truly makes one reflect on how they feel. And Steve, well, Steve feels flutters. He likes Eddie, a lot more than he should. A whole sexuality crises has happened in the time Eddie was under and now he just keeps flirting and complimenting him.

Steve tries to ignore how it makes him feel, because Eddie has always flirted with him, even before he knew Steve, before he even liked him as a friend. He can’t let the crush get out of hand, so he pushes it all down.

Thus, he ignores the compliment part of it and protests: “The Upside Down can always come back. Twice I’ve convinced myself it wouldn't and it did, I’m not doing that again.”

“That’s not healthy, sweetheart,” Eddie informs him gently.

“I don’t care,” Steve crosses his arms. “I can take being unhealthy to keep them safe.”

“You’re not going to keep them safe by not seeing well, so put on your damn glasses so you can at least look at me while I give you a disappointed talk,” Eddie replies. “I practiced my disappointed look so much when I took those kids in, it would be a shame for me to waste it.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, relieved that while Eddie wants to have a serious talk with him, he isn’t so mad at Steve that he can’t joke. It’s embarrassing how much Steve wants Eddie to like him.

He puts on his glasses.

With a few blinks Steve gets used to the world, back in view sharply, Eddie coming into view with a soft smile. Steve had forgotten about the dimples and he blushes when he sees them. He blushes even more when Eddie says: “There you are, pretty boy.”

“Shut up,” he deflects. “Just do your disappointed face.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie grins, then takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and slacking his face. Once he opens his eyes he has indeed a very good disappointed look on his face and he says: “You’re being an idiot, Steve. Your friends care about you and they want to know when something is up. Not to mention that you will only be putting them in danger by not mentioning that your brain is rioting against you and more brain damage might put you down as a fighter for good.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the use of his name, which has become very unusual in Eddie’s mouth or the tone, but he lets the words hit him.

In the back of his mind, he has always known that his head trauma is a hurdle, something to take into account when planning their next fight, especially now that it got worse. When he thought there was no danger and when they were so far into it that it would waver morale, it was easier to convince himself that keeping quiet was better.

Now, however, he can see Eddie’s logic. If they have to prepare for another fight, the others need to know that Steve can become a liability, no matter how much it hurts that he can’t be useful. At least they have El and Hopper again.

His shoulders sag and he whispers: “You’re right.”

“I often am, sweetheart,” Eddie says kindly. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah, and you’d be the only one,” Steve scoffs sadly.

“What do you mean?” Eddie frowns, confusedly.

“I mean, what’s the use of keeping me around if I can’t help in a fight?” Steve asks, all the emotions he’s been bottling up about the Upside Down since ‘83 spilling out. “I could already hardly win a fight, now even less so. If I can’t be useful, I’m nothing and soon they’ll know how useless I am. Not to mention how mad they’re going to be when I kept it from them. When they find out I put them in danger.”

“Sweetheart…” Eddie starts a comfort, but trails off as Steve interrupts.

“No, you don’t get it, you already know how much of a wreck I am,” he says, then remembers the nightmares and panic attacks Eddie never had to witness. “Well, partly. But to them? I’ve always been the strong reliable one and I’m going to pull that rug out from under them and they’re going to see that I’m just the high school jerk, who was useful to take a beating and hit something. A thing I now just might forget to do. Or loose my weapon. Or glasses. Or some stupid shit like that…” He sighs. “And once they realize that, they’ll all leave.”

He’s quiet for a moment, the realizes where he is and quickly apologizes: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that all on you or make you feel like you had to stay. You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to.”

After that he looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes. Eddie, who looks like he’s been hit in the face after being told the worst news in his life.

Immediately worry creeps up in Steve’s chest and frantically he asks: “Are you okay, Eddie? Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

“Jesus, Stevie, is that really what you think?” Eddie breaths, sitting up to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve frowns in confusion, looking between Eddie’s hand and face, the weight comforting, though he doesn’t understand why Eddie wants to comfort him. He answers: “Uhm, yeah, it’s just a thing. I know I was an asshole and I can’t make up for that. It’s just a fact.”

“Fucking hell,” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he puts his hands on the side of Steve’s face and makes him look at him. He says: “I need you to listen to me, alright. Can you do that?”

Eddie’s warm hands are making it hard to concentrate and Steve can feel that it’s Eddie’s hands that are distracting, not his stupid brain making it difficult. But he nods anyway.

“Good,” Eddie nods. “Now, I might not have known you for long, because I can see that the Steve I saw in high school is nothing like what you’re actually like. And those kids don’t keep you around because you can hit stuff, alright? Yeah, you protect them and they know it, but you’re also just there for them. They adore you and you needing a bit of extra help is not going to change how much they love you. You have worth beyond being a punching bag. Do you think Robin just likes you for your fists? No. Or Dustin for that matter? I didn’t listen to the kid singing your praises for an entire year only for you to think he’d drop you like you were nothing. That’s just not happening. It just isn’t.”

Throughout Eddie’s speech, tears started pricking in Steve’s eyes and by the time he’s done, Steve is actually crying.

Eddie pulls him into a proper hug and Steve melts into it, clutching Eddie’s back as he cries. He cries until he can’t, then softly asks: “Why are you so nice to me?”

“Because you can’t seem to be nice to yourself and it’s a pity to see such a kind and pretty man go to waste on his own bad thoughts,” Eddie tells him.

“God, you gotta stop flirting before I start thinking I have a chance,” Steve mutters hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder, not yet realizing how he came out the closet and confessed his crush all in one fell sweep.

“You- you like me?” Eddie asks, his voice soft and hopeful, though Steve doesn’t notice that as he scrambles back, realizing what he had just said.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Fuck, I’m so stupid, blurting things out like that. I’m sorry. It’s okay if you hate me now. Shit. I- I’m truly sorry,” he rambles, panicking.

“No, no, no, Steve, doll, sweetheart, stop that,” Eddie soothes him, waiting until Steve can look at him, before he smiles: “Why would I be mad that my crush just told me I have a chance.”

“You-” Steve’s eyes grow wide, his mind only slowly comprehending. “Your crush? Wait, you like me back?”

“I thought I was pretty clear with all my flirting,” Eddie smirks.

“But that was- You were just joking, right?”

“Uhm, it kind of wasn’t,” Eddie confesses with a soft blush. “So, uhm, what do you say about me taking you on a proper date when I’m finally released?”

“I- I’d like that very much,” Steve says softly, blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. Then he turns to his nightstand, plucking a piece of paper and a pen from it. Steve watches in confusion as he scribbles something down, before handing it to Steve with a grin. “There you go, doll.”

It’s a note that reads: ‘I’m going to take you on the best date after this hospital visit! x Eddie <3’

“Can’t have you forgetting that I managed to score a date with the prettiest boy in town,” Eddie smiles softly at him, accommodating for a fear before it could come up in his brain.

He feels his face split in two at the gesture, pressing a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek, before hugging him tightly. He’ll treasure the note forever, he can already feel it.

After that the teasing and flirting only ramps up as Eddie delights in making Steve blush and he calls Robin when he gets home, twirling the telephone cord like he’s a gossiping high school girl. She thinks he plays a bit coy when he doesn’t replay it in detail, but he just can’t remember it all, the clearest parts are Eddie’s grin and the note in his hand.

(Later he confides in Eddie that he’s afraid he’s never going to have all the memories of them, if something happens. And Eddie whispers in his ear: “Then I will just have to repeat all the things that are great about you for the rest of me life.”)

He manages to convince Eddie to hold off on telling everyone until Eddie is out of the hospital at least. And in the end they decide on the second time gathering with everyone after Max is released from the hospital.

She looks as lively as she can be in her wheelchair. Steve is watching with a fond smile as El paints her nails, the two girls talking excitedly, while Lucas sits next to them, content to watch Max have fun, ready to wait on her every need. It’s cute how whipped the kid is.

Further away, Joyce and Hopper have been roped into a card game with Dustin, Will and Mike, by the looks of it, Will is wiping the floor with all of them.

Nancy is talking with Robin, the two giggling at Jonathan and Argyle, who are sober for a change, but that doesn’t appear to stop the insane conversations they have. Steve is happy Jonathan found a good friend. Rolling his eyes fondly as Eddie mixes himself into a pointless debate from his spot next to him.

He is feeling exhausted for no reason and his heart trips a bit, but he feels content to see everyone safe and sound. Happy to keep to the background and watch (even if everyone is a bit blurry without the glasses).

He’s shaken out of his drifting mind by Eddie dramatically exclaiming something, jostling Steve right as in the distance Will cheers at yet another victory, the other at the table groaning at loosing again.

His startle gets caught by El, who frowns at him, then asks: “Are you alright, Steve?”

Steve can’t see her face properly, but knows she must be concerned in her tone. He can also hear how more fall quiet and look at him at the question. He’s about to tell her that’s he’s okay when Eddie clears his throat and gives him a look. He gives a confused one back and Eddie turns the palm of his hand to his face.

On his hand is written: ‘Tell everyone about your head trauma,’ in Eddie’s handwriting. Steve feels a pit in his stomach at forgetting it, but also a flutter in his chest at Eddie’s thoughtfulness.

Everyone is now aware that’s something is going on and Joyce’s motherly voice kindly asks: “Is there something going on, dear?”

“Uhm, well,” Steve begins awkwardly. “There- there is something I’ve been meaning to mention to you all.”

They’re all quiet giving Steve their full attention and Steve blanks completely. His thoughts are not forming anything coherent to tell them and he can’t hold onto the details that are important. He can feel the anxiety grip him as the silence drags on.

Eddie, sweet, loving and his hero Eddie, jumps in and gently reminds him: “You wrote it down on the note, remember, sweetheart. It’s in your pocket.”

Relief floods through Steve’s body as he digs out the paper from his back pocket. Only for it to flush down with dread when he can’t see the words properly.

Again Eddie comes through, fishing Steve’s glasses out of his pocket and handing them to Steve, who smiles gratefully and thanks him as he takes them. He puts them on, focusing on the words as Eddie shushes confused noises.

“Take your time, darling,” he tells Steve, before falling quiet with the other.

“Uhm, as you know, I have been in a few fights over the last years,” Steve reads, hating how slow he is, how halting and unnatural it sounds. But he keeps going. “This has resulted in a bit of head trauma. The latest fight made it worse. It has become a problem and I thought I’d need to let you all know.”

He’s shaking a bit and takes a deep breath, not daring to look at them as he goes on. “Most of the symptoms are mild. However, my vision is permanently blurry, so I have glasses,” they already knew that, because he is wearing them, but he didn’t know that when he was writing it. “Reading and concentrating has also become harder.”

Again, he huffs out a breath, glad everyone is giving him the time to finish. “I get headaches sometimes. The lights and sounds can be bad on some days. And my memory isn’t so good anymore. I also get lost sometimes.”

“That’s about it,” he finishes clearing his throat, checking his paper again, before looking up, not sure what he is expecting.

For a second the whole room is silent, then it explodes. The noises are overwhelming and Eddie shuts it down when he notices. After that everyone is asking questions and Steve spends the rest of the evening explaining how long it has been going on and how he’s been coping.

The whole thing goes a lot better than Steve had hoped, especially when all the kids give him a hug, even if they call him a doofus for not telling them sooner.

It’s honestly amazing and it brings Steve near tears, especially as they all try to accommodate him after.

All the kids take to radioing around the time he would have to leave if he promised to pick him up from somewhere, none of them blasting music in his car to help against headaches. Nancy helps him make a system for his agenda that works for him, so he can keep track of it all. Robin loudly rambles, working as a walking sticky note as reminder (though the actual sticky notes Eddie leaves are still his favorite (he has them all in a box)). Hopper and Joyce offer him a quiet place to rest on bad days and take the kids when he can’t. And Jonathan- Jonathan surprises him most by giving him a polariod camera.

“To ensure you can keep all the important moments as they were,” he tells him. “Besides, it’s only repaying the favor.”

Steve hugs him tightly then. It’s insane how four years ago he never would have though he’d be hugging Jonathan about giving him a camera so that he can remember all the moments with his six adopted kids and his boyfriend, Eddie, and soulmate, Robin.

Life truly takes interesting turns.

When Eddie and Steve move in together, their house becomes covered in reminders, soft pillows to hide in from the lights and sounds, a boxing ball to let out frustration, and pictures detailing their life and everyone in it.

So, no, Steve is not okay. He most likely will never be fully okay, but with a family like his, he comes as close to okay as he can be and that is more than enough for him.

A/N:

Steve isn’t really in a healthy mindset and I do not condone his smoking and deprecating thoughts from time to time, but you don’t just break those habits.

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sortofanobsession · 11 months

Note

Roy/Jaime: Time loop where either is S2 when Roy's refusing to coach Jaime or S3 Roy and Jaime get into an appalling fight and are snide to each other all day until it ends with Jaime dying, Roy passing out, and waking up to it being the same day. Everything repeats with Jaime dying in multiple, often ridiculous ways with Roy desperately trying to keep him alive. The loop only breaks once Roy is honest with himself and his feelings for the little prick who's stolen his heart.

A/N: Figured I'd get one more in before the finale. Hope you all enjoy it.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Ao3 (slightly different, because of errors that were fixed differently at different times)

Word Count: 4k+

Paring: Roy x Jamie, really just them two in this. Mentions of others but they are really the only people in it. Except Ted. Ted does have dialog. Because he is Ted.

Content warnings: Death, grief, insanity, pain, suicide, mugging, stabbing, car accidents, head trauma, head injury, more death, suffering, angst, cheating, cussing/swearing/cursing, institutionalization, mental health, hospitals, crying, violence (Roy punches a wall)

Every day is the same until it isn't

Roy gets an odd feeling of deja vu as he sees Higgins in the window. It gets worse when the whole thing with Beard and his girlfriend happens again. Then the stuff with Welton’s mom happens again. And Roy can’t help but be on edge. When Jamie looks at him, asking if he had anything for him, it nearly sets him off. But he does what he did before and walks away. It’s not until Jamie is standing there repeating his insults back as faults that it fucking gets to him. He tells Jamie to quit fucking about and to fuck off. And Jamie does. He’s just about to leave when Keeley finds him. She’s been crying, and when he asks, she tells him Jamie was in an accident and didn’t make it. And it hits Roy like a fucking brick. He told the prick to fuck off, he did, and now he’s dead. And it fucking hurts. Because the prince of pricks Jamie had survived for so long. Jamie starts getting his shit together and asks Roy for help. Actually asks. Something the old Jamie would never have done. And he wonders what might have happened if he had done things differently. If he had fucking said yes. Roy ends up grabbing a bottle of whiskey, getting pissed and doesn’t remember the rest of the day.

He didn’t have as big a headache as he should have when he woke up. He looked at his phone and nearly through it at the wall. What the fuck was happening? Was this a cruel fucking joke? How was this possible? It should be Saturday. It should be fucking match day! Someone was taking the piss out of Roy, and he wasn’t having it. But his anger dimmed a bit when he made it to work, and it was like he was living the same day for a third time. And Surprisingly to even him, his anger left him the moment Jamie Tartt walked into the locker room. Roy didn’t know what the fuck was going on. He hoped everything that had happened the day before leading up to Jamie dying was a fucking nightmare and that this here wasn’t some sort of dream. And Roy usually wouldn’t consider himself a total fucking idiot, but this was all mental, so he did something stupid. He punched the wall. Everyone around him froze, and his fist hurt like hell.

“Something wrong, Roy?” Ted asks.

“This has to be a fucking joke,” Roy grumbles because it was that, or he was losing his mind.

“What is a joke?”

“That it’s fucking Friday again,” Roy says.

“Happens once a week,” Ted replies.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Me? Why would I be-”

“Oi! You!” Roy shouts at Will. “Fucking day, is it?”

“Friday,” Will says, then gives the date. Roy growls, and Will hurries back to work.

Roy looks back, and both Ted and Beard are staring at him. Roy has to leave. He needs to go. So he does, only stopping to grab an ice pack for his knuckles on the way. He comes back part of the way during training. No one says anything to him, though he can tell Ted wants to. It isn’t until Jamie confronts him in the hall, like he has the past two days, and Roy nearly loses it, does he stop. He just stares at Jamie. The first time he remembers doing this, he had pissed Jamie off, Ted got involved, and he told Jamie to be a prick but only sometimes. The second time, he told Jamie to fuck off, and then Jamie died.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jamie asks. It’s a different question, but it’s the same Jamie.

“Fuck if I know,” Roy grunts. And that was not the answer Jamie had clearly been expecting because of those fucking groomed eyebrows of his furrow, and he studied Roy.

“What?” Jamie looks a little more genuine as he asks. “I’m fucking serious,” Jamie says. “The fuck is going on with you? You punch a wall outta nowhere, vanish, and show up fucking late. Now…“ Jamie just gestures to Roy as he is. “You fucking high?”

“Fuck-” Roy almost tells him to fuck off, and he freezes because he can’t do that. Not after what he went through before. Fucking hell. Roy flexes his fingers and winces at the pain in his knuckles. “Don’t fucking do anything stupid when you leave.” And Jamie is a bit stunned.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Jamie says, clearly confused and getting defensive.

“Because you have a fucking match tomorrow, and you wanted my fucking opinion, then there you fucking go!” Roy snaps.

“Fucking fine, granddad,” Jamie retorts. Jamie is shocked when Roy doesn’t yell at him.

The next morning is the same. So he says he’s sick and tries to see if doing fuck all will end whatever is happening. Turns out that just makes it worse because somehow Tartt ends up with a head injury during training, and hours later, Roy’s sister calls him to tell him before anyone else can. And Roy drinks until he blacks out, and it all starts over again. It goes like that with Jamie dying in a number of ways, and it breaks Roy’s sanity down bit by bit every time. How can one fucking prick matter so much to him? Why can’t he just move on? Why does it fucking feel like his heart has been torn out of his chest when he thinks about how he’ll never see the prince of all pricks ever again. So he tries to do something about it. Sometimes he tells people, and they either think he is joking or insane. Dr. Sharon even checks him into the hospital psych ward once. His sister does too. He didn’t repeat that action the next time. And every time Jamie dies. Jamie dies in an accident. Jamie dies in a mugging. That one had pissed Roy off, who mugs someone as famous as Jamie Tartt in broad fucking daylight. That had ended with Jamie bleeding out on the pavement, surrounded by stunned strangers. That one would leave a mark on Roy’s soul. He is pretty sure. But not nearly as much of a mark as the one where Jamie’s dad fucking came out of nowhere and beat Jamie so badly with no one around to save him. Yeah, that one would live in Roy’s nightmares for the rest of his life. A life that he couldn’t even end. And he tried. The only good thing about it was that no one else would have to suffer knowing he'd tried to end it all. Just Roy. Roy would always know, but nothing changes.

Roy couldn’t take it. He even tried to help Jamie. Not waiting for Jamie to come to find him. He actually goes to Jamie. And Jamie is shocked when Roy hugs him. Everyone around them is too, but they move on when Roy glares at them. It was just a fucking nightmare of the same day, no matter what. Waiting, just waiting for shit to go wrong. He always wakes up, and it’s fucking Friday again. And Roy’s soul felt broken at this point. He’d had a few good days. Where he didn’t really try to do anything out of the normal, but he didn’t push Jamie away. Where he let Jamie come to him and agreed to help, but those days actually hurt worse because he would get to know Jamie and be more like friends. And then Jamie would die, and it hurt even more. It had gotten to the point Roy’d seen Jamie die so many times that just seeing him every morning made him want to cry or, worse, fucking hug the prick. And it was weird for more than just them, but Roy didn't care anymore.

So when Roy wakes up to face the same day he had officially lost count of repeating, he is out of ideas. He isn’t sure what to do, but he knows one thing, Roy can't take seeing Jamie die again. He can't. So this time, he rushes to change after training and hurries to catch Jamie. Not waiting for Jamie to come to find him. He actually goes to Jamie. And Jamie is shocked when Roy hugs him. Everyone around them is too, but they move on when Roy glares at them.

"You lose your marbles, old man?" Jamie asks but doesn't push him away. Jamie had never seen Roy look as terrible as he did during training. Roy kept watching Jamie. Watching his every move. And Roy was quieter than normal. Part of Jamie loved the attention. He’d have done almost anything to get Roy’s attention in the past. Usually did so by pissing him off. But this was unnerving. Because the way Roy looked at him wasn’t usual. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. No, Roy looked as lost and broken as Jamie often felt. Roy looked at Jamie like he was waiting for something. And that had tugged at something in Jamie’s chest he didn’t know was there. So instead of pushing away, Jamie actually hugs Roy tighter than he would in a normal end-of-match hug. When Roy doesn't say anything and just buried his face in Jamie's neck and lets out a shaky breath, Jamie really starts to get worried.

"Roy, mate, what's going on?" He asks, his tone now filled with genuine concern. "Come on, Kent, talk to me."

"You're not ugly, or stupid, or a prick. You're nothing like that," Roy manages to say.

"Thanks, I guess, but I meant more about this," Jamie says. “This can’t be about that.”

"If I told you,” Roy says, though it’s mumbled from where he’s pressed into Jamie. “You wouldn't believe me."

"Might not, but won't know if you don't say it," Jamie says. "Can't score if you don't shoot first."

"I've been living the same day over and over and over."

"Like that wedding movie with Andy Samberg in it," Jamie says. "Palm Spring."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. It's like that movie Groundhogs day," Roy says.

"What does that even mean?" Jamie looks confused.

"I don't know, some American thing with an animal predicting the weather or something, not the point."

"Okay, so it's the same day, every day," Jamie says.

"Yes," Roy nods.

"Okay, what changes? And what doesn't?"

"You. Somehow are both. You are always there, but how it ends…" Roy doesn’t know why this is so hard to do. He’d told other people so many times now, but never Jamie.

"Okay, what happens to me?" Jamie asks.

Roy doesn't answer. He just grips Jamie tighter. He is still amazed Jamie hadn't pushed him away.

"Roy?" Jamie prompts him again. "What happens to me?"

"You…die. No matter what I do, I lose you. Can't save you."

"Whoa, that's heavy," Jamie says. He lets Roy pull him closer and just rests his head on Roy's shoulder.

"Too fucking right," Roy says.

"How many times?"

"Too many. I stopped counting," Roy sighs.

"Fucking hell, no wonder you needed a hug."

"From you, had to be you," Roy insists.

"If I'm the one dying, makes sense."

"No, that's not-" Roy pulls back to grip his face. The only days that aren't terrible are the ones we get along. The ones where you're with me."

"You're my coach. I'm with you every day," Jamie points out. And Roy pulls back. He can sort of understand Jamie’s need to constantly be moving now. He feels like if he doesn’t keep moving, everything that is in him will bust. But Jamie doesn’t let him go far because he hasn’t actually let go of him. And Roy surprises himself by not minding. More than that, even he finds it comforting. Like the universe can’t take Jamie away from him if even Jamie won't let go. But Jamie had missed the point. So Roy says, "Not like that. I mean, where we actually are close. Like-"

"I know, Roy. I just hugged you for how long? I think I get your point," Jamie grins before gripping Roy's face.

"Cheeky prick," Roy huffs but smiles.

"Yet, you like me," Jamie states, studying Roy for a reaction.

And Roy just caves. Because he never gets to actually tell Jamie how much losing him hurts. So he does this time. "I do, fuck, I really do. I don't think I can lose you again. Don't think my heart can take it."

"Haven't died yet,” Jamie shrugs, “still early, though.”

"Don't even joke,” Roy growls. “I'm so fucking tired."

And Jamie can tell he is. "Alright then," Jamie says, finally putting distance between them. Pointedly ignoring all the odd looks from the people around them, some of them his confused teammates, he takes Roy by the wrist and tugs him toward the car park. Jamie huffs a laugh as they reach the pavement outside.

"What?" Roy asks.

Jamie looks back at the player’s entrance. "Really was Richmond til I died. Again and again. And again."

"Not funny," Roy says.

"Dark, but still a little bit funny," Jamie grins.

Roy growls. "Fucking isn't, Jamie."

"Fair enough, you the one livin' it, not me."

"I'm driving," Roy insists when they are near the cars.

"Fucked it on the road, did I?" Jamie asks.

"Not one I want to relive again," Roy grimaces. "Fucking brutal."

"Right, works for me," Jamie shrugs.

"You really are just going to go with this, like it isn't insane."

"Well, I know Roy fucking Kent isn't taking the piss with a hug like that. So yeah, Roy, and what's the worse that can happen if I play along? It makes you feel better? I get another cuddle from Roy Kent. No complaints here."

"You're serious?" Roy says.

"As serious as I was earlier.”

"Okay then," Roy seems to relax a bit.

Roy was just about to get in his car when Jamie asks, "What’s the coolest way I died?"

"What the fuck, Tartt?" Roy pulled back and stared at him.

"Come on, some of them had to be entertaining," Jamie says.

"Fuck no. I think the first time I actually saw it, I blacked out because how the fuck am I supposed to live in a world where you’re gone? Like I could live in a world where you genuinely hate me for the rest of my life, but not one where you're dead."

"You'd figure it out," Jamie says.

"No, I don't think I would." He goes around to stand in front of Jamie by the passenger side door to really get his point across. He grips one of Jamie's shoulders. "I know I wouldn't. And not just because every fucking time it happens, my fucking day starts over, and I have to live through it all over again. It's because I can't do it anymore. I can't. I'm so fucking tired. Losing you every goddamn day is more exhausting than anything I have ever done. I don't want to lose you. You mean too fucking much to me and-"

"Will you fucking quit it? You're breaking me heart," Jamie grips Roy's face. "Say the nicest things. Didn't know you cared that much."

"I fucking do, and it hurts," Roy says, leaning into Jamie's touch.

Jamie smirks. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?" He's only half joking because Roy fucking Kent is telling him he can't live without him. And it's like one of those movies Ted loves so much. And Jamie can't help it. He doesn't like seeing Roy suffer. Doesn't like seeing him so torn up.

"Fucking hell," Roy grunts. "Please do."

So Jamie does. He kisses Roy like Jamie's teenage self had always fantasized about when he was alone at night. Like he has wanted to, even when Roy hated his guts. The urge had never left Jamie. He just never thought Roy could feel anything like that for him. That Roy would want him, not after everything Jamie had done. But now Roy is holding on to him like he is his only lifeline. And from the sound of it, he might be. Fuck, this really was insane. Roy leans his forehead against Jamie's when they break for air. It's as if he really is terrified of letting Jamie go even the slightest. "I'm scared that when I close my eyes, I'm going to wake up, and it will all start over."

"Then you can just tell me again, and we can keep doing things differently until we sort it out. Two heads and all that, yeah?"

"I think I fucking love you," Roy breathes. And Jamie lights up like they just won the fucking World Cup for the national league, and it does things to Roy. It really does.

"Might fucking love you too, though it seems like you've had a lot more time to sort that out for it to be an 'I think'."

"You watch the love of your fucking life die over and over and-"

Jamie kisses him again and again. Until he is sure that Roy's knee probably hurts like hell from not moving. "You ever try keeping someone with you to see if the next morning actually happens?"

"No one meaningful because they weren't you."

"Oh yeah? Should I be jealous?" Jamie grins.

"Fuck. Off." He says, punctuating each word with a kiss.

"Mixed signals there, Coach. Might need to clear that up."

"Get in the fucking car," Roy growls.

"Sure thing, coach."

“Not even, Keeley?” Jamie asks once they are both in the g-wagon.

“Honestly, Keeley was usually too torn up over you dying to deal with my shit,” Roy admits.

“Did she cry?” Jamie asks, now very curious about how everyone reacted to his death.

“Fucking hell, Jamie,” Roy shakes his head as they get on the road. “I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re asking. This is you, after all.”

“Rude to say to the love of your life,” Jamie smirks. “But yeah, I’m dying to know.”

“Still not funny,” Roy growls.

“Sure, love, sure,” Jamie laughs.

“Fucking nightmare,” Roy grumbles, but he can’t help but smile because he shouldn’t be as happy as he is with Jamie using a simple pet name. A common one, but it still makes Roy feel lighter, happier.

“You didn’t answer,” Jamie says.

“Fucking-,” Roy huffs. “She cried, Dani cried, Ted cried, Colin, most of the team either cried or got pissed.”

“And you?” Jamie asks, the joking jovial tone now gone as he keeps glancing over at Roy.

“Which time?” Roy asks, glancing at Jamie before going back to watching the road.

“Any of ‘em, all of ‘em,” Jamie shrugs.

Roy grunts, and it's quiet for a moment. Quieter than Jamie usually can handle so, he starts to fiddle with the cuff on his sleeve. He stops when Roy reaches over and squeezes his hand, grounding them both with the gesture.

“First few times, I wasn’t there. Keeley would tell me, or I’d get a call from my sister while working A&E. They’d tell me, and I fucking drank until I blacked out, and then it would start over. Stayed in bed for a few days. That really freaked Keeley and Ted out. But even doing nothing, you still didn’t live. Then I tried to stop it, save you, and that, fuck, that was awful. Every fucking time. A few times…” Roy gets quiet. Did he really want to tell Jamie that a few times he just tried to end everything? The time loop. Himself. Everything.

“A few times what, Roy?” Jamie asks.

“A few times, the days were real short because I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Oh,” Jamie says, but it takes a moment for the true meaning to hit him. “Oooooh.” Jamie tightens his grip on Roy’s hand. “Fuck, that’s- Roy I-”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Roy says, squeezing back. “Because as fucking awful as it was, there was the unbelievably reassuring feeling that I’d wake up and you’d be back. You’d walk into that fucking locker room just like any day, and it’s like I’d remember how to breathe again.”

“That’s painfully sweet,” Jamie admits. “Fucking mental and depressing, but sweet.”

Roy agrees. The rest of the drive to Roy’s is quiet as Jamie thinks over everything he’d learned since training ended. Roy tries to figure out how to make this time different, how he can try and keep Jamie with him because at least then they’ll be together no matter how it ends.

Jamie can't believe how easily Roy just adjusted to having Jamie around in his personal space. He lets Jamie talk. He lets Jamie look around his home and ask questions. And Roy answers. Roy makes them both tea, then dinner. Then they just spend the night watching TV. Jamie asks stupid questions sometimes about different versions of the day. Roy tells him some of the better ones. The ones where Jamie got weirded out because Roy predicted every little thing someone would say. Including exact scores of different games and such. Jamie didn't bat an eye at any of the details, excited to hear it despite how insane it all sounded. Roy waves off the calls and texts from his confused and concerned friends and colleagues. Keeley offers to swing by, but when Roy says Jamie is there, she is stunned and silent. He assures her they are both fine and getting along. So she lets it be. And Roy is surprised that Jamie had indeed meant what he said before. That he planned on staying with Roy partially because he wanted to see what happened but mostly because he didn't want Roy to be alone. Didn't want him to suffer alone. And Roy had kissed him like it was only natural to want to. In a way that made Jamie feel like nothing else mattered. That Jamie could die in that moment, and it would be a pleasure. But he didn't. And despite both being absolutely knackered and Jamie knowing he was supposed to be resting up for a match, they both didn't want to actually sleep. But Roy had dragged a half-asleep Jamie into his bed.

"Don't want ta," Jamie says, fighting a yawn as Roy nudges Jamie here and there until he lays down.

"I know, but you're going to," Roy insists. His voice was quiet, almost like he would use when tucking Phoebe in. And it was a lot like that now, Roy thinks. Not because Jamie was a child or because he needed to be looked after. No, but it was someone Roy cared for. Someone Roy wanted to look after. Someone Roy loved.

“I know, but-” Jamie starts, but Roy stops him.

“Believe me, I know,” Roy says as he gets in his bed beside Jamie. “I’m scared shitless that I’m going to wake up and have to do it all over again, but for once, I think I could actually handle it.”

“Yeah?” Jamie yawns, which makes Roy yawn, which makes Jamie grin.

“Yeah, because you were right earlier. That I’d just tell you again, and we’d keep trying to figure it out until we do.”

“Together,” Jamie says as he snuggles in closer to Roy.

“Exactly,” Roy smiles and pulls Jamie in tight until Jamie’s head is tucked into his shoulder. Jamie was out like a light in no time. Roy watched Jamie sleep and held him close, truly hoping that this nightmare would be over and they might actually get to move on with their lives. Hopeful because Jamie was alive. And that was all Roy really needed. Sure, he liked the idea of spending more nights like this. But if by some chance Saturday morning actually comes. And in that morning, Jamie realizes how insane the past day was and wants nothing to do with Roy. Well, Roy could live with that because Jamie would still be alive. And Roy had meant it when he said he just couldn’t live in a world without Jamie Tartt in it. Not anymore. But fuck does he want to keep falling asleep with Jamie in his bed. In his arms. And that would have sounded insane to him not long ago, but he wasn’t about to deny it now. Roy was lost on Jamie Tartt. And he’d spend the rest of his life proving it to Jamie if he’d let him. On that thought, Roy manages to drift off and actually sleep. No blacking out drunk. No passing away. Just sleep.

Roy genuinely cries when he wakes up the next morning, and Jamie is still there. Jamie’s arm across Roy’s torso and his grown-out hair a mess from sleep. It really is the next morning. He can’t believe it’s Saturday. Jamie wakes up confused and worried because he has only ever seen Roy fucking Kent cry once, but before Jamie can even think about asking, Roy kisses him. And fuck, neither of them has brushed their teeth, but you couldn't pay Jamie to actually care. He doesn't care because Roy Kent is warm and kissing him as if he needs him more than air. Jamie hasn’t ever had this level of happiness first thing in the morning, or ever really. Jamie ends up pinned to the mattress and has absolutely no complaints as Roy takes him apart. It's not until Roy has heard his name a few times in the most wanton and indecent of ways possible that Jamie gets a good look at Roy's face. And it's fucking hot. Love drunk and fucking happy.

"I take it this is not how your usual morning starts," Jamie says when he can finally form coherent sentences.

"Fuck no," Roy smiles, and Jamie's chest warms at the sight because Roy is looking at him like he is his whole world. "But it's not a bad idea."

"Yeah?"

"Unless you don't agree?"

"Would be fucking mental to turn down the offer of waking up every morning to Roy fucking Kent. You think I kept your poster in my room for laughs?"

"Fucking hell," Roy grunts.

“You know what this means, right?”

“That you have a fucking match today?” Roy asks.

“That too,” Jamie admits. “One of us is going to have to tell Keeley.”

Roy grunts.

“I might be a selfish prick,” Jamie says. “But I’m not letting you cheat on her.”

“Kind of late for that,” Roy groans. He didn’t actually want to hurt Keeley. He cared about her. She made him happy, but he genuinely could not live without Jamie. Not if Jamie is offering to stay.

“You know what I mean,” Jamie shoves at Roy’s shoulder. “It’s not fair to her. She deserves better.”

“You just don’t want her to hate you,” Roy begrudgingly moves to get up because they are already running later than Roy usually likes for a match day. And he can’t let his shit be the reason Jamie isn’t prepared to face the Hotspurs.

“Well, yeah,” Jamie admits. “But I don’t want to be the reason she hurts again.”

Roy knows Jamie is being serious. He knows Jamie hated how he’d hurt Keeley in the past. It had infuriated Roy too. So he gets it. Neither of them wanted to hurt Keeley, but they couldn’t exactly feel bad about finally being honest with themselves. “I’ll tell her,” Roy says.

“Yeah?” Jamie looks up at him from where he is half propped up on his elbow. How the fuck could Roy possibly say no to Jamie fucking Tartt, thoroughly fucked, and looking up at him through his lashes.

“Yes, but get your arse moving. I’d rather cut my fucking foot off than have to explain why we’re both fucking late for a match.”

“Yes, coach,” Jamie laughs as he gets up. “Save a bit of time not showering alone.” Jamie winks.

Roy growls. He ends up letting Jamie cajole him into the shower with him. Jamie, being Jamie, the shower takes long enough that Roy ends up rushing everything, and they barely make it on time, but they do.

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