Chi-Town Red

by Smol_Fatale

Summary:

When everyone decides to leave Hawkins for the summer after the events of Vecna, leaving Max, Eddie, and Steve in the godforsaken town, Max decides they deserve a vacation too.

Luckily, her new favorite movie has just hit theaters, and she convinces the two men that they should live it up in the city of her idol, Ferris Bueller.

In Chicago, the trio learn new things about themselves and each other, which results in them becoming closer as a family.

OR...sometimes family is just a 15-year-old, her adopted brother, and his newfound boyfriend.

Notes:

I said it before, and I'll say it again, Eddie and Max deserved better, so I gave them better.

Please enjoy their week in Chicago, where they enjoy life with their favorite himbo. We all agree that Dustin is their son, but Max also needs some love from these dorks!

Also, this is my first time writing for Stranger Things, but Eddie and Steve had me in a chokehold, so here you go!

Chapter 1: Holiday

The summer after Vecna was defeated, it seemed everyone believed the best coping mechanism was simply getting away from Hawkins. 

 

The California crew (including Mike) went back to reconfigure their lives with the addition of a living and breathing Hopper (who wasn’t considered dead over there). Dustin promptly flew over to Suzie once summer rolled around. Even the Sinclairs took a family vacation to Virginia (not without Lucas squeezing the ever-loving soul out of Max).

 

Robin and Nancy decided to go on a little girl’s trip out east to Boston (or was it Stanford?). Steve didn’t really remember, but he was happy that the two were now close friends who would hopefully become even closer once the trip was over. If he allowed himself to be honest for just a second, he would admit that he was not jealous of Robin spending time with Nancy but of Nancy spending time with Robin. He missed his best friend but was also happily rooting for her and her crush (even if said crush was his ex-girlfriend).

 

So this meant that Steve, Eddie, and Max were the lucky souls staying in Hawkins for the foreseeable future. The trio hung out every day. Eddie temporarily filled Robin’s position at Family Video and exclusively worked with Steve, annoying him every chance he got. Max came in at the beginning of each shift and stayed the entire time, also annoying Steve every chance she got.

 

When they weren’t working, they went to various places: the movies, a carnival, the pool, a museum, an aquarium, etc. They also had many sleepovers, sometimes at Eddie’s but mostly at Steve’s. Both men agreed to never leave Max alone for long, and out of all his children, it was no surprise that Steve worried about her the most.

 

Vecna left everyone scarred, but Max was the worst off out of the whole gang. 

 

After Vecna, she became heavily light sensitive. She wasn’t completely blind but had spotty vision in her left eye. She described it as a burned photo with missing corners and holes in the middle. Her right eye was forced to work twice as hard, which caused migraines until she was fitted with a pair of glasses (which she hated at first until El and Lucas agreed that they looked “cool as fuck”). 

 

Though sometimes, the glasses didn’t work, and her vision would disappear for seconds or hours. It absolutely scared her the first time it happened, but now she was used to it for better or worse. She also has a foldable walking cane for these occurrences. Everyone tried to tell her that her vision would clear up one day, but she knew it was the opposite. First, she would become completely blind in her left eye and then the right. Whatever they did to reverse her blindness wasn’t a permanent solution. She wasn’t as scared as she should’ve been and sought to cherish all that she could see before that time came. She didn’t want to worry the others, so she wouldn’t tell them until she was positive her vision was gone.

 

Max couldn’t raise her left arm above her head but could still bend it at the elbow. Her wrist worked fine, but she was still making progress on her fingers. Her fingers could part, but they couldn’t bend, which saddened her immensely when she realized she couldn’t flip anyone off. (Fuck holding a pencil, that was now her main goal.) She couldn’t grab anything, and anything placed in her palm could only be held by her thumb. Her right leg was healed for the most part, but she needed a brace and walked with a limp. 

 

Other than that, Max was the same loveable, smart-mouthed badass who let nothing stop her, which means Steve wasn’t totally surprised when she appeared at his door at ten o’clock in the morning on a Sunday with Eddie in tow, declaring:

 

“Do you want to go on a trip? I was thinking Chicago.”

 

Steve barely opened the door before she pushed her way in and settled on the couch. He then looked to Eddie for an explanation. The man only shrugged before stepping inside as well. He sat on the arm of the couch, blocking Max’s view of Steve, who went to the kitchen. (He knew his two gremlins did not eat breakfast, and it was confirmed when Max shouted “Cocoa Puffs!” from over Eddie’s shoulder.) 

 

“So why Chicago?” Steve asked once everybody had a bowl of cereal in their hands. 

 

“Ferris. Bueller’s. Day. Off.” Max punctuated each word with such finality that Steve couldn’t dare argue. Eddie knew it as he eyed the stunned man with a smirk.

 

Honestly, Steve should’ve seen this coming. The number of times she made the two watch the movie was ridiculous, so much so that Steve was tempted to record the film to save money. But it made sense why Max fixated on him. Ferris was a kid who refused to conform to the offerings of his middle-class status and instead enjoyed his life to the fullest. He was open, intelligent, kind, and carefree. But, most importantly, he had fun, and Steve knew just how important having fun was to someone who experienced the worst realities of life.

 

Instead of arguing about the location (Chicago was only four hours away, so it wasn’t far at all.), he asked, “So when do you wanna go, kiddo?”

 

“Today,” she smiled wide and batted her eyelashes.

 

It took everything within Steve not to spit out his cereal. Eddie must’ve seen how his eyes bugged out because he burst out laughing once she said the word. Steve looked at the other incredulously as he was wiping tears from his eyes. 

 

“C’mon, Harrington! Are you really going to deny your darling daughter,” Eddie’s smirk was blinding. Steve scoffed in response. “Most hotels have check-in at like four, and Chicago’s only four hours away. So what’s stopping us from spending a week away from this hellhole?” Eddie sauntered over to him, slinging an arm over his shoulder in the process.

 

Steve huffed before glancing between Eddie and Max. Dealing with one of their “puppy eyes” was already hard enough on a good day, but both? That was downright heinous. Steve gently slid Eddie’s arm off him with a sigh before heading to his parent's bedroom. Slight rummaging could be heard before he reappeared with a black card in his hands. At that, his two gremlins shouted in delight and hugged each other. Steve was almost definitely going to die for this, but what his father (hopefully) doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, their laughter was undoubtedly better than any kind of wrath his father could unleash on him.

 

About two hours later, with some heavy convincing from everyone...

 

(“Tell me…have you ever heard the name, Wilford Harrington?”

 

“Keith, if you don’t give us the week off, I will have to call Robin, and would you really want to disturb her while she’s on vacation?”

 

“Mom…have you ever been to a spa?”),

 

...they were ready to head for Chicago. In the car, Max was seated in the middle with a backpack of snacks beside her. Eddie sat shotgun, and, of course, Steve was driving. The two agreed that Steve would drive them there and Eddie would drive back. Before they could even argue over the music, Max reached over the console and slid in a cassette. Suddenly, Madonna’s Holiday was blasting from the speakers. 

 

“Oh? You were planning this, huh?” Eddie swiveled to face her with mock ire.

 

“Maybe,” she rolled her eyes with a smirk causing Steve to chuckle as he headed north.

 

---

 

The ride to Chicago wasn’t too bad, though they encountered traffic the closer they got to the city. Luckily, they made it in time for check-in, which was at four like Eddie guessed. The room they got was excellent for such short notice. It was on the seventh floor and had two queen-sized beds with a balcony. Eddie and Steve agreed that Max would get a bed to herself while they shared the other, which was where Steve was currently splayed out, face down, tired from the drive. 

 

“Everyone knows that the first day is for rest and relaxation,” he mumbled into the pillows.

 

“But we’re in Chicago !” Max exclaimed, flopping over his back, making Eddie chuckle as he sidled next to Steve and placed her legs over his. Steve was secretly pleased to have his two favorite people on/next to him.*

 

(*He would like to state for the record that Robin and Dustin are his other two favorite people as they would kill him if he didn’t do so.)

 

“Leave him alone, Red. You’re mama’s tired from the long drive,” Eddie patted her ankles, “But we also can’t stay cooped up in here the entire night,” he used his other hand to brush Steve’s hair from his face. Honestly, the man was an angel with soft skin, warm eyes, and moles that dotted his face like stars. Steve's eyes unfocused as he became lost in thought before snapping into focus and gazing at Eddie. The man jumped minutely, which was only felt by Max. He didn’t know what he would do if she weren’t there.

 

“Fine, but you’re figuring it out,” Steve’s pointed tone brought him back, and he nodded with a growing smile as he switched between him and the girl entrusted to them. Tonight was going to be fun.

 

---

 

After a peaceful two-hour nap that was honestly way too generous of the long-haired duo, Steve was rudely woken up for his first night in Chicago.

 

“Steven Jedidiah Harrington, time to wake up!” Eddie slammed a pillow across his face with no remorse.

 

“The fuck??? That’s not even my middle name,” the other rasped, nearly falling off his bed.

 

“Oh? So sorry…Ezekiel, but it’s time to go,” Max aggressively patted his back like a child waking their parents up on Christmas.

 

“I’m not even Christian,” Steve rolled out of bed with a soft thump and shuffled to the bathroom.

 

A half-hour later, sponsored by Wham! and Farrah Fawcett, Steve was ready for whatever his gremlins prepared. This “whatever” turned out to be a blues bar in the heart of downtown Chicago. It was pretty fitting once Steve discovered its name was Blues King . (Hardy Har, King Steve, he gets the joke, he promises.) 

 

Inside, the trio found a booth and ordered two beers and a Shirley Temple. Steve looked around the bar and admired the various signed autographs of Blues musicians throughout the years.

 

“Blues?” Steve inclined his head, eyeing the signed photo of Muddy Waters above them.

 

“Steve! Stevie, baby! One cannot enjoy the music of the present without educating themselves on the music of the past. None of the beautifully epic metal guitar solos would be possible without the pioneering likes of one Muddy Waters , the creator of the Chicago Blues,” Eddie clutched his non-existent pearls and threw his head back aghast before educating Steve in the evolution of American music.

 

Steve rolled his eyes in mock pretentiousness, but they signaled for Eddie to continue his spiel on the pipeline of blues to rock. Max didn’t have to look underneath the table to know they were playing footsie. She was secretly “over-the-moon” to have this life-changing trip in Chicago with two of her closest family members. She was also happy that they were comfortable enough around her to flirt (no matter how sappy and mushy it could be at times). 

 

“We called a theater and found a 9:00 am showing of Ferris Bueller tomorrow,” she redirected the conversation to her before the lovebirds made her puke her unordered food.

 

“We have to watch Ferris Bueller in Chicago too??” Steve looked at her in confused surprise before lying down on the table. He thought he saw the last of the (admittedly great) movie in Indiana.

 

“Red is right. It only makes sense to watch the man in his hometown,” Eddie blew Max’s straw wrapper into Steve’s hair. His glare peeked from behind his elbow.

 

“Ugh! Fine! We can watch Ferris Bueller again tomorrow,” Steve ignored the wrapper and ruffled Max’s hair. She batted his hand away but subtly preened under the attention of both her brothers. 

 

“And then we can do everything he did in the movie?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“And then we can do everything he did in the movie,” Eddie’s smile assured her that he would gift her the moon if she asked.

 

She only nodded as the waitress came to take their orders. Live music streamed from the stage before them, with it another argument about the inherent greatness of rock music. This didn’t deter Max in the slightest as she settled back in her seat and mentally planned out their week in the windy city.

Chapter 2: Shake It Up Baby

Steve wasn’t particularly eager to watch Ferris Bueller for the billionth time at nine in the morning, but Max’s bright smile quickly deterred any irritation he had. However, he did take a second to mourn the loss of warmth from Eddie as the other got ready for the movie. 

 

Even after all this time, Steve couldn’t believe that Eddie was real and his. He knew that the Upside Down had a way of bringing people together (Hell, that’s how he found his best friend and endearingly annoying little brother.), but he never thought he would find love in the alternate dimension. Albeit such love was declared after carrying Eddie’s lifeless body out of literal hell and watching over him (and Max) for weeks before he woke up. 

 

He took note of their matching scars as a pang of sadness shot through his body. Steve was eternally grateful for Eddie and his love of Dustin (which he is not jealous of…anymore). Still, even more so, he wished that Eddie didn’t have to experience the horrors of the alternate reality. (Though this would mean that they may have never met, and Steve didn’t know if that was better or worse.)

 

“Whatcha dreaming about, big guy?” Eddie whispered in his ear, shocking him out of his daze. Then, with his senses returning, Steve was acutely aware of Eddie’s hair tickling his chin and the shower running in the background.

 

“You,” Steve responded, sitting up to hug Eddie around his middle. His face was pressed into his stomach, where the demobat scars were. Steve squeezed harder and willed the tears to stop forming, and Eddie gently ran his fingers through his bedhead. 

 

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here, and I will stay here for as long as you’ll have me,” Eddie’s fingers trailed softly over the shell of his ears before moving to the nape of his neck and down his back. Steve was entirely encompassed by Eddie. He was suffocated by his scent, his presence, and even his fucking aura, and Steve was content in drowning in it all. He took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling all that Eddie was before separating from him with arms hesitant to let go. 

 

“Now, as much as I love cuddling the adorable puppy that you are, there is a fiery redhead that has her sights set on one man and one man only, who is, as you know, neither of us,” Eddie took two fingers to lift his chin and place a kiss on his forehead. 

 

Steve had no time to bask in the comfort of his boyfriend as said redhead exited the shower declaring, “He’s right,” with a pointed look.

 

Steve looked between the two and sighed before finally, finally getting up to prepare for the godforsaken movie (again).

 

---

 

An hour and a half later, with the added bonus of having Shake It Up Baby becoming stuck in his head for the nth time this month, Steve was barreling towards Glenbrook North High outside the city where the famous ‘Sloane pick-up scene’ was filmed. 

 

Eddy dropped off Steve and Max by the steps of the thankfully empty high school before driving around to reenact the scene. Max was Principal Rooney, Steve was Sloane, and of course, Eddie was Ferris. As they waited, Max slotted her hand into Steve’s, and he gave a short, tight squeeze in response, knowing she couldn’t do the same.

 

“I’m really, really glad you’re doing all this stuff with me,” she slowly swung their arms, not looking at Steve.

 

“I’m really, really glad you’re here to do all this stuff with,” he mirrored her and lightly knocked their shoulders together. 

 

Just then, Eddie pulled up to the school and popped out of the BMW. Though he didn't have a trench coat like Ferris, he was all smiles as he slotted his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. (Steve still couldn’t comprehend how Eddie wore the damned thing in such heat, but he wasn’t complaining.)

 

“Looks like your ride's here,” Max winked playfully while Eddie shouted, “Oh, Steve darling! Come along now.”

 

Steve instantly clocked how Eddie changed the line, but he was preoccupied with willing his blush away that crept up from the pet name. Steve all but ran down the stairs and stopped right in front of Eddie, giving a shy smile and a soft “Hi,” to the man before him. (God, he was pretty.) Steve could never tell who was taller between them, but the way Eddie looked at him always made him feel as though he was on top of the world.

 

“Hi, darling, you gotta kiss for daddy?” Eddie’s voice deepened as he whispered the words, and it took everything within Steve not to jump him then and there.

 

“Always,” he punctuated with a kiss that had Eddie spinning him around and pinning him against the car.

 

If he strained his ears, he could hear Max audibly gag at her two brothers kissing with no restraint before her. Finally, after what felt like hours (but was seconds at most), Eddie broke the kiss and waved at Max to join them.

 

“C’mon, Red, we got a lunch reservation!”

 

---

 

It was significantly easier for them to get a table at Chez Quis than Ferris, as all Steve had to do was throw his last name around. However, the vibes of the restaurant completely irked the trio. Eddie despised conformity and everything “fancy” (except Steve, he could never hate Steve). Max felt wholly out of place with the judgemental stares from her glasses to her knee brace. And Steve was about five seconds away from an anxiety attack from the flashbacks of all the “business meetings” he was forced to go to with his parents. (Why they could never call it a family dinner was beyond him.)

 

Mercifully, Eddie was the one to break the tension as he noted how the menu was in a foreign language.

 

“Is this shit in French?” he made no effort to be courteous to the people around him.

 

“I took Spanish as my foreign language,” Max piped up, more comfortable since Eddie broke the ice.

 

“Even if I did learn French, I don’t understand this shit at all,” Steve added, which earned him curious glances from the duo. The Steve they knew now only spoke English, but what about child Steve? Before they could become lost in their curiosity (and apparently telekinesis as the two were conversing silently), Steve suggested, “How about a Chicago dog?”

 

 

After a ten-minute walk and thirty-minute ride on the L (the trio was secretly excited to be riding a train for the first time), they stumbled across Byron’s Hot Dogs (which was apparently the best hot dogs in the city, if the conductor they met was anything to count on).

 

Inside, Max confidently ordered three Chicago Dogs, and they all watched as 100% beef hot dogs were piled high with onions, hot peppers, relish, celery salt, tomatoes, and mustard. Not ketchup, never ketchup on a Chicago Dog. Steve found this out when the chef threatened to dice him like the tomatoes for asking. Three baskets of hot dogs sided with fries and coke were placed before them after Steve retrieved their order.

 

“Woah.” “Gnarly.” 

 

Eddie and Max beamed as they stared at the food.

 

“The Californian in you is slipping out,” Eddie poked her cheek, giggling as she batted him away. 

 

“Shut up,” she playfully shoved him, ignoring how her cheeks slowly matched her hair.

 

Steve noticed over the past couple of months how Max was slowly picking up on his and Eddie’s mannerisms. It warmed his heart how he saw Max and Eddie simultaneously inhale the smell of the food before opening wide and moaning at the first bite. It was cute when he first noticed Eddie doing this. Now, it was positively adorable to see that Max subconsciously mirrored him. She was indeed his daughter.

 

Steve was snapped out of his daze when Eddie kicked him softly under the table. He eyed Steve’s untouched tray and then nodded towards Steve, encouraging him to eat. Steve rolled his eyes as he did so and couldn’t stave off the moan that escaped his mouth. Chicago truly did have the best hot dogs in the world.

 

---

 

With bellies full and spirits high, Max promptly got the group lost while traveling to the Art Institute of Chicago. Almost an hour later, filled with light-hearted arguments with her mom, she eventually led her brothers/parents to the immaculately opposing building. If she could, she would’ve run up the steps and leaped into the building, but she took her time not to injure herself further. She all but dragged Steve to the ticket counter, and once the tickets were secured, she contemplated rushing straight towards the famous dotted painting of the movie. Instead, she decided to take her time meandering through the institution since she didn’t know if she'd ever return. The group decided to forgo a tour guide, choosing to stop at any painting they wanted. However, they did leave Max in charge, and this was her day.

 

Max walked around the museum with such childlike wide-eyed wonder that Eddie couldn’t help but smile. He loved seeing her like this. Not as a young woman who survived the absolute worst life could throw at her but as a child who just wanted to stop and stare at pretty pictures with pretty scenes and people. Honestly, Eddie could care less about all the artwork that lined the wall. They were impressive. Yes. But they couldn’t compete with the two people before him. Every morning he woke up next to a Greek god, and every day was spent in the presence of his feisty red-headed warrior. These pictures meant nothing to him when he was surrounded by priceless masterpieces day in and day out.

 

It took a moment for Eddie to realize that they had stopped in an empty gallery. To his right were Van Gogh’s sunflowers, and Monet’s water lilies to his left. His two favorite people stood on either side of him, and he took a step back to watch art admire art. 

 

“It’s so peaceful, y’know? Do you ever think that it’s all fleeting? That one day, you’ll wake up, and you’ll have to fight for your life again,” Steve whispered low yet loud enough for the other two to hear. This was a constant fear they all had though they never like to voice it. Is it ever truly over? Eddie knew this was harder for Steve because he’s been there since the beginning, battling the Upside Down since day one, and Eddie can’t even begin to comprehend how much of Steve was lost to the alternate dimension. Before Eddie could comfort his lover, Steve switched gears and spoke again.

 

“Y’know…um…the Dutch had this style of mockery. Of like mocking the seriousness of other painters and shit. Like, they would draw people laughing and gambling and making sex jokes and just having fun. And…and I know you’d be perfect in those paintings. Just mercilessly being the ‘freak’ you are. Carefree in how you interact with the world. All around blinding and amazing too,” Steve stared into Eddie’s soul as he spoke, and Eddie was livid. 

 

He wasn’t angry per se (though he wasn’t too fond of how Steve changed the subject before he could assure him). Instead, he was ecstatic but extremely confused because had Steve looked in a mirror at all?! He was the one that deserved to be carefree! To be drawn with a smile that blinded the goddamn sun! With eyes that crinkled like twin crescent moons! Steve was the god living amongst mortals like Eddie, yet he never seemed to get the memo! Eddie saw how Steve looked at him like he brought an island to the surface just for him. He wanted to kiss all his insecurities away. (Don’t think he didn’t notice how Steve excluded himself from the imaginary painting.) He wanted to make it known that Steve deserved the peace he so desperately craved as well as the joy he very much wanted to experience in his everyday life.

 

Instead, Eddie slid closer to Steve, linked their pinkies together, and whispered, “Only if you’re there, and Red, and Dustin, and all the other brats we’re co-parenting. Hell, I guess Robin and the other monster killers can join us too.”

 

The broken, wet laugh that escaped Steve’s throat was angelic to Eddie. He used his other hand to wipe away the few tears that escaped Steve’s eyes. No words had to be exchanged to know that Steve agreed with him (though the logistics of commissioning a portrait was beyond him). Max grabbed his hand as he pulled away from Steve’s face and Eddie smiled, holding hands with his favorite people as he was led to the next gallery. 

 

 

Over the next couple of hours, the trio toured the institute on their own accord. Eventually, they made it to the dotted painting that peered into Cameron’s soul in the movie. (And yes, they stood in the same positions as the leads and stared back at the picture.) Since this was the sole reason for their trip, the group decided they were done with the museum. As they made their way to the exit, Max was entranced by a painting of a red-headed girl. She was gorgeous as she lay in the grass with one hand behind her head and the other holding a flower. She didn’t exactly smile at the viewer, but her blue eyes foretold stories of wonder and sadness.

 

“She’s pretty,” Max whispered, desiring to reach out and touch her, wanting to become one with the painting. 

 

Eddie saw, and he knew the turmoil raging within her. How she was struggling to define herself, her perceptions, and her place in the world. Being thoroughly fucked by the Upside Down wasn’t helping either. But, though Eddie knew, he wouldn’t push her into talking about things she didn’t want to talk about. (God knows how awful it was being a teenager and knowing you're different from others but not knowing why.) So instead, he took her outstretched hand, cradled it in his larger one, and whispered, “You’re prettier.” He hoped this conveyed the epic of love and admiration he had for the young kid. And when she peered up at him with wide pale eyes, and when Steve smiled at him with concrete motherly approval, Eddie knew that he did something right.

 

“So where do you want to go next, kiddo? Sorry, but I don’t think any parades are happening today,” Steve asked once they stepped into the daylight again.

 

Max pondered the question but couldn’t think of anything. Luckily for her, Eddie was always (mostly) prepared with backups. 

 

“Y’know…I think I saw a skate shop on the way to the museum.” He knew that Steve disapproved of this, given the state of Max, but the way her whole body zinged at the prospect of skating had Eddie believing he could fight God for the redhead before him, Steve be damned.

 

“No. No. No! Absolutely not Munson,” Steve stared at him, steadfastly refusing to look at the “puppy eyes” Max turned on him.

 

“Oh, I love your mommy voice Harrington,” Eddie practically purred, stunning Steve for a moment that allowed the other to take his hand and head back to the L with Max in tow.

 

---

 

After getting lost on the train yet again, Eddie rented two skateboards and a pair of rollerblades from a skate shop (plus all of the protection gear for Max) before heading for Grant Park.

 

Max was delighted, and Steve was worse than a mother hen. Eventually, to shut him up, she proposed a bet.

 

“If I clear these stairs without eating shit, you give me $5. If I tumble like a week, you can be my own personal set of training wheels.”

 

Steve couldn’t understand how he'd be training wheels if Max were on a skateboard, but he accepted the bet (ignoring Eddie’s jeering), knowing he couldn’t coddle the girl forever. With wringing hands and worrying lips, Steve glanced at the dozen or so steps Max was destined to clear. 

 

Before he had a chance to say a prayer to a deity he did not believe in, Max wooshed past him and soared through the sky. He had to grip onto Eddie to not lose his shit and break Max out of her concentration with his screaming. Luckily (and expectedly), Max landed on her skateboard and made a small loop before stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Operating on autopilot after his soul left his body, Steve descended and placed $5 on Max's outstretched palm. Eddie was right behind him, giving her a Vulcan salute since she couldn’t return any other hand gesture. 

 

With Steve proven wrong, as usual, he conceded to letting Max skate on her own as long as she was in sight of him or Eddie. Eddie took off with his skateboard to skate alongside the redhead. Steve put on his skates but opted to watch the father-daughter duo (Did he really refer to them as that?) skate hand in hand. Their smiles were broad, and their laughs were loud; it was everything Steve ever wanted. Eddie came back a little later to switch places with Steve, and he realized Max didn’t care if she was seen as a baby for holding hands with her older brothers. She was having fun, and that was most important, right?

 

Once they all retreated to the steps they started at, Max stole Steve’s skates and started creating figure eights on the path. The skates were way too big for her, but she seemed comfortable enough as she drew patterns in the ground with her legs. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying to teach Steve how to use a skateboard.

 

Steve held Eddie’s hands tightly as he stood on the skateboard. His mind recalled briefly "bent knees" and a "lower center of gravity," but he was still unsteady like a newborn deer. He wobbled back and forth, and the board flew out from under him every time he pushed off. 

 

“Sorry to say, sweetheart, but you’re terrible at this,” Eddie held in his laughter, choosing to relish the feeling of his lover's hands in his. They were softer than his would ever be with a larger palm and shorter fingers. 

 

Steve nodded with a tight-lipped smile, electing to focus on the task of standing correctly on the board. Unfortunately, as he shakily straightened himself out, he leaned too far to the right and started to fall in slow motion. Luckily, Eddie was there to catch him before he hit the ground (miraculously, the skateboard was still underneath his feet). 

 

After Eddie straightened Steve out for the nth time, he directed his lover’s arms around his neck while he held Steve’s waist.

 

“Hi,” they whispered to each other, breaths mingling.

 

Then, Steve pressed closer to Eddie, slotting his head in the juncture between his chin and shoulder. 

 

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he echoed Max's earlier sentiments and kissed a pulse point. Eddie was gone. It took all his energy to remain upright and not ravish Steve then and there.

 

“Hey, dingus and dorkus, what’s for dinner?” Max broke them out of their little bubble as she walked toward them. She took the rollerblades off and made grabby hands at Steve to get her skateboard back. He had no qualms about returning the deathtrap to the expert. 

 

Looking up, he saw blue slowly turn to orange, pink, and purple. Max was right. It was dinner time. 

 

“There was a halal truck a couple of blocks down,” Steve thought back to their little journey to the skate park.

 

“Like falafel?” Max tilted her head.

 

“Sure. Would you like falafel, sweetheart?” Steve used Eddie’s pet name against him.

 

“I would love falafel, darling.” Eddie took it in stride and sent a wink to Steve, effectively flustering him. (Eddie: 1, Steve: 0)

 

With confirmation from her brothers, Max took off on her skateboard in the direction Steve pointed to. Eddie was right behind her, and Steve rushed to put his skates on so he could catch up with his two gremlins. They would have to return the gear before the store closed, but Steve thought he wouldn’t mind paying the late fee if it meant Max’s smile stayed for a little while longer.

Notes:

I like to imagine Steve having a classical education as a child (foreign languages, piano lessons, art studies) before completely throwing it away as a teenager to be "normal and cool," which led him to be a total douche before the upside down happenings.

The painting from the movie is Georges Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte," and the painting Max fixated on was Arthur Hughes' "In the Grass."

Thank you so much for reading, and please forgive any mistakes! ^^

Chapter 3: Lost in Music

Notes:

This is my longest chapter yet and also the angstiest, so please heed the content warnings:

Eddie's childhood: minor description of physical child abuse and the death of his mother

Steve's childhood: minor description of physical child abuse and abandonment

Max's nightmare: guilt over Billy and the death of Steve and Eddie (though not gruesomely detailed)

minor discussion of suicide

“Steven Solomon Harrington! Wake up! I’m hungry,” Max whispered not too gently in the older’s ear as she shook him awake. She loved the man. She really did. And appreciated everything he had done for her. But all said appreciation promptly took a nosedive out the window once her stomach started growling.

 

“S.S.H.? Am I a ship now?” he croaked out, rolling over to face the redhead.

 

“Yes, if it means you’ll get your ass in gear and get me some breakfast,” she poked his cheek repeatedly.

 

“What about room service?” Steve pulled the girl close to him and ruffled her bedhead. 

 

“I wanna see more of Chicago.” She ducked down and backed away from him, pouting and crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

 

Steve nodded his head from side to side, mulling over her words before agreeing, stating in the words of Eddie, “The Lady shall receive whatever she desires.” (He was pleased that this made her giggle.)

 

With a quick change into sweats and an “Mhm, sure spiderman” from a sleepy Eddie, the two were out the door walking to a nearby diner. Chicago was infinitely cool to Max, especially since she hadn’t been to any major city after leaving California. However, as with any major city, it was overwhelming. So she held Steve’s arm for support and ensured her glasses were sufficiently tinted. 

 

Still, it was nice to take a walk with her brother and closest confidant (at least, physically speaking). Because of how close the two had become over the past couple of months, she instantly noticed the nervous energy radiating off the older man. 

 

“So about Eddie…,” he focused on everything except the girl holding on to him while making sure to not trip lest he wanted the slander of a lifetime.

 

“Munson?” the redhead quirked an eyebrow at her older brother. She said nothing else while waiting for him to get his nerves situated.

 

“Yes, Munson,” he mocked, “D’you like him?” he whispered, peering into the street beside him.

 

Max felt a smile slowly form on her lips. On the one hand, there was absolutely no reason for him to seek approval from a fifteen-year-old. But, on the other hand, she was absolutely honored that he wanted to include her in his life like this. She always knew she was harder to get along with, rough edges formed from an even rougher childhood. 

 

It did not help that Billy was her brother. She always felt a misplaced want of acceptance from the other, not realizing she had received it from Steve from the very beginning. Though he could be overbearing at times, he was never patronizing. Instead, he listened to her and loved her, flaws and all. Sometimes Max hated the fact that she was chasing a sinking ship when she had a liferaft by her side the entire time.

 

Steve’s sexuality and partner were never a bother to her. In fact, she was proud of the man for coming into his own, realizing that his forever partner was a man and not a woman. (And not just any man but Eddie Munson.) Max always knew there were other options besides liking boys. Still, she never thought deeper about it until Steve and Eddie got together. They made her more confident in herself and the uncharted waters she was about to explore. And with the way that Steve loved, she knew she would accept any conclusion she made about herself.

 

She stopped to look at the older man. The hand on the arm she wasn’t holding was switching from fiddling with his sweater to messing with his hair. She took it to still the twitching. Then she enveloped him in a searing, bone-crushing hug. Steve was quick to encompass her, and she was hit with the scent of citrus and vanilla. 

 

“I like him. He makes you happy.” Her voice was muffled by his chest, but she felt how his heart stuttered at her words. 

 

“Thanks, Red,” he whispered after a beat, kissing the top of her head. Max had to will herself not to blush at Steve’s use of Eddie’s nickname for her.

 

After separating, they resumed their previous positions. They continued towards the diner, where Max confidently ordered breakfast for the three of them. (Steve beamed at how her confidence shined when ordering food, in Chicago at least. It was just a tiny sliver of the old Max, and he sought to cherish it completely.)

 

“Oh? Look at what the fam brought in!”

 

Eddie was already up and dressed by the time they came back. He looked sinful with pants that were practically painted on him and an Iron Maiden t-shirt with the arm holes cut so obscenely that it showed everything from his chest to hips. It didn’t help that his hair was up in a messy bun with stray curls framing his face. And his boots added a couple of inches, making the older man tower over the other. 

 

Steve was looking. Eddie knew that Steve was looking. That’s why he casually sidled behind Steve (who tried to occupy himself by removing their breakfast from the takeout bags), sliding his hands around his abdomen and under the sweater.

 

“What’cha got there, big boy?” Steve hated that particular pet name (re: his brain always, always shuts down whenever Eddie used it), and Eddie knew this as he licked the shell of his ear. Steve’s breath hitched, prompting Eddie to go further. He was stopped, however, when the redhead piped up.

 

“Pancakes, waffles, and french toast with bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs.”

 

“And orange juice,” Steve added.

 

“And orange juice,” Eddie echoed in mock disbelief before pecking his lips.

 

Max purposefully went between the two to retrieve her food, causing them to break apart. They ended up eating outside on the balcony, watching the bustling Chicago streets below. But, of course, Max and Eddie could not keep to their own meals and picked at Steve’s and each other’s plates. (Steve really didn’t know why he thought his food was his when he’s been sharing it with the Gremlins since they first met.)

 

“So, what are we doing today?” Max asked, chewing a piece of stolen bacon.

 

“Would you like to receive a crash course in music?” Eddie leaned into her, DM voice promising wonder and delight for everyone nearby.

 

Max raised a brow and leaned right back, urging him to continue.

 

“I went downstairs and got a map of the city. Apparently, there’s this iconic music store with all the instruments in the world and all the albums ever created.”

 

Eddie waved his hands as he talked. Steve always found it endearing (even when slinging syrup everywhere). Of course, he knew Eddie was exaggerating about the store. Still, he couldn’t help but nod along with Max when Eddie excitedly asked if they wanted to go.

 

---

 

Lost in Music was not only the name of the music store but also the name of the song playing as they entered said store. (Ironically, the trio managed to arrive without getting lost on the L.) Max and Steve listened attentively as Eddie expounded his appreciation for disco. They subconsciously vowed to save this highly confidential information for reasons (re: blackmail).

 

Though Eddie may have exaggerated, it wasn’t far off to say that the store was immense. Rows upon rows of vinyls and cassettes occupied shelves in the front. Towards the back were instruments from guitars and pianos to bongos and flutes. Further back were listening booths and soundproof studios where one could practice and record music. 

 

Once in the store, Eddie immediately took Max to the wall of guitars in the back. However, there were more than just guitars on the wall. It had practically every stringed instrument, from the mandolin to the ukulele. Eddie gestured to the wall, patiently waiting for Max to pick one. Though he felt like a kid in a candy store, her enjoyment outweighed his constant need to gush over every hanging instrument.

 

Max’s eyes carefully roamed over each instrument. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold down the strings on the fretboard, but she may be able to pluck them with her other hand. A ukulele was too small for two people to play, and the bass would’ve been perfect as it had fewer strings, but the redhead wasn’t sure if Eddie knew how to play. Eventually, she decided on a sleek black acoustic guitar and pointed at it for Eddie to take down. She worried she had made the wrong choice, but he only beamed at her while detailing the entire history of the instrument. 

 

He took her hand and led her to the carpeted floor of one of the studios beside a blue suede couch. He leaned against the sofa while she sat between his legs, holding the guitar. Eddie knew without her telling that he would have to hold the fretboard. He took her right hand and gently guided her to pluck the strings. With each string, he taught her which chord it was and what sound it made. After learning the chords, she started plucking the strings randomly, with Eddie instinctively knowing which one to hold down. They did this for a little while, making a game out of it. 

 

 

During this, Eddie told her the story of his first guitar, a black guitar not unlike the one they were practicing on. His mother worked two jobs (sometimes four when times were rough), and all she did was spend money on him. It was nothing too lavish, maybe ice cream on the first Monday of the month or a movie on the last Friday. She knew it wasn’t much, wasn’t the world she promised for her newborn, but it was enough, especially when his eyes shone brighter than the sun.

 

The one thing Eddie loved to do was to listen to music with his mom. She adored jazz and the otherworldly sounds of Miles Davis and Ella Fitzgerald. They only had about three or four records at home, but by the time he was ten, he memorized all of them, front and back. She couldn’t afford any lessons, and she couldn’t play any instrument, but what Liza Munson could do was take her son to the record store and let him pick out any record to listen to in the booths at the back. 

 

At first, Eddie only picked jazz artists he knew, but with her encouragement, he started to branch out into other genres. Soon, he became enamored with rock. His mom loved the likes of the Beatles and Bowie, while he was more inclined to Black Sabbath and Grateful Dead. The only thing they could agree on was The Rolling Stones. 

 

Liza saw how Eddie gravitated towards songs with prominent guitars and guitar solos. So she vowed to buy her baby a guitar if it was the last thing she did. (And it was.)

 

Eddie wouldn’t say his life was the greatest, but it was the best when his mom was around. However, everything changed at eleven when his father got released from a seven-year stint in prison for aggravated assault. Eddie last saw the man when he was four, and he only remembered how loud he was when he yelled. After that, his life was thrown into disarray as the asshole grabbed his mother, demanded money, and threatened violence. Eddie learned how sharp rings could cut when he tried to separate them. 

 

Liza wasn’t a pushover, but she would lay down her life for her son. If cops or any other authority figure (like her older brother) meant bruises on her child, the only other option she had was to follow his demands. So she worked harder, and they went out less. (Eddie never really learned how one could work five different jobs in seven days.) The only thing that stayed relatively the same was their music days. They couldn’t go as often or stay as long, but every Sunday, an hour before closing, she would let him pick a record for them to listen to. Those were the only times Eddie remembered his mom smiling after his dad returned.

 

One day in April, two months before his twelfth birthday, Liza collapsed due to a combination of stress and exhaustion. She was rushed to the hospital, but her chance of recovery was slim. Eight hours after collapsing, Liza died of a brain aneurysm. All Eddie remembered was a livid father beating in the hallway outside of the operating room, a nurse taking him away and slipping him a note, and a phone call from CPS informing him about his new arrangements.

 

After his cuts were bandaged, Eddie took the chance to look at the note. “Under my bed, sweetheart. XOXO” For the first time that night, Eddie cried for his dead mother.

 

The next day he met his Uncle Wayne for the third time in his life. Eddie had no thoughts about the man other than the fact that he couldn’t be worse than his father (who was detained for child abuse but somehow managed to escape custody, stole a car, crossed state lines, was hunted down, and eventually sentenced to thirty years in jail for everything he did plus drug trafficking).  

 

Eddie had very little to pack for his new life in Hawkins, Indiana. But, per her final note, Eddie dutifully crawled under his mother’s bed to discover a black acoustic guitar with a red bow. From your #1 fan was written in red lipstick punctuated with a kiss. Shakily, Eddie’s fingers ran over the words, feeling their glossiness without smudging them, knowing they could never be removed. He curled over the guitar and let his tears fall. A little later, Wayne found him asleep in the same position.

 

 

As Eddie told the riveting story of his childhood, he zoned out, mindlessly playing the guitar he now fully held. He only noticed Max’s hand was gone when he felt it brush away tears that managed to escape his subconscious. 

 

“Was that her favorite song?” she whispered, holding his face in her hands.

 

As he zoned back in, he realized he kept repeating the beginning chords of Hotel California by the Eagles. He nodded and gave a small smile as he continued the song properly. Max settled back into his chest with one ear focused on the steady beating heart of her older brother while the other listened to the soft crackle of the lyrics.

 

 

Across the room, Steve was having an intense staredown with a baby grand piano. He saw Eddie and Max leave to practice guitar, and his heart swelled at the thought of his lover and sister becoming closer. To preoccupy himself, he took a seat at the piano and cracked his fingers as though he was about to give the concert of a lifetime. 

 

Only, he didn’t. His fingers hovered over the keys, wavering slightly but never committing to a chord. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to play. Music lessons were the only thing his mother seemed to enjoy paying for. It wasn’t that he didn't know any songs either. He knew an extensive range of songs from Beethoven to Elton John. It was just…Music lessons were the only thing his parents enjoyed paying for.

 

 

All his life, Steve knew he was nothing more than a doll (or rather a show monkey) to his parents. They dressed him up, spoke to him in French, and gave him art and piano lessons only for him to show off to their clients and colleagues. If he deviated from the box he was put in, he was punished. Crying about a broken toy was a slap on the wrist. Wanting to bake cookies earned him a belt to the back of his legs. 

 

Steve never wanted anything to do with his classical education, but the desire to sleep without bruises outweighed his rebelliousness. The piano was the only thing he mildly enjoyed. His teacher was nice, and his parents left him alone for hours. Unfortunately, the piano was also something he mildly loathed. With every lesson, no matter the weather, he wore long sleeves to hide the bruises from his father. He also gave a big smile to distract from the bags under his eyes as his mother used to keep him up all night with etiquette classes about fine dining. 

 

However, his facade couldn’t last forever. When his teacher became too curious (and maybe Steve was done with all the hiding), his parents became furious. 

 

At ten, Steve was slapped in the face for the first and last time by his father. It was also the first and last time his mother yelled at him for being an insolent brat. After a decade of investment, his parents surmised they would receive no reward from their child. So, they cut their losses. Steve was abandoned and all but emancipated from his parents. 

 

He was taken care of by nannies and maids until he was thirteen, when he was considered “a real man” by his father. His parents came home occasionally but never for long. They never interacted at home together, too disgusted at their worthless son. Steve didn’t know what was worse, the constant torment of parents who never loved him or the unsettling silence of loneliness. Unwilling to engage in introspection, Steve chose to bury things deep down under the moniker “King Steve.” 

 

(Luckily, a haughty twelve-year-old, his sarcastic opposite, a rambling lesbian, and a nerdy supersenior were the ones who unearthed the true Steve and accepted him, cracks and all.)

 

 

Steve was shaken out of his thoughts when his Gremlins decided to accompany him at the piano.

 

“Alright, we get it. You’re the next Beethoven,” the redhead rolled her eyes, and Steve refused to respond. However, with her comment, Steve realized that he was indeed playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Specifically, he was halfway through the third movement when they arrived. (He didn’t know if Max knew it was Beethoven or if he was very basic. Either way, her accuracy scared him.)

 

While Max was looking at his hands, Steve felt Eddie’s gaze on his face. Steve turned to look at his lover, who had red-ringed eyes and dried tear tracks down his face. In return, Eddie saw abject confusion, loneliness, fear, and pain in Steve’s eyes. Eddie couldn’t kiss the storm away, but he could wrap an arm around the younger and provide the comfort of stability as the other leaned into him.  

 

“Do you know how to play chopsticks?” Steve broke the comfortable but heavy silence that settled around the trio. He peered down at the redhead, who shook her head at him.

 

Steve leaned away from Eddie and positioned his hands over the piano keys. He motioned for Max to place her hands on top of his. He started slow so she could get a feel for the song. After she got comfortable with it, he removed his left hand, beckoning her to continue with hers. Initially, she was hesitant since her fingers couldn’t bend, but this didn’t stop her. She played the song with Steve, a bit slower and shaky but with a genuine smile. Eddie couldn’t help the way he beamed, watching the brother and sister interact.

 

 

True to the spirit of Liza, the trio spent all day in the music store playing various instruments and listening to dozens of records. At one point, Max became completely enamored with a set of bongos. They were easy to play with her condition, and there were no complicated chords to learn. She played without abandon, not unlike a child banging pots and pans with a wooden spoon. Eddie and Steve's shared look foretold a very special present for the girl in the future.

 

Their day of exploration ended when Max suddenly proclaimed: “How have I been in Chicago for three days and not had deep dish pizza?”

 

The look she gave the lovers had the men asking the manager for the best pizza shop around. They were instructed to walk five blocks down and around the corner. True to Max’s signature style, she was the one who ordered dinner (with a challenging smile). 

 

The trio audibly gasped at the pizza as it arrived at their table, making native Chicagoans chuckle at their reaction. (It reminded Steve of the quiches his mother’s clients would make. He instinctively knew this would taste better.) Max was the first to snap out of her awe as she cut the first slice. Eddie followed soon after, and Steve watched with fondness as the two sniffed their food before ravenously taking the first bite. Once he was assured that it was “literally the best thing in the world,” Steve took his first bite. Again, Steve was amazed at how great the food was.

 

---

 

It was dark, but Max was used to the darkness by now. She woke up blind after everything with Vecna, and she knew that her revived vision wasn’t permanent. However, this darkness wasn’t of the blind variety. She could see her hands in front of her and her body below her. Instead, this darkness was empty and unsettling.

 

As she stumbled through the void, she stepped back into a chair where her arms and legs were strapped down. Suddenly the void crackled to life with the static of two televisions switched on in front of her. On the left was Steve. On the right was Eddie. Two buttons that corresponded to the men were placed just within reach.

 

Max was terrified. She knew what was going to happen and was forced to watch. Simultaneously, both of their eyes rolled back in their heads. They went rigid as Vecna held them in a trance.

 

“Pick one.”

 

Billy’s voice tore a shriek out of her. He was repulsive, body half rotten with a sinister smile.

 

“You couldn’t save me. Didn’t want to save me. But you can save them. Only one though.”

 

Max wanted to scream that she wanted more from Billy. A brother she could rely on and trust. A brother who loved her. Eventually, she thought that could happen one day. And maybe, realistically, she couldn’t have done anything. But that doesn’t stop her regret of not trying. 

 

But she couldn’t scream. Couldn’t make a sound. And now Billy was taunting her with her guilt, making her choose between the two men closer to her than Billy ever was. 

 

“Who would it be? Steve? The one that was always there? The one that always protected you? The one that would listen even though he never quite understood everything? Or Eddie? The one that understood ? The one that could untangle the thoughts you hid from existence? The one that would forever run from a fight but never from you?”

 

Max watched in horror as the two were lifted into the air, bones threatening to break in unnatural ways, eyes threatening blindness from the most gruesome of causes. 

 

Max couldn’t choose. She couldn’t . She loved both of them equally but in different ways. Steve was a constant comfort, like an old blanket or stuffed animal. Eddie’s comfort came from his unpredictableness, like a rainstorm or the ocean. She knew that neither would blame her if she did choose, but she also knew that one couldn’t live without the other. They were soulmates with the kind of love that lasted centuries. They were the kind of lovers who would recognize each other long after they had lived their first lives. They were eternal, and Max couldn’t destroy that. 

 

She screamed and pleaded for forgiveness, letting both of them die, knowing it would be too cruel to have only one survivor of their love.

 

 

“Max! Max! Wake up! Please wake up!”

 

Max awoke with a gasp as a pair of hands shook her. She grasped one of them, noting the callouses which indicated that it was Eddie’s. Another pair of arms encircled her, and she was pulled into a broad chest covered in soft cotton, Steve. 

 

They were here. They were both alive. And Max didn’t have to choose. She cried into their arms (which did nothing to help her blurry vision), relieved that both her brothers were safe.

 

After a while, they took her out to the balcony for fresh air. Even though it was three in the morning, the city was still alive. Max was wrapped in a blanket on Steve’s lap while Eddie sat close by, holding her ankles. Eventually, Max untangled herself from Steve and kicked Eddie out of his chair with a not-so-subtle nod, wanting a little space for herself. Eddie sat on the armrest of Steve's chair as he wrapped an arm around the older man’s waist. He held his other hand out to Max to take whenever she was ready.

 

“...I had to choose between saving you two…and I couldn’t…so I watched you die instead…”

 

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she reached for Steve. The lovers made eye contact, now understanding her cries for forgiveness. Eddie rolled out of Steve’s hold with an ungraceful flourish. He kneeled before the redhead and rubbed one of her knees while the other hand held her face gently.

 

“We are here, my darling Red. Living, breathing, and alive . That creep…That bastard…is gone. And he cannot hurt you anymore. I promise that no one would ever force you to choose, and I’m pretty sure Stevie over here would give them hell if they do. (The two chuckled over the thought of the nail bat.) I know that doing nothing is also a choice, subconsciously or not. But in an impossible situation like that, there were no options. There were no choices. But Steve and I would’ve supported any one you picked because: It wasn’t your fault. Luckily, Steve and I are very much alive, and when we die, it will be on our accord, right?”

 

She nodded before Eddie kissed her on her forehead. Steve punctuated the speech with a ruffle to her hair. She moved aside so Eddie could sit and leaned across the dual armrests so she could reach Steve. He kept his hand in her hair while Eddie rubbed her back. 

 

“Have you ever thought about jumping?” she mumbled into the crook of her elbow, head jerking towards the barrier so they could parse the meaning. Max didn’t want to die, but sometimes it was tough to live. Steve spoke first.

 

“Every time this Upside Down bullshit happens. Especially after the Russians. I wasn’t ‘normal’ for months, and I’m still a little fucked up from that. The only reason I back away from the ledge is because I have you, and the rest of your little party, and Robin, and Nancy, and that one over there. (Eddie stuck his tongue out while he blew a kiss.) You guys are literally why I’m still alive, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything happens to you.”

 

Steve ruffled her hair again before softly kissing the crown of her head. Max peered up to see unshed tears, and her heart skipped a beat over how much this man cared. She heard how he never left her (and Eddie’s) side for the three weeks she was in a coma. He took her to all her appointments and physical therapy sessions. He would “suffer” for hours on end watching The Karate Kid and taking quizzes from teen magazines because it made her happy. Not for the first time, she admired the fact that Steve was always there, which led her to give him a kiss on the cheek which he returned with a small smile.

 

“Aww~” Eddie’s cooing broke them out of their little bubble. 

 

“Isn’t he just so noble? Me? I live out of spite. My dad wants me dead. Half the town still wants me dead, but am I gonna die? No. Not by their hands and therefore not by my own. Killing myself means they get to relish in the fact that they drove me off the face of the earth. Living means they have to be forever disappointed that their dream didn’t come true. And let me tell you something, kid. For this one matter, I enjoy killing dreams more than the government does.”

 

Eddie was dramatic as usual, but Max knew it was because he wanted to take a different angle than Steve. Not that it was false, but sometimes it was hard to admit that he found the family he used to dream about. People other than his uncle now care about him, about what he does, and what happens to him. Eddie lived out of spite, yes, but he also lived for love. His mother’s love, first and foremost. Then Steve, Dustin, Max, and everyone else he met along the way. Eddie was loved more than he had been in his entire life, and he was forever grateful to them.

 

Max knew this as she leaned back to ruffle his hair and kiss him on the cheek. She took both their hands in hers and took a deep, cleansing breath before leading them back inside. It was unspoken that she would sleep in their bed that night (or morning rather). As she lay facing Eddie with Steve protecting her back, both with arms crossed over her waist, she felt safer than she had been in years. 

 

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading, and forgive any mistakes. This is officially my longest work yet!

I'm thinking about throwing my update schedule completely out the window, but hopefully, I will finish this by Labor Day at the latest.

I don't usually preview the next chapter, but since this one was so dark (and the darkest this fic will get), here's a hint for Chapter 4: Beach Day.

Also, the song in the title is Lost in Music by Sister Sledge.

Notes:

I'm a New Yorker born in this century, so my knowledge of 80s Chicago comes from 1 show (Aerial Cities: Episode 2- Chicago 24), 1 movie (Ferris Bueller's Day Off), and google. I may be a history major, but I am NOT aiming for historical accuracy lest I want to rip all my curls out.

(Though, if there is anything incorrect about the city or Max's disabilities, please do inform me!)

I do hope to update weekly but don't quote me on that!

Thanks for reading, and forgive any mistakes! Comments and Kudos are very appreciated as well! ^^

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