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Steve was waiting at his house for Eddie to bring the kids over. The metal head had basically threatened to cancel all of Hellfire if they didn’t apologize to Steve. The former jock in question felt guilty that the party was literally being forced to see him. He wants them to want to see him, but he knows they wouldn’t have come without an incentive. Beyond that, he’s pissed with himself. He is having a relatively decent day in terms of chronic pain, but all that does is make things worse. This, of course, happened to be one of the few days as of recent where his muscles don’t protest ever move, one of the few days his skull doesn’t feel like it’s about to crush brain. If he does tell the party what’s been going on, Steve has no proof.
He should be in more pain; he has to show the kids the pain is real. But things aren’t so bad today, and because of this, he believes he won’t be able to convince them the pain is real; he hardly convinces himself. Now that it’s not so bad today, all he can think is, I was being dramatic. The pain is not as bad as I make it out to be. But, at the same time he remembers Eddie pointing out that those aren’t his words, they’re his father’s. It meant the world to Steve that someone realized it, even before he did, but the awareness also made things more confusing and frustrating.
Usually, he prays for the pain to stop, or at least lessen. But now, he wants to be in more pain. Want isn’t the right word; he needs to be in more pain. He needs to have unquestionable evidence that his pain is real, both for the kids but also himself. But all he feels right now, other than relief from the pain, is shame. He feels like a fraud.
He can’t wallow for long, though, because he hears the engine of Eddie’s van as it parks in the driveway. Steve didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he should stay sitting on the couch or stand and meet them at the door. His hands were fidgeting. He felt like a kid in trouble. They were there to apologize to him, but, sitting there shifting awkwardly, he felt guilty. Like he caused trouble. Like he was wasting their time.
The front door opens, “Alright, file in gremlins!” Eddie's voice echoes through the front foyer.
Steve took a shaky breath in. He barely let it halfway out when the kids came into view, coming into the living room. Seeing them made him feel a mix of relief and apprehension. He was relieved to see them all healthy and safe, especially since he hasn’t been there for them recently. But, apprehension won over his relief though. Again, he knows they are supposedly there to apologize to him, yet he’s terrified they won’t forgive him. What if they don’t want to hear him out? What if they demand an explanation? What if they don’t believe him? What if he’s truly just being dramatic? What if he costs them their Hellfire club? What if they officially kick him out of the Party? What if-
“Hey Steve.”
Dustin
“Hey Dust,” the nickname comes so easily. Steve had missed his crooked smile and the way his hair bushes out around the baseball cap on his head. He missed his pseudo brother.
Eddie is the last to enter the room. When no one else speaks for a full 30 seconds, Eddie rolls his eyes, “Don’t you shitheads have something to say?”
Mike huffs, “I don’t get this,” he groaned.
“You want to play DnD, you apologize.”
“You want us to apologize to Steve, who blew us off repeatedly, without even an explanation?!” Mike asked incredulously, even though he already knew the deal before he walked into the teen’s house. Steve shrank back, but did his best to not make it noticeable.
“Yes,” the metal head answered simply.
“We deserve an explanation.”
“No, you don’t.” Eddie seemed satisfied leaving it at that, but then added, “Steve deserves common decency from his friends and yet here we are.”
“What do you mean common decency? He kept blowing us off!”
“He stopped answering the walkie, even when we called out to him,” Lucas adds.
“See! He owes us an apology!”
“No, he absolutely does not!” Eddie yelled back, obviously furious on behalf of Steve.
“Why do we owe an apology, and he does not?” El asked.
“Exactly?!” Mike obnoxiously had to add.
“Because he didn’t do anything wrong,” Eddie seethed, words escaping through clenched teeth.
“What about ignoring us, refusing to hang out, not even helping us with a ride?” Max asked incredulously.
Steve watched this all unfold, his guilt tripling with each shout, each question, each assumption. He wanted to go back to the time when no one, not even Eddie, knew. Yes, things were worse because he didn’t have anyone to confide in or anyone to take care of him, even though he would never admit he needed someone to take care of him. But, at least his stupid body didn’t tear the party apart. He wanted to cry watching the people he loved pitted against each other because of him. He wanted to speak up, but he couldn’t think of anything that would fix this, other than possibly removing himself from the party once and for all.
Dustin, although hearing what is being said, is not looking at Eddie and the others, his eyes are on Steve. He hasn’t seen him for a while. He looks on the verge of tears and it really messed with him. He knows Steve as the Jock, the King, the protector, the babysitter, etc. Always a figure of power, but this Steve is trying to sink into the couch, glassy eyes watching the scene unfold. Staring at Steve, it occurs to the younger boy that the older teen has looked worse. Not just after a fight with the Upside Down or even Jonathan and Billy, but the last few times he has seen the former jock. Like, the other month, when Steve took them to the Mall. The boy’s hair had been limp and disheveled, his eyes covered by sunglasses, his clothes sweaty and wrinkled. How did it not occur to him then?
“Steve, please tell us what’s going on?” The soft question, laced with worry, made the others in the room quiet.
Steve stared up at him, scared of how well the younger one could read him. He knows the jig is up, he can’t keep hiding this. The most terrifying part of it is that once the pain is no longer a secret to the party, he can’t try to keep it a secret from himself. He has to face that this is a real problem he can no longer consciously ignore, or at least try.
Eddie comes up to him, crouching down and looking him straight in the eye, “You have no obligation to tell them anything.”
Steve can’t help but smile down at Eddie, “I know, it’s okay.” He said, and the metal head eyed him suspiciously, shifting his gaze from one eye to the other, before sighing, standing back up, and plopping down right beside the teen on the couch, arms touching.
All the kids were looking at him incredulously, although Mike still looked very annoyed and Dustin looked very worried. “So?” Mike unhelpfully asked. Eddie glared at him.
“So,” Steve continued the younger’s thought, “you know how-” The boy was trying to find the right words as he picked a place on the wall to focus on, “you know how after every upside down event or what happened with Billy, how I get up and bounce back quickly everytime?” He rambled.
“Yeah,” Will said as he did his best to clock every expression, every movement, every crack in the former jocks mask.
“That’s not completely true.”
“What’s not completely true?” Mike asked harshly.
“I don’t just bounce back everytime,” she states ashamedly, “not fully.” He was getting frustrated with himself, unable to say what he meant, “at least, not without lasting effects.”
“Lasting effects?” Dustin asks, his voice curious yet small.
“Yeah,” Steve says, matching the kid's tone.
Mike cuts in, “You realize that doesn’t explain anything right?”
“I swear to God Wheeler!” Eddie starts, but Steve puts a hand on his knee.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
Steve squeezes the other’s knee again before continuing, “All the knocks to the head and body left me with a lot of…” This was it, he had to come clean. Confess a crime even.
“A lot of what?” Will asked softly.
Steve took a shaky breath, “Pain.” Mike finally dropped his arms, which were previously folded in front of his chest. Now that it was out, though, Steve couldn’t stop himself, tears appearing on his lower lash line, “It’s horrible,” he admits, “my head often feels like it’s throbbing, ready to explode,” the salt water dripped down his face, “my body hurts from just breathing. Walking can feel completely impossible.” He sniffles as he wipes his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks, his tone hurt.
Steve let out a misplaced, humorless laugh, “Because it’s embarrassing. I am supposed to look after you guys, and when I can’t, I feel useless.” He says before letting out a large sigh, “I didn’t want to cause trouble; it’s not your guys’ problem.”
“Friends aren’t trouble, Steve,” El said. She would know more than anyone.
“Yeah, yo-” Lucas started, but Mike cut him off.
“Wait, that doesn’t explain why you completely ignored us on the walkie.”
Steve was hoping to at least keep this shame to himself, but that doesn’t seem like an option now, “Yeah, well, when the pain passes a certain threshold,” He is looking anywhere but their eyes, “I find that I can’t really speak,” he tries to laugh again, but it’s weak and probably didn’t even register to the rest that it was a laugh.
“Can’t speak?” Will asked, his expression even more concerned.
“Yeah, it’s like I want to speak, even scream, but I can’t get the words past my thoughts.” Steve explains, “I swear, I wanted to answer you, I did.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince them as well as himself, “I couldn’t stand you thinking that I didn’t want to hang with you all anymore. I tried so hard to tell you that I still want to be a part of the party, that I honestly treasure the party.” He surprised himself, saying that, not that it wasn’t true.
“Why didn’t you reach back out?” Max asks, “You still have the walkie.”
“I know. I just thought that it was easier this way. Thought if you hated me-” He kept his eyes on his fidgeting hands, Eddie’s warm right one coming to land on top of his gently, calming him, “if you hated me I wouldn’t let you down anymore.”
“We don’t hate you Steve,” Dustin spoke.
“Maybe not you,” the boy said as he looked up at Mike, who, for his part, actually looked a bit sheepish.
“Got something to say Wheeler?” Eddie said with a bit of a bite as he raised an eyebrow, staring the kid down.
“Hey, I didn’t know!” He said defensively.
“And now you do.” Eddie said simply.
“Fine,” Mike huffed, “I’m sorry.”
Steve was about to accept the apology, but Eddie refused to put it to rest, not yet at least. “You can do better than that. What are you sorry for?”
“Seriously?!”
“Seriously.” Eddie said and waited, Steve feeling uncomfortable. When the other didn’t speak up again he added, “you want Hellfire, you apologize properly.”
Again, Mike huffed annoyedly, “I’m sorry for assuming you were the douche you used to be.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, “Try again.”
Mike let out a frustrated groan, “I’m sorry I assumed you didn’t care about us.”
Eddie seemed to weigh the response in his head, “Fine, good enough. Now how about the rest of you?”
The other kids came forward, Eddie stood in front of them, his pointer fingers raised, “Alright, apology on three, ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer, “1 2 3.”
He brings his fingers farther and closer to each other with each word as the kids chant in off pitch unison, “We’re sorry Steve.”
Eddie looks back at Steve with a shit eating grin, “Hey, I’m pretty good at this, I would make an amazing conductor!” Steve couldn’t help but laugh and roll his eyes at his dramatic boyfriend.
“We really are sorry, Steve,” Will said. Steve always thought he was a lot more self aware and empathetic than the others.
“Yeah, I really had no idea you were hurting so bad, I just wish you trusted us more.” Dustin said, sitting on Steve’s other side on the couch.
“I do trust you guys. It's just that-” Steve didn’t like being this vulnerable, but he couldn’t have the kids thinking he didn’t trust them, “I was raised in a household where weaknesses, well, they're supposed to be ignored and hidden at all costs.”
“You don’t have to hide from us,” El said determinately.
“I know,” and he did, “but just thinking about others knowing was mortifying.”
“Well, now that we know, how can we help?” Will asked.
“Yeah, what can we do?” Lucas added.
Steve wanted to cry again; he never expected the kids to immediately jump to helping him. He barely had hope that this conversation would end with them forgiving him, let alone believing him. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” The concern was kind yet a bit overwhelming.
“Well, we should definitely come up with a code for when you go non verbal,” Dustin spoke up, and the rest nodded along.
“How about he clicks the walkie button five times when he can’t speak,” Max offers.
“Yeah, the static coming in and out would alert us,” Mike said, adding to the solution rather than the problem finally. Steve pulled Eddie’s arm, successfully pulling him back onto the couch beside him.
“We should also come up with a codename for this situation too!” Dustin adds, his eyes lighting up in the way Steve absolutely adores, an intelligently creative shimmer, “like Operation Help the Babysitter!”
Steve couldn’t help but smile as the kids brainstormed ways to help him. He leaned into Eddie, head pillowed against Eddie's curly, frizzy hair on the other boy’s shoulder. Silently watching the party’s overprotectiveness that he never thought would be aimed toward him. He wouldn’t admit it yet, but having people care for him was starting to feel more pleasant and safe than uncomfortable, like it had most of his life.
For once, other than with Eddie of course, Steve felt like he didn’t want to hide or wallow in his pain alone, and above all, he didn’t need to anymore.