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The world is falling apart.
Both of them.
The good world and the bad.
Angry collision, verging on collapse and there’s no time, no time to do anything but run towards the gap of light as the Upside Down screams and rages against the demise of its master.
Steve is carrying Eleven, he’s got her in his arms and she’s unconscious, her face bloody, pale.
‘Go, go!’ he yells at the kids who are doing stupid fucking shit like falling back to try and fight off the monsters that come running in the chaos. ‘Jonathan! Get them to the gate!’
Jon fires the final round from the shotgun he drops before he does just that, runs back to grab Dustin, drag him away. Nancy provides cover fire. She’s the last one with a working gun. Robin and Max are standing by the gate, throwing the last of the Molotovs to keep it clear, but they can’t.
Because the monsters aren’t only fighting, they’re fleeing. Flooding through the gap. Bats, mostly, but smaller demodogs too. Steve can see them getting in and the gate isn’t closing, Eleven’s unconscious in his arms.
Will, Mike and Lucas went through first.
Will was hurt, something bit his leg real bad but Steve killed it, made sure he went through first with Mike and Lucas helping him.
They’re so close.
Steve can see the world.
He can see earth.
Indiana.
Hawkins.
A flash of blue sky.
The gate El opened won’t close without her.
Or without fire.
And she fought so fucking hard, they all did.
And it worked.
Creel is dead.
The world is raging, running towards the gate.
Mike is helping to pull everyone through. Behind him, Lucas shoots a few of what come through but it’s not sustainable. This gate is vertical, it’s a rip right in the upright fabric of this place.
Nancy goes through, reaches back for Eleven. Steve hands her over carefully and then takes Nancy’s gun from her belt.
Two bats fly through so fast it almost knocks Nancy down. She screams and Lucas fires off from the other side, but it’s not getting them all.
‘Get in!’ Steve tells Robin, who helps Max through. Kid’s hurt her arm, she’s cradling it. ‘C’mon, Buckley, move it!’
Jonathan has the flame thrower on the other side, he’s holding it ready to use but it’s not working.
Steve turns to face the oncoming hoard.
‘Steve, come on!’ Nancy yells, reaching through, trying to get him but he moves away.
‘Hold the line,’ he says calmly, checking the bullets in her revolver. Three left. Unlit Molotovs on the ground, the ones that fell and shattered, they’re right beneath the gate, but that won’t be enough.
More bats fly through, a demodog tries to leap into the gap, but Nancy swings the bat and sends it right back.
Robin is pulling Steve toward the gate.
They’re the last two.
Joyce dragged Hopper through, his arm all torn up, the older man was barely conscious, just like his little girl.
‘Steve, come on!’ Robin snaps, gripping so tight it hurts and he looks at her.
Loves her so much.
‘I’m coming, don’t worry,’ he tells her, moves back towards the gate. Jonathan is trying to get the flamethrower working, but still nothing. ‘Jon, give me the gas canister!’
‘The what?’
‘Steve, come on, we have to go through!’
‘You first, Robbie.’
‘No, no, you!’
He gets around the middle, shoves her through and she starts screaming, because she won’t go without him, only yes, she fucking will.
‘TAKE HER!’ he barks as Nancy and Jonathan drag her through. ‘And gimme the canister, I can close it if you cover me!’
Robin’s fighting to get back in but a burst of bats swoop through and knock them all down, all except Jonathan who gives Steve the canister of petrol and then quickly retreats to help fight off what’s trying to get through.
Steve starts pouring immediately.
All around the base of the gate, all over the ground, sloshing it thickly over the already spilled Molotovs. He pours it around the back too, makes a full circle. The bats that went through are attacking.
There’s gunfire, screaming.
Steve’s ready to go through, to light it from the other side. He can—
Something massive slams into him, knocks him flat. All the air punched from his lungs, fully winded and his bones hurt, fuck.
It’s the biggest demon he’s ever seen.
The bigger than an SUV.
It’s bigger than the gate and trying to squeeze through, cramming where it doesn’t fit.
Steve can only see tiny flashes of the other world. Torn off pieces of blue sky.
He gets to his feet, gasping for breath.
Fumbles inside his jean pockets for a lighter.
Pulls out the Zippo.
Cracks it and then throws it into the nearest pool. The fire catches, spreads.
The demons squeals, screams and writhes as flames engulf it. The gate visibly clenches and the massive, grotesque thing staggers back on all fours, lands in more fire, rolling in it until dead.
Steve looks at the gate.
It’s shrinking.
The fire is burning the demon, flames massive.
He can just see through the gap.
Blue skies, green trees.
Robin is screaming his name, trying to get through but Jonathan has her around the waist. Nancy is yelling at Steve to run, to try and get around the demon, anything, but he can’t.
There’s nowhere around the gate that isn’t on fire and the roasting demon blocks it entirely.
The gate is narrowing.
Steve takes a deep breath.
It’s OK.
It’ll all be OK.
He smiles at Nancy.
Robin is screaming, all the kids are.
Nancy shakes her head, hand over her mouth.
‘We love you, Steve,’ she tells him as the gate seals itself, barely the size of a car window now. The bats that try to get through immediately catch the flames and fly off, burning.
‘STEVE! NO, PLEASE!’
As loudly as he can, he says, ‘Tell her I’m sorry.’
The ground judders violently.
The last thing Steve hears is Dustin screaming his name.
And then the gate closes.
The world ripples.
The monsters swarm towards him now.
And Steve hopes it’s quick, but he feels proud too, almost calm with it. He knows he did the right thing, he did good and everyone else is safe.
That’s enough.
It’ll have to be.
*
He wakes very slowly.
It’s all dark, quiet, calm.
And at first, he’s got no sense of self.
Just… vague pain, all over.
He’s thirsty, knows that.
His mouth is dry as fuck.
And… ugh, whatever he’s lying on is hard, rough and uneven and not at all a bed.
Steve Harrington opens his eyes and sees more darkness, but this is charcoal grey rather than pitch black. He can’t see much so he blinks a few times which is a horrible mistake because his eyes sting immediately and the pain makes him jolt and then cough and then…
Then he’s on his side, retching.
Nothing comes up, he can’t remember the last time he had water, but his throat is burning.
Arm around his middle, he fights for breath.
When he’s upright, he looks around.
And slowly, it all comes trickling back in.
The world is no longer raging and angry.
A barren wasteland of silence, desolation and doom. It’s grey, cold, lifeless.
Steve’s bleeding a little, but he’s not dying.
He’s apparently not dying for a few days yet.
‘Fuck,’ he utters, rubs his eyes.
This was a bad fucking idea.
*
Three Days Ago
They’re out on the porch.
Steve’s smoking.
Robin comes out.
‘That’s gross.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘The kids hate it.’
Steve rolls his eyes. He’s watching the horizon, playing with the Zippo.
He’s on guard duty while the others talk through the specifics of their grand plan. He doesn’t need to be there for that, not like he’d be any help.
‘There’s worse things.’
Robin leans beside him on the porch railing, coughing pointedly until he sighs, stubs it and gives her a little smirk.
‘Happy?’
‘Ecstatic. Now you can live forever.’
He looks over her shoulder. ‘How’s the meeting?’
‘Eh, you know.’
‘We’re all gonna die?’
‘Pretty much. El might pull it out the bag.’
‘If anyone could, it’ll be her.’
Robin looks at him. ‘You still sad, huh?’
Steve stares ahead.
He’s watching the horizon.
Making sure nothing else bad comes at them in the dark. No swarms, no demons, no bats.
And it takes a few seconds before he quietly answers her question in the simplest way he knows how. ‘Yeah.’
‘I am too.’ She holds his hand and takes a shaky breath. ‘I don’t want anyone else to do that.’
His jaw tightens. ‘No one’s getting left behind.’
‘Promise?’
Steve kisses her knuckles. ‘I promise.’
*
He wanders.
There’s nothing.
No creatures, no moon, no stars.
No food, no water.
This is a bad way to die.
The town is a dead husk, like it got nuked a hundred years ago. The trees are rotted, long since dead and even the wind is mild.
The whole world is dead.
All but Steve.
He walks around for miles and in the quiet aftermath, he’s got no bravado to steady him, no adrenaline for fuel, just… himself.
It’s an ugly prospect.
He’s looking for shortcuts, but fucking god, his options aren’t great.
The only thing that keeps his spirits even slightly raised is knowing everyone got through OK. That they’re safe.
Dustin will be torn up.
Robin…
Well, the point is, they’re alive.
And Steve is in this dead, dry world without water. It’s silent, vacant.
But it’s still Hawkins.
So he wanders wherever he likes.
The movie theatre, frozen in time, forever showing Scarface. He hadn’t called Nancy a slut yet. He goes inside. It’s quiet, empty. No food, not even in the popcorn well. The posters are all rotted and faded.
He sits in screen three.
The seats are comfy, at least.
There, he thinks, he’ll just have a little nap.
His eyes are closing, drooping.
He’s this close to actually napping in this hellhole, when a voice appears out of fucking nowhere.
‘Hey, Harrington.’
He flinches so hard he almost falls into the seat beside him, smacks his elbow on the armrest and cricks his neck looking at…
‘Barb?!’
*
Two Days Ago
They’re double checking, triple checking, but it’s mostly just nerves now. Things to fill the time, to keep the kid’s mind off what’s about to happen.
Steve helps however he can.
This mostly means being with the kids.
It means letting them ramble, it means listening without judgement. It means sometimes doing something just a little wrong because Dustin really likes correcting people and Steve always smiles to himself as the kid rambles about inane shit, demanding to know how Steve has made it nineteen years on planet earth without knowing which way the batteries go inside a flashlight.
It means making food, checking in with the girls, who are always quieter than the idiotic boys.
But it’s not always with the kids.
Jonathan and Nancy aren’t speaking.
And Nancy’s off with Robin at the hardware store, so Steve goes out to where Jonathan is working on the truck they’re using to drive through the gate when opened.
‘Can I help?’
Jonathan’s underneath.
‘I got it, thanks.’
Steve crouches down, looks up at the sun and squints. ‘Have some water, it’s boiling today.’
‘I’m fine.’
Steve stays where he is, cold bottle of water in hand, the condensation rolls down his wrist until Jonathan huffs a sigh and shoves out from under the truck and takes the bottle.
He’s got a dent in his brow. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem,’ Steve says, sits with him on the sparse grass. ‘You doin’ OK?’
‘Been better,’ he answers at length. ‘Worried sick about Will.’ Brown eyes flick to Steve quickly. ‘All of them, obviously. Everyone. But… Will especially. He’s just… he gets so quiet when he’s scared.’
Like you, Steve thinks but doesn’t say.
‘He’s got you watching out for him.’
‘I guess.’ The older Byers boy shakes his head. ‘I keep thinking about the gate.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘About what happens if Eleven can’t close it. Those things’ll pour through.’ He shakes his head, wipes his eyes, dirties his face. ‘It’s so risky.’
‘She’s gonna be OK, they all will.’
Jonathan subtly rolls his eyes.
Steve looks away, stares at the trees where they rip the sun to pieces, make jagged debris of the light.
‘I’ll watch over him,’ he promises quietly. ‘We’ll all make it out if we work together.’
‘How would you know?’ Jonathan frowns then, looks down. ‘Sorry. I’m just… I hate this. For Will, for all of ‘em. They’re kids. They deserve better. And I keep trying to talk to Hopper about the gate, but he won’t hear it.’
‘He can’t imagine anything happening to her.’
Jonathan drinks more water, caps the bottle and tosses it into the backseat of the truck, door open.
‘If we can’t close the gate, that world is gonna spill in here.’ Steve waits, listens. ‘But Owens told me that when they were trying to control the gate before, beneath the labs, they used fire.’
‘Fire makes the gate close?’
‘It might, I don’t know. I guess we’ve got bigger things to focus on, huh?’ Jonathan huffs, tries to give Steve a smile, but it doesn’t land.
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘Thanks for the water.’
Steve pats his shoulder. ‘No problem, man.’
*
She looks the same as when he last saw her.
She looks kinda pristine too. Clothes intact, hair clean, no dirt, no blood.
‘I’m honestly astonished you remember my name,’ she says calmly, watching the screen as if the movie’s about to start any second. ‘Did we ever talk?’
Steve gets up, one arm around his middle which hurts the worst, ribs aching when he breathes in.
‘I—you’re—’
Barb looks at him.
‘Yeah, it’s just a little piece of me,’ she says, holding her finger and thumb up, almost touching. ‘Like whatever you left back in the real world, y’know? There’s pieces of us everywhere.’
‘Barb, you’re… you’re dead?’
‘Of course,’ she tells him.
‘Am I dead?’
‘Nah, you’ve still got a ways to go yet, Harrington,’ she tells him and pushes up from the chair. ‘C’mon, I’ve seen this one before. Let’s go for a walk.’
He follows.
*
‘Where did everything go?’
‘You mean the monsters? Most of ‘em died. He made them, so when you killed him, they couldn’t survive here without him.’
‘Do you think the ones in our world—?’
‘Is that what you care about? The others?’ she cuts across. ‘Last time I saw you, Steve Harrington, you didn’t care about anything except yourself.’
He doesn’t look away even though he wants to.
‘I’m so sorry for what happened to you,’ he tells her. ‘I—fuck, I should have been there. You were in my house and I should have been there to help.’
‘You were a little busy with Nancy.’
‘She was heartbroken about it. She still is.’
Barb looks at him, makes a funny face. ‘Steve. I’m just a hairbrush. I’m a lost button. I’m a shoelace. A little piece that got left behind. You don’t need to make me feel better.’
He swallows thickly. ‘I do.’
‘You’ve come a long way to die all alone, huh?’
It stings and he knows he deserves it, deserves worse. ‘I’m so sorry, Barb.’
She actually smiles a little. They’re leaving town now, coming to the hill before the trees.
The world before them is fading.
Even now, it’s somehow less than it was before.
‘What’s happening?’ he asks.
She stares for a long moment out at the barren horizon. Hawkins is decaying, fading, thinning.
‘What always needs to happen,’ she tells him. ‘Change.’
*
They walk for a while.
Maybe hours.
He can’t keep track.
Everything is grey, lifeless.
He misses the kids.
It’s an ache in his chest.
The way Nancy was crying.
The pale, stricken look on Jonathan’s face.
Can’t even think about Robin.
The last of the structures erode before his eyes, crumbling like ashes and collapsing in gentle heaps.
There’s almost nothing now but the ground and the sky.
No trees, no buildings, no rocks.
Even the ground is pure black.
The only thing that remains, is the moon.
Full and round, she shines bright and Steve takes what very little comfort he can from the single remaining constant in this flat-lining world.
That, and Barb.
They don’t really talk, but she walks with him wherever it is that they’re going.
‘Did you know you were gonna die?’ she asks after a while.
He looks at her.
‘I didn’t plan it.’
‘You stayed last. Pushed your friend through.’
‘I was kind of planning to light it from the other side,’ he tells her, trying to make it wry, but he’s got nothing left. ‘It didn’t really work out that way.’
‘Yeah, sometimes shit goes sideways.’
Steve nervously fiddles with the hem of his ruined tee. ‘Do you… can you sense anything in the other world? Our world? Do you know if they’re OK?’
‘I know once the gate closed, every monster that went through, died.’
‘OK,’ he says, mostly to himself. He’s thinking of the bats, of the kids screaming. ‘OK, that’s good.’
‘What about you?’
‘Huh?’
‘Aren’t you worried about you?’
He blinks, shakes himself. ‘Oh. Um, well.’ Not really. ‘Yeah, of course, just. I’ll figure somethin’ out.’
In this world with only the ground and the moon and Barb. He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t believe that he will.
He knows he’s gonna die here.
He looks around. ‘There’s nowhere to go now.’
‘Yeah,’ she agrees quietly, watching him.
‘When the world dies, will it let you go too?’
‘Eventually.’
‘How do you know all this?’
She looks away and then opens her hand. ‘I’m just a button, Steve,’ Barb tells him, holding a small one in her palm. He thinks it matches her shirt. ‘Just a small thing in a big place.’ She looks at him and smiles. ‘They matter, you know?’
Barb hands it to him.
She too crumbles away in a fine array of ash.
And only then does Steve let himself cry.
*
He walks.
There’s nothing else to do.
He has the button in the palm of his hand.
The silence is vast, yawning.
The moon is all he has left.
That, and a button.
But after a while, something catches the light up ahead and he notices it more and more. A tiny glint.
Mouth dry, body weak, he hurries towards it with energy he cannot afford to waste.
The ground is still jet black and smooth, like marble now. The sky is starless, the moon round and in full bloom.
He can see it, whatever it is.
Metal, small, he reaches it.
Bends to grab it.
The Zippo.
The lighter he’d used.
Knows it’s the same, would know it anywhere.
It’s got E.M scratched into the metal.
*
Two Months Ago
Eddie lights up.
Steve side eyes him.
Dustin’s off with Erica and Max, they’re deep in plan mode and Eddie’s just lurking around the other side of the RV, taking a minute, getting some air, some sweet fucking nicotine.
Eddie glances over, cracks a grin and then offers it. Steve takes it, even as he says, ‘Probably shouldn’t. They say they’re bad for you.’
‘There’s worse things,’ Eddie says, exhales and leans against the RV closing his eyes.
The sun is starting to set.
Birds are singing, the wind blowing through the trees is gentle. Steve gets smoke in his lungs, fuck, he missed that so much.
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Steve hands it back. They’re sharing.
‘You nervous, man?’
‘Who me?’ Steve asks, mimicking Eddie’s pose, leaning against the outer wall of what they stole, sunset before them. ‘Nah.’
Eddie snorts a little. ‘Brave and pretty, huh?’
Steve lets his eyes fall shut. ‘Fuck off. You?’
‘I’m too hot to be pretty.’
He laughs again, they both do.
‘Nervous, I mean. Are you nervous?’
Steve opens his eyes when Eddie’s quiet for a while. Looks at him, watches him. He does that more than he should.
Eddie’s still got a little smile in his eyes, even at the corners of his mouth when he says, ‘Terrified.’
*
He’s got the lighter in one hand, Barb’s button in the other. The bronzy-gold metal catches the moonlight, glints and gleams and Steve rubs his thumb over the casing, feeling out the scratches.
‘Hey,’ he says to it, eyes filling with tears for stupid fucking reasons because he’s literally going to die of agonising thirst in a voided wasteland, but sure, this is what gets him by the throat. ‘Found you.’
And when he cracks it, the flame fires to life, reliable as ever. It’s warm and gold and he likes the little sound it makes. Consummation, the hiss of the burn.
He caps it.
Holds it tight, despite the heat against his palm, maybe because of it.
And then he jumps out of his fucking skin, skeleton pure making a break for freedom, because someone behind him says, ‘Found you.’
He whirls around, stumbles.
It’s…
‘Oh my god.’
Eddie Munson looks like he’s seen better days.
Really, truly.
He’s not pristine like Barb was.
He’s beat to shit and filthy and Steve can smell him and it’s not especially pleasant and he’s wearing the same clothes, except drastically less of them.
He’s got on the ruined tee, the Hellfire one, plus his jeans but nothing else. His hair is tied back, messy and in need of a wash.
But it’s… it’s him.
Steve stares, slack jawed.
‘Eddie?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Are you…?’ Steve shakes his head. ‘You’re dead too?’
‘I don’t know,’ Eddie tells him, trying to smile, but it’s weak and it’s tremulous and it cannot hold here, in this dark world with only the moon. ‘Are you?’
Steve shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’ His bottom lip wobbles, everything inside him gone tight. He swallows hard. ‘Can I touch you?’
‘Please,’ Eddie breathes.
They move together awkwardly, fingers extended like they’ve never touched a human before, like they’ve never touched each other before and when their knuckles meet, Steve lets out a small sound of desperate relief.
Eddie’s warm and alive and he smells not great and his hair needs a brush. He’s not pristine like Barb was. ‘You feel alive.’
‘So do you, man,’ Eddie says, pale and shaky. ‘I was… I was stuck, they had me in a place, in this…’ He cuts off, eyes slamming shut. ‘Doesn’t matter, it’s gone now. You’re here, though? What happened?’
‘Hang on, I just…’ Steve says, looking at the Zippo. He has to be sure. ‘I’m just gonna—will you take it?’
Eddie offers his hand again, palm up.
Steve places it there.
Waits.
Prays.
‘Uh, thanks?’ Eddie says after a few beats, smile in his voice if nowhere else.
Steve exhales carefully, relief thick inside.
‘Just wanted to be sure.’
He puts Barb’s button in his pocket.
Then he flings himself around Eddie as gently as he can bear to. Eddie wraps him up tight, squeezes him.
‘Fuck,’ he utters. ‘I—I thought I was all alone, but then I saw this light and I followed it and then I saw you, but I didn’t know it was you until… until I was close enough, fuck, I’m sorry, Steve.’
Steve just hugs him harder.
He’s got tears in his eyes.
Thorn in his heart.
‘I’m so fucking glad you’re alive.’
‘Me too,’ Eddie says, voice shaking. ‘Me too.’
*
There’s nothing to do, nowhere to go.
So they walk together, following nothing.
No North.
No stars.
Just the moon.
And the ground.
And them.
Eddie stays close, keeps swaying into Steve’s space like he did before, only not playing this time. Swaying to touch, to emphasise, to feel.
Steve does the same.
They’re talking stupid shit.
They’re talking about the world they lost.
They’re talking about the kids.
And it hurts, all of it, but it’s good too.
Steve’s not alone.
And neither is Eddie.
Nothing really matters anymore, it’s just the two of them in this nowhere land. Eddie talks fast, like he’s hyper, but his hands are trembling and Steve knows they’re both gonna die soon anyway, so during Eddie’s outlandish recounting of how he met Dustin “Actually” Henderson, Lucas “Hot-Shot” Sinclair and Mike “No Tact” Wheeler, Steve reaches down and gently links their hands together.
Eddie’s voice catches, but he doesn’t stop.
He just grips hard, thumb rubbing over knuckles, as he goes on.
Steve smiles.
Walking together.
Listening, talking, laughing.
Sharing time, what little they have left.
It’s better than he expected.
More than he deserves.
*
They sit after a while.
Side by side, still touching.
Steve empties his pockets.
‘Oh my god, Harrington,’ Eddie moans when Steve pulls out the crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds and there are two inside. ‘I fuckin’ love you!’
Steve rolls his eyes, laughs, even while his cheeks burn brighter than the cherry as it gleams. They share, rather than having one each.
He also finds a few coins, some string, a gum wrapper and the button.
They set it all out atop the glittering black marble. ‘What a hoard,’ Steve comments, passing Eddie the cigarette when it’s his turn. ‘We’re the richest people on the planet.’
Eddie snorts and gets a coin, performs a little flip. ‘The only people on the planet. Heads or tails?’
Steve stares at him, feels warm. ‘Tails.’
‘Ah, bad luck, my friend.’
‘What would I have won if I got it right?’
‘An all inclusive vacation to the destination of your choice,’ Eddie bemoans. ‘Care to try again?’
Steve smiles. ‘Sure.’
Over and over they play.
It’s childish, downright stupid.
The more it goes on, the funnier it gets.
Because Steve cannot guess right a single fucking time. Eddie has tears in his eyes, can barely breathe as he says, ‘OK, no, stop, be serious now, this is your time, you ready? I feel it. C-call it.’
Steve wipes under his eyes, ribs hurting for beautiful reasons. ‘Heads.’
Eddie flips, catches it, and he’s crying with laughter as he shows Steve it’s tails. Steve can’t breathe, he leans against Eddie’s shoulder, gasping. Laughter hurts when it’s this fucking funny.
They laugh until they can’t anymore.
Until Steve’s so tired, he just has his head on Eddie’s shoulder, arms around his middle.
Until he feels like a kid, being carried into another room. He misses that. He misses being carried. He misses when a glass broke and a grown-up would tell him to stay back. He misses having a best friend he could tell his secrets to. He misses falling asleep in the car coming back from the beach.
He misses everything.
Even though he’s happy.
‘I’m so tired,’ he whispers to Eddie, who shifts to better hold him.
‘You should sleep,’ Eddie tells him voice soft.
Steve nods, tears slipping down his cheeks.
He’s going to die.
They both are, probably.
Eddie lies down, doesn’t let go of Steve.
‘C’mon, I’ve got you,’ he tells Steve.
Steve snuggles close, head on Eddie’s chest like a pillow except so much better. Warm and living and breathing.
‘I’m so glad it’s you,’ he says, closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see anything as he nuzzles Eddie. ‘And I’m so sorry it’s you.’
Eddie’s arms are strong.
His heart beats steady.
He kisses Steve’s hair.
‘I’m not.’
*
He opens his eyes.
It’s so fucking bright and everything hurts.
‘Ow,’ he croaks, painfully thirsty.
Then he jerks gracelessly, eyes flying open as he feels around for…
‘Eddie.’
‘I’m here, I’m right here,’ Eddie says soothingly.
And he is.
Only the ground isn’t jet black anymore.
It’s grassy.
Vast.
Soft.
And the sun is above them.
The sun.
Grass and sky, bright blue sky.
But nothing else.
‘What the fuck,’ Steve utters, clinging to Eddie. ‘Where did the moon go?’
‘I got no clue,’ Eddie answers honestly. ‘But we should maybe move on. Sun’s hot.’
‘Yeah, shit yeah it is.’
Eddie helps him up. ‘Over there, see? There’s something.’
Steve squints.
He sees it too.
Really hopes it’s not desert shimmers.
‘OK, yeah,’ he says.
Eddie has the coins, the string, the Zippo and the button. ‘You ready?’
Steve swallows. He’s so thirsty it hurts.
‘Can we…?’
Eddie takes his hand without hesitation. ‘Let’s go.’
*
They walk for a long time.
The grass is growing.
It’s getting thicker, wilder.
The sun is moving.
Clouds are forming.
‘Seriously, what the hell?’ Steve asks more than once, thinks of Barb when she said change.
‘Got no clue, man, but we’re doing good. You need to rest?’
‘Nah, I’m OK?’
Their hands are sweaty, but they don’t let go.
Steve can’t.
He thinks Eddie can’t either.
And then the thing comes into shape.
Steve squints, cannot believe it.
‘Holy shit,’ he utters, breaking into a run and pulling Eddie with him because wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. ‘It’s the truck!’
The truck Jonathan was working on.
The one they narrowly drove through the gate when El opened it.
It’s banged up, got black stuff across the hood from the first monster they ran into.
Steve gets the door open, the metal is hot. ‘Ouch, fuck, holy shit!’
He gets inside, finds it hotter than outside but at least it’s out of the direct sun. Eddie gets in too.
The keys are still in the ignition.
But Steve doesn’t touch them yet.
He reaches into the backseat with trembling fingers and finds…
‘Oh my god.’
A still half full water bottle.
‘Holy fucking shit,’ Eddie says with quiet reverence. ‘OK, listen to me, take it slow. Not a drop wasted, right? None of that like you see in movies.’
Steve nods frantically, opens the bottle and then immediately passes it to Eddie, who looks scandalised.
‘As if, Harrington,’
‘You’ve been here for two months.’
‘And I had water for two months. Albeit gross water. Come on, you first.’
Steve’s too desperate to protest.
*
They scour the truck.
Find a few useful items, another bottle of water, almost full, plus some old Halloween candy in the glove compartment.
Eddie sternly rations the water, and limits the candy.
They’re holding hands when they start the engine of the truck.
And when it bursts to life, they yell and hug and cheer for no fucking reason at all.
The grass is thick, the ground is becoming uneven. Clouds are gathering above.
There are trees growing in the distance.
Steve wants to see them.
They drive there, holding hands still.
*
The trees are young, but they’re growing before their eyes. Leaves unfurling, trunks thickening.
It’s all very slow, but it’s happening.
They park the truck and sit beneath the shade of the biggest one, watching it grow together.
Eddie talks about trees and animals and his childhood and his favourite part of the weekend.
Steve smiles throughout, offers his own when asked. Talks about Saturday mornings, all the things he loved best.
A little bug crawls up his knee.
Steve marvels.
Eddie leans over.
‘Hey, little guy,’ he says. Then he looks at Steve and beams. ‘We three.’
*
By the time it starts raining, the tree has apples.
They’re the best thing Steve’s ever tasted.
Fresh and juicy, he eats them core and all.
Trees are growing all over the place.
The world is wild.
And above, a storm gathers.
They walk through the rain together, still holding hands, just walking for the sake of it.
The truck isn’t far behind.
And when lightning flashes, thunder crashes and Eddie cheers loudly, raises his hand high. Steve does the same and laughs when Eddie gets his other hand, makes a circle of their connection and starts to spin Steve around and around.
They fall in the wet, sodden grass.
The storm rages.
And the earth smells beautiful.
Eddie’s on top of Steve.
Breathless laughter and the rain that slides down his nose, onto Steve’s own.
Steve’s arms are all around Eddie.
He feels so safe.
‘I missed you,’ he tells him.
Eddie swallows, foreheads resting. ‘I loved you.’
Steve feels like all the air got punched out of him in the best way, like he fell, like he’s falling.
The sky is full of chaos.
Chaos will always remind Steve of Eddie now.
And he can’t think straight, cannot get his mind clear of anything except the other boy atop him.
The feel of him.
The shape.
The way his heart beats in time with Steve’s.
‘Since when?’
‘Since always,’ Eddie tells him.
They hug in the grass and the storm makes merry music and Steve thinks if they have to die, let it be now, let it be this moment right now.
But they don’t.
Eddie pulls back eventually, touches Steve’s face. ‘You’re cold.’
*
They use the Zippo to make a fire.
Beneath the shelter of a tree, they burn what they can from the Truck which isn’t much.
Paper, a bit of wood from the back.
They’ve got their arms around each other.
It’s nice.
It’s strange.
They don’t talk so much now.
The world grows all around them.
It’s not Hawkins anymore.
That’s OK.
They have each other.
They fall asleep with their backs against the tree.
*
They drive until the truck runs out of gas.
They have bottles to collect rainwater now.
They have means of food and fire.
They can survive.
They walk for days.
They sleep wrapped up in one another.
They talk and they share and they take care of each other. At a waterfall, they swim naked together and Steve pushes Eddie’s hair back, he makes a comb with his fingers to relieve the knots and Eddie just watches him, his face, this strange far off look in his eyes.
I loved you.
Curls free of tangles, Steve trails his fingers over Eddie’s cool, clean skin, over his cheek and close to his mouth.
The water crashes, it ripples around them.
Their clothes and treasures are up on the nearby rock and they’re good swimmers, they tread where it’s deepest.
Steve has never felt so fucking alive.
‘Can I kiss you?’
He doesn’t know why he says it.
He just… can’t not.
Eddie swallows, lashes fluttering and there is such weight in the gaze they share, in this world made for two, in this pool of freshwater where they can drink their fill and swim and be as they are without fear of recourse.
‘Do you want to?’
Steve nods, hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
Skin cool and clean and scarred.
‘If you want it too?’
Eddie makes a pained little face.
And then it’s lips to lips.
Mouths making kisses in the water.
Holding, touching.
They kiss soft, gentle, deep.
It’s everything.
It’s everything.
And up on the rocks, naked and chilly, they find a patch of warm sun to be in together. Steve is in Eddie’s lap and they can’t stop kissing, touching, playing, smiling. Messing up, laughing into the kisses that never end, teasing and playing until it’s too hard to play anymore, until it’s desperate and dense, this thing that stretches between them.
Making pleasure with hands and skin, hearts beating fast, blood going where it decides is best and Eddie tastes like all the good things Steve forgot about back in the other world.
Rainwater and apples and the spit from a person who wants to kiss you.
They come together, kissing and kissing until they’re sleepy. Skin and bones and hearts and blood and sticky sweet come tasted from the tips of fingers while giggling and teasing and making up little names for one another because it doesn’t matter.
Except it does.
They fall asleep together by the waterfall.
And when they wake, Steve realises he can’t die.
Neither of them can.
They have to live.
*
They wander for days.
It feels like weeks, and maybe it is.
The world is lush now.
Thriving.
Beautiful.
They could stay here.
It gets dark at night and the moon is waning. It’s the only way to track time. Animals roam. Some familiar, some less so.
But it’s just they two.
And it’s not enough.
There’s a world back there waiting for them.
So after three moons together, after three months of loving and fucking and playing and creating, of talking, sharing, kissing, keeping, making bracelets from braided long grass, eating what they find, sleeping beneath the emerging stars… Steve says, ‘We need to find a way home.’
And Eddie sighs, kisses his jaw.
‘I know.’
‘I’m scared, though.’
‘Why?’
Steve plays with his hair.
‘Same reason you are.’
That this isn’t real.
That Eddie isn’t real.
That maybe they’ll get back to the real world and this… this will not be what it seems.
But they have to try.
‘I think,’ Eddie says slowly. ‘I was waiting for you here. For someone. I remember the moon telling me things when I was… when it was bad. She kept telling me to hold on, just a little longer.’ He kisses Steve again, they kiss so often, all the time. ‘Wherever you go, I go too.’
*
Steve waits for the full moon.
They both do.
And then beneath the tree they like best, the one that fed them first, he looks up at her.
He’s had this theory for a while now.
Just this niggling feeling he can’t shake.
About what this place is.
About what it does.
Eddie is wrapped around him from behind, hand over his heart.
Steve’s got this little piece of string in his hand.
Eddie knows what it’s from.
Why Steve keeps it.
What it means to him.
Only Eddie knows.
And the moon.
And the stars.
And Steve.
‘We need to go home now.’
*
And nothing happens.
The moon just shines and the winds of this world blow gentle, calm and clean.
Nothing happens for a long time.
Not until long after they fall asleep in one another’s arms, like always, does anything change again.
But when it does, Steve can feel it.
Because the string in his hand is pulling.
He opens his eyes, looks down.
It’s grown.
Stretched.
Taut.
‘Eddie,’ he whispers.
The other man wakes quickly, alert.
‘Holy shit.’
The string leads out in front, way in front.
Light, bright and unforgettable.
They get up quickly.
Steve doesn’t let go of the string.
Doesn’t let go of Eddie either.
*
“I Know The End”
When I get back I'll lay around
Then I'll get up and lay back down
Romanticize a quiet life
There's no place like my room
But you had to go
I know, I know, I know
Like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore
Not even the burnouts are out here anymore
And you had to go
I know, I know, I know
Out in the park, we watch the sunset
Talking on a rusty swing set
After a while you went quiet and I got mean
I'm always pushing you away from me
But you come back with gravity
And when I call, you come home
A bird in your teeth
-Phoebe Bridgers
Their house is messy.
It’s full of fairy lights, it’s got plants all around. Flowers, little trees that when big enough they’ll go outside to live in the earth.
Their house is kind of constantly in a state of needing shit done, but they don’t mind, they love it like that.
They kiss in the kitchen, let the sauce burn and laugh about it later when Eddie pretends it’s delicious.
They swap clothes to avoid washing.
They skinny dip in the lake in summer.
They sing when out in public and Steve never fails to touch every tree they walk past.
They hold hands.
They play with one another’s hands all the time.
And Eddie will whisper to Steve, ‘You were the string, Stevie, you know that?’ and Steve will smile, roll his eyes and kiss him.
Their house is messy.
Their life is chaos.
Their love is wild, unapologetic and happily gross and the sun of this world shines down and the moon of these skies smiles to see them chasing one another through the trees.
And Nancy has the button, she around her neck every day.
And Steve wears the string tied around the bracelet Eddie made for him from the long grass of a world that blossomed to keep them alive.
And they keep the Zippo between them, E.M one side, S.H the other because they share everything now.
It’s been a year.
Steve can’t wake to wake up each day.
Because life is short, like string.
And that… that’s what makes the world a beautiful place to be, he thinks.
*