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“Wanna see a magic trick?” Eddie asks, waving a deck of cards in front of Steve, eyebrows raised and mouth stretched into a flat line. He’s trying to distract himself. It’s not working, but he’s persistent. Stubborn might be a better word. Steve’s been there. But there’s not a thing in the world that can distract you from real life monsters and someone dying at your house. Cards are a good attempt though.
The deck is worn, with frayed yellowed edges, and it’s being held together by an equally worn red rubber band that’s one use away from snapping. Steve would know, it broke the last time too. And every other time before that. It always snapped as Eddie was wrapping the cards back up. Will be wrapping the cards up? Whatever. It’s confusing, and it doesn’t really make any sense, but it doesn’t really have to make sense, it just has to work.
Steve thought it was a dream the first time, a vision or a memory, his mind playing tricks on him. It felt cruel, seeing Eddie again so long after it all happened, years after he’d come to terms with the fact that 1, Eddie was his soulmate, and 2, his soulmate was dead.
He’d dreamed of Eddie before of course, but never that version of him. It was always some other version, where they both had crows feet and gray hairs and age spots, like they got to grow together and share a life. Like he was seeing flashes of the life they were supposed to have.
Seeing Eddie at 20, before either of them even knew they were soulmates? It was, well, Steve’s not really sure what to call it. Jarring at the very least. Heartbreaking maybe? Bittersweet? Whatever it was it isn’t now, now it’s hope because Steve knows it’s not a dream, it’s a second chance. Or a seventh or an eighth. He’s not keeping count. Knowing exactly how many times he’s failed might make him lose hope, and he refuses to let that happen.
Steve used to believe it was the hope that kills you, the belief that it was all going to work out would inevitably make you slip up and cause some great devastation. He doesn’t think that now. Now he thinks hope is their greatest weapon. Vecna feeds on fear, on guilt, on shame, on insecurities. Hope is a perfect antithesis of Vecna. Hope is the light in the darkness that led Max out of the visions when Kate Bush came on. Hope is El getting her powers back. Hope is Hopper being alive.
Hope is being given a chance to save Eddie.
It’s not the hope that kills you, it’s the lack of hope.
“You gonna impress me, Munson?” It’s teasing and flirtatious. Steve didn’t do that the first time around, too focused on defeating Vecna and figuring out how to keep everyone in one piece, not to mention his weird thing with Nancy. He does now though, never lets himself miss a chance to make Eddie hide behind his hair or blush. If he runs out of second chances, at the very least he wants to make sure he has that exact shade of pink memorized.
“‘Course,” Eddie responds, displaying an impressive balance of confidence and shyness as he tucks his head down and bites his bottom lip. He untwists the rubber band and flicks it at Steve who just lets it hit him and rolls his eyes. It falls to his lap and he brushes it off onto the space between them. “Prepare to be amazed.”
Steve knows the outcome but he’s always amazed, Eddie is simply amazing.
“As far as we both know, this is just a regular deck of cards from the junk drawer of this RV we stole.” Eddie shows off the cards, front and back, spreading them out for Steve to see. All the cards are different and he’s pretty sure all the cards are there minus the jokers. “Agreed?”
“That’s what it looks like to me.”
“Good.” Eddie nods and starts shuffling the cards on the cushion between them. Steve didn’t used to be very good at shuffling cards but he is now. He’s got years of practice using playing cards as a way to fidget. Eddie just spreads them out and mixes them all around like a toddler who’s hands aren’t quite big enough to hold the deck.
Eddie knows how to shuffle, he’s just choosing to be a dork right now. Later, before they put up the cards but after the magic trick, Eddie will start shuffling them over and over while they talk, bending the cards into a perfect bridge and letting them fall into a perfect stack. He won’t even have to look at them while he does it and despite having seen it many times before Steve will be enamored and fail to keep his eyes away from those dexterous fingers.
The cards get collected back into a stack and Eddie fans them out. He holds them towards Steve with a straight arm and dramatically turns away, shielding his face with his other hand. “Pick a card, any card! I promise I’m not looking.”
He’s never picked a card from the same place in the array. Sometimes he picks from a little to the left, sometimes dead center, sometimes he counts a specific number of cards from the top or bottom of the deck. This time he just grabs one randomly. It’s the King of Hearts. It always is. No matter where he draws the card from, it’s always the King of Hearts.
“Make sure you got it memorized and then put it back wherever you want, got it?”
“Got it,” Steve says with a nod despite Eddie not even looking at him right now.
What follows is a very simple magic trick that Steve vaguely remembers being taught in third or fourth grade by a magician that was hired for some school fundraiser or something. A magician never reveals their secrets, unless, of course, you ask politely.
Eddie holds out a card proudly, “Is this your card?”
“Damn Munson, maybe all those people were right about you practicing the dark arts,” Steve jokes. “That was some serious magic right there.”
Eddie snorts and flicks the card in Steve’s face. Steve flops back on the bench seat like he’s been mortally wounded.
“You’re so weird,” Eddie “The Freak” Munson has the audacity to say.
Steve props himself up on his elbows, looking at Eddie with what Robin calls his ‘babe-beacon,’ an intentionally crooked smile and soft eyes. “It’s all part of my charm.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Harrington.”
You don’t know any better! Steve wants to shout. I am flirting with you, dumbass!
Eddie does not have mind powers and thus cannot read Steve’s mind.
Steve tosses the card back to Eddie who doesn’t flop backwards like a weirdo and instead just rolls his eyes and starts shuffling the cards.
The others are taking their sweet time gathering supplies and Steve is grateful. It gives him time to think. He needs to figure out what needs to change for everything to work out, for Eddie to live and everyone else to too.
No matter where he draws the card from, it’s the King of Hearts. That’s gotta be a clue or something, right? The universe’s subtle way of steering him in the right direction but what the hell is the King of Hearts supposed to mean?
It’s quiet aside from the repeating shuffling of the cards. Eddie switches his technique a few times, starts with an overhand shuffle, then Hindu shuffle, then landing on a riffle shuffle. He splits the deck in half and places the two stacks on his thigh, gripping each half with his thumbs over the top edge, his middle and ring fingers supporting the bottoms, and his pinky finger on the back edge. He’s quick in his movements, gently bending each half of the deck so it becomes concave with the middle of each deck bending inwards. Then he riffles the deck with his thumbs, bending each half even more and letting his thumbs move up the edges of the cards. He finishes with a cascade, bending the cards in the opposite direction that they were before and keeping his thumbs on the top to keep the card in line before releasing so the cards fall into a pile. He straightens out the deck and repeats the pattern again, switching back to cutting the deck or doing a different style of shuffle every 3 or 4 times.
The deck is probably about as random as it could possibly be at this point and Steve has no doubt in his mind that, if asked to pick a random card, he’d still draw the King of Hearts. Half of Steve is convinced that the entire 52 card deck is just the King of Hearts.
He knows it’s not. He saw the cards when Eddie fanned them out.
“You know,” Eddie says after what feels like hours, “I think the King of Hearts kinda suits you.”
Eddie’s never said that before in any of the other versions. Timelines? Whatever. Steve’s always the first to speak, he’s not sure what’s different this time. Maybe Steve just took too long to break the silence. Maybe if Steve had just waited a bit longer all those other times Eddie would have said something.
“‘Cause the whole ‘King Steve’ thing?” It comes out bitter. That’s not who Steve is anymore, not who he’s been since 1983. It’s been years since then no matter how you look at it. Here in 1986 with Eddie, it's been three years, seventeen if Steve counts everything he remembers.
He wonders, not for the first time, if when this is all over he’s going to return to the year 2000 or if he’ll stay in this younger body. He’s not sure what he’d prefer. Spending those years with Eddie would be nothing short of a miracle and adapting to a future where Eddie would probably know more about Steve than Steve does of Eddie would be strange. But at the same time, Steve is not nineteen anymore. He’s thirty-three mentally. Chronologically? It’s all so fucking confusing. Because mentally, here, when he’s in the past, it feels like the present, he feels nineteen. He has all his memories from those fourteen years but they don’t really feel like memories. It feels more like he read a book or watched a movie, absorbed some story that was really well written and made him believe he was part of it.
He stopped trying to figure it out a few times ago, it doesn’t really matter. Saving Eddie is all that matters.
“No,” Eddie replies, soft and nonchalant. “No, not really. Maybe I would have thought so before this week, but I know more about you now. Not a lot, but enough.”
“Are you going to explain it?” Steve asks, trying not to sound annoyed or impatient though he’s not sure he succeeds. Maybe Eddie can help explain what the universe is trying to tell him. Maybe Eddie can help save himself.
Eddie laughs a little and glances up at Steve just briefly, a soft smile on his face. “My mom used to read cards,” he offers. “You ever heard of tarot?”
“Some, I guess.”
Steve’s pretty sure anything he’s heard has been complete religious propaganda, but he’s heard of it, heard the word tarot at the very least. Moreso after Vecna and moving out of Hawkins in the 90’s.
“Well my dad wasn’t a big fan and made her throw out her decks, Satanic Panic and all that, but she knew how to read with playing cards too. Dad was too much of a gambler to ever toss those. My mom taught me how to read some, though I was never as good as her. Always got the meanings a little bit wrong.” There’s something fond and impossibly sad about the way Eddie talks about his mom. His voice tinged with guilt and maybe some regret but still dripping with love. “Kings are… leaders. They’re seen as experts, masters of their suit.” Eddie keeps shuffling, his focus completely on the cards rather than on Steve. “Hearts are all about emotions, and, like, relationships, and intuition. The King of Hearts represents a leader who blends wisdom and compassion. A perfect balance of head and heart.”
“And you think that fits me?” Steve has never felt intelligent, emotionally or, like, mentally. Even before all the head trauma he only really passed his classes because he was on the basketball team and the swim team and the teachers didn’t want to risk him not being able to attend a game or a meet due to grades. They were always super lenient with him.
“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs. “I mean, you obviously care about those kids, Buckley and Wheeler too. Every choice you’ve made since all this started has been to protect the people you care about, the people you love. But you don’t make stupid decisions either. You think it through and you listen to other people. You’re bitchy and you groan about being the babysitter but I can tell you love it. They look up to you, even baby Wheeler who would kill me where I stand if he knew I told you all the praises he sings about you.” Eddie stops shuffling and looks at Steve dead in the eye. “They’re damn lucky to have you care about them.”
I care about you too, Steve wants to say. But that would be weird. From Eddie’s perspective it’s only been a few days, if that, and Steve would have no reason to say that if not for the time fuckery going on.
The King of Hearts is a clue. Steve’s figured that out at least. He’s pretty sure that doesn’t make him particularly wise as Eddie claimed but it’s something. There’s something about emotions, and logic, and balance, and leadership, and thinking about it kinda makes Steve’s head hurt. It’s like reading that Hobbit book Dustin and Eddie love so much. He’s read it nearly twenty times by now, trying in some vain attempt to feel close to Eddie after losing him before he even had him, and he understands it finally. But the first time he read it none of the words really made all that much sense and the metaphors were all lost on him. Dustin had to explain over half the book as Steve was trudging through it.
This is kinda like that. He knows there’s meaning in there somewhere, something about what the King of Hearts stands for or the story it tells has some significance, but he can’t parse out what exactly.
He wants to tell Eddie, explain the whole situation with the time travel and them being soulmates and everything else. But last time he told anyone what was happening everything ended so much worse than in the original run. Not only did he lose Eddie, but he lost Robin and Dustin and Max and Erica too. Nancy and Lucas and Steve were all severely injured. He’s not even sure the others made it back to Hawkins. So he doesn’t tell people anymore. He’s not sure what that might do, thinks maybe all that bloodshed was his punishment for telling people.
Steve says quiet for a little too long, it seems, and Eddie asks, “You think we’re gonna make it out of this?”
“Yes,” Steve responds, with no hesitation or room for argument.
“You seem pretty sure,” Eddie laughs, startled, it seems, by Steve’s conviction but still disbelieving. It makes sense. It all seems rather hopeless and Steve’s already failed a number of times. “You can’t know that, though.”
Eddie ducks his head, chin resting against his chest. Steve can’t help but reach out, placing a hand gently on Eddie’s cheek and urging him to turn towards Steve. Steve catches his gaze and holds it, watching the slight shake and shimmer of Eddie’s eyes, like he’s trying not to cry, like he’s been seconds away from crying since he ran out of his trailer.
“I’ll make sure of it.”
After a moment, Eddie shifts his gaze, eyes flickering from Steve’s face to the hand that’s still resting on Eddie’s cheek and back again. “Okay,” he says, acceptance or forced delusion, Steve can’t be sure. Maybe Steve is just that convincing. “Okay.”
Steve drops his hand before he does something stupid like kiss Eddie or pull him into a hug. Eddie starts shuffling again, slower this time, just shuffling to shuffle rather than using it as a distraction.
“What about you?” Steve asks when the quietness gets too loud and the shuffling becomes less comforting and more grating.
Eddie looks up, “What about me?”
“What’s uh- what care fits you best? In the deck, I mean.”
Eddie takes a deep breath and slumps back against the window behind him, head hitting the glass with a dull thump.
“Ain't that a question.” It’s more like a statement than a question, something rhetorical to give him more time to think so Steve stays quiet.
Eddie holds the cards above his face to spread them out and rearrange them a bit, moving some out of the way like he’s really putting a lot of thought into it. He probably is. If there’s one thing Steve knows about Eddie it’s how beautiful his brain is, how creative his mind is.
Steve takes the time to admire Eddie. Watches the rise and fall of his chest and keeps himself from reaching out to touch a particularly bouncy looking curl. Eddie’s brows are furrowed in thought and his bottom lip is tucked in between his teeth. Steve wonders if he always does that when he’s thinking, planning campaigns or writing songs. That would explain the little dents he has on his bottom lip.
“King of Clubs, maybe.”
“You gonna explain it?”
“I’ll tell you when we get out of this. You said we would, so I’ll tell you later.”
Steve can’t wait. He wants Eddie to tell him everything he knows about playing cards and what they can mean. He never wants to stop learning about Eddie and everything that exists in his beautiful brain.
These last few attempts have been heartbreaking, losing every time despite how he tries. But at the same time it’s been somewhat of a blessing, getting to make different choices and say different things and learn more about Eddie.
Eddie puts ketchup on his mac and cheese, but only when it’s Kraft. Eddie has a soft spot for Madonna and Bruce Springsteen. Eddie fixes his own van whenever he can and uses the mechanic shop’s equipment when he can’t just fix it out in front of the trailer. Gary the shop owner keeps trying to convince Eddie to take on an apprenticeship but Eddie is determined to finish high school. Gary said he’d wait. Eddie’s favorite mug is the first one that Wayne got for him, it’s Garfield. Eddie doesn’t even really like Garfield but he can’t bring himself to tell Wayne so he keeps getting Garfield themed gifts. He treasures them simply because they came from Wayne. Eddie plays guitar but he tried to learn the drums once and Gareth banned him from ever trying again because he was so atrocious. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. And there’s so much more that he’s desperate to learn. He wants the chance to learn it.
“I can’t wait,” Steve breathed.
Eddie smiles, something soft and hopeful, then starts messing with the cards again. He’s playing a game, pulling off a few cards and either placing them back in the stack or setting them down. Steve’s watched him play before and always thought about asking Eddie to explain it but he kind of likes not knowing how to play.
“You ever think about soulmates?” Steve asks, surprising Eddie and also himself.
Eddie snorts, exasperated and fully caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, sometimes. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering, I guess. Kinda strange how it all works. How everyone’s signifier is different, unique to the match. My parents were colorblind until they met each other but I could always see color so I guess it’s not a hereditary thing. Robin says her dad has a birthmark in the shape of a bird and her mom heard bird songs when they met. That’s why they named her Robin.”
There’s a loose thread on the waistband of Steve’s pants. He picks at it, tugs a bit but it doesn’t snap off. Usually, when he’s messed with it in a few other iterations where he has, it snaps off easily enough. It’s tougher this time and he gives up trying to yank it off.
“Do you- uh- do you know who yours is?” It sounds like Eddie doesn’t know how to navigate the conversation. It makes sense, people don’t really talk about it all that much.
Yes, Steve wants to say, it’s you. But he doesn’t really know the best way to answer. He does. He knows exactly who his soulmate is but he only found out when Eddie said “Make him pay,” the first time around. Steve was born with the words inscribed in sloppy handwriting on his chest over his heart, apparently marking his soulmate’s, Eddie’s, last words to Steve. He could never bring himself to check Eddie’s chest in the after, too worried that the bats ripped away the flesh with the words “You guys are just decoys,” or whatever it was he’s said in the different iterations. “Please just run.” “Stay safe.” “If you die, Munson, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” “I will.”
But then again, Steve was never the one who died and he’s always kept talking to Eddie, even when he was gone so he’s not really sure what constitutes “last words.” Is it the last words you hear or the last words they say?
Is Eddie’s soulmate indicator even the same as Steve’s? People can be soulmates with different indicators, it happens all the time. Maybe Eddie already knows it’s Steve.
“I’ve got two. Robin’s one. Platonic, capital P but I’ve got another,” he responds instead.
“You know who the other is?”
“I think I might,” he says, doing his best to avoid eye-contact lest he give something away. “What about you?”
“Just the one,” Eddie answers. “And I know who I’d like it to be.”
They’ve never really talked about Eddie’s preferences, who he’s liked, who he would like. Steve usually steers clear of the topic to avoid the heartache. He’s really not sure why he asked, why he brought up the topic at all.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll tell them if we make it out of this.” It’s mumbled a bit, seemingly not meant for Steve’s ears, but it rings and echos. We. Eddie said “we.” And that could mean anything, really, it doesn’t mean that the person he’s hoping it is is here with them, it doesn’t mean it’s Steve, but it echos. And with every echo the hope bubbling in Steve’s chest builds and builds and presses on his lungs in a way that’s almost uncomfortable.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate, Eddie.”
They chat idly for a few more minutes until the others join up again. Eddie retrieves the red rubber band and Steve waits for it to snap as Eddie twists it one final time around the deck.
It doesn’t break.
---
“Don’t be mad.” It’s the first thing Eddie says when Steve walks through the door. He was only gone for a few hours to help Robin plan her date. Steve kind of wants to ask how Eddie managed to find trouble in only a few hours. Problem is, Eddie is a master of getting into trouble. A few hours is plenty of time.
“What did you do?”
Eddie doesn’t respond but there is a quiet bark from the direction of the guest bathroom so he doesn’t really need to.
Steve sighs, all fight leaving his body. He’s not mad, he’s not even surprised. “Alright, what’s it’s name?”
“Frodo.” Eddie doesn’t even look guilty anymore. “He’s really sweet!”
“Not as sweet as me, I hope?”
“Nothing’s as sweet as you, Babycakes!”
---
“Do you know who your other soulmate is?” Robin asks.
They talk about the idea of soulmates pretty regularly, share theories and talk about the history. She’s only ever brought up his other soulmate once, and it was only to ask if he had a romantic one like she did. They found out they were each others’ platonic soulmate about a week after Starcourt. They hadn’t realized when it actually happened because of all the Russian drugs making them high off their asses. He’d always assumed he just had the one soulmate, whoever the words on his chest belonged to, but he and Robin had a touch activated bond too.
Ever since they held hands on that roof they’ve had an extremely intuitive connection to each other. They can’t exactly read each other's minds but it’s a near thing. They can always tell how the other is feeling and they’re pretty attuned to each other’s micro-expressions. Sometimes they don’t need to talk to have a full conversation. The kids find it annoying, which Steve and Robin find amusing.
“If I was a playing card, which one would I be?” He’s blatantly avoiding the question and they both know it. He’d just rather not explain it all. Not right now, at least not until they all make it out of this.
“King of Hearts,” Robin answers, no hesitation or need to even think about it. It’s startling, how she just had an answer ready to go.
“Why?” He wants to know if she’s going to say the same thing as Eddie or if she has different reasons.
“Why didn’t you answer my question?”
“It’s complicated,” Steve sighs, grabbing a new bottle for her to fill.
By some miracle Robin drops it, probably saw something in his face or felt something that told her pressing wouldn’t serve to do anything but frustrate him.
---
“We need that for the cookies,” Steve says, swatting Eddie’s shoulder as he scoops more frosting onto a large wooden spoon, “Stop that.”
Eddie sprints around the kitchen island to make space between them and avoid Steve’s ire. “You made way too much! What’s wrong with me eating a little?!” He talks with his hands and he’s holding a spoonful of icing so of course he flings the frosting across the kitchen and it hits Steve in the face, splattering into his hair and sticking to his cheek.
“I am so sorry,” Eddie says, completely sincere and not at all struggling to stifle a laugh.
“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Steve accuses, eyes filled with mirth, brows climbing up his forehead.
“No,” Eddie placates, “No it’s not funny at all!”
Steve stalks towards Eddie slowly, eyes locked on Eddie’s trapping him in place. “You laughed.”
“It was startled laughter! Not funny-haha laughter just startled!!”
Steve walks towards the bowl of icing slowly, not breaking eye contact with Eddie and scoops up some icing in his hand. Years of sports have led to this moment as he launches his scoop across the kitchen and it splatters across Eddie’s face.
---
Vecna crashes through the window engulfed in flames and Steve yells at Nancy to keep blasting him while Steve sprints outside. He’s not letting that fucker get away. Not this time.
By the time Steve gets out of the house Vecna is attempting to crawl away as Nancy continues to shoot out from the window, Robin launching a few remaining Molotovs at him too. They cease fire when Steve gets close enough. He wouldn’t have cared either way, as long as that ball sack dies. Steve raises his ax and swings. And swings. And swings. Andswingsandswingsandswingsandswingsand-
“He’s dead, Steve,” Robin grunts, using all her strength to stop Steve from swinging at the mutilated corpse of Henry Creel. “He’s dead.”
Steve drops the ax, stands up, and sprints. Steve vaguely registers himself yelling back, telling them to burn the body to ashes but all he can really hear is the pounding of his feet against the ground and the frantic beating of his heart as he rushes back to the trailer to find Eddie and Dustin.
---
“So I roll the big one?”
“Yep, then you take that number and add 2 for your attack. You’ll need a 15 on the die to hit since the armor class is a 17. If it meets, it beats.”
Steve rolls the die. It lands on a 20. The table erupts in cheers. Lucas jumps out of his seat and pumps his fist in the air, Dustin grabs Steve’s shoulders and shakes him, Jeff cheers “Hell yeah, Harrington,” Gareth and Grant high five, even Mike issues a congratulations.
None of it matters to Steve. All that matters is the giant smile on Eddie’s face, mouth stretched so wide it forces his eyes closed. It looks like it might hurt. Steve can’t help but to mirror it.
---
Eddie is bleeding, and everything is red, and there is no way to put the blood back.
---
“Is it going to hurt?” Steve asks, eyes wide and desperate, holding Eddie’s hand in a death grip.
“No more than how tight you’re holding my hand, darlin’,” Eddie says with a chuckle.
Steve loosens his grip. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t say stop.” Eddie grips Steve’s hand back firmly. “You’ll be fine, Sweetheart, it feels like a cat scratch. It’s a small tattoo, it’ll be over before you know it. Just look at me, and hold my hand, and it’ll be over soon.”
---
Eddie dies three times before they get his heartbeat steady. He doesn’t wake up for over a week. Steve never leaves his side. People stop trying to make him leave after a while. He’ll leave when Eddie does.
He only gets treated when the nurses come to him. He only drinks when a cup is placed in his hands. He only sleeps when his body is incapable of staying awake. He only eats when someone brings food to him. He keeps the bathroom door open when he showers and only showers when someone all but forces him to.
Eddie’s going to make it. He has to. Steve’s chest still says, “Make him pay,” but Eddie technically died three times already since they got to the hospital, so Steve’s willing to ignore it. It’ll change when Eddie wakes up or something. Maybe it will stay, Steve doesn’t know for sure. But Eddie’s going to make it.
Steve’s in the hospital and Eddie is breathing.
---
“Keep up!” Eddie yells from a few yards up the trail.
“I’m coming Eds, my knees aren’t what they used to be.”
“I can’t believe I fell in love with a jock and he can’t keep up with me on a hike.” Eddie jogs back a bit to meet Steve in the middle. “I keep telling you to go to that doctor Nancy recommended. You’d get brand new fancy knees and this hike would be no issue. You’d basically be part robot or something. Not to mention the other stuff we could get up to.” Eddie waggles his eyebrows suggestively and reaches out for Steve’s hands.
“Keep it in your pants, Munson,” Steve snorts, rolling his eyes fondly.
“I’d rather get into yours, Munson.”
Steve can’t help but pull Eddie into a kiss before they continue their trek.
---
“- he doing ‘re?”
“Boy hasn’t left your side since you got out of surgery. Wouldn’t even leave to get treated himself. They had to patch him up in that chair. You must mean a great deal to him.”
Steve blinks away his blurry vision to investigate who’s there. He sees Wayne first, sitting in a chair next to Eddie’s bed. He looks tired, because of course he does. Despite how rough everyone’s had it the last few weeks, Wayne’s struggle has been incomparable.
The other voice belongs to Eddie.
Eddie?
“Eddie?!” Steve shouts, launching up from his chair and tripping over himself to get to the other side of Eddie’s bed. “Eddie, you're awake!”
Steve flutters around, not really sure what to do with his hands but desperate to be as close to Eddie as possible, to feel his pulse points and double check he’s real and awake and alive.
“Seems like it,” Eddie responds, voice hoarse from disuse and the removal of the breathing tube that was shoved down his throat the last time Steve was awake. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m going to disappear.”
Because you always do.. Because I’m scared that if I blink I’ll wake up and have to do it all over again. Or worse, I won’t have the chance to try again.
---
Light shines through the sheer curtains and halos Eddie in the morning light. He’s smiling softly down at Steve with wild bed head, hair sticking up in all directions. His eyes are droopy from just waking up and every shade of brown in his irises are perfectly distinct. He’s the most beautiful person Steve’s ever seen.
“You’re beautiful,” Steve says.How could he not?
Eddie hums and leans forward to press a light kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Not as beautiful as you, my love.”
---
“We’re soulmates,” Eddie says. “Aren’t we?”
Steve startles, not having expected that over Kraft mac and cheese with ketchup on a Sunday afternoon. “Yeah,” he decides to answer; there’s not really any point in lying about it.
“When did you know?”
Steve always knew he was going to tell Eddie. He’d thought about it since the third or fourth time repeating the final battle. He never quite sorted out the best way to go about it. Even still, months after it’s all been over, he’s not fully convinced that it is over. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to wake up and realize it all really was a dream.
“The first time you died.”
“The first time?”
“Yeah.”
So Steve explains. He talks about the first time, when Eddie died and Steve had to live fourteen years knowing that his soulmate was dead. He tells Eddie about the dreams of the life they didn’t get to have. Talks about waking up in 1986 and thinking it was just another dream only to realize it was some crazy time travel shit and he had a chance to save Eddie. He tells him how he didn’t keep track of how many times he tried, just held on to the hope that he’d get to keep trying until Eddie survived. He tells Eddie about it all.
“I don’t know what changed,” Steve admits. “But this time it worked, and you lived, and here we are.”
“Here we are,” Eddie repeats.
They both stay quiet for a moment, Eddie taking a few more bites of mac and cheese while Steve waits for something to happen.
“I was hoping it was you,” Eddie says as he scrapes a final bite from his bowl.