Your Curated Tumblr Experience Awaits!
(I'm still thinking about the actual plot. I might do a poll on that too. Feel free to comment ideas)
Drabble from this head canon.
TW: blood, angst, mention of death.
He could faintly hear the screaming around him, sobs erupting over him. He felt arms wrap around his body, the pressure of them lifting his aching limps, cradling him against another, but he felt no warmth from the touch. His eyes felt so heavy, his head was pounding. He hears voices, and can faintly understand that they were speaking, but the words were lost in translation. It takes everything he has just to peak an eye open, stare up at the two sets of eyes on him. He sees their lips moving, watches as the tears fall from their face, but he can’t feel the droplets land on his skin. He can’t move his head to look down at his torso, but he knows there is blood, knows that there’s more on the ground than in his body.
“Steve…Steve…you…can anyone please…Steve? We need backup! Steve’s hurt, he’s…Steve…Steve!” Dustin…That was Dustin’s voice, wasn’t it? “You gotta be okay, man!”
“Dustin…” That was Robin’s voice. Was she holding him? She sounded like she was in pain. Did he not do enough? Was she hurt?
“No!” He suddenly screams, his voice ringing in his ears, or maybe that was from the blood rapidly pumping in them. “No, he has to be! I can’t lose anyone else!” Dustin pulls the walkie-talkie up to his mouth once more, pleading, “Can anyone hear me? This is code red! I repeat, code red! We need someone, anyone! Please! Hopper…Mrs. Byers? Anyone?”
“Henderson?” He didn’t mean to speak, but despite the lack of intent to talk, the word was still so difficult to form.
“Yes, Steve, I-we’re here, buddy,” he rushes out, the sentence tumbling from his lips as if the faster he speaks, the quicker that Steve would heal.
“Robbie?” His voice is fading as he continues to speak.
“Shh, I’m right here, dingus,” she whispers. “But try not to talk, alright? You’re banged up pretty bad.”
“Oh.” His mind was getting foggier, but it was something he was grateful for because he couldn’t feel the pain. He just felt tired. “Are you guys okay?”
“Yes, yes,” Dustin answers, his voice cracking under the weight of a humorless laugh bubbling up past the lump in his throat. “We’re okay. Thanks to you, buddy, we’re all going to be okay.” Steve tries to nod but his head just lulls into the bend of Robin’s neck and shoulder.
“Good, good,” he mutters sleepily. “I just need to close my eyes for a bit longer.”
“No, Steve, please,” Robin whimpers, clutching him closer to her chest.
“It’s okay, Robs, everything’s okay.” And Steve believes that as he smiles up at the pair that are pleading with him to keep his eyes open just a bit longer. “I’m just happy you’re both safe.”
He can’t hear their voices anymore. They’re muddled, as if he’s underwater. He sees nothing in front of him, just waves of darkness for eternity. He feels nothing. He isn’t cold or warm, there’s just nothing. No more pain. And then he hears the gentle, broken, “Steve?” behind him from the last voice he expected to hear, yet it was one he desperately wanted to listen to again. Turning around he finds Eddie, his previously shredded and bloodstained Hellfire T-shirt now spotless underneath his leather jacket and battle vest. Wait, Steve thought that he had that vest in his room, tucked under his bed so no one would take it from him. It was greedy, he knew how much the boys wanted a piece of their Dungeon Master to remember him by, but he couldn’t part with it. He was allowed to be selfish just this once. But it seems that it was unnecessary as Eddie was standing right in front of him. He reaches out and touches his shoulder, making sure this wasn’t some sick dream or illusion, but he felt the heat from his body, the first sense he had of his own touch, and he throws his arms around Eddie, feeling the warmth spread in the embrace. But something felt off as Eddie gingerly wrapped his own arms around Steve’s frame, acting as if he were fragile, or like he was scared. Pulling back, Steve looked over Eddie again. He didn’t see any injuries. Shouldn’t he still be healing? He looks unscathed.
“Eddie, how are you alive?” Steve asks confused.
“I’m not, Steve,” he rasps out, choking on a small sob as Steve finally notices the tears streaming from his face.
“But then…”
“I’m sorry, Steve, but neither are you.”