idiot - steddie

Eleven

I would love to have a normal post-teen life.

I wish I could be fighting monsters in game cabinets at the arcade, not in real life in an alternate universe that nobody but some highschool students, and a high school failure knew about. I would love if I could just get a single second away from the kids that I had been designed to babysit since the day I was born, because god. Wouldn't that be great?

And most of all, I wish I wasn't in front of Eddie Munson, shaking him by the shoulders and begging for him to wake up.

Robin and Nancy had already gone through the gate by the time they were spread out across Eddie's RV in the real world, searching for music to save Eddie from whatever Vecna is doing to him. I had seen this happen with Max, so I knew exactly what this could mean. Death or haunting, and knowing Eddie— he would probably choose death. He was a runner.

I grabbed him by his leather-covered shoulders, "Eddie? Eddie?" I begged, shaking him. He began shaking, and his body went into autopilot mode. His hair was half-covering his eyes, that were flipped back and completely white besides for a few veins littered inside, tight lips that were locked in place, and he had a still, almost lifeless body with clammy palms. I converted my hands into fists and began hitting him sideways on his scapulae. My breathing quickened at the sight of him, and my eyes were wrenched open. I pulled him closer to me by his underarms. "Stay with me. Eddie! Hey!" I yelled, louder and more demanding than last time. Terror overtook my body and I almost let a tear fall from my eye. I grabbed him by his cheeks, running my thumbs in circular movements on his temples. "Eddie, wake up." I pled, a tear falling from my lone eye and falling onto my foot as I watched his eyes roll back even more, and his shaking increase.

I balled my hand up in a fist again, "Wake up! Eddie!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, desperation lacing my tone the more I watched his body become overtaken by that monstrous being. And the worst part of it all was— I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help him, Hell— he probably didn't even want help.

An ominous silence turned my yelling inside out, yet my hands still didn't leave his face. I wish I hadn't let him go last, maybe if everyone was still in here, they could have a shot at waking him up. But I knew that was false hope. That was me grasping for an answer that wasn't the truth.

I kept shaking the half-dead adult for minutes that felt like hours, screaming his name out til my voice was hoarse and my ears rang from deep, deep inside them. Nothing worked. His eyes started rolling way to the backs of his mind, practically having a staring contest with his brain.

Until he gasped, and his eyes opened up correctly, sending his pupils to the front of his head and his lips ajar. He looked at me as he lost balance and fell backwards, "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." I said quickly, crouching down and catching his body so he didn't fall onto one of the vines that crawled around in this place. His breathing was quick and labored, and he didn't even care that he fell to the ground, his body was still. With only my hands to support his fall. I immediately crouched down next to him, his hair sprawled out all around his as a part of his head fell back onto my shoe. I wrapped my arms around his torso and his panting became more calmed. "It's okay. It's okay." I reassured him, watching as his open mouth exhaled and inhaled with sharp breaths from inside his chest.

He gasped and closed his eyes at the sight of me, and I set my hand on the side of his head, nesting it inside of a pile of dewy brown hair right above his right ear. His eyes flickered to me the second he opened them, "It's okay. I'm here." I consoled the man under me, he stared at me, and his mouth closed a bit as his heavy breathing slowed. I brushed a loose strand of hair away from his eyes, moving my hand to his back and rubbing circles into his shoulder blade. "I'm right here."