idiot - steddie

Eighteen

Dustin laid his head on my shoulder, his soft curls bristling against my cheek like a birds feather. I didn't have the guts to tell him that his head was weighing on my shoulder like a wrecking ball, and frankly— I had lost my voice from sobbing and screaming. So, instead of doing what my brain told me to, I set my head on his and listened to his slow bretahing and faint heart monitors in the other hospital rooms.

Robin and Nancy were sitting in chairs on the wall opposite to us, Nancy had her fingers spaced out, laced through Robin's as Robin set her head back on the back of her blue leather seat, constantly looking over at the doctors who came our way, waiting for someone to tell us that Eddie was still alive, that he could still speak, that he was still mine. And that he could say those words back to me before he took his last breath too soon. But nothing came. Minutes that felt like hours passed before we were even offered something to drink.

My eyes closed for a second, just because I need sleep. I needed a single fucking second to shut my eyes and drift off into a state of unconsciousness. But not even I could do that. Because when I opened then again, I was back at the scene, I was back in that memory. The same memory from less than a few hours ago. A memory that will forever haunt me.

My tears blended in with the red and blue flashing lights, blurring the straight shot stare I had locked on Eddie as Robin wrapped her arm around my shoulder hesitantly, rubbing lopsided circles into my collarbone as soothingly as she could. Her ring pressed into the thin layer of skin behind my ripped shirt, and all I could think of was the cold, timbering feeing of Eddie's rings against my tan skin, pushing me against walls and cupboards and kissing me like he would fall off the face of the earth if we separated. I missed that feeling. Even if we had shared a kiss just before we ventured through the portal, I missed it. I missed knowing that he was still beside me. That I could turn and talk to him about every little thought on my mind.

Dustin and Nancy were on either sides of us with pilled blankets wrapped around their backs, watching as Eddie's covered body got loaded up into an ambulance, with news reporters and policemen scattered around the scene like ants who found an ongoing picnic going on. Over the small amount of conversation from them, I had found out a bit. I had been way too out of it and a little too focused on Eddie's ambulance so I only cut into the conversation every now and then to hear a few important pinpoints.

Number one on the list: Eddie Munson is not a murderer.

Number two: Jason Carver had most definitely been convicted for spreading false leads and breaking and entering. He only got 7 years, but it was still so fun to see his blonde dummy ass get dragged away into a cop car in handcuffs, screaming out that Eddie was guilty, not him.

Me and Robin shared a heated blanket, and it covered our shivering bodies to the full extent. But we weren't cold. No, not at all. We were scared, terrified even. Because we had seen death handed out to us on a golden platter, and even worse— it was someone we knew and cared about.

It felt like a chunk of my heart had just been ripped out and stomped on, like my whole entire life had just plummeted straight to rock bottom. The red and white doors of Eddie's ambulance slammed shut, and all four of us watched as it sped away.

A conjoined thought brewed in between us all. Like it was about to boil and spill over in a hot mess on top of us.

Was it too late?

And that brings us back to the hospital. Where I had opened my eyes again, removing my head from where it had been resting in the bird nest that is Dustin's hair. The flashes of Eddie's body made me sick to my stomach, and I genuinely couldn't bear to see it again. So I settled back into my chair, and continued watching the fluorescents blink and flicker above me, patiently waiting for a nurse to come out and tell us that he was okay and allow us to see him.