I Can't, Eddie... (Steddie)

24

Max called a few hours later and the boys set out immediately. Sure enough, the yard was empty when they pulled up to Eddie's trailer. Eddie was nervously jiggling his leg until Steve parked the car. They both practically leapt from the car, wanting to go as quickly as possible. The front door was unlocked and they burst through, beelining to Eddie's room. Steve wasn't really sure what he could do to help so he just hovered near the doorway, keeping an eye out for any movement outside. Eddie grabbed his backpack and threw some clothes in haphazardly before pausing to gaze longingly at his guitar in the corner of the room. Steve cocked his head to the side, confused.

"What's up, Eds?"

"I—I'm worried he'll ruin it. It's, like, my most prized possession."

Okay, that's an easy one to fix.

Steve shrugged and marched over to the guitar, picking it up off its stand.

"So it comes with us then."

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked.

"Of course. It's not like it takes up a lot of space. And even if it did, it's important to you. That's all that matters."

"It just feels like an overreaction. Stupid, really." Eddie admitted.

Steve scoffed and moved back to his position at the door, still carefully holding the guitar. Eddie melted right into the ground. He bit his lip and shook his head, fighting a smile.

"Well, that's everything, then."

"Okay. You'll be back in just a few days, babe." Steve reassured him. Eddie nodded and walked past Steve, swinging his backpack up onto his back. Steve began to follow him, but he froze so suddenly that Steve bumped into his back. Eddie was staring out the window, where a blue car had just pulled up.

"Oh, fuck," Steve muttered before pulling Eddie behind him and moving to open the front door. He handed the guitar to its owner.

A man got out of the car who very vaguely resembled Eddie, but mostly he looked utterly run down. He was balding and he had a lived in five o'clock shadow. His eyes were ringed in dark circles and his face was almost waxy. He looked like a drug addict.

He probably is.

Steve pulled Eddie down the steps by the hand, not caring whatsoever how it looked. His priority was protecting Eddie, who seemed to have shrunk into a smaller version of himself. Steve hated it. He hated what this man turned Eddie into. He glared at the man, willing him to say anything at all to antagonize Steve. The man obliged.

"And what the fuck is this?" He spat at them. Behind him a ways, Max Mayfield had come out of her trailer looking concerned, but she kept her distance. Her gaze zeroed in on Steve and Eddie's clasped hands, and her eyes went wide with understanding.

"We're leaving." Steve said, trying to keep his cool. Max took a step closer to the confrontation.

"Is this your little boyfriend, you fucking queer?" Eddie's father tried to look around Steve at his son. Steve took several steps forward, still keeping Eddie in tow.

"You can speak to me. Not him." Steve said, raising his voice just slightly. He was taller than Eddie's father and he was so angry it felt as if he'd grown to one hundred feet tall.

"You're fucking sick. Both of you," the man spat again. He jerked his body toward Eddie trying to scare him. Eddie flinched back. Steve dropped Eddie's hand and shoved the man so hard he stumbled back several steps, falling onto the hood of his car. Max started running over to the gathering, unsure of what she could do to help, but knowing that whoever this man was, he was not welcome and was hurting her friend.