Rock Steady (Steddie)

I Can't Make Them Go Away

Steve parked his BMW behind Eddie's van at Skull Rock and got out. He looked around but didn't see Eddie anywhere. The back of the van was open, but Eddie wasn't inside. After a minute or two of looking around in the dark, Steve threw up his hands in defeat, muttering under his breath. But deep inside, he was actually kind of worried. There really wasn't anywhere to go except into the woods and towards Lover's Lake. But even with the full moon tonight, the trek to Lover's Lake would have been difficult to navigate in the darkness.

"Up here, big boy." Steve jumped, a startled squeak escaping as Eddie spoke. He turned towards Eddie's van. "On top of the van," Eddie said. "Climb up." Steve went to the back of the van and climbed up to find Eddie lying on his back, staring up at the sky, a lit joint between his lips. "Didn't mean to scare you," he said. "You okay?"

"You didn't scare me." Steve reached over and took the joint from Eddie's mouth and took a long hit. "Just startled me," he said hoarsely as he held in a lung full of smoke.

"I didn't think you were going to show up." Eddie held up the bottle of bourbon. Steve could see in the moonlight that Eddie had already made a significant dent in it. "I started without you."

"Like I said," Steve began as he laid back next to Eddie in the opposite direction, Eddie's feet dangling over the windshield, Steve's feet dangling off the back. "I don't drink. So, knock yourself out." Eddie lifted his head enough to take a swig of the amber liquid. "But if you pass out up here, I'm leaving you here."

"Fair enough," Eddie answered and reached for the joint.

They passed the joint back and forth between the two of them in silence. Steve watched Eddie every time he took a drink of the bourbon. Steve couldn't even stand the way it smelled, and he wondered how Eddie could gulp it like that without even the slightest shudder.

"Is this what you do every Tuesday night?" Eddie just nodded. "You always drink that much?"

"Not as often as I'd like to," he answered, slightly slurred. "Sometimes I lift a little from my uncle, but it's rare I ever have enough to get completely blitzed. Usually, I just sit up here, drink beer and smoke weed."

Eddie took a last hit from the joint that was now spent and tossed the roach away. He fished another from his cigarette pack and handed it to Steve. He watched Steve's face in the glow of the lighter as he lit it and smiled to himself. If someone had told him last week that he'd be hanging out with Steve Harrington he'd have laughed in their face. But here he was. And he was kind of enjoying it. Maybe Henderson was right, and Steve really had changed since high school.

"I lied." Eddie blinked, bringing himself back to the present. "You were actually pretty good tonight." He took a long hit, held it for several heartbeats, then let it out slowly. "I'm not a fan of that kind of music, but you have talent. I was impressed."

"Thanks, Steve." Eddie was glad it was dark because he just knew that his cheeks were burning red at the compliment. Steve offered the joint to him, but Eddie waved it away and took another gulp of the bourbon. "Do you ever dream?"

"Sure," Steve said. "Everyone does."

"What about nightmares?"

"I've had a few in my life." Steve looked over at Eddie. He was frowning, his face illuminated by the moon, and Steve thought he looked a little scared. "You have nightmares?"

Eddie nodded slowly, took another drink. "They're always the same." His words were slurred. "But worse, you know?" He raised the bottle to his lips again, but Steve reached out and clamped his hand over Eddie's.

"Maybe you've had enough of this." He took the bottle, looked around for the lid, and finally found it clutched in Eddie's other hand. He capped the bottle and sat it to the side. "You want to talk about it?"