[ 1994. it's been a while since hawkins, indiana. steve harrington tries to forget, but oftentimes - that doesn't work. especially lately. there's a nagging feeling of something close, though it's been years since the upside down was taken down for good. that anxiety grew over time, constantly settling into steve's guts, the way it twists and curls and turns ice cold. he understands that it's an anniversary of sorts, the last time he'd been there, but that's over. past. settled. he can't shake it despite the logical side of his mind making the case to live and forget. why is it so difficult to do that?
steve works for his father now, and he understands his loneliness now. why his father and mother were always gone, leaving the harrington home empty and devoid of anything close to familial love. it's a busy life, the trips he takes like clockwork, and steve has to admit that he's never been more tired. his bones ache now, from all that the upside down did to him. scars, both physical and mental, rage on throughout his body. when he gets up in the morning to rain in seattle, washington - he isn't surprised. he's there on business, the hotel he's staying reminding him of the lack of heart in his parents' house. the pillows are too white, the blankets thin and doused with chemicals. it's what his father sprang for, which isn't much, save for the view. he's high, the windows big, the city sprawled pretty with the dark clouds.
he showers, he dresses, and he skips breakfast to go down to the parking garage to find his rental car. he enters, puts it in gear, and drives out into the downpour. it doesn't take long for someone to skid into him, their car denting the side of the car, the wheel-well crunched into the tire itself. the tow truck comes, given by insurance. steve rides along with the driver, quiet, the windows rolled so far so the driver can smoke. he blows it out of the side of his mouth, but steve can taste the acidic air. he checks his watch, his suit still perfectly-pressed, his hair in his eyes, damp. he's going to be late to his meeting, but he figures he can use the mechanic shop's phone.
as they pull in, steve climbs out, making his way to the office to explain. when he does, he uses the phone, all to plan. he's been excused for the day, the meeting postponed. steve then enters the mechanical side of the shop again, hands on his hips. he watches the tow truck lower the car, bottom lip between his teeth. he doesn't notice a mechanic coming up behind him, his brows knitted, and there's that - what is it? a sensation, something that works through his mind like worms in dirt. ]
( after eddie left hawkins behind, he tried his damnedest to forget about everything that happened. that week left behind a brand with memories that were not easy to forget. little things would trigger him and force him to relive his past, no matter how much physical distance he put between himself and that town.
little things like the flutter of a butterfly sounding just a little too much like bat wings or the way a car backfiring in the garage might remind him too much of nancy's shotgun.
eddie might be alive, but he's forever a changed man.
in the middle of seattle, washington, he spends most of his days under the hood of a car. the sweat and oil of a hard day's work do him good, keeping his mind occupied enough that he usually has no trouble forgetting. he's far enough away from hawkins that he rarely ever stumbles upon anyone he might have known, and certainly far enough away from anyone who might associate the munson name with criminal. it's an honest living for once, and eddie loves it. he feels useful, putting cars back together, changing oil, and doing whatever it takes to get a generous tip.
it's certainly better than anything he could have gotten back in illinois. and the music scene more than makes up for the shitty weather he has to endure.
the downpour is pretty typical for seattle. most natives know to be careful out on the road, but there is always the occasional drifter or tourist pulling up with car trouble following one of these flash floods. enter rental car. from the back, he can't place the body right away, and it's the voice that does him in. eddie stands there, almost shell-shocked, convinced that he must have hit his head on the hood of a car and hallucinated this man standing in front of him. )
Harrington?
( steve barely looks older than his 18-19-year-old self, the years being kind to him. eddie, on the other hand, feels like the bags under his eyes and the grease in his hair makes him look very much 27, if not older. )
Well, uh, depends on what parts we've got on hand. Might be a couple days to a week at most. How long are you in town for?
( mostly because eddie is curious. is steve just passing through, or has he moved here? should eddie start setting himself up for the disappointment that will inevitably be steve once again leaving him behind? )
[ harrington? steve practically gets whiplash, the way his head spins to the sound of his last name. it's in a familiar tone, but at first, for the mere blink of a split-second, steve's afraid. when he spots eddie munson, however, his chin jerks back a bit, eyebrows knitting over his large, dark eyes. his hands fall from his hips, and he shakes his head once, twice. this isn't real. it can't be. not seattle, not in the middle of rain, not with a busted car. it all seems like too much, too unfair. his heart feels as if it isn't beating, not for a while, then it slams into his throat. ]
Munson.
[ eddie. once upon a time - his eddie. steve blinks out of it, listening to eddie's words. to a week - he frowns, bottom lip pulled downward, as he closes his eyes and breathes heavy through his nostrils. he doesn't want to be here a week, and definitely not beyond that. steve looks at eddie, then looks away, swallowing hard. ]
I can be in town for however long it takes.
[ an unfortunate thing, he can't take a chance leaving the car. ]
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@ 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺.
steve works for his father now, and he understands his loneliness now. why his father and mother were always gone, leaving the harrington home empty and devoid of anything close to familial love. it's a busy life, the trips he takes like clockwork, and steve has to admit that he's never been more tired. his bones ache now, from all that the upside down did to him. scars, both physical and mental, rage on throughout his body. when he gets up in the morning to rain in seattle, washington - he isn't surprised. he's there on business, the hotel he's staying reminding him of the lack of heart in his parents' house. the pillows are too white, the blankets thin and doused with chemicals. it's what his father sprang for, which isn't much, save for the view. he's high, the windows big, the city sprawled pretty with the dark clouds.
he showers, he dresses, and he skips breakfast to go down to the parking garage to find his rental car. he enters, puts it in gear, and drives out into the downpour. it doesn't take long for someone to skid into him, their car denting the side of the car, the wheel-well crunched into the tire itself. the tow truck comes, given by insurance. steve rides along with the driver, quiet, the windows rolled so far so the driver can smoke. he blows it out of the side of his mouth, but steve can taste the acidic air. he checks his watch, his suit still perfectly-pressed, his hair in his eyes, damp. he's going to be late to his meeting, but he figures he can use the mechanic shop's phone.
as they pull in, steve climbs out, making his way to the office to explain. when he does, he uses the phone, all to plan. he's been excused for the day, the meeting postponed. steve then enters the mechanical side of the shop again, hands on his hips. he watches the tow truck lower the car, bottom lip between his teeth. he doesn't notice a mechanic coming up behind him, his brows knitted, and there's that - what is it? a sensation, something that works through his mind like worms in dirt. ]
Do you know how long this'll take?
no subject
little things like the flutter of a butterfly sounding just a little too much like bat wings or the way a car backfiring in the garage might remind him too much of nancy's shotgun.
eddie might be alive, but he's forever a changed man.
in the middle of seattle, washington, he spends most of his days under the hood of a car. the sweat and oil of a hard day's work do him good, keeping his mind occupied enough that he usually has no trouble forgetting. he's far enough away from hawkins that he rarely ever stumbles upon anyone he might have known, and certainly far enough away from anyone who might associate the munson name with criminal. it's an honest living for once, and eddie loves it. he feels useful, putting cars back together, changing oil, and doing whatever it takes to get a generous tip.
it's certainly better than anything he could have gotten back in illinois. and the music scene more than makes up for the shitty weather he has to endure.
the downpour is pretty typical for seattle. most natives know to be careful out on the road, but there is always the occasional drifter or tourist pulling up with car trouble following one of these flash floods. enter rental car. from the back, he can't place the body right away, and it's the voice that does him in. eddie stands there, almost shell-shocked, convinced that he must have hit his head on the hood of a car and hallucinated this man standing in front of him. )
Harrington?
( steve barely looks older than his 18-19-year-old self, the years being kind to him. eddie, on the other hand, feels like the bags under his eyes and the grease in his hair makes him look very much 27, if not older. )
Well, uh, depends on what parts we've got on hand. Might be a couple days to a week at most. How long are you in town for?
( mostly because eddie is curious. is steve just passing through, or has he moved here? should eddie start setting himself up for the disappointment that will inevitably be steve once again leaving him behind? )
no subject
Munson.
[ eddie. once upon a time - his eddie. steve blinks out of it, listening to eddie's words. to a week - he frowns, bottom lip pulled downward, as he closes his eyes and breathes heavy through his nostrils. he doesn't want to be here a week, and definitely not beyond that. steve looks at eddie, then looks away, swallowing hard. ]
I can be in town for however long it takes.
[ an unfortunate thing, he can't take a chance leaving the car. ]