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“Are we sure this is the right place?” Steve asks from where he stands just beyond the festival’s entrance, eyes scanning across a sea of food stands and vendor booths with fierce determination.
Beside him, Robin groans while Nancy huffs a laugh. “How many Fall Festivals of this magnitude do you know of that are in a reasonable driving distance to Hawkins, dingus? This is the right place.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, but I don’t see Eddie anywhere. What if we’re at the wrong place?”
“We’re not! I already told you in the car that I double-checked.”
“And I triple-checked after that.” Nancy tacks on helpfully or rather unhelpfully as far as Steve is concerned. “Robin’s right. This is the place.”
“I’m just saying is—”
“Oh my god,” Robin blurts, cutting him off before he can even begin. “Steve, I love you, but if you say the words “wrong” or “place” one more time, I am going to find the nearest apple bobbing station, and I am going to shove your pretty little head in it. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” Steve grumbles, peeling his eyes away from where they were still searching through the crowd and turning them down to meet Robin’s. When their eyes meet, all traces of her annoyance with him melt away. It leaves behind a notably softer expression, and Steve isn’t sure if it’s because he’s failed to conceal his feelings well enough or if it’s just another display of how well Robin knows him.
Sensing the sudden shift and catching sight of the unspoken conversation going on between them, Nancy excuses herself with the promise of getting them popcorn to give them space. Robin waits patiently until she’s out of earshot before nudging Steve with her elbow. “All right… what gives? You’re acting more Steve-ish than usual, and I don’t think it’s because you suddenly found a love for caramel apples and hay rides.”
Steve makes an indignant noise. “Nothing! I just want us all to have a good time tonight.”
“Uh-huh.” Robin remains unconvinced. “That’s what we all want, but you don’t see the rest of us getting all worked up about it. Why are you in such a rush to find Eddie? Didn’t you see him yesterday? And the day before? And the day before that—”
“Jesus, Robin. Yeah, okay.” It’s Steve’s turn to cut her off mid-sentence. He lets out a huff as his eyes continue gliding across the crowded lot in search of a familiar face. “I’m not in a rush to see Eddie. I promised him we’d come by to show him our support tonight, and I don’t want to break that promise.”
Robin is quiet for a moment, her brows crinkled in a way that tells Steve she’s lost deep in thought. He knows better than to interrupt her; it will simply go in one ear and out the other, so he chews on his lip and bides his time until she sinks into a decision on how she wants to proceed—lacing her arm with his, Robin tugs at his arm without so much as a word. His unsuspecting feet stumble, heavy and clumsy, as she drags him toward the picnic tables sitting off to the side.
They don’t come to a stop until they reach one sitting by its lonesome. The cold table’s wooden bench stings the back of Steve’s thighs through his jeans as they take a seat. It makes him restless, feeding into the urge he has to get up and run through the festival grounds until he comes across the sight of wild hair and big brown eyes. But Robin’s face is set into a look of determination, and Steve knows better than to try and fight her on it. It’s a fight he won’t win and a one-way track to ensuring their night is everything but a good one, so he sinks down on the bench and waits for the conversation he knows is coming.
Robin takes the empty seat beside him and lets out a sigh. “Steve, you know that if this were about more than keeping a promise, that would be okay too, right?”
“Yeah, of course, I do,” Steve replies instantly. He means it as much as she does, yet it doesn’t stop the way his stomach flip-flops from her insinuation. He has to keep his eyes trained ahead, boring a hole into the back of Nancy’s head as they stare down the line for popcorn instead of Robin.
Robin still manages to read him like a book. “Meaning… that if — hypothetically, of course — you were just excited to see a certain beloved leather-clad metalhead, that would be cool.”
Steve tries to count the number of ringlets in Nancy’s hair to buy himself time to think of a witty response. He makes it through five before the hair appears to shift before his eyes, changing into that of someone else's look. Someone with longer, thicker curls, just a smidge lighter. It takes him longer than he likes to realize it’s nothing more than a hopeful delusion.
Sighing heavily, he runs a hand through his hair in a tell he wishes he didn’t have and tries to accept his defeat with a head held high. “I don’t know, Rob…” he pauses and takes a breath in. He shakes his head like he’s trying to knock some loose piece into place and breathes out. “He just kept talking about how good this new job of his is. How fun, and how much he likes it. It’s good for him, you know? Whenever he brought it up, he’d get so excited that I thought he would jump out of his skin. It was…”
“Cute?” Robin supplies for him when his words trail off, getting lost somewhere in the wind amongst the sound of delighted squeals and what was probably meant to be some sort of scary music.
“…Yeah.”
Robin hums thoughtfully. Tilts her head and then nudges her shoulder against Steve’s. “So does this mean you’re finally going to make a move and whip out those King Steve charms you claim to have still?”
“What?! No! I’m …. No! This isn’t—” Steve chokes on nothing but air, his eyes bulging in disbelief as he whips his head around to look at her. “Robin, I’m only here to give a friend… a hand.”
That’s the wrong choice of words, and he realizes it immediately when Robin’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.
Steve doesn’t need a mirror to know his cheeks are aflame as his life begins to flash before his eyes. He hacks a couple of times, hand over his chest as he sputters and spits, trying to backtrack. “I’m here to show him support, Robin!”
“Yeah, I bet you are.” Robin covers her mouth with her hand. It does nothing to hide the smirk that lies behind it, taunting him.
“Cut it out!” He smacks the back of his hand into her shoulder and whines her name. “Robin, I’m serious! I’m here because it means a lot to Eddie — the same way you are. Or Nancy! It’s all about friendship, and I am… all about that, you know?”
Robin is quiet for a moment. A second passes, and then another. Steve’s forced to watch as Nancy inches her way up closer to the front of the line to resist the urge to shake Robin. Then she laughs. Hard.
Hard enough that he swears he can feel the table beneath them begin to shake. Hard enough that she’s nearly doubled over at the waist, clutching at her stomach and gasping for air around every snort she lets out.
Steve narrows his eyes at her. “You’re talking an awful lot of shit for someone who completely froze when Nancy brushed an eyelash off their cheek earlier.”
“That’s different!”
“It isn’t, and you know it,” he scoffs, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
“It is too! Besides, she didn’t just brush it away. She told me to make a wish, and I couldn’t come up with anything clever to say. The English language only has so many words, Steve. Okay? Sue me!”
Steve nods and then takes on a smirk of his own. “Don’t you speak like four different languages?”
“Shut up! We’re not even talking about me and my hopeless love life. We’re talking about you and your slightly less hopeless love life. The love life with which you need to stop being so ridiculous about because you’re giving me worry lines.”
“You are such a hypocrite!” Steve exclaims, thrusting an arm in the direction of where Nancy stands, paying for popcorn.
Robin sputters. Scowls. Cries out in what can only be called a mildly sedated display of outrage. Then she insists again, much to Steve’s chagrin, that it’s totally different— Apples and oranges, she claims.
Steve doesn’t think it is. He thinks it’s all bananas.
He thinks it’s exactly the same despite what she says. That Robin’s just as much of a wimp as he is.
He’s ready to say as much. Ready to knock Robin down a few pegs and challenge her on it. There are even the buddings of a bet beginning to scratch at the edges of his mind, eager and determined to prove that Robin has a better chance of a sparkling future ahead of her than he does with Eddie. But before he can open his mouth to bring any of it to life, Nancy is back and settling down on the picnic bench in front of them.
“Everything okay?”
Robin nods. “Absolutely, yes.”
Seeming satisfied, Nancy extends an arm across the table, holding out her popcorn as an offering. Steve reaches for it, only to be met with a swift swat with the back of his hand. Nancy shoots him a look— all squinted eyes and pursed lips — before holding out the bag closer to Robin.
It’s the kind of face that tells him there’s more at play here than just her instance of him minding his manners. This has nothing to do with ladies going first, and everything about it screams interest. Steve can’t help but smirk, cocky in his validation and wishing more than ever that he had gotten the chance to make that bet. He’d be well on his way to winning now, and he knew it.
“So, what are we doing first?” Nancy asks, taking a handful of popcorn for herself before holding the bag back towards Steve.
He scrunches his nose up, no longer interested, and shrugs. “Guess we should try to find Eddie.”
Robin breaks out into an exaggerated sigh beside him, sending a rouge popcorn kernel flying. At the same time, Nancy’s face contorts into something mischievous that Steve’s got enough sense to know is anything but a good sign. Especially for him.
“Do we really have to find him if we already know where he is?” Robin asks suddenly, causing Steve to whip his head around to look at her so fast that he swears he hears something pop.
“What? You know where he is?” Steve’s face scrunches in confusion. His eyebrows draw together, and his lower lip verges dangerously close to slipping into a full-on pout as it pokes out. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Robin narrows her eyes at him. She tilts her head and offers a smile that’s too playful to be sincere. “Technically, you never asked me.” She shrugs and then grins like she hasn’t listened to him complain all night.
“He’s working at the Haunted Maze, Steve.” Nancy supplies.
“What? Like… those silly things with people dressed up in masks and stuff?” He asks, incredulous. “The ones where they run around and try to scare you by jumping out of the shadows and saying ‘boo’?”
“That’s the one,” Nancy confirms, giving a good-humored roll of her eyes. “Terrible description aside… I think it suits him.”
Steve snorts. “Why? Because he’s scary?”
The corner of Nancy’s mouth ticks up, and she shakes her head. “Not necessarily. I was going to go with theatrical.”
“Don’t forget loud,” Robin adds, causing Steve to let out a laugh.
Steve allows himself a minute to consider their words. “Okay, fair enough, but how’d you two know he’s working the Haunted Maze? He only told me he got a job working at the festival.”
Robin has the decency to give him a sheepish look. “I helped him plan his costume.”
“And I helped him with his resume when he was job hunting.” Nancy simply shrugs her shoulders. “He had a hard time trying to find somewhere that would hire him after everything. Not many places want a formerly wanted murderer working for them, no matter how ridiculous it is.” She spits the word ridiculous with enough fire to nearly make Steve flinch. “So, when I saw the job listing for the festival in the paper and saw they were looking for scare actors, I figured it was worth a shot.”
Steve can’t argue with that, although he is surprised to hear just how much of a role both girls had played in helping Eddie to land this gig. There’s a swelling in his chest, a particular warm joy that radiates throughout him. It’s strong enough to fight off the chilling nip of the late evening October air and plants a smile on his face.
Robin seems to agree. She had nodded her head along with everything Nancy said and went as far as to agree that the fall festival, especially its Haunted Maze, was a much better fit for Eddie. Though Steve has an inkling that Robin would agree to almost anything— that the sky was green and the grass was blue — so long as it came out of Nancy’s mouth.
Steve’s eyes scan across the crowd of bodies throughout the festival grounds when suddenly, realization dawns on him, causing his stomach to sink. “Wait… did everyone know about this but me?”
Nancy and Robin share a look. Nancy presses her lips together while Robin fiddles with her ring-clad fingers. They both look apologetic, shameful, and maybe even a little bit guilty too.
As if she can hear the gears turning in his head, Robin gives his elbow a soothing squeeze. “Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise?”
Nancy nods in agreement, and Steve feels his stomach level back out where it belongs. It leaves behind a restlessness, however. An added itch that feeds into the anticipation of seeing Eddie, now with the bonus of finding out why he was kept out of the loop. He wonders vaguely how desperate it would look if he got up from the picnic table and made a beeline for the Haunted Maze.
He doesn’t get the chance to come up with an answer before Nancy starts talking again. “Well, now that we know where Eddie is, there’s no point in rushing, right? Unless… we’re in a hurry?”
And just like that, Nancy has effectively pinned him to his seat.
It was always so easy for him to remember why he loved Nancy Wheeler and always a little bit harder to remember just how much of a little shit she could be when she wanted to. Except for now. Now she was reminding him perfectly as she sat there, taunting him with all the familiarity of a good friend and looking nothing close to the part. Instead, she’s the picture of faux innocence with big doe eyes, a bright smile, and eyebrows raised into her hairline.
“Are we in a hurry, Steve?” She challenges him, and Steve has to think about all the good thoughts he holds in mind for her to keep from doing the unimaginable, like reaching out a hand to swat hers where it toys the now mostly empty bag of popcorn.
Nancy’s eyebrows climb even higher in the length of time it takes Steve to form a reply.
Crossing his arms over his chest, almost defensively, Steve shakes his head. “No,” he says, throwing in a shoulder shrug to try and convey just how little of a rush he’s in. So what if it was technically a teeny tiny lie? The girls didn’t need to know that. “We’re not in a hurry at all.”
There’s a pause as his words sink over them. And then Robin laughs. Nancy politely tries to no avail to mask her own laughter, pulling her face into a schooled, thoughtful expression. It settles for a moment as she scrutinizes Steve enough to make him want to squirm. It doesn’t help that the table beneath him seems to shake with every giggle Robin lets out at his expense.
Steve doesn’t know what Nancy does or doesn’t find when she looks at him, but eventually, her gaze drops, eyes shifting to glance around them. “Good! In that case, we could play some games on our way through the festival and hit the Haunted Maze last. I think it’s on the other side of the festival grounds anyway.”
Reveling in his misery, Robin’s quick to chime in with agreement. “I could go for some games! And some hot chocolate. Oh, and I really want to check out the house of mirrors. That cool with you, Steve?”
“Sure.” He says it plainly. As simple as he can muster without giving away the fact that he’s dying inside.
“Let’s go then,” Nancy says. “Steve’s going to win us some prizes, Robin. Aren’t you, Steve?”
He doesn’t say no. Doesn’t bother arguing or trying to complain.
He’s not stupid enough to go against Nancy Wheeler, especially not when she’s partnered up with the likes of Robin Buckley. The twin looks of chaotic delight painted across their faces are more than enough to ensure he keeps his mouth shut. He simply nods instead. Offers a thoughtful hum and pulls himself up off the bench of the picnic table.
He misses the high-five shared between Nancy and Robin as he sets off in the direction of booths with signs boldly declaring ‘HOT CHOCOLATE FOR SALE.’
What he doesn’t miss are the giggles they share as they race to catch up with him. The way they fall into step on either side of him yet never stop glancing at one another as if he isn’t even there, or the way Robin turns as red as her dearly beloved Chucks when Nancy crumbles the empty bag of popcorn into a ball and shoots it toward the nearest trashcan with nothing but grace.
Steve doesn’t know what he wants more— to find Eddie or win a bet he never placed.
The festival grounds prove to be much larger than anything Steve had anticipated.
Practically a maze itself, it seemed to go on for miles. Shelling out row after row, corner after corner of buzzing vendors and rides. The girls comb through each stall with a fine-tooth comb, more than happy to take their time after Steve had confirmed they weren’t in a rush. The three of them stop at nearly every stand, trying samples and playing games with the tickets Robin had conned him into buying when they arrived.
Like a woman on a mission, Nancy drags them from one crafter's booth to another in search of gifts and doesn’t stop until she’s found the perfect jewel-charmed necklace and knitted bunny to take home to Karen and Holly. Mike draws what Steve believes is the short end of the stick, with Nancy picking out only a keychain for him. When he says as much, Nancy only laughs and ensures him that Mike is a teenage boy who has much bigger things to worry about than what she brings home for him.
Steve doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but some part of him isn’t sure he wants to if the almost sad glint in her eyes is anything to go off of.
Robin isn’t nearly as keen as Nancy to shop the evening away, but she still manages to spend a good five minutes stressing over which pair of knitted gloves she should get. Holding up option after option to Steve, she asks for his thoughts on each, only to ignore his responses in favor of casting glances to the booth beside them where Nancy stands, combing through a bin of artwork with casual ease. Steve can practically feel himself beginning to gray in the time it takes for his best friend to decide on a pair of gloves to buy, only to turn around and immediately give them to Nancy to wear.
Steve can only watch— half in horror, half in amazement —as Robin urges her to borrow them, stating that Nancy’s hands are too cold to be considered healthy and that she’ll grab them from her later. Nancy slips them on without complaint, although her cheeks grow pink. Robin grins like the cat that got the cream. And Steve ponders if it’s too late to swing that bet into place or at least ditch them near the petting zoo like the dead weight they’re starting to feel like.
Both girls make sure that Steve stays true to his word by practically hauling him up to every game they pass.
A game of ring toss makes him a crowned victor and the not-so-proud owner of what has got to be the most hideous plushy cat Steve has ever seen. Dressed in patchwork overalls and sporting a tiny straw hat, one of the cat’s beady eyes is bigger than the other, and its stitched-on smile is every bit lopsided. Robin takes to it like a moth to a flame, and Steve doesn’t have to think twice about handing it over. She names it Patchy in a very over-the-top pirate voice that reminds Steve of days spent working behind a counter at Scoops Ahoy and leaves him with a smile warm enough to quiet the fuss he’s been fighting temporarily.
A game of bottle knock isn’t as kind. It ends with Steve nursing a bruised ego and holding on to a heavy instance that the game is rigged five attempts later. He’s still complaining as the girls drag him away with eye-rolls and a sympathy of laughter.
He redeems himself at the free throw booth, although only just and much to the haggard workers' annoyance. Still, it’s enough that he’s able to secure a round little pumpkin plush with crooked teeth for Nancy and uphold his end of their agreement. She grins at him as she tucks it away carefully in her purse, but there’s still a look of something mischievous in her eyes that tells Steve he won’t be getting out of this as quickly as he hoped.
His intuition proves correct when Nancy and Robin continue to move him from booth to booth. Their speed begins to resemble that of a slow crawl, leaving Steve ready to buzz out of his skin with anticipation as they slowly slink their way closer to the Haunted Maze. By the time he can begin to make out the sight of the maze’s overhanging banner, they’ve managed to play nearly every game in the festival, got chased off from the make-shift bowling booth by an angry mother due to Robin’s potty mouth, experienced the hurdles of a wicked house of mirrors, and collected enough dime store prizes to see to it that everyone in the Party would get something when they returned to Hawkins.
As the three of them take the last turn, the sight of the winding line of people waiting to enter the maze sets a fire under Steve’s skin. He quickened his pace, excited and impatient to close the remaining gap that stands between him and the likes of Eddie Munson. Robin and Nancy fall behind him, but Steve doesn’t pay it as much attention as he should. He’s too focused on his racing heart that threatens to beat out of his chest and the tingly of his sweaty palms, both of which seem to worsen with every step he takes toward the line for the maze.
He's so consumed with the butterflies he has over the thought of seeing a friend soon that he almost misses Nancy shouting his name.
“Steve!”
Coming to a stop, Steve whips his head around to face them, only to find them several paces back. He’s met once more with twin looks of chaotic delight, amusement dripping off every inch of their faces as they motion with sweeping hands for him to come back to them.
They don’t comment on his hurry or even the color of embarrassment that is no doubt coating his cheeks, and Steve tries not to question whether or not that’s because they’re feeling too polite. Instead, they point to one of the last vendor booths in the aisle and tell him to stay put. It makes him feel an awful lot like a dog on a short leash, and he can feel the collar growing tighter around his neck as he stands just mere feet away from the back of the maze’s line. But Robin finally gets her hot chocolate. Filled to the brim with extra whipped cream and piping hot, it’s a gift from Nancy. A not-so-subtle thank you for letting her borrow Robin’s new gloves.
Steve has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming out. He lets Robin lace their arms together and wills himself not to break into a run as they wait with Nancy for her change.
It feels like years have passed for Steve by the time they finally manage to get in line for the Haunted Maze.
The line itself appears much longer up close. A fact that proves to be a prickled throne wedged into Steve’s side meant only to make his life more challenging as they settle into the back of the line. Wracked with nervous energy, he’s left bouncing from foot to foot while he waits, his sweaty palms shoved deep in the pocket of his jeans to keep himself from shaking them about. He’s careful to ignore the humored and slightly concerned looks shared between Robin and Nancy at his expense and even more careful to ignore the movement of the line. Citing the old saying his grandmother loved so much, Steve hopes that by treating it like a pot and refusing to watch it, will let the line hurry up and boil. Or at least something to that effect; he isn’t so picky— he’d take anything as long as it got him closer to Eddie.
Robin’s the first to break and take pity on him a few minutes in. Slipping closer to his side, she holds out her hot chocolate in place of an olive branch. “Erica’s going to love the bronze horse your won. You might actually get her to stop calling you Sailor Man with it if you really push for it.”
Steve shakes his head. Declines her offer and then snorts. “No way. It’s Erica. I couldn’t get that lucky. It would take twenty bronze horses, ten live ones, and me clearing out my savings account to get that kind of change from her.”
Robin shrugs at Steve’s decline to share her overly sugary drink and takes a sip, mumbling nearly incoherently around the whipped foam and hot liquid something that sounds almost like it could be an imitation of someone drowning.
“Smart girl,” Robin repeats, tipping back her hot chocolate. A large spot of whipped cream on the tip of her nose.
Nancy moves into action before Steve even has the chance to ridicule Robin for it. Pulling out a tissue from her purse, she wipes the cream off of Robin’s nose with a barely concealed smile.
And before Steve has a chance to bring light to that, Nancy does what she does best and beats him to it again. Shifting around the spotlight, she lets it land on him with all the subtlety of 1,000 watts. “So, Steve… are you excited about the maze?”
“Better question: are you ready to see Eddie?” Robin joins in even though her cheeks are undeniably red.
Steve decides it’s time to make new friends and fumbles with a reply that’s careful to avoid the second question. “Excited? For the maze? Nu-uh. No way. Nope. No.” It never occurs to him that he’s shaking his head too much to sell it or that his drawn-out exaggeration of a reply is doing nothing to help his case. “It’s probably going to be a bust. I told you before, these things are more silly than scary.”
Nancy cocks a brow. “You’re not scared?”
Robin lets out a snort, and Steve chooses to ignore it. And the double meaning of Nancy’s words, well, he ignores that too. He’s already nervous enough, although he refuses to tell them as much. He doesn’t need them getting into his head, but still, somehow, they manage to. The jitters that had latched on to him when he first climbed into his car back in Hawkins are more alive than ever, swirling and twirling inside of him like something fierce after having been made worse by the very clear fact that Eddie had been keeping him at arm's length all this time.
“With everything we’ve seen? ‘Course not. It might as well just be a normal… maze.”
The words are flimsy and pathetic on his tongue, but to his relief, there’s no time for the girls to tear them apart when the line moves up, leaving them at the head of the line. Now face-to-face with an all too tired-looking older man taking tickets, Steve’s half frozen. It takes Robin’s elbow making swift contact with his stomach to nudge him into gear, leaving him stumbling as he pats around his pockets, trying to find the last of their tickets.
After their tickets are taken, the general guidelines do’s and don’ts are explained. Robin is instructed to toss the last of her hot chocolate into the overflowing trash can near the entrance. After minor complaints and an attempt to further get under Steve’s skin with her instance of simply finishing it instead of chucking it, they’re allowed to go in.
One step inside the maze. One step closer to Eddie.
Steve Harrington doesn’t like to consider himself a smug man.
Except he is, especially when he’s proven right about something— something that rarely happens as much as he likes it to these days. And so when the three of them begin their journey through the so-called haunted maze and fail to find anything more than some cheap, tacky-looking Halloween decorations taped along the makeshift walls and a few flickering strobe lights that only succeed in making Nancy and him pause for half a step, he’s ready to crown himself for just how silly it proves to be.
The trio quickly learns that the maze aspect is simply a suggestion in the name. Not all that unlike the festival grounds themselves, the maze turns out to be a series of small hallways and sharp turns. Steve thinks it resembles more of a carefully crafted fire hazard than anything else as one hallway bleeds into another, but one by one, they let the curtain-covered entryways guide them around.
They make it all the way to the end of the first sectioned path before anything remotely startling happens, and the thing is, Steve hears him long before he ever sees him.
It was subtle at first: a rushed footfall came from behind one of the makeshift walls. Then it had led into muttering. A one-sided conversation that was probably something of a self-induced pep-talk. Then the lights had flashed a few times in rapid succession, a means to disorient them, Steve had figured, and then it had happened… some guy in a hockey mask wielding a fake axe covered in blood had jumped from around one of the corners and screamed at them.
Invested in their own whispered conversation, Nancy and Robin had their heads ducked together. The sound of their whispers successfully covered up everything else, leaving them oblivious to the oncoming change until it was too late. The sudden appearance of a screaming body causes Nancy to jolt, clutching at her chest in panic before getting the better of Robin, starting with a jump and ending with the tiniest screams. It gives Steve no choice but to laugh.
And laugh, he does. “Maybe this place isn’t such a bust after all.”
The second section manages to up the ante, proving Steve right once again when bland hallways turn into elaborately decorated walls with trap doors. Out of each, a new horror springs for them, angry and snarling, ready to make them squeal.
The lights dim significantly after their first turned corner, while the moderate dose of creepy music becomes a cacophonic symphony of metal clashing, chains rattling, and chainsaws buzzing. At some point, Robin wiggles her way up against his side as the most affected of the three. Using him like a human shield, she practically becomes an extension of him as she grips his hand in a show of strength that has Steve worried he may never be able to feel his fingers again.
Nancy’s careful to keep her head held high. She only succumbs to the occasional jump and jolt as they move through the long hallway as one conjoined blob and a Nancy. All the while, Steve remains mostly unfazed. Too concerned with keeping his eyes peeled out of fear of accidentally passing Eddie by to pay attention to anything going on around him. He treats every jump scare and haunted decoration like a minor bump in the road and takes the lead, navigating both girls around them without much thought.
It’s not until the second section's last half that Steve pays attention. He tells himself it’s nothing to do with the fact that Robin had clutched at his arm, pulled him down, and mumbled something about Eddie’s part coming up soon. That instead, it has everything to do with it proving to be the most rewarding after a murderous clown threw himself from behind a curtain and headed straight for Nancy. He watches her stone face crumble. As she jumps and stumbles. Her jumps turning into the kind of shrieks he hasn’t heard from her since 1983.
He's useless in the fight against his own laughter. It rings out, out of place, and moderately ridiculous amongst a sea of bloodied décor and face-painted monsters, bouncing off the hallway walls and melting with the loop of supposedly scary music.
Nancy doesn’t share his amusement.
After she regains control of herself, her eyes darken. Her lips form a thin, tight line, her face hardening into a look that would’ve stopped a Demogorgon dead in its tracks. Steve’s quick to grasp his error. His humor fades, shifting to something of concern as he watches her glare at him with a look that indicates how much hell he’s going to pay.
He tries to backtrack. Letting out a nervous chuckle, he leans down between the girls and attempts to make light of the situation. “We should probably get our money back for the tickets because this place is conning people out of their money. None of us are scared.”
But his attempt dies in vain when neither girl responds. Nancy continues to glare while Robin does her best to hide the smirk she wears until a sudden bolt of recorded thunder causes her to jump and bury her face in the side of his shoulder.
It’s too late, Steve realizes. Nancy is already plotting her revenge; he can see it in her eyes.
They move into the third and final section with Steve cloaked in a newfound sense of dread. It weighs him down, turning his original anticipation of finding Eddie into something darker. He feels an awful lot like a dead man walking with an angry Nancy at his side as they push through the last velvet curtain. It’s a feeling that soon manifests itself as the sensation of hot breath against the back of Steve’s neck. The hair there prickles, his skin burning with the feeling of eyes on it as they move through the hallway at a snail’s pace.
The last section proves to be the most intense. No longer dimly lit, their light source comes from a series of pulsing strobes that leave them stumbling over their feet. The discordant sounds of chainsaws and thunder have been replaced by music, although aggressive and loud. Distorted guitars and empathic rhythms guide them along the slightly fog-filled hallway.
Steve has no time to think about how much this section reeks of Eddie’s influence before Robin is letting out a startling yelp. She jerks away from him, too quick and too insistent. Her hand is still laced tightly with his as she stumbles away, nearly pulling his shoulder out of its socket as she attempts to flee towards Nancy, who stands off just in front of them. He’s about to complain and ask what the problem is when he feels it… the same hot breath on the back of his neck.
No longer convinced it’s in his mind, Steve turns his head slowly and is greeted with a face almost pressed against his. Its masked face is some kind of ghoul; he thinks, all wrinkled skin and worrying teeth. There’s artificial hair coming out the top, stringy and white as it rains down against the wearer's cloaked shoulders. All in all, he doesn’t find it to be so much scary as it is concerning, mostly due to his own lack of awareness, but when Steve doesn’t jump or shout, the guy continues to stand there.
Steve doesn’t know what else to do, so he settles for doing what he usually does when faced with these sorts of situations and opens his mouth. “Uh… hey. Hey man. How’s it going?”
The masked fiend doesn’t reply. He just cocks his head to the side a bit and stares. Almost like he’s waiting for something.
Steve assumes it’s him that he’s waiting on, so he tries again, louder this time in an attempt to be heard over the loud, raging metal music still blaring out around him. “You come here often?”
Somewhere behind him, someone chokes on a laugh. Or at least that’s what it sounds like. Steve can’t tell. He’s too busy staring down the ghoul guy in front of him, still waiting for a reply. It leaves his attention too undivided, making it all too easy for him to almost miss the sensation of fingers ghosting along his left shoulder. With his reaction delayed, he whips his head around to the left and finds nothing except for Nancy standing a ways back, her face carefully schooled.
A shiver runs down the length of Steve’s spine, and he’s inclined to blame the hardest of Nancy’s face until the sensation returns. This time it moves along his right, less like a featherlike touch and more like a beckoning. He’s quicker to turn this time, only to come up empty-handed once more. Both annoyed and confused, dread hangs heavy over him as he spins around in full, only to come face-to-face with a cloaked figure that materializes out of nowhere.
His instincts react before his brain does, pulling out a scream from him and sending a closed fist to collide with flesh.
It’s the sound of his name being screamed by Robin that pulls him to. Everything moves too quickly for Steve after that.
The strobe lights die out, replaced instead by typical overheads. The loud metal music that had nearly deafened them when they arrived fades away, turning instead to nothing more than a subtle hum in the background. The ghoul guy removes his mask, leaving behind a red and annoyed but familiar face— Gareth, Steve notes, from Hellfire and Eddie’s band.
Robin’s only a few decibels below a scream as she frets over the cloaked figure that Steve just punched. The figure itself is now hunched over on the floor, bobbing and shaking its head in response to if he’s okay or needs them to get anything.
Nancy’s calling Steve’s name, doing her best to catch him up to speed as the cloak comes down, revealing none other than Eddie Munson himself.
Steve thinks he could probably go for killing him right about now if he didn’t feel so damn bad about the sight of blood trickling down from Eddie’s nose. The blood that he caused.
“Eddie?” Gareth elbows his way around Steve with a sour expression. “You good, man?”
Eddie smiles through the blood. Grinning like the cat that ate the canary and not the nerd that just got decked, he nods. Then he throws his head back and howls in laughter. It’s a harsh sound in the too-small hallway. It bounces off the walls, making Steve wince as something coils inside him.
“Fuck, Harrington! I pegged you as a hitter, but I never imagined you’d be such a screamer.”
There’s not much Steve can do when everyone’s already crowding around Eddie. He’s forced to stand and wait. Watching as Gareth helps Eddie up and checks him over, all the while shooting the occasional daggers at Steve. As Nancy reaches into her purse and pulls out tissues for the blood, and hands them over to Eddie, mumbling something in his ear. As Robin paces around, full of nervous energy, and stealing glances between him and Eddie like she isn’t sure about what she’s supposed to say or do anymore. As crew members dressed in all black came out of the shadows and circled around them, waiting for instructions on what to do next.
As some old guy with a clip-on badge that reads John comes in from a side door and gives Eddie a quick inspection. As he tells Eddie to go on and call it a night and talks about replacements and house rules. As Eddie’s face drops, twisting around into something resigned that’s almost painful for Steve to witness. As John turns to him, acknowledging him for the first time since he arrived, and gives him a scoff. As he tells him and the girls to be on their way in a tone that makes everyone but Gareth bristle.
John leaves through the same door he came, and slowly the crew members that had swarmed them begin to disappear. It’s not long before there’s no one left in the now too-bright hallway but Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Gareth, and Steve.
Eddie’s the first to break the awkward silence that follows, letting out a sigh that sounds as tired as Steve suddenly feels. “That’s my cue. You guys should finish the rest of the maze. Gareth will get you going again, and you can find me when you’re done.”
Everything Steve wants to say seems to die on his tongue the moment his eyes meet Eddie’s. He continues to stand there, gapping and apologetic as he tries to make his mouth form the words that won’t come. Robin reaches for him, sensing his distress, but it’s Nancy who comes to his rescue.
“Actually, Steve should probably go with you to make sure you’re okay.” Steve knows her enough to know that her smile is anything but genuine despite appearances. It’s bright and easy, but there’s nothing behind it but mischief. She leaves no room for argument as she crosses the hallway and loops an arm around Robin, tugging her away from Steve’s side before motioning ahead to Gareth, who has already replaced his ghoul mask. “Robin and I will finish the rest of the maze and find you two after.”
Somewhere between watching as the strobe lights come back on and the girls move away, Steve concludes that this is as much a punishment for Steve as it is a gift for Nancy when his stomach twists, the wings of a thousand butterflies battering away inside him as the realization of being alone with Eddie falls over him.
Eddie leads him through a trap door into another hallway. They bypass the last of the maze before ducking out of an exit door that opens out into a mostly empty lot behind the attraction. He follows Eddie, nearly too eager for his own damn good, as they make their way over to where a stack of discarded hay bales sits, propped up against the side of the building, and take a seat.
It’s dark out now and several degrees colder than it was before. And with the isolation from the maze and the backdrop of an empty lot, it’s almost eerie as they settle into silence, surrounded only by the very distant sound of screams of horror, children's laughter, and spooky music.
Steve can’t decide what’s worse, the eeriness or the awkwardness, and he isn’t sure which to blame for the chill that runs down his spine. Or maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s simply the horrible turn the night has taken and the way in which he seems to have messed up with Eddie long before he ever got the chance to get started.
His stomach continues to churn. Steve can’t tell the excitement from the guilt, but he knows they threaten to consume him if doesn’t hurry up and break the silence soon enough. “What are you even supposed to be anyways?”
It must be the wrong thing to ask because Eddie’s face drops. Whatever excitement Steve felt fizzles out, leaving behind only the gnawing guilt. “Or hey, I mean, you don’t have to tell me. If you don’t want to, of course. It’s cool. I understand. I just wanted to say that it looks pretty cool. Or metal? Yeah, no. Totally metal.”
He tries to backtrack, just like he had with Nancy in the maze. Tries to make up for the foot he feels like he’s stuck in his mouth, but unlike with his attempt with Nancy… Steve finds he doesn’t have to lie this time.
Eddie does look very metal. Tucked under a black cloak that hangs down to his boots, it’s tattered and torn. Shredded and filled with enough holes that it looks like it’s been to war and back. There’s a large gold necklace around his neck made up of small skulls, a singular skeleton hand, and some coins and gems, each slightly different from the last. It pairs perfectly with the layered belt wrapped around Eddie’s waist, which also contains a series of small skulls, coins, and gems, as well as some small black leather bags.
It dawns on Steve that the amount of detailing and care that went into it all can only be found in hand-crafting. Then he remembers what Robin said about helping Eddie with his costume and realizes just how much time and effort must have gone into all of this.
Even his typically hole-riddled black jeans have been replaced with a flawless pair, and his white sneakers traded out for black boots. Instead of his usual band tees, Eddie wears a black button-down with puffy sleeves that reminds Steve of the covers of the books Mrs. Wheeler read when she thought none of them were paying attention. He’s left most of it unbuttoned, opting to show off more than his fair share of skin, but there's paint instead of fair skin and tattoos. Bone upon bone, it’s the design of a skeleton and is laid out to look like Eddie himself is nothing but some undead creature. It matches his face, which Steve realizes is also painted to resemble a skeleton for the first time tonight.
The most impressive, however, is the small intricate golden crown that sits on top of his mess of dark hair. Made up of three points, the center is the longest, and it houses a gem that matches those found in Eddie’s necklace and belt. Steve might not know what it is that he’s supposed to be, but he does know how good it looks and how much it had fit Eddie, all larger than life and bursting at the seams until he had come along and ruined it all with a single punch.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll tell you.” Eddie looks nervous, like he’s worried about how Steve is going to react. He fiddles with his rings for a second, letting his eyes dance around the dark depths of the empty parking lot to keep from having to watch Steve. “I’m Vecna.”
Steve decides to wait to respond, hoping to let his eyes meet Eddie’s before he says anything so that he can try and soothe some of Eddie’s nerves, but metalhead doesn’t give him the chance.
“Well, the DnD version, anyways. Not, you know, the other guy.” Eddie chews on his lip, drawing his eyebrows together in the way that Steve has come to note is a sign that he’s lost deep in thought. Then, very slowly, very quietly, as if testing the waters, he says, “Or well, an interpretation of. Technically, he has many forms. Usually, just an eye or like a hand, but those aren’t that scary. I mean, I guess if I’m being completely honest with you… they are, but they’re kinda hard to do for a costume, so I decided to take some creative liberty. Sue me, right?”
Right when Steve thinks Eddie is finally finished, Eddie laughs through a nervous exhale.
It’s a little stilted. A little restless and awkward as Eddie continues to toy with his rings and look anywhere but at Steve. There’s fresh blood still seeping from his nose, a slow trickle that threatens the cleanliness of Eddie’s button-down. Steve’s fingers itch with the need to reach out and help him, but he doesn’t want to overstep, and Eddie clearly isn’t done talking, so he bides his time and waits. It’s all he’s done the entire night anyways, he figures a few more minutes won’t kill him.
“We— Wheeler and I —, well, big Wheeler, not baby Wheeler,” Eddie barrels on. “we were talking about copes. Or I guess you could say our lack of, and we figured everyone’s got something, right? Something that helps them to make sense of it all somehow, or at least learn to live with it. We figured this could be the start of mine. The first haunted maze on the road to recovery.” He laughs like it’s a joke, but the smile never reaches his eyes, and something inside Steve aches. “I don’t know. It’s stupid, man. Right? I know it is, but I…” Eddie trails off, studying Steve briefly from his sideways glance. “I think I was just tired of feeling so small, and I know it’s stupid. And weird, and totally not how great monster hunters are supposed to—"
“It’s not,” Steve interrupts, cutting Eddie off before he can spiral out too far. “Stop that.”
It must surprise Eddie because his head jerks up, his eyes meeting Steve head-on for the first time since they’ve taken a seat. The wrinkle between his eyes deepens, growing more prominent as he tries to make sense of what Steve’s getting at.
“It’s not?” He parrots.
“It’s not.” Steve doesn’t leave him any room to doubt. “This stuff, your stuff, it’s not weird. Nerdy? Yeah. Confusing? Absolutely, but it’s not weird, and it’s not stupid. It makes you happy, right?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to respond. This time, he’s the one charging ahead. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. And it’s not like there is a wrong or right way to cope with any of this shit… so if it helps, then I say fucking go for it.”
Eddie watches him with an unreadable expression, blood still trickling down his lips and chin. Steve decides he’s had enough of waiting, unable to bear it any longer. He plucks the tissue Nancy gave Eddie from his hands and moves so that they’re both sitting on the same hay bale. Once he’s close enough to reach with ease, he brings one hand up to fit against Eddie’s jaw, holding him still as the other hand comes up with the tissue to dab at the blood a few times before they both drop back down into his lap.
“‘Sides,” He does his best to sound casual despite the limited space between them. “It’s totally metal or whatever.”
“You really mean that?” Eddie asks quietly. Steve nods, and Eddie’s mouth forms into a gentle oh.
It’s a look so earnestly open and raw that it makes Steve want to soar and crumble simultaneously. It makes him want to grab him in his arms and make it better, all while fighting off anything that dares to try and makes him feel bad ever again.
Mostly, it makes him want to be open too. Raw and honest in a way he usually tries to avoid, and all because he gets it now. Maybe better than he’s ever gotten anything else.
Eddie hadn’t kept him in the dark out of spite or because he didn’t trust him. Eddie did it because he was worried about what Steve would think of him if he opened himself up. Eddie did it because he was terrified of Steve seeing all the parts of him and deciding they were too dark and rough to handle.
It’s a bit too familiar, but Steve knows what he needs to do for the first time in what feels like years. “Eddie, I rode around with a nail bat in the trunk of my car for two years. I sleep with the closet light on and can’t close my eyes unless I’ve talked to Robin, Dustin, or Erica. The smell of bananas makes me sick. I don’t think I will ever be able to have a dog, and I can’t look at Christmas lights without flinching…” With bated breath, Steve trails off. He’s hesitant as he pokes around in his head for the right words to finish with.
Eddie stays quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue.
Satisfied with his decision, Steve forges on. “So, when I say that I get it, I do. Maybe not this exactly, but I’ve been there. We all have, and none of us are going to judge you for how you decide to handle things. Especially not me.”
Slowly, Eddie’s mouth begins to curve up. A dimple pops in the corner of his cheek and then the other. A glorious sight, Steve takes it as a good sign and feels the air he hadn’t known he was holding rush out of his lungs.
“Okay.” The older boy nods, eyes practically aglow with the sort of brilliant sparkle that Steve’s only come to associate with Eddie Munson. “Totally metal? It’s that good, huh? You know… I did want it to be a surprise, but I didn’t expect it to be so surprising that you’d punch me for it.”
Everything about it is a joke, and Steve knows it. From the breezy way Eddie says it to the splitting grin he wears as he does. Still, he turns serious. Unable to share in the humor as his eyes pull back down to the sight of the last trickles of blood just above Eddie’s lip.
Without thinking, the hand of Steve’s still holding the tissue reaches upwards. Dabbing carefully at the blood until one of Eddie’s hands comes up to wrap around it, stopping it in its tracks.
“Relax, Steve. Really, it’s not even broken.” Eddie insists. “I’ll live, but you can kiss it better if it makes you feel better about it.”
Once again, Steve knows it’s a joke. That it’s Eddie being Eddie, and he probably shouldn’t be so hung up on a meaning that isn’t there, but he finds himself doing it all the same, even as Eddie lets go of his hand and lets it fall back into Steve’s lap. He finds himself wanting to kiss it better. To kiss Eddie in general.
Eddie’s already started talking again, moving along past his comment as if it was nothing more than a simple discussion of the weather. He rambles on in that erratic way of his about something relating to the festival, and Steve tries to listen. Really, he does. He tries to follow along with each and every word, but no matter how hard he tries, his focus circles back to Eddie’s absolutely-not-real-offer.
He tries to forget it, but then Eddie laughs too hard at one of his own jokes and makes himself wince in pain when his cheeks crumple up around his nose, and suddenly, Steve can’t stand it any longer. The words are out of his mouth before he ever has a chance to think twice.
“Can I?”
Eddie pauses, confusion etching his features. “Can you… huh? What are you talking about?”
Steve doesn’t know where the sudden surge of courage comes from or why all of a sudden, his tongue feels significantly thicker when he tries to speak. All he knows is that if he doesn’t at least try, he might die right here and now. “Kiss it better? Can I do that? Would it be okay?”
A number of expressions dance across Eddie’s face. Steve isn’t quite able to catch them all, but he does watch as Eddie pauses. As he opens his mouth to speak before snapping it shut and then furrows his brows like he can’t tell if Steve’s screwing with him or not. He’s about to apologize. About to write it off as a joke and pretend it never happened when Eddie gives him a small, curt nod.
It’s all the confirmation Steve needs to close what remains of the space between them. He hesitates for a moment before he lets his lips brush against Eddie’s nose, the feathering of a desperate kiss. It takes all the restraint Steve has not to lean into it, afraid of further hurting the already injured spot. When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Just enough that he can get a good look at Eddie and try to get a gauge on his reaction.
What he finds is an unusually shy-looking metalhead, all pink cheeks underneath his white and black brushstrokes. Steve can’t help but think of how good it looks on him and just how much more he wants.
Their eyes lock, leaving them staring at one another with faces too close to be anything short of normal before Steve’s eyes flicker down to look at Eddie’s lips. It’s enough to cause Eddie to let out a startled gasp. Barely bitten back, it crackles into the air around them, catching fire from the electricity between them.
“Can I?” Steve asks again. This time there’s no need to clarify. Eddie knows just what he means.
Eddie's own eyes drop down to catch the sight of Steve’s lips, and Steve can’t help himself. He licks them, wetting them just enough that it makes Eddie swallow hard. He’s more than grinning when Eddie’s head begins to nod. Frantic and fast, it’s an action every bit as desperate as Steve feels, and this time, there is no hesitation. He cups Eddie’s jaw again, fitting his palm flush against the side of the other boy’s face before he dips his head and catches Eddie’s mouth in a kiss.
Both their lips are cold from the chill of the late October air, and Eddie’s have the slightest metallic taste of blood and bitter paint pigment, but neither of them seems to care as they slot together like mixed-matched puzzle pieces.
It doesn’t take long for Eddie to catch up. He snakes a hand around Steve’s neck, his fingers intertwining at the base of Steve’s hair as he pulls him closer. There’s a neediness in the action, and Eddie’s fingers are cold where they rest and tug at Steve’s hair, but somehow it manages to be the best thing Steve can recall ever feeling. It’s enough to send a shiver down his spine, and this time it has nothing to do with the eerie or wrong turn of the night.
Steve loses track of how long they stay like that, intertwined as much as they can be on bales of hay pressed against the side of a haunted maze. But their kisses are tender and sweet, slow and satisfying in a way that makes him unable to make himself care how long it’s been now that they’ve made some sacred haven in an isolated parking lot.
When they finally pull away, they keep their foreheads pressed together, their noses brushing just so. Sharing shuddery breaths, Eddie and Steve ride the euphoric high together, letting their fingers intertwine with every breathless chuckle. Time all but comes to a stop between them. A concept so lost between whispered nothings and promises to do this again. Steve wants to tell Eddie how excited he was to see him today and how sorry he is about what happened. He wants to tell him about the bet that was never made and the way both Nancy and Robin seemed to have had him figured out before he figured himself out.
He wants to promise never to hurt him ever again. To vow to help him cope however he chooses and stand by his decisions.
He wants to kiss Eddie again, and again, and again.
But before he can do any of that, they’re startled apart by the sound of giggles and footsteps headed their way.
They barely manage to untwine themselves and straighten up enough to be presentable when Robin and Nancy come into view. The girls themselves are laced together at the elbows and donning matching grins. Nancy’s hair is slightly disheveled, while Robin’s freckled face resembles a tomato. Both their lips are swollen and red, and the moment they take one look at Steve and Eddie, they burst into giddy laughter.
Their high-five doesn’t go unnoticed this time, nor does the way Eddie joins in with them as he intertwined his fingers back with Steve’s. And by the time Steve starts laughing, the only thing on his mind is how glad he is not to have placed that bet after all.