Chapter Text
Since everyone and their grandma had seen their ambulance drive across the lawn like something from The Dukes of Hazard , they were going to use that to their advantage.
They just had to figure out what that advantage was.
And quick.
Steve recognized the guy in the suit as the dude that did the weather report, and he was known for being waaay too perky to talk about weather at 6:00 am.
“Not all of us can’t all go in through the emergency room entrance." Dr. Owens said, eying the crowd through the windshield. “There are too many eyes on that door to get Eddie safely in the building without being recognized. And if we tried to play him off as a body, they would take him to wherever they are storing the mass causality bodies.”
“Wait. Not to the morgue?” Erica asked, eyebrow raised. Dustin pointed at her and nodded in agreement.
...should he be more worried that the kids’ go-to reaction was not to freak out about the words, “mass”, “causality”, and “bodies”?
Jesus Christ, they were all so jaded.
Steve silently shook his head.
Owens sent the shrimps a bit of a harried smile. “Not in this case, guys. Hawkins just had a major catastrophe happen, and the local government is treating this like any other national disaster. That means the potential for lots of bodies, alive and dead. The whole ER is basically a massive triage unit. The whole first floor probably has been turned into a massive triage unit. The cafeteria is more than likely the new place for less critical patients to go. As for dead, the morgue is too small to take on that kind of expected volume. They’ll take them out of sight from the public eye to an organized collection point that they can keep refrigerated.”
This was really the worst time for Steve to think about the freezer at Scoops Ahoy . Just how much damage had those hits to the head done to his brain, huh? But how could he not think of Scoops at a time like this? The last large disaster the town of Hawkins had was the “fire” at Starcourt . Kind of hard not to think about your first job when your pseudo-dad died in a secret Russian base under the mall where you worked slinging ice cream, and you watched your kid’s shitty stepbrother sacrifice his life to a monster while wearing a sailor suit.
Some wires obviously got crossed between the times his brain got bruises bashed against his skull. The memory of Billy Hargrove’s death and hearing about Hop somehow tasted like two melted scoops of red velvet dripping out of a chocolate-dipped waffle cone.
It makes him almost ralph just thinking about it.
So, yeah. The Scoops freezer. Pretty big walk-in. If Starcourt had been legit, would that be the place to send the dead bodies? Store some poor little old lady next to a tub of red velvet? Talk about a P.R. nightmare!
Thankfully, Robin did not do her mental telepathy, and Eddie’s perceptive ass didn’t read any of that off of Steve. Instead, the two of them glanced at each other before Robin talked to Owens. “So, either way, Eddie can’t go through the ER. He’ll either be arrested or turned into a human popsicle.”
Oh, Steve really did not like that. At all. The hairs on the back of his sweaty neck stood up. The taste of luke-warm crimson ice cream and the image of the little old lady being replaced by Eddie was-
No.
Fuck, no!
Steve turned in his seat and pointed his finger at the general area of the people in the back, swallowing back the bile. “No, nope! There will be no human popsicles. No frozen foods. No arrests. Everyone is going to stay at a normal temperature and out of jail!”
Dustin eyed him for a second, but didn’t comment. Instead, he turned back to Dr. Owens. “I’m kinda with Steve on this one. How do we get him into the hospital with all of these fuckers watching?” Dustin tugged on his curls in frustration.
“Language, Henderson.” Steve muttered, pulling on his own crusty locks. Their problems should have been fixed once they got to the hospital. But now there was yet another obstacle keeping them from getting treatment and keeping Steve from Max and Lucas.
He had to get to Max and Lucas!
“Isn’t there some special secret government thing you can do, Owens?” he asked next, grasping at straws. “Does the government not have some secret door or something for these kinds of things?!” The Russians made an entire fucking top-secret base under a mall. Surely the United States government has some tricks up their sleeves. They went to the moon, for Christ’s sake!
“There is.” answered...huh. The less douchey military medic. “It was set up before we were given our orders to accompany Dr. Owens. With special clearance, we enter through the loading bay outside of the kitchens, through a secured hallway, down the blocked off elevator, and into the control room. From there, we could safely navigate our injured to the Mother/Baby Unit, where we have Miss Mayfield and Mr. Sinclair.”
Steve saw Dr. Owen’s jaw drop. “Since when did they move them? Why didn’t you say any of that before?”
The other medic stared blankly the doctor. “You didn’t ask, Sir.”
Wayne leaned in from the space by Eddie’s feet. “And he still didn’t ask or know to ask. You answered the kid up front.”
Both medics had some silent communication before the useless oaf one spoke up again, addressing Dr. Owens. “We mean no disrespect, Sir. We were given strict orders to not disclose the location of the entrance unless asked specifically by whoever was in charge of our mission.”
Steve’s brow crunched, and saw the same confusion cross his friends’ faces. “Huh? That doesn’t make sense. Dr. Owens didn’t ask. I did.” A lightbulb went off in his mind... but the idea was crazy!
There was no way that military officers meant that they saw Steve as their commander! They were assigned to Owens, who has government clearance and a medical degree! Steve barely passed high school and makes minimum wage at Family Video ! There had to be something that he was missing. Or they were missing by the continued questions on the other’s faces.
Everyone went quiet for a second, letting that sink in. Dr. Owen appeared to be offended. Wayne, however, looked like he was about to laugh. They seemed to understand what the guy was saying.
Erica was the first to recover. “Hold on. Last time I checked, Steve Harrington was not the boss of me.”
Okay, so Erica clearly came to the same conclusion Steve had, so he wasn’t a complete idiot.
Also, he was totally the boss of her. Privilege of being the babysitter.
The less douchey medic, for the first time showing some actual emotions, smarmily answered back. “And last time I checked, little girl, the ground didn’t open up to actual hell, body parts didn’t grow back after they were taken off, and zombies didn’t exist!”
The man was breathing heavily, looking a little too close to a breakdown for Steve’s taste. He must have looked like a nut to the others too, because Erica didn’t even lay out a scathing come-back.
“I have served my country for fifteen years, and I have never seen anything like this! If that teenager in the driver’s seat can save lives, set a shoulder, calm a crowd, and kill a zombie with one throw? I’m following his orders!” And then, of all things, he pointed a finger at Eddie. “And you!” Eddie reared back, pointing to himself in question, wide-eyed and silenced by the air mask. “Yes, you! You might be a breathing pin cushion, but that guy calling the shots seems to think you and the young lady with the scrubs are the people to listen to.”
“Huh. Less Douchey Psycho Medic paid attention between eating and card games.” Steve thought to himself.
Steve briefly glanced over at Nancy. Her arms were crossed, and she was scowling at the military guy.
He quietly groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. That headache was coming back.
Right. He would like to think that the military goons Owens brought were just sexist assholes...but they said that Robin was someone to listen to.
Which meant...this was his fault.
Of course it was. Get in line, folks!
By trying his hardest not to talk to or about Nancy, the medics got the impression that Nancy Wheeler was not someone Steve relied on or trusted. Which was the furthest thing from the truth! How many times would they all be dead without Nance?! She was often the voice of reason, and had deadly aim!
He can't exactly scream, "She's my ex, and that breathing pin cushion over there keeps thinking I'm going to run off into the sunset with her, and that somehow means that he's going sailing to death!"
Ugh. Why was everything so hard?
The medic continued to talk to Eddie. “That means he’s going to follow whatever idea you have to proceed, unless the lady in the passenger seat says it’s stupid. Then he listens to her.”
Steve shifted in his seat. Was he really that transparent?
His and Eddie’s eyes locked for a moment. There was something inquisitive, searching in his sharp dark eyes, but something also so...gentle, easing in his gaze. Like the manic dumbass was looking for something, but also silently telling him, “Really? You listen to me , Stevie? Well, I gotcha. Leave it to me.”
Eddie tugged his eyes away first. Steve let out a silent, shaking breath. He gripped the steering wheel with his bandaged, naked fingers. Fingers that suddenly wanted to be carrying Eddie’s ring in a different way than he intended.
“He’s your friend, Harrington. He’s your injured friend. He’s your very male , probably straight , injured friend! You will not jump through that little window and kiss the living daylight out of him. You will not propose fucking marriage , no matter how much you worship the ground the shithead walks on! You’re nineteen, he’s wanted for murder, and two dudes don’t just go from friendship to married like some two-for-one breakfast for dinner diner special!”
That guilt hit the pit of his stomach again. The stolen kiss from lips brittled with dry blood. Steve had promised Eddie that he wouldn’t do anything without his permission again, and he meant it.
(Of course, Eddie made it clear that he only had to get permission to touch his ass again, but Steve would hold firm on the silent promise for his lips, too. Because he took something of Eddie’s that he couldn’t freely give.)
Dustin burst in with a cocky, weaselly laugh. “Ha! Shows how much you know. Steve listens to all of us. But especially me , because I’m the smartest.”
Steve and the rest of his friends groaned. “Jesus, Henderson. Tone down the ego, there isn’t enough room in this ambulance as it is.”
Dustin just shrugged, but the smug smile didn’t go away. “You’re just mad because it’s true.”
Ignoring Dustin, the medic addressed Eddie again. “I want to hear what you think we should do next.”
Shooting a fervent glance to everyone, doe eyes locked with his for only a moment before Eddie looked down and furiously scribbled something on the paper from earlier. When he was done, he snapped his fingers at Dustin and weakly thrust it into his hands. Dustin quickly scanned the words, squinted a couple of times, but ultimately seemed to agree with what Eddie said. “If I’m reading this right, Eddie says, ‘Ask Wheeler. She always has a plan and will save our asses.’”
Instantly, the frost Nancy had been emitted thawed. Her arms uncrossed, and she shot the medics a self-satisfied smirk.
Holy shit.
Hooooly shit.
Jesus Christ.
If he was down for something very gay, when this was all over, Steve wanted to at least suck Eddie Munson’s dick.
He would get on his knees and beg to worship that motherfucker.
Maybe, if Eddie wasn’t completely grossed out by the thought, maybe he would run his ringed fingers through Steve’s hair and cup the back of his neck. Maybe Eddie could help guide him to how he wanted to be taken. Would Eddie like his thighs kissed? Would he let Steve run his nose over barely-there hairs on his tummy? Would he call Steve his “good boy” if he used his tongue just right?
Because Steve wanted all of those things.
But he’s only ever been on the receiving end of a few blow jobs. He’d never really thought how to make a guy cream.
He really, really wanted to make Eddie cream.
He’d only ever gone down on girls. This was a whole other ballgame that he was becoming desperate to play.
Ha. Ballgame .
Eddie deserved all the blow jobs in the world, but especially for helping fix this Nancy situation.
Plus, he really is smart. Nancy probably had a plan that would save their asses.
This proved to be right.
Nancy tilted her head in a brief, curt nod in Eddie’s direction. “Thank you, Eddie. As a matter of fact, I do have a plan.”
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