Written for the @steddiemas challenge.
The Sound of Silence
Prompt Day 3: Needing To Be Quiet | Word Count: 952 | Rating: T | CW: Post-Apocalyptic | Tags: Canon Divergence Post-S4, End of the World, Just the Two of Us, The World is Bleak, But We're Together
Set in the same little universe as my Miles to Go drabble but can totally stand alone.
They're walking down another abandoned road, in another abandoned state, and Eddie has lost all sense of where they are these days. It's been a while since they've seen a major city, and Eddie's inner compass has never been great, but it's worse now with no landmarks, and just empty road after empty road. Steve always seems to know where they're going, or if he doesn't, at least he acts like it.
Eddie's about to ask where they are, when Steve stops in front of him and holds up his fist.
Eddie immediately pauses behind him. Tries not to breathe, tries not to make any noise at all. Because he knows the system by now. At first all these hand gestures were foreign to him. Was he supposed to steal home or start doing the YMCA? Either seemed possible.
He knew the hand signal for devil horns. And that's about it. Somehow, Steve hasn't worked those into their shorthand, yet.
But with time, he's learned to read Steve's body language like a goddamn book. He's Samwise, following his very own Frodo.
And right now, Steve's telling him to stop. And if Steve's telling him to stop, he's also telling him to be quiet. That's been the hardest thing to learn, here, in the after. He can't just talk all the time. But he still wants to, all day long. He wants to tell Steve what he's thinking. He wants to narrate their journey, as they walk to god knows where.
But he can't. Because it's not safe to make that much noise, not here in this horrible remainder of their world.
He doesn't know where they're going, anyway.
Steve will think there are others, still out there somewhere else, for whatever reason, and they'll walk.
And walk.
And walk.
But there never is. It's always just abandoned buildings, and the constant quiet.
Do you know how quiet the world is when there is nobody else living in it?
No cars. No stores. No nothing.
Hardly any birds, either. Eddie misses the sounds of the birds, the insects. But the wildlife has started to dwindle, if not outright disappear. Eddie doesn't know if the demodogs and demobats are thinning the herd, or if disease has just taken hold. It's hard to tell, honestly. In this world Vecna left for them.
When Steve's hand falls slack, lowering to his side, Eddie knows that whatever Steve thought he heard is either gone, or never existed at all. So, Eddie hitches his backpack further up onto his back, and keeps walking.
Keeps looking at the back of Steve Harrington's head, just like he did in more than one class he'd failed in high school. Steve's a natural leader. Eddie understands why he had followers back then. Why he was King Steve. This is a different situation, to be sure, but Steve took charge in this hellish world.
And Eddie needed someone to take charge of this, because he wouldn't have made it this far on his own. No way in hell.
Looking at the back of Steve's head today, Eddie thinks Steve needs Eddie to give him a haircut again. But Eddie is hesitant to mention it. Because the last time he did, Steve just wanted him to shave it all off, but Eddie doesn't want that to happen. For some reason, Eddie feels like the day that Steve Harrington gives up on his hair, all hope is lost.
So, Eddie won't say a word. He'll be quiet. He needs that last bit of hope. That last thing, from a world destroyed.
Eddie is still walking, looking at his feet, when the clatter of wood on the road makes his heart race with fear. He looks up and Steve is picking his dropped nailbat up off the asphalt. Eddie reaches for the spear and trash can lid shield strapped across his back, but there's no need. Steve has control of his preferred weapon again, swinging it with precision. He smacks the demobat, sending it flying, then skittering across the abandoned highway.
Steve's stock still.
Waiting.
"Steve," Eddie whispers.
"Sshh," Steve whispers back, and Eddie stays quiet. Stays still.
Waiting to see if it's still alive. Waiting to see if it brought friends.
It hasn't, it seems, and Steve digs in his backpack. Puts on his heavy leather gloves, and carefully walks towards the crumpled, gray mass.
And just like he did on that dry lake bed, Steve steps on it, this time with his boot.
Then he pulls it in half.
It's dead now, for sure. And Steve tosses the pieces into the ditch, takes his gloves back off, and walks towards Eddie.
"I hit a home run with that one," Steve says with a grin, putting his gloves back away, and Eddie smiles at him.
Steve looks tired, he always looks tired, but at least he's smiling. Eddie never takes that for granted, not these days.
"You want to find somewhere to hole up for the night?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. He's always ready to hide out for a few hours. Resting. Sleeping in shifts. Or if they find somewhere that feels safe enough, which isn't all that often, sleeping at the same time. Curled against each other.
Instead of speaking, Eddie makes some random movements with his hands. Including pressing his palms together, laying his cheek on them, and closing his eyes. The universal sign for sleep.
Steve is shaking his head, amused, but he falls in step with Eddie. Beside him this time, not forging ahead. Strolling now, instead of leading the pack.
Eddie reaches down and takes Steve's hand into his own, lacing their fingers together.
And Steve holds on tight.
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