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come-down-that-tree · 2 months

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Prologue Previous

Come Down That Tree! (An aftermare story)

Chapter special: Dream’s takeover!

HEY! YOU, YEAH YOU! I’m taking over this chapter, xoxo. Dream.

“Hello there~

You may know me as Dream! Or maybe “one of the guardians of feelings”? “The positive one”? “The ultimate helper around town”?

I’ve been called many things: “Dreamcatcher”, “Sunray”, “hey you”, “Princess Sunshine”, “strong bony guy”…

And my favorite, I do not get to hear it often, “brother” or “twin”!

Because I am a brother and a twin to the other known guardian of feelings (yes we’re two on the job), the very purple-clothed Nightmare!

Well, if you’re from around here, you probably already know that?

Oooor maybe you’re from far away and still new to this?

Let me tell you a bit about me, this village and my other half!

I should start at the beginning.

You see, Night’ and me? We were fully aware of our duty right after our creation. Our mother barely had time to whisper the story before she fully fused with the tree we now guard! Why did she do that? It’s a bit of a gruesome tale, let’s leave that for now…

So, we twins, were borned spirits, bodiless and so full of the apples’ energy (the tree of feelings is an apple tree, isn’t that funny? Why not a cherry tree? I like cherries a lot…), acquired our body in the form of a skeleton monster’s shape and got released into the world!

I learned later that babies aren’t supposed to already know how to walk and talk and had to wait a few years sometimes to be as tall as we started our lives as. But then, it was just the way it was. We aren’t built quite the same as others.

We’re guardians.

We met the first villagers five years later (or so Nightmare says, I was bad at numbers then) and it was a whole experience.

They approached us very carefully, asking permission to settle down down the hill, promising they wouldn’t touch our treasure and would show us things we never saw before.

They offered us food and clothes and stories and many other things we did not know the use of. You see, our inane vocabulary stopped at what our mother knew about and even then, we lacked any true understanding (and genuine interest) about most stuff we grew up without.

I was very wary of these men back then and let my twin do aaaall the talk. So more useless words spoken, incredibly worthless compared to shouts of delight running through the long grass, compared to the low song of the stars twinkling high and compared to the earable pressure of one hand in another when the sun rises…

I despised those men. They were loud, foreign and constantly disrupting the peace of the forest nearby. But Nightmare was fascinated…and kept reaching out, delighted by the new knowledge he could gain from chatting with some and in his new favorite toys, books.

So I reached out as well, once the first children came around. I appreciated having new friends to run around and learning new games was nice. The beginning was slightly bumpy when I realized none were that interested in the games I enjoyed before meeting them.

But despite that, they somehow grew on me fast.

I liked that period. The villagers started to bow less and dropped the formal titles the kids didn’t wait to ditch. I played all day, sometimes with Nighty, sometimes without him, and when the sun set, we’d cuddle against the tree, my twin reading aloud a story book and I’d always fall asleep right through it, dreaming of half tales (when our mother wouldn’t lurk around my sleepy mind).

Books really always were my brother’s thing, isn’t it?

Thankfully, nobody snitched on the fact yet I’m still awful at reading anything more complicated than market panels… Nightmare would never let me leave without running me through horrible classes once again.

I’m not study-smart, ok?

The switch in attitude happened somewhere between the second and third wave of travelers joining the rapidly expanding I think.

I didn’t notice anything. One day, we would happily run together around half-built houses… The very next, we started walking very different paths.

I was always running down the streets and he always stayed put at the tree, claiming reading was more interesting or that he would go later.

I didn’t notice how fast we drifted away. I never really knew if something somehow got between us or just if that was the fate of two brothers with divergent interests…

Ugh, maybe that void where a strong connection had once been was one of the reasons I had such a miserable phase of experimenting things with people they claimed would “make me happy” but we’re… not talking about that!

At this point, you might start to wonder why I’m telling you all this?

I just wanted to talk about something with you that happened recently in my life, in our life, that I have mixed feelings about and I believe some context was needed!

And that conversation stays between us! I trust you.

So…

A season ago or so (I never said I got that much better at numbers, do not look at me like that), I dragged a homeless unconscious guy back home.

Now, it doesn’t sound very good, said like that, but how can someone fall on what looks fairly similar to your build, all passed out on the dirt and not think “I must drag him to my tree?”

I know I’m right, now next thing.

I’m an hospitable guy so when I see no one is going to give a stray a home downtown, of course I tell him he can put his butt in my spot of grass!

I didn’t really take into account that allowing a stranger in our home would upset Nightmare and, that, maybe is at least part my fault for dumping that poor guy here…

I think, however, that Geno was a needed change in our life.

Maybe a dangerous change, teetering along the line of good and bad ideas each day something happened…

But despite the fear and confusion after those few “accidents”, I can’t deny Nightmare’s true smile, I missed him.

I’m worried however.

No amount of aweing at surprising them sleeping close or sharing stupidly sweet moments can take away the fact, the village’s atmosphere is more… sour than usual.

Especially since the last (bad) event!

Last verflor festival, I went with Nightmare in the village with the objective of making the most of the day and sweeping some flowers to redecorate our mother’s scar. It didn’t go as planned.

I lost Nightmare in the crowd when I got swept away by the music and the playful offers of dance by the local children.

Maybe the fact I got used to waltzing alone around there is the main reason it took me so long to notice the devastating absence. Or that old couple dominating the place with their dance was that good.

Regardless of the reason, I let go of his hand and wandered alone.

In fact, while I was a smidge anxious when I noticed… I thought he’d be fine and that he’d probably just go back to the tree first!

That maybe he’d pout at me for leaving him and after some banter, we’d tell our day to Geno and all!

That’s not what happened.

And you know that, don’t you?

I searched around for a moment but I kept getting robbed into activities or helping (something that strangely did not happen when I was still holding Night’s hand).

The sun was already down before I managed to flee back home, energy buzzing at the thought of finding my missing brother).

I was right about one thing.

I did find him here.

Small and shaky, curled up in Geno’s arms.

I was welcomed by a hard glare from our guest and cruel silence.

They both refused to tell me what happened and I didn’t insist.

I felt guilty enough like that.

It’s been some time since then.

Things are more or less back to normal.

I’m not stupid however…

And I do not like the dots I’m starting to connect.”

End of chapter 18... Go to chapter 19?

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont

Geno!Sans belongs to @/loverofpiggies Nightmare, Dream and dreamtale belong to @/jokublog

#aftermare #come down that tree!#chapter 18 #special chapter #wooooooooo I hope you enjoyed the lil' special pov chapy!#I'll admit this chapter was supposed to be funny and light-hearted #here what I wrote down on my plan at the beginning for the chapter: ''18D-special chapter- tell lot of stuff about how the 2 are lovebirds'#but boy... is worried #so sweet got cut for that #that was so fun to write however #happy april's fools btw :D

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sp0o0kylights · 2 months

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.