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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Bruce being just as guilty of introducing Jason to people like he is but a small little guy.
Bruce at gala supporting youth literary comprehension programs: Have you met my son Jason? As stubborn as kids can be I managed to get him to attend.
Beneficiary: oh that’s wonderful! Does your son enjoy literature?
Bruce: oh absolutely! That’s what convinced him to even come! He has so many respectable hobbies for someone his age. Kids these days rarely find value in the classics but not Jason! Honestly he reads more, and more in depth, than I do! He’s a little mechanic too! When I first saw him he was trying to take the tires off my car with a lug wrench that was bigger than him! It was quite a sight and a rather unconventional way to meet your son but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Beneficiary, blinks as they try to process all the proud dad info: …well that’s lovely, we have some activities for the children of the donors so that none of them get too bored!
Bruce: that’s great! I’ll let him know. Jason, can you come here for a moment?
A very tall, wide, and muscular man turns around and raises an eyebrow.
What a coincidence, that dude must also be named Jason.
He walks towards them
Jason: what do you want old man?
What
Bruce: there are activities at that table if you’re bored.
Huh
Jason: thanks for the memo but I’m not exactly at coloring book age anymore remember?
Bruce: I suppose you’re right :(
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you get used to it, but it's tiring, because they need you to understand your own life as a series of goalposts. what college are you going to, what's your major going to be, whatcha gonna do with that, oh where will you settle down, when can i expect grandkids.
for the longest time my goals have been so blurry that they track into each other, their undefined edges slipping quietly back into the soft night. today i want to be a writer; tomorrow i will want to be a doctor, later i will wish i took that law school free ride. how the fuck do people just know what they want to do with their life?
where do you want to be in five years? i want to be alive; which is a huge step for me. ten years ago i would have said i want to be asleep and meant i hope that i'm dead by then.
but i want a yellow kitchen and a stand mixer. i want a garden and a fruit tree (cherry, if i can make that happen) and a big yard for my dogs to play in. i want to come home and read poetry out loud to someone and have them close their eyes to listen. i want a summer watergun fight. i want to make snowmen. i want to be the house to go to for halloween. i want my life to settle around me in a softness, for it to lay down gently. if i am very, very, very lucky, i want to travel; finally go someplace overseas.
of course i don't know what i want to be doing professionally. what i actually want to be doing is curling up beside my dog, settling in to read. i want to be making myself a cup of good coffee.
i can't answer the other questions. whenever people asked me what do you want to be when you grow up, i used to say i hope i'm happy.
i hope i'm still kind, five years from now. i hope i never get jaded and mean. i hope i have stayed in therapy. what do you picture yourself doing? when will you actually be an adult about this? why are you so afraid of being ambitious?
am i not ambitious? the other day i rearranged my furniture which doesn't quite fit into my apartment. i watered my plants. i'm going to try to propagate a cherry seed. my five year goal is to spend more time laughing. to lie down in a patch of sunwarm moss. to relax for a minute. to close my eyes and think oh thank god. this is why i stayed. this is finally it.
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"Hair dyes or perms or just a quick snip, you can always count on your ol' pal Clip!"
it's about time i officially shared my design for Clip from my hairdresser au! here's the silly boi himself!
a.k.a. the most complicated character i've ever designed...
close ups and additional comments under the cut!
that's my boi, despite his crazy design, i love him. his silly top knot hat, the horn-like points around his faceplate, his speckled colours, his four arms, and his funky pants. he's just soooooo fun.
Clip likes to play games and knit! he even made the patchwork pants he wears (he made Sun and Moon a pair too, but they're too precious for them to wear... also a little gaudy to wear in public—doesn't stop Clip tho!). He actually makes everything the boys wear, since there's not a lot of things in their size/shape.
instead of resting at night, he can be found in their living room, playing Kirby 64 for the nth time and/or knitting something. he's just too restless to stay still, he's always gotta be doing something and if it isn't gaming, knitting, or hairdressing, then he's up to No GoodTM.
Clip... likes popping balloons. he says "Goodnight!" with each popped balloon and once he's done, he tosses up the scraps like confetti all while giggling joyfully.
needless to say, he is not fun at parties. Sun and Moon don't let him near balloons for this reason.
and yes, he has sewing needles on hand at all times. for fashion emergencies... and for unsuspecting balloons.
Clip's not allowed to have a phone (just imagine all the in-app purchases Sun and Moon would have to deal with), but he likes to keep up with his customers and their games, even if he doesn't get their fixation over bluenets he'll never openly admit it but he prefers curly-haired blond hunks that look sweet in soft pastels but could also squash him like the spider he is
also, he's great at microbraiding! though i imagine if Sun and Moon are free, they'd come help to shorten the wait but also to compete and see who braids the most (Clip always wins of course—make anything into a game, and he's winning)
aaaaand there's this! i wanted to make sure Clip would be able to freely rotate his waist so his arms could have their full range of motion, and this was the solution i came up with: a crop top on top and a wrap around his waist. and Clip here is being a sneaky little scamp about it.
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