Chapter Text
Eddie never tires of sunsets.
He takes a front row seat to nature’s own nighttime spectacular every evening. Something about its constancy comforts him. Everyday, the earth spins, and blue skies will give way to orange and red hues. The star that shines at the center of the galaxy will ultimately dip below the horizon.
Eddie’s seen so many things, so many of man’s attempts to dazzle an audience. Nothing will ever dazzle him the way a sunset does. Its occurrence is constant, but every sunset is unique. Different mixes of the palette; sometimes nature paints with a little more red, sometimes a little less. When she’s feeling generous, she paints the clouds the most delicate shade of pink.
He even likes sunsets on gloomy days, rainy days – days where the colors are fighting the clouds. The last remnants of sunlight barely visible as the dark masses in the atmosphere swallow it up.
All these things feed into Eddie’s appreciation of sunsets, but there is a factor that influences him above all. Once the sun sets, the moon is allowed to shine.
Eddie loves the moon; beautiful, mystical, sometimes even ominous.
When the sun sets, it is allowed to be nighttime. And nighttime is Eddie’s favorite. There is just something so thrilling about it, a heightened sense of awareness – of being.
No matter where he is, he always takes a moment to watch the sunset.
Tonight, is no different. Eddie is perched on the trunk of his car, one foot resting on the chrome bumper, the other is folded up to his chest. He takes the last drag off his cigarette as he loses the sun to the skyline. He sighs contentedly, releasing the smoke from his lungs into the air around him.
He slides down from his perch, careful not to let his sneakers leave a scuff on the paint. He drops the cigarette butt on the pavement, ensuring it is snuffed out with a step and twist of a rubber sole. Eddie glances at his wristwatch, telling him it’s time to get moving, as his shift is just about to start.
Eddie checks his pockets, ensuring he has everything he needs; phone, wallet, keys, cigarettes, lighter, stethoscope, sheers, penlight, pen.
Check.
He reaches into his car to retrieve his badge, clipping the reel to the ‘V’ in the neckline of his scrub top, ensuring he locks up before he turns heel and walks toward the towering structure of concrete, glass and metal that has become his home away from home.
The automatic doors open with a touch of effort, as if they are tired from, no doubt, years of service. As he passes through, he glances up at the slightly sun-faded, backlit sign that reads ‘Hawkins Memorial Hospital – Emergency Room’.
The smell of a chemically induced clean invades his nostrils, and he breathes it in deep. His senses are always a bit overwhelmed when he first walks into work. There are a hundred smells, a hundred sounds, and all the lights are a little too artificially bright. It is especially so at night, all of his senses are their most heightened after he admires the sunset, and the moon has begun her temporary reign.
Despite the sensory flood, there is one thing that trumps all else, one smell he simply cannot ignore. He closes his eyes in bliss as the aroma gives him a momentary high.
Blood.
The place absolutely reeks of it, in the best possible way. Eddie is always afraid someone might notice the way his eyes shift when he first enters the building, as he quickly adjusts to the delicious scent invading his very being. He averts his eyes from those bustling in the halls, as he does not want anyone to catch the momentary flicker of color in his irises.
When he no longer feels a dull buzz in veins, he knows it is safe. It lasts so briefly now, so much easier to control. He’s adjusted during his few years of service to the hospital.
He approaches the timeclock and taps his badge against it. The small display screen comes to life.
‘Edward Munson, PA-C. Clock-in?’
Eddie accepts his punch and heads to the trauma office for handoff. Time for the night to begin.
+++
Eddie’s a few hours into his shift. It’s a relatively slow night. Hawkins isn’t a huge town, but it is a bit isolated, which drives a lot of interesting cases into the emergency room.
Eddie is sitting behind the nurses’ station, fingers quickly zipping across the keyboard as he types his note. The latest trauma alert was for a patient that had fallen off a roof. The poor guy was trying to secure a few Halloween decorations when he lost his footing.
He was pretty banged up, with a few broken ribs and a decent laceration on his cheek, as he’d landed on his right side. He was lucky though, there were no spinal injuries. They’d keep him a night or two on a unit just to observe him and make sure he didn’t develop any respiratory compromise from the fractures.
The guy had been in good spirits. His wife, however, did not share that same sentiment. She flew into his cubicle like a bat out of hell, and Eddie saw his primary nurse start to rise from her seat to go speak to the frantic woman. Eddie stood, giving the nurse a signal to sit back, he’d handle it. She shot him a thankful smile and turned back to her charting.
Eddie approached, rubbing sanitizer gel between his hands and clearing his throat as to alert his patient and visitor to his presence. It was enough to interrupt the hurried questions spewing from the woman’s mouth, as she turned her gaze to meet Eddie’s.
“Oh hey, Doc! Meet my wife!” His patient beamed up at him, the pain medications obviously having the desired effect.
Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Still not a doctor, Paul.” He offered a hand out to the woman. “I’m Eddie, I’m a PA on the trauma team. We’re taking care of your husband.” Eddie offered her a warm smile, softened his eyes.
Her frightened blue irises met his deep brown ones, and Eddie could sense the shift. She visibly seemed to relax, placing her hand into his and giving it a shake. “Oh, th-thank you,” she began, unable to pull her eyes from Eddie’s for a moment. “I’m Francine.”
It was one of Eddie’s most useful talents, he liked to think. Granting a bit of calm to those who are in otherwise, highly stressful situations.
Eddie pulled over the visitor’s chair in the cramped cubicle for her and gestured for her to have a seat, which she followed almost instantly. Once seated, Eddie leaned an elbow on a siderail on Paul’s stretcher. “It okay if I talk to the wife, Paul?” Eddie glanced over, and the man in question had his eyes closed, hand in the air displaying a big thumbs-up. “Better you than me,” he piped in his morphine haze.
Eddie could feel the panic exuding from the woman named Francine, so he fed her small doses of his ‘charm’ when she began to spiral. He could by no means override someone’s emotions, but he could dull them enough to make them bearable. He took time explaining the plan for her husband and fielded every question she could throw his way.
When he seemed to have satisfied her questions, Francine slumped in her chair a bit. She let out a long sigh and looked over at the man, now completely asleep, in the stretcher beside them. “It’s all my fault…” she began, looking up at Eddie with wet eyes. “I asked him to go up and put the stupid decorations on the roof, knowing it was getting dark.” She looks down at the hands folded in her lap, sniffling. “He could have been paralyzed, or-or dead because of me.”
Eddie felt a pang in his chest. He met so many people over the years, so many people in this profession, and they never ceased to make him feel. Humans were truly amazing.
Eddie reached forward and placed a hand on Francine’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. Accidents happen all the time. Trust me, this isn’t the first time someone’s fallen off a roof, and unfortunately, won’t be the last.” He gave a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s clear that you care very much for your husband.” She still looked so guilty, Eddie tried to lighten to mood. “He’s a riot by the way. The guy’s been cracking me up since he arrived.” She looked up at him with those watery eyes, but that last comment tugged the corner of her lips up in a sad smile.
“Heh, yeah that’s my Paul. He’s always the jokester.” Eddie grabbed a small box of cheap, itchy tissues from the side table and offered her one. She accepted and blotted her eyes. “When I get home, I’m throwing those stupid decorations away. It’s not worth this, never again.” A small huff that resembled a laugh left her as she smiled smally up at Eddie.
He gave her shoulder another squeeze and offered a smile in return. He backed off, taking a step back, seeing she was in better spirits now. “Maybe they can go a little somewhere closer to the ground,” he offered with a chuckle. “He’s lucky to have you, Francine. It’s apparent you’ll take good care of him when he gets out of here.” Eddie grabbed another pump of sanitizer gel from the dispenser next to the cubicle. “Dr. Sinclair will be making rounds again in a little while, so I’ll be seeing you guys again then. I’ll let Paul rest for now, I’m just going to finish some documentation. If you need anything, just ring the bell, and someone will come over to help.”
The woman smiled up at him, nodding her head in understanding. “Thank you, Eddie. I really appreciate your time. I feel a lot better, honestly.”
Eddie nodded in return. “That’s what I’m here for.”
+++
Eddie is back from mid-shift rounds with Dr. Sinclair, and he let his colleagues know he’d be taking a fifteen. Francine and Paul were doing well, Paul resting while he waited for an inpatient bed to become available. Nobody likes waiting around in the emergency room, but in Eddie’s care, patients and families tend to be a little more malleable. He’s a favorite to work with amongst the emergency room staff for this very reason and more.
Eddie heads outside for a cigarette. The automatic doors groan again, and he’s hit with a blast of chilled, October air. The first thing that grabs his attention is his majesty, the moon, shining high in the black sky. She stands out amongst the dots of stars that twinkle beside her. Calm sinks into Eddie’s very bones at the sight of her.
He finds his usual bench, a rickety old thing made of wood. It resonates with him, stands the test of time. Before he sits, he digs into the deep cargo pocket of his scrubs to retrieve his pack of cigarettes and lighter. One of the nurses, an older woman named Pam passes him on her way back into the hospital. She clicks her tongue disapprovingly, eyeing the cardboard box in his hand. “Bad for you, Munson. I keep telling you, “ she scolds in a sing-song voice.
Eddie likes Pam. She’s like a mother hen amongst the nursing staff. She’s warm in an environment that tends to turn people a little cold – a little harsh.
Eddie pops one of the white sticks in his mouth, watching Pam as she continues toward the doors. “Thanks, Pam. I’ll keep that in mind,” he retorts, words slightly muffled around the cigarette. It’s their typical exchange. Pam just laughs as she disappears into the building that is far too bright, and smells of iron and salt.
Eddie is alone again and lights his cigarette. He takes a long drag, letting it sit in his lungs a few counts before expelling it into the crisp, night air. He watches his little cloud dissipate as it floats upward, into the light of the lamppost above him. If only Pam knew, these little white sticks couldn’t hurt him. There wasn’t very much that could. Physically at least.
What could hurt him, was being alone. It was nights like these that Eddie ached a little, his altered heart thumping in his chest to a melancholy beat. He was thinking about his patient and his wife, Paul, and Francine.
Eddie had been knee-deep in writing another consultation note, when he’d heard Paul laughing. He was one of those guys that was a little too nice, a little too loud, like he was compensating for something. His laugh was a little infectious, so it stole Eddie’s attention. He looked up at them, over his computer monitor, and they were so lost in each other. Francine must have been sharing the fate she’d plotted for their Halloween decorations that had landed Paul in this situation.
They were holding hands over the side rail of the stretcher. Paul’s laughter died down, but he still spoke a little loud. “Nah babe, don’t throw ‘em out - you love them. You’re cute to think that though.” Francine had blushed in turn, Eddie could smell it.
Sitting there, under the lamplight, Eddie wondered what it was like to have someone to worry about. To have someone to think so frantically about. To cherish someone’s life so much he’d be willing to trash potentially sentimental objects if they posed any form of harm to their well-being.
To love someone that much.
To be so twisted with it, that emotions practically dripped out like a tangible thing.
He wondered if someone would ever worry about him.
Eddie’s shoulders bounced with a silent laugh at that. It was a bit ridiculous, to think of someone worrying over Eddie. He was a superior being, heightened in almost every way. He had very little to fear, very little that posed any kind of threat to him.
Still, it was something he secretly yearned for. The human part of him longed for a connection.
He looked up at the moon, admiring her beauty. The way the rest of the sky looked dull, mundane in comparison.
He exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in his lungs, this time in a bit of a huff from his nares.
He wanted to cherish something more than the moon.
Sirens were blaring in the distance. He brought his attention back down to earth and could make out the red-blue flash of emergency vehicle lights far down the road that led to Hawkins Memorial.
That was Eddie’s cue to cut his break a couple of minutes short and get back inside. That sound – those lights – it usually meant whoever was in that ambulance needed him.
Eddie loved being needed. He craved it, in fact.
He just longed to be needed in a different way.
The sirens and lights grew nearer, and Eddie was up.
For now, this would have to do.
+++
Pam clapped a hand on Eddie’s back, smiling up at him as he was stripping off a pair of vinyl gloves. They were ruined with blood. He pulled one inside of the other to avoid getting anything on his skin before they were discarded into the proper bin.
“Another soul survives, thanks to you, Eddie.” Pam praised, starting to clear the room of the absolute state it had become during that code. They’d received a young girl, twenty-seven years old to be exact, after a motor vehicle accident. The girl’s leg had gotten mangled, her femur bone clearly broken, along with a slew of other injuries. She’d been bleeding severely from her leg when she arrived. Eddie and the rest of the team had managed to stabilize her before she was whisked away to surgery. Orthopedics and trauma were heading in.
Dr. Sinclair had asked Eddie if he wanted to assist, but he declined, letting one of his colleagues take the honor.
Eddie had become quite accustomed to being around blood. He was nearly perfect at coping with its presence. Nearly. The operating room was unpredictable, and it was difficult to stare at it, be so close to it for such an extended period. He learned that quickly when he’d almost had to scrub out of an exploratory abdominal case.
Codes were easy to deal with. There was often a lot of blood, especially with traumas, but the chaos of it was usually enough to keep Eddie’s mind occupied. He’d become quite the guru at containing his hunger. Most blood all smelled the same anyway, nothing that ever made him lose control.
Eddie just took what he needed, and he trained himself to need very little.
That’s why, when Pam started to take down the almost empty bags of blood they’d rapidly infused into the patient, Eddie stopped her.
He returned the gesture of a hand on the back, answering her earlier compliment. “It wasn’t just me, Pam. This is an amazing team.” He reached over her, having a head of height on the petite, middle-aged woman. He began to take down the bags and their tubing. “Let me help you. I’ll get rid of this.”
Pam smiled at him, never to think he had any intentions beyond tossing the bags in the ‘red bin’ of the dirty utility room. That was routine, that was were anything with blood, or other hazardous fluid went.
She had no reason to suspect a thing.
“This is why you’re my favorite PA. Always so willing to help. We need more people around here like you.” She fed him more praise, and it stroked a nerve somewhere in the back of Eddie’s mind. A few of the nurses and a housekeeper came back into the room to help Pam clean up.
Eddie simply held up the ‘garbage’ in his hands, in a gesture like ‘cheers’.
“Happy to.”
+++
Eddie punched the code into the door to open the dirty utility room, slipping inside. The room had a foul smell, emanating from the ‘red bin’ and multiple garbage pails contained within.
Although it sometimes turned his stomach, it also was a deterrent for others to frequent this space. Eddie also knew there were no security cameras in this room.
He waited a moment, ensuring he could not sense anyone with intention to intrude. When he was certain he’d have no company, he pulled one of the bags of blood off the IV spike. He tossed the tubing into the bin, as it was all saline at this point, as the nurses had diligently flushed it through, trying to get as much of that precious blood into their patient as possible.
No matter the technique, there was always a little left in the bag. He brought the opening to his lips, allowing him to slip into his baser self. He could feel his canines elongate, pushing out from his gums, forming fangs. This always happened, despite the fact he would not be biting to elicit the blood he was about to consume. It just happened, naturally.
It was the same with his nails, which jutted from his nailbeds into claws.
The same with his eyes.
Eddie began to feel a bit wild.
He sucked in a deep breath to ground himself before he took purchase upon the small opening of the bag and began to suck on it like a kid’s juice pouch. He drank with a bit of fervor, trying to extract every drop of the contents. He’d managed to get a quarter mouthful and pulled away. He swirled the red liquid around on his tongue. He appreciated the thickness to it - the metallic flavor. He savored a moment before swallowing it down. He shuddered as it created a delicious warmth in his belly.
Eddie didn’t get to drink often, but when he did, he felt it deep.
He felt warm, sated.
He felt a renewed energy and strength coursing through him.
He looked at the bag, knowing he’d be fruitless to try and suck any more blood, as the bag had collapsed shut. He used a sharp nail to slice down the seam, peeling the plastic apart. He licked the inside, like the wrapper of an ice cream, or foil lid from a peanut butter jar.
He’d liked indulging in those little things, long ago. Long ago when he was only half of himself – of what he is now.
When he was certain he’d gotten every drop, the plastic bag made its way to the bin.
They’d transfused three units of blood to the young girl.
He licked his lips, then ran his tongue over the fronts of his teeth, feeling the sharp tip of his fangs. He started the same process on the next bag.
For Eddie, who fed so infrequently, this was an absolute feast.
+++
After Eddie regained his composure, he emerged from the dirty utility room. He felt like he’d been in there for hours. It always felt like that when he fed - like some sort of experience.
In reality, he’d only been gone for about ten or so minutes.
Eddie felt great. He was so used to running on empty, that every time he got even the smallest amount of blood, it felt like a small bit of electricity was running through him.
He re-entered the main treatment area, just in time to see a familiar face rolling toward him.
Paul.
The guy had a dazed grin plastered on, likely having recently received another dose of morphine. He waved at Eddie lazily as he was being pushed in his stretcher, down the aisle.
“I got a room, Doc! I’m blowing this popsicle stand.” Paul pressed two fingers to his forehead and pushed them away in a loose interpretation of a salute.
Eddie laughed, stopping as Paul was pushed nearer, wanting to see his patient off. “Still not a doctor, Paul. I’m glad you got a room. You’ll be more comfortable in a bed.”
Behind the transporter pushing Paul’s stretcher, Francine poked her head out. Her expression was warm as she stopped in front of Eddie, as the transporter continued past, pushing Paul out and on his way to one of the nursing units.
“I just wanted to thank you again, Eddie. I appreciate everything you did for my husband and for taking the time to talk to me.”
Eddie nodded. “Not a worry. I’m glad he seems to be doing okay. No need to thank me, I’m doing my job.”
“You seem to be pretty good at it. I just wanted to ask, will you uh, will you be following Paul anymore, now that he’s going to a unit? It’s okay if you’re not, I just feel like I can trust you…” Francine asked, chewing her cheek as if realizing she may be imposing something on Eddie. She smelled like nerves again.
Eddie touched her arm, commanding her gaze again and shooting a small bit of calm back into her, like earlier. “Hey, no worries. The daytime team will follow-up with him on the unit in the morning. At night we kind of live in the emergency room, but Paul is under my team’s care. If the nurses have any concerns about him, I’d be the one they call, and I would go see him. I’m here the next two nights as well. I’ll make sure he’s okay,” he promised. “Go up and see him to his room, and then get home and get some rest. You’ve had a stressful night. Remember to take care of you too.”
The woman seemed to melt a little, as if she’d been waiting for someone to give her the ‘okay’ to worry about her own well-being. That it was ‘okay’ that she be able to rest, despite her husband’s current state.
“You were really meant for this profession, Eddie. I better go before I lose the transporter. I’m not sure I’d be able to make my way in the maze of hallways alone. Thanks again!” She chimed as she hurried away to catch up with her husband.
+++
It was getting close to the end of his shift, which meant night was ending too.
Sunrises painted a beautiful sky. He saw the change in hues through the glass panes of the hospital’s windows. There was always someone that would comment about how pretty the sunrise was at the end of their long shift. Someone else would always comment they liked seeing sunrise because it meant they’d be able to go home and sleep soon.
Sunrises painted a beautiful sky, but they didn’t quite rival sunset. In fact, Eddie didn’t care much for sunrises.
They took the moon.
His shift would end, and he’d have to leave and find something to occupy the hours until the next one.
Eddie didn’t sleep, so sunrises didn’t assure him anything worthwhile.
He looked at the clock, seeing about an hour left until his ‘dayshift’ colleagues would be coming to relieve him. He started looking over his report sheets to organize his morning handoff when Dr. Sinclair was standing before him, requesting a favor. Eddie was interested.
“My son has a basketball game on Saturday, so I switched coverage. It’s going to be one of the general surgeons, Dr. Djo.”
Eddie nodded, knowing exactly where this was going, he couldn’t help the bit of snark that escaped him. He was lucky he was pretty friendly with Dr. Sinclair, as he cut him off. “So you want me to work on Saturday, because Dr. Djo wants a PA with a bit of experience to help him out that night with the traumas... And you probably already mentioned that you’d get me to help… I nail that?” Eddie offered his attending a Cheshire grin. “Enjoy Lucas’ game, Dr. Sinclair. I’ll be here on Saturday.”
The other man blinked back at Eddie a few times, processing all that he’d just said. “You sure? Considering you just predicted exactly what I was going to ask has me feeling like you’re asked to do this a little too frequently.” Dr. Sinclair was frowning at him. “If you have other plans, I can ask someone else. I know you do a lot of overtime, and we appreciate that. But you do have a life outside of here we have to respect.”
Wrong.
Eddie wishes he was that lucky.
“It’s all good, I don’t have plans this Saturday.” Eddie says, as if he has plans on any Saturdays. “Tell Dr. Djo I’ll be here.”
Dr. Sinclair smiled, thanking Eddie again.
Eddie thanked him as well, and he meant it. He was grateful to have something to do that day. If it weren’t against such human constructs as ‘labor laws’, Eddie would work 24/7.
It wouldn’t leave any time in between shifts. Any time alone.
Trauma Alert, Emergency Room, Trauma Room
Trauma Alert, Emergency Room, Trauma Room
They both had paused as they listened to the overhead announcement, beckoning them to their next patient. Eddie looked up at the doctor and grinned. “And here I was thinking earlier that tonight had been slow.”
Dr. Sinclair rolled his eyes. “The second you think something like that around here, you know it’s about to get busy. Thanks, Munson.” He grumbled, as they both head to the ambulance bay.
+++
“What do you have there, Buckley?”
One of the nurses was there with her computer, efficient and ready to start entering data into the charting system as the patient was unloaded from the ambulance and would be whisked into the trauma room. Nancy Wheeler.
Eddie was still working on getting to know her. She was a newer nurse, young. But she was smart, and she was no-nonsense. He only vaguely knew of her through the stories told by a younger Wheeler.
Eddie and Dr. Sinclair were already present, listening to the report being given by one of the EMTs, Robin Buckley. Eddie knew her a little better. She was awkward but had a wicked sense of humor. Eddie would often overhear her in the EMS breakroom with her buddies. She had a lax personality and always quick with a witty quip. However, when she was on duty, she was focused.
“Forty-four-year-old male, stabbed at the train station. We noted three wounds, one of which is still actively bleeding. Not sure if he was on something, he was belligerent and fighting us when we picked him up. Our paramedic medicated him so he’s no longer fighting, but still wired on whatever he may have taken. He’s getting hypotensive, last pressure was 80/48…”
Eddie wasn’t listening anymore. He caught a scent of something that commanded his complete attention. He turned his eyes in the direction it tracked.
He walked over nearer the ambulance bay, vaguely thinking he’d have to catch the rest of that report when he got into the trauma room. He gathered enough and Dr. Sinclair was listening to the rest.
Something in the air was saccharine. It was a sweetness he’d not known before, permeating the chemical, metallic and overall artificial smells of the hospital. It even snuffed out the scent of mundane blood that absolutely flooded the building.
This was something entirely new, different. Eddie didn’t know what it was, or how to even describe it properly. It called to him, his baser self, his instincts, demanded to track its source, and never let it leave his sight.
He wanted to possess whatever it was that owned this delicious scent.
Eddie found himself licking his lips.
He fought the urge, fought the fangs and claws from pushing past their 'human' boundaries. His eyes may have deceived him, as he cannot control their shift. If they did, nobody seemed to notice in all the chaos unfolding before him.
He fought the urges, but he still found himself planted, captivated.
He watched as the paramedic began unloading the gurney from the back of the ambulance. The corner of Eddie’s lip curled up as he saw an EMT beside the patient, holding a nonrebreather oxygen mask to the patient’s face in one hand, while applying pressure to the patient’s active wound with the other.
The patient was thrashing in the gurney’s restraints, but this EMT held steady, clearly getting a workout as he tried to move with the man’s jerks.
Somewhere in the back of his distracted mind, Eddie took pity on the man in the gurney. He always did when patients came in, still victim to whatever substances had hold of them.
Eddie had been there, done that. In another life.
Eddie was still a bit overwhelmed by this scent, but he hadn’t pin-pointed the source. There was too much fresh blood in the mix, clouding the keen nose of the hunter.
Through the fogginess in his mind, Eddie acknowledged that he didn’t recognize this EMT, had never seen him before. He eyed him down and up, from laced-up boots, to uniform, to sun-kissed skin, to a frock of hair that seemed to have received a good amount of love and care.
Even in the wild movements the guy was making to keep up his hold on the patient, brown-blonde locks fell in such a way that seemed intentional.
The paramedic got the gurney on the ground, the young EMT following along seamlessly. He hopped off the back of the bus without taking his hands away from his duties. He began to hurry toward the trauma room as a nurse came in and began helping to steer the gurney.
They passed with Eddie just looking on, dumbly. He was still entranced, trying to find this enchanting scent. It wasn’t until it was right under his nose, right as this unknown EMT brushed past, literally bumping his elbow into Eddie’s side, because Eddie didn’t move despite the group clambering toward him, that Eddie was able to find it through the cloud of the patient’s blood.
‘There you are...’ Something grumbled in the back of Eddie’s skull. It was something that hadn’t been present in a very, very long time.
It hung under Eddie’s nose like candy floss. He could swear it clung to his skin, as if it were something tangible. It was thick, sweet, and almost suffocating in the best possible way.
It emanated from this young man that Eddie had never laid eyes on before.
Robin had poked her head out of the trauma room, where she had moved with Nancy and the rest of the team, readying themselves for the patient.
“Harrington, what’s his o2 sat. now?” She called out, watching the group as they hastened toward their destination.
The sweet-smelling EMT craned his head to read the monitor, seemingly a master at multi-tasking. “We’re at 88%, Buckley.” He responded, and just like that, they rounded the corner through the trauma room door and were out of Eddie’s sight.
Harrington.
Harrington.
Eddie was stuck in the same spot, glued to it in fact, as something in him yearned to know everything he could about the man called ‘Harrington’.
Darker thoughts are about to cross Eddie’s mind when Dr. Sinclair pops his head out of the trauma room doorway. “Munson, get in here!”
It’s just what Eddie needs to shake himself out of his trance. The world is back. Eddie felt as though he’d broken through the atmosphere, and just come crashing back all at once. The other smells, the sounds and overall commotion of the current situation hit him like a freighter.
He enters the trauma room and gets to work.
+++
When the chaos clears, Eddie doesn’t stay to help clean up the trauma room this time. He doesn’t give the two used-up blood bags a fraction of a thought as he excuses himself and practically sprints to the EMS breakroom.
He forgoes the opportunity to drink in order to follow the trace sweetness that lingers in the air. Eddie hopes it isn’t just remnants of ‘Harrington’ long gone.
Eddie is renewed when the trail is stronger as he nears the breakroom. He is almost certain that the thing he craves is just behind a door and number-punch lock. Eddie hurriedly presses in the code but he’s fumbling. It beeps to indicate the password fails. He tries again, it beeps, fails.
Eddie is about ready to rip the goddamn door off its hinges, doing everything in his control not to, because he could easily- when it opens, just before he attempts the passcode again.
Standing before him is the source of what is currently causing him to unravel. It blinks at him, eyes at about level height with his own.
Hazel is a color he never considered much before, but it sucks some of the breath from Eddie’s lungs.
It makes no sense, but he can only find himself thinking of the hues of the sunset he so loves, and how these eyes may be able to stand rival.
Captivating.
Harrington.
“Forgot the passcode? Happens to me all the time. Come on in.” The mouth that belongs with those eyes speaks. The body they are attached to moves aside, granting Eddie access to the breakroom.
Now Eddie is the one blinking as he tries to figure out what he’d intended to do here. He comes back into himself for the second time, remembering he’s at work, remembering to act human.
He’s thankful for Robin Buckley in that moment, as she cheerfully waves at Eddie and beckons him inside to their EMS sanctum. She has a hunk of sandwich tucked into her cheek, causing her to mumble as she speaks. “Munson! Come on in, you gotta meet one of my new partners!” She gestures at the man who is still currently holding the door open for Eddie.
Eddie nods and remembers how to function again.
He tucks back in to himself like a loose shirttail, and he is righted.
Eddie enters the breakroom, and the door is allowed to swing itself closed, the padlock chirping as it locks again.
“Munson, Harrington.” Robin introduces, pointing from Eddie to the other male. “Eddie, Steve.” She repeats the gesture.
Steve.
The word, the name plays in Eddie’s mind like a song.
Eddie loses himself a quick second again, but quickly regains composure.
“Munson is one of the trauma PAs here, and honestly, one of the best PAs I know. Don’t tell anyone.” She says with a slight warning tone at the last part.
The man called Steve stretches a hand toward Eddie, offering him a handshake in greeting.
Eddie looks down at Steve’s hand, something in him warns that shaking his hand is a bad idea, like it’s something he won’t be able to look back from. Like it’s a commitment.
Eddie needs to act normal, act human. He puts his hand in Steve’s and shakes.
It’s warm, and it shoots electricity through Eddie’s veins.
“Nice to meet you, Harrington.” Eddie offers him a warm smile, and Steve returns it in earnest. Eddie uses his last name, not trying come off too personal. Most of the staff and EMS crews all refer to one another by their last names. Eddie doesn’t want to overstep.
Eddie keeps Steve’s hand in his a moment longer than what is probably socially acceptable, but catches himself and quickly retracts. Steve doesn’t seem to notice; he simply leans back against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest.
“You too. I’m uh, new to Hawkins and just started with the company. I’m sure we’ll be bumping into each other from now on.” Steve chuckles, a bit sheepishly.
Eddie swallows hard and nods. He’s about to open his mouth to ask Steve a follow-up question, when Robin’s radio starts up, indicating that they need to get going to a new emergency.
“Wrap it up, Harrington. Time to buzz.” She stands up, brushing sandwich crumbs from her uniform shirt. She walks over to the door, exiting first and holding it open for Steve to follow.
Eddie watches as Steve pushes away from the wall, towing behind Robin. He turns his head to look back over his shoulder at Eddie.
“See you around, Munson.” Steve says with a smile. Eddie hopes that’s a promise.
They both leave, and Eddie is left standing in the EMS breakroom alone.
That darker part of Eddie is reeling. It’s screaming two words in the back of his skull, reciting them over and over like a prayer.
Steve. Harrington.
For the first time in a long time, since he became reborn, Eddie feels alive.