Chapter Text
“Wayne!” Eddie stormed through the trailer like a whirlwind, thuds and crashes following him as he moved, his footsteps remained constant though which told Wayne that his boy wasn't stopping to clean up the mess that he was leaving in his wake, “Wayne!”
“In here, Son,” Wayne shouted, staring at his half-shaved face in dismay, he wasn't going to get to finish his shave, was he?
“I’m shocked, appalled and disgusted, Wayne!” Eddie announced, bursting into the small bathroom and - after a quick check to make sure his uncle was fully clothed - piercing on the precarious laundry basket in the corner that immediately creaked under his weight, “well, maybe I shouldn't be shocked, but I still stand by my statement.”
“Are you quite done with the dramatics yet?” Wayne asked.
“Dramatics?” Eddie asked with a huff, “there is nothing dramatic about this Wayne, it’s actually a tragedy.”
Wayne looked at Eddie and behind the clear armour he was wearing which came out as loudness and impassioned speeches, he could see the glimmer of tears in his red-rimmed eyes and the tension he was carrying in his jaw. Something was genuinely upsetting his boy.
“Alright, how ‘bout you get two mugs of cocoa going and let me finish shaving so I don't look like I’m tryna play Santa and Mrs. Claus in a one-person duet,” Wayne muttered, “and I’ll join you in a moment.”
“Yeah, alright,” Eddie said with a sigh, “but for what it’s worth, Old Man, you could never pull off Santa.”
“Brat!” Wayne called after him, although not without affection.
He had a few ideas about what may be causing Eddie to be so upset, most of them were to do with his kid’s long-term boyfriend - Steve - who was quite often the cause of so much concern although not through any fault of his own, of course. No, the concern came from what was seemingly Steve’s complete inability to realise what wasn't normal in daily life. It had come from years of being ‘raised’ by neglectful nannies and abusive parents and whilst Steve didn't say upsetting things on purpose, sometimes realising what had been the norm throughout his youth was like a knife through the heart.
So Wayne finished his shave as quickly as he could without nicking himself as his razor was getting a little too blunt and with Christmas fast approaching he didn't want to splurge on a new blade when he had Eddie and Steve to think about. After a quick splash of aftershave and a quick check in the mirror that there wasn't any leftover foam hiding behind his ear, he left the bathroom.
Eddie was sitting in Wayne’s armchair, nursing a steaming mug of cocoa as he stared out the window at the heavily falling snow.
“Does Steve have snow chains on?” Wayne asked idly as he picked up the other mug that was obviously intended for him.
Eddie nodded, “I helped him with them yesterday, apparently he’d never used them before,” he scoffed, “honestly, can you believe that? For a guy who loves his car so much you’d have thought he would’ve used snow chains in the winter, especially here .”
Wayne knew what he meant, the snow that had started as a thin misting that morning was now coming down fast and thick making it completely white outside and he could barely pick out the shape of the neighbouring trailer.
“I should make sure the Mayfield’s heating hasn’t packed in again,” Wayne muttered idly, “remind me to call in after we have this chat.”
Eddie nodded silently, still staring out the window, Wayne wanted to sigh loudly and shake his nephew’s shoulder and remind him that he was the one who had interrupted Wayne’s shave with his little temper tantrum, but he wouldn't. He’d known his boy almost his entire life and he knew that when something was bothering him - truly bothering him - he needed to be given time to sort his thoughts out before being prodded to talk.
“I got Steve a present,” Eddie said.
“Alright,” Wayne said, speaking slowly as to gauge Eddie’s reaction to each word, “that doesn't seem like a bad thing, so why does it seem like it is?”
“It’s not that that’s bad, it’s how confused he was,” Eddie said, twisting some of his hair between his forefinger and thumb tightly before cramming it into his mouth.
“Confused?” Wayne asked.
“Mhm,” Eddie mumbled around the hair, before sighing and spitting it out so it stuck to his cheek, “he didn't know why I got him something because Christmas time is for kids and good people.”
“He said that?” Wayne asked, only partially surprised. Sure, he knew the Harrington parents were douchebags of the highest order, but for them to ruin something such as Christmas for their son? That was just cruel.
“Yup and then I tried to tell him he was good and guess what? He said, ‘if I’m so good Eddie, how come my parents haven't spent Christmas with me since I was seven?’ and what could I say to that?” Eddie asked, “how could I answer that properly without just punching a wall in anger?”
“Fuck,” Wayne muttered, running a hand over his face, yeah, he could see how that would set off his quick-tempered boy.
“And to make it worse? He’s never played in the snow or gone ice-skating or decorated a Christmas tree or had a proper Christmas dinner,” Eddie continued, “he said that his parents probably did those things before he started spending the holidays alone but he was too young to remember but I don't believe him, it sounds like they could just never be bothered.”
Wayne didn't know what to say, there wasn't really anything he could say as nothing would make this better.
“What do I do?” Eddie asked.
“You acknowledge that he’s had a shit life and shittier parents and you do your best to make sure that the rest of his life is good,” Wayne said, as though it could be that simple, for Eddie’s sake he wished for it to be.
“Aw, Wayne,” Eddie said with a grin, “you think me and Steve are gonna be around each other forever?”
“Well no one else would be able to put up with you so you best use all your wits and hold onto that boy,” Wayne said, taking a drink to hide his grin as Eddie squawked in offence.
“I’ll have you know, Steve is lucky to have me,” Eddie said with a haughty sniff.
“Don't you forget that either,” Wayne said seriously, as much as he liked Eddie’s boy, he wanted his nephew to know that he was the centre of Wayne’s fucking world - as stupid as that sounded, so he needed to know that he deserved to be treated as such, “what time is he off work?”
Eddie glanced at the clock on the mantel before humming to himself, “fifteen minutes ago, I think,” he said, screwing up his nose, “I’m sure he said that they were closing up early for the holidays today.”
“He’s still coming over?”
“As far as I’m aware,” Eddie said, “he’ll be dropping Robin off first though, there’s no way he’d let her walk in that.”
Whilst Steve hadn't ‘officially’ moved out of his parent's house and in with the Munsons yet, he was essentially living there, he only ever went to his parent’s place for more clothes or to make an appearance on the odd occasion they were actually in town. Wayne didn't know what the delay was in making it official but he wasn't going to complain, he couldn't deny that he liked having the boy in the house, so that wouldn't change when it was finally ‘official’.
“How long does it normally take him?” Wayne wondered as he noted the wind was already causing large drifts of snow to pile against the sides of some trailers. It really wasn't good weather to be driving in, snow chains or not.
“Hm,” Eddie cocked his head, “normally ‘bout twenty minutes but the weather will slow him.”
“Yeah,” Wayne murmured, “listen, I’m gonna go check on that red-headed kid of your boyfriend’s and if there’s no sign of him after that we can start worrying.”
“Sounds good,” Eddie said, his voice was calm but his knee was constantly bouncing and his shoulders were tense.
“He’ll be alright,” Wayne said, hoping that Eddie would believe him as easily as he had when he was a small boy - before the world had jaded him, “you’ll see.”
Eddie merely nodded, “there’s chicken broth in the fridge that Stevie made yesterday, made me promise to give what was leftover to Max, would you mind?”
“I got it,” Wayne said, making his way to the fridge.
It was nice to see how many ingredients and Tupperware boxes had begun to take over the once-barren refrigerator that had been sparsely loaded with takeout boxes and condiments. Steve really had taken one look in there and decided that the Munsons needed help. He was right of course and Wayne wasn't ashamed to admit that he was thrilled to come home from work to a cooked meal and occasionally a slice of homemade rhubarb pie.
“Tell Max that Steve said he’d be over later to help her with her history homework too,” Eddie called after him as Wayne tucked the carefully wrapped bowl under his arm and opened the door to brave the snowstorm outside.
---
“It’s colder than a banker’s heart on foreclosure day out there,” Wayne called out as he returned to the trailer after almost an hour of fiddling with the Mayfield’s dodgy boiler that the landlord was refusing to mend because ‘was it really that bad?’.
Wayne was surprised that Eddie wasn't responding but he quickly realised why when he turned around and saw his nephew standing there with what must have been three jackets, a scarf, two hats and multiple pairs of mismatched gloves on.
“Fuck,” Wayne muttered, looking over him.
“Steve isn't home yet,” was all Eddie said and Wayne noticed that he was holding his van keys in his overly gloved hand.
“Son…” Wayne trailed off, unable to bring the words into reality that they both knew were on his mind. That it was too dangerous, that his van wouldn't make it out of the trailer park, that he wouldn't be able to see the road, that there was no way he’d be any use to Steve going out there.
“I can't just sit here doing nothing, Wayne, I need to at least try.”
“Son, there’s nothing you can do,” Wayne said, “how do you think Steve’ll feel if he rocks up only to find out you’re missing because you decided to be a dumbass and drive out into a blizzard to try and find him?”
“He’ll understand,” Eddie said tightly.
“Will he?” Wayne asked, “because from what I know about your lad if he finds out you’ve driven out there to look for him, he’ll just blame himself.”
Wayne knew that Eddie was listening when he ripped the woolly hat off and tossed it to the side with a frustrated ‘fuck’. He knew where his nephew’s frustration and fear were coming from, Steve was over an hour late in getting home from work and the weather was growing worse by the minute. There was every chance the boy was stuck in the snow or had been involved in an accident.
“Listen, Son, let’s be smart about this,” Wayne said, “take off all those ridiculous jackets and go phone Robin, make sure Steve isn't just holed up there because of the weather.”
“That’s… pretty clever,” Eddie said, sounding surprised.
“No need to be so shocked,” Wayne said, shaking his head fondly, “now, come on, get your hustle on.”
Within minutes, probably a quarter of the time it had taken him to don everything, Eddie had stripped the multitude of coats and was back to standing in the kitchen in his fuzzy jumper and black, fluffy slippers and twirling the phone cord around his fingers while he waited as the phone rang.
“Robin! No, no, it’s Eddie, I was looking for him,” he said, frowning, “well how long ago was that? No, there’s no sign of him. Should we call someone? No, not his parents Robin, come on!”
Wayne could already tell from Eddie’s side of the conversation that there was no way Steve was still at Robin’s and he was beginning to grow uneasy, not that he was ever going to admit that to Eddie.
“You don't think he’d do that, do you?” Eddie asked, nervously chewing on the ends of his hair and looking through the window at the whiteout that was occurring, “alright, well, let me know if he comes back to yours.”
Wayne was ready and waiting the moment Eddie hung up the phone, “well?” he asked, even though it was obvious Steve wasn't there.
“He’s not with Robin,” Eddie said, twisting his hands nervously, “he dropped her off forty-five minutes ago, she said he was taking the roads slower but he should have been here well before now.”
Wayne nodded, he’d expected Steve to drive slower on account of the hazardous conditions but for him still to be missing, well, Wayne didn't like the image that was being formed.
“She thinks that if his car got stuck he would’ve tried to finish on foot,” Eddie said, “so depending on where he got stuck he’s either trying to get here or make his way back to hers.”
“Shit,” Wayne muttered, looking out at the snow that seemed to be impossibly worse than before, “alright, well, we’re not going to be able to make it far in either of our vehicles so we need another plan.”
“Walk?” Eddie suggested.
“That’s a suicide mission, Son, we can’t go out there on foot, we’ll hardly make it out of the trailer park,” Wayne said with a sigh.
Eddie grumbled to himself, kicking at the curled corner of the living room rug in frustration, something that Wayne would have scolded him for if not for the understandable pressure he was under, he figured a little leeway was allowed.
“WAYNE!” Eddie suddenly screamed as he pointed out the window furiously before bolting towards the door leaving Wayne - who was gripping his chest from the sudden shock that was still giving him palpitations.
He made his way over to the window, wiping away some of the condensation to peer out and try and find out what had made his nephew almost shit himself in shock. At first, he saw nothing and he was beginning to think Eddie was so desperate to find Steve that he had hallucinated his presence outside but after a few moments and another wipe of the condensation he picked out a shadow in the snow.
He couldn't tell who it was, but they were seemingly stumbling towards the trailer.
Wayne saw Eddie rushing over to the person who seemed to register his nephew before collapsing into the snow that was now deep enough to completely envelop his prone form.
“Aw, fuck,” Wayne muttered, speeding over to the door to swap his slippers for the thick boots he always wore in the winter.
The cold hit him like a punch as he burst outside, the snow immediately falling over the top of his boots as he waded through the path that Eddie had already created towards the unconscious person. He was torn between hoping it was Steve and his whereabouts could finally be accounted for and hoping it was someone else who was apparently in bad enough shape to be collapsing in the snow.
“Eds?” Wayne shouted, holding a hand before his face to try and protect his eyes from the harsh wind that was throwing snow in his eyes.
“Wayne! Hurry up, help me get him inside,” Eddie yelled from somewhere in front of him.
It took longer than Wayne was happy to admit but eventually he found Eddie crouched over an unconscious Steve whose lips were blue and his skin was paler than Wayne had ever seen on a living person.
“Steve? Stevie, can you open your eyes?” Eddie was asking, gently tapping Steve’s frozen cheek, Wayne could see snow or ice clinging to his eyelashes.
Fuck, this was bad, this was really, really fucking bad.
“Come on, let’s get him up out of the snow,” Wayne said, and together they struggled to throw one of Steve’s arms around each of their shoulders and they dragged him through the snow towards the trailer. If he hadn't known better he would have thought they were dragging a snowman in a coat.
“Is he gonna be alright?” Eddie asked, sounding like the terrified six-year-old who had been found on Wayne’s doorstep many moons ago.
“Of course, he’s gonna be alright,” Wayne said, forcing the words that felt like a lie out through gritted teeth, “we jus’ gotta warm him up, alright?”
He shrugged, bumping Steve back up from where he had slipped down slightly, he just flopped with the movement, like… like a dead body, Wayne’s mind supplied unhelpfully.
They clambered back into the trailer in a mess of limbs and snow, Wayne didn't like how thin Steve’s coat felt but what could he do about that now?
“Get him in front of the fire and get those wet clothes off him,” Wayne instructed as he went to Eddie’s room and began raking through the drawers for the warmest clothes he could find.
‘The fire’ wasn't a proper coal or log fire, it was one of those weird grate, gas-run ones that seemed to be in every trailer around, they always kept it running on low to medium throughout the winter to keep the chill off their home, but Wayne figured that this was as good a time as any to turn it up to the maximum.
When Wayne returned with a t-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, jumper and jogging bottoms, Eddie had laid Steve out on a blanket on the floor in front of the fire and was working on trying to get all of the wet clothes off him which looked to be proving rather difficult.
“Here,” Wayne said, pulling the kitchen scissors from the utensil pot and taking them over to Eddie.
“I can’t cut his clothes off,” Eddie said in protest.
“Better to have him pissed about some ruined fabric than dead,” Wayne said, biting back a wince at how blunt his words had come out.
Eddie didn't react to that, thankfully, but instead nodded and accepted the shears. Wayne went to grab a towel for Steve, both to help dry him off and protect his modesty while he was stripped down unconscious from the cold.
“Stevie, come on, wake up for me Pretty Boy,” Eddie said gently, removing the fabric with a tenderness that Wayne didn't think he had ever seen from his boy, “I know you're cold, I’m gonna get you all warmed up, hey?”
“I’ll make some soup,” Wayne said, knowing Steve wasn't in any state to eat but wanting to keep himself busy whilst feeling helpless.
“Thanks,” Eddie said, “he’s kinda moving, his eyes are fluttering, but he hasn't woken up yet.”
Yet. Eddie had no doubts in his mind apparently that Steve would regain full consciousness, that was nice, Wayne wished he could be as confident but the sheer listlessness of Steve lying in the snow flashed in his mind. It was terrifying to know that if Eddie hadn't miraculously spotted him through the practically opaque snow, Steve would have been lying out there unnoticed, probably until the snow melted… no one could survive that.
“You’re gonna be fuming later when you notice that I just towel-dried your hair,” Eddie was saying as he carefully rubbed Steve’s locks between the towel, taking care to remove as much moisture as he could, “I know we have all your fancy hair shit here, but I don't know how to use them, Stevie, so you’re gonna have to teach me at some point.”
Steve let out a weak groan.
“Hey, there you are,” Eddie said with forced ease before looking up at Wayne, “his breathing is really slow.”
“The fire and warm clothes aren’t enough,” Wayne said with a grimace, he’d been afraid of that.
“I think he needs the hospital,” Eddie said, “his lips are still blue and he’s so cold to touch, Wayne, he’s like an ice cube.”
“Son, look around, there’s no way we’re getting out of here to get him there and I doubt any ambulances are going to be able to make it through the snow without a damn tractor,” Wayne said.
Eddie had obviously known what Wayne was about to say if his bowed head and lack of argument were anything to go by, instead, he laid himself along Steve’s side, trying his best to let his body heat soak into Steve.
Wayne filled as many hot water bottles as he could find in the trailer and handed them to Eddie one by one as they were filled who surrounded Steve with them.
“There we are, Pretty Boy, all nice and cosy, now I just need you to be all cosy, alright?” Eddie murmured.
“Any shivering?” Wayne asked.
“None,” Eddie said, “is that good or bad?”
Wayne didn't want to admit that it was terrible, that Steve’s hypothermia had progressed so much that he was at risk of a cardiac arrhythmia or even death thanks to how low his core temperature must be. Sometimes his history as an army medic was a curse rather than a blessing, but the truth was, he’d treated more people with heatstroke than hypothermia. He was used to the injuries of hot countries and other than a baseline of knowledge, he felt lost as he stared at his nephew hugging his inanimate boyfriend as though the sheer desperation of his hug would be enough to warm him through.
“Wayne?” Eddie asked, prompting an answer to his question.
“It’s not a great thing, let’s keep warming him, alright, I’m going to grab our duvets and see if that helps keep the heat from you and the hot water bottles in.”
Wayne could hear Eddie whispering words of encouragement to Steve as he gathered the duvets, the gentle murmurings were intermingled with pleas for Steve to wake up, to not do this to him.
“Really, Steve, Darling, you can’t leave me, not yet,” Eddie said softly, “I need to make you peppermint hot chocolate with whipped cream and m&ms to make it look like a snowman, I need to take you ice-skating on the pond, we need to put up a Christmas tree and make cookies for Santa, come on, Baby, wake up, please.”
Wayne closed his eyes, fighting back a wave of emotion as he listened to the heartbreak pour from his boy. Eddie couldn't lose the other half of his soul and Wayne… well, he wasn't ready to lose a son.