[ I am listening, he wants to say. Just because I don’t agree doesn’t mean I’m not listening. Because it isn’t alright, is it? Steve isn’t the one who just died, Eddie is, and there’s nothing about that which isn’t strange or unnatural and just the thought of it makes him sick to his stomach.

But he is listening, clinging to every word because Steve is here and he’s real; he can tell by the way he doesn’t just crumble beneath Eddie’s too-tight grip, and that means Eddie is here and real as well. It’s just difficult to focus through the haze of anxiety that’s colored his life for the past week.

For just a moment, he closes his eyes, nods, and smiling weakly, finally lets his grip on Steve’s arm loosen just a bit. Cracking a joke will make him feel better and help to clear the tension, right? That’s the thing to do right now? ]

Weird people, huh? That’s nice, Steve. You’re talking to one of those so-called “weird people”. I died to save your ass, man. How about a little respect?

[ Yeah, that wasn’t the most helpful joke in the world. He picks up on what Steve is saying though. Everyone else got out alive, or close to alive, as far as Eddie knows. ]

Yeah? The, uh…the plan worked, then?

[ God, please say it worked. ]