#hellcheer 63 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ymaohoh · 9 months ago

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'Rule 63' - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

Superstar athlete Chris Cunningham is struggling with nightmares and visions and goes to freaky Ellie Munson for relief. Rule 63' - Gender Swap - Hellcheer AU Basically a gender swap version of 'Chrissy Lives' Characters are kind of OC but not really. I've tried to keep them as character-based as possible but there had to be minor tweaks to make it realistic in the 80's. POV switches between characters.

Ellie is 19. Chris is 18. Really enjoyed writing this one. Let me know what you think and if I should do another chapter. Also on Archive. Word count: 9,322 Rated: No ratings, some swearing.

Setting: Hawkins High School

Date: 1986, baby

Introducing:

Ellie Munson, lead guitarist in amateur rock band Corroded Coffin, repeating her senior year again because she has crap grades and a rebellious streak. Her interests? Dungeons and Dragons (she runs the Hellfire Club as D&M and rules with an iron fist), listening to heavy metal at full volume with the car windows rolled down, and reading (and getting high to) The Hobbit, Dune, and other fantasy books which let her drift away. She was the school pariah because she didn’t play by the same rules - ‘a freak’ - and people just didn’t like her very much. The other students (and most of Hawkins) hissed she was a ‘bad influence’ - a junkie slut, trailer trash, juvenile delinquent - who would no doubt end up just like her shitty mom. Oh they were just waiting for the day she stumbled and proved them right.

Ellie wasn’t so sure - she was mean and scary, yes, and she played up the freak role at school because it made certain dickheads keep their distance - but she knew she wanted more out of life. This year she was getting her diploma and getting the fuck out of Hawkins and away from these small-minded hicks. They could literally kiss her ass.

Introducing:

Chris Cunningam, captain of the basketball team and hot-shot athlete with college scholarships coming out of his ears. His interests? Sports, tutoring (his grades were outstanding), and being a perfect all-round good guy who everybody simply fawned over. Guys were lining up to be his buddy and girls wanted to date him. You’d think he’d be this obnoxious douchebag but Chris stood out from his peers - he was kind, patient, always looking out for the little guy. Everyone knew Chris had the perfect future lined up for the taking (a stable high-earning job within his dad’s law firm, a big house with the white picket fence, a beautiful wife and children).

Chris wasn’t so sure - people didn’t want to see the real him - the guy who hated parties and crowds, who couldn’t do anything without his dad breathing down his fucking neck, who was so petrified of letting people down and not being perfect that it gave him panic attacks. Nobody asked him what he wanted to do after school and sometimes (just sometimes) he would let himself imagine a future away from Hawkins and all the stress.

Enter stage left:

Ellie was known to be the school dealer. She even had a system; people would drop a note in her locker with a time and place and she would meet them, easy peasy. Her rules? Cash only, not on a night when she had Hellfire, and absolutely no questions. She didn’t give a shit about why they wanted the weed or who they wanted to impress, she just wanted to get in and out with zero complications. Selling weed was not something she wanted to do forever but it meant she could save up for if - no, when - she graduated.

She couldn’t exactly get a normal job packing groceries because the whole town thought she was a good-for-nothing junkie who would steal from the tills rather than do an honest day’s labour, and she was too young to work in the factory with her aunt.

Some of the money went towards helping her aunt with the bills. Wendy took her in when she was still a kid and her parents split in the middle of the night without even a goodbye or see you later. Wendy was a confirmed spinster and worked a lot so Ellie often had the trailer to herself, but they made it work. She was nice, sturdy, calm; a good balance to Ellie’s puzzling inner chaos.

(she tried explaining to Mr Kelley about her crazy brain and how sometimes it wouldn’t let her focus but he just told her to lay off the pot, which to be fair wasn’t terrible advice overall).

So when Ellie arrived at school (late as usual) and found a neatly folded note in her locker she didn’t really give it much thought until she saw the initials at the bottom - C.C.

No fucking way…

But it had to be him because who else would write please and thank you in a drug note then the resident goody-two-shoes Chris Cunningham?

She only had one class with Chris - English (her worst and seemingly his best) - and he was different from the other douchebag jocks. He never once picked on her or called her a freak and even told the cheerleader Patty to lay off when she tried stealing her notes. He’d smiled and given her a little nod as to say ‘it’s cool’ and for a second he made her believe it. That was the thing about Chris: he was nice, he was kind, and he never told a lie.

(it was no wonder she struggled in that class, but she would rather die than tell judgy ol’ Mr O'Donnell about it).

Chris had a killer smile too - though his front tooth was slightly crooked (which somehow made it even better?) - and the bluest eyes she ever saw. He was also ripped. He must work out a lot because his arms looked like they could easily toss you over his strong shoulder or rip a phonebook in half. Not that she’d noticed, obviously, but the scribbles in the bathroom stalls went on and on about his muscles, his shoe size, his (perfect) butt. To her absolutely shame (and she would never ever admit it even under torture) she once imagined in class how nice it might be to be held by those arms. Ugh.

Sure she was an outcast and liked traditionally unfeminine pursuits, but she was still a girl. She had hormones and feelings and all the crazy stuff that made teenage years super fun.

(and yeah Chris had once cheered for her during a stupid talent contest in middle school but that was years ago and he was only being nice).

It would never happen, this wasn’t The Breakfast Club (Wendy loved these kinds of films - she would drag Ellie to the video rental place every weekend for a new one. Ellie liked Robin who worked there (he was pretty outlandish too) but former ‘It Girl’ Stacey was intimidating as fuck. She had no idea how the two were friends).

Chris was a solid 9 whereas she was a 3 on a good day if she stopped doing weird shit to her hair. He might be Emilio Estevez but she was no Ally Sheedy.

Even if she wanted to suddenly change her clothes and slap on some make up (seriously, what was that ending?), those big strong arms were busy hugging his actual girlfriend Jackie Carver (and carrying her books, opening doors for her, probably opening goddamn jars too). Jackie Carver was head cheerleader and the darling of the school. She was the perfect match for Chris in every conceivable way; church going, wholesome, sickeningly rich. Apart from the occasional teasing, the jocks tended to leave Ellie alone for the most part but the cheerleaders were another matter entirely. They loathed her - and to be fair, she hated them right back. Jackie was the ringleader and Ellie simply loved getting a rise out of her.

(this wasn’t hard to do; she only had to mention how she was joining a Satan-worshipping cult and little Miss Carver would hiss like an alley cat).

So yeah, in conclusion Chris was a good guy and the last person she would ever expect to ask for drugs. It almost made her want to break rule number three.

His note asked to meet at the abandoned picnic bench during lunch period which meant she had to wolf down her sandwich and get a move on. She told her little sheepies with a wink she had private business to attend to and left before they could give her any sass (Dusty was seriously showing too much attitude for her own good). Her bandmates only nodded, well used to her side-hustle.

As she walked through the trees she had a fleeting thought that this could be a prank or a set up. Were the cheerleaders waiting to jump her and steal her stash or tip another slushie down the front of her shirt? (that was a seriously shit day). Would Queen Bee Jackie be waiting instead of her prized King?

Ellie was too scrawny to be a fighter, but her dad had done at least one useful thing in teaching her how to throw a punch (when he still gave a shit) and she was scrappy. She could also read people and situations well. She kinda’ had to. As a girl dealer in 80’s Indiana it was crucial she could make speedy decisions on whether best to fight or fly.

She decided to run at the first sight of a green and orange pom pom.

And maybe a tiny part of her was quite interested to meet Cunningham alone in the woods.

Chris was going insane…or maybe not insane exactly, but he was definitely on the edge of some kind of nervous breakdown. His head was pounding and he was so damn tired from all the restless nights. He hadn’t felt this bad since freshman year when he was trying to beef up enough to make the team (months of eating nothing but carbs and protein shakes/constant calorie counting/early morning runs that made him want to puke his guts out).

He needed some kind of relief.

Painkillers did nothing and he wouldn’t go near his mom’s valium in case she noticed (though the odds of that were…yeah). He saw Mr Kelley at their weekly therapy sessions but it would sound so dumb if he started bringing up the strange ticking noises and dreams that seemed more like hallucinations. It was too dangerous anyway; he'd probably tell his coach who would then blab to his parents. Then he’d really get it in the neck. His parents hated anything out of the ordinary. He could already hear his dad calling him a punk, a loser, and an embarrassment.

“Chrissss,” he’d say, dragging it out like he always did when he was mad. “I’ve worked hard to give you and your sister everything. Now you want to wreck it all by crying about feelings like some girl? Get a grip, son. A real man knows who he is and what he wants out of life. Don’t let me down.”

In the end it was a teammate who suggested Ellie Munson. He told him about the note system too. He warned Chris that Ellie was creepy and to be careful, even if she did sell decent pot. She wasn’t the kind of girl you wanted to know.

He was anxious as hell as he walked to the meeting spot, and more so when he got there and saw…no one.

Damn. Had she not seen the note? Or maybe she just didn’t want to sell to him? He didn’t really know Ellie personally but being a high-school athlete came hand in hand with a certain…reputation. Perhaps she thought he was just another cliche dumb jock looking to make trouble?

(he knew the guys gave her a hard time and tried to intervene when he saw it. He hated bullies - they reminded him of his crappy dad - but yeah, he could probably do more if he was honest with himself. It was hard when Ellie basically gave the finger to anyone who even approached her though).

With a sigh, he decided to head back. This was all probably a bad idea anyway; he’d never even touched a joint before and if his parents or coach or Jackie found out they’d seriously kill him. His perfectly curated image would be in shatters.

And Jackie could be really cold when she wanted to be. It always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells.

But then Chris heard that creepy ticking noise again and he flinched back.

Then a snap.

He whirled around and came face to face with Ellie Munson, who held her hands up. “Woah…hey…sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

Chris nodded but he kept back. The ticking had stopped but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t start back up again. God, he really was going insane. He’d end up like Jack Nicholson in that creepy film with the white straight jackets at this rate.

Ellie sat down at the table and placed a black lunchbox next to her. “There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.”

Chris looked at her properly. Ellie Munson was known about school to be wild and weird and most people avoided her. She looked weird in her black ripped jeans, leather jacket, and faded denim vest covered with band patches and pins. Even her leather boots were scuffed and way too big to belong to her. Her hair was wild too; an explosion of messy brown curls that fell to her waist with a knotted bandana (failing) to keep it away from her face. She didn’t wear makeup like Jackie but he noticed three heavy silver rings on her fingers (again, way too big for her). Her ears were heavily pierced and…yeah…one even had a safety pin through it.

He knew she liked to kick up a fuss in the cafeteria and make loud bizarre speeches about inequality and feminist rights, she never ever attended class (when she did she preferred to sleep in the back row), and could swear like a biker. She also protected a flock of freshmen like a mother hen. So yeah weird but she wore it well. She wore it in a way that proclaimed proudly she didn’t give a shit what other people thought about her, which was…actually pretty cool.

Ellie’s boldness and shere cheek should by all rights freak him out, but it didn’t. Instead he felt a strange twist of jealousy in his chest; he’d love to borrow that nerve and tell the people around him to leave him the hell alone.

So when she told him they were safe, he found himself believing her (even though she was like half his height and he definitely bench pressed heavier weights than her). Strange.

“So, how does this work exactly?” he asked, sitting down too.

“Oh, just like any other old sale, except, uh, cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts. I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”

Another snap. He shuddered and rubbed his temples.

“Hey, uh, we don't need to do this. Just give me the word and I'll walk away. Okay?”

She was looking at him with something like real concern flashing in her brown eyes. He felt oddly touched. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at him like that.

“It's not that. I don't want you to go. It's just…” he took a deep breath to steady himself. “Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?”

He half expected her to leg it but to his surprise Ellie just grinned. Up close, he noticed a dimple in her left cheek which was pretty cute.

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis. I feel like I'm losing my mind right now doing a drսg deal with Chris Cunningham, the King of Hawkins High.”

Chris could feel his cheeks burning - he hated being called that. That was all Jackie’s doing. She had big plans that they were going to be crowned at prom and then probably marry right out of school and…ugh. He was about to say so when Ellie went on…

“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... hung out.”

“I'm sorry. I…”

“That's okay.”

Before he could say another word, Ellie launched herself back off the table and he sprang to his feet to…help? Catch her? Check she was ok? But Ellie was grinning again and he found it so infectious that he smiled right back.

“I wouldn't remember me either, Chris. Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?” she laughed. There were brown and gold leaves in her hair but instead of fixing it (like Jackie might’ve) she shook it out and seemed totally unfazed. “You don't remember me?”

“I’m sorry!” Chris laughed.

“Middle school, talent show? You were doing the basketball thing. You know, the... dribbling… thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually. And I... I was with my band.”

Then it hit him. “Corroded Coffin! Yes, of course. With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You're a freak.”

Ellie was beaming and Chris sat back down on the edge of the table to watch her. If anyone else called him a freak he might’ve been offended but Ellie said it like it was a badge of honour. Her dimple was back.

A vague memory of a tiny girl with patched dungarees holding a guitar suddenly came back to him. She’d been waiting to go out on stage with her friends, terrified and clearly falling to bits with nerves. Chris had smiled and wished her luck, and afterwards whooped and clapped so hard he thought his hands might fall off. His dad had ripped him to shreds for his own performance - but her little crooked smile and twinkling eyes stayed with him. “No, you just... You looked so... Different?”

“Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was shorter and I had braces, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”

She tugged at the neck of her shirt (with Hellfire written across the front) and he spotted a line of black ink just underneath her collarbone. He knew some girls got tattoos - not any of the girls he knew, of course - and Ellie implied she had more than one. He felt himself blush again when he realised he wanted to see more. Which would obviously be really inappropriate and creepy.

He was very aware of the fact they were all alone and he was significantly bigger than her, even if Ellie didn’t seem to notice. He dragged his gaze back to the safety of her face.

Thankfully his voice didn’t betray any of what he was feeling. “You played guitar, right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We... We actually get a crowd of about five drunks. It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

He was surprised she was allowed to go to The Hideout at all with drunk guys - let alone to play in a band. Maybe her boyfriend went along to keep her safe? Chris didn’t even know her that well and he wanted to. “You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like.”

“Mean and scary?”

That’s what Jackie or his friends would say. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too.”

He actually snorted at that. “Me?”

Ellie laughed and when she laughed she did it properly - lips wide, eyes bright, her head tossed back. It was so incredibly animated and warm and real that it made Chris want to huddle closer to her flame. She perched on the seat beside him and opened up the lunchbox.

“Terrifying. Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”

Oh right. Drugs. He’d almost forgotten. He’d enjoyed speaking to her so much (and watching her - she was more interesting to look at than anyone else he knew) that for a brief wonderful moment the ticking and spiders and nightmares vanished.

But they came back back now and he felt himself physically recoil.

“Do you have anything maybe stronger?”

He didn’t think anything shocked Ellie Munson, but that sure did.

Right. So perfect wholesome Chris Cunningham was sitting in her crappy van and they were driving back to her trailer.

He said he wanted something harder than weed and Ellie said yes but obviously didn’t keep that kind of thing at school. She offered to meet him the following day (same time, same place, even though it was a Saturday) but Chris had looked so serious when he asked if he could please possibly get it tonight after the game and her club meeting. She’d been too taken back by the intensity in his eyes to say anything other than yes, honestly. So they met later that evening by her van and he actually opened the door for her. Ellie couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that kind of thing for her before.

(she’d had a short-lived daliance with a boy from her art class and he’d brought her roses and candy, but the next day he was sucking face with a girl from their photography class who put out, so it wasn’t really what you’d call meaningful).

She thanked him and hopped up into the driver’s seat (damn it, she was too short for anything elegant) and Chris slid in beside her. He was polite enough not to mention the many takeout coffee cups, the spare and broken tapes cluttering the floor, or the very used mattress in the back (used for when she needed to transport band equipment). He said his own car was in the shop right now and he’d caught a lift this morning.

“Seriously, I’m not trying to make a move or anything…I just need something to help, you know?”

It hadn’t even crossed her simple puny mind that Chris might have any ulterior motive to coming back to her trailer. Maybe some guys might but that didn’t seem to be his style.

“Am I your piece of rough, Cunningham? Not worried one of your team mates might see you slumming it with me?” Ellie said, only part joking.

Chris blushed and rolled his eyes. “You make me sound like a total prude. Aren’t you worried about your badass image being tanked by me?”

She liked it when he blushed. Luckily with his pale skin and colouring, he had no chance at masking it.

“Glad you brought it up actually, can you duck down ‘til we get out the gates? One look at that letterman jacket and my scary reputation is kaput,” she smirked. She turned on the radio and heavy metal music blasted out from the speakers. She thought he might ask to turn it down and was pleasantly surprised when he said he didn’t mind it. “Sorry, I don’t have any Cyndi Lauper or Billy Joel…”

“Get lost,” he laughed. “Do not start quoting Uptown Girl (Boy) at me, Munson.”

It was almost too easy to make Chris laugh. She’d enjoyed messing with him back in the woods and wondered what other buttons she could press. What got under his skin?

There must be something, obviously, if he was asking her for ketamine.

You’ve gotta’ cool it, she told herself. Yeah he’s super cute and remembered the band but you weren’t really joking…he would absolutely be slumming it with you. He’s not even the same species AND he has a girlfriend who looks like she could be a runner up for Miss America.

Inwardly sighing at her lot in life, she bravely asked, “So how was the game? Did you - uh - throw some balls into laundry baskets?”

Chris looked sideways at her, obviously surprised that she cared so little for something the entire school (including the faculty) seemed crazy about, but then started chuckling again. “Yeah, we…we won actually. It was a championship game.”

“Oh…good. Glad it went well for you.” Ellie wound down the window and lit a cigarette as they neared a stop sign. She offered him one and he took it after only a split-second hesitation.

“Thanks. We practised really hard and I’m proud of how well we all came together. It’s one of the things I like most about playing sports, you know? The team work,” he added. “Ever been to a rally?”

She’d never thought about sports like that before, it always just seemed like one big popularity contest. His enthusiasm kind of humbled her a bit. “Uh - no, not high on my ‘to do’ list, I’m afraid. I’d be too worried about one of the cheerleaders drop-kicking me honestly.”

“Oh really? Are they…what? They mean to you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cunningham?”

He didn’t look like he was bullshitting her. He looked genuinely confused…“Sorry, I don’t really know…”

She thought about all the times the cheerleaders stole her clothes (and dumped them in the toilets) after gym class, how they tried to trip her up in the halls, how they filled her locker with shaving foam so all her notes were useless, how they stuck gum in her hair and Wendy had no choice but to cut it out leaving her with a tuft that stuck out for ages.

Yeah, she could see how Miss Carver would want to keep that all hush hush from her lovely boyfriend.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not your problem so you don’t need to apologise, but yeah they make my life pretty miserable on a daily basis. They pick on the freshmen too and that really gets under my skin,” she added. “Your buddies on the team can be real jerks too. It’s why I stopped dealing at those jock parties. Those meatheads can call you a freak and ignore you at school, but after a couple of beers they get pretty shitty if you catch my drift.”

“They’ve messed with you?”

“Tried to. I just avoid it all now.”

Chris seemed honestly shocked at that and his hand twitched like he wanted to…what? Comfort her? She felt a bit bad - he obviously had no idea about what kind of people he chose to hang around. “That’s seriously not on. Not to you or the kids,” he muttered. “Does…Jackie…?”

Ellie actually snorted. “No way, Chris. She’s your girlfriend and there’s no way I’m airing out her dirty laundry. These lips will remain sealed.”

“But…I could try talking to her?”

Maybe Chris speaking to Jackie on her behalf might help for a week or two (Jackie would be sure to cry a little and pout and say no honey, she’s really stupid, she must be mistaken) but then Jackie would be livid. She’d think she was deliberately trying to split them up or something.

The little chaos demon in her brain thought fuck it, ask him anyway.

“Nah, it would only make it worse. Just…drop it, okay? Thanks but I can look after myself for a few more months. After that? I’m getting out of this craphole and I’ll never see those shitheads again.”

She could tell he didn’t want to drop it but also didn’t want to push her either. She appreciated that - she hated it when people tried shoving in and telling her what to do. Was it the same for Chris?

So instead Chris sighed and ran a hand through his short hair as he finished up his cigarette. She glanced at his blond hair - it had hints of red if you looked closely, so it was more of a strawberry blonde. It was buzzed short at the back and sides, but the longer hair on top looked thick and soft. He was still wearing his game clothes and they did little to hide the thick muscular expanse of his chest and arms. As Dio played on the radio, she wondered what Chris might look like in rockstar jeans and a leather jacket like the guys at The Hideout wore.

Probably just as great as he did in his usual preppy acid-wash jeans and sneakers.

She tried to imagine herself in the kind of clothes Jackie typically wore (very Molly Ringwald) with her hair brushed and professionally styled, bright eyeshadow smudged around her eyes, eating fucking sushi and cheerleading. Shit, it would be like watching a toad kiss a prince but without the Disney ending. It just wasn’t her.

Ellie kept her eyes forward on the road like a very very good driver.

Chris nobley changed the subject. “So what’s this Hellfire about? It’s not actually a satanic cult, right?”

Ellie huffed out a laugh. “I wish. It’s just a club where we play Dungeons and Dragons. It’s like a board game but we use our imaginations. The others built their own characters but I’m Dungeon Master - D&M - so I kind of plan it all out. There’s about seven of us right now, and we just finished a pretty sick campaign called the Curse of Vecna…” she trailed off. “Whoops, sorry. I can kind of get carried away with this stuff.”

“No way, it sounds interesting!” She glanced at him to make sure (again) he wasn’t making fun of her, but yeah, he did look interested. “I’ve heard about it - it’s got elves and goblins and stuff, right? Like Tolkien?”

“Holy crap. You’ve read Tolkien? Don’t tease me now - the Chris Cunningham has a secret nerdy side?”

Chris grinned. “My uncle lent me the books when I was still a kid. Totally loved them. I always wanted to be like Aragorn with a sword and armour…well, right up until my dad saw and tossed them out in the trash. Didn’t line up with his grand plan for me.”

“Plan?”

“Yeah…my parents are pretty strict. They - uh - have my whole life planned out for me, you know?”

Ellie didn’t know. Her parents didn’t even have plans for their own lives, let alone a kid they never wanted. She knew she wanted to leave Hawkins but after that? Life was fuzzy.

“Well...if you ever want to sit in on a game and watch, I can probably convince the girls you aren’t a spy. You’d be more than welcome. It’s usually on the night you have practice though.”

“Well… maybe one day I can flake? I’d like to watch you. Play, I mean. I’d like to watch you play,” he coughed. “It’s really cool how you look after those freshmen - they seem to really look up to you - makes me think you might be a softie underneath, Ellie.”

Ellie fucking cackled. “No no no. That’s too much now. First you want to buy drugs, then you offer to ditch sports to watch my nerdy game, and now telling me I’m a softie when you’re basically a walking teddy bear? Are you even a jock? I thought all you meatheads lived and breathed school spirit, right? My dumb perception of high school is being massacred.”

But actually there did seem to be a hell of a lot more to Chris then she could’ve ever guessed. Hidden layers, and all that.

“Maybe I’m more than a cliche. Right, Munson?”

And he gave her such a deliberate look that she sniggered and shook her head. Point very well made. She noticed a faint scattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks that really suited him.

“Well… you got me there.”

She turned off the main road towards Forest Hills and now Metallica blasted out of the speakers. They were quiet for a little bit but it wasn’t awkward.

“Seriously, thank you for this,” Chris suddenly said. “I feel…more normal…more awake…than I have for weeks.”

Ellie smiled, and this time it was friendly and yeah soft. Damn it.

“This is such a weird fucking day.”

Ellie pulled up outside her trailer and Chris slid out somewhat nervously. He’d never been to Forest Hills trailer park before and wasn’t sure what to expect. His parents and Jackie made it out to be some cesspit of evil - “a place filled with drunks, degenerates, single parents” - but all he saw was the soft glow of lights as families ate their dinners and settled down for the evening. Little Ellie Munson switched off the ignition, shouldered her backpack (heavy with D&D journals), and waved for him to follow as she found her door key. She told him this was her castle and he found himself smiling, once again at ease.

(he almost offered to carry her bag but her lunchtime rants indicated she might see this as patronising. He’d felt like a total idiot earlier when he held the door open and she’d carefully arched an eyebrow.)

Jackie always expected these things of him and got royally pissed if he forgot. It would be nice to offer for once without it being demanded.

Ellie told him her aunt Wendy was working a night shift so they’d have some privacy.

He blushed, eyeing the neighbouring trailer quickly to see if anyone was spying through the curtains (his mom would be). “What about your folks?” he found himself asking, following her inside.

“Oh they split ages ago. Pops found himself a new shiny family, and I think mom’s still in jail? She could be dead in a ditch somewhere, for all I know. They don’t exactly keep in touch,” she said, shrugging. “Want something to drink? Beer, coffee, water?”

She spoke like none of it mattered but her shrug was a little too casual.

“Uh…water would be great.”

Inside the trailer wasn’t what he’d expected at all. It was small, sure, but clean and neat. It was also really homely looking. Plenty of bright pictures on the walls, dollar store knick knacks decorating the sides, squashy cushions on the couch. Her aunt must really like teapots because there was a whole wall dedicated to her collection. He compared it to his own sterile home which looked more like a showroom.

Ellie dropped her bag on the couch and toed off her big boots in the middle of the room. Chris did the same only he lined his sneakers up neatly by the door (a habit). She passed him a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You never worry about being home alone so much? Is it…safe?”

“Yeah, it’s alright here and I can always run over to Mr Mayfield’s if there’s an emergency. He’s over in the trailer opposite,” she added, fiddling with the radio so music started playing. “Besides, when I’m on my lonesome I can play whatever music I want. Helps me relax, you know? And concentrate.”

“Seriously? That blows my brain. I need, like, total silence to read or study. I’d love some time on my own but my schedule’s real tight. There’s always something to do, or someone wanting something.” He caught her looking at him. “Yeah I know, poor little rich boy. I sound like an asshole.”

“Everyone’s got issues,” she shrugged. She gestured for him to take a seat and tucked some of her wild hair back behind her ear. He wondered if it felt as springy as it looked. “Make yourself at home, okay? I’ll go get the Special K.”

She went back to what was presumably her bedroom and Chris took a sip of the water. The music coming out of the radio wasn’t Ellie’s usual madness, maybe it was a station her aunt liked?

Tick.

Christ, really? His head had been blissfully quiet ever since meeting with Ellie. Her noise and bustle, her liveliness, had been like a balm to his nerves.

He found himself bouncing his leg. He tried to take a deep breath.

Tick.

“How long will it take to work?” he called, trying to distract himself.

“Depends on if you…snort it or not. If you snort it…then yeah, it’ll work pretty quick,” she said when she came back. She was biting her bottom lip and holding a bag of something that looked like powder. “Look, I’m going to break one of my infamous rules right now, but I have to ask…have you ever done anything like this before? Kind of worried you’re going to spiral and get into some serious trouble. You can do it here if you want? Then at least I’ll be around to keep an eye out. My aunt won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

Again it kind of sounded like Ellie actually cared (or at least she didn’t want him to die in a K-Hole). Her offer relieved some of the tension in his shoulders and he nodded gratefully.

“She won’t mind you having a boy here?”

Ellie actually laughed out loud at that and even snorted. His mouth twitched into a grin. She joined him on the couch - though left a deliberate space in between.

She’d shrugged off her jacket by now and wore only the black and white Hellfire shirt and jeans. He could see another tattoo winding along her elbow that looked like bats. He wondered if she did them herself or went to the one parlour in town (run by an ex-biker who looked gruff and shady). Didn’t her aunt mind?

But then Ellie was nineteen, a year older than him. She was legally allowed to lift her shirt and have whoever she wanted ink her skin.

“She’d never believe me,” Ellie chuckled, dragging his thoughts back into the room. “I don’t have guys ‘round here ever.”

“No way…really?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “No boyfriend or anything?”

He pictured some tall shaggy haired guy with biker boots and tattoos. He’d have to be in a band (maybe they practised together?) and wear the same style of silver jewellery she did (now he thought about it - those big rings probably were his). He’d smoke pot and read Dune and tell people loudly to fuck off if they bothered him. A guy who could go to The Hideout every week and watch her play, and cheer and hangbang like her own weird cheerleader. The kind of guy, in short, that Chris definitely was not.

He suddenly thought about himself standing beside Ellie with his arm tight around her shoulders. She was so small that he could easily tuck her against his side, and then he would run his fingers through that wild mane of hair. Jackie rarely smiled when they were together (or at all unless there was an audience) but he could easily imagine kissing Ellie’s grin.

Not that she would ever let him. She seemed to like him okay, but he would never be the guy in biker boots. She probably had posters pinned up in her bedroom of rockstars and ‘bad boy’ movie stars. Girls like her went for the Judd Nelson’s - not the Emilio Estevez’.

“Boyfriend? Me? Yeah right, Cunningham. I’m the last girl at school any guy would willingly hang out with, except maybe as a bet.”

“That’s crazy.” The words left his mouth before he realised it and he blushed, but didn’t want to take them back either. “I mean…yeah, you’re a little different, but you’re cute as hell. Your hair is incredible and that smile? Hell, it’s beautiful.”

Her eyes widened and he noticed how warm and brown they were. She was blushing too and it somehow suited her. He felt a little twitch of - what, pride? - that he could make Ellie react like that.

(this was the girl who flipped off (judgy) Mr O'Donnell when he tried making her read her essay out loud, tied her own bra to the flagpole during morning assembly, who got cool tattoos from scary bikers, and stood on lunchroom tables to declare loudly liberal feminism was the only way to go and Reagan could suck it.)

“You’re crazy. I’m the freak, remember? I know people don’t like me, they don’t ever pick me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

She was so brutally honest that it nearly knocked the air from his lungs, but then honesty seemed to be what you got with Ellie Munson. She might keep some things close to her chest, but there was no bullshit, no lying, no flattery. It was so fucking refreshing.

“I don’t think you’re a freak, Ellie, but even if you were…that wouldn’t be so bad, right? You make it look good.”

She tucked a little smile into her shoulder. “Thanks, Cunningham…you’re one of the nice ones.”

“It’s Chris, and you’re welcome.”

Another song came on the radio - some kind of old country song that reinforced this was definitely something her aunt listened to. It reminded him of the stuff his grandad used to put on.

“And you’re in a band, right? That’s awesome.”

“Don’t tell me you're a secret fan of Joan Jett,” she laughed, somewhat shakily. “Jess from the band keeps suggesting we buzz our hair.”

“Debbie Harry actually. Had a poster up on my wall before my mom ripped it down and called me a pervert.”

“That is perverted behaviour,” Ellie joked. “Glad she did. Rock music is a gateway to drugs and sex and all kinds of debauchery. Look what happened to me. Can’t have you succumbing to the dark side now.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty scary. I take back all my earlier words. You keep all that Sith crap away from me. I’m all Jedi.”

He saw her silently mouth the word ‘Jedi’.

“...after Aragorn I kind of loved playing as Luke Skywalker in the backyard with a rolled up newspaper as my lightsaber,” he winced. “Please keep that tidbit extremely super secret, Munson, and yes, I was a kid.”

He never spoke to Jackie like this, but with Ellie it was too effortlessly easy to slip into this playful persona. She was so honest that it kind of dragged it out of him too.

“God, think I’m in love,” Ellie said after a few seconds and threw her head back against the couch cushion. She placed a hand above her heart dramatically. “My whole life has led to this pivotal moment.”

Tick.

Chris couldn’t help but flinch again when he heard the ticking noise and this time Ellie stared at him, sitting up.

“Okay…so I’m definitely breaking rule three again…what’s going on with you, Chris? Why do you need drugs this bad? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Honestly?” Ellie nodded. “I think I’m going crazy. Been having these nightmares and seeing stuff for weeks now and I’m losing it. It started as just weird noises and ticking and nightmares, then I saw spiders crawling over Mr Kelley’s face in his office. I freaked out, Ellie. I ran away because I thought I’d be safer with people around, you know? But then that happened…and I still keep seeing them. Doesn’t matter if I’m alone or in the middle of class or sitting right here with you. I keep hearing the ticking noise - it’s like it's chasing me.”

Chris sat forwards and ran his hands through his hair, willing himself to get a grip.

“And the nightmares?” Ellie asked quietly. “What happens in those?”

“It’s usually my parents. Mom and dad. Mom will be strung out on Valium in bed with her mouth stitched up, or laying in a puddle of her own sick by the sink. Sometimes it’s my little sister lying there instead. It happens every time and I can’t do anything to help her. My dad…he fucking stalks me like a ghoul. He used to treat me bad, Ellie, punishing me with food when he thought I was looking too thin or too fat. He used to smack me about until I got taller than him, so then he started picking on me…which goddamn hurt more. My dad - the ghoul in the nightmares - is always telling me I’m useless, I’m an embarrassment, saying I’m letting everyone down. It’s like…all the stuff I’m already feeling, you know? But having it thrown in my face every night…it’s exhausting.”

His words came out in a rush. Ellie had drawn closer and placed a small tentative hand on his knee. Instead of feeling embarrassed by the action - or pitied - it made him feel safe and seen.

“How can you possibly let anyone down? You’re, like, the most perfect guy ever,” she murmured. “Can’t you talk to anyone about this? You know, Jackie or a friend?”

“They aren’t interested in crazy, Ellie. If something doesn’t fit right in their perfect little world then they don’t wanna know. Trust me. Jackie doesn’t do…feelings...unless they’re her own. I can’t talk to her about any of this real stuff. And my friends? They’d just tell me to man up, buy some weed, and get over it before the next big game.”

Ellie looked like she wanted to say some very choice words but was trying hard to put a leash on it.

“What about a teacher or your coach? Mr Kelley? I know I’m the last person to willingly talk to authority figures and as a rule they all suck, but this sounds serious, it’s really hurting you. And your parents…they…well sorry, but they sound like total assholes. Especially your dad.”

Chris found himself laughing at that. His dad was one of those untouchable pricks who used money and bullying to gain respect and unfortunately it worked every time. No one ever challenged him or called him an asshole like that. “He is an asshole.” God, even saying it was awesome, even if a little scary.

“You could…” Ellie was biting her lip again. “I don’t know…leave? You’re eighteen, right? Do you have any family you could stay with?”

“If I left I’d be saying goodbye to scholarships, college, there’s no way I’d graduate. My father would do his best to wreck my whole life if I don’t fall in line,” he responded bitterly. “And besides…I can’t leave my sister alone with them. As long as he’s using me as his punching bag, he can’t turn his attention to her. Can you imagine the kind of crap they’d say to her?”

Chris sighed. He placed his hand on top of Ellie’s on his knee and the coolness of her fingers (and rings) helped pull him back down to the world.

“I’m sorry to just lay this on you, Ellie. Seriously. You’ve been amazing helping me out tonight, and I’m just messing everything up like usual. You don’t need to hear about all this crazy shit and my nightmares. You’re a good listener, you know that?”

“It’s been said,” she smiled weakly.

“Do you think I'm losing it?”

Anyone else might’ve said, yeah you sound crazy Chris, but Ellie simply shrugged. She squeezed his hand. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re going through it right now and bottling it up, but you aren’t insane. You’ve got a right to feel your feelings. And I…I don’t mind listening. If it helps. You’ve made my night a little less lonely.”

Chris looked over at her and felt like he could drown in the warmth and kindness in her eyes. It wasn’t something he ever expected to find there, but he found himself drinking it in. Ellie too seemed to be searching for something in his expression, her eyes flickering over his eyes, his nose, his mouth.

It would be all too easy to tug her hand and close the distance. To nestle his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the strawberry shampoo she used.

But Ellie suddenly stood up and she clapped her hands. “Okay, you know what? No Ket. That’s now removed from the table. I’m going to roll us a joint using the good stuff I save for myself - and we’re going to get high and talk about it all, okay? Really lay it on me, Chriss, no bullshit or pretending. Then I’ll make some grilled cheese sandwiches and we’ll feast and come up with a plan of defence, right?”

Chris looked surprised but as she spoke a grin settled back across his lips. He really did have one killer smile.

“You’re on, weird girl.”

Before she went back to her room for the weed, she found herself hesitating for a moment. She tapped her fingers against the doorway. “Sorry for calling you a meathead earlier and being a dick about the game. You said about it meaning more to you than just scoring goals - and how you enjoy the feeling of working together to achieve something. Way you describe it, it kind of reminded me of Hellfire a little bit and why I like it so much. Guess we both like being part of something…”

See? Genuine nice comment. Chris seemed to think so because he flushed bright pink. Obviously her sneaky brain had to ruin it by adding, “...we’re big damn losers, am I right?”

She hurried back to her bedroom and stashed the ket securely beneath her bed. Instead she scooped out a tin from the desk drawer where she kept the high quality stuff she bought directly from Reefer Rita. There’d be enough here for maybe three joints and she was betting Chris would only need one to feel buzzed (even though he was big, it was obviously still his first time - she’d have to walk him through it so he didn’t hack his lungs out).

She glanced at her mirror on the way out and adjusted her shirt. She thought about dragging a brush through her hair but weirdly Chris actually seemed to like it wild?

She had to pinch her arm. The Chris Cunningham was in her lounge and they were going to get high together. Chris Cunningham (who it turns out is a secret nerd and thinks she’s cute) actually/incredibly/unbelievably seemed to like her enough to confess about his messed up family and nightmares.

(Nobody had ever called her beautiful before. Not even her dad or mom or aunt).

She should probably go and buy a lottery ticket, all things considered.

She steadied herself before she went back through. She felt like a Mage on a quest to solve the riddle of the Cunningham Curse. Sure, she didn’t know how to solve spooky haunting nightmares and banish abusive parents (she assumed kidnapping was out of the question) but she could listen and offer what little support she could muster.

And Chris was dealing with this every single day because of bullshit toxic masculinity and societal pressure which forced the poor guy to feel he had to shoulder it alone.

Well that could get fucked.

“Here we go…As promised, first class pot…Chris?”

Chris was standing very still in the middle of the lounge and as she stepped closer she could see his face had turned a ghostly white. She peered up and saw that his eyes were twitching.

“Hey Chris?” Ellie gently tugged on the green sleeve of his letterman jacket. “Come on, you’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening. God, was he having a seizure? A stroke? She needed to call an ambulance. The lights in the trailer began to flash and she felt the uneasy uncurling of terror in her stomach.

“Chris, please wake up! I don’t like this, please! Say something!”

When he began to rise up in the air, Ellie screamed and fell back on the floor. “Fucking hell!”

This was no seizure or fucking stroke. Something really bad was happening.

Chris began floating higher and higher. His whole face was blank - completely void of anything. Then he shot up and his whole body slammed against the trailer ceiling.

“CHRIS!”

Ellie scrambled back and as she did so, she knocked the radio off the side and the volume rose. Some stupid country song began blaring out at full volume.

Ellie was crying, screaming, gasping for breath. This was like something out of a horror film, only much much worse. She couldn’t just switch this off or hide under a blanket.

She nearly threw up when Chris’ left arm suddenly snapped like it was no more than a twig.

“No!” she sobbed. “Chris! Stop this please. I’m scared, please! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!”

(remember that well-honed ability to pick her fights? To choose to fight or fly?)

She clambered to her feet somehow and stepped up onto the coffee table, reaching up as high as she could to grab at him. She managed to wrap her hands around the lining of his jacket and she pulled with all her might, but he didn’t shift an inch. It was like playing tug-of-war against a mountain.

“Chris!” she screamed. “Please! Stop this!”

And then - miraculously - the lights stopped flashing.

And Chris awoke with a shuddering gasp, and fell right on top of her.

Ellie’s legs buckled beneath her as they tumbled down onto the table with a loud crash. She landed right under him, catching the full brunt of his weight, and tried to ignore the searing pain that came from her ankle as she heaved herself up into a sitting position.

She groaned as she managed to roll Chris over onto his back. His head was cradled in her lap.

She pressed her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse, but her hands were shaking too badly to feel anything.

“Chris,” she whispered. “Please say something. Please don’t be dead. Can you hear me?”

She was crying in earnest now and the tears disappeared into his hair. What the fuck was going to happen if he was…Oh my god.

Chris then suddenly sat up with a cry of terror of his own, making her scream all over again.

He looked fucking insane, rabid, horrified. His chest was heaving like he’d completed a mile long sprint and every line of his body was tense. His big blue eyes were wide and terrified as he looked around them, surveying the broken table and the radio which was still blaring out music. He seemed to need a moment to remember where he was. Then his eyes came to rest on her and he let out the biggest shuddering breath. He took in the tears racing down her cheeks, the flinch of pain when her ankle throbbed, the mix of raw fear and sweet relief that was written across her features like a goddamn neon sign.

He was so close that she could feel his entire body shaking.

And then he was holding her in a hug that was so tight she felt she might explode, but still she twisted her arms up around his shoulders and hung on just as tightly. She could feel him trembling as he cried and tried to convey (in stutteringly split phrases) what the hell just happened, but she couldn’t hear above the ringing in her ears.

Eventually his grip loosened and she gasped for air.

This couldn’t be brushed aside as a dream, a nightmare - he was clutching his broken arm to his chest.

“Chris…you’re really alright?” she mumbled. She was still hanging onto his jacket in case he tried floating away again. “Help me up, need to ring an ambulance…or police…it’s not safe. Hold your arm steady, it’ll need looking at...I think my fucking ankle’s broken.”

She could hear the faint noise of banging coming from nearby (was it the door?) but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Chris.

Chris put a trembling hand to her cheek and wiped away some of the fresh tears with his thumb.

“Ellie…” he croaked. His voice sounded rough like he’d been screaming too. “Ellie…this is going to sound mad…but something just tried to kill me, and I think you saved me.”

A/N: Psss it's definitely The Party at the door, ready to spice it all up.

Quick notes:

Yeah Ellie is soft for Chris and he feels safe with her.

Had to tone back some of Ellie's habits because it wouldn't be realistic or safe for her to do some of the things guy-Eddie gets up to (though really it's not safe for him either).

I changed it so the cheerleaders are the worst. That's not a commentary on 'girls being bitchy' honestly, it's just the guy jocks wouldn't physically act on their resentment with a girl but the cheerleaders can and would.

Chrissy has shown she's a nice person and would feel protective of Eddie in danger - same thing for Chris only as a beefcake guy he's able to express this more literally (as in Ellie going to the Hideout).

Yeah the prototype for Ellie's fictional boyfriend is basically Eddie and vice versa.

Did I want them to kiss? Fuck yes, but maybe if I ever do a part 2. Didn't seem to flow here and really Chris wouldn't make that move. He'd be worried about taking advantage and is keenly aware how it looks that he's alone with Ellie in the trailer. It's about the implication, guys.

Girl Eddie would be scrawny and small, I think. Chrissy is super fit and strong because of her cheerleading so it makes sense Chris would be the same.

Do I like the Breakfast Club? Yeah, a bit, but that ending was crap.

I will not do a 'She's all That' with Ellie. Fuck no.

If I do a part 2 then forgive me for the shit switching of names. Honestly - what would Nancy even be?

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fanfic #ymaohoh #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddissy fanfiction

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