#i suspect that if eddie snaps in some way (he probably will) it will likely be in relation to sally

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

What’s up with the ties between Sally & Eddie?

There are quite a few - to the point where I’m starting to suspect that they may be foils, or at least inherently tied together in the story.

First let's bring things back to the clocks. The “day” side has an obvious resemblance to Sally, like how the “night” side resembles Eddie. There’s not really much I can say here since we don’t know much more yet, and who knows if this has changed behind the scenes. But just think about that, the rarity of the color purple, night vs day, and the “monster”. Keep it in your head, I think it may be important. 

Also the fact that Eddie is the only one with a watch, but Sally’s face has an incredibly similar face on her door.

Obviously Sally has some sort of beef with Eddie, despite him being nothing but friendly and (to our knowledge) being undeserving of it. One thought I entertained was “maybe Sally is dismissive of him because he’s a worker,” but that holds zero water when you consider how perfectly friendly Sally was with Howdy (karen Sally debunked <3). The second thought I had was “maybe Sally senses the queer in Eddie and it intimidates her” - which would make sense if Sally is a lesbian like I suspect. Internalized homophobia, anyone? This holds up if Eddie is going to turn out to be - not open about himself, but comfortable in his skin in a way that, say, Frank isn’t. Which I have a feeling that will be the case, which would likely make Sally put on airs even more so than usual. 

Anyone else seeing a continuous trend of (social) masks and performances unfolding in the Neighborhood? I sure am.

But let’s talk about why I think they might be foils. They balance each other out in an interesting way, despite their only solid similarity being that Both will work/perform no matter the weather. They have a lot of closely related differences:

Eddie has been mentioned (and implied within the story so far) to have a deeper well of knowledge than he lets on, but acts humble about it. Sally has been mentioned (and implied) to know less than she portrays, but acts like a bit of a know-it-all - she pretends to know things that she doesn’t. 

Eddie’s role is about helping others at his own expense, while Sally’s is using others to reach fame. 

Eddie strives to connect with his Neighbors and is all about accuracy/precision. Sally is in her own little world and has proved to be more than willing to improvise / not think things through before acting.

Eddie is slow to anger, and Sally is easily irritated. 

Selfless vs Selfish.

Night vs Day. 

And to put them in the Johari Window - i believe that Sally resides in the Blind Spot (known to others, not known to self), and Eddie resides in either the Facade (not known to others, known to self) OR the Unknown (not known to others, not known to self). Personally I’m starting to believe that Eddie may reside in both. 

It’s far too early to draw any real conclusions, and theorizing on all of this is difficult. I feel as though - as usual - we have puzzle pieces but no frame of reference for the way they fit together, what picture they build. And who knows, tomorrow’s update may shred this to ribbons, but I doubt it. 

One thought I had was that they’re in cahoots about something - it doesn’t have to be something malicious or some sort of secret plot, it could simply be something they both know and are trying to keep quiet about. Eddie is trying to connect with Sally since they have this in common, but Sally is actively putting distance between them to preserve their secret / plausible deniability. Do I actually believe this? Meh. I’m just throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks.

So current base thoughts: Sally is dismissive of Eddie either because he intimidates/scares her on an internalized level, or she’s actively trying to put distance between them for a currently unknown reason. There’s probably a secret third option I haven’t even considered!

[blushweddinggowns]

Nancy furrowed her brow as she went to answer it, just as confused as everyone else, “Hello? What? I-Fred please be quiet for one second! How did you know I was here- I know the article is due but I’m in the- why call me if you aren’t going to let me talk!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know what? Yeah, just wait for me at school. I’ll be there in a few hours. Yes, hours! I’m hanging up now.”

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before addressing everyone, “It wasn’t important. I just have to stop at the school at some point today. But for now we should get going-”

But Wayne wasn’t having it. He turned back to the duo, pointing an accusing finger their way,“If either of you think you’re stepping out of this house you have another damn thing coming-”

“Okay!” Eddie interrupted, reaching out to grab Wayne’s arms, “It’s time to talk in private. The rest of you stay here.”

Eddie dragged Wayne into the back room, Steve following meekly behind. They could still hear them in such a small space, hushed voices arguing in Eddie’s room.

It made Chrissy feel weird, like she was intruding on a family moment. She knew she was, they all were. Dustin even went as far as to turn on the TV, effectively giving them the noise they needed to keep their conversation private.

“Oh my god,” Dustin breathed after a few seconds, “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

Chrissy glanced at the screen, her stomach dropping when she saw what it was. It was her school photo. Followed with a reporter’s voiceover, “...following a cryptic voicemail, that police suspect was a forced call. Considering the untimely deaths of multiple young women in the town of Hawkins, we need a prompt and quick response in regards to finding this young lady. If anyone knows the whereabouts of Chrissy Cunningham please call your local authorities immediately. 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. She should have known. Of course her mom would go straight to the police. She knew that call had been pointless. Worse than pointless. If she had never said anything then she probably wouldn’t have even realized Chrissy was gone until today. 

“We can’t stay here,” Chrissy said suddenly, already feeling frantic.

“Why not?” Dustin asked, his brow furrowed, “No one else even knows you're here!”

But Robin was already moving, cursing under her breath as she got her shoes on, “Because if anyone looking for her has a single working brain cell they’ll look for me. And how do you find me?”

“You find Steve?” Dustin asked, still watching in confusion as the rest of the girls got ready to go.

“And if you’re looking for Steve,” Robin asked, “Where would you go?”

“Here,” Dustin grumbled, finally catching on. 

“There you fucking go,” Robin sighed, before calling down the hall, “Steve, Eddie, we gotta go. Now!”

“Give us a damn minute!” Eddie yelled back, but Robin wasn’t having it. She marched back there, dragging a confused Chrissy with her. 

The three men stared at them as Robin dug around, talking as she searched, “They reported Chrissy missing so that means cops are almost certainly on their way here. We need to go now-aha!”

She held up Eddie walkman, before waltzing over to Chrissy to put the headphones over her ears. She hummed the melody as she snatched the tape out of Eddie’s player, snapping quickly into the walkman and pressing play.

“There,” She said with a gentle smile, interlacing Chrissy’s fingers with her own, “Now you’re mobile.”

She turned back to Eddie and Steve, her voice softening at the kicked-puppy look on Steve’s face, “We’ll wait outside, but we need to think of a place to hide. Fast.”

“I already know a place,” Eddie sighed, waving them off. He threw his keys in their direction, Robin just catching them in time as he kept his eyes on Wayne, “Go to the van and hide in the back. We’ll be out in a minute.”

Chrissy nodded, and then Robin was dragging her off. She chanced one look back at them, her heart breaking a little at the devastated look on Wayne’s face. She felt so bad. Yes, whatever this was had started before her, but she was the brand new reason she was involved. Why all of these people were now risking themselves for her of all people. 

“This isn’t your fault, y’know,” Robin said quietly as she unlocked the van’s door, the rest of the group talking quietly amongst themselves in front of the beemer, “I can see your brain working over there.”

Chrissy shrugged as she climbed inside, settling in the back. Robin sat beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Chrissy wished Robin would think about stuff like that, how often she touched her. Or maybe Chrissy wished she could start thinking of it less.

“Maybe not everything,” She mumbled, “But it’s my fault you’re involved now. Maybe you guys could have been the bystanders for once if I never happened.”

“I doubt it,” Robin laughed softly, giving Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. ``I got involved by working at an ice cream shop. Don’t underestimate the randomness of this crap. Besides…”

She trailed off, scooting closer to lay her head against Chrissy’s shoulder. Close enough for the warmth of her breath to tickle Chrissy’s neck, “Getting to know you is more than worth the trouble.”

From the latest chapter of this fic

[love-toxin]

my ass is craving for male! angel face who's in the basketball team and is flirty little shit who's a perv with a perv! bully! Eddie

teehee....flirty male angelface my love.....

pretty boy

(cws: bully!perv!eddie, flirty!jock!m!angelface, homophobia, "freak" used in the homophobic sense, violence/fighting, bruises, one shower trope [kinda], clothes stealing, bullying, eddie's got a staring problem, angel's kind of a charming loner.)

you're kind of an anomaly--you're pretty well-liked, and the girls just flock to you most of the time, but you don't really date or have many friends. of course, that just maximizes the intrigue for the ladies, but you're really not too worried about them....not that they or most people really know that. on the other hand, despite being one of the better basketball players in Hawkins, your team absolutely despises you. Sinclair's pretty much the only one who doesn't, he's a pretty cool kid and you've enjoyed giving him some pointers now and again, but Jason and the rest of them often like to throw names your way and do their best to keep you on the bench as much as possible. if you weren't the one getting them through most of the finals, you'd probably just quit, and the coach wouldn't be begging you to stay--you really only do it cause you like it, and it's a way to pass the time.

of course, the most pressing reason they hate you is cause you're different--you're a freak, and they make sure you remember that every time they force you to wait outside until they're all done showering and changing. and yet you're rarely ever really alone when you finally get off the bench with a sigh and walk in, the empty changing room squeaking to life when you flip on the shower to wash off. if it wasn't for Eddie, they'd probably never suspect you, and you could get through your second try of your last year in peace--you probably wouldn't be on your second try in the first place.

but you have to be honest with yourself. at the end of the day, you haven't really done much to keep him away. you like the attention, but you only really like it from him--including when you feel his eyes on your back as you rub soap down your arms. for all his chains and buttons and leather, the man moves like a damn panther when he doesn't want to be heard.

"if you wanna beat me up, take a number. I already got my ass kicked once today." you chuckle, knowing he's closer than you think if you can feel him staring so intensely, as you call out into the echoey locker room. "unless you're just here to steal my clothes, in which case you're gonna have to figure out my new locker combo. try your birthday, babe." you smile to yourself, knowing you're earning yourself a higher place on Eddie's shit list the more you tease him. although, to be frank, you're pretty much the only name on that list in the first place.

the silence creeps in closer, hanging in the background of the hail of warm water hitting your body and the cold tiles under your feet. there's not even an ounce of shuffling that you can hear, and it dampens your smile until you find yourself scowling at the silver shower handle in front of you.

"they asked about you, y'know." you say with a sobering voice, lathering your body wash in a rougher manner than you need to between your hands. "last time they beat me up. asked if I was gonna go suck you off after practice for your devil rituals."

people's opinions don't generally bother you, you try not to let them--it's one of the reasons why you're such a target, especially for Eddie, who's always trying to get a reaction out of you. he loves it when you show even an inkling of losing your cool, of snapping back at him, but he rarely gets the passionate response that he really wants. so he keeps pushing, pushing, pushing, until it takes all you have to grit your teeth and smile so you don't punch him right in that stupid, pretty face.

"....you know, you really don't make my life easy, you prick." you huff. "but by all means, take what you want. go show it off to your shitty little friends at satan worship club."

you can't imagine he does anything else with the things of yours he steals, other than pawn them off or keep them for whatever reason. you'd feel more violated if he didn't occasionally sneak them back into your locker or your backpack--always washed, which just makes you more concerned than angry.

".....Eddie?" you call out again, leaning back and searching the space you can see from where you stand, a twinge of panic shooting through you at the uncanny silence. if he was watching you, he'd usually make himself known at some point--and now you fear it might not be him, and goosebumps rise to your skin at the thought that some of your team members are waiting in the wings to dish out more humiliating punishment. and if they've been listening to what you've said when you thought you were talking to Eddie, you really fear for yourself. but just as you're reaching to turn the handle and shut off the water, a sudden thud makes you jump and then there's someone standing in the doorway between the shower block and the locker room.

that messy mop of hair gives it away immediately, a towel wrapped round his waist that comes off as he approaches the showerhead right next to yours and turns it on. you catch Eddie's grin from your peripheral as you go from gawking openly at him showing up to averting your eyes when he strips himself bare, so used to avoiding even the appearance of impropriety around other guys that it's just habit--even though Eddie's staring pretty obviously when you manage to look him in the eyes. the wash of water pouring over his head mats down his curls and accentuates the distinct features of his face, as well as the ink contrasting his fair skin that seems to crop up everywhere you dare to look.

"devil rituals, huh? clever." his smile doesn't reach his eyes, those big, brown beauties betraying something that chills you a little when they're directed at you. he goes about washing himself off, but he's clearly distracted--and so are you, rendered speechless even when he steals a bit of your body wash and rubs it down his chest, staring off into the distance as you try to focus on doing the same. it's strange. oddly domestic, showering next to each other.....and Eddie keeps glancing back in the direction of the door, seemingly keeping his ears perked for any sounds outside the norm. "....that where the bruises came from?"

he asks it so casually you almost do a double take, but thinking better of it, you keep yourself fixed on one of the random floor tiles as the answer just dribbles out of you.

"getting 'beat up'....that was a little dramatic. they just kinda....throw me around. can't break their star player's arm, y'know." you laugh without a shred of humour behind it, running through the events of this morning behind the school like they just happened. it's always just a little scuffle, some pushing and shoving and sometimes a punch thrown, it's mostly the jeers that hurt--and you know better than to fight back, lest they flex that power they have to make sure nobody believes you over them. you're associated with Eddie Munson, after all.

you rub over one of the bruises on your ribs, hissing sharply but quietly at the ache as your fingers graze it. doesn't help that your teammates, save Sinclair, thoroughly enjoy elbowing you or tossing the ball hard enough that those spots hurt even more during practice. and Eddie notices, as he always does, even though you'd never think he would.

"let's get one thing straight," Eddie turns his gaze to yours, and pierces you straight to the bone. it's weird, you don't really get close to a lot of people, but Eddie always seems to be able to read you like nobody else could. "it's no fun to dogpile someone that's already on the ground. it's just depressing."

he flicks his wet hair over his shoulder, and you follow the motion it makes as it drapes over his shoulder and down his back. he's not really that hairy, aside from the smattering of hair down his stomach that leads to--you shake your head free of where you're tempted to look, though the thought doesn't wrestle free from your mind and won't for a while. without a reply, Eddie rinses the rest of the soap off that he's lathered around that area, and thinks hard before he speaks again.

"where's the fun in pushing you around if you're just going through the motions? besides, you look so pathetic when you're lonely." lonely. does he really think that way? does he know how often you lay awake in the mornings, knowing what's coming in the day ahead, and wishing you weren't so much of a freak that you could have some friends to rely on when things get too hard to deal with?

"so you're keeping me company?" you test, sharing another look that he keeps locked so you don't even think you could break it if you tried.

"nothing of the sort." he smirks as he takes stock of your body one more time, from the toes to the top of your head. "I'm just enjoying the view."

with that, he shuts off his own shower, and pads away without a second glance to leave you watching his back, up until he turns the corner to the lockers and disappears. with a bit of shuffling and shifting clothes, you listen closely until his shoes thump against the floor and the door opens, before slowly creaking shut with a final thunk.

"so you are a freak." you speak aloud to nobody but yourself, a chuckle coming off your lips borne of nothing but disbelief. you just have to roll your eyes as you turn the handle on your own shower, but there's a grin you can't hide creeping across your lips as the spout sputters to an end and you wrap your towel round your hips, before following where Eddie had gone and approaching the lockers around the corner. but when you see what he left for you, you grimace.

"oh, you asshole."

your locker door left open and empty, your bag sits clearly rummaged through on the bench, one of your socks having fallen to the floor while the rest of your clothes are missing. and when you pull it open all the way to see if there's anything to salvage your dignity other than a measly towel, you're met with a very familiar logo as you lean over it.

sitting crumpled and half-folded, but very clearly smoothed out so you wouldn't miss it, is Eddie's Hellfire shirt. pushing it aside, you see the jeans he must've been wearing today rolled up underneath. no underwear to speak of, although you're not sure you'd wanna wear his anyways. with everyone else gone, you have no other options--so you're forced to don the sweaty clothes that reek of cigarettes and weed, but even moreso, they reek of Eddie. part of you wonders, as you huff and gather your things together to beat a hasty retreat out of the school, whether people will notice that Eddie's wearing your clothes too. maybe they'll wonder....

whatever. you need to get out of here, and you sling your bag over your shoulder before hurrying out the door and shoving your hands in pockets that aren't yours, tilting your head down and hoping nobody spots you--but just as you're at the doors that lead out to your car, you hear someone's voice down the semi-empty hall; what sounds like a very familiar freshman squabbling with someone.

"Eddie, what the hell?! if you're gonna make me cover for you, at least come back on time! and where's your shirt? why's your hair wet?"

"nunya, Henderson. let's get going."

and when you turn to look, there's Eddie, looming over his protégé with that same award-winning smile--the two of them turn to walk down the hall towards their clubroom, but before they duck in through the door, Eddie turns his head over his shoulder to lock eyes with you, completely knowingly. he runs his stare over your body one more time, clearly enjoying how you fill out his clothes as he mouths the words "pretty boy", and winks in your direction before vanishing through the doorway and closing it behind him.

he's one to talk, he's really one to talk--looking so much softer in your sweater and acid-wash jeans, so cute, that you have to cover the flickering smile you've got at the compliment with your hand as you step out into the chilly air, and feel your still-damp skin prickle as the breeze hits it while you walk to your car.

[callunavulgari]

Eddie finds Stevie in the boy’s bathroom. It’s a Monday, which means that he’s still half asleep and reeling from Mr. Donaldson’s delightful first period lecture on The Catcher and the fucking Rye when he stumbles through the doors to the bathroom tucked around the back corner near the band room. Not the good bathroom by the language hall, no— the good bathroom was the one that the cool kids used. The one that Eddie frequents is the one with the ancient wonky toilet that no one ever actually uses because there’s a fifty-fifty chance of the singular working toilet in the room either flushing like normal or of it deciding to fuck you completely and flooding halfway down the hallway.

It’s been Eddie’s designated smoking spot since Rick let him in on the secret halfway through his sophomore year at good ole Hawkins High. Ninety-five percent of the time the room’s an absolute ghost town and if someone does show up it’s usually a fellow stoner looking for somewhere quiet to self-medicate before they’re subjected to the mind numbing horrors of Jeb fucking Houser’s government class a few doors down.

Which is why Eddie’s surprised to swing the doors open on a random Monday in late April and find the room already occupied— not by any of the usual suspects, but by Stevie goddamn Harrington, the queen bee of Hawkins High herself.

For a long moment, Eddie just stares at her like a deer in headlights, his fingers going lax around the cigarette that he’d already shaken loose from the pack. He doesn’t even notice it tumbling to the ground.

She’s sitting on the floor. 

That’s what he keeps getting stuck on. 

She’s just sitting there with her knees splayed out against the grimy tile, her body crumpled back against the far wall like a puppet with its strings cut. Her hair is still big, her nails still perfect, but there had been sniffles when he walked in, loud and ominous in the quiet until she’d clocked him standing there, her head snapping towards him.

Looking at her now… yeah, those are tears. Her dark eyes are big and round and wet, her lashes clumped hopelessly together with even more unshed tears. There are faint tracks down her cheeks where her mascara has run, black smears that skate past her chin.

For a long moment, they both just stare at each other in horrified silence. And then Eddie shifts awkwardly and breaks the stare down, belatedly stooping to scoop up his cigarette.

“Sorry,” he says, gesturing at the cigarette by way of explanation. He jerks the zippo from his pocket and jiggles it in her direction. “I just, uh—” He hesitates, not sure what to say. Should he offer to leave? Leave her to the dubious privacy of the shittiest bathroom in the school and give her back some modicum of her dignity? He thinks that’s probably his best option, to just turn around and get the heck out of dodge, but at the last second, he changes his mind, holding the cigarette out in question. “—you mind?”

Stevie blinks at him, the wet drag of her lashes terribly distracting. He watches them kiss her cheeks as if in slow motion and thinks for a moment, appallingly, of whether they’d feel whisper-soft against the palm of his hand if he touched them, a ghost of a touch like a butterfly’s wings.

Eddie watches in real time as she tries to compose herself, sniffing hard and wiping under her eyes as her spine goes straighter, her knees tucking back together all prim and proper. She bites her lip and for a moment he thinks that she’s going to argue with him, tell him to get out and go find another place to smoke.

Instead, she gives him a slightly watery smile and thrusts a hand out expectantly. “Only if you’ve got one to spare.”

[p0und-cake]

The Dead Kid’s Brother and the Freak (Part Three)

Part One ! Part Two !

eddie munson x male!hargrove!reader

STRANGER THINGS SEASON FOUR SPOILERS

summary: three parter! first part is about how reader and eddie met, second is them getting together, and this one is reader being infected by vecna’s curse ! (Yay this part is finally done!!)

warnings - mention of death, mention of attempted unaliving, arguing/fighting, cursing, mentions of abuse

———————————————————————————

“When the hell are those idiots getting back here?” You hissed angrily, trying to wipe off some blood that had randomly started flowing from your nose. “Shit, and now my nose is bleeding.”

You were at your wits’ end at this point. You were so fucking tired of everything. You wanted to go home and sleep in your own damn bed. You wanted to eat as much garbage as you wanted. You didn’t want to live as a murder suspect for the rest of your damn life. You needed to go back and support Max and Susan. You were still young!

“They better be back soon. I’m getting freaked the hell out!” Eddie exclaimed, pacing around back and forth on the ground. “Oh god oh god…we’re so screwed! We’re so damn screwed!!”

Your face was twisted into a snarl as you watched him walk around, head absolutely pounding. You pulled off your jacket and threw it down at Eddie from the top of the rock. “Would you stop that?!”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the jacket you threw at him falling to the dirty forest floor. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head at you like a confused puppy. He then seemed to finally register that your nose was bleeding. “Oh- shit, doll, here-!” He was about to come up and help you with your bloody nose, but he hadn’t expected you to smack his hand away once he got up there. “Baby..?”

“You pacing down there and muttering all that pessimistic shit isn’t helping the situation, Ed!” You snapped. “My head is fucking killing me and I didn’t get an ounce of sleep because of that damn nightmare I keep having! So please, cut it out!”

Eddie stopped, not knowing how to react exactly. You hadn’t ever used that tone of voice with him before. It would probably be expected. He felt terrible you were in this kind of situation. You didn’t deserve any of it, especially being treated like a suspect because of you having a dead brother. Apparently the story had gone something like ‘he went crazy after the death of his younger sibling’, which Eddie personally thought was bullshit.

He sat with you every night when you had nightmares about that fateful night. He remembered bolting out of his trailer in the trailer park when he heard your scream faintly from the trailer across from his. You would tend to leave your window unlocked after the first few nights this happened, so Eddie could hurriedly climb inside and practically leap onto your bed so he could hold you. He would cradle you in his arms and stroke your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

The last thing you were was crazy. All you were was traumatized. You were guilt-ridden. You would never hurt anybody, much less hurt someone like the way Chrissy was killed.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry…” Eddie sat next to you on the rock. “If you want to try and get some more sleep, I’ll hold you. All that stress might be getting to your head or something, so some rest could help you feel a little better.”

“Oh, we are way past that.” You muttered, crossing your arms and not acknowledging Eddie’s frown at you.

“Okayyy…I dunno what your problem is, but can you maybe not talk to me like that? I know this is a shitty situation but I’m trying to help you, babe.” He said, tensing up. Was this about to be an argument? A fight? He never thought he’d have one of those with you.

Yeah, a couple that doesn’t fight is a bit unrealistic, but the only fights you two ever had were small disagreements that the both of you knew were never serious. You’d yell at each other over Dungeons and Dragons sometimes but you both would smile by the end of it.

“My problem?” You looked at him in disbelief. “Well, Munson-”

“Oh, so we’re not even on first name basis anymore-?”

“-my problem is that I’m hiding out in the fucking woods from the cops because I’m a murder suspect! That’s my damn problem! Not to mention I’m a murder suspect because my brother is dead, which a handful of people think I did, by the way!” You stood up on the rock, the bottled up rage you had finally spilling over. “I’m scared, I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I keep having these stupid headaches and nightmares! Every night I’m reliving the worst moments of my life! And who the hell knows what’s happening to my sister right now? What if something happened to her while I’m here like a fucking sitting duck?!”

“Well, you don’t think I’m scared, hungry, and tired too?!” Before he knew it, Eddie was shouting back at you, standing up to meet your level. “Goddamn it, babe, there’s nothing we can do about this, so I would really appreciate it if you quit acting like I can just make everything better! If you wanna leave, then be my guest, darling!” His face moved close to yours, his voice painfully condescending.

“Maybe I will!” You snapped. “I’ll go get fucking arrested, how about that?!”

“What do you want me to say?!” Eddie shot back. “Jesus christ, I don’t know what you want from me!”

That’s when you realized, you didn’t know what you wanted from him either. Why were you yelling at him? What did he do wrong? Eddie was only trying to help. Apparently you’d been quiet for too long, as Eddie kept talking.

“See? You don’t even know! So why the hell are you yelling at me?! Try watching Chrissy Cunningham’s bones snap in all different directions, then see what it’s like!”

“Oh yeah?!” Your fire only got refueled. “Try watching your little brother get fucking murdered by a fucking Mind Flayer! Yeah, you really think he died in a damn fire?! I sat with my sister and held him while he died!” Tears filled your eyes and fell at the memory.

“A what?” Eddie spluttered, but then shook his head. “That’s not what this is about! It’s not my fault he died, so why are you taking this out on me? If you wanna leave, go right on ahead! If you wanna get caught by the damn cops or whatever killed Chrissy and Patrick then be my guest!”

Then, within a couple seconds, he was on the ground. You had shoved him. “Goddamn it, Ed!” You hopped off the rock. “Fuck you!”

Eddie watched from the ground as you stomped off into the woods alone. When you were out of view he sighed to himself.

“Shit.”

-

After around a minute or so of walking, you leaned up against a tree and started to cry. Why the hell did you do that? Eddie was only trying to help you, and you flew off the handle at him. Maybe he wouldn’t have said what he said if you hadn’t started screaming at him. Nonetheless, it still hurt. You didn’t really know how long you sat and sobbed for, but you were interrupted by a loud sound.

It…sounded like a clock.

You stood up, intrigued by the sound. You nervously walked in the direction of it.

“Ed..?” You called out, but there was no response. “Eddie..?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw an antique grandfather clock just…stuck inside of a tree.

“The hell?” You mumbled, and then a voice spoke behind you that sent a horrifying chill down your spine.

“You think that pothead’s gonna come and save you after what he said to you, big brother?”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to turn around or not. Your curiosity got the better of you and you slowly turned around, the air being drawn out of your throat in a gasp at the figure standing there.

“B-B-Buh-”

“Buh-Buh-Buh-!” Billy mocked, his eyes holding fake sympathy and innocence. He was in the same outfit as you last saw him in. White tank top and jeans, but the only difference was the appalling, disgusting, grotesque hole in his abdomen. You hadn’t seen his face in such a long time, except for in your nightmares. So…what was this? Another nightmare?

“Billy…” You managed out, trying not to let your voice get caught in your throat. “I-I-It’s been so long…I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry for everything!” You blurted, your apologies you wanted to tell Billy since his death spilling out like a pot of water boiling over.

You apologized for what happened to Mom. You apologized for not being able to prevent Neil from hurting him. You apologized for neglecting him when you moved to Hawkins. You apologized for not saving him.

All he did was stare at you. His thick eyebrows were pulled downward and his mouth didn’t move. His fists stayed clenched by his sides. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking.

“Billy? Please, say something!” You begged, and you were about to walk over to him, but his words stopped you.

“You aren’t really sorry, are you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re just like Max. Part of you wanted me to die that day, hm?”

“What?! Billy, no, that’s not true!” You stammered. “Billy, I love you more than anything, I never wanted you to die!”

“Then why did you leave me alone?” Billy scowled. “You’d go and fuck around with those assholes who never even gave a shit about you. You’d fuck around and hardly even think about me. Then you tried to kill yourself like that would solve anything. I saved your goddamn life and you were about to throw it away.”

“B-Billy- I-I’m sorry…”

“It’s time for your suffering to come to an end, big brother.”

-

“Shit…” Eddie mumbled, his body trembling as he sat at the base of Skull Rock. “Baby just come back…I’m so sorry…Jesus fucking Christ I screwed up so so bad…” he stared in the direction you’d stormed off in. He obviously knew you couldn’t hear him, but just maybe if he begged quietly enough you’d come back. He couldn’t leave. What if the others showed up and no one was there?

Eventually, he spotted Steve and Dustin push through the leaves. Before he could even say anything, Max shoved through everybody there. Her blue eyes stared into Eddie after they darted around the area.

“Where’s my brother?” She asked, stepping closer to Eddie. Her gaze intensified when Eddie averted his eyes and gave no answer. “Eddie Munson tell me where my brother is!!” She exclaimed, but Steve came forward and gently touched her shoulder as a way to tell her to back off.

Robin squeezed between the two and looked at Eddie.

“Look Munson, you gotta tell us what happened to Hargrove.” She said seriously.

“…I screwed the hell up.” Eddie mumbled quietly.

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did something happen?”

“We were…both stressin’ the hell out, y’know? So I think I pissed him off a little and he started yelling at me, and we were fighting…” Eddie explained, Robin taking a seat next to him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Then I…I told him to leave. And he did. I-I dunno where he went but-”

“You told him to leave and didn’t look for him?!” Max exclaimed.

“I was waiting for you guys!” Eddie stammered back.

Max was fuming, Kate Bush still blaring through her ears. “You idiot! Which way did he go?!”

Eddie immediately pointed in the direction of where you left, and Max stormed off in that direction, calling out your name.

“Shit, are you serious?” Steve mumbled, running a hand through his gorgeous hair. “Let’s all go look for him. In groups.” He said.

“Nance?” Robin looked over to her, who averted her eyes.

“Sure.” She said curtly, going with Robin into the woods.

“I’ll find Max.” Lucas quickly said and ran to where Max had gone.

“Come on, Henderson. You too, Eddie.” Steve demanded.

“Just volunteer me like that, okay.” Dustin mumbled, going up to Steve and following him into the woods, Eddie not too far behind.

It didn’t take too long for someone to find you. Eddie, Steve, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy were alerted by the sound of Max’s panicked yelling.

“Well, looks like they found him!” Steve exclaimed, but Eddie was already running to where they heard Max’s voice. Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever run so fast, but he about froze in his tracks when he found Max and Lucas.

There stood you, his boyfriend, in the middle of the woods. Your eyes were puffy and face tear-streaked, but that’s not what he was worried about. Your eyes were rolled into the back of your head. You looked exactly like Chrissy had that night.

Max was in tears, frantically shaking you despite the fact she knew it wouldn’t do anything. “Come on, you gotta wake up!” She choked out.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed when he and Steve arrived. He hurried over and grabbed multiple tapes from Max’s Walkman. “His favorite song! What is it?!”

“I-I dunno-!” Max replied, still trying to shake your still body awake.

“Why do we need to know his favorite song?!” Eddie exclaimed, finally finding his voice and going up next to Max. Although he knew he needed to do something. How would he be able to live with himself if you died the same way Chrissy did after what he said to you? He finally realized how badly he was shaking when he reached out to touch you, Max’s screams beside him deafening.

“Just- what is it?!” Steve exclaimed, and Eddie realized all eyes were on him. They figured he would know it.

“Wh- she doesn’t know it?!” He gestured to Max, silently cursing himself for his voice cracking.

“No! You talk to him more than me!” Max shouted, Robin and Nancy finally showing up to the scene. “Hurry up and think!!”

Eddie’s breathing increased, searching for any memory of a conversation of which you mentioned a particular song you liked. It was hard to think with the redhead screaming next to him and everybody freaking out. You tended to listen to stuff like AC/DC or The Scorpions, or sometimes Def Leppard. Although Eddie could never recall you saying that a song by say, Guns N’ Roses was your favorite. What about special moments between the two of you? What songs tended to pop up?

‘Time After Time’ by Cyndi Lauper played when the two of you had your first kiss up on that rock.

You both had your first time later that night to the tune of ‘Africa’ by Toto.

He went through some more songs and then he remembered.

Dungeons and Dragons that day hadn’t gone too well for Eddie, plus school hadn’t been great for him either. It was pretty obvious people thought of him as a freak. This man was like 20 and still in school. Usually people’s words didn’t bother him, but something about today was a little different. He had also had a nightmare the previous night too, which had freaked him out pretty bad. He just had a bad day, which you picked up quickly whenever he called you from across the street. Usually he just came over.

You’d walked over to where he resided, waving to Mr. Munson who was on his way out to go work. He almost instantly met you in the living room, hardly giving you any chance to speak before he hugged you tightly. He ignored all your questioning, just focusing on your embrace. He let out a soft, content sigh as he felt you run your fingers through his frizzy hair.

“Bad day, Ed?” You had crooned.

“Mmhm…” he softly mumbled in agreement, letting his face find a nice hiding spot in the crook of your neck. “Today sucked ass.”

You let a soft chuckle escape your lips at his phrasing and kissed the top of Eddie’s head. “Let’s go lay down and we can talk about it.” You gently removed his face from its little hiding spot and kissed his cheek before you led him back to his room.

After he explained everything to you, you kissed his cheek before hopping up and telling you that you would be right back. He waited about a minute or two and you came back with a walkman and a certain tape.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” you’d started, a faint pink hue in your cheeks. Were you embarrassed? “And when this song came out, I started to listen to it whenever I was sad. I would kinda dance around to it in my room like a total idiot. Billy caught me once and never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled sadly at the memory. “I’ll let you listen to it since it might help you too, but you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Aww, is my wittle baby embawwassed?” Eddie teased, standing up and pulling you in close to him, kissing all over your face.

You huffed and gently punched his chest. “I’m trying to open up to you right now Eddie and make you feel better. Do you wanna hear the song or not?” You puffed out your cheeks in irritation.

“Okay, just stop making that face.” He joked, poking your cheek. “You look like a pufferfish.”

“Jackass.”

“You love me, doll. I promise not to make fun of you either.” He hummed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Alright babe, hit me.”

You sighed a little at his antics, but there was a smile on your face. You gently placed the headphones over his ears, pressing play.

He waited a little and let the song start playing before he giggled just a little.

“I told you not to make fun of me-!” You whined.

“I’m not!” Eddie quickly defended, still letting soft giggles out. “It’s cute!” You didn’t seem to believe him, so he stood and slipped the Walkman into his pocket. You were confused but then he placed his hand on your waist and held your hand on the other. You understood what he was getting at and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you even know how to dance?” You asked, squinting at him. “Besides, I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“This is comforting.” Eddie shrugged. “And I can figure it out. Probably.”

“I know!” Eddie shouted out. “I know it! Lemme see the goddamn tapes!” He took them from Steve and looked through them. “It’s not here!”

This only aroused more panic, especially from Max. Then Eddie got an idea.

“Can any of you sing?!”

“…” All eyes immediately went to a certain member of the group.

“Shit.” Dustin muttered, raising his hand.

-

You had been running, and long story short, you were in some kind of…blood dimension. It was something you might see out of a movie. You just had to get away from this thing. Was it the thing that killed Chrissy? As you ran, you eventually made it to some sort of…was it a house? But then you saw it.

Vecna.

Your breathing only increased if that was even possible. You turned to run away, screaming Eddie’s name. As if he would or could come and save you. Something wrapped around your leg and dragged you back screaming. In a heartbeat you were trapped up against a weird, fleshy pillar. It was really gross.

“Let go! Get off!” You cried out at the disgusting creature in front of you. You squirmed and kicked but nothing happened as a weird…thing slithered up and grasped your throat. Vecna said something to you, but you couldn’t exactly tell what it was. This was it. You were gonna die. There was so much you had wanted to do in life, but you weren’t gonna be able to. Billy’s words repeated in your head. Was he gonna say the same thing when you saw him in the afterlife? What was Eddie going to think when he saw your limbs twisted like a snapped twig.

Then, you heard it.

“Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong

You're enchained by your own sorrow

In your eyes, there is no hope for tomorrow

How I hate to see you like this

There is no way you can deny it

I can see that you're oh, so sad, so quiet”

Chiquitita. The song you always listened to when you were sad. The song you made Eddie listen to and danced with him in his bedroom to. But it wasn’t ABBA singing it. Was that…Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson? A small hole/portal opened up in the far back of the scary dimension. You were floating in the air where you first heard the clock. Dustin, Lucas, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, and Eddie were panicking below. Dustin and Eddie’s mouths were both moving slower than the others, and then you realized they were singing to you to help you.

But Vecna looked pissed.

His grasp on your throat tightened, and you could feel your eyes roll back into your head before you snapped out of it. You couldn’t die here. Not while Max and Eddie were there. Billy gave his life for yours and others, so you couldn’t let what he did go to waste.

“Get…off…you…FUCK FACE!” You wheezed, lifting your leg and kicking Vecna where the sun doesn’t shine. Well, where it would be. He instantly let go, and you had never run so damn fast in your entire life.

“Chiquitita, tell me the truth

I'm a shoulder you can cry on

Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on

You were always sure of yourself

Now, I see you've broken a feather

(How it hurts to see you cry)

(And how it hurts to see you sad)

I hope we can patch it up together”

Vecna started to throw…well, something at you. You weren’t about to look back and risk being slaughtered. One of the objects fell directly behind you and caused you to fly forward face first in the…blood? Yucky. Choking on the crimson substance, you scrambled up and started running once more.

“Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go

And the scars they're leaving

You'll be dancing once again

And the pain will end

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky

And shining above you

(Even though you cry)

(The sun is shining in the sky)

Let me hear you sing once more

(So let me hear you sing some more)

Like you did before

(The way you used to do before)

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more, like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita”

You were almost there. You could see the group better. It broke your heart to see Max and Eddie both crying. Eddie’s voice shook while he sung. Max was trembling in Lucas’ arms, which only kicked up your adrenaline and you ran even faster, yelling your sister’s name.

“MAX!” You screamed out in desperation. “I’M COMING, MAX!”

Then your world turned stark white.

Your eyes opened, and you were suddenly falling, screaming out as you did.

Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry, but you felt a pair of arms around you and frizzy hair was seen from the corner of your eyes. Eddie? Your breathing was quick, grasping onto Eddie tightly and inhaling in the small scent of his house that was left after hiding out in multiple places. Eddie was saying something to you, and you felt his lips touch the top of your head, but you weren’t focused on him.

“Max…” you whispered, trying to get your vision to work properly again. “Max…you okay..?”

You recognized the red hair approaching and your vision and hearing came back to you. Max knelt in front of you, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“You idiot, you almost got killed and you’re asking if I’m okay?” She mumbled, wiping her eyes furiously. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t…bullshit me.” You said softly, and pushed away from Eddie, ignoring your body trembling. “C’mere…sis.” As soon as you held out your arms, Max was in them, hugging you tightly.

“I…I’m glad I didn’t lose you, too.” She muttered quiet enough for only you to hear.

“I know…I’m sorry I got you worried. But I’m not letting some nasty-ass monster get me.” You chuckled, grinning when she laughed a little as well. She pulled away with a soft sniffle.

“Yeah, of course.” She said, already seeming to be doing better. She looked to Eddie beside you, who unbeknownst to you, was still in tears. He felt so guilty about what he said. She pondered for a moment before standing up. “I think Eddie wants to say something. In private.” She pointedly looked at the others.

“Yeah, come on.” Robin nodded, leading the others away a little to give you both privacy.

You turned a little to look at Eddie, who definitely looked like he was aching to say something. You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“Baby I am so so sorry.” He blurted, tears in his eyes. “You don’t have to forgive me, I’m not expecting you to. I-I fucked up so so so bad. There was no reason for me to have said what I said. There’s no justification or any of that shit. I-I never m-meant for this to happen, I swear to whatever God is out there. God, Zeus, who the hell ever! Just please know I never want to see you hurt, and if I could take back what I said, I’d do whatever it took.” His voice shook like you’d never heard before, and it broke so many times. Tears spilled from his gorgeous eyes, but he never looked away from you.

“Eddie-” a sob escaped your throat and you threw your arms around him. “I’m the one who should be sorry…I started saying that awful shit when you were trying to help. I’m so fucking sorry. I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me…just please don’t leave me…” you whimpered pathetically into the crook of his neck. “I thought I would never see you or Max ever again. I don’t care about some argument anymore. I just want you.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Eddie sighed out shakily in relief, holding you close and cradling you like he had countless times when you were sad.

The both of you sat together and cried. You both cried until Steve came back and made you come to Skull Rock. But even then…you never stopped making contact. You held each other’s hands the whole time.

“Eddie..?” You whispered softly after he picked you up in his arms.

“Yes, doll..?” His voice was delicate glass.

“You really sang Chiquitita for me with Dustin Henderson?” You giggled, and he just smiled and kissed your temple.

“For you, a thousand times over.”

[turtleedovee]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Chapter Five: Something Wicked this Way Comes

Masterlist

A/N: heyy sorry this took so long to get out, work is tiring and while i had the time i was too sleepy sorry. im gonna try to update at least once a week, but hopefully i can update more frequently. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter it is the LOOONGEST one yet!! very happy about that anyways thats it enjoy!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: brief mentions of abuse, cursing (if anything else lmk)

Snippet:

They finally got to the house. (F/N) put the car into park, took the keys out of the ignition, and just sat there.

Staring out the windshield.

No one dared to say anything.

She was reeling.

“So…” She spoke quietly, “All the crap that’s plagued Hawkins for the last few years… was because of some monsters with DnD names, from a world— underneath Hawkin; and the only way they could be defeated was by another 15 year old… who could move things… with her mind.”

“Pretty much.” Dustin said.

Turning to Robin, her best friend since middle school, “And you never thought to tell me all this?”

“I didn’t think it was important?” Her voice squeaked her statement like a question.

“You were kidnapped and interrogated by Russians and battled a dust cloud at the mall and you didn’t think it was important?” Robin winced.

“Look, none of that matters now.” Dustin tried to divert the conversation.

“I think it matters a little bit.” (F/N) breathed out.

She was 100% certain that she broke about several traffic laws in order to get to the video store as fast as she did.

She was even more certain when she pulled into the parking lot like a crazy person and ran out of her car at the speed of light.

Pushing open the door with such force everyone jumped at the shriek of the bell, “Where the hell is Eddie?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out!” Dustin, the first to snap out of his shock, answered her. Steve, Robin and the other assortment of children still stared at her like a crazy person.

“Tell us everything you know.”

Her brain started working as fast as it could, “We were supposed to meet for a tutoring session during lunch yesterday but he canceled because he said he had a deal with someone.”

“Did he say who?” Max Mayfield, one of Dustin’s friends, asked.

She shook her head, trying to piece any missing puzzle piece she could, “No! No he didn’t. He told me he would meet with me later that night but he never showed— and can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on!?” Her voice grew desperate, everything was happening too fast.

Steve nudged his head over to the tv that was hanging up, the news was on, “See for yourself.”

Looking at it, her stomach dropped.

“For those of you just tuning in, horror has struck Hawkins once again. High schooler and cheer captain Chrissy Cunningham has been found brutally murdered in the Hawkins Trailer Park. Hawkins PD has yet to comment on the situation and release information but it is said they have a list of potential suspects. We will keep you all updated but once again the information is being released at a slow and steady pace.”

All of a sudden she couldn’t breathe.

Murder?

No, there was no way. Eddie was capable of a lot of things but he would never hurt a fly, much less mutilate someone.

“I saw him with her.” Max spoke up.

“She looked nervous. After a few minutes, I heard screaming, and the lights flickering. And I saw him run to his van and drive away, like he was scared.

“Probably freaked out over what he did.” Steve chimed in.

“Dude.” Dustin nudged him, “Eddie didn’t kill Chrissy, and right now all we know is that he’s on the run and we don’t know where he is.” He turned his attention back to (F/N) who was still trying to process all of this information, “Do you have any idea where he might’ve gone?”

Sighing, “No I mean— I tutored him but we weren’t close I don’t—” And that’s when it hit her.

“What… what is it?” Dustin could sense the wheels turning.

Of course!

“Come with me, now.” She didn’t say another word, and rushed out of the store, Robin, Steve, Dustin and Max following in tow.

“Get in!” All of them began squishing into her car as she slammed the gas and began to go to the one place only she and Eddie knew about.

“Woah woah! Okay— can you please tell us where we’re going?!” Steve shouted as he was stuck between the two children, Robin calling shotgun.

“Reefer Ricks.” She said distantly, trying to get to where they needed to be as fast as she could.

“How do you know where that stoner lives?” Robin asked.

‘I don’t give my supply to just anyone… much less a freshman in highschool.” He spat.

“Look jackass, that school is crawling with deprived sheeple looking for some fun, and it’s not like you’d be giving me the heavy stuff right? So what’s the harm?”

He thought it over, “Fine. But it better not bite me in the ass. I got people, people powerful enough to end your little school girl life before it even begins, got it?”

He leaned in and stared her down menacingly, she didn’t dare speak and instead opted to nod, he finally backed off from her and gave her enough weed to deal to the entire school.

“Eddie took me there once for a study session, said he needed to restock.” She lied.

“You seem very eager to find Eddie.” Max noted.

“You sure you guys were only studying.” Dustin spoke suggestively.

“Dustin I swear to god if you make a comment like that again I will drop your ass out of this car and you can find Eddie on your own.”

“Woah— hey!” Dustin shouted.

“I’m sorry, how do you know him, and how do you know him well enough to be threatening a 15 year old like that?” Robin asked.

She scoffed, “Back in the day Dustin was one of the first kids I babysat, you were a cute kid, but you had a dirty mouth. And by the looks of it… you still do.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve mumbled, to which Dustin just elbowed him, starting an argument in the backseat.

“Look it doesn’t matter all right, what matters is that one of you is going to explain to me how the hell you’re so sure that Eddie didn’t really commit a felony and you’re gonna do it before we get to Ricks. So someone better start talking before I ram this car into a tree!” She shouted over them, stunning them all into silence, hoping that one of them could explain what the hell was going on.

Max was the first one to speak up.

————————————

“Eleven was able to defeat the Mind Flayer, but in the end… we couldn’t save everyone.” Max finished, her voice strained with emotion.

They finally got to the house. (F/N) put the car into park, took the keys out of the ignition, and just sat there.

Staring out the windshield.

No one dared to say anything.

She was reeling.

“So…” She spoke quietly, “All the crap that’s plagued Hawkins for the last few years… was because of some monsters with DnD names, from a world— underneath Hawkin; and the only way they could be defeated was by another 15 year old… who could move things… with her mind.”

“Pretty much.” Dustin said.

Turning to Robin, her best friend since middle school, “And you never thought to tell me all this?”

“I didn’t think it was important?” Her voice squeaked her statement like a question.

“You were kidnapped and interrogated by Russians and battled a dust cloud at the mall and you didn’t think it was important?” Robin winced.

“Look, none of that matters now.” Dustin tried to divert the conversation.

“I think it matters a little bit.” (F/N) breathed out.

“We have other problems to deal with so can we table this for another time?” Dustin asked impatiently.

She looked at him, noticing the distress in his eyes and decided to drop it.

They all got out of her car and began wandering around the house, searching for any sign of life.

“Are you sure Reefer Rick isn’t here?” Steve asked cautiously as he made his way around the house, looking through every window.

‘Don’t think I forgot our deal, bitch! You’re dead meat!” He yelled into the sky, she hid in the boathouse, waiting for the cops to take him away to prison.

“Yeah I’m sure.” Her voice sounded grave, but luckily no one noticed.

They walked around the surrounding woods for about ten minutes, each minute passing by they each felt the dread that Eddie wasn’t here.

“Eddie! Eddie!” Dustin cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted for his friend.

Slapping his arm Steve hissed, “Shh! Do you want us to get caught? If we’re found looking for a potential murder suspect imagine what the police will do to us.”

The rest of the team reconvened, Dustin ignored Steve and turned to (F/N) who was walking along with Robin, “Anything?”

“Nope. He’s nowhere to be found.” Robin answered for her.

“I thought you knew he’d be here!”

“I did!” She answered defensively, “But maybe…” Her eyes scanned the whole house and the rest of the forest when her eyes landed on something…

She hid in the boat house.

Without saying another word she began walking towards the one place the team hadn’t checked.

————————————

“Anything?” She asked as the group finally got inside the boat house.

They all started looking around, there was dust everywhere, like it hadn’t been used in a very long time, rust covered the rods holding up the boat.

“Nope. This is pointless.” Dustin sighed.

“Wait—” All heads turned to Max, who was looking at something on a desk

Food Wrappers.

“He was here.” She breathed, a sliver of hope landed in her chest.

“Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.” Robin added, as both her and Max eyed the crumbs of food that was left.

Crackling noise began to fill the room as Steve grabbed an oar and began prodding the tarp on the boat.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked exasperated.

“What? He might be hiding in here.” Steve said as if it made perfect sense.

“Oh don’t worry everyone, if Eddie pops out he can protect us with this oar.” Sarcasm dripped in Dustin’s voice as he looked at the rest of the group.

Christ, this kid hasn’t changed.

“Ha ha very funny. But considering almost everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the—”

Before he could finish, a figure jumped through and attacked Steve, pinning him to the wall of the room holding a broken beer bottle against his throat.

“Woah woah, wait wait!” Steve pleaded not wanting to risk fighting back.

Eddie

He looked mostly alright, a little disheveled but physically he looked fine, however his eyes told a different story.

Despite the hold he had on Steve his hands were shaking and his once soft eyes were hardened with fear and confusion.

It broke her heart.

“Eddie! Eddie! It’s me. It’s Dustin.” Dustin shouted, Eddie’s head turned sharply causing (F/N) to wince, the fear in his and Steve’s eyes made her heart race in fear, she instinctively put her hands out, as if that would help. 

“This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you right, Steve?”

Steve tried nodding, and weakly agreed, but Eddie would not move the broken bottle.

“Steve.” She slowly walked closer, now lining up with Dustin, her voice deadly calm. “Drop the oar.”

Steve glanced at her like she was crazy, but she only repeated herself, “Steve. Drop. The. Oar.”

He finally listened, the sound of it falling causing her to flinch.

But he still gripped onto Steve, unsure if he should trust their word.

“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asked, his voice cracking.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin jumped back in, “We’re here to help. We believe you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, “And you?” His attention shifted to (F/N), “You here to help too, or are you gonna send my ass to the police station.”

Steve groaned as the beer bottle came dangerously close to his neck.

“Easy.” Dustin lightly nudged her.

“Look Eddie, you’re a lot of things: you’re stubborn, sometimes a bit irritating, you like to invade my personal space, and sometimes you do this weird thing—”

“Is this really helping?!” Panic rose in Steve’s voice gritting his teeth.

“Right sorry,” She apologized, never having been in a hostage situation. She really was grasping at straws trying to help Steve, “but you’re also kind, and caring. And— and all you wanna do is make people smile,” His grip on Steve loosened.

“So yeah, I believe you. Whatever it is that happened, I believe you.” She slowly walked closer to him, staring him in the eyes, making sure he understood that she meant every word.

“But you’re gonna have to let Steve go if you want our help to prove your innocence. You’re already accused of one murder, you don’t want the next one to be actually on you.” She tried for a weak laugh but it died in her throat.

There was a slight pause, the fear and panic behind Eddie’s eyes seemed to grow smaller, fighting with himself whether or not to believe her.

The tension was palpable, but in the end, he let Steve go. As soon as his grip loosened on his Steve bolted to the other side of the room, a collective exhale discharged the tense situation.

Quickly checking on Steve to make sure he was okay, she glanced back at Eddie. The fear and panic was now replaced with something worse, he slid down on the wall, eyes unmoving.

Dustin tried reaching for him to let go of the bottle, but his grip tightened.

“Eddie.” His voice at a whisper, “We just wanna talk.”

He shook his head, his eyes glassy, brimming with tears, “You’re never gonna believe me.”

“Try us.” Max said, catching Eddie off guard.

He looked at her, then (F/N), pursing her lips she slightly nodded.

————————————

As Eddie told everyone what happened she couldn’t help but be mortified at what Eddie had seen.

“Her… her bones just started—” He winced, shutting his eyes, no doubt reliving whatever it is he saw.

“They started to crack, and— and her eyes, it was like they were being pulled through from inside her.” He stuttered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“And I didn’t know what to do so… so I just ran.” His raspy voice sounded desperate and was hit with the realization… that he left her.

Eddie Munson was a lot of things. He had an active imagination, stubborn, snarky, and loved to push peoples buttons… but he was no murderer.

The things he described… The things that happened to Chrissy were too terrible for anyone, especially Eddie to do. He was innocent.

He glanced at everyone, holding his breath, waiting for someone to start calling him crazy and a killer.

“You all think I’m crazy don’t you?”

“We believe you.” Dustin was the first to speak.

“Don’t bullshit me man!” Eddie screamed in frustration, “I know what it sounds like.”

Dustin sighed, he looked at the rest of the group, mentally battling with himself if he should reveal to Eddie what they have been through.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… ‘cursed’? Well they’re not, totally, wrong.” Dustin began explaining to him what had happened over the course of the last few years. The Demogoron, the Mind Flayer, and now he guessed: a new opponent.

“Did you see any particles or clouds of dust?”

“Nah man, it was nothing you could see or touch! She couldn’t move. I tried to wake her up but it was like she was in a trance.”

“A trance…” (F/N) could see the gears turning in Dustin’s head, “Or a spell.”

This caught Eddie’s attention, finally looking up at him he understood what he meant.

“A curse.”

“Vecna’s curse.” Dustin and Eddie shared a grave and knowing look, looking back at the once wonderful memory of a great campaign, now coming back as a terrible form of foreshadowing in their lives.

“An undead creature with great power. A spell caster.” Eddie sat up, letting the words sink in.

“A dark wizard.” Dustin added, the rest of the group glanced around each other with confusion in their eyes.

Max breathed, trying to summarize what their plan should be, “So, to prove Eddie’s innocence, the only thing we have to do is find this creature—”

“Vecna.” Dustin cleared up.

“And kill it.” She glared at him.

“Oh, the only thing.” (F/N) added.

“But all the gates are closed, if it’s really this creature— Vecna— how did he manage to get through to our world.” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but he did.” Dustin shook his head, “But if he was able to get in—”

“Then there has to be a way to find him as well.” Robin finished the thought.

“And you—” Eddie turned to (F/N), “you believe all of this?”

Suddenly all eyes were on her, she felt her skin crawl; Dustin, who looked at her with pleading eyes, and Steve, Robin, and Max, all holding their breaths, waiting for her to deny what they said and call them crazy.

Eddie needed her word of confirmation, she didn’t know why, but if he got it, maybe it would make all the difference.

She licked her lips nervously and chose her next words carefully, “Too many crazy things have happened in Hawkins these last few years that the government just explained away, almost too easily. It’s hard not to wonder if there was something more to it. So… yeah I believe them. If they’ve gone against stuff like this three times before, odds are they aren’t crazy.” She let out a weak chuckle, wringing her wrists, “And plus, I had about a 5 minute head start to knowing all of this before you, so yeah, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

He nodded slowly, “Alright… So what do we do next?” 

“We do what we always do.” Dustin nodded confidently, “We research, we plan, and we attack.” Everyone nodded.

Their plan was simple: find Nancy and try to figure out where and how Vecna got into Hawkins without any gates they know about. Everyone had a job, but (F/N) wasn’t too sure about going with them.

“I’ll stay here with Eddie.” She said without a second thought.

“What?” Steve, Dustin, and Eddie all said in unison.

“Look,” She turned to Dustin and Steve, “you guys have more experience with this ‘monster hunting’ deal than me. If I come with you then I’ll just slow you guys down. At least if I’m here I can make sure Eddie doesn’t get hurt.”

“What is it, princess, you don’t trust I can take care of myself?” Looks like he was back in a joking mood.

Rolling her eyes she turned to him, “No, I don’t trust the people in this town. They’re not stupid, most will put two and two together and assume you are the one who murdered Chrissy, and when they come for your head, they won’t come empty handed.”

“And you have experience dealing with angry mobs?” Steve asked sarcastically.

‘You did this.’ He seethed, squeezing her neck. ‘You’re gonna pay for ratting me out.’

Even with the lack of air, she was still able to get one final word in, “Eat shit.”

Well, maybe two.

She used all of her strength and kicked him where it hurt, as he doubled over his grip loosened on her and she wasted no time pushing him off her and punching him in the nose.

She ran as far as she could.

“More like assholes with a bone to pick,” She shrugged and made her way to the boat,” and like Dustin said; I’ll just use one of your moves and beat their ass with an oar. What could go wrong?”

“Famous last words.” Robin mumbled.

Shooting a glare her way she turned back to Steve, “Look I can handle myself ok? You guys go do what you’re good at, I’ll be here on the RT unit if needed.”

Steve still looking unconvinced he turned to Dustin, who merely shrugged,

“Two heads are better than one.” She gave him a small smile.

Sighing, Steve threw his hands up in the air, “Fine! But we’ll be back.”

“With food!—” Eddie added, throwing his arm lazily around her shoulder, “Running from the law gets you hungry.”

“Sure food, whatever, play it safe.” He turned to her, still looking unsure he sighed, and finally walked away with the rest of the group, waiting for the hunt to begin.

“Steve seems to give a big shit about you.” 

She looked at Eddie, it had been only a few minutes since the rest of the group left, they both had just sat down on opposite sides of the room, her eyes frozen looking out the window her friends had left, reeling after everything.

“Steve’s my friend.” She clarified.

“Never said he wasn’t.” He still hadn’t looked up, fiddling around with his rings.

She just shook her head, not even bothering to respond.

“So—”

Oh dear god

“Now that it’s just us, tell me:  do you honestly believe I didn’t do it.”

She looked away from the window, finding him looking at her, his eyes desperately trying to pull a response from her.

She turned her whole body to him, “The things you described. What happened to Chrissy. It’s not something a person could… do. Much less you.”

She paused, watching his reaction, his face as unmoving.

“So yeah, I believe you. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks but, I think that’s enough time to know whether or not someone’s a murder.”

He smiled at that, it was a small one, barely reached his eyes, but knowing she was able to make him feel better made her chest feel warm.

But just as quickly as it came, it disappeared.

“Why’d you stay.” He asked quietly

She looked back at him, his posture changed, there was a hard look in his eyes.

“I told you why.” She said, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Yeah but like you said, you’ve only known me for a few weeks.” He scoffed, “You’d probably feel more comfortable with your ‘best friend’ Steve.”

She turned her entire body away from the window, now aggravated, “What is it with you and Steve? I told you, they know what they’re doing, they don’t need me getting in the way.”

“So what? Are you just doing this for sympathy?” He stood up and leaned against the wall.

“No what— where is this coming from?” She thought back on the conversation, wondering where it all went wrong.

“Whatever.” He muttered and began walking away.

“No.” She got up as well and made her way towards him, “Don’t walk away, what do you have against Steve?”

“C’mon,” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, scoffing at her question as if it was so obvious as to why he had something against Steve.

“You can’t act like he wasn’t a douche-bag in high school, what, all of a sudden he’s cool? Yeah I don’t think so.”

She rolled her eyes, “Steve’s changed, he ditched Tommy and became a better person.”

“Look whatever, I don’t need you here alright?” He spat, “You can go back to your friends and I’ll be fine on my own.”

Again, he began walking away, but she wasn’t having it.

Grabbing his arm she turned him around to face her, “I don’t know what your problem is Munson but I’m here to help. I don’t know why all of a sudden you’re acting weird about Steve but he just wants to help, he’s my friend and that’s that. Got it?” She looked at him dead in the eyes.

She clenched her jaw, all of a sudden extremely aware of how close he was to her.

He seemed to notice too and took a step back, “Whatever.” He turned around and left the boat house, making his way to the main house.

Groaning, she covered her face.

How did it go so wrong so fast?

All of a sudden, it got quiet, too quiet.

“Don’t think I forgot about our deal, you’re dead meat bitch.” A voice, one she hadn’t heard in a long time whispered in her ear.

As if he were right behind her.

She whipped her head up and turned around so fast she lost her footing and backed up into the wall. Breathing heavily her eyes scanned over the whole room, but there was no one else in sight.

He’s gone.

He’s in jail.

You’re okay.

She took a deep breath, calming her nerves. She started to head out of the boat house, starting to come up with an apology for Eddie.

But she was too lost in what she wanted to say to notice a subtle sound echoing in the distance.

Tick

Tock 

Tick

Tock…

taglist: @hopebaker, @efvyqrs (wanna be added? send an ask or message!)

[madaboutmunson]

The Eddie Munson Tape Dates - Dio - Holy Diver

Warnings: Drug use, lasers, swearing, kisses

You rip another piece of paper from your notebook, screw it up and throw it in the waste paper basket next to your desk.

Eddie looks up at you from his side of the dual desk set-up in your room, "You need some help, babe? Is it the poetry assignment?"

You nod and start tapping the end of your pencil against your forehead again, glaring at the fresh blank piece of lined paper.

You peer over on Eddie's side of the desk. He has at least four different poems written out. He covers them over with his arm and shoos you away. You sigh and fall back in your chair, slumping down in it.

Why was it so difficult? You just needed to write a poem. It wasn't even a specific theme. It could be anything, any style. So, you think to yourself, that is probably part of the problem. The assignment was too vague.

Eddie is still scribbling away opposite you. You peer over again, "Is that number five?" You say jealously.

"You know, you can have one of mine if you like?" He raises his eyebrows at you from under his curls, his mouth turning up into a smile because he already knows your answer. After all, it's always the same when it comes to homework.

"I can't do that, Eddie. I'll know it's not my work, and so will they!" You complain as you throw your notepad and pencil into the bin.

"It can't be that bad, babe. We listen to music all the time. It's just like lyrics, you know. A story that rhymes." Eddie reaches into the bin retrieving your notepad, pencil and one of the screwed-up pieces of paper.

He unravels the paper ball to read its contents. It has a list of scribbled-out words, most describing things around you in your room. Book. Pen. Window. Paper. Finally, Eddie's name in tiny bubble lettering, with a heart dotting the 'i'.

You look at him, hopefully.

"Well", he starts, "It looks to me like you've hit a wall. Your inspiration is lost. Maybe you could write something about me? You always write me such nice things in those origami dragons, babe." He encourages

"Are you actually losing your mind? You want me to write something about you, for school?? No, babe. That's... well... it's private." As quickly as you reject his answer, you start contemplating it just so you might have something written. It's not like you didn't have a notebook half full of it already, anyway. You wait a few seconds before pretending to look for something, when really you were checking that the Eddie notebook was still in the secret drawer compartment, along with its other personal things and Eddie memorabilia.

"Maybe do a bit of other work and come back to it", Eddie suggests kindly with an encouraging smile as you snap the drawer shut.

You resist the unconstructive urge to let him know you've already done that...three times already...you just nod and start searching the room and out the window for inspiration, which is currently manifesting as a very bland list of nouns on your paper, until Eddie finishes his own homework.

It was tough to harbour any resentment towards him when he was doing so well. Your own parents and Wayne had obviously observed that you and Eddie were virtually inseparable but had set one rule. They would not intervene or complain about who stayed where or how much time you spent together, as long as grades didn't slip. What they hadn't anticipated was grades actually improving.

Eddie often attributed his scholarly improvements to this rule and your encouragement. Maybe in the beginning, yes, but now? This was all Eddie. He was, as you had suspected all along, extremely bright. He was pushing to the top of his class subjects in which he was just getting by. The ones he was failing, he was averaging. The praise from these successes only fueled Eddie's motivation. He was well on his way to graduating, and it was all his own hard work.

You hid a smile of pride as you looked at him again. A glance that turned to a stare because this was another favourite Eddie of yours. Eddie in the creative zone.

Whether it was him noodling on his guitar, creating encounters for the Hellfire club's next session, drawing out the set for the latest school production, or simply his homework, they all brought this Eddie out.

His widened eyes focused on the paper, his arm moving quickly from one side of the pad to the other, the frantic scratching of a pencil or pen, one spare sitting behind his ear, poking out through his curls. The frantic writing caused his mane of hair to sway gently as he worked. One side of his mouth slightly curled upwards to indicate his pleasure in being on a roll. Particularly intense moments of focus could be detected when the tip of his tongue would appear and press down hard on his top lip for a while.

A soft rasp emerges from the animated portrait, "I sure hope you are staring at me for inspiration, sweetheart." You see the smile on his face widen, but he doesn't look up and continues to work for a few seconds more before punctuating his work with a forceful full stop and slamming his pencil down.

"Aaaaand done," he says, leaning backwards on the back two legs of the chair, stretching his arms up behind his head, his t-shirt riding up a little as he does.

"Perv!" He laughs, pursing his lips at you in mock annoyance.

"Come on, let's see what you've got on that pad", he beckons you over to his lap, and honestly, it's a welcome distraction from this pit of incompetence.

He reads over the pad, "Ok, well, you've listed a lot of objects here, babe" he sighs, "Whilst I appreciate the "So pretty" comment written here, it's not really helping you link lamp and compass together, is it now?" He looks up at you. You can tell he is flattered. He's never quite got over being called pretty or beautiful. He could deal with hot, smokin', gorgeous, handsome, but some of the more delicate adjectives just made him crumble.

And he did. Crumble, that is. When you sat down, he'd tried to be helpful tutor Eddie, encouraging and finding you little inlets back into the task, but that complement, had sucker punched teacher Eddie right out of the window.

He throws the pad onto the desk, his arm tightens around you, and he looks up at you adoringly, then slightly squints his eyes a little, and he says softly, "You know what you need...you need to open. Your. mind." With each of those last three words, he gently taps his finger on the tip of your nose, "Let that inspiration flood in, babe."

Eddie reaches into his vest pocket, hanging on the back of his chair, pulling out two tapes and fanning them in his hands at you.

Your eyes flit between the two, "It's gotta be Dio. We had Sabbath last time", you say, tapping the case gently.

"Your wish is my command, My Lady," he says tenderly, lifting his chin up towards you, trying and succeeding to capture your gaze with his own.

The quality control department between your brain and mouth goes out to lunch, leaving no one at the controls, "I've missed you this week, Eddie. Like, so very, very much", you say, gently stroking his hair and side of his face, until your hand is in range. Then, without breaking eye contact, he kisses your palm.

"And I you, my sweet. It's only one more week. I promise. Besides, I'm here right now, aren't I?" He says, wrapping his other arm around you also.

You nod and link your arms behind his neck, "You sure are, live and in the flesh, not just the other end of a telephone line" you smile at him and kiss him gently, "I love you, Eddie Munson."

He smiles at you, "I know", he says, as his smile transforms into a roguish smirk.

"Eddie, you know I don't like that," you whine at him and then suddenly look to the window shaking your fist, and shout ", Fuckin' star wars!"

He gives you a dramatic performance of shock and incredilousness, " You're just gonna condemn a whole trilogy, like that? "

"Yeah, yeah, I am!" You say defiantly, furrowing your brow sweetly.

He rolls his eyes at you, "Fine!!" Then, he moves his hands from around your waist and grabs your face, repeatedly planting kisses on it, followed by an "I love you", each in a different accent or tone.

It is only when a particular 'I love you' comes in a questioning tone, do you decide it's enough, "Alright, that'll do it", you announce, getting up from his lap.

He stands up with you, "I just need to make a quick call, and then we'll get going, ok?" He looks you over, "Make sure you are wearing something comfortable, alright...dress for variable temperatures."

After selecting Jeans, a cami and a sweater, you head downstairs to an interesting sight.

Eddie is rolling at the table, your Dad is at the stereo dancing to Steppenwolf, and your Mom has her coat on and keys in her hand.

Eddie walks over to your Dad and puts a joint behind his ear, "Take it easy with that, Pops", he says, laughing and joins in with a bit of a dance.

" 'ow do lass," your Dad says in his thick Yorkshire accent as he spots you looking very confused.

"Greetings, weirdos. Can anyone direct me back to the reality I was just in, please?" Then, you say, confused, "Has everyone decided to swap roles...or.....?"

"Sunbeam was saying about your creativity being blocked, darling, and when he said where you were going, I just mentioned that it can be more fun with a bit of...er...herbal assistance. Like when your Dad and I used to go. Of course, then, it wasn't all fancy like it is now. It was just art films," your Mom says before quickly hurrying into the kitchen and throwing some juice boxes and candy bars into a fabric cross-body bag before walking over to you and draping the strap around you.

"What? The-" you start before Eddie walks over and links his arm in yours.

"We're ready, Mama. Thanks so much for playing Taxi," he says gratefully to your Mom.

"No trouble at all; it was very responsible of you to ask, dear," your Mom says, getting in the driver's seat whilst you and Eddie pile in the back.

"So where exactly are we going?" You nudge Eddie excitedly.

"We are going to open your mind, babe," he says, buckling in himself, then you and draping his arm around you.

Your Mom looks back at Eddie in the rearview mirror as you set off. "Let's not overindulge, though, shall we? This is a trust exercise too. Is that clear?" She eyes both of you seriously.

You both nod solemnly in response to the unusually stern tone from your Mom.

"I do not want Wayne thinking us irresponsible. We're proving fun can be had within safety parameters, right?" She looks back at you both again, "I'll have enough to deal with your father later", she laughs.

The road winds round and round, and looking out of the window, Hawkins gets smaller and smaller. This route seems familiar to you, and you think about it for a few minutes, "The planetarium!!" You shout out, making everyone else in the car jump.

"Je-sus!" Eddie exclaims, clutching his chest, "Yes, fuck, the planetarium. Geez"

You let out a squeal of excitement. Your Mom smiles at you in the rearview mirror.

"Wait, what does the planetarium do with art films?"

You ask enthusiastically.

"Moonbeam, you're almost there. Don't you want a nice surprise?" You Mom says gently, in an attempt to calm you down.

"I guess," you say in an almost disgusted tone. Making Eddie and your Mom laugh at your inability to not try and solve the mystery before you get there.

You pull up round the back of the domed building with the night sky as a blanket twinkling around it.

Eddie grabs his lunchbox and knocks a rhythmic pattern on the door. You recognise it but can't quite place it.

The door opens, and you see a clean-cut-looking guy with a short cropped hairstyle, clean-shaven, wearing a pale button-down and blue jeans, "Eddie, my man!" He says, instigating a choreographed handshake with Eddie, then looks over at you.

"Oh...Eddie," the man says, his eyes welling up a little as he looks between the two of you, "I just knew it...I really did...I knew it when you were out on the ice."

"Wait! Bob??!! Is that you?" You say absolutely astounded. This guy hardly looked anything like Bob from the arena. Your eyes scan him over quickly, and looking at his kind, smiling, tear-filled eyes, the two of them merge in your mind, "Wow, you look so...so..." You start searching for the right words.

"Different?" Bob offers, and you nod.

"Well, you know that night after the ice performance...which I didn't get a chance to tell you, was beautifully timed to the music, by the way...I thought to myself, I want that for me. How can Bob make that happen?" Bob grabs Eddie by the shoulder, pulling him over to him in a side embrace, "This guy let me talk his ear off a bunch of times during deliveries, and you know I...well, I met someone...I say met...I've seen her around...she's so beautiful...I doubt she remembers me from school, but who knows, right? So I made some changes, but none that change who I am as a person, just a few that might make someone like her look my way, maybe."

You smile broadly at Bob, "I'm sure it's gonna happen for you, Bob. Someone with as much love to give as you, she'd be a fool not to really."

Bob grins, "You know I recall saying something not too dissimilar to someone a couple of months back. Thank you for your good wishes. I'll keep you in the loop" he winks and points a finger gun at you, "Anyway...shall we?" Bob steps back and gestures for you and Eddie to enter. Eddie passes a significantly smaller bag to Bob than the last time you saw this interaction.

You turn back and wave goodbye to your Mom as you head inside. Bob gives you a little tour, pointing out the smoking room, the toilets, and the snack machines before you all finally arrive in the main room.

"I've reserved you some seats over there." He waves to a set of seats near the centre of the room next to the aisle. The reservation markers are two big pink paper love hearts. You smile as Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, saying, "Thank you, Bob. I'm sure we could have found them easily enough with a letter and number and the fact no one else is here."

Bob looks Eddie dead in the eyes, "Oh, I know you could have. I just like making it special, you know?" Bob smiles back, and it's apparent that Bob actually enjoys winding up Eddie in the sweetest ways possible, though.

"So do you wanna take it for a spin, see how you feel and then go for a smoke? Or smoke first and get your minds blown by carefully coded and intricately woven laser beams?" Bob claps his hands together excitedly.

"Well, it's up to you, babe. I'm happy either way," Eddie says, holding your hand.

"Because I don't know what is going to happen, I'd like a test run first, please, Bob," you say, the excitement building in your stomach.

"Alrighty lovely, I'll get right on it," Bob says, disappearing behind a curtained off desk.

Eddie escorts you to your seat as the lights go down, and as he tries to sit down immediately jumps out of his seat and grabs at something wedged in it. Eddie, freshly awash with dread, shuts his eyes, gingerly grabs for it, and reopens one of his eyes a little.

He pulls an unamused face, holding the object aloft, shouting at Bob, "Really?". Eddie drops into his seat with a playful thud, examining the obstruction. It's a plushy of Saturn holding a tag saying, "You're out of this World!"

He smiles at it and hands it over to you, "I believe this was planted for you, on my behalf", he says happily.

"Thank you, Bob!!" You shout over to him. You see a thumbs-up poke out from the side of the curtain.

The lights go down again, and you hear a faint hum. You look over at Eddie; he is already leaning his head back, looking at the ceiling. You feel slightly confused, but copy him and cling to the little planet in your lap.

The first note of 'For What It's Worth' by Buffalo Springfield rings out, and as it does, a flash of yellow light appears above you like a singular expanding star. On the next string pluck, another, and this repeats, but they move around the ceiling, appearing in different spaces.

Then a hexagon appears on the screen but then seems to spin around in the air. Its vibrant colours and smooth movement make you feel like you could reach out and touch it.

"Whoa" is all you can quietly muster.

You feel Eddie move closer to you. You turn your eyes towards him for a moment and realise he's watching both the ceiling and your reactions intermittently.

Bob creates more shapes, textures, and motion as the song progresses using the lasers. Things that looked like nebula or sound waves moving around the ceiling in the darkness.

"Oh, Rainbow in the Dark", you whisper, not taking your eyes away from the light show.

"That's the one, babe", Eddie whispers back.

As the song comes to a close, the images become more layered. It's a feast for the eyes.

The lights come up a little but are not fully on. Bob pokes his head out from the curtain, "Well? What do you think."

You stand up from your seat, giving an enthusiastic round of applause, "How did you do that? Is it like a movie"

"Hmm, not really," Bob says, waving you over.

You rush over to see behind the scenes and find Bob at a desk, just a mass of dials and buttons.

"Holy shit", you exclaim, "what is all this?"

"These are all the things that control the laser, its direction, what it passes through, filters, mirrors, and knowing how those all work together, you can make shapes and movement", Bob explains it like it's the simplest thing on the planet.

"Wow, so it's not like a slide projector, then?" You venture

"Oh no, I'm creating this stuff in real-time. Wanna take it for a spin?" You look over the massive amount of controls and feel well and truly daunted.

"You know, something's are just better left to the professionals", you smile back at him.

"Besides, " Eddie adds, "We aren't just on a date tonight, Sir Bob. We're on a mission. One of creativity and inspiration. Not one where you hire a new laserist" Eddie raises a bag of pre-rolls, shakes it and sticks his tongue out.

Bob chuckles, "But of course, to the smoking room, tout suite!"

As you enter, the big fluorescent overhead lights of the room are almost unbearable after sitting in the dim lights for so long. Bob busies himself, switching on many Lava lamps of all different shapes and sizes dotted around the room. You notice how cosy it is: giant soft pillows, bean bags, crocheted cushion covers, and big blankets.

"Do you bring people back here often, Bob?" You say, looking around at the stack of books on the coffee table.

"Oh no," he laughs, "This room just gets me in the right mindset, you know?". You nod.

Eddie has already made himself at home, lighting up and reclining in a bean bag that looks like it's almost trying to swallow him whole because of how he threw himself into it.

You spend the next 45 minutes or so hanging out and smoking with Bob and Eddie.

Bob is asking you questions about how you met and what the other tape dates were like.

In exchange, Bob explains how Rick used to deliver to him, but then Eddie took over.

"Well, you see, Bob", a slightly heavy-lidded Eddie starts, "Rick appreciated your custom, but every time he showed up, you were crying, and he, like, couldn't deal with it. So when he sent me, I just, like, you know, I asked why he was upset, and we got to talking, just like hit it off."

Bob smiles gently over at Eddie, "Indeed, and I'm so glad that happened because otherwise, I wouldn't be where I am now, you know? You ever think about that how one small change in your past could have blown you off course completely?!!" Bob expresses curiously.

" Yeah, like if my hair had behaved, I might not have met Y/N", Eddie giggles grabbing one of his curls, "Thanks, hair!"

"Yeah, but it goes even further back than that...if I hadn't eaten a spinach puff, I wouldn't have been looking in the mirror," You say, running your tongue over your teeth.

"And if those two people hadn't fallen in love, neither of you would have been at the wedding," Bob adds.

"It makes you think about how much of anything is actually in our control, you know?" Eddie says profoundly, "like, are we just G.I. Joe's for the gods

"G.I. Joe's??" Bob sounds offended, "Not me. I'm a superman for sure. What about you?"

They both look at you, waiting patiently, "A strawberry shortcake doll? "

Bob nods, "Yeah, that absolutely makes sense. I could see that"

Eddie laughs so hard that no sound comes from his mouth, "A strawberry shortcake doll? Why?" He eventually manages to ask.

"Why not? I'd always smell fantastic, and I'd have a companion. What's not to want?" You say with a scoff.

Eddie fights his way out of the bean bag to get over to you, "You already have those things, babe."

"Oh yeah, well, you know what, bad guys would see Superman and G.I. Joe coming from miles away. They'd never suspect Strawberry Shortcake and my little stealth cat Custard, never."

Eddie sits himself on your lap and rubs the tip of his nose side to side against your own, "So very, very true." He pulls away slightly, examining your face, "You know Bob, I think we're ready for round two."

You all make your way back into the main room. Bob returns to his desk, and you and Eddie go back to your seats. You happily watch different displays for different songs, amazed at each one, the slow, soft, heavy sensations moving over your person, how your head swims into the universe of lights above you.

It suddenly feels like it isn't enough, as if your seat prevented you from the entire experience or something. You get up from it and go sit in the aisle. You take off your sweater as a makeshift pillow and lie back on the floor.

Your eyes and neck are no longer straining to see, and the music reverberations pulse through the floor and right through you. You outstretch your hand towards the ceiling and, for a moment, feel like an intrinsic part between the music and the lights, but something isn't quite right.

"Oh shit! There you are. I thought you felt I'll or something, babe. He immediately takes off his vest and jacket. His jacket behind his own head, his vest he props behind you as if your sweater couldn't possibly be doing a good enough job.

The sensation of his skin next to yours and the scents that waft around you as your head hits the jacket make you smile. That's all that was missing. Just Eddie.

You slink your hand into his and continue to watch the show together. Occasional moments of complete awe, some uncontrollable giggles, and some of the softest, gentlest touches you've ever exchanged.

This was perfect. He was perfect. What exactly were you waiting for?

You glance over at him and then quickly back at the ceiling,

"Eddie?" You say, elongating the end 'e' of his name.

"Mmm hmm," he hums, still watching the action on the ceiling.

"I wanted to ask you something," you say, wiggling over to him a bit more and squeezing his hand a little.

"Ok," he says neutrally, eyes dancing around the dome of the false night sky above you as the light my fire comes to an end.

"Well, I was wondering...." You begin before you are interrupted by him tapping your arm.

"Is this question urgent because if not, the ceiling requires your attention, babe?" he says, pointing upwards.

"No...no...it's not urgent," you say quietly and give your full attention to the ceiling.

"Look, look," he says in a quietened excitement as a new song starts.

On one side of the ceiling is a light blue star-type shape, and on the right, another but a sunset orange colour.

You watch as the stars move around through different forms, and though sharing the same space, they never collide.

A golden rectangle appears, the blue star on its left side and the yellow on its right.

The stars finally collide and circle around one another like wisps. Their spiral goes around and around and increases speed until it explodes into a flower.

The stars return, tiny at first, closer together this time, but they grow from stars to circles. From circles to a crescent moon and a blazing sun.

They move towards one another again, this time overlapping until the moon fits snuggly in the sun. New circular waves ripple out from them and pulse out into the darkness around them.

You smile and tilt your head slightly onto Eddie's shoulder before the pictures in front of you disappear, and the lights go back up to dimmed once again.

Eddie turns on his side to you, "So, did you like that one too?" He asks softly.

You also turn on your side to him and bump noses because you misjudge the space between you, causing a little ripple of giggles.

"Yes, I very much did. That was so nice of Bob to put that together. That lady sure is in for a treat with Romance Bob on the case." You say, gesturing at the curtain.

Eddie gives you a big dimpled smile and taps you on the tip of your nose a few times, "See, that's where you are wrong", he adds in a sing-song voice, "Bob made it happen, sure, but he didn't choreograph that piece. I did. I wrote it. So in a way, you're the lucky lady."

"Well, I already knew that. You know, if I told someone at school about all these things, they'd never believe me. Never believe that the Satanic Cult Leader is more like a Big Softie Cult Leader" You grab for the little Saturn Plushie and give it to him. "You know what, Eddie, *You're* out of the world, out of this galaxy, out of this universe."

"Well, you both need to be out of this planetarium because I think your mom is parked outside, " Bob interrupts.

You grab your things quickly and give Bob a hug of thanks, "Truly amazing stuff, Bob, hope that woman is the one", you say as you both rush out of the building into the parking lot.

"Good night", you yell back at Bob as you both get into the back seat.

"Hey Mama, sorry about that hope you weren't waiting long." You offer as you get buckled in, Eddie gently squeezing the plush of Saturn in his hands, smiling happily out of the window.

"Not all moonbeam. Did you have a good time?" She asks. Her expression, which you can see in the mirror, clearly already knows the answer.

"Oh, yeah. It was so good. You'd love it. You and Dad should go. It's just so beautiful." You enthuse at her, your hands animated.

"Your Father is currently sleeping like a baby, so I don't think I'll be able to ask him when we get back, but I'll make a note of it. You sound excited enough about it all. Do you feel inspired, though?" She says, smiling happily.

"Yeah, do you think you've got a poem in you now?" Eddie asks, holding your hand and brushing his thumb along the side of it.

"I think this might be an evening that launched a thousand poems. I've already written part of one, but it's all up here," you say, tapping the side of your head.

"What's it about?" He asks, mildly impressed.

"Erm...I guess... everything?" You say, grinning lovingly at him.

"How are you gonna write a poem about everything?" He laughs his adorable dorky laugh.

"You'll see, My love. You'll see," you say, gently kissing him.

Laser show example if you wanna join in :) obviously big warning for flashing lights!!!!

[rosewoodshortstories]

Jason Carver: An 80′s Homosexual

Head-canon that Jason Carver is actually a repressed gay man, who raised in a very strict, christian, wealthy, ‘perfect’ family, had absolutely no chance in acceptance of his homosexuality, by himself or those close to him. And so just like the rest of us, when met with outspoken, unapologetically himself, Eddie Munson finds himself attracted to the boy, quickly becoming frustrated with both his own thoughts and how Eddie can be himself and proud while Jason locks himself even deeper in the closet. Not only do we see Jason almost always picking on Eddie in particular, ignoring the rest of the ‘freaks’ of hellfire for the most part, we also see an odd almost out of character moment for him in the cafeteria scene when both him and Eddie, plus their dynamic,  are first introduced. 

After Eddie’s big speech Jason calls out to him calling him a freak and asking if he wants something, causing Eddie to Stick his fingers to the top of his head in mock devil horns and tongue out flicking around, some would say almost seductively. And no, Jason doesn’t immediately snap back with a comment or degrading name, he stops and stares at Eddie, not even mad at the fact, or maybe not noticing, that the rest of hellfire is staring at him amused and laughing at him. No, this boy stares at Eddie, presumably not breaking eye contact until finally Eddie lowers his hands, puts his tongue in his mouth and gives him a playful impish smile. Jason, I swear to you, if you slow down the video has a very noticeable blush, and quickly averts his eyes turning his head away and his posture just slightly falters, making himself a little smaller, If that makes sense. He mutters out a very quiet ‘prick’, which is seen throughout the show to not be like him, usually almost as outspoken as Eddie, especially in-front of his gremlins of basketball followers, bar Lucas of course (who I still love even though he joined the ‘dark side’ as Eddie put it.) Anyway, it is in my opinion as an avid fan that Jason would usually stand his ground longer in a confrontation such as this, yet basically retreats with his tail between his legs once Eddie’s undivided attention shifted to only him, whether it be to make fun of him or not. (Picture evidence on the bottom of post). On top of this, his relationship with Chrissy can be seen as a huge indicator of his sexual repression. For one, out of all the girls he could of chosen he, of course, went for the the ‘queen’ of Hawkins high, head cheerleader, and probably prom queen at some point. The ‘perfect’ girl and the ‘perfect’ relationship. Except, as we well know, it's not. When Eddie meets Chrissy in the woods, it is quite obvious to both him and the viewers that she is not okay, and quite frankly in terrible distress, enough so to seek out her boyfriends sworn enemy to buy drugs. While, we only really see Chrissy and Jason’s dynamic in the prep-rally scene, very very briefly, it can be noted that he just doesn’t take notice to her pain. Even-though they’re apparently in a ‘happy’  and ‘healthy’ high school relationship. This can be viewed as a man refusing to acknowledge his sexuality trying to prove not only to himself but those around him that he is ‘perfect’, ‘the best’, ‘a man’,and so he ‘deserves’ and is expected to have ‘the best’, the ‘perfect’ girl, i.e. Chrissy Cunningham. Either not being invested enough in the relationship to notice her pain, or simply ignoring it to keep up an appearance of perfection. Once Chrissy is found unfortunately dead at Eddie’s trailer it is like a huge slap to the face, on top of a knife to the heart, as while I do believe he never really loved Chrissy romantically, still cared for her in his own Jason Carver way. Not only was his ‘perfect’ girl taken from him, not being able to protect her further hurting his ego, but was suspected to be killed by none other than Eddie ‘the unfortunately for Jason, Attractive’ Munson, the boy who caused so much of his frustration to begin with. Now this is when he snaps, Chrissy is gone, Eddie is missing, and there are no definite answers. But to Jason there are. In his mind it was simple. He ‘loved’ Chrissy and it would only make sense for his frustrated, repressed, grieving mind to try to come up with a logical explanation for his pain. And so his mind spun the story as such, his ‘perfect’ girl gets killed by the very person he tried so very desperately to hate and ignore his feelings for, an odd and somewhat too coincidental occurrence seeing as Jason most likely never even heard Chrissy mention Eddie, let alone mention wanting to buy drugs off of him. The whole situation was sinful to him. As if God did this to punish him for being gay and having those thoughts about Eddie. As if God made Eddie kill Chrissy just to make him pay for not actually being the ‘perfect’ he so strived for. The fact that Eddie was rumored to be a ‘cult leader’, ‘satanist’, and leader of Hellfire, last one not a rumor but still, didn’t help with Jason’s train of thought. It all made sense to him, and he shared this story with the entire town. Immediately calling the killings ritual scarifies, exclaiming how ‘satanic cults’ were spreading along the county ‘like a disease’. Sound familiar? Because to me it is reminiscent of how people would talk about homosexuality at that time. And IMMEDIATELY after mentioning this ‘disease’ brings Eddie’s name into the conversation. Claiming he is the leader of  a satanic cult right in Hawkins. Following his description of the ‘hellfire cult’ and Erica’s short exclamation of it just being a club for nerds, which as she said is just the facts, he goes to quote the Bible saying he was feeling a deep ‘hopelessness’, stopping to find the right word first Quoting: ‘do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good’ going on that ‘God knows there is ‘good’ in this town, there is ‘good’ in this room. Which to me sounds an awful like him saying there is ‘normal’ people in the town and ‘normal’ people in the town hall meeting currently, himself included. Meaning homosexuals and anything other than the cookie cutter standard is ‘bad’. Which is highlighted further in the scene wear Eddie speaks with Robin about how those cookie cutter ‘normal’ people  ‘hunt the freak’. Jason, trying again desperately to sell himself as a ‘God fearing good ol’ Christian’ boy who is going to ‘save them’ form the ‘satanist’ that is ‘responsible’ for not only Chrissy and the recent killings, but according to him every single bad thing to happen in the ’cursed’ town over the past however many years. Really stretching it. From there on Jason is just trying pretty much to kill Eddie, hoping to ‘kill’ his feelings as well. trying to prove to himself, to God, and to everyone in town that he is ‘good’, ‘normal’, ‘perfect’, and definitely not a gay man crushing on the suspected ‘cult leader’ metalhead. All in all Jason Carver, in my opinion, is just a confused, repressed, while still assholeish, gay man with a crush on Eddie Munson, trying until the very end of his life to prove his thoughts and feelings wrong, ultimately leading to his demise. 

I like to think that maybe him and Eddie are up in Heaven  finally talking like civilized adults about themselves and how they feel, Jason opening up about his feelings, not like it matters now that he’s dead, and Eddie explaining himself and his style better to Jason, and maybe expressing how his constant torture of the metalhead actually had a negative effect on him even if he never let it show. Both finally just getting along, still with snarky banter, but more friendly and teasing now. But hey that’s just wishful thinking, plus my love for enemies to lovers, and my yearning for redemption arcs for characters I hate definitely influencing my thought process on this. 

Again this is just my interpretation of the show and characters included. Most of this evidence is circumstantial at best I just really like to think there's more to Jason than him just being a blonde meathead. Lazy character writing just doesn’t seem to be a thing for the Duffer Brothers, and so it makes you wonder what the subtext is telling us. I mean look at Eddie himself, the man has no more than twenty minutes of screen time his entire existence, and yet he quickly became a fan favorite, and for great reason. His character is detailed and unique and absolutely lovable. Again all fitting into only twenty minutes of screen time. For a character they just made for season four and killed off just as quickly they still made his character have depth and meaning. And that can be said for all the minor characters, Erica, Alexie, Murray, Barb, Bob, Season one Steve, before her became a main character, and even sweet sweet Chrissy who we get all about three scenes of, one being her death. And yet, Jason Carver, when looked at on the surface level, is shallow and underdeveloped. I just can’t think that a character who drives the plot of the season so much would be written so lazily by the Duffer’s who are known for their attention to detail. Perhaps, it was a purposeful shallowness to make the audience hate him and love Eddie all the more, but even that feels a bit lazy and unoriginal. But I have faith in the writers and doubt the Duffer Brothers would ever play us that dirty.

So to conclude; Jason Carver is the stereotypical repressed 80′s homosexual with a huge crush on our beloved Eddie ‘The Hero’ Munson.

Picture Evidence: 

S4 E1 Eddie’The Hero’Munson and Jason‘The Meathead’Carver

[novelconcepts]

i think always about the scene where dani and flora were about to escape the manor before viola showed up, and flora asks where are they going dani said “i don’t know” or something. do you think that if they succeed to leave the house dani would’ve tried to reach jamie? after all they in theory had a date in the pub, so in theory dani knew the little flat above the pub…

It's complete luck, Dani will think later. True idiot luck, nothing more--maybe the first lucky thing to happen in the last hour. Absolutely, they shouldn’t find the village at all. Absolutely, they shouldn’t have managed it: a grown woman with no car, no idea where she’s going, and an eight year old girl sobbing against her shoulder as she runs. They should wind up lost in the dark, staggering desperately in a circle, maybe turning right back up where they started. 

Utter luck, that the adrenaline holds out, that the darkness doesn’t swallow them whole, that she finds herself stumbling through the door of a ramshackle little pub with Flora. Shouldn’t happen. Some tiny part of her wonders if this isn’t the magic of Bly, extending far beyond the reach of that house. Some tiny part of her thinks, If it can reach this far, what’s stopping them from doing the same?

“Hey,” the old man behind the bar snaps. “You can’t bring her in here!”

“Please.” Her head is pounding. Her throat is raw. Screaming hoarsely into a gag will do that to a person. “Please, I’m looking for--for Jamie...”

She trails off, realization striking: she doesn’t even know Jamie’s last name. A woman she somehow feels she’s known forever, a woman she is painfully certain she is already growing to love in ways Eddie couldn’t have pulled out of her with an infinite lifetime, and she doesn’t know her last name. It would be hysterically funny, if she could remember what laughter tasted like. 

More good luck, sweeping in like a thunderstorm: the old man is nodding, though he still looks uneasy at the sight of Flora’s puffy red eyes. At the sight, too, of Dani’s rubbed-raw mouth. They must look awful, a pair of ghosts in their own right, crashing into the easy calm of his night. 

“She know you’re comin’?” he asks gruffly, and Dani shakes her head. “But she knows you.”

He’s looking at Flora, and Dani wonders if the small-town awareness Owen has spoken of with such irritation extends to the Wingrave children. Probably. Probably everyone in town knows the miserable story of two orphans left to cope in that big old haunted house. 

“She knows,” Dani says, when it becomes clear Flora is incapable of her usual boisterous chatter. “Please. Can you call her?”

He makes a face, his hand straying to the black plastic handset behind his head. “Fine, but if you’re lyin’, it’s only fair I warn you she's got a temper--”

Dani lowers Flora onto a stool, leans her weight against the bar, presses a hand to her head. This is insane, she tells the spooling pressure in her chest where air does not seem willing to flow. This is insane, to think there are ghosts pulling at the Wingrave children’s strings, pulling at Miles even now.

Miles. She left him. She left Miles, Rebecca Jessel’s warm voice still ringing in her ears. It’s too late. Too late. Too--

“Dani?” Jamie’s voice, just behind her. She can’t bring herself to lift her head and look. It’d be so much sweeter to remember her last image of Jamie instead, the last glimpse of normalcy drunk greedily in with no knowledge of what would come next. There will be other nights. Promise. Jamie’s hands curled around her own. Jamie’s kiss pressed to her lips with uncharacteristic euphoria. Jamie had giggled, and Dani had felt ten feet tall, the luckiest woman in the world, the richest--

“Flora.” Jamie is bending, a hand pressed to Flora’s face, smoothing back the sweaty mess of her hair. “What’s going on? Where’s Miles? What are you--”

Flora makes a hitching sound, and Dani imagines trying to explain it--not to Jamie, who believes her so readily even when there’s no reason, but to Henry. Henry Wingrave, trusting her with his brother’s children. Henry Wingrave, who she’ll have to face and say, Sir, I did my best, but you never warned me about the ghosts--

“C’mon.” Jamie’s uttered that word once before, an incontrovertible command. Last night, taking Dani’s hand in the kitchen, leading her out to take in flowers and stories. She doesn’t quite do it the same way now--her hand brushes the small of Dani’s back instead of her fingers, urging her gently along--but Dani can hear that same calm charge in her voice. It’s as though Jamie understands something has broken, and has chosen stability in answer to the too-big horror strangling Dani’s ability to explain. 

She lets herself be propelled through the pub, through a door at the back, up a flight of stairs. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she’s loosely aware that it shouldn’t be this way--that she should have visited Jamie’s flat for the first time on Jamie’s schedule, in Jamie’s truck, with Jamie grinning at her over a beer. But, then, what about tonight has gone to plan? What about tonight has been right?

“Sit,” Jamie says, urging her visitors toward a lumpy couch at the center of the small room. She looks calm, though Dani suspects it’s the kind of calm that might at any moment crack open. “Talk.”

An invitation, more than a demand. Dani buries her head in her hands.

“It’s crazy. It’s crazy.”

“You ran here in the dark,” Jamie says. “You ran here in the dark with Flora. Wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t bad.”

Shouldn’t have done it at all. Should have called Jamie--run through the house in search of Hannah--done any number of things that wasn’t a flat sprint over unfamiliar ground into town. Should have kept her head. 

“Miles,” she says, and almost shatters right there. Her head is a land mine, pulsing warning. Her chest aches. Jamie is kneeling on the floor, she realizes, her hands busy at Flora’s face, her hands, searching for sign of damage. Dani inhales. “She’s--she’s okay. Rebecca made sure of it.”

Jamie looks up sharply. “What?”

Dani knows what she looks like, what she must sound like: a rumpled, ragged mess spouting dead women’s names like she has any right to them. Still, Jamie isn’t staring at her like she’s crazy. She’s watching with guarded eyes, her hands--satisfied that Flora is, physically, unharmed--moving to Dani. 

“What about Rebecca?”

“She let us go.” Jamie’s thumb is pressing very gently to her jaw, tilting her head to give the lamplight room to spill over her skin. She hears a breath catch, hears Jamie make a tiny, wounded sound at the sight of the skin rubbed red around Dani’s mouth. “She told me to take her and run.”

And I shouldn’t have. I’ve never listened to ghosts before. Why start now?

“Rebecca,” Jamie repeats. Her hand slips behind Dani’s head, gently inspecting; she finds the knot soon enough, Dani’s telltale gasp of pain pulling something taut behind her eyes. “Fuck, Dani, what--”

“Peter.” Flora’s voice is very small, a shock of unexpected color amidst Jamie’s usual palette. “Peter said we were helping.”

The calm in Jamie does not just break at those words; it erupts, her entire body revolutionized by her sudden rage. She’s got a temper, the old man had said, and Dani’s seen notes of it--at the rose bushes, hoisting a shotgun in the dark--but never quite like this. She stands abruptly straight, her shoulders pulling back, her expression livid. 

“What,” she says, “do you mean, helping?”

It spills out in a chaotic rush--Flora, mostly, explaining through hiccups. Dani supplements where she can, as if she understands any of it. As if she hasn’t, in some part of her throbbing brain, wondered all this time if the evening wasn’t a hallucination born of her concussion. 

“He hit you,” Jamie says. Not a question. “Tied you up. In the attic. And he took Miles.”

Those are, Dani thinks wearily, the bullet points. “He said they were trapped. That the house would wear them away. Rebecca wouldn’t...”

“'Course not,” Jamie says hotly. “’Course she wouldn’t. Fucking Quint.”

Dani blinks up at her. Her vision is gray around the edges, she realizes. Can’t be a good sign. She shivers. “You believe us?”

A little of the rage melts out of Jamie at this--her eyes softening just a bit, her fingers uncurling from a fist. She almost smiles. “You two? Best people I fuckin’ know, why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Because it’s crazy,” Dani says hollowly. “It’s crazy, but--” But that little boy had stood wrong, with Peter pulling his strings. That sweet, lovely little boy had gone hard around the mouth, had gone steely at the shoulders, had held himself like a man three times his age and thirty times more capable of cruelty. 

“I believe you,” Jamie says simply. She gives Dani’s shoulder a squeeze, Flora’s hair a gentle ruffle. “I believe you.”

The flat is quiet after that, for a while. Wrung out, Flora is dozing against the arm of the couch before she seems to know it. Jamie gestures for Dani to stand, the pair of them gently shifting Flora until she is resting comfortably on a throw pillow. She breathes like she’s still preparing a scream, like she is still ready to charge back into that house after her brother, even as Jamie drapes a blanket over her small frame. 

She leads Dani to the bathroom, then, sets her down on the toilet seat. Her hands are steady as ever, gentle as she administers a warm cloth to Dani’s scraped skin--cleaning around her mouth, around wrists that have been chafed nearly bloody--and a bundle of ice to the back of Dani’s head. Dani chases a handful of aspirin with cool water and tries to look as though the whole world isn’t swimming away from her. 

“It’s bad,” she says. “It’s so bad, Jamie. I couldn’t do anything.”

Jamie makes a soft sound of acknowledgment. Dani’s wrist is upturned in her hand, her fingers skimming lightly across rope burn. Dani barely feels it. 

“What if--” She doesn’t want to give it voice. Doesn’t want to admit it’s even possible. Isn’t there something to be said for the power of belief, unpredictability shaped by human faith? “What if he really is gone for good? How do I explain that? How do I live with that?”

Jamie raises her eyes. “Not gonna have to find out.”

Dani frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean.” She turns, drops the wet cloth in the sink, clicks the cap back onto the bottle of pills. “Didn’t let Quint get away with this shite in life. Don’t think for a fuckin’ moment I’d let him do it now.”

Dani shakes her head. “It’s too late--Rebecca said--”

“Love Rebecca.” Her voice is strangled when she says this, as though Jamie is speaking through the entire last year of grief at once. “Loved Rebecca, sister I never had. But she didn’t know everything. Christ, even just getting wound up with him--she makes mistakes, too.”

“But--”

“Dani.” Jamie takes her face between steady hands. Even just this easy proximity, the sweep of her breath not far from Dani’s own, settles something Dani thinks has been screaming most of her life. “I promise. Whatever we have to do--whatever it takes--we’ll fix this.”

“We’ll fix a ghost,” Dani says flatly. Jamie smiles, leaning in until her forehead knocks lightly against Dani’s own. 

“We’ll fix Miles. Kid’s been through too much already. I’ll be damned before I let Quint have him.”

It’s just as insane a thing to say as the rest of the night. Jamie doesn’t know--can’t know--how to make this right. Jamie is just one woman, though maybe the best person Dani’s ever been fortunate enough to find. Jamie can’t turn back time. 

Still. She almost forgets that, watching her make phone calls--to Owen, and to the house, where it rings and rings and Hannah never picks up. She almost forgets that Jamie is not a superhero, as she presses the ice pack to Dani’s head with one hand and says into the receiver, “Quint, yeah. Dunno how. Does it matter?”

She almost forgets that they are not superheroes when Owen knocks on the door. That they are only an au pair, a gardener, a cook, and a little girl. That they are no match for whatever the house has become over the years. She almost forgets. 

Because the set of Owen’s mouth is uncompromising for the first time since she’s met him. Because Flora, refreshed from her nap and no longer tilting toward tears, is grim in the seat beside him. Because, thigh warm against her own in the backseat, Jamie is holding her hand like it’s never crossed her mind to let go. 

They are not superheroes. They are not prepared for the ghosts of Bly Manor. They don’t know where Hannah is, how Rebecca is holding on, what Quint will do in Miles’ body. They don’t know anything at all. 

But they are going back. Because some stories need changing. Because some tragedies cannot be simply accepted. Because Peter Quint deserves to be put in his place, and Miles Wingrave deserves a life of freedom, and whatever’s gone wrong at the great, good place--their home--can be set right. Dani can feel that, way down beneath the headache and the fear. It can be, even if she doesn’t yet know how.

You, she thinks, looking from Owen at the wheel, Flora seatbelted carefully in, Jamie running a thumb over her knuckles. Me, she thinks, watching her own battered face in the rearview mirror. Us, she thinks, remembering the dinner table earlier that night, Hannah’s smile, the music of their mingled laughter. 

This can be fixed. Somehow. It must be.

“Right,” she says in a voice much stronger than she expects as they pull up the long drive. “Step one: find Miles.”

[thisissirius]

Eddie suffering PTSD tonight though?

*heavy breathing*

OKAY LISTEN

(look at me trying to work buck into this lmao even though he’s off with taylor)

equilibrium eddie/buck, spoilers for tonight’s promo, speculatiiion and what i want :P

“Get in the car,” Athena says. 

Buck and Taylor share a look. 

“Buck,” Athena presses. “In the car. Now.”

“Come on,” Taylor says. “Part of investigating is knowing when you should back off.”

Trying not to look Athena in the eye, Buck climbed into the back of her car. Taylor took the seat next to him, and neither of them seemed keen to look Athena in the eye. 

Athena tries to engage them in conversation, but only Taylor responds. There’s a weird feeling in the back of Buck’s chest that he can’t explain. He wants to fix this, to help Sue, and he can’t deny he likes hanging out with Taylor, especially now she’s content to mock him for his giant crush on Eddie. 

Eddie, who’s working without him. 

Buck wonders if Eddie feels as off kilter as he does when they’re not partners. Maybe that’s why he feels as if his skin’s crawling. Eddie’s probably dealing with someone who doesn’t understand him; who passes him the tools at the wrong time, or doesn’t get his ridiculous sense of humour. 

“Buckaroo,” Athena starts, then gets cut off by the radio. 

"All units, I’ve got an armed suspect!” Buck’s heart hammers in his chest. 

There’s a pause. Then Bobby, “we’re taking fire.”

“Units, shots fired!”

Athena’s got the lights on and they’re off. Buck knows this definitely isn’t protocol, but when he meets her eyes in the rearview, she just purses her lips together. 

Fuck. Bobby’s taking shots. Hen, Chim. Eddie. 

“Fuck,” Buck whispers furiously. 

Taylor reaches over, touches his hand. “He’ll be fine.”

Buck nods, says, “yeah,” even though he can’t shake the dread. 

The radio continues to yell, Athena muttering to herself, but Buck sinks into the headspace he reserves for panic. He doesn’t know what to expect when they pull up to the container yard, but it’s not;

“Buck,” Hen snaps, racing up to Athena’s car. 

“Wait,” Athena starts, but Hen’s ignoring her, tugging Buck closer. 

“We can’t get him to let the patient go, you understand?”

Buck blinks, confused, but then he sees Chim and Bobby, someone else, gathered around the front of the container. “What--”

“PTSD flashback,” Bobby says quickly. “We can’t get through.”

“Why do you think I-” Buck trails off as he steps closer to the doors. Eddie’s head immediately snaps up, focuses on him. 

“Buck,” Eddie says. Whispers. It’s raw, panicked, and Buck’s chest tightens. “Where have you been?”

Buck gives Bobby a look, then ducks down. 

“Buck,” Hen starts. 

“Shut up,” Buck whispers. Louder, he slides into the container, trying to stay low. “What’s the situation?”

Eddie stares at him, arms around the victim. She looks distressed, panicked, and Buck’s torn. He wants to help her, but he wants to help Eddie. Okay. First, victim. Second, Eddie. Eddie says nothing, just keeps staring.

“Okay,” Buck says carefully, mostly to himself. Eddie’s not present, that much is clear, but he’s trying desperately to be. Eddie’s looking from Buck, to the victim, to the container, and then back to Buck. He slides closer to Eddie. “Pass her here. You focus on protecting us okay?”

It’s going to the heart of Eddie, he knows. Eddie’s got a protective streak a mild wide when it comes to Chris, and Buck hopes he can tap into that for the victim. Eddie looks like he might refuse for a moment, but then he’s nodding. 

Buck blows out a breath, gestures for the woman to come to him. He doesn’t know where she’s hurt, why the call was put out, but she manages to disentangle herself from Eddie and shuffle closer. Buck grabs her, whispers, “go. Round the edge of the container.”

Panicked, she nods, giving Eddie a look before she rolls out of Buck’s way. 

“Eddie,” Buck says again. “Focus on me, alright?”

“I can’t,” Eddie says, and his voice is shaking. There’s a faraway look to his expression, and his hand keeps clenching and unclenching as if missing something. A gun, Buck knows. 

Buck doesn’t know what he’s doing here. He’s out of his depth. Eddie’s always kept his PTSD close to his chest. Buck knows he has nightmares, knows he gets thrown out of his head sometimes by a smell or a sound. Buck suffers the same around salt water, the sound of waves. 

Mints, Buck remembers. He’d read a book that said mints are supposed to be a strong smell enough to pull you back to the present. He doesn’t have any. Loud noises. Ice. Something sour. None of the things Buck has. 

“What can you see?”

Eddie’s head whips back around. 

“What can you see?” Buck asks again, sliding in front of Eddie. 

“You,” Eddie says. 

“Who am I?”

“Buck.” Eddie doesn’t sound exasperated, which worries Buck. 

Buck nods, holds out a hand. “That’s good. What else?”

“We’re,” Eddie starts, swallows. His hand flexes again. “Your hand.”

“Can I touch you?” Buck hardly dares breathe. He doesn’t know if this is a flashback. It feels more like disassociation; Eddie’s hand flexing, not around a gun like Buck thought, but rubbing his fingers against the palm of his hand. Trying to feel. 

Eddie nods, slowly, and Buck takes his hand. Eddie grabs tight, both hands wrapped around Buck’s. “I’m here, right?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, voice shaking. “Eddie, you’re here. In a container. On a call.”

A breath. Two. “Sirens.”

Good. “Yeah, Eddie. Voices?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “There was a victim, where-”

“She’s safe,” Buck assures him. “You back with me?”

Eddie doesn’t answer right away. He blinks, peering past Buck to the entrance of the container. “I don’t know.”

It takes a few more minutes. Buck rests his free hand on Eddie’s shoulder, waits for Eddie to stop shaking. It takes a while, time passes as people move around them, outside the container. Some of the sirens stop, others start up, and Buck focuses on Eddie. 

“I don’t think I’m all here.”

Buck feels his eyes burning. “That’s alright, Eddie. We’ve got time.”

Eddie licks at his bottom lip. “I wanna go home.”

“Alright,” Buck assures him, hand moving to the back of Eddie’s head. He’s not wearing his helmet, Buck realises, and feels sweat on the back of Eddie’s neck, his hair. “You okay to stand up?”

“Yeah.” Under other circumstances, Eddie would snap, tell Buck he can manage, and Buck wishes he would. It’s more familiar than the quiet noise Eddie makes when he climbs to his feet. “Buck-”

“Wait,” Buck says, when Hen and Bobby try to press forward. “Cap, I need to take him home.”

Bobby opens his mouth, looks at Eddie, then back to Buck. “Like this?”

Buck nods, desperately hopes Bobby understands. “He needs to be safe.”

“Alright,” Bobby says, and Buck’s grateful. He’s never been so thankful Bobby understands with barely any words. “We’ll call later, alright?”

Moving back, Hen and Chim start barking at others to clear the area, and Buck hears Athena’s voice in there. When he and Eddie step out of the container, Eddie flinching from the light, Buck looks towards Athena’s car. Athena’s there, yelling at someone, and Taylor’s right there. She gives Buck a look, a tight smile, and then says something to Athena. 

Eddie seems content to follow Buck, keeping one hand around Buck’s, squeezing every now and then. His eyes dart from lights to containers, around the commotion surrounding the shooter, towards the bright lights. “S’bright.”

“Just the emergency vehicles,” Buck assures him. “What are you focusing on?”

“Your aftershave,” Eddie says, and Buck wants to cry at the expression on Eddie’s face. He looks lost, a little disorientated. “It’s the one you keep at mine.”

Buck nods, remembers putting it on before leaving Chris in Pepa’s capable hands. “Yeah, it is.”

When they reach the barrier, Athena intercepts, making sure to keep a few feet between her and Eddie and Buck. 

“You need a ride?” Athena asks. 

“Eddie?” Buck asks. “You want Athena to take us home?”

In response, Eddie’s head snaps up and he takes a deep breath. “Chris?”

“He’s safe,” Buck says, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “Look at me? He’s safe, Eddie. We’re just getting in Athena’s car, going back home, alright?”

Eddie nods slowly, blinks, and then seems to notice the car. “Athena.”

“Hey,” Athena says, sounding more gentle than Buck can remember. “You wanna see Chris? I’ll get you there, baby.”

Remaining pliant as they gently get him into the car, Eddie buckles himself in, which is a small improvement. Buck closes the door and lets out a shaky breath. 

“You alright?” Taylor asks. Athena’s watching him too, both of them concerned. 

“I will be,” Buck says, realising it’s true as he does. “When we get Eddie safe.”

That doesn’t take long; Athena manages to get them to Eddie’s house quickly, and Eddie seems a little more aware when Buck pulls him from the car. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Athena says, and Buck knows she means more than just Eddie. He nods, watches her drive away, while Eddie turns his face into Buck’s neck. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, startled when Eddie takes deep breaths, hand fisted in Buck’s shirt. Belatedly, he realises what Eddie’s doing. “My aftershave?”

Eddie nods, pulls back a little. “We’re on my driveway. My house.”

“Chris is inside,” Buck says. “Your room, your bed.”

Buck’s got a spare key to the house, which he’s grateful for now they’re standing at the front door. He’s not sure he wants to drive back to the station for Eddie’s stuff. He manages to get Inside the door and down the hall, where Eddie presses into Chris’ room, slides to his knees by the bed. He’s dirty, shaking and breathing heavy as he presses a kiss to Chris’ forehead. 

“Buck,” he says eventually, sounding wrecked. 

Buck moves forward, a hand in Eddie’s hair, down to the back of his neck. “I’m here. Come on, up you get.”

Eddie lets himself be led into his bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed. “I hate this.”

“I know,” Buck says. Eddie doesn’t need his pity, his platitudes. He needs Buck to be safe, an anchor. “You feel that?”

“The sheets,” Eddie says with a nod. “I can hear the humidifier.”

“Good.” Buck tugs off Eddie’s work clothes. “You need a shower?”

Eddie shakes his head. “It’ll feel weird, like needles. I just want, can we just,” he doesn’t seem to know what to settle on, toes curling into the carpet when Buck pulls off his socks, as if trying to focus on touch. 

“I’ve got you,” Buck assures him, takes Eddie’s hand. They can sort everything else in the morning. Buck tucks them both under the covers, runs his fingers up Eddie’s arm. “Feel that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, breathless. He curves into Buck’s space, eyes wide. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

It’s progress. Not a solution, but progress. Gently, Buck presses Eddie’s head to his chest, runs a hand through his hair. “Alright?”

“Soon,” Eddie says, and his fingers fist in the sheets beneath them. “A dog barking.”

Buck can hear it, the terrier from a few doors down. “The cars?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice sounds small, exhausted. “Your shirt is the soft one.”

Laughing, Buck presses a kiss to the top of Eddie��s head. “Your hair needs a wash.”

“Can’t feel that,” Eddie says, and it’s so close to Eddie that Buck lets out a shaky breath of his own, relieved. A hesitation. Then, quietly, Eddie says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Buck replies. He tightens his grip on Eddie, runs his fingers over Eddie’s hip, under his shirt. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Eddie says, voice heavy with wonder, with relief. 

Buck closes his eyes. “You’re safe.”

Eddie remains tight in the circle of Buck’s arms, whispers, “with you,” like a promise.

not sure i like this, but yolo. i’m also sure this won’t happen tonight whoops.

[hexensalbei]

play with fire

find on ao3

This is going to be a fun ride.

The silence in the car is scary because itʼs uncomfortable and that has never been a problem before. Buck shoots a quick glance at his friend. Eddieʼs eyes are fixated on the road, his jaw so clenched, Buck swears, he can hear his teeth gritting. His hands are on the steering wheel but his grip is so tight, his knuckles are white. Yeah, heʼs definitely mad.

The problem is that Buck doesnʼt know why Eddie is so furious.

Fine.

Maybe he knows. But that doesnʼt mean he understands. Heʼs never seen Eddie that angry. He remembers vividly when Eddie snapped at him in the grocery store right after the lawsuit—but itʼs just a pale comparison to his rage now. It doesnʼt make sense—because Buck didnʼt do anything stupid like another lawsuit—he just... He just did his job.

He risked his life to save someone elseʼs but he does it almost on a daily basis; Eddie does the exact same thing and yet, Buck has never snapped at him. So why is it different now?

Because you almost died today says an annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his sister.

Because you almost died in Eddieʼs fucking arms.

Buck tries to ignore it; he has to ignore it because if he doesnʼt, heʼll drown in guilt and shame. And probably wake up some long forgotten demons.

He canʼt re-live it again and again.

When they stop, he realises, theyʼre in front of Eddieʼs house and heʼs genuinely surprised his friend brought him here.

“This isnʼt my apartment.” He blurts out. He knows itʼs probably the dumbest thing he couldʼve said but he doesnʼt understand why Eddie took him to his home if heʼs pissed off at him. Itʼd be definitely easier to cool off if the source of his anger wasnʼt there, right? 

“Like hell Iʼm letting you stay alone after the shit you did.”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice that makes Buck squirm. He sounds angry, sure, but also hurt, broken. Resigned. He sounds exactly like when Shannon died.

Buck knows that because he was there. He remembers how mad Eddie was at his wife for leaving him and Christopher again, this time for good.

Eventually, Eddie gets out of the car and goes to the house. Buck quietly follows his best friendʼs footsteps and he flinches when Eddie drops off his bag on the floor.

“You can take a shower if you want, Iʼll make up the bed.”

He knows Buck too well; he knows that Buck hates the specific smell of the hospital and always tries to get rid of it as soon as possible. Buckʼs really grateful for that also because he can simply postpone their argument, just for a little bit. Maybe shower will help him cool off because heʼs irritated too but he doesnʼt truly want to fight with Eddie. He goes to the bathroom, takes off his clothes and steps under the shower. He lets the cold water run down his body and he really tries to calm himself; there was enough drama today and yeah, he almost died so he deserves to have a moment of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks. Heʼs getting more and more cold and he knows he should get out before Eddie will storm inside and drag him out of the shower. Buck wouldnʼt be even surprised if his friend did something like this.

Then, with a long sigh, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He quickly rinses himself with a towel and slips into his most comfortable clothes. Whatʼs a little funny and maybe even ironic, his favorite grey, worn out t-shirt is actually Eddieʼs and it even smells like him.

Crap.

He really needs to finally leave the bathroom and face his friend but heʼs trying to delay the inevitable by thoroughly brushing his teeth. And then, he doesnʼt find anything else he can do so he goes back to the living room. Heʼs quite surprised that he doesnʼt see the pillows or blanket on the couch because he thought heʼs gonna sleep there and heʼs even more surprised he doesnʼt see Eddie there. He finds him in the kitchen instead, leaning against the counter and nursing his favourite beer. Thereʼs a glimpse of hope in Buckʼs chest that maybe Eddie cooled off a little, that maybe he realised he has exaggerated and his anger isnʼt completely justified. Heʼs wrong, though. Eddie is not even slightly less annoyed and it takes Buck one look at his best friend to realise that.

He sighs again because Eddieʼs anger starts to get on his nerves. He moves closer until he stands against Eddie and looks him in the eye.

“Do what you have to do, letʼs get this over with.” He says with a tiredness in his voice. The only thing he wants right now is sleep, he wants to fall asleep and forget about the whole world for a couple of hours. “If you want to yell at me then be my guest and do it. I donʼt even care.”

“Oh, so now youʼre annoyed at me? Really?” Eddie asks wryly and sets aside the bottle with a little too much force, it almost smashes. Neither of them care anyway. Theyʼre now standing against each other, so close they almost hear each otherʼs heartbeat and they fix each other with a glare. 

“Yeah, I am. You act like Iʼve done something wrong, like I wasnʼt supposed to do this and—” 

Heʼs cut off by Eddie who lets out a humourless laugh and answers in a higher voice than usual. 

“God, do you even listen to yourself? You went to that building all by yourself, you disobeyed Bobbyʼs specific orders to not go there because youʼre you and youʼre above all the orders, right? It doesnʼt matter if Bobby did it because he didnʼt want to risk one of us dying there. But you just couldnʼt listen.”

“Funny thatʼs coming out from the man who cut his rope and almost died in the well.” Buck interjects viciously because heʼs truly angered by now.

Something flashes in Eddieʼs eyes but Buck canʼt name it. He doesnʼt even have the time to think about it because his best friend doesnʼt back out.

“Itʼs not relevant now, weʼre talking about today and your stupid, reckless behaviour. What were you thinking? Or-Or maybe donʼt. You probably werenʼt thinking at all. Obviously. And it almost cost you a life! Your life! How can you be so reckless?!” Eddie shouts and the pain in his voice is very noticeable but Buck pretends to ignore it.

“Iʼm a firefighter. Itʼs kinda in a job description, donʼt you think? Sometimes I have to be a little reckless. Besides, I did save a life and I didnʼt die either, right? Otherwise I wouldnʼt be standing there and listen to you being all pissed.” Buck shrugs like itʼs nothing, like he really doesnʼt care about his life. Itʼs probably another thing he shouldnʼt have said because Eddie straightens up and now, thereʼs almost no space between. For the second Buck thinks Eddie will lash out and just hit him. He kinda wishes he did. But Eddie only sighs heavily and rakes through his hair with frustration. 

“God, youʼre driving me crazy, Buckley. Youʼre so dumb and stubborn and you donʼt even stop for a second to think about the consequences of your actions. You donʼt even care what would happen if you actually died, do you?”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice, something hard to catch and name that stops Buck from responding immediately. His words are ringing in his ears because they are annoyingly true. He didnʼt think about the consequences of his eventual death. He literally just stormed inside the building to find a man despite Bobbyʼs direct order to not go there because it was already too dangerous. He did it anyway, he managed to save a life but he didnʼt manage to get out in time and the whole building just collapsed. He doesnʼt remember much but he certainly remembers being held out by Eddie and his donʼt you dare die here, you dumbass. 

It mustʼve been scary, he admits, and he thinks he understands how Eddie mustʼve felt because he also saw his best friend almost dying. But the anger? He still doesnʼt get it.

“Iʼve had a few close calls during the years. Why is it so different now?” He finally asks.

“Because Iʼm in love with you, you asshole!” Eddie cries out. “And you just keep dying on me and I canʼt take it anymore!”

Buckʼs brain short-circuits. He mustʼve died after all, right? There is no real possibility Eddie just told heʼs in love with him. Thereʼs no possibility he may actually reciprocate his feelings. Thereʼs no way itʼs not just his hallucination or some kind of weird dream in his afterlife. But he desperately wants to be the truth, desperately needs validation for his thoughts. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he grabs Eddie by the collar of his Henley and crashes their lips together. His friend is definitely surprised, even shocked and for a moment, he does nothing. Buck already starts to panic because he thinks it’s real and he might’ve misheard everything or even projected it and just destroyed their friendship. But then, Eddie suddenly changes position and pushes Buck until he leans against the counter. And when he kisses him, all thoughts and doubts are completely gone from Buckʼs mind. The only things that matter are Eddieʼs lips on his, Eddieʼs hands on his body, Eddie utterly focused on him and that desperate need to fulfil their desire. Buck mightʼve kissed a lot of people in his life; he has had both awkward and amazing kisses but they cannot compete to make out with his best friend. It feels entirely different, maybe because Eddie loves him back. They break apart only for a couple of seconds to take a breath; Buck sits on the counter and brings Eddie closer by the belt. He canʼt take his eyes off him; Eddie looks wonderful with already swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He probably looks no better but he doesnʼt even care.

“I know youʼve probably already noticed but I love you too, asshole.” He says in a teasing voice, inches away from Eddieʼs lips.

“Well, I mightʼve suspected it when you kissed me but itʼs nice to actually hear it. But donʼt even think that you say you love me, bat your eyelashes and kiss me this way and I wonʼt be angry at you.” Eddie warns half-seriously.

“I can try.” Buck just smirks and kisses him again. This time, he also quickly unbuckles the belt Eddieʼs wearing and starts to lift his shirt. His friend doesnʼt even protest, he lets him do whatever he wants and thatʼs why his Henley ends up somewhere on the floor. Then, the blonde moves from his lips to his neck and slowly makes his way down, planting kisses on his chest. Itʼs crazy how quickly their anger turned into lust. Now, the tension between them is much better, more exciting, easy to resolve. 

Eddie lets out a loud moan when Buck—this sneaky bastard—grabs his ass and squeezes it.

“Youʼre a menace.” He hisses.

“Oh, you should wait with the sweet talk after Iʼm done with you, Diaz.” Buck grins and he doesnʼt stop with the teasing. He unzips Eddieʼs jeans painfully slowly and Eddie almost whines to hurry up. The younger man notices it and winks at him before he adds. “Although Iʼm not sure if youʼll be able to talk at all.” 

“So maybe quit talking, Evan, and show me your skills?” 

“As you wish, Edmundo.”

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath.  “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

--------------

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

[sardinesandhumbugs]

“Congratulations, you have invented a new kind of stupid.”

I think you know which two characters this is for.

A/N: I know you intended this to be Ratty & Toad, but since you didn't specify (and because someone else has actually submitted the exact same prompt & characters) I'm going to play ignorant and apply this to Mole & Ratty instead. :D Also this is set after @a-place-to-come-back-to's recent ficlet, which I've very kindly been given permission to follow up because I needed to return fire the angst.

x

Rat didn't remember much of being sick.

He supposed that was a blessing of sorts.

(In the weeks that followed, fleeting déjà vu would unsettle him – in a turn of phrase, in the looks that haunted him – but right now he was simply tired and aching and borne down with the effort of waking.)

Mole entered, and Rat blearily recalled the parting words Badger had thrown his way earlier. "I've been told," he said, aiming for humour but sounding hoarse instead, "that you might have some choice words for me."

Mole sank into the chair beside the bed, and his failure to rise to the teasing tone unnerved Rat more than he cared to admit. There was a presence in the corridor beyond the room also, that of Badger and... Toad? Their shadows caught the edge of the threshold, uncharacteristically still in the latter's case. There was a heavy silence thickening the air, the kind found on hallowed ground, or libraries.

Or funerals.

Rat decided he didn't like the last comparison.

"Mole–"

"How do you feel?"

Hadn't he already answered that for Badger only a few minutes...? Or was it an hour? Hazily, Rat realised he'd dozed in Badger's leaving and Mole's arrival, and time had slipped from him. He couldn't be sure the reddened sky was dawn or dusk, or indeed if it was even the same sunrise/set that he'd previously woken to.

Better to be dusk, he thought. Wasn't that the phrase? Red sky at night, sailor's delight? Red sky at morning, sailor's... something. Mourning? No.

"Ratty?"

Mole's prompting brought Rat back to the present, and he refocused on the question. "I feel as fit as a fiddle," Rat croaked. It wasn't in the least bit convincing, but anything to curb that grieving fear that his home had seen far too much of. "Give me another hour, and I'll be doing cartwheels."

There was a harrumph from the doorway, followed by a gruff, "Least he's feeling well enough to joke about it," that Rat suspected he wasn't meant to catch. Regardless, the crotchety tone reassured Rat. It was far more familiar than the desperate relief he'd encountered upon his first waking.

Beside him, Mole gave a snuffling, tired laugh. "You've never done cartwheels in your life."

"I've just never had need to."

"You'd trip over your tail."

"Name one time–"

"On the open road," Mole answered instantly, just a smidgen too smugly for Rat's liking. "Several times. You got rather drunk that first day in the caravan."

"Oh." Rat attempted to remember it, but between the vagueness of his post-illness mind, and the inebriated haziness of the original memory, he had no hope. "Well," he grumbled, "that was the drinks' doing, not mine."

"Sure, Ratty."

They lapsed back into silence, and Rat could feel the mood shifting as Mole prepared to broach whatever subject Badger had alluded to with his 'choice words' remark.

In the emptiness, Rat's mind eddied. It swung between the cacophony outside – the birds sang, was it in their rising or their dawn chorus? – onto if it were the latter, how sparingly had his friends slept? There was certainly the fatigue of sleepless nights about in both Mole and Badger – before the train of thought slipped away entirely in a fit of exhaustion and he was momentarily only aware of how his whole form ached.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad it'd gotten?" Mole eventually demanded.

"Why didn't you say how bad it was?" Ratty demands. The room is warm, too warm, and still the older animal shivers. The creeping sickness is stealing his father away in inches, but only now does Ratty see how the finishing line for this fatalistic race is a matter of feet, not miles.

His father answers in that rattling breathlessness that has become so cruelly familiar. "I didn't want you to worry."

In the here and now, Rat hesitated. "I..." The memory crowded his mind, and he refused to echo the past a second time. "I thought I'd get better. Without having to wo– without having to inconvenience anyone."

Mole snorted. "Well then, congratulations," he said. "You've invented a new kind of stupid."

Even through the post-sickness, Rat had the energy to look indignant. "I find that hard to believe when we're both familiar with Toad–"

"If you'd just admitted to this earlier, we could have got the pneumonia seen to before it got this bad," Mole snapped. "Instead I had to get Toad and the doctor involved on a matter of urgency, then fetch Badger late into the day, and Mrs Otter has been round twice, and when you wouldn't wake–" Mole faltered, anger and fear choking the words. "I don't give a fig about the inconvenience of it all, but since you do, perhaps you should have considered that before deciding that hiding it away would be a kindness."

"How long have you known?" Ratty stands in the too-hot kitchen with shaking paws. He clings to the anger. It hurts less than the grief.

"Ratty–"

"How long?"

Though his nose might not have been as sensitive as Badger's or Mole's, Rat could smell it now. The fear. Potent and tearstained and the type that preceded grief. It mingled with the scent of worm stew – one of Mrs Otter's specialities when it came to home cooked offerings for Rat's housemate – and, all in a rush, he recalled another time the house had been a recipient of the otter's culinary kindness.

"For you," Mrs Otter says, pushing the dish into Ratty's paws. "Thought you might not be eating much after... well–" she glances subtly but not subtly enough to the empty chair along the jetty, "you know."

He looked back to his friend now, the past ricocheting and overlaying the present in uncomfortable parallels. "I'm sorry. I should have – should have told you sooner."

"You should've," Mole agreed. "And we won't make that mistake again, will we?"

Rat rather felt that that was a rather pointed usage of the royal 'we.' "No, we won't."

The tap of the cane denoted Badger's entrance. It sounded louder than usual, as if Badger was leaning heavily against it. "Right then, now that's all sorted out, it's time that some animals got some sleep." He laid a paw on Mole's shoulder. "You too."

"I'm fine–" Mole began.

"Dozing on and off through the wee small hours of the night does not count as fine," Badger told him. "I'm not having two animals collapse on my watch."

With only a small amount of protesting – which betrayed just how tired he was – Mole was ushered out, leaving Badger alone at the bedside.

"So," Rat said, "I guess you're on invalid duty?"

"I'm off to fetch the doctor," Badger said. He grinned. "Toad is on invalid duty until I'm back."

As if on cue – and, to be honest, Rat couldn't be sure that Toad hadn't been waiting in the wings for the perfect entrance – Toad staggered in under a small mountain of blankets. "Don't you worry, Badge, I have this all under control! I've had my staff bring over the finest blankets from Toad Hall, so much better than any ratty old throw you probably have here, no offence, Ratty–"

"Offence taken."

"–and my chef is cooking up enough chicken soup to keep you going through 'til next spring. By the time the doctor comes round, you'll be so well recovered that she'll wonder why she was summoned."

"Toad?" Rat implored Badger. "You're leaving me alone with Toad?"

"It wouldn't have come to this if you'd come clean sooner," Badger said, with just a dash of tell-tale impishness to his words.

"I'm sick! I need rest!"

"And you'll get it," Badger said. He added, in a tone that belied a semblance of pity, "I won't be long."

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!" Rat wheezed.

The door swung shut behind Badger, and Rat was left to warily eye his assigned caretaker.

Toad, in comparison, didn't seem the least bit perturbed by Rat's outburst. He patted Rat's shoulder. "All this stress will do you no good, Ratty, but fortunately, Toad is on the case and I know just what you need."

"Peace and quiet?" Rat offered hopefully.

"Entertainment! Distraction! And, luckily for you, I happen to have discovered the most intriguing hobby. You see, it began last week while I was dropping by the town, and who should I encounter, but..."

Rat didn't remember much of being sick. But, it turned out, he would remember every moment of the recovery.

Whether or not he wanted to.

[buddielove]

I don’t approve of what Athena did but as a child who pushed their parents to their absolute limit I understand why she did it. For a long time my house felt like a war zone, my mother and I fought constantly and violently, and it always felt like any moment could be the end of the world (I’m 28 now, and our relationship is better, just fyi! I’m ok) I suspect Athena is feeling like this. I’m not sure but it seems like Harry’s mind is all over the place (totally understandable) and I’m hoping as the season progresses we get a little more depth into his mind, though I suspect it’s like static on the TV. A lot of whatever that ahole told him but also pieces of his past experiences with his parents because he is a kid and this personality switch happened so quickly. He knew exactly what to say to Athena to make her snap, and I wouldn’t be surprised bythe was he was tuning Michael out tonight we are gonna see him do something similar to his father soon.

I also want to say it seemed very off brand for Michael be spring the therapist thing on Athena, especially since therapist are mandatory reporters (tbh Bobby is too and May probably) and that could have lead to a lot more issues than it did (especially after a kidnapping incident, the therapist could potentially deem Michael and Athena unsafe parents and have Harry removed from their care), but springing therapy on a woman like Athena is not a good idea and you’d think the man who was married to her for like 20 years would know there needs to be a better way, like we have SEEN him do things for Athena in other seasons. Get it back in brand yall. Also if Michael lashes out and blames Athena too I probably wouldn’t be surprised, he didn’t seem to cope with his part in Harry’s kidnapping and not much else.

As for Buck I’m really questioning what the motive behind ‘I’m going to leave the 118’ was? It was almost like a pitty party, like it was delivered so meekly and then everyone was like ‘ ehh, anyway’ like was it supposed to bring an emotional reaction from the audience? Buck also should probably say sorry to Ravi, though I think he didn’t because he didn’t see what he was doing was wrong necessarily (even thought it was him taking his frustrations out on Ravi) and no one else around him seemed to notice (probably cause they all got hazed like 10x harder. It’s not right but I’m thinking that’s why no one called Buck on it, it’s a normal thing to them). In the coming episodes I’d like for him to show Ravi some more compassion, and get to know him as more than a probie to haze.

Chim and Maddie CONTINUING to put Buck in the middle sucks, they fucking suckkk for this and I hope when they get back (and if we get good writing that day) Maddie and Chim will acknowledge what they did was wrong, and Buck doesn’t accept the apology but instead says something like ‘I understand why you did it. Don’t do it again.’ I think all of the 118 should probably show up at a therapists office. In the next episode if Buck calls Chim and is like ‘she’s here!’ And then for the rest of the season Buck and Chim and Maddie play phone tag, then hiatus and then Chim and Maddie finally reappear because Buck’s connected the clues for them (andit will probably in LA tbh).

Also the weird ass tension between Hen and Eddie?? Like I get Hen’s in an emotional state with Chim being gone but we have seem her and Eddie work together? They’ve never been stepping on each other like they did tonight? Also I don’t think Eddie was being weird persay, I think that might have just been part of Buck’s pitty party lol.

Also Taylor’s emotional growth in the last two episodes (??) I am glad rn Buck is with someone who can realize he both needs to understand he is not the center of the universe which all bad comes from BUT ALSO understands that sometimes you need to feel like you’re the only person who matters.

Buddie still the end game though.

[ravens-words]

to watch you fall, part 4 of 6

On AO3

Five times Buck and Eddie were oblivious idiots (in love), and the one time they weren't.

Or, Buddie through Maddie's eyes.

This one is the angstiest chapter by far (ft. Hurt/Comfort, Buck being Christopher's second parent, and Maddie being the best sister ever)

Happy Reading!

.

When Maddie got the call, it was 5 am, and her heart nearly stopped. Howie stirred beside her, and when she looked at the screen and saw Bobby's name, she took her boyfriend's hand in hers and answered the phone, heart in her throat. "Hello?" She hated how her voice shook, but she paid it no mind. 

"Hey, Maddie. Sorry to wake you, but-"

"Did something happen to my brother?" She blurted out.

Bobby was silent for two seconds before he answered. And they were the longest of her life. "Buck's alright. Eddie isn't, though."

She closed her eyes. "I'm on my way."

She woke Chimney up, filled him in, and within ten minutes, they were out the door. 

They got to the hospital in record time, and found Buck and Bobby with ease. They were sitting on the waiting room chairs; Buck had his head in his hands, while Bobby had a hand on her brother's back. The older man looked worried. She ran the last steps to him, Howie hot on her heels. "Buck!"

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and she nearly stopped dead in her tracks at the dead look in his eyes. He stood up, his movements robotic, and she wasted no time in pulling him into a tight hug. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and she stroked his hair, willing him to say something, to cry, to do anything. That was when she noticed the bandage on his hand and halfway up his arm.

She pulled away and held his face in her hands. "What happened, huh? Are you hurt?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and it looked like he had trouble understanding what she was saying. She turned her concerned eyes to Bobby as helped Buck back into his seat.

"Concussion," he answered, gaze filled with worry as he looked at her brother. "Some bumps and bruises on his arm and back." 

"How did this happen?"

Bobby stood up and let her have his seat beside Buck and she took it gratefully, and to her surprise, he didn't move far. He kept a hand on Buck's shoulder as he filled her in.

"Buck and Eddie were inside a burning house, looking for a kid. Buck found her, and they were on their way out when the floor collapsed."

"I tried to hold onto him, I swear," Buck said hoarsely, voice no louder than a whisper. 

Bobby sighed,  looking sad. "I know, kid." This probably wasn't the first time he'd had to say the words.

"But the debris- I- I tried not to let go, but I couldn't."

Buck was shaking, eyes glassy and  wide. Maddie suspected he was reliving what happened back there. Bobby must have felt the tremors running through his body, because he crouched down in front of him and took both of Buck's hands in his, rubbing some warmth into them probably. "Buck, you did everything you could."

His eyes, red and filled with such heartbreak that it was a little hard to look at him, met Bobby's and he crumbled. "I let him go, Bobby."

Bobby pulled him into his arms, and Maddie felt Chimney do the same to her. Bobby stroked his hair, and pressed a tender kiss to her brother's head, and not for the first time, she was glad Buck had made this family for himself, that he'd found them. "You did everything you could, and I'm proud of you, do you hear me? You got little Ella out, and then you went back in and got him out, too. You did your best, Buck."

He shuddered and nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. He pulled away from Bobby and dried his eyes with the back of his uninjured hand. "I talked to Eddie's grandma, she said she'd come as soon as she found someone to look after Christopher."

"It might be better if she held off until he's out of surgery. Doc said it might take a while," Bobby told him, and Buck nodded. 

And so they waited. Buck attempted to get her to go home, but she refused. "If you're staying, I'm staying."

They dozed off for a couple of hours, Maddie's head on Buck's shoulders, and his head on hers. By the time it was 7 am, there were a lot more people in the waiting room. The first one to arrive was Eddie's grandmother, who made a beeline for Buck and spoke quietly to him. They talked a bit, then he got up and hugged her tightly. Next was someone unfamiliar. She was pretty; curly black her, dark skin, and worried eyes. By the nervous exhale Buck let out when he caught sight of the woman, she guessed this was Anna. 

She had coffee with her, and she passed them out, leaving Buck for last. He took the paper cup with a grateful nod, but that was it, he didn't say anything. She squeezed his shoulder, then moved off to stand to the side. Maddie felt bad for her, because she must be feeling like an outsider right now. Isabel spoke briefly to Buck before she got up and went over to Ana. The two women spoke in hushed tones and Isabel squeezed Ana's arm with a smile.

Buck's phone rang, and he seemed relieved to have a distraction. He got up, though he didn't move far- mainly because the room was tiny and there was nowhere to go if he wanted privacy. He closed his eyes, dread now replacing the relief, and rested his head on the wall when he saw the caller ID, then he sniffled and seemed to pull himself together. "Hey, Carla," he answered wearily. "Yeah, put him on the phone." His fist was clenched at his side, and he had a grip on the phone that was so tight, his knuckles were white.

"Hey, kid," he attempted to say cheerfully, and he mostly succeeded. Everyone in the waiting room was watching him now. "Kid, no, hey, listen to me." He stopped and listened for a while. "I get that you're scared, okay? I am, too. But your dad's the strongest person you know, right?" He chuckled wetly at whatever Christopher said. "Exactly." He then sobered up. "Anything you want, Christopher- yeah, kid, you can come." Ana made a noise, and when she looked at her, Maddie saw that she obviously disagreed with Buck's decision. "Can you put Carla on the phone?" Buck requested, hand buried in his hair now. Then his whole being softened. "Love you, too, little man."

"Hey, Carla- yeah, I know. Can you bring him here?" He smiled sadly. "Thanks."

He hung up and slid down the wall, phone held in both hands and pressed to his forehead. The hurt was coming off him in waves, and it was suffocating. Everyone in the waiting room was watching him again, and it seemed that none of them knew what to do. 

It took half an hour for Carla and Christopher to get there, and once Buck got the text they were there, his whole demeanor changed. When she looked at him, there was no pain, no hurt and no fear. It was like he was a whole new person. The transformation struck her as something only a parent should be capable of, and it made her heart ache for her baby brother even more. 

Christopher appeared, followed by Carla, and he only had eyes for Buck, it seemed. He crashed into him with such force that Buck needed to put a hand on the wall to steady himself, but in the next second, he had the little boy in his arms, crutches and all. The minute he was in Buck's arms, Christopher started crying, heartbreaking sobs wrenching out of his body and shaking him. Buck just held him, swaying him from side to side, until minutes later, he'd calmed down enough to pull away. Buck sat down with him in his lap, all his attention on the little boy. When she chanced a look around the faces in the waiting room, no one seemed surprised by the display. Except Ana, maybe, who looked like she'd been sucker punched. She was watching the way Christopher was clinging to Buck, the way he looked up at him and asked him through the tears if he thought his dad was going to be okay, and the blind faith he seemed to have in him- Buck had said yes, and Christopher had just nodded, accepting the words immediately. 

Isabel was the first to move toward the pair, her eyes shining with tears and her lips wide in a soft smile. "How are you, Christopher?"

Christopher just shrugged, seemingly exhausted. Isabel ran a hand through his hair and then bent down to kiss his forehead and that was when he wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back tightly and spoke in low tones. Christopher was nodding, and then he pulled away and snuggled back into Buck's arms. She straightened up,  put a hand to Buck's cheek and kissed his head. He smiled up at her and she smiled back.

Ana was next, and she crouched down in front of them. Buck seemed uncomfortable now, and way out of his depth. "Christopher, Ana's here," he told the boy in his arms, and Christopher barely reacted. She didn't seem phased by it and put a hand on his arm. "Honey, do you need anything?" 

He wordlessly shook his head and in all honesty, she looked like she wanted to say something more, but she refrained. She stayed in that position, rubbing his arm gently, for a few minutes, then seemed to give up. She stood up, then took her previous seat beside Isabel. 

"Bucky?"

Buck, who had his head resting on the wall behind him, eyes closed, sat up. "Yeah?"

"When can I see my dad?"

"I don't know, but I think it's gonna be really soon."

Christopher fussed a little. "I want to see him now."

Maddie covered her face with her hands. This was not going to be pretty. Christopher started to struggle in Buck's hold, and she could see, for only a few seconds, desperation and helplessness in his eyes.

Ana, Isabel, and even Bobby stood up, ready to interfere if needed.

Buck framed Christopher's face in his hands and pulled it towards him. Christopher was hyperventilating, now. They were nearly nose to nose, and though Christopher was still struggling, it wasn't as bad as before. "Take a breath for me, Christopher. In," he took an exaggerated breath in to demonstrate, "and out," he demonstrated again. Christopher was still crying, but he complied when Buck repeated the mantra. "That's it, that's really good, Chris. I know this hurts. I know you're scared. But, we're gonna have to wait, buddy, I'm sorry."

"I don't want my daddy to die," he whispered, voice wobbling.

"Oh, buddy, he-" here he closed his eyes. Maddie suspected he didn't want to lie to the boy. "Listen, right now, he's in the best hands. And I know he's fighting so, so hard to get back to you. I know it sucks, but we just have to wait, buddy, okay? Just a little longer."

"Bucky." Buck used his hand to tuck Christopher's head into his chest, and buried his nose in the boy's hair. 

Isabel was crying at this point, and Ana had an arm around her shoulders, but her attention was solely on Buck, and there was an unreadable look on her face. 

A doctor came into the waiting room. "Family of Eddie Diaz?"

They all jumped to their feet and the doctor smiled. "You're all his family?" He asked wryly. 

Isabel stepped up. "I am Eddie's grandmother." 

The doctor looked down at his clipboard. "Is there an Evan Buckley here?"

Buck frowned and got up, Christopher still in his arms. "That's me."

"You're Mr. Diaz's power of attorney, correct?"

Maddie, along with everyone else, were stunned. Buck, however, just nodded. "Yes."

"Mr. Diaz is currently in the ICU. He suffered some-" he cut himself off as his eyes flickered over to Christopher, and Buck caught on immediately. He swallowed hard and nodded at the doctor. 

"Buddy, would you mind going with Maddie to get some snacks?"

"But I want to stay with you." 

"I know, but you need to eat something, and once you're back, we'll get to see your dad."

Christopher perked up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

.

She didn't end up taking him to the cafeteria, just to a vending machine down the hall, figuring they needed to stay close until Buck gave her the okay. 

"What are you in the mood for, kid?" She asked brightly, trying to cheer him up, and was glad when he cracked a smile. He was looking at the options and seemed to be considering it.

After a few seconds, he looked up at her. "Can I get more than one?"

"Sure, buddy, anything you want! As long as it doesn't get me in trouble with your dad when he wakes up."

He looked up at her with tearful eyes. "He's gonna wake up, right, Maddie?"

Her eyes softened. "I think he will, yes," she answered, following her brother's lead in not lying to him. She hugged him to her side, and it was a bit awkward because of her pregnant belly, but it turned out alright. "So, which ones did you want?"

He pointed first at a granola bar, then at a Reese’s cup, and finally, he pointed at a bag of sour patch kids. She brought him everything, plus a few water bottles for everyone else. And it was just in time, because she recieved a text from Buck to bring him back. 

When she got there, Buck stood up to meet them. "Thanks for taking him, Mads."

She squeezed his arm. "Of course!" 

He crouched down in front of Christopher. "We talked to your dad's doctor, and he said he'll be okay, kid." Christopher cheered and hugged him, snacks held tightly in his hands. "You can go see him now with Ana and Abuela."

Maddie and Christopher both frowned. "You're not coming?" The boy asked, and he sounded upset. 

Buck wordlessly shook his head, then he smiled wryly. "Afraid not."

"But why?"

"Chris," Buck sighed, and Maddie felt for him. It must not be easy to have to explain to Christopher why he wasn't the first one in. "Buddy, I have to talk to you about something, okay?" He changed the subject. "When you go into the room, your dad will be sleeping, but not like normal, okay? So, he won't wake up if you talk to him."

"Why?"

Buck seemed to struggle with how to answer, so Maddie jumped in.

"Because the doctors used something called a sedative to keep him asleep, so that his body can heal faster," she explained. Christopher nodded. "So, he can hear you, but won't be able to say anything. So, talk to him, okay?"

He nodded. "He's really okay?" He checked, eyes on Buck.

"He is," Buck confirmed with a bright smile. He recieved an enthusiastic hug, and when Christopher pulled away, he handed him one of the snacks. "Wha-" he looked down at the Reese's in his hand and shook his head. Maddie herself was in awe.

"Thank you, Christopher." He pressed a kiss to his head, and Maddie would have blamed her tears on the pregnancy if it wasn't for the fact that she wasn't the only one fighting back tears, she realized when she noticed Isabel looking at the two with teary eyes. Buck stood up, put a hand on the little boy's shoulder and steered him to where Isabel and Ana were waiting. 

Howie came to her and pulled her into his arms, and she felt the tension seep out of her. "You okay?"

She snuggled closer. "I am now."

When her brother came back, she took his hand. "Why didn't you go in?"

"Only two adults allowed." He smiled bitterly. "Grandma and girlfriend get dibs."

She and Chimney shared a look, and he let her go and wandered off to Bobby's side, understanding that they needed some time alone. "Oh, Buck."

"He's okay, that's what matters. I'm fine, Mads," he interrupted her, sounding like the opposite of fine. "I'm getting used to it."

"No, you're not," she countered gently. 

He was quiet for a few seconds, then shook his head. "No, I'm not," he admitted quietly. "Why can't I just get over him?" He whispered, mindful of everyone around them. "He's been dating her for two months now, and he- he seems happy with her, so why can't I just- move on?"

Maddie smiled sadly. "Because you're you." When he frowned at her, she just raised an eyebrow. "You have a hard time giving up on the things, the people, you love. Remember Ms. Whiskers?" She asked him quietly, and was pleased when that garnered a quiet laugh. "You looked for that cat for months after she disappeared."

"Made you look for it, too."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

He leaned his head on her shoulder and she gladly put her arms around him. "Thanks for being here, Maddie."

She kissed him on the forehead, hand playing with his curls. "You don't ever have to thank me for that. Now, eat your candy."

.

Buck, after a hug and a promise to keep her updated, kicked her out minutes after their talk, somehow sensing that her back was giving her hell. 

Bobby, to her relief, didn't seem to be leaving any time soon. He took her seat beside her brother and gave her a nod. 

For the next day, Buck, and suprisingly Bobby, kept her updated.

Twenty hours or so after she left the hospital, she received a text that said 'he's awake'.

Maddie was on her way to the hospital in five minutes.

.

Eddie was now in a regular room, and both Buck and Christopher were in there with him. Christopher was asleep in Buck's lap, his dad's hand clutched in both of his. They hadn't noticed her yet, and she was about to make her presence known when Eddie spoke. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For looking out for him when I couldn't. Abuela told me about it, and I-"

"Eddie," Buck interrupted him with a smile. "I'd do anything for this kid, don't you know that by now?"

Eddie sucked in a breath, and it seemed like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. "Yeah, well, knowing it and knowing it are two different things."

Buck laughed. "Maybe that concussion is more than mild? That didn't make sense."

"It did to me," Eddie protested. 

Maddie took the opportunity to knock on the door, and they both looked to her. "Hey, Mads," Buck greeted her quietly.

"Hey." She turned to Eddie and grinned. "It's good to see you awake, Eddie." 

"Thanks for coming, Maddie." He pointed at the side table, and she noticed the granola bar she and Christopher had bought. "And thanks for the snacks."

She chuckled. "No problem. He's a great kid." She told him, and noticed the proud smile on his face when he looked at his son. "He brought some for Buck, too," she teased.

Buck rolled his eyes at her, and he shook his head at her as if to tell her he was onto her. She just shrugged. 

Buck was about to say something when he dropped his phone, and she and Eddie both laughed at him, that was until he went to grab it and nearly fell out. He would've, if it hadn't been for Christopher's weight balancing him. Eddie's laughter stopped abruptly. "Hey, are you okay?" 

He waved off the concern. "I'm fine, Eddie."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Don't think I didn't see those bandages." He was a man on a mission. "When was the last time you ate, huh? When was the last time you slept?" 

"Eddie, it doesn't matter."

His face hardened. "Of course it matters, you idiot," he hissed, then turned his attention to her. "How long has he been here?"

Maddie kept her amusement to herself and answered dutifully. "He hasn't left." 

Eddie's head whipped around and he fixed Buck with a glare that should have had him trembling in fear. Instead, her brother just gave him a sheepish smile. "I had a concussion, so it was for the better that I didn't sleep?" He tried. The glare intensified. "Eddie, you were in surgery. I didn't know if you were gonna make it. I couldn't think about anything else."

"Buck- wait, I know that look," Eddie's tone changed from tender to exasperated in a second. "Tell me you're not blaming yourself for this?"

Maddie was stunned. How had he read her brother like that? How had he taken a look at him and understood? 

"Buck-"

"I let you go," Buck snapped, and he was glaring, too. Maddie, for one uncomfortable second, felt like she was intruding.

"Buck, a part of the roof fell on you. I can bet that-" he pointed at his bandaged arm, "-happened because you were holding onto me." 

Buck looked down. "Doesn't matter, I let go."

"You saved me. Bobby told me you came back in for me, Buck. If it weren't for you-" he put a hand on top of his. "Thank you, for doing everything you could to save me."

Buck sniffled, and though his eyes were red, no tears fell. He smiled at him. "You would've done the same for me."

Eddie just smiled back. He didn't say anything else; his eyes did all the talking for him. Not for the first time, she wondered why he was still with Ana when he so obviously had feelings for her brother, why both of them seemed to fight their feelings so damn hard.

She also wondered when they were going to get their heads out of their asses and see that they belonged together.

The last thing she noticed before quietly leaving the room was Eddie gently pulling his hand away from Christopher's grip and holding Buck's hand instead.

[specterchasing-a]

I Won’t Bite || Kyle & Eddie

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: The Bloody Stake

PARTIES: @darkh0wl​ & @specterchasing​

SUMMARY: A chance meeting followed by... a lot. It’s just a lot.

CONTENT: Suicidal ideations & head trauma.

It was a slow night at the Bloody Stake; just a couple regulars nursing their drinks quietly. Kyle stood behind the bar, drying glasses. He could fall asleep standing up, right there. He wouldn’t do that, of course. He was in the middle of a probationary period at work. Apparently, employers don’t like it very much when you leave without a word in the middle of a shift. They like it even less when they hear screams coming from the alleyway and find the alley covered in blood. Kyle not contacting his boss for two days after, and the boss’ car being dented by a large animal--that didn’t help his case either. Kyle was in deep shit for that. Thin fucking ice. So he dried the glasses and willed himself to find something to focus on that wasn’t how tired he was. 

Spotting someone at the bar who wasn’t a regular, Kyle’s brow furrowed. The guy looked familiar to say the least. “Hey, you’re that YouTuber, right? Didn’t we go to high school together?”

For Eddie, a night out usually meant visiting one of the many White Crest cemeteries, or perhaps the woods. When he felt particularly daring, he ventured all the way to The Bend. Tonight, however, he found himself at a bar, one with a reputation he could appreciate. Filming within The Bloody Stake would be like asking the patrons to usher him into an early grave, so he opted out of his usual role of documentarian. Instead, he seated himself at the bar and allowed the atmosphere to wash over him.

While Eddie observed the crowd in muted reverence, a voice pulled him out of his trance. “Huh?” he responded abruptly, his head snapping in the direction of the voice’s source. It took him a moment to register what had been said. “Yeah, nail on the head, that’s me,” he said fondly before his brow furrowed slightly. The employee mentioned knowing him from high school and Eddie could feel his name on the tip of his tongue. Keiran? No. Kirk? Also no. “Kyle,” he finally recalled with recognition shining in his eyes, but they quickly dimmed. 

Eddie remembered Bex screaming; the way she begged for mercy. The wolf—she called him Kyle, didn’t she? It could’ve been a coincidence, ‘Kyle’ wasn’t an unusual name, but he still felt uneasy. If this man hurt Bex, Eddie needed to do something about that, right? He forced his smile back into place. “So, how the hell are you, man? Gotten up to much since I last saw you?”

If Kyle noticed anything awry, he said nothing. His eyes drifted over Eddie, then flicked back down to the glass in hand. He’d forgotten how cute Eddie was and now his stomach fluttered with unexpected nervousness. Why was he nervous? They were just two dudes at the bar being dudes at the bar. No need to worry there. “I’m--” (Good? No, that was a lie. He definitely wasn’t good. His grip on shifting was slim at best and felt like it was getting worse every day. Fine? No, that wasn’t right either. He’d nearly killed at least one person in the past month, and had ample opportunity to do it again. That didn’t exactly constitute for good or fine.) “--hanging in there,” he said, with a smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes. “Still hanging out in this weird ass town, but I’m sure you know all about that.” Kyle wasn’t exactly a fan. He definitely wasn’t subscribed to Eddie’s channel. But he’d seen a handful of videos; enough to know that Eddie was unearthing all the mysteries of White Crest one at a time. Kyle thought it reckless to do so. The more he found out about White Crest, the more danger he was in. Setting the glass aside and picking up another, Kyle leaned against the bar. “How’s the internet fame treating you?”

Eddie’s eyes remained trained on Kyle’s face almost as if he expected to find the answers to his unspoken questions about Bex etched into his features. He noticed the smile and, more importantly, the way his eyes looked comparatively dim. Kyle didn’t seem like a vicious monster. Mostly, he just seemed kind of sad. Adulthood suited him though; he looked good despite the invisible baggage  he carried.

When Kyle mentioned Eddie’s familiarity with the weirdness of White Crest, he shrugged slightly as his smile transformed into a smirk. “Sure do, and I love every minute of it.” He adored the danger shrouding his hometown, it kept him from getting bored. The conversation shifted when Kyle put the spotlight on Eddie. “Pretty damn great, actually. I don’t… I mean, I probably wouldn’t call myself famous, but yeah. I’m really proud of what I’m doing.” His head tilted slightly as he momentarily assessed Kyle. “What about you, Kyle? Doin’ anything you’re proud of these days?” His expression harbored no ill-will, but his intentions weren’t entirely pure.

Eddie talking about himself put Kyle at ease, even for just a moment. He didn’t want to talk about himself. He didn’t want to think about himself. “You’ve had at least a couple viral videos or something, right?” he asked. “I don’t know much in the way of YouTube fame, but I’d say that’s pretty good.” He set aside another glass and picked up a third from the sink. “I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy.” He wasn’t being disingenuous, he was happy for Eddie. It wasn’t every day you found a passion you could toss yourself into as wholeheartedly as Eddie seemed to be. 

If Eddie’s responses had put Kyle at ease before, this question had the opposite effect on him. He tensed immediately, glancing up at Eddie. He half expected a taunting look or a smug smirk. Something that would indicate the question was as loaded as it felt. “Uh--” The wet glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. “Shit,” he hissed as he hurriedly started scooping up the bigger pieces with his towel. “Um, I--” What did he have to be proud of? Nothing, really. There was specifically more to be deeply ashamed of lately. “Gimme a second,” he mumbled, grabbing a nearby broom brush and dustpan, and sweeping the glass up. Once that was done, he stood back up and looked at Eddie. He couldn’t know, could he? Bex wouldn’t tell anyone. Right? “Wh-what was the question?”

The glass in Kyle’s hand fell to the floor and shattered. Eddie winced at the sound and tried not to feel guilty. A few curious patrons turned their heads to gawk at the source of the commotion. Whatever doubts Eddie had about Kyle being the Kyle dissipated. It was plain to see how guilty his conscience was. He needed to make a choice. Either, he could treat Kyle like the wolf who nearly ripped Bex to shreds, or he could treat him like the man with sad eyes and kind words.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry—forget I even asked. I should’ve known it was a kinda heavy question,” Eddie responded with an awkward laugh. “I’ve always been lousy at small talk, it’s my fatal flaw.” An unfortunate thought occurred to him, causing his lips to purse. “They’re not gonna make you pay for that, right? I’ll cover the cost, if they do. It’s the least I can do after hurling you into an existential crisis.” Eddie liked the man better than the wolf, anyway. Maybe, he could even figure out how to help bring some light back into his eyes.

Kyle’s eyes searched Eddie’s face for any sign that he knew, but then he was talking and he definitely knew. Had Bex told him? Had he asked? Was this part of being a medium, or whatever, that he didn’t understand? His stomach twisted up and his heart jumped up to his throat. “How did you…?” 

He sighed shakily. It was okay, he and Bex had never agreed to a code of silence or anything. She was free to talk about it if she wanted to. It was healthy for her, rather than keep it all bottled up. Kyle just had to breathe for a minute. Being at work, thinking about it at work—it felt wrong. It felt bad. Breathe. He just had to steady himself for a minute. It was fine. “I, uh, guess my new reputation precedes me.” His voice was even; a practiced calm. “I’m gonna go outside for a smoke. If you want to talk, you can come along. If you want. I won’t bite.”

Eddie’s heart sank when Kyle immediately saw through his attempt to conceal the truth. Before tonight, Eddie suspected he would have some choice words for Kyle should they ever meet, potentially more than words. But, now that he sat mere inches away from him, he felt sorry for him. The urge to comfort Kyle came as a surprise; he seemed so distant and alone.

“She didn’t mean to…” Eddie trailed off, he knew the bar wasn’t the right location for this discussion. Apparently, Kyle felt the same way. “Yeah, man, you got it,” he replied more enthusiastically than he intended to. He raised to his feet, smiling politely, and kept his eyes on Kyle. “Lead the way.” He tried to stop focusing on the ‘bite’ comment. Kyle may not use his teeth, but Eddie knew he had experience with causing harm in different ways.

Kyle’s hands shook as he tossed the dish towel aside. He patted his pockets, checking for his phone, lighter, and cigarettes, then headed for the front door. On his way, he brushed past the bartender, cigarette already between his lips, and mumbled “fifteen minutes.” He didn’t acknowledge Eddie, didn’t look at him, just kept walking. He needed some fresh air and he knew the other man would follow. 

Once outside, Kyle leaned up against the brick exterior of the bar. It was just breezy enough that it took him a few tries to light his cigarette. Once he got it, he took a slow drag and steadily exhaled. The deep breathing, associated with smoking, calmed his frayed nerves; at least a little. He let his head drop back against the wall and closed his eyes. Bex didn’t mean to? Eddie had said she didn’t mean to. Was it another situation like the one they had had on campus, when Morgan had needed to intervene? What had triggered it? Now Kyle had to deal with someone else knowing he was not only a werewolf, but one with a tentative grasp on control. He tried not to think about how he had mauled Bex right here; right outside this bar, just a few dozen feet away. He tried not to think about how he would have killed her if not for the mindlink that got them in this damn situation in the first place. 

After a long moment, he opened his eyes and looked at Eddie. “What do you want to know? I’m pretty sure you have questions. Shoot.” His voice did not betray his feigned calm. Maybe it wasn’t feigned tonight. Nell had given Kyle wolfsbane capsules for the full moon. He had taken a half of one a few hours before work, just to make sure nothing would go wrong. Just to make sure he’d stay calm enough to keep his job. “Did she have a panic attack?” He tried not to wince when he asked it, but his jaw tightened noticeably. 

Like most alleyways in White Crest, Eddie knew the one he now stood in well. He’d been here more than once and nothing bad ever came from his visits. In fact, most of them were complete busts as far as creating content for his channel went. He possessed no personal experiences that would turn this alley into anything other than a small stretch of cracked concrete, two towering brick walls, and a dumpster. The same couldn’t be said for Bex, who shared her injurious memory with him in vivid detail. And now, here he was, near the site of the attack with the wolf who nearly killed her.

Eddie’s hand nervously rubbed his chest as if making sure Bex didn’t share her wounds with him too. He’d been doing that a lot lately. The stench of cigarette smoke infiltrated his airways and inspired a fleeting grimace to appear on his face. Kyle asked a question; he sounded farther away than he should have. Eddie took a breath and silently reprimanded himself for not staying grounded.

“Yeah, she did,” Eddie replied to Kyle’s second question; he still needed to grapple with the first. He figured out a way to buy himself some time. “We were in an alley kind of like this one and then everything went sideways. I tried to help, but… I didn’t do a great job.” He cut the story off there. Bex said she and Kyle were friends, but that didn’t mean he knew about her magical abilities. “Question number one,” he said, backtracking to his offer. “You’re a werewolf. I’m sorry about whatever struggles that come with that, but you have a responsibility to keep people safe from you. Why didn’t you take precautionary measures to make sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone?”

The confirmation that Bex had had yet another panic attack because of Kyle’s actions was hard to hear. His shoulders sank, but his expression didn’t change. No doubt, Eddie had seen Bex’s waking nightmares, just like all those students in the campus café. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how many people he’d scarred after one bad night. They say the beating of butterfly wings can create a hurricane; Kyle had surely set a dozen or more in motion. Like some twisted King Midas, he left pain in his wake. Everyone he touched was worse off. He pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry here in front of someone he’d just started talking to. It didn’t help that Eddie had made him the good kind of nervous. Kyle opened his mouth to say something, anything in response. He was at a loss for words and only managed a pained, “I’m sorry.” 

If the realization that he was still Bex’s nightmare had hurt him, that first unexpected question was a punch to the gut. Kyle’s hand dropped from his face and he looked up at Eddie now. The tears he had been holding back made his lashes stick together as they slid down his face. His eyes held a primal rage that he was struggling to quench. “How dare—,” he barked, voice louder than expected. He sucked in a breath, clenching his fists. He had all but forgotten the cigarette he had been holding until the heat from it registered. He dropped the crushed cigarette with a hiss. Good, the pain was good. It grounded him for just a moment. 

When he spoke next, his voice was quieter, but dripped with malice. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t know anything about me or how hard it’s been going this alone.” Kyle knew his anger wasn’t justified. He knew Eddie was right; he’d been a danger this whole time. It was a wonder he hadn’t cracked sooner. But to hear it from someone completely outside of the situation, to hear his own guilt weaponized against him—Kyle couldn’t bear it. Focus on the pain. Focus on your breathing. 

The good thing about wolfsbane was that it kept Kyle drowsy and feeling inebriated at best. The bad thing, and there were many bad things to choose from, was that it didn’t prevent a shift, and he wasn’t working with a full dose. He had maybe a few minutes, at most, to slow this train of thought before it detailed him completely. That would be easier said than done as Kyle’s heart rate picked up and his breathing became increasingly shallow.

The realization that his question struck a nerve hit Eddie immediately upon seeing the look in Kyle’s eyes. The tone of his voice hammered the point in even further. Every muscle in his body tensed as he wondered whether or not he and Kyle would be reenacting the night with Bex. The only difference between now and then being that there was no one around to save Eddie. People didn’t respond to cries for help in White Crest, the residents were either desensitized to them or preferred to pretend they didn’t hear them. If Kyle attacked Eddie, he would die. That probably should’ve scared him more than it did.

“Actually, I know a lot about being alone.” His brain didn’t care what happened next, but Eddie’s body was eager to stay alive. Adrenaline coursed through him, his hands shook, and  nervous sweat broke out near his hairline. No matter how badly his instincts told him to run, he kept his feet firmly planted where he stood. Stupid or brave, he didn’t really care either way. “And I know a lot about feeling like I can’t handle that feeling of being alone.” It somehow felt like a timer was counting down-to-zero in Kyle’s head. How long did he have left?

“But, you are right about one thing. I don’t know you, not well, anyway. If you don’t kill me, I think I might like to, but that’s feeling like a very big ‘if’ right now.” Eddie swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “I crossed a line I didn’t know was there and I’m sorry for that. For the sake of you not having to explain to Bex what you did to my body after the wolf is gone and you turn back into a pretty decent guy who got dealt a shitty hand, I hope I’m with you when you walk back into the bar.” Eddie watched Kyle closely, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each breath. 

Kyle’s heart was about to beat right out his goddamn chest. He clutched at it, his whole body shaking now. Breathe. Eddie was talking, but he sounded far away. Like he was at the other end of a long hallway. His words reverberated through Kyle’s head. What he was saying hit a little too close to home. Particularly, the bit about feeling like he couldn’t handle being alone. Kyle knew that feeling well. If he was in a more sensible state of mind, he might’ve actually hugged the man. 

If you don’t kill me. Kyle didn’t want to kill Eddie. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but Eddie was so tantalizingly accessible right now, and Kyle was falling apart. He buried his face in his palms. The streetlights were too bright. They buzzed too loud. Eddie’s voice was too loud, too. Breathe. Feeling overstimulated, Kyle turned his back to the medium. He tried to walk away, he tried to put ground between himself and Eddie. It was a losing battle before he’d begun, and he fell to his knees. His palms scraped along the concrete beneath them. Breathe. Focus on the sting. He screwed his eyes tightly shut. 

It was too late. Kyle’s body was already ripping itself apart to build it back up. He grit his teeth to hold back any noises of pain as he shifted. When he opened his eyes again, they had to readjust to the streetlights. Kyle was panting now, his tongue lolling to the side. He stretched and shook out his fur. The shift had taken it out of him. Whatever energy he had left after taking wolfsbane earlier in the night, it was all but gone now. Unsteadily, Kyle got to all fours and     rounded on Eddie. His dagger-sharp teeth were bared and a low growl escaped his parted lips. He wobbled as he took a step towards the man before him. Kyle was dizzy now. The wolf blinked rapidly, trying to regain himself. He swayed in place, clearly struggling to maintain balance.

A small part of Eddie had hoped that talking to Kyle would prevent this from happening. As the transformation happened before his very eyes, he realized how much of a fucking idiot he was. Eddie had the gift of gab, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing a story about someone talking an animal out of mauling them. As far as self-preservation went, he was lacking. Despite the fear gripping his heart and the incontestable urge to run, morbid curiosity made him wonder what would happen if he just… stood there. On the bright side, it would probably be a quick death.

But then Eddie thought about Kyle; the smile that didn’t reach his eyes, the glass shattering on the floor, his guilt and anger. If the wolf killed him, how much deeper into self-loathing would Kyle sink. And, fuck, what about Bex? He told her he would be more careful. At the thought of her, he instinctively took a step back. Much to his surprise, life without people who might mourn him was a lot simpler.

Eddie quickly went over his options. Running into the bar would be baiting a werewolf into a public space and he wasn’t fast enough to run past him. What else could he do? His eyes snapped to the dumpster in his peripheral vision. He’d never moved anything that big with his mind before and the chances of succeeding now seemed slim, but at least he could say he tried to survive. 

He focused hard on the dumpster, slowly backing further away from the wolf. It felt like every muscle in his body was being pushed to its limit, but the dumpster began to slide against the concrete. He inhaled deeply, extended his hand, and whipped the dumpster at Kyle as hard as he could, slamming him against the alley’s wall. 

The wolf stalked forward, wobbly as he may be, slowly trying to close the gap between himself and his prey. If there was any part of Kyle that remained consciously human, he didn’t show it. He watched as his prey panicked. He could smell the fear as Eddie tried to find a way out. Kyle paused when he felt close enough. He eyed Eddie’s throat, mouth flooding with saliva. His body tensed, ready to strike. He was so in the zone, that he didn’t register the sound of the dumpster beginning to scoot across the alleyway towards him. He only realized what was happening a moment too late. Kyle’s head whipped to the side and he braced himself mere seconds before the dumpster had collided with him. He slammed against the wall with a sickening crunch and let out a pained yelp. Pinned between the wall and the dumpster, Kyle’s claws scrambled across the pavement in front of him, as he tried to drag himself out to no avail. He wheezed and whimpered, trying to push back against the heft of the dumpster. 

Eddie didn’t feel proud of what he did to Kyle. The yelp and obvious desperation he felt trying to  free himself  Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. “Really sorry about this, Kyle,” he said, voice strained from the amount of effort it took to keep the dumpster in place. He moved closer to the pinned wolf. With each step, Eddie felt like his legs might buckle under the sheer amount of exertion needed to propel him forward. 

He knew he couldn’t leave, not if Kyle sustained any significant injuries from the impact, but lasting much longer seemed impossible. Eddie’s vision began to blur as he stood in front of Kyle. “Turn back, turn back, please just fucking turn back,” he pleaded though clenched teeth.

Kyle’s panic and desperation grew the longer he was stuck. He shoved back against the dumpster as hard as he could, but he was exhausted already. He couldn’t keep up the fight and he slumped down, motionless. As soon as it had come, just like that, the storm had passed. What was left in its wake was a less than fully conscious Kyle, his clothes ribboned around him. A thin trail of blood trickled along the curve of his jaw. He’d smacked his head fairly hard, and gained a sizable, but not serious, gash. The sound of a dumpster slamming into the wall would surely be enough of a commotion to alert bar staff and patrons, who would be there soon, if they weren’t already on their way.

At the sight of Kyle’s human form, limp and possibly broken, Eddie used the last of his strength to drag the dumpster far enough away from him to allow him access behind it. He stumbled to Kyle’s side, weak and disoriented, and tucked himself underneath one of his arms. Eddie avoided looking at his recently exposed skin as best he could while he hoisted him onto his feet. He wobbled dangerously under Kyle’s weight before miraculously finding his footing again. “We can’t stay here,” Eddie grunted. Trouble was, he couldn’t exactly drag an essentially naked man through a packed bar either, especially not one who looked barely alive.

“Walk with me, please,” he quietly begged as he led Kyle through the alleyway as quickly as he could. At the mouth of the alleyway, Eddie could see his car. At the same time, he heard a door swing open behind him. “Oh, fuck me,” he mumbled as he hobbled as quickly as he could to the passenger’s side door. He quickly ushered Kyle into the seat and slammed the door. Not wanting to waste any time, he booked it to the other side and took his place in the driver’s seat, peeling onto the road as quickly as he could. 

Eddie glanced over at Kyle, unsure whether or not he was at all conscious. “I don’t—is the hospital even an option for you?” He imagined it would be tough to conceal his accelerated healing. 

Kyle blinked in minute long intervals. His feet shuffled along with Eddie as best as he could manage, which wasn’t great. He curled in on himself with a groan as soon as he was seated in the car. That was the first time he became vaguely aware of his surroundings. The sudden movement of the car was disorienting and Kyle had to close his eyes to keep his bearings. He pressed his cheek against the cold glass of the window. The glass felt nice against his fevered skin as he still sweat with the exertion he’d just put in. The blood that flowed down the side of his face was now smeared across the window. That was something he would want to take care of when he was a little more awake. He wouldn’t want to make a mess of Eddie’s car. 

“Where—,” he mumbled, brow creased together. He couldn’t go to the hospital, that was for sure. If they called his emergency contacts, he’d be pretty well fucked. His parents and stepdad didn’t need to get involved in this. On top of that, there was a lot of explanation required at the hospital, and that was something neither he nor Eddie could provide. Kyle was having trouble forming the words to say any of this, though. He mumbled, “N-no. No hospital,” before he was out for at least another few moments. 

Every inch of Eddie’s body ached, his head felt like it might split open, and his nerves were shot. The road before him went in and out of focus as he drove—if he couldn’t pull himself together, his shitshow of a night would end in a collision. Kyle was clearly struggling to answer him coherently, leaving him unsure about how he should proceed until, finally, he managed to utter what Eddie needed to hear. 

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, nodding his head as he realized what he needed to do. “I’m gonna take you home with me, Kyle. I’m gonna take care of this, I promise. Please, just… please, be okay.” His eyes snapped to his passenger for a sign that he was listening, but he was out cold. Fresh tears stung Eddie’s eyes as they returned to the road. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.