#Counselor Kelley

[spookystarfishzombie]

[greenfiend]

Everyone has been sleeping on Ms. Kelley tbh…

[lighthouseas]

going INSANE actually because ms kelley has a ticking clock in the shape of a lock in her house

(ass quality photo because it was taken on my phone so. ignore that)

[jonathanbyersphd]

Regarding your frog heist fic: I feel the need to tell you that, when I first started reading your excerpt where Jonathan talks to Ms. Kelley, my first thought was "oh, no, he got caught doing unhinged nature boy things and someone finally made him talk to a counselor about that specifically!" I love that passage as it is, but I also keep laughing at the idea of the frog heist being the last straw for some authority figure or another.

Miss Kelley upon seeing 60 frogs vanish overnight: Oh he needs professional HELP

[soren-gravestone-baltimore]

Ehehe...hehe...hello, future disciple!

I am the prophet Soren Baltimore! Former counselor at Camp Here & There, currently residing in a new universe. Child of the Mother of Death, as well as the Mother of Ground.

You may refer to me as te/ter/tem/ters/temself, thi/thim/thits/thimself, or hy/hymn/hys/hymnself.

I look forward to meeting you all, fellow children of Mother!

//ooc: i was feeling a little silly so i made a fucking. tmaverse au version of soren baltimore. my beloved little freak princess

main is @thermodynamic-comedian, other rp blogs are @fairchild-isnt-my-actual-name and @lena-kelley-oiar

[fiori7ura]

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

[pearlypairings]

Let the Light In

~chapter update! ~

Pairing: jonathan byers x chrissy cunningham

Tags: angst to fluff, Chrissy pov, sequel fic, eventual happy ending

Chapter 3- Silently Screaming synopsis: Chrissy returns to Ms. Kelley's therapy after winter break with a lot on her mind and important decisions to make.

Link to ao3

Sneak peak below the cut!

Chrissy’s nail beds were bitten to shreds, a nasty habit both her and her mother felt the same way about. They hated it for different reasons, of course, but still a rare case of them agreeing on anything that had to do with her life. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help herself. Winter break was hardly a “break” from any of the thoughts bothering her, and now she had to face reality back at school. Reality, of course, being the guidance counselor in front of her who won’t stop trying to peel back the layers that she placed so carefully for her survival. It was getting harder and harder not to give in to her counselor’s commitment to get her to spill all of what bubbled underneath.  “So how was your break, Chrissy? Were you able to keep up with the dream journal we discussed last time?” The notebook sank heavy into her lap with pages stuffed full of memories she’d rather forget than relive. The journal was meant to track the nightmares she’d been having of Grandad and maybe help her notice any patterns or bigger themes her mind was trying to relay.

All she noticed was that the dreams were getting worse and more frequent.

Thanks, Miss Kelley...... Continues on ao3:)

Thank you for being so patient with this fic, I missed reading your comments and hearing from yall in my ask inbox ❤️❤️❤️ please feel free to chat with me and gush about these dorks 🥰

[theladybarnes]

DON’T YOU WANT ME, BABY? : CHAPTER FOUR

“Mistakes have been made.”

▸ summary: a happy reunion happens, but boy drama ruins it all ▸ characters: steve harrington, billy hargrove, max mayfield, & the party ▸ word count: 4.8k     ▸ warnings: angst, toxic exes, and general billy behavior ▸ series masterlist

The clock in Ms. Kelley’s office ticked loudly in the empty room, making you slightly more irritated as you continued to wait out for your counselor. 

 It was only a minute back to your group at gym class that Coach Duffer sent you to leave class early and go into the main office of the school. Something you didn’t think over until you were coming through the threshold with wet hair that soaked the top of your blouse. Could they not have given you at least a second to towel dry your hair?

 “Alright, Miss Henderson.” Ms. Kelley chimed as she entered the room. “While I’m always happy to see you, I’m afraid I’m a bit unsettled by today’s visit.” 

 “You and me both, Ms. Kelley. Which is why I think we should reconvene on better circumstances and call it a day!” you clapped, going as far as to pick up your bag from the floor. The cheery tone only caused her to raise a brow as she settled into her seat across from you. 

 “Miss Henderson, it’s clear to me that today was quite the off day for you. Did something happen before school? Are you feeling alright?”

 There was no good answer that you could give to the poor counselor. Was it the weird sex dream? The hangover? The boys who lie? How do you give her the gist of all that and come off as sane?

 Bringing your hand up, you rub gently at your chin. Normally in court, you would plead a case and go through a million questions before allowing the jury to come to a conclusion. But with Ms. Kelley playing judge, jury, and executioner, you had to go about this differently.

 “Guilty,” you sighed. “I’m not feeling well. And my severe actions deserve their proper consequences.” Leaning forward, you tilt your head towards the women, giving your best sorry face you could muster. “I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit.”

 The thought up answer didn’t seem to satisfy Ms.Kelley. In fact, it made her frown harder as she jotted down a few things on her notepad. “Ms. Henderson, you flipped off a teacher, yelled at two students, and hurt one with a basketball. You mean to tell me that you want to play all that off from not feeling well?”

 Sensing that there was a need for a small bit of honesty, you let out one piece of information that could hopefully close this case. “Well, that and some of the boys are spreading lies about the tellings of my personal sex life.” 

 Her jaw slacked a bit, pen falling to the side before she scrambled to pick it back up in her hand. “That is a serious accusation, Ms. Henderson. Are you sure that’s the reason?” 

 “Well, it’s definitely the main one.”

 A sour sort of look spread over her face and she looked between you and her notepad for a second before she tore off the paper and threw it in the trash can beside her. “I need you to apologize to Coach Duffer for the unsavory hand sign you gave him, and clean up the gym after practice today for Coach Troy for disrupting his class.”

 To say you were shocked was understatement, but you certainly don't question it as you stood up from your seat. Holding onto your bag tightly to leave before she changed her mind. “Sounds like a reasonable punishment, Ms. Kelley.” 

 “I also want to let you know you’re free to come talk to me if anyone else starts spreading more misinformation, okay?”

 “You got it, Ms. K!”

 You made your way over to the door, giving the woman a thankful wave as she called out one more request to you. 

 “And please don’t attack any more boys!”

  While Ms. Kelley had given you a break today, most of the day seemed to go on longer than you expected. During lunch you had a hard time finding Jonathan, needing to be with someone who isn't currently judging you. But that ended up being a bust. Then when it came around time for you to clean up the gym, Coach Troy seemed to purposely drag out practice. 

 Though you spent a good chunk of the day avoiding conversing with others, you couldn’t help but feel bad as you finished cleaning up. Most of the other students were a bit wary of you. Possibly worried they’d be the next target in your yelling spree. Although not everyone seemed to get the hint. Considering you did see Steve by your locker earlier that day. And while you’d like to maybe talk things over with him, it was best not to add fuel to that fire. 

 It was nearing the evening when you finally left the gym. The winter sky had turned dark blue due to the time change. Since Jonathan seemed to disappear from school grounds today, you were stuck taking the long way home. Something you’d definitely be complaining to him on the phone tonight.

 Just as you get on your bike and down the long driveway of the school, you’re about to pass the middle school’s joint hill when you first notice them. Or mostly notice her. The group you now know as your cousin’s “party” were all crowded together on the front steps. Each of them looked worried while the young girl looked confused. 

 “Maximilian! As I live and breathe!” 

 The boys all look over at you with a curious look before the redhead lets out a chuckled sort of gasp. “No way!” She said, rushing down the steps. “You’re here too?”

 Her body colliding with yours nearly took you off your bike, making you giggle as you wrapped your arms around her figure. It’s been quite a while since you’ve seen the young girl and you’re happy seeing her in different circumstances. 

 “Is this where you went to?!” Max exclaimed, moving to look you over. “You still look the same.”

 “Well moving would never stop me from looking good.”

 Giving her a once over, you smile at the sight of her slightly Tom boyish style seeping through in fall clothing. She was always more bright and sunny back in California. You wonder if she’s struggling with the cold as much as you did.

 “How the hell do you guys know each other?” Dustin blurted, stepping down the steps to join at your side. “And why are you at the school so late?”

 Frowning you point a finger at him sternly. “I’m here because it’s none of your business and I know her because she's from back home.” 

 “She used to date my step-brother before she dumped him.” 

 “You have a brother?” Mike asked, a familiar look of displeasure on his face as he crossed his arms. 

 “Step-brother.” you both corrected him. 

 Turning back to the others you can’t help but feel their tension. “Are you guys hanging out together?” Peeking, you notice someone missing. “Why are you guys here so late? Where’s Will?”

 Max scrunched her nose, pushing a fiery lock behind her ear. “I’m not hanging out with these guys. They were stalking me. And Will just—“ 

 She’s cut off with a harsh nudge from Dustin. The slight push caused her to bump into you, making you nearly trip off your bike. “Geez!” she whispered, looking over at him with wide eyes. You can’t help but notice that they’re keeping something from you.

 “Hmph,” you hummed, looking over at the group. “You guys are acting weirder than usual.” 

 Lucas stepped up with a sorry sort of smile on his face. “Uh we’re not, just worried about Will. His Mom had to come pick him up because he went into another weird episode.” The rest of the boys turned back into a slightly worried expression.

Jonathan had told you before how Will would become spacey sometimes, but lately it seemed like things were going backwards in his development. 

 Nodding your head, you place a hand down on Max’s shoulder, giving her a small smile. “He’s going through things. He'll be better in no time.” It wasn’t easy to lie to her, but considering you didn’t want to involve someone else in the mess from last year, you’d have to tough it out to protect her.

 “Considering we’re not clouded by smoke from Billy, I’m guessing you’re gonna take your board home.” 

 Max peered over your shoulder to see across where the parking lot was. “Asshole.” she muttered before looking back at you. “I guess I am.”

 Turning to the boys who were trying to huddle together, you pointed over to the bike rack. “Let’s get going! We’ll all ride together.” They all groaned a bit, hating the break up of their little get together. “Nuh uh, I won’t have any of that bitching, twerps. It’s gonna get dark and we don't need to be here a minute longer.” 

 Max ran back inside to quickly grab her backpack from her locker, leaving you alone with the boys for a second to quickly discuss what you couldn’t before. 

 “So, do you guys think Will is okay? I thought he was getting treatments or something down at the Lab?”

 “We have no clue.” Mike sighed, adjusting his footing on the bike pedal. “He was off on Halloween and today he totally seized out on us. I wish we just had some clear answer.” The other two boys nodded, looking back at the school door to spot out for Max. 

 “And what about Max?” you asked, catching their gazes again. “What is she doing in the mix of all this?”

 “Geez, you sound like you don’t want us to hang out with her.” Dustin scoffed, gripping onto his bike handle tightly. 

 “As much as I’d love for her to have friends she can punk around like you guys, I’m worried she might get involved in something that’s too big for her. Like you guys already are.”

 Mike frowned a bit at that. “She’s not a part of the party. Don’t worry.”

 There’s a slight disdain in Mike’s tone. Which you’re pretty familiar with, but it felt slightly unwarranted since he’s most likely known Max for less than a week. “Okay, noted.” you chuckled, making him shrug his shoulders.

 The heavy door creaked loudly as Max pushed her way out. Bright hair blowing in the wind as she placed the board down on the ground. “Alright, you guys okay?” she panted, noticing the change in the group’s demeanor. The boys gave you a glance before you smiled over at Max. 

 “Yup! Let’s get going!” You called out, turning your bike to lead the way. It was just in time to miss the look of suspicion from her blue eyes.

  To your surprise, when you finally got home with Dustin, Tina had been waiting on the phone. Wanting to hear the details of what happened after you left the gym class. Mostly because the rumor mill must have had some missing details.

 Your vague answers did little to satisfy her, but she was willing enough to share the news of Billy having come over to them at lunch. Claiming he wanted to spend some time with Vicki that day. It would seem he was finally over you and therefore making Tina accept you back into her inner circle for now.

 The phone call left you with a sort of sick feeling.

 After a few attempts of trying to call Jonathan, you gave up for the night. Eating dinner quickly to get into bed early that night. All you could hope for was tomorrow being a better day without any trouble.

  “Did you hear about your little weirdo and Nancy Wheeler?”

 You had barely been able to get your book out of the locker when Tina and Vicki came into your line of vision. “No, can’t say I know what you’re talking about.” The brunette raised a brow, leaning against the metal door with a slight smirk.

 “Some say they ditched early the other day. Left around lunch.”

 “Others say they ran away together because they’re secretly in love!” Vicki giggled.

 You stole a glance over to the locker beside you. Usually you managed to avoid the girl when getting your books, but now and then you’d see her there. But now that you’ve thought about it, it’s been three periods and you haven’t even seen her or Jonathan yet.

 “I doubt that’s what’s going on.”

 “Enlighten us, babydoll.” said a deep, agitating, grating voice. 

 The metal locker door creaked as he slowly shut it to reveal Billy’s face. The toothy grin plastered on his face as he annoyingly chewed gum loudly. “The girls and I have been trying to figure it out since first period.” 

 The other two giggled a bit, even going as far to twirling a piece of their hair as they nodded eagerly. Unfortunately, with the lack of contact from either person, you couldn’t give any of them the truth.

 “They’re friends. Probably skipped the day to go hang out.” you shrugged, trying to play it off coolly. “Is that suddenly a crime?” 

 The two girls seemed slightly to agree before Billy scooted in closer, placing his arm across your shoulder as he leaned in to you. “We both know that Wheeler recently dumped Harrington too. You mean to tell me she’s not trying to rebound onto this Jonathan guy?”

 Did Nancy break up with Steve? Was the reason why he had been crying at the party? Had it been yesterday when she went into the gym after you left? 

 Something in your face must have given off the confusion because suddenly the two girls are giggling at you. Playfully pushing at your shoulder. “It seems not even Byers’ only friend would know what the hell is going on.” Vicki said, making Tina smirk slightly in amusement. 

 “Poor thing.” Billy cooed. “I should help her catch up. We’ll see you guys at lunch.” he winked, waving them off with his free hand. You silently pleaded with your eyes, even shaking your head a bit to get them to stay. But the two giggled at Billy, ignoring your pleas as they waved goodbye to the two of you. Billy finally released you from his grip, allowing you to take a small step back. He remained cocky as he slid to lean against the locker.

 “What is your damage, Billy? Since when do you care about gossip?”

 “I care when it involves our friends.”

 “God, they are not your friends.” you spat, rolling your eyes. “They’re like your obsessed followers.” 

 The comment made him chuckle, rubbing his hands together in front of him as he gave off a meek shrug. “What can I say? They adore me here. Not like they have anyone else to look up to considering Harrington is nothing but a loser these days.”

 Something didn’t sit right with you to hear Billy talk about Steve that way. He didn’t know why he had fallen out with his friends. And while he wasn’t sitting with the same group of people, there were some who still held him in high regard. So why did Billy’s words bother you so much?

 “So,  if the competition is low, why bother with checking out rumors that don’t mean squat to you?”

 “Well for one, competition is still competition. And two,” Billy leaned in, a dark cast over his light eyes as he pointed a finger at you. “because it matters to you.”

 You frowned down at his finger. “It doesn’t matter to me. I hate the guy. Anyone will tell you that.”

 “And yet he likes you.”

 There was no way in hell Billy did not hit his head on the way into Indiana. Because at this point in time, even a child could tell that Steve Harrington only had eyes for Nancy Wheeler. Shaking your head, you look at Billy skeptically. “You’ve been here less than a week and think that?” you laughed, turning to go towards your next class. “I think you need a new informant because he is definitely not into me.”

 “I have eyes, no need for clarification.” he sighed. “I’ve also been told by Tommy that you like him too. Since you came into town.”

 Your sneakers squeak against the floor as you quickly turn to face Billy. Eyes glaring hard on him. “Tommy Hagan was practically trying to get real estate up Steve Harrington’s ass last year and you want to believe one of his deranged rumors?”

 “He says you were practically all over him despite his attempts to get with Nancy.”

 Laughing loudly, you shake your head at the boy. “I hung out with Tommy and his scheming girlfriend for one week and they came up with that shit?” Billy only stared at you with his calculating eyes, trying to pick out the lie in your words like he usually did with others. But you know him well enough now to cover up what you didn’t need for him to know.

 “The three of them were assholes and I was done with all their bullshit by the weekend. When they figured I wasn’t going to hang out with them anymore, they decided to campaign against me.” 

 “Because you’re so worth lying about?” Billy asked, cocking his head to the side.

 “What can I say, Billy? People tend to act a certain way when it comes to me.” 

 Your words seem to work because Billy chuckled lightly, nodding his head a bit before he extended a hand towards the direction you were going before. “Just thought I’d ask about it. I’m only looking out, babydoll.” The nickname made you cringe lightly. 

 “Well I don’t need you to look out for me.”

 “Oh I know,” he smirked, waving you off. Not waiting for your leave, he turned to walk down the opposite direction. But not without giving you what felt like a warning.

 “I’m looking out for me.”

  As of this week, the school day left you falling into a funk. Not only were most of your friends icing you out because of Billy, but Jonathan really did skip out on the day. Leaving your lunch plans practically dead. 

 It wasn’t until you were inside the cafeteria, holding a plastic food tray tightly in your hands that you suddenly felt ill. 

 Never in all your high school life had you been such an outcast. You had so many friends back home. But as of right now, the idea of being friends with anyone felt like a risk. Were they going to leave you too? Was there anyone you could trust anymore?

 Not one for letting your real emotions show, you cock your head up, ignoring some of the leering eyes of the student body as you made your way to one of the center tables that had been abandoned. You’d eat quickly, but confidently. With no signs of discomfort on your face. That way no one could get the satisfaction of thinking they made you feel bad.

 You pulled out a magazine from your bag, placing it down in front of you so that you could keep your attention focused on something other than the students around you. But just as you had begun to eat into the school’s overheated pizza slice, another person slid on the seat across from you.

 “We need to talk.”

 You kept your eyes down on the page rereading the same paragraph of the quiz ‘who your celeb soulmate is’ as you ignored the boy across from you. “Don’t really see what we have to talk about.” you mused, turning the page for results. 

 “Would the fact that everyone keeps talking about us not be good enough reason?” 

 “Nope.” You drawed out, frowning down at the paper. “Damn, I got Tom Cruise. I wanted Michael J. Fox.”

 The magazine is snatched from your line of vision. Making you snap your head up to finally look at your unwanted guest. “Give that back, Steve! I have to find out if Tom Cruise likes what I do!” 

 Steve folded the paper over, giving you an exasperated look before leaning in close. “You can figure all that out later. We gotta get these rumors under control.” 

 Blowing air through your nose, you keep your composure under control as you begin to pick at your lunch. Eating bits of the pizza with your fork. “Us sitting together is just gonna make things worse.” 

 “That’s what I’m talking about! We should be able to do things like sit next to each other without it meaning anything.” 

 Leaning back against your chair, you raise a brow at Steve. “Well, get Nancy to help clear some of the air. She’s a part of this as much as we are.” 

 His face fell at the mention of the girl. Suddenly emotional, he reached over to your lunch, ripping a chunk of pizza off as he chewed on it harshly. “We can’t go to Nancy right now.” 

 Glaring at the now torn off piece, you try and move past his sudden indulging of your lunch. “Well no, I know she’s not here today. But tomorrow..”

 “No, we can’t go to Nancy right now because..she and I are fighting.” 

 “Okay, so make up with her.”

 “It’s not that easy, trouble.” 

 Something was telling you that you’d regret going on with this conversation but your curiosity had a better hold on you than you thought. “Well why the hell not? You guys are practically making out in the hallway these days. Just bring her flowers and make up already.” 

 Steve, having grown more annoyed, leaned towards the table, brows furrowed as he spoke softly. “I can’t just make up with her because she thinks we killed Barb.” 

 Pushing your tray aside, you move to lean close to him. Not wanting to risk anyone hearing the conversation now. “What the hell do you mean? Is this why you were crying the other night?!” you hissed. 

 “I was not crying…but yes. Among other things.”

 “Like what?”

 He looked hesitant at first before he dived into a brief explanation of the night. And you were unfortunately correct on them being off from the start. But you really didn’t expect the last part. “..Apparently, we were never in love, I’m bullshit, and now she’s run off with Jonathan out of town.”

“Shit.” you said, reeling back a bit. The two of you have a bit of a stare down as you try to think of how exactly you were supposed to reply to that. While you had your own problems with Steve. 

 What Nancy was blaming him for was unfair. No one could have figured that Barb would be taken by a demogorgon that night. It was just a party, where stupid teens were supposed to make stupid decisions. How could the blame be on either of them for something that wasn’t even a part of this world?

 “I’m sorry,” reaching out, you placed your hand gingerly on top of his. Feeling the warmth from his palms as his fingers twitched from the contact. “It’s not your fault..I hope you know that.”

 Steve’s lips parted slightly, words being suddenly taken from him as his gaze moved between your hand and your face. Turning the hand over, he gently allowed your fingers to slip into his. Only for a second before he gave a squeeze. “Thanks.”

 Figures that the one time you’re actually having something of a nice moment with Steve it has to do with you comforting him about Nancy. But a small selfish part of you is lingering onto the way his touch feels to you right now. 

 “I know I’m probably the last person you think would suggest this. But maybe we can find a way to figure out where Nancy and Jonathan are. Help figure out what mess they’ve gotten into-”

 “You know Harrington. When I mentioned leaving behind some girls for you, I wouldn’t have expected you go after my girl of all people.” The chair beside you screeches loudly as Billy plops down beside you. The strong scent of his Aramis making you nearly gag as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Steve is quick to drop your hand as he leaned back in his chair, glaring over at Billy.

 “Okay, first off. I am not your girl. Second, what the hell are you on about, Billy?” Pushing his arm off, you turn a bit to face him. Though his tone was playful, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar look of fire behind his eyes. He was upset.

 “Lover boy here is obviously having some relationship problems as we’ve discussed.”

Steve’s brown eyes snapped to you, giving you a questioning look as Billy went on. “I thought I gave him some humbling advice but he clearly ran off with it.” 

 “God, do you ever stop talking?” Steve muttered in disbelief. 

 “No, he lacks the capacity to have any sort of tact.” 

 “Others would say I'm just brutally honest.” Billy interjected, attempting to make a point. But all you and Steve did was scoff in reply. 

 Scooting your chair away from his side, you turned to face him better. Not needing to be plagued by his close scent anymore. “What asinine advice did you give Steve?”

 “Easy, I told him there was plenty of girls–”

 “Not the word I remember hearing.”

 Billy blinked hard, nose flaring before he went on. “That he should move on and find some other bitch to help him forget Wheeler.” The harsh words made your face twist uncomfortably. “And like I mentioned before, I didn’t think he’d do that with you of all people.”

 You couldn’t help but recall the conversation you had with Billy earlier in the hall. His comments about Steve possibly liking you felt so out of pocket. Even now, right before he had come in and invaded your conversation. All you and Steve were doing was talking about how upset he was because of Nancy.

 “Who she talks to is none of your business.” Steve said suddenly. “From what she’s told me, she dumped you last year, leaving you a mess back in California.” 

 “Oh is that what she said?” Billy asked, followed with a dark chuckle that you knew was being led to a worse reaction. “What else do you suddenly know about her?”

 “I know she’s obviously grossed out by you and yet all you’ve done since you’ve gotten here is invade her space, man. It’s like you aren’t getting the hint.” Steve countered, almost leaning across the whole table with how close he got.

 “Really! You of all people are able to grasp hints all of a sudden!”

 “Believe me, I’m not the only one seeing the signs. She’s practically crawling away from you every time you’re by her.”

 “And just how many times are you watching whenever I talk with her? She’s my girlfriend!”

 “She’s not!”

 “ENOUGH!” you yelled, suddenly pushing your chair back. The cafeteria deafens as the students around you notice the drama that's at your table. “I’ve about had it with you two!” 

 Both boys’ jaws dropped as they noticed your sudden anger. It wouldn’t be the first time that either one of them has dealt with your fury and from the way they act it certainly wouldn’t be the last. And while you hated the idea of having an audience, you could not hold back anymore.

 “For the last and final time, Billy. I am NOT your girlfriend. You’re an egotistical man-whore who needs a god damn reality check! Leave me the hell alone!” The blonde nearly paled through his tan complexion as his eyes flickered to those around him. 

 Your gaze turned to Steve, making him nearly jump in his seat as his face almost mirrored the same look from last year when you gave him a piece of your mind. And while the anger wanted to come out, a part of you held back. “We’re not friends.” The words felt heavy when you saw Steve’s face fall. “I don���t need you to defend me and I definitely don’t need you to speak for me.”

 Turning the students around you, you cock your chin out, letting out a calm breath before speaking again. “Shows over, assholes!” And with that the other students quickly diverted their attention back to their meals, not willing to be the next target in your tirade. 

 Grabbing your bag from the table, you quickly gather your tray, and push in your chair. Steve defeatedly holds up the magazine to you, making you swallow at the sight before you snatched it from his hands. 

 The stress of dealing with petty high school drama was beginning to get the best of you. And for the second time in your life, you’re walking away from telling off Steve Harrington. And like last time, it’s left you questioning just how you really felt about him.

a/n: pls be kind. this chapter was such a struggle for me 🥹 

[thetargaryenbride]

Nail To The Coffin - S4 - Chapter 4

Warnings: confronting trauma

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 5857

𝐀𝐍: 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 :)

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐎𝐎𝐂 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

“It was here…Right here!” said Max as she pointed her flashlight at the wall up front.

“A grandfather clock?” asked Nancy unsurely.

“It was so real. And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just…woke up,” she breathed out the last word, and Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and Robin shared a look before diverting it to you, then to Max, and back to the wall.

Back in the counselor’s office, while skimming through the papers, Max had blanked out, and never mind how many times Steve, Eddie, and Dustin had called her name in an attempt at snapping her out of it, she hadn’t budged.

“It was like she was in a trance or something,” spoke out Dustin.

“It was…quite spooky, man,” Eddie huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. “It was like, sorta what happened to Chrissy, just…just without the-the floating,” he gulped as he looked at you nervously, eyebrows furrowing when he noticed your unfocused eyes staring unblinkingly at the floor. “Hey,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face and your head shot up, turning to the side so you could look at him.

“What?” you grumbled and he let out the breath he was holding.

“Don’t do shit like that, man, you gave me a scare for a moment there,” he whispered.

“There’s…something else you need to know,” Max turned to face you with an uncertain expression before she moved past you and you had to follow her back to the office, unease increasing with each step you took. “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help,” began the girl once you reached the counselor’s desk and Robin plopped on the chair, hand running over the papers. “Uh, they were both having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn’t go away. And then…then the nightmares…trouble sleeping,” she explained, trying to keep her voice steady, and you gulped, looking at Steve who seemed to share your distress. “They’d wake up in cold sweat. Then they started seeing things…Bad things…From their pasts…These visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended,” she finished. 

“Vecna’s curse,” uttered Robin.

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s, six days ago…I’ve been having them for five days,” she admitted and everyone felt like someone punched them in the gut. “I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamned clock, so,” she waved her hand as her voice cracked and you felt your heart constrict painfully. “Looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

Before you could say something or bring her in for a hug, there was a clanging sound that seemed to echo throughout the whole school, startling all of you.

“Stay here,” said Steve as he didn’t hesitate to grab the large lamp near the door and head out.

“Oh, hell no,” you muttered before following right after him, ignoring Eddie and Dustin’s protests which forced them to come after you.

The group moved slowly and hesitantly towards the crossroad of corridors as more clattering sounds came from there and increased in volume which meant whoever or whatever was making them was nearby. Then it transitioned into the sound of footsteps that eventually rounded the corner and just when Steve was ready to hit the person with the lamp, it turned out to be Lucas, making you all drop your fists and lower your ‘weapons’.

“It’s me!” he wailed once everyone stopped yelling and calmed down.

“Lucas!?”

“It’s me!”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you!?” barked out Steve, still on edge.

“I’m sorry.”

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Sorry, guys. Sorry,” wheezed the boy and you let out a breath of relief, adrenaline lowering bit by bit. “I was,” he gasped out. “I was biking for eight miles. Give me a second,” he raised a finger as he tried to calm his breathing. “Shit. We’ve got a code red.”

“What?” asked Steve but Lucas ignored him and marched straight towards Dustin.

“Dustin! I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie,” he revealed as he turned to look at the others, noticing the boy in question, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “-and they think you know where he is which you-you apparently do. You’re in terrible danger. You all are. We all are,” he explained out of breath and everyone shared concerned looks.

“But Lucas, why would they chase Eddie? The police have not revealed his name as a suspect and they never will because we spoke to them and gave Eddie an alibi,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “What, are they gunning for him just because the crime took place at his trailer?” you asked incredulously and Lucas nodded.

“And because they know that Chrissy went to buy drugs from him which they think it’s an impossible thing for her to do. They immediately jumped to the conclusion that it must’ve been Eddie who forcefully drugged and killed her. They’re so not the sharpest crayons in the box.”

“Look, fuck Jason. We can deal with him later. We’ve got bigger problems on our hands now.”

“Thanks,” muttered Max when you placed a cup of hot chocolate on the dining table she was currently occupying, briefly interrupting her writing.

Lucas was utterly devastated when he learned everything. After breaking the horrifying news to him, you decided to return back to your house and bunk up for the night, this time with two extra people tagging along – Nancy and Lucas.

Although, to be fair, you didn’t feel like sleeping at all and you believed the others shared the sentiment. You all wanted to keep an eye on Max, fearing she’d be taken at any moment.

“Y/N,” Max blurted out, dropping the pen, just when you turned around in order to go back to the kitchen, and you whirled on your heels to look at her questioningly. “I worry about you,” she confessed which drew the others’ attention.

“What? You-you don’t have to, Max, I’m-“

“Don’t say fine,” she cut you off and you tightened your lips. “It’s like you forget or purposely ignore what happened yesterday. I almost thought…I almost thought you lost your mind when I saw you in the bathroom. But now it makes sense. You have visions too,” you opened your mouth to protest but she interrupted before you could. “Just admit it.”

“Yes, Max, I have weirdly vivid, spooky visions, alright?” you huffed, running a hand through your hair. “But I’ve been having them since last summer. It’s nothing new, okay? Headaches, nightmares, hallucinations, I’ve had them since Billy-“ you cut yourself off and squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a long exhale. “Look, I’m sorry I scared you. But now’s not the time to worry about my messed-up head. You’re the one who’s in danger here. Focus on yourself,” you then turned to address the others. “Focus on thinking of ways to prevent a…disastrous outcome.”

You then returned to the kitchen counter to proceed with the task you had in mind, leaving the others to simmer in maddening thoughts and plans. You had purposely omitted the fact that while you really have had visions, nightmares, headaches, etc, since Billy’s death, they had only increased and had gotten more vivid and scary these recent weeks, especially in the past days. But you really didn’t want to put too much thought into them and you certainly didn’t want to jump to the conclusion that they were somehow related to Vecna.

But Max’s were for sure and so you had to focus on that. You had to focus on finding a way to help her. You didn’t want to lose her too. You weren’t sure you’d be able to survive such a blow this time around.

“Max is right, you know?” Steve’s voice startled you and you sighed shakily, hands shuddering in response and almost spilling the liquid outside the mugs you were trying to fill.

“Not you too,” you berated him tiredly. “I told you. Those visions and nightmares are things I’ve been dealing with for almost a year now. They can’t be the same as the ones Max, Fred, and…Chrissy had,” you began piling sweets onto a plate, trying to keep your hands busy otherwise you were sure they’d start shaking.

You never liked talking about those nightmares. You rarely did even with your family. Most of the time, you just had to because they were there to witness it. They struggled and suffered enough alongside you throughout the aftermath of your self-harm so you hated troubling them with other things that most probably began occurring as a result of the harsh months you had.    

“But what if they are?” pressed the boy and you let out a loud puff of air.

“The only thing that will convince me that those visions are a result of Vecna’s curse is if I get a nosebleed too.”

“Y/N-“

You cut him off by shoving an éclair into his mouth, making him recoil as his hand flew to grab the dessert that was sticking out, teeth clamping down on it, and separating it in two. You snorted at his dumbfounded expression and the cream that got smeared all over his mouth, then you reached out and wiped it off with your finger before you brought it to your mouth and licked it clean. Then you leaned in and captured his lips in a quick, sweet, kiss. He sighed and rolled his eyes but you knew he wasn’t actually frustrated with you. Just concerned.

“Be a dear and take these,” you handed him the tray with a couple of mugs and a plate, and he looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t over,” he promised, mouth still full, as he shoved the other half of the éclair into his mouth and took the tray off your hands, struggling to balance it for a while as he walked away from you.

You let out a sigh, turning your back on the rest as you were finally left alone in the kitchen. Well, not entirely because your kitchen, dining room, and living room were sort of connected so you could still hear and see everyone from your place, but you were glad that they weren’t breathing down your neck like Steve had. It was unnerving and suffocating.

You let out a hiss, hand flying to grasp your forehead and rub it because you were suddenly hit by a sharp, piercing headache that almost made you see stars and black dots began swimming in your vision.

Then, you felt a bizarre sensation, like something trickling down your cupid bow.

When you opened your eyes, they widened in shock when they saw a few red droplets staining the clean counter. Your hand left your forehead and moved to your nose, fingers running over a thick substance.

And when you pulled them away for inspection, you found them coated in blood.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered.

It’s like any words got stuck in your throat and your body froze in shock. You were absolutely petrified.

“Y/N? You alright?” asked Nancy and you quickly wiped your nose, turned the tap on, and washed off the offending substance under the aggressive stream of water.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you managed to stutter out as you hastily took a napkin and wiped the dirtied spot on the counter. “J-just cleaning up something I spilled,” you cleared your throat and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Do you need help?”

For some reason, this question made your gut twist painfully.

“No…No, I…I don’t need help…I’m… fine…”

The Following Morning

Almost no one was able to even blink for the night. Dustin and Eddie were probably the only ones who managed to get some shut-eye, even if it was only for a few hours. Steve only dozed on and off but stayed awake for most of the evening while you, Lucas, Max, Robin, and Nancy barely even batted your eyelashes.

You let out a sigh as you washed your hands, the blood from last night not leaving your mind. In fact, you were still able to see it staining your fingers, even though you knew it was not there. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you hoped it wouldn’t drive you nuts.

“Everything okay?” asked Eddie from the kitchen entrance and the short conversation you had with Nancy last night replayed in your head.

“All is good,” you replied as you grabbed two cups of coffee and turned around, easily plastering a fake smile onto your face as you neared your best friend and handed him a mug which he gladly took but he didn’t look convinced at your words.

“How can Vecna have existed in the fifty’s? It doesn’t make sense,” you heard Steve comment as you two walked into the living room and Eddie took his place on the armrest of the armchair Dustin was sitting on while you leaned against the couch, looming over Steve.

“Far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down,” butted in Dustin. “She opened a gate to it.”

“Imagine,” added Eddie as he took a bite of his food. “The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years,” he spoke through munching and then paused, eyes widening. “Maybe even millions! I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs!” he exclaimed while waving around the hand that held the plate and you took it off his hands and placed it onto the table so he wouldn’t accidentally drop something on the floor.

“Whoa, dinosaurs?” Steve threw his arms with a scrunched-up face. “What are we going on about here?”

“Don’t talk with a full mouth,” you chided Eddie and he stuck out his tongue at you before taking another bite.

“Okay, but if a gate didn’t exist in the fifty’s, how did Vecna get through?” asked Lucas.

“And how’s he getting through now?” backed him up Steve.

“And why now?”

“And why then? Just pops out in the fifty’s, kills one family, and he’s like, “I’m good”, and then poof, he just disappears. Just…gone?” gesticulated Steve with furrowed eyebrows. “Only to return thirty years later and start killing random teens? No, I don’t buy it. Straightforward, my ass. You know, Henderson, Munson, a little humility every now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Sorry,” echoed the two boys simultaneously and you rubbed the bridge of your nose, sharing a look with Nancy and Robin, the three of you clearly thinking how silly boys could be sometimes.

“So, what do we do exactly? Should we search the whole town for a gate or something? I mean, if there’s even a gate. Like, how does this guy work? Do we have to use blood as bait again or what?” inquired Steve as he casually threw the booklet he’s been holding onto the table and Nancy, Robin, and you shared another look.

“We were…actually thinking of something else,” you began while Nancy set her mug away and stood up to go grab her bag.

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” explained Robin excitedly as Nancy fished out a folder and flung it on the table so everyone could open and take a look.

“I’m Ruth.”

“And I’m Rose.”

“Nice GPA,” commented Dustin.

“Thanks,” smiled Nancy. “So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics,” she explained.

“To which they said no,” added Robin.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.”

“Now, all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

“Then maybe we can find a way to break Max’s curse,” finished Nancy and the boys glanced at each other.

“Hold on, I don’t see Y/N’s documents,” pointed out Eddie with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms while peeking over Dustin’s shoulder, and you sighed.

“I’m not going with them. I’d like to stay and keep an eye on Max,” you told them and Steve took the folder off Dustin’s hands to skim through it.

“But, it would’ve made more sense and it would’ve been more plausible to include you in this. I mean, you’re actually part of a prestigious university and you could’ve used the excuse of writing an assignment on historical murderers or something,” pointed out Lucas. “Besides, if the director decides to double check your identity, you’d be plausible and safe, while Nancy and Robin-“

“We did think about this, Lucas. I understand it would be safer if I go with them but…I don’t want to leave Max’s side. Not for a second,” you admitted quietly, eyes darting between the lonesome redhead at the table and the boy. “I thought you’d understand,” you muttered and he exhaled heavily.

“We’ll be fine. I know we can handle it,” intervened Nancy, backing you up. “And I don’t think they’re going to double-check if we present ourselves well enough.”

“We thought this through.”

“Wait, wait…wait a second,” stuttered out Steve, lifting his head from the papers and facing the girls. “Where’s mine?”

Steve had thrown a fit over the fact that he had to babysit again and you were probably the only one who was happy about him being ‘stuck’ with your group instead of going with Nancy and Robin. You needed him to be next to you and keep battling off the demons that tried to make their return and sink their claws into you again. 

“I know you guys are staring at me,” grumbled Max and the boys quickly shuffled to do something and pretend they haven’t been doing exactly what she accused them of.

“What?”

“Sorry?”

“You said you needed something?”

“We’re just…hanging out.”

You snorted as you half turned to look at the girl from your place at the kitchen counter and she met your gaze, the two of you rolling your eyes.

“How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don’t know,” she sighed while stacking the letters she’s been writing and stood up, and you wiped your hands on the towel before curiously following the girl into the living room. “You can look at me,” she said exasperatedly and the boys shifted in their seats awkwardly.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“For you,” she handed Dustin a letter and he looked at her weirdly but took it nonetheless. “For you,” she proceeded to hand each person a letter and before you were about to say something, she turned to you. “And…this is for you,” she handed you yours and your gaze lingered on hers, making her fidget uncomfortably because she knew what you were trying to silently convey before you finally took the item and looked away. “Also, give these to Mike, El, and Will once you get back to LA,” she muttered while handing you the rest of the letters and you sighed, taking them wordlessly.

“I’m sorry, what is this?” asked Dustin timidly and that’s maybe the first time you’ve heard him speak so quietly and unsurely as if afraid to receive an answer, a stark contrast to his usual boisterous self.

“It’s, uhm…It’s a fail-safe,” answered the girl. “For after…If  things don’t work out.”

“Wait, whoa, Max,” interrupted her Lucas with a distressed tone and expression. “Things are going to work out,” he tried to sound positive but everybody knew deep down he was hesitant. 

“No!” she snapped at him. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me and tell me it’s all gonna work out. People have been telling me that my entire life and it’s almost never true,” she bit out. “It’s never true…I mean, of course, this asshole curses me,” her tone lost its bite all of a sudden and she sounded like someone who has completely given up. “Should’ve seen that one coming,” and with each word that left her lips, it’s like realization dawned upon the guys even more and made them shrink in their seats as the atmosphere became even more hopeless and depressing.

“But-” began the boy again.

“Lucas,” you cut him off before he could open his mouth to spill out more of his thoughts and he looked at you with both confusion and hope, maybe hoping that you’d back him up or something. “We’re heading into the unknown…Nothing is certain…Don’t give her false promises,” you muttered and his shoulders sagged.

You sent Max a look as you squeezed her shoulder and she sent you a small grateful smile, her hand flying to grasp yours briefly before you walked away from the group and into your room so you could safely store the letters she wrote for Will, Mike, and El.

You were going to keep yours in your bag.

After that, Max had demanded, or more likely threatened, Steve to take her to her home, saying that she didn’t want to spend what was possibly the last day of her life cooped up inside, doing nothing, and you agreed with that. You would have done the same had you been in her shoes. Staying in one place was only bound to make a person go insane.

But what hit you like a brick, was her desire to go visit Billy’s grave.

You hadn’t set foot in the graveyard for almost a year and now you were going to do it twice in just what, two days? Three? It was quite bizarre to you.  

When you parked as nearby to the grave as you could, she bolted out of the car, and Lucas right after her.

“I’m not okay with letting her go alone,” you murmured and Steve hummed in agreement. You spent a little while in silence, staring motionlessly ahead of you, before you threw open the door and headed out, silently approaching the two teens that seemed to be in a heated conversation, especially on Lucas’ side.

“I don’t need a letter,” said the boy. “I don’t want a letter. Just talk to me. To your friends. We’re right here…I’m right here. Okay? I’m here,” he finished desperately and she just stared at him before brushing past him.

“Just wait in the car. This won’t be long-“

“Max,” you called out and she halted in her steps, turning around halfway to see you slowly approach the boy and pat his shoulder before nodding your head towards the vehicle, signaling him to return, and he spared Max one last glance before dejectedly going back to the others.

That left only the two of you, facing each other. You sighed before averting your gaze and closing the distance bit by bit.

“Look, if you wanna visit Billy, you can come with me. It’s fine-“

“I just wanted to tell you something,” you cut her off and she turned around fully, showing you that she was giving you all her attention. “Lucas was right back there, you know? Vecna seems to be targeting people with trauma…damaged people…who haven’t taken a step forward in order to heal,” you took a deep breath as you began hesitantly. “You’re one of those people…But maybe…just maybe…if you make an effort and take that step…maybe you’ll have a better chance at winning this fight. And it’s okay to admit it,” you took another step forward so you could place your hand on her shoulder. “I get it, you’re trying to be tough for everyone, you’re trying to present yourself as someone who doesn’t care if they die…But I know better than anyone…No matter how tough you think you are, no matter how tough you present yourself to be…you’re weak and broken,” you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, gesticulating weakly, and Max’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “And when you’re broken and weak, monsters start lurking…Monsters like Vecna who want to take over, who steal the little bit of sanity you have left until there’s nothing,” you folded your lips and gulped. “I went through this for a long time…I was only able to fight off those demons because of my beloved people helping me every time. And even then, it’s not like they left…No. They’re still here, lurking somewhere in the depths of my mind, waiting for an opportunity to jump out and sink their claws in me again. You’re going through the same, I know it. But because you haven’t asked for help, because you haven’t turned to your friends and family, you’re alone. You’re fighting a losing battle and Vecna is taking advantage of this…Max, it’s okay to admit that you need help. It’s okay to ask for help. Humans are weak and dependant on others to begin with…since being born…there’s no shame in that. In fact, I think it’s beautiful because asking for help is something that brings us together,” you sent her a small smile. “I know it’s easier to give up. It’s easier to seek relief and peace in death even,” you continued, smile faltering, and her eyes widened drastically, looking wildly into yours as if you had just discovered something you shouldn’t have, or exposed something you shouldn’t have.

“I-“

“Max, do you take me for a fool? Did you think I wouldn’t notice your behavioral patterns?” you asked, shaking your head, and she shut her mouth, head lowering as she was unable to look you in the eyes. Was it out of guilt or embarrassment or something else, you couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps a bit of everything. “Let’s face it head-on, Max, you have thought of ending it all just as much as I have. I saw the way you reacted when you saw my scars,” you whispered and she shut her eyes, biting her lower lip. You sighed softly as you lifted a hand to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind her ear before you placed it on her shoulder again. “For you, it hasn’t yet manifested physically, which is great,” you exclaimed and she opened her eyes, looking briefly at you before lowering them back onto her feet. “But anything besides physically…it’s bad. With time, it’s going to fester and slowly take over your body until you begin doing it physically. Take it from me, that’s not the way. If you don’t wanna do it for yourself, at least think of your mom, of Lucas, of everyone else. If you don’t wanna fight for yourself, fight for them. Don’t give Vecna the pleasure. It’s hard to find the strength to take this one step forward but you have to do it, Max, you just have to,” you spoke firmly, squeezing her shoulder. “But you can’t do it all alone. You can’t win this fight alone. So please, rely on us some more.”

“You told Lucas not to give me false hope and now you’re doing the same,” she muttered after a moment of silence and you let out a gentle snort.

“That’s different. I’m not just saying words of encouragement just for the sake of encouragement. Or reassuring you that everything will be okay when in fact, it’s all incredibly uncertain…I’m just giving you…an idea…advice…a possible solution to try out. Because after all, even if the situation is uncertain and is progressively leaning more towards ‘disastrous’, it doesn’t mean we should just give up the fight. Laying down and admitting defeat while someone else walks over us is not how we do things,” another smile resurfaced and you were glad to see that this time Max seemed to share the sentiment, the two of you sharing a silent understanding. “Off you go now,” you nodded in the direction of the grave and she slowly backed away before turning around and walking off.

Shortly after, you heard her begin talking. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but at the same time, you didn’t really want to put too much distance between the two of you, just in case something happened. So you just moved away and began pacing slowly, allowing her words to turn into soft inaudible humming in the background while your mind focused on other things – such as how you found yourself visiting Billy and Hopper again but this time around you had no words to speak to the dead.

You already told them everything you had kept locked inside of you – in the form of a complete word vomit on top of all. What else were you supposed to say? What did people usually talk about to the dead anyways? Were you supposed to say that you missed them? That you wished they were here with you or something? That was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? Or were you supposed to keep a diary and write paragraph after paragraph as you sat by their graves? Were you supposed to rant to them? To tell them of every detail that happened in your daily life as if they were alive and this was just any normal day of you catching up?

Were they even going to hear you if you did speak to them? Some people believed that spirits lingered in the realm of the living. Some believed in heaven and hell and that those who died and went to heaven were watching over their living loved ones and listening to them. Some believed in reincarnations in which case there was no point in talking because the dead would’ve reincarnated as a wailing babe somewhere around the world or even in some other dimension. You – who were fascinated by many different cultures and religions – didn’t know what to believe in.

The ancient Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die that life on earth was only one part of an eternal journey which ended, not in death, but in everlasting joy. They believed that each person’s afterlife was different – a mirror image of their mortal life at its best where they could meet and spend eternity with their loved people who have died or who would die in the future.

Maybe you could stick with this one for a while?

The thought of Hopper being reunited with Sarah warmed your heart.

“What am I supposed to say anyways?” you muttered under your breath as you crossed your arms and kept pacing slowly, feet drawing patterns into the soil underneath. “You guys wouldn’t believe what’s been going on since your passing. There has been a miraculous return of the villain we’ve been fighting for years and it seems things are much worse now. Max has fallen into a death trap and I’ve been getting the same symptoms as her so maybe we’re both cursed and on the way to join y’all!” you snorted as you uncrossed your arms and pressed your palms together, bringing them to your nose and resting your face against them, shutting your eyes close. “Osiris, give me strength. Going to my A’aru sounds tempting but now’s so not the time. Don’t send me there yet,” you groaned quietly.

Steve watched you pace, mutter to yourself, rub the bridge of your nose in frustration, and he couldn’t help but feel concern. Concern for Max, for you, for Eddie – well, at least Eddie’s case was solved so there was one thing less to worry about but that didn’t change the fact that the boy was traumatized by what he witnessed and felt like a failure for not being to protect Chrissy – for the whole situation in general. Everything was going from bad to worse, the control and somewhat normality were slipping through your fingers, and none of you could do anything about it. It was maddening. 

Feeling someone’s gaze burning holes through you made you look up and finally lock eyes with Steve and Eddie who watched you like hawks, and you sent them a small smile and a shrug. But then, it’s like realization pierced you like a spear when you finally got snapped out of your racing thoughts and strained your ears only to hear nothing. Max’s voice which was like humming in the background had gone silent, and suddenly, your whole body got wracked with chills, making you turn around sharply.

Steve, seeing the way your face fell, snapped his attention on Max, having the same realization dawn upon him. Simultaneously, he jumped out of the car while you dashed to the girl sitting on the ground cross-legged. Eddie, Dustin, and Lucas looked at the two of you in alarm before following hot on your heels.

“Max?” you called out as you came to a screeching halt and knelt next to her. You barely contained a shocked gasp when you saw the way her eyes had rolled to the back of her head and the veins around them had bulged painfully while the miniature vessels in her sclera were glaringly red.

“Max!” Steve’s panicked yell mixed with yours as his sprint came to a stop and he threw himself on the ground next to you, grabbing the girl’s shoulder and shaking her, Lucas, Eddie, and Dustin joining you.

“Wha-wha-what’s going o- Jesus Christ!” yelled Eddie once he saw the girl’s condition and all hell broke loose after that.

You didn’t know how much you called out to her. You didn’t know how many times you tried to wake her up or how many tears you shed as you thought that was it, she was going to die. At one point, the sound of a grandfather clock pierced your eardrums. It was much scarier than the sound of mechanical clocks you used to hear. It felt like someone was counting your minutes – minutes of remaining life.

And then, an invisible force lifted her into the air and you could only watch in shock, not being able to do anything. Steve grabbed you by the shoulders and held you tightly while you looked up. Not even Nancy and Robin’s advice to use music seemed to help.

That’s what you thought initially when Max opened her eyes and came to her senses, the invisible force that held her strung up like a puppet on strings released her and she fell right into your arms.

And as she muttered a breathless “I’m still here,” in an attempt to reassure you all she was fine, that she was alive, your tears couldn’t stop falling. She had such a close brush with death and suddenly you got reminded of the way you felt when you thought Will could’ve died a couple of years back.

Panic gripped at your heart and squeezed painfully and you couldn’t stop thinking of how history seemed to be repeating itself, but this time around it was scarier, because the enemy you were up against was, thus far, invisible.

You didn’t know how you were going to fight against something of such magnitude. Not only Max, but all of you were fighting a losing battle. You were lost. 

And the clock was ticking. 

Tags: @anxiousbeech @ashstorm24 @leireggsworld @burns-in-the-sun @ooenjoythesilenceoo @we-out-here-simping 🖤

[foundtherightwords]

Signal Fire - Chapter 2

Summary: Two years after Corroded Coffin finally made it big, Eddie learns that Chrissy's mother has passed away. He returns to Hawkins in the hope of reuniting with her, but would Chrissy be able to overcome her fears and allow herself some happiness at last?

Warnings: angst, implied/mentions of abuse, homophobia, and drug use, some smut

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

After she had assured Jason that she was fine and thanked him for his help, after Jason had left with his wife and she was alone in the house, which had once seemed so suffocating when her mother had been alive and was now so lonely and echoing, Chrissy finally allowed herself to break down. She'd hurt Eddie, she knew. In the past two years, she had tried so hard to suppress all thoughts of him, to not rely on his memories to get through some of her darkest times, because she was afraid, afraid that in a moment of weakness, she would call him and he would drop everything to rush back to her, and it would become a habit and send them both down a spiral of co-dependency.

So when he showed up at her door so unexpectedly, the way she practically collapsed into his arms, and the passion with which they ravished each other had scared her so much, that she had to push him away again.

But he'd hurt her too. How dare he insinuate that she and Jason... How ridiculous men are! She found it both laughable and oddly sweet that Eddie could be jealous of Jason still. She was tempted to call Eddie now, to clear the air and ask if they could talk later, when both of them were calmer and their emotions weren't so raw, but she decided to wait. She wasn't sure if it was a childish decision, made to punish Eddie for saying those hurtful things to her, or if it was a mature one, as she wanted to talk the whole thing over with her therapist first.

Her mother hadn't believed in therapy. In her senior year, when Chrissy had let it slip that she'd been talking to Miss Kelley, the school's guidance counselor, about her struggles at home and at school, her mother had screamed at Chrissy about "airing her dirty laundry to a stranger". Afterward, Chrissy had stopped going to her appointments with Miss Kelley. Instead, she'd sought out Eddie for some weeds and something stronger, wanting to drown her anxiety in the peaceful bliss of the drugs. Only she'd found a different kind of peace instead. It was strange to think that if it hadn't been for her mother, perhaps Chrissy would have never given Eddie another thought.

After the second stroke had bound her mother to a wheelchair and bound Chrissy to her, after Eddie had left for LA, Chrissy had started seeing a therapist in Bloomington, almost out of defiance to her mother more than a real desire to deal with her issues. It also helped that Dr. Hall did not look at all like Mrs. Cunningham's notion of a therapist. With steel-gray hair covered in a turban and costume jewelry that clinked and clanked every time she moved, she looked more like a poet, like Maya Angelou or Sonia Sanchez, and if nothing else, at least Chrissy found her presence soothing.

They talked a bit about her mother first.

"I miss her," Chrissy said. "This morning I woke up and half expected to hear her calling for me. Is that weird?"

"No, not at all." Dr. Hall shook her head, causing her earrings to jingle. "It's complex, the way we feel about our parents. The important thing is that you recognize these feelings and let yourself process them at your own pace."

"Also..." Chrissy twisted the strap of her purse. "I kind of—slept with my ex. After the funeral."

Dr. Hall's eyebrows went up a fraction. "This would be the ex whom you broke up with to stay with your mother, wouldn't it?"

Chrissy nodded, aware that her face was burning up.

"And how did you feel about that?"

"Confused. Guilty."

"Guilty because of your mother? Because she just passed and you feel you're not mourning her enough?"

"It's not just that. You remember how I told you he had to move away for his job, and I didn't want to go with him? I still don't."

"Why not?"

"I have a job that I like here, I have my students, friends—well, co-workers. If I follow him, I'll have only him. And his job is very demanding. It won't be healthy."

"That's a good start. You have a pretty clear idea of your issues."

Chrissy let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah. Too clear."

"So you felt guilty for leading him on?"

"I think so. I mean, I didn't plan on sleeping with him. I was just sad and scared and he was... available." But even as she said this, Chrissy knew it wasn't entirely true. If it had been any of her exes standing at her door that day, she wouldn't have acted the same.

Dr. Hall fixed the bracelets that had become tangled on her wrist. "I'm not a couples' therapist, Chrissy. We're here to work on you. But if you want to make this relationship work, we could add that to your list of goals as well."

Was that what she wanted? Chrissy recalled not just how safe she'd felt in Eddie's arms, but also how empty the past two years had been and the blaze of happiness she'd felt when she opened the door and saw him.

"You want to know what else I felt after I slept with him?" she said. "I was elated." This was true. She couldn't stop thinking of the way Eddie had felt underneath and inside her, the way his hands had gripped at her, the way his mouth had moved over hers. The memory both mortified and thrilled her, but the thrill was stronger. The thrill of being with him again. The thrill of knowing he still wanted her, still loved her. "But how do I know if it's what I really want and I'm not just clinging to him because I'm lonely?"

"Aren't we all just looking for someone we can turn to when we're lonely? It's not a weakness. We need to get you to a place where you feel confident enough in yourself to be vulnerable again." Dr. Hall smiled as Chrissy stared at her. "I know it sounds like an oxymoron, but that's what it takes."

***

Dr. Hall's words were still ringing in Chrissy's ears as she drove home. Confident enough to be vulnerable. Was that where she had been going wrong all this time? She'd tried so hard to stay strong all these years; she never thought being vulnerable was the end goal. Vulnerable enough to properly mourn her mother, vulnerable enough to let Eddie in, to let him take care of her like he'd asked.

The sign of Roane Hill Cemetery coming up made her pause. Well, if she wanted to change, then there was no time like the present.

She bought some flowers from a convenience store along the way. She didn't check to see if they were fresh or not. She drove into the cemetery, found the Cunningham family plot, and placed the flowers on her mother's grave. There were still flowers left from the funeral, so she put her own bouquet on the side. On second thought, she placed some on her father's grave as well.

She stood there for a long time. All the things she wanted to say, all the things she wished she could have said to her mother, were darting through her mind like a murmuration of starlings, their shapes always changing before she could get a firm grasp of them. All she knew was this—her parents had never realized their mistakes. Her dad had turned a blind eye and buried his head in the sand up until the moment of his heart attack. Her mom... well, even when she was alone and dying, she had remained bitter and desperate to maintain a "perfect" façade. And all for what? They had both died miserable and lonely.

Now, standing at their graves, Chrissy was determined not to suffer the same fate.

"Goodbye, Mom and Dad," eventually she said, turned on her heels, and left.

***

Her next stop was Wayne's apartment.

When Corroded Coffin first got signed to Metal Blade, Eddie had wanted to put his advance toward a down payment for a house, or to bring Wayne to LA, but Wayne had refused both. A house would be too big for him, and he had lived his whole life in Hawkins and never wanted to go anywhere else. But he'd conceded to moving out of the trailer park and into a nice apartment. When she found out, Chrissy had been happy for both uncle and nephew—she knew one of Eddie's biggest regrets was not being able to take care of Wayne in his old age, and she was glad Eddie had managed to do so at last.

The only time she allowed herself to think of Eddie was when she brought Wayne his Sunday lunch, or, if she couldn't make it, a pie or some dessert for his dinner. Wayne would have a beer open for her and share with her the latest Corroded Coffin news, or he would tell her stories of when Eddie was a kid. For all his pride in his nephew, Chrissy knew that the old man was lonely and missed having Eddie around. They had that in common.

That day, though, she had no time for chitchat or even polite greetings.

"Is Eddie here?" she asked as soon as Wayne opened the door. "Can I talk to him?"

Wayne's face fell. "Oh, honey," he said ruefully. "He just left for the airport."

Chrissy's stomach dropped. "But I thought he wasn't leaving until Sunday?"

"Change of plans, he said."

The only change was that he thought she wanted nothing to do with him. Chrissy pulled out her phone and dialed Eddie's number, which she hadn't been able to bring herself to delete or block. It went straight to voicemail.

"Is he going back on tour?"

"Yeah," Wayne nodded. "Europe. For three months."

Europe! That's practically half the world away! And she couldn't wait that long. She had to talk to him now.

"When did he leave?"

"About an hour ago," Wayne said, surprised at her panic mode.

It took an hour and a half to get to Indianapolis. She may still catch him at the airport, if she hurried. Chrissy ran to her car without even saying goodbye, leaving Wayne staring after her in confusion.

As her car tore down the highway, she called Eddie again. Still voicemail. She left a message this time, asking him to call her back.

A flashing on the meter caught her eyes, and her stomach dropped once more. It was her gas light. No way she'd make it to Indianapolis. She wasn't even sure she could make it to the nearest gas station, which was fifteen miles away, according to a sign.

Suddenly, the rush she'd felt after leaving the cemetery vanished, and she realized how foolish and senseless this was. Even if she could get to the airport, she may still miss Eddie. And if she managed to find him, what then? What would she say? She had been so focused on seeing him again that she hadn't even thought about what she was going to say. Besides, he was going to Europe for three months; he couldn't exactly drop out of that to come back to her. Not that she even wanted him to. So why was she in such a rush? She'd left him a message. He would be sure to get it as soon as he landed. They could talk then. It didn't have to be face-to-face. Talking on the phone wasn't exactly her idea of a romantic reunion, but they had a lot to discuss, and none of it could be resolved immediately anyway. This mad dash to stop him at the airport would accomplish nothing. This wasn't a rom-com.

With a sigh, Chrissy looked for the nearest exit that would bring her back to Hawkins.

She saw a gas station on her way back and pulled over. A lopsided sign at the pumps announced, in barely legible chicken scratch, that the card reader was broken and customers must pay with cash inside. Chrissy considered pushing on, but she didn't want to risk getting stranded in her rust bucket. With an exasperated sigh, she went inside. The pimply-faced clerk didn't even look up from the comic book he was reading.

Chrissy was digging through her purse to see if she had enough cash for gas and maybe some junk food as well, when the door behind her chimed.

"Can I get twenty on pump two, please?" a voice said.

Chrissy's stomach dropped for the third time. She knew that voice.

She whirled around. The speaker was taking off his sunglasses with one hand and brushing back his messy curls with the other, his brown eyes wide-opened, staring at her in disbelief.

Eddie.

At that moment, she realized why she'd been in such a rush to speak to him. It wasn't because there had been any urgency to discuss their relationship. It wasn't because she was afraid that she might lose him if he went back to LA. No. It was simply this: She missed him.

For two years, there was a void in her heart, a void the exact size and shape of Eddie. She'd learned to live with it and had gone so used to it that sometimes she didn't even notice it was there. Only when he'd come back and gone again so soon that she felt it, like someone who was starving only noticed the hunger more acutely after they'd had a tiny morsel of food. That was why she'd driven like a madwoman after him, just so she could see him and hear him and never chase him away again as she'd done so foolishly.

And now, seeing his eyes light up with surprise and joy at the sight of her, she realized that void was slowly disappearing, filled by the warm glow that always bubbled up inside her whenever she looked at him. That glow expanded behind her ribs, tightened her throat, and rooted her to the spot, so she could only stand there like an idiot, smiling at him with trembling lips, waiting for him to come to her.

One step, two steps, and he was so close she could smell the familiar scent of his leather jacket, a smell that took her back eighteen years, to that day they'd met in the woods, the day that had started all of this.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. From his breathless voice, she knew that for every emotion that was coursing through her, he felt it too.

"I—" She tried to steady her own voice. "I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were going to the airport."

"I changed my mind. I mean, I'm still leaving on Sunday." Her heart stuttered, and the disappointment must have shown on her face, because he quickly added, "But I'm here—now. Why are you here?"

"I went to Wayne's place. I wanted to talk to you. Didn't you get my message?"

He tilted his head to look at her more closely. "No, I haven't checked my phone. Talk to me about what?"

"I want to apologize. For pushing you away like that." That wasn't all she wanted to say to him, but it was a good start.

He looked away for a moment, before turning his eyes back on her, so tender and yet so intense at the same time. "I'm sorry too. You just lost your mom, and I made it all about me."

"But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Hey, are you going to pay for your gas or what?" The clerk had finally put his comic book down and was scowling at them.

Eddie turned to the clerk irritably. "Just give us a minute, would you?" He took Chrissy's arm and steered her toward an aisle at the back of the store, where they could have a modicum of privacy. "So what did you want to talk about?" he asked, fixing those heart-melting eyes on her.

"About us."

"What about us?"

She scrambled to remember all the lines and speeches she'd prepared since her session with Dr. Hall, since her visit to the cemetery. Somehow they all vanished when he looked at her like that. She kept her eyes on the floor to calm her nerves. "I've been thinking. If you still want me, I can move to LA," she said, her words tumbling over each other. "I can apply to a nursing school out there—finish my degree—get a job—"

"You hate nursing school."

"Well, I can always wait for the Laker Girls to have an opening," she joked. When Eddie said nothing, she risked a glance at him. He was still looking at her with those tender eyes, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

"What about your job here? What about your students?" he asked.

Chrissy hesitated. "They're just going to have to do without me," she said, and added, surprising herself, "Because I can't do without you."  

A small exhalation, which might have been relief or delight, escaped Eddie. He reached out and took both of her hands in his. It felt so good to just stand there with his thumbs gently massaging her knuckles and her palms that she wished they could stay like that forever, without having to say anything at all.

"Maybe I can move back," he said quietly.

A wild hope sprouted inside her, but she had to pull her hands away and shake her head. "Eddie, no—"

"Hear me out," he said, seizing her hands again and lifting them to his lips. "We can split our time between Hawkins and LA. You can come on tour with me, and I can come back here to record. It's not like when the band first started; we can make music anywhere now. If there's no music scene in Hawkins, fuck it, we'll create one."

In her heart, the tiny sprout of hope took root, grew, flowered, and bore fruits. "Really?" she whispered.

"Really. And the answer's yes, by the way."

"The answer to what?"

"You said if I still want you. The answer's yes. I always want you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and brushed the back of his hand over her cheek, down her jaw. "In fact, I want you so much, I'd take you here and now if I could—"

"Eddie!" Chrissy put her hand over his mouth and glanced at the clerk, horrified, but they were well hidden. Eddie laughed and removed her hand to kiss her. As their lips collided, he lifted her clear off the floor, and she threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, pressing herself against him so as much of their bodies was wrapped up in each other as possible, while warmth and light flooded into her until the void in her heart vanished altogether.

Making out between bags of beef jerky and cheese puffs wasn't exactly Chrissy's idea of a romantic reunion, but it would do. It would do nicely.

There will be a little epilogue after this, so stay tuned!

[spookystarfishzombie]

[hangon-silvergirl]

how about an au where instead of chrissy being possessed by vecna but instead it’s eddie that vecna is targeting and chrissy has to try to save him before eddie gets killed? you can make it smut or anything like that, it was just an idea that i had in mind :)

Howdy! I think this could be a super interesting S4 fix-it fic, honestly! The biggest challenge there is that Eddie needs to be vulnerable and Chrissy needs to not be. And the dear woods scene would probably not happen, but there could be a different avenue to bring them together effectively, I think.

Without further ado:

Eddie's piece-of-shit dad gets out of jail in early March of 1986 and comes sniffing around Wayne's trailer looking for handouts. Wayne can't say no to his little brother, has that 'gotta-take-care-of-em' nature, and Eddie just tries to make himself scarce because it's almost always a short-lived intrusion. Larry Munson'll get under your skin though, whether you let him or not. He's sly, a master-manipulator, cold and hot, a mean drunk, and a user who will bleed you dry just because he can. He ribs on his only son, calls him dumb (for failing HS twice), tells him to drop-out and get it over with, calls him a hippie freak (for the long hair and aesthetic), tells him it's no wonder his mama OD'd because Eddie kinda makes him wanna OD too, tells him he's a burden to his uncle, calls his music demon bullshit, and tries to convince Eddie to partner with him to jack cars '''cause it ain't like you're gonna make something of yourself, rock star." So yeah, Eddie tries to avoid his dad but he's always there, and he comes to Eddie's shows to heckle and his toxicity is just constant, constant, constant, until Eddie's rendered down to distraction, throbbing anger, and more or less starts to hate himself. The headache and the nosebleeds and the visions start soon after, and he becomes Vecna's planned victim #1.

Chrissy, on the other hand, started seeing Ms. Kelley earlier in the school year after her cheer coach found her purging and her mother didn't seem concerned about that one iota. With earlier intervention from the guidance counselor, and with support from her coach, Chrissy slowly but surely starts to set boundaries with her parents, develops healthier coping measures for her anxiety, and learns to stand up for herself. She is still with Jason at the start of the story, but that changes after his self-indulgent, grandiose bullshit at the pep rally. 1) Heather Holloway was her friend and him using her (and the rest of the victims of the mall fire) that way is gross, and 2) she has repeatedly told him that she hates PDA for the sake of 'publicity'. It's the final nail in the coffin for what was already a dying relationship. She doesn't blow a kiss back, just gives him a steely glare, which certainly deflates the moment, and after the event she tears a strip off of him in the middle of the very busy school hallway, and breaks up with him right then and there.

This shakes Jason and the team well off their game. The Tigers lose, abysmally; get clobbered in record time. All the jocks go to drown their sorrows at Benny's post-game, but Chrissy has no interest, bids her friends adieu, and takes her time in the locker room. When she finally emerges, Hellfire is letting out for their final session. She sees the crowd of club members rambling off into the night and glances into the drama room as she walks past, more out of curiosity than anything else. She sees Eddie Munson stock-still and looking terrified in the middle of the room. She immediately backtracks and knocks on the door. He doesn't respond to the sound. "Eddie?" she asks, first quietly and then a little louder, and eventually he realizes she's there.

The Forest conversation largely takes place here; Chrissy asks him about D&D and the game they just played and that gets his spirits up a bit; he does the 'this isn't the first time we've hung out' intro, but it's Chrissy who has to instigate the flirting, make him feel comfortable, and she definitely goes into detail about the impression a certain little boy with a buzzcut made on baby Chrissy. He seems resigned to calling it a night when the convo trails off though, says he'll just go home and get baked or keep losing his mind, whatever happens first; he then makes some offhand comment about her getting back to Camelot. Apparently he'd missed the spectacle with Jason and she reveals in getting to tell him the story and enjoys his very delighted reactions to the whole thing retold. "Honestly," she says, thinking he shouldn't be alone. "It's been a crazy day. Would you share a joint with me? My parents are out of town. You'll have to show me how, though; I've never done it before." This prospect seems to reset his brain somewhat, and he agrees. They drive to her house in his van, and they go up to her room and he teaches her to smoke. They have a shot-gunning moment that I think would be absolutely necessary, and at some point Chrissy decides that they need music. They have a flirty little argument about their clashing tastes (her own collection is very, very pop-y), but Chrissy insists that, somewhere in this house, there is common ground for them musically. She says that she'll be right back, then goes and raids her dad's office for some LPs.

She comes back with Led Zeppelin II. Eddie's off the bed and standing with his back to her, looking out the window, so Chrissy just starts going a mile a minute about her record choice, tells some story about her and her dad, and busies herself getting it setup. She puts it on Side Two and kicks off out of order with Ramble On because it's her favorite (and has no idea that it was Eddie's mom's favorite too). After a beat she realizes that Eddie isn't responding and hasn't moved; she approaches him and he's in a trance of something, eyeballs rolled back so far that all she can see are the whites. She tries to wake him up--claps, snaps, yells, shakes him, even gives him a little slap--but nothing seems to do the trick. When he snaps up to the ceiling she screams, falls on the floor and backs away, and it's then that the song's chorus kicks, the juxtaposing injection of ramble on! Now's the time the time is now! feeling very, very wrong in the moment. He's trembling up there, eyes still white, mouth open; then suddenly one of Eddie's arms contorts and snaps, and Chrissy fully and completely flips her shit. Robert Plant sings, gotta find the queen of all my dreams, and Chrissy thinks, desperately, that that's not right, because this is her worst nightmare.

At that moment, though, Eddie's pupils reappear and he crashes to her floor and she screams again, crying now. She crawls over to him, going, "Oh my god, Eddie! Eddie are you okay? What the heck happened?" And he's a wilting mass of a boy with a painfully broken arm and he's sobbing as much as she is and he just word vomits the whole thing to her. She moves closer and cradles him and they both just cry all over each other, and only when the sobbing slows to sniffles does she reach for the phone on her bedside table and call 911.

Post-that they'd come up with some story about him dicking around to explain the broken arm, they stash his lunchbox in her ceiling and she tries to cover up the smell as best she can before the ambulance gets there. Eventually this gossip gets out from the hospital to the rest of Hawkins--the head cheerleader and Larry Munson's son, can you imagine!--including Dustin and the party. Dustin catches up with them at some point (because they're inseparable after the fact, trauma bonding and all) and Eddie's got Zeppelin II on repeat in his walkman, and after some cryptic back-and-forth the actual story comes up and we get down to business. The rest of the party are collected, the other victims come become apparently, and Eddie and Chrissy are there for the whole shebang; they fall in love over the course of the insanity, but they don't act on it.

In the end it would be Eddie, not Max, who lures Vecna, and Chrissy who has to protect him against jilted Jason (who has convinced himself that Chrissy and Eddie were fucking around behind his back). Eddie starts to see his own worth through hiding in his good memories, holds on to Chrissy's perception of him, and helps Eleven finish the job. The party succeeds and kills Venca, NOBODY DIES and there's no hell canyon, but of course it's all a last minute thing for drama.

Eddie and Chrissy share their first kiss in the aftermath of Vecna's defeat, on the floor of the attic of the Creel house.

Thanks for the ask, anon!

Send Me an AU and I'll Give You 5+ (Rambling) Headcanons You'll find my growing collection of headcanons in this tag.

[auxiliarydetective]

OC Halloween Challenge - Day 13

You can find the challenge here!

Today's prompt was...

Have Killer Fun At Summer Camp!

It’s Friday The Thirteenth… literally. For today, the location is a summer camp like the one Jason Voorhees terrorizes. Counselor, killer, or camper? Whatever role your oc plays, they certainly didn’t read this in the brochure.

First of all, R.I.P. to the camp counselors who fell victim to the killer (they lost the poll):

Kit Kelley

human!Chandrah (aka Charlie Drake but a real human this time)

And now, the best camp counselor in the entire world, according to you guys:

Iris hit her head against the roof of the cabinet when she suddenly heard a group of kids screaming. She pulled her head out of the fuse cabinet and shook the dizziness out before closing the door and straightening up. It was pitch black night outside now that the power had gone out. But now, she had another problem to worry about: By the sound of it, some of the smaller kids had snuck into the forest on their own. Iris grabbed her flashlight and started making her way outside. The moment she stepped into the cool night air, she could see flashlights bobbing at the edge of the woods, along with worried squeals. Not much later, a group of kids came bolting down the main path.

"Help!" Annie, a girl with blonde curls gasped. "Help, someone's dead!"

"Dead?" Iris echoed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Mike agreed, clutching his novelty flashlight. "He was all bloody and his eyes were rolled back and-"

Immediately, the other kids started complaining in disgust and fear. Quickly, Iris shushed them. "I'll take a look, alright? Can you show me where you found him?"

"I'm not going back there!" Melissa immediately cried and Annie joined her. But Mike agreed to lead Iris back to the place.

So, Iris accompanied the two girls back to their tent and wrapped them in a blanket, hinting at Kellye to look after them. Then, she grabbed a first aid kit and followed Mike into the forest. She wondered how the kids had even gotten this far. Mike's flashlight was terrible, barely illuminating a few feet. Maybe that meant that the kids had seen something else. What were the chances that they could have actually found a corpse? With Iris's much brighter flashlight, they would know for sure. She felt Mike tug loosely at her fingers. Quickly, she took his hand into hers, squeezing it lightly.

"It’s alright, big guy. I've got you."

That was when she spotted something in the distance. It really did look human-shaped. She even thought she could make out a uniform just like the one she was wearing.

"There he is," Mike mumbled.

Iris felt her steps becoming quicker. Half of her brain had already made a realization, but the other half was trying to fight it. It really was a corpse, a corpse wearing a camp counselor uniform just like hers, a corpse with black hair. She almost fell to her knees at his side and gasped.

"Hawkeye..."

[thepinemax]

Theory :)

So the girl Vecna/Henry met in the trailer of the stranger things play seems VERY similar to the counselor in season 4, maybe she has a connection to him? Maybe she survived Henry and changed name since apparently the counselor's name is Patty and counselor's name is Kelley. Both names have two of one letter and a y, I might be wrong but ever since I first watched Stranger things season 4, I thought Kelley was evil. Maybe I was sort of right? I believe Kelley and Henry fell somewhat in-love, he told her about his powers and she accepted him, supported him, and treated him like a normal human being. It made him feel normal and safe around her. The scene where Henry has Patty and some other guy in the attic, stuck in those upside down tentacles; I think the guy somewhat manipulated him or maybe just made him pissed off, causing him to go into that mode where he, goes crazy or sum idfk. But anyways, I think Patty managed to talk him out of it and she survived, he told her to run away or something and she did, she changed her name and started a new life. ALSO do we even know Kelley's last name??? We don't, which makes my suspicions even higher. Maybe she came back to Hawkins to prevent potential ''special'' kids like him to go crazy or mad like he did. I would appreciate it if y'all could share your thoughts about this, do you think it's possible or not? I def think it might be true

[questioningalllifechoices]

y’all remember the guidance counselor, ms. kelley?

can we talk about how somethings definitely up with her? because why is there a clock on her necklace? why was everyone that was cursed seeing her?…i don’t trust her. idk how but she’s gonna be relevant next season and IF she is it’s gonna have something to do with vecna getting to mike.

she’s just as if not more sketchy than owens…

[dee-dee-monster]

Then Out of the Aether - (Ch. 8)

Summary:  You all have a great night. Unexpectedly, you and Eddie owe it to Nancy Wheeler. 

Warning: None

A/N Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader. 

< Click here to find previous chapters >

Hellfire Club doesn’t take a break for the holidays. 

You shouldn’t be surprised.

You aren’t, really. You’d just nodded along last week when Dustin asked if you would give him a lift to and from Mike’s house instead. He'd given you the times and demanded you write it down somewhere so you couldn’t possibly forget!

You’d urged him to slow his roll and told him to ask again more politely.

He had.

Eventually.

With an eye-roll.

But, once he did, you had  agreed to do some amended Friday chauffeuring.   Which is why you are now sitting around the kitchen with Nancy Wheeler.

Dustin had waited until your arrival to inform you the game was going long (“Eddie added a surprise for the holiday! And, yes, Mrs Wheeler said it’s fine!) so it’s this or head downstairs and risk being accused of rushing him.

And, anyway, you like Nancy just fine.  You might not be best friends, but she's nice and you've known her a long time. You had started off talking about Jonathan – easy – and drifted to talk of college.

Incidentally, it’s not a topic you love.

It makes you nervous even though it’s a conversation that comes up all the time these days. You just…don’t really know what you want to do or where you'll go to do that mysterious something.

You have applied to a few state colleges because a big part of you would like to get out of Hawkins…but you’ve also applied to community college so you can stick close. Partially because of being lost re: the future, but…you are also reluctant to leave Dustin and your mom.

Maybe that’s lame, but those are the facts.  

You certainly don’t have the detailed plans that Nancy does.

You are happy to listen, though. You can picture her ideas working out just as she says – she’s always had a quiet determination about her that makes what she says seem obvious.

“...I can’t wait,” she concludes her point about moving away.

You understand that – truly. Hawkins has had some bad memories for both of you. And yet…part of you squirms at her steadfast declaration.

Which is fine. You remind yourself Ms Kelley, the guidance counselor, says people cope in their own way and in their own time. She also says it’s normal not to have your whole future mapped out at 19 years old …

But sometimes it sure seems like you’re the only one. When conversation lulls you let Nancy know you can go join the crew downstairs. If she has better things to do, you don’t mind.

“No, don’t worry – I won’t subject you to that,” she laughs.

You don’t tell her you don’t think it’s so bad.

Still, the two of you keep chatting about school and the holidays, and you try not to let yourself think she’s only  doing this because her dad is in the living room and expects her to be a good hostess. Feet eventually come plodding up the stairs; Mike and Lucas buzz through without a word.

“We are going to check out some of Mike’s old figurines!” Dustin blurts at you on the way past.

“...I guess I’ll just sit here,” you gripe.

“Cool!” he ignores your tone entirely.

Awesome.

Jeff and Eddie emerge next with more poise.

“Hey,” Jeff lingers to greet the both of you.

“Hey – sorry to go late,” Eddie beseeches you.

“S’okay – Dustin should’ve said something,” you assume this Holiday Special was forewarned about and it had either slipped his mind or he thought you wouldn't agree to the timetable.

“Yeah. I could’ve given you a heads-up, though,” Eddie insists, and you wonder if it’s for your convenience or if he thinks he should’ve let you know your normal Friday is…maybe forfeit. You glance at the stove clock.

Gareth shoulders past Eddie with a little smirk behind his back.

“Next time,” you assure him and watch Gareth and Jeff shunt each other away toward the stairs.

“For sure…you’re cool waiting a while longer?” he throws a thumb up to gesture to the next floor. “I can give him a ride…”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m here now."

“Yeah…Wheeler, you good?” he checks with her, too.

“... …very good,” you catch a tone from her.

You hear Mr. Wheeler mutter a “guess I’m good, too” from the next room, but Eddie either doesn’t hear him or Mike had already advised that he could be more or less ignored.

“...’kay. We’ll be back…”

He jogs to the stairs to catch up and sends a last small wave before disappearing past the landing.  

When you straighten around, Nancy is biting her lip to (poorly) smother a smile.

“...what?”

She widens her crinkled eyes and points up the stairs.

Ugh.

“Stop”

Nancy hisses your name in a surprised little gasp.

“Don’t”

“...you two?” she keeps her voice down because she is a sensible girl despite the giddy look growing in her eyes.

“No,” You tell her, though somehow when you say it…it doesn’t feel true. “I don’t now,” you whisper; then, more definitively: “No.”

“Uh-huh. Okay. Out with it”

You scowl at her.

“This isn’t an investigative journalist moment, Nance”

“Duh,” she hunches over the table. “But still. What’s the deal? Because that was…something.”

The deal.

The deal?

You don’t know, which is half your problem, really.

Long gone are the days when you lamented not being “cool” or having a whole gaggle of best friends and a trail of ex-boyfriends. However, you have recently been wishing that Eddie didn’t make you feel so…unsure. That you had more experience with this flirty, are-we-aren’t-we excitement so that you would know what should be done or if it’s just you or…or something.

Lindsay knows your side of things, but she’s declared herself more clueless than you. So. Ya know – not helpful.

Nancy, on the other hand…

Hmm.

“He…seems nice,” she encourages you. “I mean…I don’t really know him outside of Mike and the Club, but…” she shrugs, unable to offer much more substance.

But it’s a nice gesture.

You remind yourself she’s dating Jonathan, who was a total pariah for a while, so…so she doesn’t blindly buy stereotypes and rumors.

“He is nice,” you confirm.

Nancy smiles and leans happily across the table.

You cast a wary glance toward the living room where Mr Wheeler is watching TV, but you can’t imagine he cares about teenage gossip…

So you give Nancy the broad strokes of the situation in a hushed tone.  She eats it up with wide, earnest eyes and approving nods along the way.

“... I’ve got an idea…” Those simple words lead you to The Hideout the following Tuesday with Nancy and your respective brothers. Plus Lucas, of course – still in sweaty practice gear under his sweatshirt.

The boys are stoked.

Nancy seems cool as a cucumber.

You …are wondering if you’re a total idiot.

You shouldn’t worry so much, you know. This is a public space. Even if it wasn’t, Eddie has invited you to see the band before, so…

Maybe you’re feeling squirrely about lying.

The lie being that Nancy is looking into writing a story about Corroded Coffin for the school newspaper (though she has assured you she truly might if something strikes her fancy).  She invited you once she saw that you knew the members of the band better than she did.

Simple as that.

According to Nancy, anyway.

Your brothers had certainly bought it when you invited them along as cover. They didn't question it even a little once they heard where you were going -- yes. Duh! Let's go!

It had made so much sense when Nancy laid it out… “...isn’t he in a band?” she recalled what little she knew about Eddie beyond her brother’s game.

“Yeah”

“That’s pretty cool…so do you go? You know, to cheer him on?”

You pictured groupies in cheerleader skirts and grinned.

“No. I’ve never been”

“Why not!?”

You opened your mouth to answer but realized you didn’t really have a reason. You’ve talked about his band plenty. You just…haven’t taken the next step.

“I don’t know…”

You’d been keeping an eye on the stairs, so you missed the calculating look on Nancy’s face at first… …

“We need to go”

You snapped your gaze back to her. Come again? And who is “we”?

“What?”

“I’ve seen their posters. They play at The Hideout sometimes. I’ve never been there…”

This fact didn’t seem like a deterrent, though. The cogs were definitely turning in Nancy’s mind.

It felt exciting.

But you also wanted to tell her to shut up.

“Yeah,” you confirmed anyway. “On Tuesdays...”

“Every Tuesday?” Nancy lit up.

You couldn't help that your chest hitched liked her sudden anticipation was contagious.

“Pretty sure. But, look, I don’t really think it’s your scene…”

You weren’t sure it was yours, either, and maybe you should’ve said that because Nancy straightened her shoulders in offense.

“...I have to get used to anywhere being my scene,” she declared…then she was suddenly smiling.  “That’s it. I’ll say I’m checking out a possible story for the school paper…”

“...about music?”

“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged. “I’ll come up with a possible angle. You never know, but it’ll be my reason to be there. I saw you knew Eddie and made you come with me!”

“Nancy…”

“Don’t you want to?’

Yes.

Obviously.

Of course.

Your heart was happy with the idea already. Your mind was the problem – your thoughts were already spinning to what you’d wear and what you’d say, and would you stand out like a sore thumb? Will the guys think it’s silly for you to be there? Would Eddie?!

…you didn’t think he would.

Fact remained you could be totally lame, though.

“And Mike and Dustin can come!”

You knew Dustin would love that. And, well, you had definitely thought about going. The idea that Eddie would know you came for him always gave you pause…

But.

That hadn’t stopped him from coming to your house the previous week, had it? No. Probably because he wasn’t as ridiculous as you and your silly worries…

Nancy was handing you a very nicely wrapped solution - if Eddie gave you shit for being there you didn’t have to blush through whatever “Well, I thought it was time I see you in action” answer you could come up with. Now you had a reason, however contrived it may be. Buffers, too…

“I do want to check it out,” you admitted.

Nancy downright wiggled in her seat. More for the sake of a small scheme and something new to do than a deep investment in whoever you may have a crush on, probably.

“Dustin and Mike will definitely be in,” you added.

Nancy’s hair bounced with her nod.

“They’ll be annoying, but I’ll play wingman,” she promised in a soft whisper as something one of the guys said upstairs drifted down to your ears. “Wing-woman…”

“Nancy, it really isn’t like that…”

A “yet” played in your mind, but you never said it aloud.

Her answering smile was too knowing for your taste.

Geeze. Just how obvious were you?

You’re feeling super obvious as your little crew finds a table at the sizable but sparse bar.  The five of you are bringing the median age of the place down by quite a bit, but no one is batting an eye.

You suspect no one bats an eye at much of anything around here.

There is a low stage at one side of the bar. Drums and guitars are set up with a couple mic stands, but there’s no band members in sight. You picture  them out back smoking cigarettes by the trash cans…maybe there are some old folding chairs sitting around, too.

The visual seems…right. And good.

‘We aren’t glamorous, but everybody starts somewhere,’ Eddie has told you. 'I mean – Hetfield and Ulrich found each other in some dinky newspaper, and now we have Metallica!  You just never know…”' 

He wasn’t even cocky when he talked about that…maybe not even optimistic. Just open. Sure that something could happen.

‘Anyway, playing for anyone is a blast,’ he’d also told you.

“Anyone” is currently a partially full bar of half-interested folks. More than the “few drunks” he keeps claiming make up the crowd.

Still. Your little crew has increased the audience…and you reassure yourself Eddie will love that. He will.  He won’t think this is lame.

As sure as you are of that fact, you still feel a nervous type of excitement while you shed your coat.

“I’m not sure they’ll come to the table,” Nancy is taking a more practical eye to the situation. “I’ll go grab drinks…”

“They’ll serve us beer?” Mike asks in awe.  

It earns him a pitying sort of look from his sister.

“No. You can have a Coke,” she explains.

You aren’t convinced they would care about your IDs here, but yeah - you’re not drinking with your brothers.

“I’ll help you,” Lucas offers since you two aren’t his sisters and so he’s compelled to be on top tier behavior.

Nancy smiles and leads him up to the bar with her.

“...are you going to drink?” Dustin eyes you dubiously.

“No,” you keep the party line. “And if you even think about trying to sneak something, then –”

“Oh please,” he shows no interest in your threats.

“I mean it, Dust”

You give Mike the stern look, too, in Nancy’s honor.

“What do I care about alcohol?” Dustin goes on. “Kill my brain cells? Yeah right – they’re my free ride,” he taps his temple.

Freshmen.

“Good,” is all you say.

You sling your coat over the back of a chair to signal finality.

“They’re late going on…” Mike is studying his watch.

“That’s Metal,” Dustin states like it’s obvious, and he has already flopped into his seat ready to wait.

Your chortle as you sit down, too. Nancy and Lucas are back in a couple minutes to slide glasses around the table.

“Hope you didn’t actually want a drink,” Nancy leans in to mutter to you once she sits at your side. “That bartender was already a little leery of the boys…I didn’t want to push it.”

“Really?” you glance at the bar, wondering if you’ll see him watching or heading over.

“Yeah, but I explained we go to school with the band – he thought it was nice we came out,” Nancy smiles.

It’s clear she is pleased to have gotten the proverbial greenlight from the establishment. You are, too, honestly.  It eases some part of you that was tense about bringing Dustin somewhere he might not be allowed. The boys’ muted chatter kicks up with some nudging and hand gesturing.

You look away from Nancy and see the band file in and head to their instruments from somewhere stage left. Eddie jumps the small distance to lope toward his guitar, and you grin.

Then you school yourself because Nancy is near and far too observant. Between exchanging words and getting themselves settled, it takes a minute before they notice they have friends in the crowd.  

It’s something of a waterfall.

Jeff spots them first and does a double-take. Smirking, he waves a hand at Matt and toes at the back of Eddie’s knee to nod at the group.  Matt gives a subdued, but seemingly pleased, grimace-grin to Dustin and Mike waving obnoxiously.

Eddie beams when he takes you all in.

For a second…it feels like the gesture is just for you.

Which. You know. It’s silly. Mike and Dustin are the ones sending the big waves and bouncing happily in their seats. You aren’t the standout here, though you are excited.

….but you enjoy the moment of feeling Eddie is staring right at you. This whole night is an indulgence, really, so you can give yourself this.

None of the guys deign to wave back, but they nod in acknowledgement.  Gareth clocks the others’ attention and raises a drum stick in a vague “hello” before counting them in. Honestly, Dustin’s cheer of “hell yeah!” is pretty spot-on.

They’re good.

Like Eddie had told you, they primarily play covers, most of which you are familiar with. Some of it is a little reigned in, and the idea they’d been told they were too loud (or something similar) makes you grin as you nod along to a song.

Meanwhile, Dustin is thrashing his head a little harder…he’s probably the superior fan. Which is fine. These are pretty good guys to look up to, all things considered.  

Nancy…doesn’t look like she dislikes the music, but she looks more interested in the whole event overall than the music.

Fair enough.

The GoGos are more her vibe. Or ABBA – you know she likes them. “Oh…” she perks up later in the set.

You’d been busy watching the bathroom for Dustin’s return, but you look round and Nancy is eyeing the stage with renewed interest. Everything looks the same up there…but as you listen you realize what you’re hearing.

“Is...this Madonna?” Lucas crinkles his nose just lightly.

It is.

Unrecognizable at first, but this is definitely ‘Into the Groove.’ Or, rather, Corroded Coffin’s take on it.

“That’s cool,” Nancy looks appreciative.

You are smiling, too. Beaming, maybe.

The band had taken music that wasn’t for them and shaped it to their tastes! It feels like a very Eddie thing to do. (You know it must have been a team-effort, but the fact remains…it fits).

You love it.

A couple songs later, they do the same thing with an Elton John song!  Rather than reproduce Black Sabbath or Megadeth again, they speed things up and go harder on the lyrics to make it a whole thing.

All their music is enjoyable, but you can’t help your smile widening as they fit in a guitar solo on ‘I’m Still Standing,’ of all the damn things.

“...they’re good, right?” Nancy’s wearing a fresh grin.

“Yeah,” you laugh.

She waggles her eyebrows at you – only, you think, because the boys are turned away and occupied. Good - because you know you blush.

“Eddie’s good,” she leans closer so she doesn’t have to talk too loudly.

Smiling, you nod again.

“...I hadn’t given a lot of thought to who sang…” she adds.

Eddie. It’s Eddie.  Matt, too, as needed.

“Yeah. It’s…cool…”

It’s hot, is what it is, but you can’t bring yourself to say so aloud.

But it is.

So hot.

Eddie looks good up front. Sturdy. Sure. In control. Happy . Even if he wasn’t so good on the guitar, you think maybe he’d be able to hide it behind his exuberance.

“Very cool...”

Nancy is smirking, and you hate her.

Except for how you don’t – because she’d gotten you here. Who knows how long you would’ve waited otherwise.  For that, Nancy is awesome.

…but her smirk can go to hell.

“Glad we came?” She checks quietly as songs transition.

“Definitely”

She knocks you with her elbow, still grinning.

You don’t recognize the next song, so you let yourself just kind of bask in appreciating simply making it here... “Thank you, Hawkins,” Eddie is half-shouting a couple minutes later.

The loudest applause – and a sharp whistle, courtesy of Mike – come from your table, but there’s a modest smattering of clapping throughout the place.

Eddie says something to the guys and gestures, then hops off the stage and cuts across the room in your direction.

Well.

Not just you. But, once again, it feels like it for a moment…

“Dude!” Dustin greets him.

Eddie is short of breath but wearing a bright smile when he reaches the edge of the table. He is practically floating…and he looks a little sweaty. Should that be gross?

…because it totally isn’t.

“Hey…” he beams around, then lands his eyes on you. “You guys sticking around?”

“Yeah,” Dustin nods.

Eddie laughs.

You glance at Nancy, who nods.

“Yes…”

“Cool, yeah…we have to go clear-up some of our shit, but we’ll be back in a bit…cool,” he adds again, laughs a little, and then leaves in a ruffle of black jeans and t-shirt to hurry back up front to do his share of packing up.

“Should…we help?” Mike asks the table.

“Wanna be a groupie?” Dustin laughs.

“I’m just saying”

“We could…” Lucas shrugs.

“Dude, do you even know how?” Dustin scoffs as if he does.

Thus ensues bickering.

Typical. Knowing it might only jazz them up more, you head up tot he bar for fresh drinks. Its better than sitting and waiting and getting antsy. . Eddie’s more hyped than usual to head back inside after they pack up his van and share a joint.  Walshe – the bartender – will usually let them have a drink or two, and they typically chat with some regulars, but tonight …tonight feels like having actual fans.  People who came just for Corroded Coffin.

They are friends…but still.

It’s a very cool feeling, is the thing.

The thrilled feeling stutters awkwardly in his chest when they go back inside and you are missing from the table.  Eddie's rational mind kicks in soon enough, and he knows you must be around because the other four are still there.  

His eyes skim toward the restroom of their own accord and, on the way, he spots you up at the bar.

Eureka!

His feet reroute him in your direction.

You are wedged between a barstool and one of the regulars who must've wandered over to chat with you. He’s a middle-aged guy Eddie has seen around before. Quite dude.  Maybe you know him.

Eddie can’t help giving you a once over. You look nice. Dark tights under black shorts and some slouchy kind of sweater.  It fits in. Cute but grungier than your normal schoolwear…and you certainly stand out less than Wheeler in her blouse…like you’d thought about where you were coming and why.

He tries not to think too hard on the idea you’d done so for him.

It’s kind of hard when you look this good, though… “Hey Elder Henderson,” he arrives at your side

You start just a little, but your face lightens when you see him, and a smile splits over your face…Eddie’s not ashamed to say this makes him feel nice.

“Hi…”

You hurry to step back, pushing a stool aside to make room for him.

The guy who’d been talking to you huffs when Eddie steps into the space you leave. Eddie glances his way, then back to you… …you continue to smile his welcome.

O-kayyyy…

The other man moves off, and Eddie might normally apologize for interrupting… but that’s not the vibe he’s gettin

“Thanks,” you sigh.

“...yeah?”

You nod and glance past him. Eddie follows your gaze, but the guy is climbing into a stool few seats away now.

“He was kind of weird…”

Shit.

Jesus fucking Chr –ugh!

Eddie turns his body fully toward you to block you from view.  

He should’ve fucking clocked that. He’s been to enough concerts and shifty venues to know better, hasn’t he?  He’s pretended to be someone’s boyfriend a few times until they could find their friends – he knows some people just want to ruin a good thing with selfishness or behavior they think is funny or…well.

People are douchebags, is the thing.

No surprise there.

“I can grab whatever you’re up here for if you want to go back to the table,” he advises.

It’s the least he can do. You’d come here to see him, after all.

Err. Ya know. To see the band, of which he is simply a part…

“Nah,” you brush that off and relax a little with your elbow on the bar. “Can’t miss the chance to be seen with the lead singer…”

Ooof.  Eddie has to stop himself from puffing up his shoulders, but he has to admit to himself that he enjoys the implication.

“You forgot talented guitarist…” he plays it cool and teasing instead.

You fling your head back in a laugh.

“Oh, I didn’t forget…”

He smiles.  

“...I like the headband,” you add, looking him over.

Shitdamn, he is going to melt! Is he melting?

He loves hearing you notice him. If that's wrong then, well...too late.

“Yeah?” he pretends he absolutely isn’t blushing. “Matt thinks it’s a little much…”

The headband is both a vibe he likes and a practical way to keep his hair out of his face when he gets into the music. If you like it, he’ll keep it on his list of shit to remember for gigs.

“Eh, what does he know – he doesn’t have your hair…”

That feels like a compliment. Maybe not explicit, but Eddie will definitely tally it in the complement column. No one can stop him.

He should compliment you, too

…not like it would be hard. You look so nice. He doesn’t want to sound like a weirdo, though - especially in light of the dude behind him. Is commenting on your eyeliner rude? Does complimenting your outfit give away that he’d been looking at your body?

Shit.

He’s totally overthinking, and he’s not necessarily his best when he’s overthinking…

Maybe he’ll just say nothing.

“So,” you fill the silence his contemplation left. “Madonna, huh?”

Eddie laughs and latches onto the topic.

“You liked that?”

“Yeah. Nancy realized what it was before I did,” you allow her the credit. “You never mentioned you cover anything like that…”

It’s something they’ve been working on this year.

“We call it rehabbing a song,” Eddie smirks. “Gotta make improvements before we’ll play it…”

“Improvements?! Wow...” you laugh, but then look away when the bartender makes his way over.

Walshe is a pretty alright dude.  Eddie can’t help but think that if he’d come over to take your order sooner he would’ve discerned the guy down the bar had been bothering you and would’ve gotten him to fuck off.  

Hopefully this isn't just ruining The Hideout for you.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” Eddie tenses and watches for you to be put-off by the older man’s greeting. “More soda?”

You give him a genuine smile when you confirm the order, apparently unbothered.  Context matters.

Eddie gets that.

“You want something stronger?” Eddie offers quietly. “Walshe usually lets us have a couple drinks…”

“No,” you glance back at the table, then cast Edie a pointed look.

Right.

Brothers.  Kind of lame sometimes, he’s gathered. Besides, Eddie isn’t sure Wheeler even likes to hang. She is here, though, so maybe she does…

“Gottcha …so how come you’re here with Wheeler, of all people?” he has to ask.

“...I thought you liked her?”

Eddie blanches.

Then he realizes you aren't implying he likes her likes her. He remembers discussing Nancy and her Yearbook interview with Hellfire Club; he’d told you about it back when you’d first discussed his Douche Rating System.

Christ, but that feels like such a long time ago.

It was only last semester…

“Sure, I like her fine,” Eddie shrugs. “But I didn’t know she was jonesing for live music … …and I didn’t know you’d come to a gig with her.”

Not that he’s picture what it would be like if you came to a gig or anything…

But he had definitely thought you’d show up with Lindsay. The two of you did all sorts of stuff together. Those concerts with Lindsay’s aunt, sleep overs, running off to Somerset for a showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show (Eddie had been highly offended to be left out of that one, and you’d promised he could join the tradition next Fall).

But Nancy Wheeler? Nah, he hadn’t pictured you showing up with her.

…because he pictured nothing. Obviously.

Christ, he lies to himself too fucking much...

“I know,” you laugh but prove his theory. “She was asking me about your band when we were all at the Wheelers over the weekend…”

“She was?”

You look a little squirrely for a moment, but nod in affirmation.

“Mmhmm, she thought it sounded cool and wanted to come in case it would be a good story for the school’s newsletter…”

Oh.

Knowing it was Nancy Wheeler’s idea to come probably shouldn’t cause an itch in Eddie’s chest – you’re here, and that’s what matters. You’d liked the music. You’re into his headband. You’re over here talking to him.

Those things are a big deal, no matter how it had come about.

In fact, he should probably be geeking on the potential publicity of getting mentioned in the school newspaper. It doesn’t have wide distribution or anything, but any word of mouth could help.

“So she dragged you along, huh?”

No, no, no – stop acting put-out!

Ugh! He can’t just be a whiny bitch about it.

“Yeah, she really twisted my arm. Threatened me and everything,” your sarcasm is some balm to his pride.

Which is stupid.

He’s fine.

Everything is fine. More than fine.

“...I’ve been meaning to come check you guys out,” you hand Eddie just what he’d wanted, and his gut swoops. “I even mentioned it to Linds a while back, but…” you shrug.

“...but what?” he eggs you on.

You shrug again. First one shoulder, and then both in an awkward little wiggle.

“I…wasn’t sure if we’re the kind of fans you wanted. I don’t know…”

Eddie laughs.

He can’t help it.

“When did I give you the impression we’re picky about our crowd?” Eddie gestures to the bar at large with a sweep of his hand.

Fucking ridiculous.

“I don’t know!” you laugh a little, too, and you’re blushing but it's cute and he decides not to mention it. “We’re just friends from high school, not…”

You gesture out at the bar, too, but in a smaller and more unsure way.

Eddie rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. So you see it. So you won’t think something like that again.

Then he makes a show of meeting your eye.  

“I’m glad you came”

Your smile is small, but it crackles in your eyes. It’s the real deal.

“...me too.”

Eddie’s smirking. He knows he is. How could he not? He’s proud, okay? Of course he wants you to like his band and his music and his people. Obviously he does. He wants…

He just wants, alright?

Maybe he shouldn’t. But he does.

And he kind of thinks that you know it. Kind of thinks you want something, too, sometimes. If he was a little less of a fucking freak then maybe he'd have a better inkling of what his next step should be.

“Gonna come again?” He hedges his bets because he’s a little high on hubris.

And a little weed.

This doesn't feel like a horrible step. Especially because you're holding his gaze and still grinning.

“Umm…yeah. Yeah, probably. If–” Then Dustin is suddenly shouldering between the two of you.

“What’re you doing up here? Hey man!”

And, yeah, maybe Eddie enjoys Dustin more than a little bit, but boooo! Bad timing! Isn’t he supposed to be smart? Can’t he read the room?

…then again, maybe he’d read it a little too well and bustled his way up here on purpose. That’s very possible.

Eddie honestly hasn’t given a lot of thought to the fact that he’s crushing on his friend’s sister. Maybe because Dustin is young and doesn’t seem like a threat.

Or maybe because, up until very recently, Eddie’s been trying to pretend it’s just a friend thing.

That friends listen to music together and engage in hobbies together. They definitely play games and watch movies together. It’s probably okay to sort of cuddle-up with a friend when doing some of those things, too.  And it’s totally normal to worry about a friend and drive across town to check on said friend and their little brother…

And, like…it’s normal to be flattered a friend comes to your gig, yeah? And to check out her legs in her shorts. And...ya know, to stare at her lip when she bites at it like you are right now…

Okay, maybe he’s veering off of normal!

Maybe he should stop pretending to pretend it’s a friend thing.

Whatever.

Dustin’s timing is piss – that’s the point here.

And Eddie wants to hear the rest of your answer…

“These for us?” Dustin is pointing at the sodas Walshe has set in front of you.

“Yes,” Eddie shoves a few into his hands. “We’ll be right there.”

“What about–”

“Nancy told me to come help,” Mike arrives, too, and Eddie hates all of them.

He doesn’t.

…but he does.

“Perfect. Here,” you hand Mike two other glasses. “Eddie’s got to grab a drink; we’ll be right back.”

Mike heads back to the table, and Dusitn looks hesitant but follows behind his friend since it’s apparently now the thing to do. Eddie’s eyes dart to the boys’ destination and finds Nancy watching.

Huh.

…okay.

The other senior isn’t smiling, but she still manages to look pleased somehow. Eddie gets the impression Nancy Wheeler will be a very good journalist.

“... …so you were saying?” he swings his attention back to you.

“Uh…oh, I was saying I’ll probably be able to get Lindsay to join me. To come back here, I mean,” you explain like he could’ve possibly forgotten the subject – perish the thought! “Or I guess Nancy…she was into most of it, I think.”

Eddie remembers you saying Nancy had recognized ‘Into the Groove’ quickly and was digging it. Maybe she’s not such a square.

“...although Dustin might be on high alert anytime I leave the house on a Tuesday now.”

He joins you when you laugh but doesn’t doubt you.

He glances back over to the table and finds that Dustin is the one watching, now. Like he can hear he’s part of the conversation…or like he’s getting suspicious.

Eddie sighs.

As much as he’d like to keep you over here and to himself, it’s probably past time to go join the group. He waves Walshe down for a few more sodas – he figures he can forgo booze for tonight, too – and helps you carry them back to the table. He saunters as he does, ready to ham-up the adoring fan angle of having all of his favorite nerds here and in one place.

He makes sure to specifically thank Wheeler for coming out, too – even calls her Nancy when he does so, real polite like. He owes her for being the orchestrator of the evening.

And it’s a good night.

Though it’s only a Coke in his hand, it’s fun to talk and laugh with his friends. Sure he likes the compliments to the band, too, but it’s just nice and easy. All of it. Even humoring the requests the Freshmen have for covers (Dustin’s demand for a “Like a Surgeon” cover is flat-out vetoed, though).

Being knee-to-knee with you at the table certainly doesn’t hurt.

Which, ya know…definitely probably isn’t just a friend thing…

Next Chapter >>>>