My Favorite Poison - Chapter One
overall synopsis: billy meets a girl. billy and said girl hit it off. but like most things in life… they don’t always have a happy end. 99% of the time they don’t, but he’s holding onto that 1% like his life depends on it. and then everything goes downhill.
content warnings: swearing, fighting, cheating, arguing, typical highschool behaviour, n*il hargrove, implied sexual content towards the second half of the book, more content warnings to be added
author’s notes: please, be kind. it costs nothing. billy’s backstory is inspired by nate jacobs’ but billy actually turns out to be the good guy unlike nate. italics are thoughts (mostly). get your popcorn and enjoy watching these idiots bicker over a school project and other things ��bee.
i’m super nervous about this one, i hope at least one person likes this story…
tagging: @myobmaya @steveslittlesunflower @thisishellfire @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellfirehaley @corrodedhawkins @quickiesgirl @taecube @eddies-bat @wzrlds @fxllfaiiry @liviawritesthings @eddiebillysteve @fleetwood-mac-demarco if you would like to be added, please let me know!
masterlist and playlist coming soon!!
part two
please do not copy or repost to another site or on your own blog, i have spent so much time on this
chapter one: cigarettes and new faces
AUGUST 29TH 1984, HAWKINS, INDIANA
He held the flame of the lighter at the end of his second cigarette of the evening, listening to the flick of metal hitting against metal. He inhaled deeply, leaning back against the cold wall behind him, his legs tucked up to his chest as he sat on the window cill. The boy let his fragile eyelids flutter shut, images of waves, sand and the bright sunlight coursing through his mind, reminiscing about his time in California. Wishing he could go back to his home.
Nothing could kill Billy quite like being stuck in a boxing ring in his own home, where he was the punching bag. His quote unquote “home” was practically a jailhouse. Not a home, but a house. But this was just four walls, four people, four fights every night which the person who actually started them all always blamed Billy for starting them. Everything was in fours for Billy Hargrove.
Until one person disrupted those even numbers. Ruining the order in the Hargrove household, ruining everything. According to Neil; a very unreliable source, who then began taking his anger out in a heinous way.
So Billy turned to drinking alcohol and inhaling toxic fumes from the cigarettes. Smoking that amount would kill him one day. It would eventually make his pearly whites rot and fall out and his jaw would also dislocate and fall off. But he didn’t give a shit. But he would in the next hour.
He’d rather die than be in Hawkins.
And exhale, blowing the smoke back into the bathroom, watching it brush against the cloudy window panes and the cracked mirror hanging on the door at the opposite end of the room, listening to the hustle and bustle of the outside world and god-awful music from a nearby car. The hardest part about it for him was the long exhale after inhaling the death threatening substances. He hated letting go, he hated relaxing.
But it didn’t matter what he was breathing in, he hated it. He would do anything to cut off all air circulation… Letting himself exhale and let go was what led him to be thrown into this hell on Earth, Hawkins, for eternity.
Sometimes Billy thought back to the day that everything changed in his house. He was twelve years old when his dad turned on him. Neil wanted to keep everything in order and was quite obsessive, but didn’t want to do any of the work. He was the man of the house after all, and whatever he says, goes. So he forced William to start working.
When he turned thirteen he started going by Billy. Around that time he also adopted healthier habits, except he started smoking and began consuming too much alcohol. At thirteen. He also adopted a rigid diet consisting of carbs, protein and cheap cans of beer from the fridge when his mom and Neil weren’t looking. His workout schedule included surfing, swimming and running the length of the beach.
He joined the Lenora Hills basketball team as a freshman, coming out as not only the star player at the year’s end, but the team captain too. And he loved it. He loved the attention and his mom’s praise, until Neil kicked her out of the house for reasons unknown to Billy at the time, and until Susan Mayfield and her daughter, Max, showed up.
Max was a fuck-up. Billy could tell Neil didn’t like Max; didn’t think she had guts, or a brain or half a fucking clue about anything in the world except how to skateboard and be a disappointment to everyone.
He didn’t talk to Neil all that much after the switch flicked in Neil’s mind to start inflicting his anger and pain onto the child. Billy didn’t like Susan either. She was weak and a pushover. Plus, she was an alcoholic and didn’t take care of herself. What a waste. Susan could have been his saving grace.
And inhale… breathing in the smoke and letting it fill his lungs, letting it calm your senses, and then exhaling slowly. He watched with half-lidded, slightly dazed eyes as the cigarette smoke filled the small room, coating the already thick air around him.
Susan insisted on him going out for the evening, so he found himself trudging to the nearest gas station, picking an unopened box of cheap cigarettes off the ground on his way. He’d gone out to buy some, so getting free ones was a win in his book.
He kicked open one of the bathroom stall doors and locked it behind him, taking a seat on the window cill with a thin coat of chipped white paint on it that had turned a murky yellow color due to… how long it had been there, he thought.
Billy moved to Hawkins with Susan, Max and Neil after Neil kicked Billy’s mom out. Moving into a new house that was a ten minute drive from the local middle school and high school. Though he would rather work out all day and swim in the community pool, working on getting his lifeguard training certificate, than going to school. He’d rather read a fucking Shakespearean tragedy aloud than attend school. He'd rather marry somebody he hated than attend school.
And now he found himself walking down a dark alleyway, freckles of blue sky peeking out from behind the clouds full of angel tears, a street lamp flickering above him, which was surprisingly more comfortable than locking himself up (leaving the door open three inches, he wasn’t allowed to close his door) in an almost empty bedroom that might as well have been a foreign country. And exhale again.
He’d heard stories about this town; about how two young kids went missing in the same week but only one survived, about how one man was forced to look after said child and his friends because their deadbeat parents were as useful as the pythagorean theorem outside of school. But he chose to believe none of it. Max on the other hand believed everything. Her lack of brain cells allowed her to do that.
Though her IQ still wasn’t as bad as Neil’s receding hairline.
And inhale. Inhaling this shit never burned as bad the second time around… Well, not as bad as the burn he received when he tripped down the stairs in his next door neighbour slash best friend’s house, when the bare skin of his thigh dragged and scraped along the carpet. When the only person who didn’t laugh at him could barely help him because they’d both smoked one too many purple palm tree delights that day.
And so is where he was now; leaning against a damp concrete wall near a girl his age and presumably her younger sister, who looked to be around Max’s age or slightly older. As he breathed in the cool air of the autumn evening, he watched as they completed their daisy chains using the flowers from the tiny patch of grass by the flickering street lamp.
The older of the two girls noticed him out of the corner of her eye and gave him a warm smile, one that slowly began to melt his heart without him even knowing it, little creases forming around her eyes. The little girl waved at Billy, but he didn’t have it in him to wave back. He felt like he didn’t deserve it after all the shit Neil said he did; after that time at the police station when Neil accused him of abusing his own step-mother and step-sister, when in reality the real monster was Neil.
But he couldn’t help but look back at the older girl, who had wrapped her arms around the little girl’s shoulders. She had long, ash blonde hair and pretty amber eyes. Her sun kissed skin had been injected with bright, colorful ink, and the drawings covered the entirety of one of her arms. A tattoo-covered hand moved to cup the younger girl’s cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray tear.
Panic set in for Billy. Did he make her cry? Was it because he didn’t say anything to her? Should he buy her an ice cream to cheer her up? A magazine? A movie from Family Video? He flicked his lighter out of boredom and to distract himself from his thoughts, blowing smoke out into the darkness of the late summer night.
It would be better if he didn’t say anything.
His cigarettes tasted like shit but they calmed his ever growing nerves. So he kept them up. The shitty doctor he went to with his mom told him that the injections they were going to give him would fix his addiction and calm his nerves, but boy were they far from right. They just made him even worse.
They did fucking shit to help him.
“It’s the pretty boy from the pool!” He heard the younger girl, the brunette, say quietly into the blonde girl’s shoulder. Muffled, but clear and loud enough for him to hear almost crystal clearly.
The tattooed girl smiled, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s forehead. “You’re right, El! You wouldn’t know who this is, but he reminds me of James Dean, in a way.”
Her voice was sweeter than candy, and it made Billy’s skin crawl. It was the first time she’d uttered more than a word. He couldn’t tell where she was from; the sing-song tunes of a Gaelic drawl mixed perfectly in with Midwest American that warmed him more than the sun beating down on his blonde curls in a hot summer in California. And he hated it.
James Dean? Wow…
Billy grinned, smirking as he heard the little girl, El, say that she thought Billy had heard what the girl with the sweet tatties had said. The older girl hid her blushing face in her hands while the other giggled, teasing her. “Why is your face pink?”
“It’s not!”
“Is too!”
“Is not, El!”
His heart sank as the little girl ran up to him. Should he apologize now? Should he compliment her daisy chain bracelet? Should he ask her about the brown-haired girl? Should he—?
“My friend thinks you’re really pretty,” she said, bouncing up to him, now standing not even a foot away from him, practically leaning against his body. His ears perked up at the sound of her voice.
Okay. They’re not sisters.
“I know I am,” he replied plainly, flicking his cigarette again, looking down into her glassy, deep brown eyes. Eyes that made him instantly relax, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as he sighed a quiet “thank you,” to her.
El beamed, but Billy hadn’t noticed, too busy looking at the other girl. He shifted in his spot by the wall and stared, admiring how she flicked her nails together. Maybe it was a nervous thing? However, she was a stunner. Skin like soft cashmere with a sunkissed glow, gleaming amber eyes and a full plush mouth. She had her almost pin straight hair pulled into a high ponytail with her bangs falling over her forehead, her ponytail secured with a blue scrunchie; Billy’s favorite color.
She also looked strong, her arms muscled but not as much as his, with her colorful sleeve, and she had the kind of full swishy hips a boy would love to grab a hold of. And she smiled like a pageant queen.
Billy hadn’t noticed that his fingers had tangled together, kneading each other like bread dough. He hated how pretty she was. She was so out of his league, and he hated that. He hated how he wouldn’t be able to sweet talk her into a date, hated how he wouldn’t be good enough for her even though he hadn’t even spoken to her yet.
Her glossy smile wavered, and she laughed, a sound that jingled in tune with the dangling earrings she was wearing. Ones that looked almost identical to Billy’s. The sound rang in his ears louder than anything ever had before.
Is this fate?
“Come on, El,” she said, beckoning the girl back over to her, her eyes locking with Billy’s for a moment. “I’m sorry about her, she gets really excited around boys.”
Billy opened his mouth, uncharacteristically unsure of what to say. He lived by the philosophy that regrets were for another day, not today. Or, at least for a minute after he’d said something that made him sound like a fucking idiot.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. I get that excited around pretty people too.”
Her smile broke, laughter bubbling in her chest. The sweetest sound in the world was worth looking like an idiot for.
“You do? I guess that means you’re not excited right now,” she said, her voice dropping, trailing off. “I mean, why would you be? El’s pretty but she’s twelve… But whatever you’re into...”
Billy shrugged. “What if I was talking about you?”
“You were?” Her pretty mouth fell open, letting out a short gasp. Billy’s brows furrowed; she was surprised he said that?
As Billy nodded, a huge smile broke on her face, pulling at the corners of her glossy lips. However, he felt his heart beginning to shatter as she tried her hardest to conceal that beautiful smile. Each time her smile broke, so did his heart.
And he fucking hated it. He hated how easily this girl had made him crack. He hated how she didn’t see herself as beautiful or worthy. He hated how she didn’t see herself the way he saw her.
She flicked her light gaze in his direction, the force of her smile so bright he almost had to physically rub his eyes to adjust; instead he just squinted them shut for a second longer than a normal blink. That was exactly how she looked to him: a vision. One so beautiful it could bring a tear to somebody’s eye. She had the beauty of Venus, the power of Aphrodite, the grace of la primavera di Botticelli and a smile with enough adoration it could power an entire twelve lifetimes of perfect, puppy love.
“Of course I was, doll,” he replied with a chuckle from the bottom of his stomach. “Have you met yourself?”
Billy smiled back at her, running his skilful tongue over his top teeth and bottom lip, which for whatever reason looked hot. Any time she tried, it looked weird and creepy. He made it look so effortless and so, so… so…—
Billy watched as a scarlet blush crept onto her cheeks, tucking a wayward strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, biting the side of her bottom lip to distract herself from… something. Anything. She could feel herself faltering under his intense gaze.
Billy also had to look away. The longer he looked, the more he felt like he was falling. He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t just because she was too good looking for her own good. He’d met plenty of beautiful girls in his life, maybe a few who looked even more gorgeous than her, but nobody, in his entire 17 years of life had managed to knock him sideways like that that fast.
When he finally opened his mouth again, he was so busy trying to smooth talk her, that he may have insulted her. Fuck. Telling her she looked like somebody who would balance out his prettiness even after he called her beautiful. God, why won’t he stop fucking talking?
He was digging himself a grave 8 feet under instead of 6. Every word was more stupid and more flustered-sounding than the last.
But she laughed. She laughed at his stupidity, which was better than her running off with tears falling down her beautiful face. He’d take anything he could at that point.
He slowly walked over and sat down next to her, pulling his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the gas station bathroom. Bold move.
The swift movement only made the blush on her cheeks grow even more, and she now had no choice but to let him see that.
“What’s a sweet girl like you doing out here almost all by yourself anyway?” He asked after she failed to fully falter under his gaze. There was a party down the road
“I could ask you the same thing, Stud,” she replied, breath hitching in his throat as she scooted closer to him, his boots and her converse touching, something of a small spark igniting between the two as her right knee and his left knee briefly touched.
“You think I’m a sweet girl?”
“You know what I mean!” She laughed. Oh he liked the sound of her laugh.
But no. He hated it. No. Hate. Hate. He wasn’t allowed to like anything so why should he start now?
You don’t like her. Get that in your fucking head.
“What’s your name?” He asked, filling what might have been an awkward silence.
“What’s yours?” She challenged, her lips matching his cheeky smirk, politely deciding a cigarette from him when he offered.
He got to work attempting to roll a blunt from the back pocket of his jeans with his shaky fingers on the surface of the slightly damp ground next to him, cigarette dangling from his plush lips. He noticed her pushing her thighs together tighter than before, but never said anything, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.
“Are you gonna make me annoy the shit out of you until you tell me, Stud?” Shit. Fuck. Double and triple times fuck. He forgot about that.
“It’s Billy,” he said, exhaling, the area around them filling with a soft haze of gray smoke, clouding both of their minds even more.
“Sloane,” she replied. “Got a surname?” I wish I didn’t. “…Or are you just Billy?”
His stomach leapt at the way his name rolled off her tongue so perfectly, and he gulped, covering it up by pulling his cigarette. The sound of her saying his name… It was cheesy as fuck but it sounded better than any song he’d ever heard. “It’s Hargrove.”
“Mitchell,” she said, slipping something into the pocket of his denim jacket, patting the fabric twice. “Always nice to see new faces around here, Hargrove… Well, I think you’re new, I’d notice a pretty boy like you a mile away.”
Pretty boy, huh? Looked like Billy was off to a great start.
…Until he fucked it all up. Just like he did with everything he ever went near. He was destined to not have nice things.
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Fugitive Houseguest
Summary: With the townsfolk gunning for Eddie, Steve and Dustin decide he’ll be safer under the care of an old friend.
F! OC. 8657 Words. Oops.
Part 1 of 2.
Warnings:
MAJOR ST spoilers ahead.
Explicit sex scene in part 1 (Minors DNI.) There is also a hinted at sexual situation in part 2 in which OC is not in their right mind, which may make some uncomfortable. ST-esq violence. Slut-shaming (talking about that moment from volume 1, which was not okay.) Food eating mentions. Cursing.
Authors Note:
This started as a simple bandaid to cope with Volume 4. Definitely got away from me lol. It’s a fix it fic y’all!! As such you’ll see pretty clearly where I took some…artistic license to make the OC more central to the story. I hate myself sometimes I swear but this fic practically wrote itself. 😂
Much as I love my reader inserts, I felt that the protagonist in this fic just had too many specific traits to NOT be an OC. Also, some hints of OC X Billy and maybe even OC X Steve if you squint.
This is part 1 of 2, no further installments currently planned.
Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.
“Where the hell have you been?” Steve reprimanded the approaching woman as she threw her Chevy Cavalier into park.
“Went to see Raul.” She explained, still bandaged from the encounter.
Steve did a double take, eyes widening. He knew what that meant. “You do realize that it’s the end of the world, right?”
Yeah, she wanted to tell him, but it was the end of the world, again, and she would be damned if that meant canceling her appointment.
Instead she just smirks. “You have your coping skills, and I have mine.”
As he follows her to her front door of the cute house on the edge of Lover’s Lake. She unlocks it for him and lets him inside. “Did you at least come by it honestly?” Steve asked with raging sarcasm.
She snorts, playing along and upping the ante. “Unless trading some sloppy head for ink is ‘coming by it honestly,’ then I highly doubt it.”
He nearly choked, which she’d hoped for when choosing her words.
Back in Steve’s car parked in front of hers, two people huddle together, whispering.
The older of the two, a long haired boy she had not met before, asks if she’ll really be able to help.
The younger boy, Dustin Henderson, nods vigorously, explaining that it’s cool, she’s cool. The best, actually. The other man couldn’t be in better hands.
Eddie huffs at that and exits the vehicle, following Steve and her inside despite the former’s insistence that he wait in the car, so he could bring the woman up to speed.
That didn’t look like what Steve was up to. To Eddie, it looked more like flirting. Gross.
“You wanna see it, don’t you?” He hears her tease Steve as he enters without knocking, the man’s arms crossed and expression put out.
“No!” He protested, too quickly, before his eyes flashed to Eddie, Dustin entering the house behind him. His voice dropped low all at once, jokingly. “Show me later.” He muttered under his breath.
She giggled, heading over to the fridge and pulling out several glass coke bottles. Handing one to Dustin first, that giggle is still in her voice as she asks the kid how he’s been, rubbing his cheek lovingly.
Dustin was flushing, even as he lightly protested. “I have to regretfully inform you that I must reject your advances; I have a girlfriend now.”
The kid is totally serious, but the sigh she lets out is theatrical. “All the good ones are taken, huh?” She quips, eyes suddenly on Eddie, the act sobering. She seems to straighten up suddenly, down to business.
“So, we don’t speak for a couple months and you guys make it up to me by bringing me a person of interest in a murder investigation.” It’s said lightheartedly.
“Right so…His name hasn’t gone public yet, but we figured it’s only a matter of time. And if we’d managed to track him down at Reefer Rick’s then it’s safe to assume that others will too…We figured there’s nothing linking the two of you together so he should be safe here, until we can figure out a way to clear his name.” Dustin rambles.
She takes a swig of the cola, humming thoughtfully. “…So, when you say, ‘End of the world’…” she eyes the bottle. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re…in the brainstorming phase.” Steve admits.
At that she starts to mumble incoherently - raising her voice louder to punctuate a sharp rant in Spanish, that has Steve objecting.
“English, babe, English. You know I can’t understand you when you talk like that. I’m not Robin.” He soothes.
“Forget it.” She dismisses. “Just…cursing my luck. In any case, I’ll harbor the fugitive. We can work out the details later.”
“It’s Eddie.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “Eddie The Banished.” He adds dryly.
She gives a wave of her hand, “I’ll harbor the fugitive Eddie-the-banished.” She says, not missing a beat. Eddie cracks a smile for the first time in what feels like forever.
“Thanks Amilia.” Steve sighs in relief as Dustin gives her a big hug. She pats his back sweetly.
“Take care of him, yeah?” Dustin asks nervously.
‘Amilia’ draws a small ‘X’ over her chest, right above her heart. “With my life.” She swears to him.
Then the two boys make their exit, and it’s just her and Eddie, standing about awkwardly. He racked his brain for something to say. Torn between letting the woman know he’s grateful, and spitefully insisting that he doesn’t need anything but a place to crash.
Instead of all that, he starts simple. “So, uh, Amilia was it?” Eddie questions. She nods.
“You uh, you live here alone?” He asks. “I mean, uh, your boyfriend’s not gonna randomly show up and want to kick my ass, right?”
“It’s just me. Last boyfriend I had kind of got brutally murdered by a spider creature from another dimension 8 months ago.” The words are about as lighthearted as her clarification that Eddie was wanted for murder.
Eddie is surprised. He opens his mouth, and then closes it, sheepishly admitting. “I had a crush on the girl they think I killed…and now…my memories of her will forever be overrun by the sound of her bones snapping and the sight of her lifting off the floor.”
Giving a slow nod, Amilia takes in his downtrodden expression, voice soft. “Look at us, two traumatized souls, finding each other in this crazy world. What are the odds?” Spinning around, she grabs and raises her half drunk Coke bottle in solidarity. “To the fallen.” She toasts.
“To the fallen.” He agrees in slight surprise, touching his own bottle to hers.
Then she eyes him up and down, noting thoughtfully, “You know, you look like someone who could use a home cooked meal.”
And Eddie is rendered speechless as she stands up and heads over to take some things from the fridge.
He watches in awe, as she brings out a cutting board, jumping as she chop, chop, chops, not looking up at him, tentatively asking. “What was she like?”
“Pretty cool actually. Nice.” Eddie says it casually, like these were passable qualities indeed.
“You like nice girls?” She sounded skeptical.
It made Eddie laugh. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes.” Amilia mocks him.
“Well, what about you?” He counters.
“Sometimes.” She responds, a glimmer in her eye. “Nice is fine, but who wants it nice and easy all the time? Gotta say, I prefer a person with some range.”
Eddie finds this whole thing really odd. A week ago he was planning a brutal campaign, trying to think of how best to slaughter his friends.
Now here he was, on the hook for an actual brutal murder that he had only witnessed - in a woman’s house he’d only met today, agreeing with her on several fundamental levels.
Eddie wonders if he scratches under the surface any deeper, just how much more they’ll have in common.
“And he had range?” He smirks.
“He was a walking complexity.” She agreed.
The sadness in her voice - Eddie’s unsure if it’s akin to how he’s feeling. Feels deeper than what had happened with Chrissy. More raw. “Did you love him?” He wonders aloud.
She shakes her head. “Never got the chance.” A snort. “Still, the whole thing hurt like hell. I wonder if after that I’m even equipped to love anything beyond, like…a really good dog.”
“So cynical.” Eddie beamed in admiration.
She doesn’t mind the accusation. “Think it might have worked out between you and your crush, if she had lived?”
“Hell no.” He scoffs. “We came from two different worlds, for starters. And she also had this terrible boyfriend, who I’m sure is leading the search party for my head.”
“Yeah, well unfortunately for that guy he has to go through me first.” A threat if he’d ever heard one, Eddie hides his smile behind his drink.
She keeps cooking - more seasonings on one shelf than Eddie has in his whole trailer, which she used liberally.
“So, Amilia, just how is it that you got mixed up with the likes of me?” He asks curiously.
“Hm...I think it’s just an added bonus to being mixed up with the likes of Steve and Dustin.” She laughs. “Yeah, we uh, we worked together to save the world a few times…This is just the latest installment.” Her smile falters. “Sucks' cause I thought it was all over. Now here they are pulling me out of retirement.”
“Well ‘The Hair’ was certainly happy to see you.” Eddie says it sharply, wondering why it bothered him, but unable to deny that he couldn’t get the interaction out of his head.
“Steve?” Amilia laughs at the thought, shutting down the assumption. “Yeah I mean I guess that whole ‘bit’ came out of retirement with me. It's been hand in hand with us working together ever since we figured out a few years ago how riled up we can get Wheeler.”
Eddie considered that, the confession shining a new light on their whole meeting. He’s intrigued.
He gets her to tell him more - about their dynamic, takes from how things were before - she tells it all. Even lets him in on Steve and Nance’s tragic love life which he could have done without.
In the end though, knowing about all the supernatural crap going on in Hawkins while he was unaware, he feels just slightly better about his chances.
They’ve been doing this, apparently, for years. Finding a way out of it seems much more likely than when he was going it alone.
After they talk, maybe an hour or so later, Amilia places a plate in front of Eddie with chicken and rice, and he has to grasp every semblance of self control that he has in order not to let out an obscene moan at the first bite.
He cleans his plate, leaning back in his chair until he sees Amilia rise from another seat at the dining table, headed to the kitchen sink.
Eddie quickly scrambled to his feet once he realized her intentions. “Let me do that.” He protests gruffly.
When she gives him a funny look he takes the sponge from her hands. “Least I can do.” Is what he grumbles, gently maneuvering himself between her and a sink full of suds.
She flashes him a smile that sucks the air out of his lungs.
When the hour grows late, Amilia insists that Eddie take her bedroom, telling him that he’s been through too much to sleep on a stiff couch.
He refuses - punching a throw pillow to soften it and waving her goodnight with his many ringed fingers.
She huffs and stomps back to her room, and then she’s back, dragging a pillow and blanket with her. She stubbornly throws it on the floor in front of him, making him promise not to step on her if he gets up to pee.
Eddie laughs, commenting on how insane she is, but really he’s glad for the company.
He crashes, feeling oddly safe, warm.
He isn’t sure how long he slept but when he wakes up he finds himself in an empty house, with nothing but a note left behind with the time she’d left, that she’ll be back in an hour, tops, and to stay put.
Stay safe. She had emphasized the word, underlining it twice.
Eddie smiles crookedly before shaking his head and checking his watch - she had twenty minutes before he grew paranoid.
Only eight minutes later, he hears a car pull up so he peeks through the window shades, only to see Amilia grabbing a trash bag from her back seat, hoisting it over her shoulder.
Eddie opens the door for her, offering a hand. “Thanks,” she tells him, handing the bag off.
“What’s all this?” He asks, following her where she collapses down onto the recliner in the corner.
“Open it up,” she suggests, instead of answering. So Eddie does so.
“These are my clothes,” he says accusingly.
She merely shrugs, saying. “The crime scene isn't active anymore.” As if that explains it all.
He’s stunned - it’s just another act of hers that shows how thoughtful she is. And Eddie isn’t used to being…cared for.
Sure, Wayne leaves him cigarettes, money for food, and beer - but for all that, he doesn’t anticipate Eddie’s needs before he has them.
“Thank you.” He utters softly.
“No big deal,” she deflects, waving a hand as if she might swat the gratitude away.
“Did uh…did you happen to notice if my uncle was home?” Eddie asks, concerned about the older man.
She gives a shake of her head. “He wasn’t.”
Eddie isn’t sure if he’s saddened or relieved, hoping that the kids figure something out soon, so he can explain himself to Wayne. At the very least let him know he’s alright.
With new clothes in hand, Eddie takes a shower. Amilia directs him to a spare toothbrush under the sink and gets started on a simple lunch for the two of them.
When he emerges, toweling off his wet hair, he’s surprised to hear Judas Priest’s Love Bites blasting in the kitchen.
Once Amilia notices his approach, she hurriedly apologizes through the familiar song, before turning it down, trying to be kind and telling he can play whatever he wants if it’s not his thing.
But holy hell is it his thing, and Eddie is in awe.
What follows that realization is honestly…pure domestic bliss.
The two develop their own routine. She cooks him three meals a day. The two discuss music, books and movies. Eddie makes her laugh as much as he can, and thoughts of her invade his brain long after he’s supposed to be asleep.
By his third evening with her, he can’t take it anymore. As she sets his plate down in front of him, he catches her wrist very gently, tentatively sliding his fingers through hers.
When she raises a brow at him, he suddenly blurts. “Have dinner with me.”
She raises an eyebrow in confusion, remarking. “I was planning on it,” Only for Eddie to shake his head, flushing. “I…I mean, like, have it with me.”
Understanding washes over her at the implication. She keeps her teasing tone to hide the nerves suddenly threatening her voice. “Eddie, are you asking me on a date?”
Eddie offers his most charming smile in reply. “So what if I am?”
There were several ways she could think to respond to that - but she had to admit, she was flattered.
Eddie’s face falls a bit. “If I’m out of line at all…”
“You aren’t.” She promises.
He lights up. “Good, because uh…I really like you.”
“I really like you too.” She tells him, her confession causing him to make a face at his plate.
“Sure, I mean what’s not to like?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but visibly cringes.
“Oh you know. Just a nice guy - smart, funny, easy on the eyes.” She shrugs innocently.
“Nice?” He gasps. “Are you saying I don’t have range?” Laughs and eats more of his food.
“Yet to be seen.” She tells him, which he takes as a challenge.
“You think you’ve seen it all, hm? I hate to break it to you, you know, but there is a difference between domestic Eddie and bedroom Eddie.” He winks at her.
She holds a hand to her heart at the scandalous suggestion, derisive. “Well I wouldn't know from the first date!”
Eddie chuckled. “Alright, say I wanted to show you…how many dates are we talking about?”
“Five?” She says innocently.
“Five?!?” He blurts out, suddenly standing dramatically, waving his arms about. “Okay, let me think. The other day when you kicked my ass at Torpedo Run, that counts. We also watched a movie last night with popcorn. And today we got high and listened to Peace Sells, and I’m sorry sweetheart but if that’s not romance then I don’t know what is.”
She giggles at him, agreeing. He snaps his fingers thoughtfully. “Okay, I got it. One fifth date, coming right up.”
He disappears into the living room. “Eddie! I was kidding.” She complains.
“No, no.” Amilia hears him protest, as he starts rearranging the furniture. “We’re doing this.”
She follows him out there. He looks through her cassettes, plucking one from the pile. “Oh, this is too perfect.” Eddie chuckles. “Why would you even own this?”
He slips Elvis’ Blue Hawaii into the cassette player, to her horror.
“Oh god Eddie!” She complains in embarrassment. “I’m pretty sure this was my mother’s at some point before I was born.”
He laughs at her. “Our mom’s would have gotten along. Now come on. You brought it into this house, now you have to dance with me.” He doesn’t take no for an answer.
So she lets him pull her in tight, slowly swaying her along. Though his feet don’t really leave the floor, he’s actually not a terrible dancer.
Like everything he does, he commands the room. And Amilia’s fixation with him doesn’t go unnoticed.
After a minute he asks softly over the ukulele. “Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you.”
She gives a small nod in return, “Yes.”
Eddie smiles and leans down, pressing his lips against hers.
It’s slow, and sweet, and she’s melting in his arms thinking how she’s never fallen apart so easily, with such a simple act.
The power this man holds…Eddie smiles into the kiss - a bit cocky, like he can tell, holding her tight like he can’t get close enough.
Her arms wrap around his neck while the two kiss passionately in her living room.
And then the song is over and Eddie is aggressively spinning to turn off the tape, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“So,” she asks, her eyes flickering back towards her bedroom. “You wanna…?”
“We don’t have to, you know? I was only joking earlier. I can give you five real dates. Longer if you want.” He’s sweet, and completely serious.
He must have more optimism than she possesses, assuming that the two of them would get that kind of time. Amilia didn’t have the luxury of being so sure.
“I want you.” She tells him. And damn if that confession doesn’t almost cause his undoing right there on the spot.
He kisses her again, leaning down to grasp the underside of her thighs, picking her up where she wraps them around his waist, allowing him to carry her to the bedroom in between heated kisses.
He lays her out gently on her bed, breaking the kiss to ask, “This okay?”
She nods eagerly, pulling him back in. “Want you.” She repeats against his lips. Eddie groans softly.
“Want you too.” He admits, and that much is obvious. Still it’s nice to hear while he’s crawling on top of her.
Then Eddie’s hand is wrapped loosely around her throat, and he’s kissing her like he might never stop.
He loves how responsive she is beneath him, the sweet sounds she makes and the way she eagerly rolls her hips against his, hands running through his hair.
Eddie kisses every bit of her exposed skin, stripping her of her shirt and bra in quick succession.
He mutters how beautiful she is, perfect, perfect for him. And latches onto her nipple, sucking eagerly on the one before alternating, always playing leisurely with whichever his mouth isn’t attached to.
She writhes beneath him, crying out at the overwhelming sensation and Eddie smiles into his work.
He lets go while she pouts, kissing down to her ribs and back, laughing against the skin of her collarbones, his face buried there, tracing every line of her tattoos with his tongue.
“Eddie, please.” She grumbles, and she can feel his laugh reverberated through her, causing her to tug at his hair playfully.
He groans aloud at the sensation, causing a mischievous smile to appear on Amilia’s lips as she gives another experimental tug.
He whimpers.
Then he’s batting her hands away, grinning at her, long hair falling down to curtain either side of her face.
Her brain is fuzzy. She’s drunk off of him, intoxicated, when his tongue plays lazily against hers.
Amilia makes him back away so she can take his shirt off, mumbling compliments about his tattoos, but he’s too impatient to let her appreciate them.
He’s tugging her jeans down her legs, burying his face in between her thighs before they even hit the ground.
His teeth pierce the soft flesh of them, nipping harshly and then peppering soothing kisses. Doing nothing to help the deep ache she feels in her core.
She lets out an impatient sigh of his name, tugging on his hair again, and suddenly he’s giving what she wants, easing her panties down her legs and tossing them carelessly to the side with the rest of her discarded clothing.
Almost too slowly he pushes his tongue inside - and she’s not sure which it’s meant to be, the torture or the reward.
He teases until she’s writhing and then he’s licking her fully and properly, tongue flattening out as he makes long strokes through her wetness.
She cries out when he adds a finger, slipping it inside while she rides his tongue. When he’s bold he adds another, filling her up just right and sucking on that little nub that has her teetering on the edge.
Eddie is almost disappointed when she comes - not wanting to stop tasting her, but then she’s dragging him away, crying out from the over-stimulation, and begging him to be inside her, and well, she’s really pretty like this…
Her hands eagerly fumble with the handcuffs he’s using as a belt buckle, and then she’s pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips giddily.
She reaches into the nightstand, Eddie taking the offered condom from her, tearing it open and rolling it onto his weeping cock, lining himself up with her once he’s fully sheathed inside it.
He fills her up, letting out helpless moans at the feeling of Amilia gripping him so demandingly. Cursing and sweating while she begs him to fuck her properly.
And how could he refuse?
He works himself in and out a few times before slamming back in, the harsh thrusts each accompanied by the harsh smack of Amilia’s headboard against the wall.
He drives into her, changing pitch and pace for whatever she begs for, harder, faster, slower, deeper - gives her everything.
While he thrusts he rubs on that sweet sweet spot just at her crest until another orgasm is crashing over her, drawing him in.
Eddie grins, pulling out and flipping her over, guiding her onto her hands and knees.
When he slips back inside she’s moaning helplessly into her pillows.
Not having that, Eddie gently winds his hands into her hair, pulling her up by it so he can hear the explicit sounds she releases as he pounds into her from behind.
Her cries and screams encourage him as he absolutely rails her, feeling her grow impossibly tighter still.
It’s not long before he’s stuttering in his movements, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before he comes, hard, against the cry of her name.
Eddie thinks he might have even blacked out for a second.
Wincing when he pulls out of her, he disposes of the used rubber in the small trash bin at her bedside before collapsing next to her.
She rolls onto her back with breathless panting, and they meet each other’s eyes at the same time, big grins splitting their faces.
“So…what’s the verdict?” He asks innocently.
“You look real pretty in the afterglow, Eds.” She teases, mushing his cheeks and avoiding the question.
He laughs. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Humming softly, she reaches out again, ecstatic when he receives her, actually pulling her in closer, burying his face in her hair.
She confesses. “So, domestic Eddie is actually not a far cry from bedroom Eddie.” He was too sweet, through and through. Despite how rough he could give it to her.
“Hey!” He whines loudly, seeming inclined to remind her of that fact, making her laugh.
“But! You do have range.” She readily admits.
“Thank goodness.” He sighs, planting a kiss on her lips.
The two of them cuddle up the rest of the night, a tangle of limbs and tattoos, falling asleep in a bed for the first time since they’ve met.
The next morning Eddie wakes up, disturbed when he rolled over and she wasn’t beside him.
He gets up slowly with the intention of going to find her, stretching and yawning and pulling his discarded boxers on before walking out of the bedroom.
She’s in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and scrambling some eggs. It makes Eddie’s heart ache.
He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin atop her head, murmuring good morning.
She tilts her head back to smile at him widely, and he presses a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.
Eddie thinks he could get used to this, being in hiding, if it means everything that comes with it. Food, sex, good music, and the present company that he isn’t sure how he ever lived without.
Still, all good things must come to an end.
That night it comes in the form of the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
At the sound, Amilia gets up and looks out, past the window curtain. It’s not Steve or one of the kids.
“Eddie, I see varsity jackets.” She tells him, letting the curtain fall closed.
“Shit, how the hell did they know to look here?” He blurts, jumping to his feet.
“Go, hide in my room. I’ll get rid of them.” She orders, shoving him towards the bedroom door.
“What? Fuck that I’m not leaving you with them.” Eddie complains.
“I’m not asking.” She presses. “Seriously, Eddie, go. If there’s a chance they don’t know you're here yet, we have to take it.” She pushes him away before going to answer the knock on the door to the two basketball players on the other side.
“Can I help you?” She asks with a sweet smile, reminding herself that there’s no reason that she should be defensive or angry at their presence. Wary, maybe, as a woman living alone with uninvited guests, but no more than that.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am…” Jason starts.
“Ma’am?” She laughs. “Jason, I tutored you in Spanish when you were a sophomore and I was a senior, remember?”
“Oh. Right. You look…different.” He confessed.
“Grew my hair out.” She jokes, since it’s always been this long. What she hadn’t had before was the tattoos - at least not the currently visible ones - the creeping vines blooming across her shoulders and collarbone. “Anyways, what can I do for you?”
“We were looking for some people - Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler…we know they come around here sometimes.”
She frowns innocently. “Sorry, but I haven’t really seen the kids since…well I guess since the mall burned down. Their regular babysitter’s hours got freed up since Scoops Ahoy is gone.”
“Hm.” Jason said skeptically, his eyes narrowing.
She raises an eyebrow. “I mean…you’re welcome to look around?” Then laughs. “But all you’re gonna find is some refreshing lemonade.”
Amilia turns and heads inside. “Let me get you some for the road.” She’s not asking, pouring the drinks into plastic cups for the two goons, and walking them outside.
Jason won’t drink, but Patrick does, not feeling so great when he suddenly cries out in pain, bending over, cup still in his hand, clutching his abdomen.
“You poisoned it!” Jason accused, glaring at her in turn, grabbing at her arm roughly.
“It’s just lemonade!” She protests, grabbing the red solo cup from Patrick and taking a huge drink. “See?”
“No,” Patrick gasps. “Wasn’t the lemonade…I’m fine.” He explains weakly.
“What the hell are you trying to pull?” Jason snaps at her.
“Me? I literally just gave the guy a drink! What the hell is wrong with you?” She snaps right back.
“I know you’re lying.” He snarls, getting in her face.
She glares right back at him. “Carver, get the hell off my property.”
“Let’s just go.” Patrick utters softly, he doesn’t look so hot.
“No! She’s hiding something.” He growls, stalking back toward the house.
“Oh for fucks sake!” She snaps as he bursts in, heading straight for the bedroom like he was reading from a map.
Patrick trails behind apologetically, but when the door opens, Eddie is nowhere to be seen.
Jason searches the whole house. Eddie’s gone.
“Did you accomplish what you wanted? Fucking prick. Get out of here before I call the cops.” She snaps, bluffing, but knowing that cops scared people like Jason.
As it is he’s flustered, pointing a finger at her. “This isn’t over.”
“Dude, there’s nothing here, get a grip.” Patrick insists, all but dragging him out.
“Don’t you get it? She’s with them! A devil worshipper!” She can hear him shout as he’s wrangled into the car..
She watches them leave, biting her lip, knowing that she can’t search for Eddie until the two leave, but hoping he’s safe.
He was, but not for long. His disappearing act had only bought him a little time.
When he had snuck out the back during Amilia’s conversation with Jason, not trusting the man not to search the place, he took cover in the boat that came with the house.
When they went to get in their car, Jason spotted him in his rear view mirror, huddled down in the dark. “Look!” He tells Patrick. “There!”
Eddie hears, pushing off the shore, trying the engine to no avail, only to have to try and row away as Jason scrambles from the vehicle.
Amilia heard the commotion, leaving the house and heading parallel to Jason, into the woods.
Jason all but drags Patrick to the shoreline, shouting at him, as they shed down to their underclothes, jumping in and swimming after Eddie.
They gain on him quickly and Eddie stops paddling.
“Hey stay back, man! Stay back!” Eddie yells, wielding the oar like a weapon as Jason approaches.
He turns back to Patrick to yell at him for not keeping up. “Come on, let's go, we almost have him!”
The other boy treads water and Jason calls his name. It’s the last thing he says before Patrick is dragged under.
He rises out of the water then, up into the air where he hovers, body bending and snapping.
Eddie backs up so far in the boat that he falls in.
Amilia bites back the scream threatening to tear its way out of her throat, hugging the shore line as she keeps moving, moving toward Eddie.
She barely registers Jason collecting the mutilated body, bringing it to shore.
She’s trying to keep an eye on the older man, tearing through the woods until she finds where he’s emerged, clambering soaking wet from the water.
“Woah!” He shouts as she nearly crashes into him. “Woah, easy.”
“Gotta hide.” She says breathlessly.
They run a considerable distance away, and then the two of them spend the night in the woods. Stealing blankets from a nearby clothesline, they huddle together for warmth, leaned up against a large oak.
Eddie holds her close, her trembling much more intense than his despite his wet state. He murmurs words of comfort to her, kissing her hair, and eventually she falls into a restless sleep in his arms.
In the morning the two of them keep moving, trying to find a way to contact the others when Eddie decides to steal a walkie talkie from a construction site.
It takes over an hour for them to meet the pair at skull rock - and they come bearing bad news. Vecna had gone after Max - his third attempted victim - unsuccessfully, during the morning before the guys had made contact.
“Jesus,” Eddie complained, head in his hands.
“Well, we're one step closer. We know how Vecna attacks. And we know he’s doing it from the Creel house.” Max resolves, explaining how they’d gone poking around in it. “So now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.”
Robin scoffs. “If he even has a heart.”
“A stake? Is he like a vamp? Is he a vampire?” Steve asks in borderline excitement.
“It was a metaphor.” Max rolls her eyes.
“A bullet should work on him, right?” Eddie chimes in.
“I say we chop his head off.” Lucas offers.
Nancy shared her agreement. “Yeah I’d say all of the above, but we can't do any of that 'til we find a way into the Upside Down.”
“We need El to get her powers back.” Max sighs.
“Everything was like, way easier.” Steve agrees, looking to Eddie to explain, “We had this girl. She had superpowers….”
“Superpowers. Yeah, you mentioned her.” Eddie said gruffly, thinking how useful that would have been and watching Dustin pace back and forth. “Hey, uh, Henderson's not, uh, cursed, is he?”
“Cursed? No, no. He's fine. Mental? Absolutely.” Steve uttered sarcastically.
As if to emphasize that point Dustin suddenly stops, turning sharply to yell, “Boom!” The exclamation echoing as he points at Steve, walking closer. “Bada… bada… boom. I was right. Skull Rock was north.”
Steve almost throws a fit. “Seriously? You're serious?”
“Mm-hmm.” He says smugly.
“This is Skull Rock. Okay?” Steve gestures to it. “You're totally, absolutely, 100% wrong. Right now.”
“Yes. And no.” Dustin says as Amilia raises a brow, looking on incredulously.
“Oh my God.” Steve moans, head in his hands.
Dustin gestures to his compass. “This worked correctly when we left the Wheelers'. Correct when we got in the car on Curly. But it started to slip the further east we went. Now it's way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn't wrong. The compass was.”
“So you're using faulty equipment. You're still wrong.” Steve argues, hands on his hips.
“Except it isn't faulty.” Dustin turns to his friend. “Lucas, remember what can affect a compass?”
“An electromagnetic field!” The other boy realizes.
“Yep.” Dustin grins.
“Uh I’m sorry, I must've skipped that class.” Robin deadpans.
“In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power.” Dustin explains. “So either there's some super big magnet around here, or…”
“There's a gate.” Amilia realizes.
“But we're nowhere near the lab.” Nancy frowns.
Dustin clasps his hands together. “But what if, somehow, there's another gate? A gate that we don't know about. It'd have to be smaller. Way less powerful.”
“Snack-size gate.” Robin theorized.
Steve glances her way. “How? Why?”
Dustin shakes his head. “No idea. All I know is that something is causing this disturbance, and the last time we've seen anything like it, it was a gate. And I hope it is because then we'd have a way to Vecna. And a shot at stopping him from taking another victim.”
“Where are you going?” Steve starts to shout after him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Eddie's still a wanted man. Amilia’s compromised, we can't just go hike in the woods.”
Dustin holds up his compass. “This little steel capsule might be the key to saving everyone.”
“Fuck it, I’m in.” Amilia walks to Dustin’s side, grasping his right shoulder.
He looks to his dungeon master since he has the support. “What say you, Eddie the Banished?”
Eddie has a hand resting on the side of his face, lost in deep thought. “I say you're asking me to follow you into Mordor…Which, if I'm totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea.”
He glanced up, “But, uh, the Shire…The Shire is burning.”
Dustin starts to bounce beneath Amilia’s grip in excitement. Eddie stands. “So, Mordor it is.”
So the group all goes traipsing through the woods, finding that the wonky compass is leading them right back to Lover’s Lake. Eddie stops Dustin from walking straight into it.
“This is confounding.” Dustin exhales at the sight before them.
“There's a gate in Lover's Lake?” Max questions.
“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna's the same way.” Nancy speculates.
“Yeah, only one way to find out.” Steve says, before the gang rustles up a boat and some oars.
Eddie and Steve place it down in the water as Steve chastises Eddie for his manner of handling. “Easy. I…I said easy, man.”
“Sorry, dude.” Eddie grumbled.
Robin places a hand on both their heads, stepping over them and into the vessel. Eddie’s next in, offering a hand to Amilia and Nancy, pushing against Dustin’s chest lightly when he tries to clamber in after them.
“Hey, hey, hey, you trying to sink us?” This thing holds four people tops, okay?” Eddie scolds as he sits next to Amilia.
Nancy instantly agrees, adding. “It's better this way, okay? You guys stay here. Keep an eye out for trouble.”
“You keep an eye out. It's my goddamn theory!” Dustin protests.
“You heard Nance.” Amilia tells him as he whines. “Who put her in charge?”
“I did.” Amilia responds simply.
“Compass.” Nancy holds a hand out, Dustin handing it over, only for him to call out once in aggravation Steve jumps into the boat after pushing it off. “You said four!”
“Sorry.” Steve whispers as the older kids all row away.
“Bedtime at nine, kiddos.” Robin called, spotting the finger Dustin flips her. “Miss you already!”
As they all head further into the lake, Nancy eyes the compass. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. Slow down, guys.”
The compass has gone haywire.
“Guys, what's going on?” Dustin says over the walkie-talkie. “Come on, talk to me. What's going on?”
“Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone
from wonky to wonky with a capital "aah!"” Robin utters.
Nancy’s eyes widen as Steve starts to take his socks off. “Steve, what are you doing?”
He continues to undress. “Somebody's gotta go down and check this out. And unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then…It's gotta be me.”
Amilia snorts. “You can’t even hold your breath longer than I can.”
“That’s true she can hold her breath for a really long time.” Robin reminded him.
“I know I know!” Steve almost laughed. “I remember.” He winked at her, and Nancy squirmed in her seat. “But, they say fresh tattoos shouldn’t be fully submerged in water for at least two weeks after application. Isn’t that right?”
Amilia rolls her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. “Smart ass.”
“No complaints, all right?” He stands in the boat and sheds his shirt.
“Hey, I'm not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” Eddie grumbles, wrapping a flashlight in a plastic bag for Steve and wishing him good luck.
“Thanks.” Steve says.
Eddie starts to light a cigarette up from the stress, but Robin snatches it with a complaint of “Gross.” Tossing it into the black water that Steve is staring out into.
“Steve,” Nancy stops him. “Be careful.” He nods, and dives in, beginning his exploration.
After a short period, Robin asks “Where we at, Wheeler?” Her eyes on the surface of the water.
“Closing in on a minute.” She tells her.
“Okay.” Robin mumbles.
Back on the shore, Dustin, Max and Lucas duck and hide from approaching police men.
Steve bursts through the surface again while the older kids are none the wiser, all of those in the boat exclaiming in surprise.
“I found it!” He announces. “It's pretty wild. It's more a snack-size gate than the mama gate, but still, it's pretty damn big-” he’s cut off as something drags him under water, pulling him down with a hash jerk.
It startles all of them, the boat lurching dangerously.
“Steve!” Amilia calls out in horror as Nancy shrieks the same name - over and over again.
Eddie protests, “No! No! What the hell was that, man?” While Robin looks at the other two girls, asking. “Really, what happened?”
“Jesus!” Eddie screeches before anyone can answer, Nancy standing up. Amilia offers her a hand the second she sees her intentions.
“Wait, wait, wait. You're not going in there, are you?” Eddie objects.
“Just…wait here.” Nancy orders as Amilia tries to soothe Eddie’s fingers away from her hips that he’d latched onto, a bit too insistently.
“No, Nancy!” Robin screams as the other girl jumps in. “Nancy!”
“Goddamn it!” Eddie curses when he loses his grip on Amilia, watching her head for the edge. “No, no, no, no, no, no. What are you doing? She said wait.”
“So stay put then.” Amilia tells him before she jumps in after her. Moments later Robin readies herself to go after them all too.
“Are you kidding me?” Eddie shouts. “Don't you go. Don't you…” she ignores him completely.
“Goddamn it…Son of a bitch!” He screams, standing and stomping his foot. “Oh, this is so stupid. This is so stupid. This is so stupid. Shit! Shit! Shit!” He falls into the water more than jumps in.
On the other side Steve is fighting for his life, and losing until the rest of the group shows up. They all fight against bat-like creatures, until the bat’s numbers diminish.
“Steve!” Nancy sighs in relief.
“Jesus Christ. Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie curses, throwing down the oar of a boat that he’d been using to slay the things.
“Are you okay?” Nancy asks Steve, ignoring the other man’s theatrics.
“Well, they took about a pound of flesh. But other than that, yeah, never better.” He tells them all as they sigh in relief.
“Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?” Robin whispers.
“What?” Steve asks at the same time Amilia mutters how “They better fucking not.”
Robin swallows. “It's just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear. And I think we should probably get you to a doctor like really soon because once symptoms set in, it's too late. You're already like dead.”
Robins concerns are interrupted by a loud shrieking from the sky. Everyone looks up to see more bats converging, landing in front of them with hisses and snarls.
“All right. There's not that many. We can take 'em.” Steve says before quietly adding, “Right?”
As he does so the sky fills with more, and Amilia mutters. “You were saying?”
Nance glanced behind them all, formulating a plan. “The woods. Come on.”
“Great. More running.” Robin grumbles.
The five of them hide from the bats, waiting until the sounds of the swarm have died down.
Steve nearly collapses as the adrenaline wears off, and Nancy makes him sit, tearing her shirt up to bandage him.
Robin talks rapidly at Steve while she does so, more for her own nerves than anything else. “So the good news is I'm pretty sure wooziness is not a symptom of rabies…But if you start having hallucinations or muscle spasms or you start feeling aggressive, like you wanna punch me, let me know.”
“Robin.” Steve chokes out.
“Yeah?” She asks.
“I kinda wanna punch you.” He confesses.
She exhaled loudly through her nose. “Sense of humor is still intact. That's a good sign.”
Nancy bandages Steve up tight as Eddie crawls to the top of a rock, taking in the Upside Down. “So, uh, this place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”
“Pretty much,” Nancy says.
Amilia hisses softly at Eddie. “Watch out for the vines. It's all a hive mind.”
“It's all a what?” He asks.
“All the creepy crawlies around here. They're, like, one or something. Step on a vine, you're stepping on a bat, you're stepping on Vecna.” Steve explains, hand to his side.
“Shit.” Eddie grunts, moving very carefully.
“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people?” Robin asks the resident Upside Down Experts.
“As far as I understand it, yeah.” Nance agrees.
“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.” Robin rationalized.
“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin.” Steve mutters. “But guns, yeah, sure.”
“Well, we don't have to go all the way downtown for guns. I have guns, in my bedroom.” Nancy offers.
“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?” Eddie asks skeptically.
“Full of surprises, isn't she?” Robin breathes.
“A Russian Makarov and a revolver.” Nancy explains.
“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Amilia grumbles, remembering how this mess had all started back in 83’.
She’d told Steve he was an ass who deserved to have his face bashed in when he and some of his loser friends had put up graffiti that Nancy was a slut.
Then she’d gone ahead and persuaded - threatened him, really - to go apologize, riding over with him only to find Nancy holding a gun at him when she followed the sound of an argument.
That gun had just as quickly turned to her, while Johnathan tried to talk Nancy off the ledge. And then the lights were flickering, the Demogorgon was approaching, and the rest was history.
“Me too.” Steve remembers.
“You almost deserved it.” Nancy smirked at him.
“Totally.” Amilia agrees, her soft smile accompanying the exchange, and Eddie doesn’t like the way she looks at Steve like that.
He throws his vest harshly his way. “For your modesty, dude.” He says sarcastically.
The ground suddenly rumbles and shakes, knocking Amilia into Robin, Nancy into Steve, and Eddie to the ground.
When the earthquake stills, a loud roar tears through the silence.
“Yeah so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie admits, scrambling to his feet.
“Yeah, me too.” Robin seconds, and so they head for the Wheeler's house.
Robin’s up ahead, complaining loudly to Amilia and Nancy as they lead the way through the woods, leaving Steve and Eddie talking softly behind them.
Eddie murmurs, “Still super jealous as hell by the way…Which is why I would never have jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any uh, normal circumstances.” He glanced at Amilia, shaking his head. “Nope. Outside of D&D I am no hero. I see danger and I just…turn heel and run. Or, at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”
“Give yourself a break, man.” Steve slaps his chest lightly.
Eddie stops walking, hands gesturing ahead to the girls to make his next point. “See? The only reason I came in here was because those ladies came straight after you…Now, I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Wheeler right there, she didn't waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in. Now, I know what happened between you two, and if I were you, I would get her back. 'Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
Steve opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. And then the world rocks on its axis.
“Here we go again.” Eddie says through gritted teeth.
Up ahead Amilia curse’s Vecna’s mother in Spanish, and when all of them scramble up and on with their journey, the Wheeler house is soon spotted in the distance.
When searching it for weapons, it’s discovered that the house is trapped in a version of itself from 1983 - the year the gate opened.
Before all of them can settle in their impending doom though, those upstairs can hear Steve yelling down below.
“Dustin!” He calls out, the rest of them rushing to him. “Dustin! Dustin, can you hear me!?” He screams into the silence.
“Steve - what are you doing?” Nancy asks.
“Shh! Just listen.” He orders, gesturing to the space around him.
Sure enough all of them hear Dustin talking, starting to shout out for him too, searching the space for a sign of where he is.
Right side up, the kids are at The Wheeler’s after they’d been caught and interrogated by police - and even worse - their parents.
“All right, either this kid can't hear us or he's being a total douchebag.” Steve decides.
“Will found a way.” Nancy huffed.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Will. He found a way to speak to Joyce through the lights.” She explains.
“Lights?” Steve repeats as Nancy moves away from him. “Yeah,” she growls, trying to flick a lamp on and off.
“The switch. Try the switch.” Steve tells her, and she does. “It's not working.”
“Guys?” Amilia questions softly, seeing small glittering dust around the chandelier. “You seeing this?”
Slowly the five of them all approach it, hearing Dustin speak faintly. Nancy is the first to reach up and touch it, her fingers skimming along the shimmer.
“Woah,” Eddie agrees, as the rest of them reach up to do the same.
“It…Tickles.” Steve sounds weirded out.
“It kinda feels good.” Robin smiles.
Nancy dropped her hand. “…Does anyone know Morse code?”
“No.” Amilia, Robin, and Steve say with shakes of the head. Nancy looks down in disappointment.
“Wait, does SOS count?” Eddie asks innocently, wide eyes landing on Amilia’s smile. “Is that…is that good?”
She could kiss him, instead nodding eagerly.
He taps S-O-S repeatedly in Morse code against the chandelier, alerting Dustin, Erica, and Lucas on the other side.
From there they brilliantly rig up a Light Brite for them all to communicate through. Dustin suggests that there are gates open at every murder site.
And so the rest of them all bike to Eddie’s trailer, looking for what they hope is another portal, unguarded by Vecna’s creatures.
The kids ditch their parents and the cops, biking to Eddie’s on their end, before using a broom handle to burst through the barrier of his living room ceiling.
Celebrating in triumph, Dustin leads the charge, using Eddie’s mattress as what looks like it will be a landing pad.
When it hits the ground above them, Eddie addresses the group. “Those stains are uh…I dunno what those stains are.”
Amilia clicks her tongue, Nancy making a small noise of disgust and Robin one of indifference. As it is they’re much more concerned by Dustin, tossing a makeshift rope of sheets their way, suspended by wonky gravity.
“All right pull on it, see if it holds!” He calls up, Robin being the first to tug, and then the first to climb up and out, where she falls.
“Oh thank god! That was fun.” She laughs.
The rest all look at each other, Nancy making the climb-turned-fall fearlessly. And then Eddie’s had enough of this place, saying “All right, I guess I’ll go.”
“Easy, easy,” Steve murmurs as he and Amilia both watch his ascent.
Then Eddie touched down on the mattress, hair crazy as he sat up. “That…was fun.” He breathes out, slapping his hand into Dustin’s to help him up.
Amilia catches his eye as he smiles up and down at her, her heart fluttering torridly.
Steve catches her attention, saying, “See you on the other side.” Always having to be the first into danger and the last one out of it.
Amilia ruffles his hair playfully, grabbing the sheets and wriggling up it with a small boost.
There’s a dopey smile on her face still, feeling the whoosh of air when the ascent becomes a fall, expecting to hit an unforgiving mattress but instead falling a lot longer and a lot farther than she should have before landing on cold, hard, ground.
“Oh!” She gasps, hearing a clock chime. One, twice, three, and then four times.
She hears the slithering sound of a maniacal laugh, the darkness surrounding her indicating that there is no way that she’s landed in Eddie’s room.
- Read Part 2 here.
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