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ymaohoh · 2 months

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Howl - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

Eddie and Chrissy die. Eddie and Chrissy live. Season 5 Hellcheer ft. time travel Eddie POV Lots of angst, sorry.

Word count: 6,977

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This was inspired by this fic by "WORTHLESS PRAYERS OF A NON-BELIEVER" by @cunninghamschrissy

If you could only see the beast you've made of me

And what a fucking way to go.

Eddie knew he was dying. Knew it as soon as the demobats’ teeth first sank into his flesh and consumed him piece by piece. It was a pain like he’d never experienced before, sharp and unforgiving and relentless, and by the time they were done (having finally taken their fill) he was begging anyone - anything - for sweet release. The thunder and lightning in the sky above seemed to absorb his screams. It was all very punk rock and metal. A fitting ending for someone like him really.

But Henderson was safe and back through the portal, the little fucker. He’d bought them time (like a hero). That was the main thing.

As Eddie’s soul trickled out of his body in a curious stream of blood-red dust, a lithe figure wrapped in the same crimson strangeness crept towards him. Its steps were soft and deliberate even though the twisted roots and vines of Vecna no longer posed any danger. It turned its head to peer down at him and Eddie recognised with a sudden intensity the graceful line of its body. He knew its gaze.

(it was the gaze of a siren. Like Medusa she could turn him to stone)

Eddie found himself trying to speak even though he had no breath left in his lungs. His shredded mouth (once so alive and animated and ready to laugh) lay useless and bloody. Yet he wanted desperately to call out and plead with this angel to stay with him. To offer a last lament he did not deserve.

An angel with the kindest and saddest eyes he ever saw.

Did you see that, Chrissy? God damn, that was the best rock show in the history of the world. Better than the Garden.

You were amazing, Eddie. I’m so proud of you.

Her lips never once moved yet her sweet voice was a melody. She was kneeling down beside his body and her limbs were smooth and unbroken now, just like she deserved. Something uncurled inside him at the sight of her face, he was so glad to see her now at the end.

Are we dead?

I think so. Yeah.

Dazed, he wanted to lift his ruined fingers to her lips. Even in death Chrissy Cunningham had the most beautiful smile, even if it looked like she was weeping. Impossible, surely, if they were no longer alive?

Yet every tear that ran down her cheek made him die all over again.

I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I was a real fucking coward.

It's alright, you saved the others. That’s what matters.

He could feel himself sinking further and further back into darkness as a little more of his light faded.

But maybe it was okay because she was here and weeping at the end. It can't be all bad if he was going to the same place as someone like her.

They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. But she’d wished him luck once at a school talent contest and made him feel on top of the world.

What was left of his scattered thoughts suddenly imagined him and Chrissy in matching green graduation robes, grinning as they posed for dumb pictures, and then Chrissy laughing as they drove away in his busted van leaving Hawkins far behind.

It’s not fair.

It was too soon. This was all too soon. His heart wrenched for all the fucking fantastic possibilities and dreams that now lay wasted. They were still kids and they deserved more than to be the casualties of some fucked up inter-dimensional game of magic and smoke. Like the last embers of a wild bright bonfire, he and Chrissy would fade away when they deserved the chance to grow up, make mistakes, live. Just like kids were supposed to.

But this sudden bitterness wouldn't change a damn thing and he knew it. He was already dead and so was she…and it was simply too late. So instead he kept his eyes on Chrissy's face and drank her in as his consciousness slowly slipped away.

And she made him feel safe. This would be his grave and she was keeping watch like a night vigil.

Chrissy, I want to take you on a date someday, you know? Fireworks, the whole lot. I'll make it real special. Just us.

Yeah, Eddie. That sounds good. Come on, take my hand. Let’s go…

Eddie wanted to grin and laugh and cry as the figure wrapped her lovely arms around him, her cloak of shimmering red light enveloping and exhausting him completely.

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound

And what a fucking way to die.

But despite logic and reason - and despite what was real - it turned out life wasn’t quite ready for Eddie Munson to tap out just yet. In life he was like a burning torch of fire (burning too brightly for a little town like Hawkins) and he had too much attitude for a trailer trash junkie. But life - the cosmos, fate, whatever - decided that Eddie had an important part to play still and his death was a mistake which had to be set right. So it took hold of his strings like he was a mere puppet and dragged him back to his feet.

His passing had felt like a gentle reprieve but when he came back to life he did so like a bolt of lightning ready to shake it all up. Eddie was in his element. He wanted to fucking live, damn it.

Not that he understood any of it and he barely listened to the ‘why’s’ and ‘how’s’. When he awoke (with a breath so deep that made him splutter and his lungs ache) it was Henderson’s hopeful eyes that peered back at him, it was Jim Hopper who helped him to his feet, and Nancy Wheeler who told him about the final push - a fight of epic proportions like the badass battle of Pelennor Fields from Tolkien - which could end the threat of Vecna once and for all.

They asked him to help so he chose a club with nails and swung it at whatever came his way. His body was still a nasty puzzle of scars and bites and blood, but at least it worked. It could fight. That was enough for now.

Show him fear now and he would eat it for fucking breakfast. Death had been a cruel savage way to show him exactly what he was capable of.

Their army - a last alliance of men and elves - was small but it was hurt, it was angry, it was sick of this asshole hurting them and their loved ones. Parents fought for their kids, sisters beside brothers, couples watched each other’s backs. They fought back as one epic team and told Vecna he would never harm or scare them again.

It was pretty inspirational. If he were a Bard he would dedicate songs to how awesome it all was. Steve Harrington and Hopper were fucking Barbarians, man.

But Vecna was an asshole. He was cruel.

So in some desperate attempt to turn the tide, he decided to raise the dead too. He brought back his favourites to be pawns in this fucked up game of chess. It was horrific, terrifying, and he dangled these poor souls before him like a shield, reasoning that Eddie and the others would never harm or attack their friends.

It was a safe bet. When Eddie first beheld Chrissy at Vecna’s side (her beautiful face so stiff and lifeless) he’d wanted to tear Vecna apart with his bare hands. Wanted to rip his throat out with his teeth and nails. That kind sweet Chrissy should be used again by this creep - to hurt, to suffer, to harm them - was like a taunt. No one would move against these souls for fear of harming them, not even when Vecna commanded them to attack.

Mike Wheeler made some hushed comment about the X-Men Apocalypse comics and, yeah, Vecna picked his Four Horseman alright. Chrissy was pestilence - she was draining the life from him.

He would not hurt her, not even if she started gnawing him into pieces of bone and flesh (again).

They moved like puppets, twisting and turning where Vecna wanted them.

But Vecna underestimated Chrissy. He underestimated Barb, Fred, and Patrick. They fought back against his iron will (steel against iron and iron cracked and yielded) and broke free from his control. Their unwillingness to submit was like a Warrior’s rallying call.

(and now they had their army of the dead - their Dead Men of Dunharrow - so metal)

Eddie fought like a demon, ripping open demobats and creatures alike, using his club and shield to smash through their ranks. Beside him Chrissy fought like a woman scorned and burned like a shooting star. She moved in a blur, kicking and biting and wielding a handaxe, her long hair stained red with blood. He’d called her an angel before - and she still was - but now she was an avenging angel (a Valkyrie) reigning down fire and carnage.

She was fighting for her life, yes, but it ran deeper than mere life or death now. She was pissed. She was deranged. He had stolen so much from her and she wanted it back in blood.

Her screams rang out like a war cry (and she’d been silenced for far too long).

Eddie found himself summoned by that cry and they fought side by side, two people who had no business being in the same reality, and they fought hard. When Eddie was nearly blindsided by a demobat Chrissy pushed him out of the way, and Eddie smashed in the skull of the demogorgon dog that snapped at her leg. Eddie and Chrissy wanted to live. They wanted all the fucking beautiful possibilities and dreams that death wanted to snatch away from them. They refused to be casualties this time.

She landed a particularly excellent crack to the back of Vecna’s head before Eleven took over. No sound had ever sounded sweeter.

And you know what? They fucking won.

As Eleven landed the killing blow (because really, she was the only one who could and should) and Vecna was at last torn apart, the hush that followed was deafening.

Eddie could hear it ringing in his ears.

There came frantic hugs and kissing and claps on the shoulder. People were crying. Henderson hugged Eddie so hard he felt like keeling over.

Panting, he turned to Chrissy but she was standing very very still and staring down at Vecna’s eviscerated corpse.

She spat on the ground (her spit was holy water, it seared and burned) and turned her back.

I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground

My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in

And what a fucking way to live.

Life could not possibly resume after such an event, surely, but stubbornly it tried its best. The sun rose the next morning and birds outside his hotel window chirped and sang. The world around them didn’t care about their heartbreak and grief and kept turning like it was any other day - and to the majority of its population who would never know how close they came to ruin, it was.

(they were being housed by the government - all very hush hush - to be observed, patched up, forced to sign paperwork that demanded their silence)

This is what they had fought for…to wake up and deal with normal human stuff like picking what breakfast cereal to eat and arguing about what radio station to listen to…so why did it feel so shitty and wrong?

The food tasted like ash. Wayne brought him a box of his old tapes but the lyrics made no sense, the music was off-key. He even brought his beloved guitar but Eddie angrily dashed it against the wall when he realised he no longer remembered even the most basic chords.

Wheeler read about veterans coming home from war and struggling to cope and said maybe this was sort of similar. They’d been soldiers, right? Child soldiers, but they’d faced more horror than any brain (and heart) could before splintering. And even though they had fucking earned their victory (with blood and sweat and tears), a nasty darkness continued to linger over them like a dark cloud they couldn’t quite shake.

But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer.

Eddie read Tolkien when he was a kid and he loved it (his mom had left all her books when she skipped town - along with a lifetime worth of deep-rooted insecurities), but you know what? Tolkien was shit wrong this time.

The new day came but it was all wrong.

It wasn’t just lasting trauma (because damn they were going to rack up some serious therapy bills), it ran far deeper than that.

Will Byers was the one who eventually spoke up and explained that they had simply come back wrong.

The poor souls who cheated death were fading every day, and nobody knew how to bring them back. It seemed one could not die and just come back without consequences, even if the cosmos changed its mind. It just didn’t work that way and now they were paying the price. The people brought back said it felt like they were wearing another person’s skin.

(Vecna’s parting gift - the creep)

The government doctors observed them and monitored their vitals, but they were similarly stumped. How could you fix something that was beyond healing? This wasn’t something that could be stitched up like a wound or treated with antibiotics.

Eddie let them poke and prod but he could feel it in his bones that Will was right. It was like a sickness, a virus weighing him down. His mangled body would heal eventually (though he’d carry the scars all his life) but it still didn’t feel like his body.

It was worse for those who spent longer in Vecna’s messed up world. Barb rarely came out of the bedroom she shared with Nancy (he could see Nancy flinch every time Barb refused dinner).

And as for Chrissy…

She sat still for too long and when he looked into her eyes she wasn’t ever really there. He and Robin Buckley and Joyce Byers encouraged her to spend time in the garden, hoping (like idiots) that maybe the sunlight would help like she was some wilting pot plant. Chrissy seemed to become more animated when Eddie was around (he could get her to eat, at least), so he read to her, picked flowers, brushed her long hair and twisted it into messy little plaits.

Chrissy had done him the honour of being with him at his death, so he would try and repay her kindness by helping her in life.

(the therapists spoke about ‘emotional bonds’ and ‘codependency’ following trauma but it meant nothing to him)

He watched her, always searching for some sign of life, but the truth was she was slipping through his fingers yet again and he didn’t even have the strength to hold on.

They weren’t lovers but they were friends now. He knew with unusual certainty that if Chrissy faded away he would follow.

So they went through the motions of resting, eating, showering. They tried to rebuild and heal. They took vitamins and spoke to therapists. They let the doctors draw blood for tests (though after Chrissy ripped out the needle and screamed not to touch her anymore, he’d snarled at them to leave her the fuck alone).

Until Eleven offered them a solution.

There was a chance, she said, that things could go back to the year this all started. 1983 was a fixed point in time before Vecna and if she was right (and she usually was) she could take them all back.

It sounded crazy - like something from a science fiction movie (seriously, time travel) - but if it worked everything would go back to the way it was in Hawkins and all the people murdered by Vecna over the years (for there were many many more) would get their lives back…but the right way this time.

There were risks to Eleven and risks that it wouldn’t work.

But there was also a risk that, by going back, they would forget everything.

They would forget years of their lives, they would forget each other.

They all glanced at one another - exchanging looks with the people they loved, who they’d fought beside, who had come to be like family - but if it meant saving everyone…? Having another chance?

When it was his turn to vote, Eddie thought about Chrissy and knew it could only be a yes.

(Steve was going to risk that twinkle he felt for Nancy and the friendships he had with the kids; Nancy and Jonathan were risking all they had in the world; Robin was risking Steve and her new chosen family who accepted her; Will, Mike, Dustin, Lucas…fuck they were risking the best and worst years of their lives and their best friend; he didn’t know exactly what Max’s deal was but the kid looked horrified when it was her turn; then there was Eleven who was risking her life. The only people who looked so fucking sure were the grown ups who said they would risk everything worth a damn for the kids to be safe and… well…kids again)

Afterwards he knelt by Chrissy’s chair in the garden and gathered her tiny hands in his own. They were pale, shivering, and her grip weak. He could feel the delicate bones click beneath her skin. Nothing like the talons that wielded her axe during battle.

She was no longer some avenging angel or Valkyrie. This lovely soul before him was a coiling shadow and it made him fucking terrified.

“I brought you some Jasmine tea,” he murmured (begged, pleaded). “Thought it might help you sleep later. We’ve got Nancy’s copy of Emma to start too…that’ll work if this doesn’t.”

“Nothing can help me anymore, Eddie. You know that.”

Yeah he did. It made him want to scream, recoil.

“They’re waiting for you to vote, kid. Has to be unanimous, that’s the deal.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked. She looked at him with her big blue eyes (better than an arrow - they pierced) but the lack of warmth or spark of life was startling. “If…if this doesn’t work we’ll waste away, won’t we? Like ghosts. I feel like a ghost.”

Her hands were so cold, even though it was a warm evening and she was wearing one of his old patched sweatshirts. He tried rubbing her fingers between his own and blew on them.

“If El can pull this crazy plan off, then we’ll go back to 1983 and everything will be normal again. You’ll be back to your old self, you’ll be well again. Promise. It’ll be like none of this shit ever happened.”

And she might not know him. He might not know her. They would be practically strangers again.

She would go back to being the young pretty freshman climbing the rungs of Hawkins’ social ladder (to one day becoming the established cheer captain and Queen Bee). He would be the freak, the school pariah, mean and scary. They’d pace the same hallways and eat in the same cafeteria but they would not share a smile or a look or a friendly wave.

He felt sick at the thought, but as long as Chrissy was safe and alive somewhere he could deal. It’s not like he would remember anyway.

“Most important thing is you’re safe and alive, I’ll risk the rest.”

“Why do you care about me?”

Eddie pressed his scarred lips against her wrist in a chaste kiss. He tried not to look at the tears that suddenly raced down her cheeks and focused instead on her lips (bitten, sore), her nose (perfect, freckled), and her long hair (wavy, lank and lifeless now). He wouldn’t get the chance to look again.

He wanted to save it all to memory (maybe the more he looked, the harder it would be for those memories to be ripped away? He needed to lock them away with a key).

“Because twice now, Chrissy Cunningham, you’ve broken this jaded and miserable heart and showed me kindness I never deserved. First time when you wished a scared little boy good luck when you didn’t have to, and then again when you found him dying and terrified. You stayed with me so I wouldn’t go through that alone. You fucking wept for me, Chriss. I can’t…won’t let you die again.”

Later Chrissy voted yes too but she refused to look any of them in the eye.

(they voted a unanimous yes like the big stupid heroes they were)

You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers

And what a fucking way to live (repeat)

Eddie’s brain had always been wired differently so it wasn’t too much of a shock that it refused to follow orders now and forget. It was defiant and clung fast to his memories, arguing against the powers that be it would not let them go. So when he woke up in his bedroom, newly turned sixteen-year-old Eddie Munson did remember. There were admittedly some parts that were murkier than others but overall his memory won.

(he spent a long afternoon reflecting that maybe this wasn’t such a good thing - but a joint or two calmed him down. He fucking loved the rush he got from it, and the way he picked up his guitar like an old friend and seamlessly started playing some Dio).

Some of the others remembered too but it was difficult to patch it all together. The ones who could remember felt like assholes for bringing certain things up - because if you could forget, wouldn’t you want to? It seemed crappy to remind them. Some people asked questions and wanted to remember, but some simply chose not to.

(Barb was one of the ones he never spoke to again. Nancy told them she transferred somewhere close to the ocean).

There were no rules about how to handle time travel but they muddled through somehow. They each had their own patchwork cloak of memories, some squares overlapping, some missing, some fraying at the seams. They were patient. They were kind.

It would take time.

And they had all the time in the world to work it out. That was the best thing. It was 1983 again but this time the world seemed more bright and exciting. Eddie had felt left behind for a long time (his dumbass’ fault really) but now? He had a second chance to get his diploma and fucking make something of himself.

(he still had nightmares and frequently checked himself in the mirror - no - no bite marks).

The ones who could (and wanted) to remember felt a pull to stay together. They felt like the survivors of some shipwreck but without any evidence of the wreckage. They became like a family to Eddie who was once without (his uncle was a steadying presence and didn’t ask about the night terrors or why Eddie suddenly tried so hard at school).

So (fucking wild) Eddie spent most of this school time in the company of Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Robin Buckley, and Patrick McKinney - much to the enormous amusement of other students who couldn’t get their heads round the weird mix of jocks, loners, freaks, preps.

To be fair, Eddie was less inclined to cause fuss in the cafeteria these days and only sold weed on the weekends so maybe he wasn’t so much of a freak anymore…? He said as much to Robin who snorted and told him to dream on. They were all freaks which kind of undercut the point, you know?

“A John Hughes wet dream - though Breakfast Club doesn’t technically come out for another two years…God, the mind boggles,” she added.

The odd assortment of friends were sitting on the school bleachers eating lunch as it was a rare sunny day for Hawkins. The younger kids would be coming over to join them from the middle school and Eddie was sketching out ideas for a D&D campaign (he wanted to set the club up before the kids got to high school because fuck them feeling like outsiders this time round).

Steve was busy eyeing up a cute girl from his chem lab, Nancy and Jonathan were making eyes at each other, Patrick was trying again to explain the rules of basketball to Robin who said she didn’t give a crap.

A bell rang in the distance and he looked up from his sketchbook, his eyes going right over to the doors. Within a few minutes he was rewarded by the sight of Chrissy (flanked as always by her giggly popular friends).

As for Chrissy’s memory? Who could say.

As soon as they returned to 1983 she was reluctant to talk about any of it. She didn’t ignore them but she didn’t join in either. She let Nancy check in on her once a week and told them yes, i’m fine but she held her cards close to her chest when it came to discussing her memory. She never wanted to share or ask questions and after a couple of days they stopped asking.

So instead of joining their rag-tag party, she drifted closer to her friends on the cheer team and threw herself into extracurriculars. She seemed to have signed up for everything - cheerleading, photography, student council, art classes, tutoring - and seemed happiest when she was busy and helping.

(like a shield)

Eddie would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt (because it felt like a punch to the gut every time she was in his proximity), though he hadn’t exactly done anything to bridge the gap either.

Chrissy had effortlessly resumed her role as the pretty and popular cheerleader who everyone seemed to adore. Girls wanted to be her friend and boys - well, you’d have to blind not to notice the looks she got from guys just aching to take her out.

(Eddie had to grit his teeth when he saw this - they didn’t really see her, they hadn’t fought at her side, they hadn’t died in her lovely arms).

Chrissy rattled him - but then she always had.

So instead he kept his distance and resigned himself to an insufferable watch. He probably looked like a fucking stalker but as long as she was nearby and safe and happy that was enough. She looked happy. They didn’t share any classes as he was in the right year group this time, but Nancy told him she was doing well on the student council (using her voice to defend, to challenge). Patrick said she was an excellent cheerleader and already impressed the current reigning captain.

God, she was thriving.

What had he expected? Of course she was.

He hated that she slipped so easily back into this role. He hated that she no longer needed him like he apparently desperately needed her.

He was such a fucking asshole. This was exactly what he’d wanted when he voted yes all those years ahead.

They’d all taken the same risk by voting yes and some of them lost.

The reality (he tried drumming into his thick head) was that he and Chrissy Cunningham had only been flung together because fate had a pretty sick sense of humour. They had absolutely no business being friends or…anything…except maybe casual school chums. They’d shared moments of complete bliss and agony together in the Upside Down - but not from their own choosing - but rather some cosmic joke that left them with no one else. She owed him nothing, and he would not accept it anyway.

That was the truth.

They’d saved the world and he was a certified hero - so what did it matter if he felt like a royal loser?

(he finally looked away when Jason Carver materialised and offered to carry Chrissy’s pink backpack)

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out

And what a fucking way to end it

Eddie went to class on time and listened and his grades started picking up. He started his D&D club and was surprised when two new faces (seniors - graduating at the end of the year) showed up at the first meeting. He got a legitimate weekend job at a garage so he could help out Wayne with the bills. Corroded Coffin were starting up just in time for the release of Holy Diver (the very definition of perfect timing - honestly). His new friends showed up at their gigs and they played all the better for it.

When he got a B on his latest English paper, Wayne took him out for pizza and said he was real proud of him. Eddie started to think about the future - that just maybe he could amount to something other than petty criminal or deadbeat dad. Maybe he could even aim for college. Study music or graphic design.

Maybe get out of Hawkins. Find a girl. See some of the world.

Sure he had baggage and got angry sometimes (real angry, at seemingly odd moments) but every week he spoke to Ms Kelley about his shitty parents and why his crazy brain struggled to focus. He couldn’t tell her the truth obviously - but still, it helped.

His second chance at life flew by in a hazy rush. Halloween came along, so did Thanksgiving (he and Wayne were invited to the Byers’ which beat the TV dinners the Munson’s were used to).

It was nearing Christmas break when Eddie finally realised (with a penny drop) that Chrissy’s patchwork cloak was unravelling despite her desperate attempts to sew it back up.

And it was Nancy who gave him the first clue when she found Chrissy crying in the school bathroom. “You know Carver asked her out and she turned him down flat, right? It’s the biggest scandal of the semester. We know he’s a huge jerk but everyone else thinks he’s this cool hotshot athlete. They’re scandalised.”

“Wait - so she’s crying because of that jackass?” Steve asked.

(Jason was an anomaly they didn’t know how to handle - after all, no harm, no foul, right? - but they knew the crap he was capable of, even if he didn’t)

“Her parents kicked her out,” Jonathan added after a moment. He winced when they all stared at him and tried to shrug it off. “She let slip in photography club. I asked about some photos she took of home and she said her parents could be really mean and controlling sometimes. Especially her mom. Stuff like ‘not being good enough’. I mean, it’s her business so I didn’t want to pry, but yeah…didn’t sound so easy. Sounds like she finally stood up to them though and they threw her out. Think she’s staying with her aunt.”

Eddie knew what Chrissy looked like on a battlefield, knew she could land one sick dropkick, knew what she looked like when she sobbed her beautiful heart out.

He didn’t know about an aunt or that her parents were bullying pieces of shit. It felt like a serious gap in his knowledge about someone who occupied so much of his daily thoughts.

God, he felt so fucking proud of her.

“What sort of stuff does she photograph?” Eddie asked. It suddenly seemed like an important thing to know.

“Uh…mostly people, I think. I’ve not seen her work on landscapes or objects. She really likes portraits and light work. She took some seriously good ones of the cheerleaders practising drills. It’s really hard to capture movement, you know, but they turned out great.”

Chrissy had made the choice to sever links with Jason and her shitty parents.

And she was photographing life. Hope began to kindle in his chest.

Maybe she did remember.

Jonathan looked at him and said, “She’s booked out the studio after school to work on a project. Maybe you should talk to her? She always seemed…better…when you were nearby. Before, I mean.”

Yeah. Before. When they were fading away like ghosts.

Maybe it was a selfish idea (he would have to be so so careful with his choice of wording) but Eddie was hungry to see her, to speak to her, to spot any glimmer of before. Watching her from afar was simply not enough to quench this thirst anymore.

(he’d even attended a pep rally just to drink in her smile, to his shame).

He wasn’t going to be an asshole and push anything but he could check in. That was harmless, right?

So after school Eddie found himself making his way to the photography classroom. He’d been here only twice before (photography seemed to require a lot of patience - waiting, developing, timing) but he recognised the sharp stinging smell of chemicals as he opened the doors.

He felt his chest clench and suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. Was this how Beren felt when he saw the Luthien dancing in the woods? Only Chrissy wasn’t dancing like an ethereal spirit, she was all alone and leaning over a workbench. No leaves or forest, just the countless pictures pinned to the walls.

And boy, did he fucking note the way her body tensed up when she saw him. “Hey Chriss.”

“Eddie…” Chrissy bit her lip (a habit he knew she did when she was nervous). “Can I help you with something? Jonathan’s not here.”

Yeah, you can be honest and tell me your damage, you beautiful mess of all things wonderful and lovely.

“I mean, I could lie and say I had a sudden urge to join the club, but I’m really only here for you. Sounds like you’ve had a crap time recently so I wanted to check in. You holding up okay?”

Chrissy huffed out a breath and turned back to her project. The pink knitted jumper she wore was baggy and oversized and he could see the pale skin of her (not broken, not snapped, she was alive) shoulder.

“That’s kind of you, really, but I don’t need babysitting. I’m okay,” she said quietly. “I…I’m keeping busy. Doing my best. I’m really trying.”

Eddie reached the table and peered down with interest at the scattering of photographs (one of the cheer team in action, one of a basketball game, one of the cheering crowds). He could see so clearly what she was trying to capture. She wanted their smiles, their joy. Almost like she was trying to collect them. These photos were a testament to her words - that she was trying so incredibly hard to live in this world.

“These are cool. You’re good at this.”

“They’re okay,” she corrected with a small sigh. “Still got a lot to learn.”

He watched as she picked up another photo - her brother maybe? - and arranged it onto a black scrapbook page with the others. Had she ever mentioned a brother before?

He spoke before he could remind himself they weren’t friends. “I don’t know anything about your life, Chriss. Thought I did but…”

“I’m still learning about it too. Oh…”

Her elbow accidentally knocked a tray and in her haste to save the chemicals, a second pile of photographs slipped out from beneath and fell to the floor. Eddie quickly bent to pick them up and (ignoring her protests) instinctively turned them over…

“Please don’t…”

…only to see a picture of himself.

Standing, he felt a ripple of shock and looked at her, a question burning his lips. She was staring down at her sneakers and her cheeks were flushed scarlet but she gave a tiny nod.

There were several photographs of him, all taken at school from a distance. He looked at himself playing guitar on the bleachers, stretching out on the lawn at lunch, leaning against his van smoking a cigarette. He eyed his face closely (eyes brown and laughing, hair a chaotic mess of curls, stubble on his jaw that needed shaving) and was surprised by how different it looked to what he saw in the mirror every morning. It was like seeing something from a brand new angle, he looked so different.

He looked happy. Confident. A good-looking guy (how did she manage that?) living a decent life. Was this how she saw him?

There were others of Nancy, of Steve, of Robin, even a few of Max, but they were mostly of him. He paused at one of them all together at lunch laughing at something funny Robin said. They looked so fucking smug and normal.

And then…right at the bottom…a photograph of Chrissy herself.

But this Chrissy wasn’t smiling (which seemed to be her default setting at school). She’d obviously taken it as a self-portrait because she was perched on a stool looking right into the camera lens. She looked so real, so fucking raw. Her face was smooth and serious and deathly sad. She wasn’t even wearing makeup. There was a patch of acne on her chin.

Jonathan said she was into portraits and this was how she saw herself. He wanted to tattoo it on his chest.

“I’m no stalker, I swear,” but her laugh wasn’t convincing. “It might sound stupid but I just…I don’t want to forget anything. When I take a photograph it’s proof that the subject was real. That my memories are real.”

Eddie’s heart was fucking hammering. The others might kill him, but he just had to…

Screw Fate. Screw ‘emotional and trauma bonding’. He would grab this with his own two hands.

So he plunged into the deep end and asked the million-dollar question. “Do you…remember, Chriss?”

And she nodded. The most miraculous nod in history.

“I remember most things, but not everything. Some of the details are hazy which drives me crazy sometimes. I remember Vecna, I remember dying which really sucks, and the fight…I remember the crappy hotel too and the…vote. Some things I’d rather forget honestly but the other stuff? I wish I could capture them, you know? Like taking a snapshot of the inside of my brain. That must sound really weird.”

“Nah, I get it. I draw them too. For D&D or just sketch them in my notebook. I…don’t want to forget either,” he admitted. “I try and draw every detail…well, as best as these dumb hands will let me. I’m not too shabby.”

Her eyes lit up with starlight. Her hands were trembling at her sides.

It felt almost too natural to take her hand and thread his fingers between her own. Once he’d kissed these fingers, tried to rub some life into them.

“Chrissy…these photographs are really incredible, and we’re all here if you ever want to talk about this stuff. I’m right here, alright? I fucking see you.”

She began to cry (big messy tears that were aching to be let free) and then she was in his waiting arms. He gathered her close, hungrily, fervently, trying to ignore how perfectly she fit like a missing jigsaw piece and how something primal inside his soul seemed to snap into place. She wept and clung to his flannel shirt and he didn’t give a shit when his own tears followed. He stroked her back, her hair, urging her to let it all out. Her hair felt like spun gold. “I think you always have, Eddie,” she whispered.

Her frayed edges had finally found his own and he would stitch them himself if she let him. Eventually Chrissy began to pull away and mumbled something about being so embarrassed and so sorry but Eddie found himself holding on.

He could not let her slip away again.

“Don’t let me go, Chris, please.” It sounded like a whimper. A plea for her to remain with him.

She softened back into the embrace and his grip tightened when she pressed her shivering lips (soft, alive) against his chest.

“Why do you care about me?” she sniffed. “Eddie, I’m a total fucking mess.”

It was the same question she’d asked years ahead in the garden when they were wasting away, and again he answered her honestly. Because what else could you do to someone you would literally travel through time for?

“Remember what I said the night of the vote? I meant every damn word, always will. Nothing’s changed for me, Chriss. Nothing.”

“I remember. Oh - I remember you. They couldn’t rip you away from me.”

They had no photographs or sketches, but they were witnesses. They remembered, and they could make new memories too. New (gleeful, sad, exciting, embarrassing) memories. Just like kids their age were supposed to.

So he mumbled into her hair, “Chriss, can I take you on a date? Fireworks, the whole lot. I'll make it real special. Just us.

He could feel Chrissy smiling - and fuck, wasn’t that the whole point? - as she said yes, she’d really really like that.

And then she threw her lovely arms around him again, cloaking him in hope and light, but this was not to be his end…

It was his beginning. 1983, baby.

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

A/N:

Whatever happens in season 5 I just hope these beautiful characters get some kind of closure. A few quick notes:

I love Emma. It’s a great book. Just doesn’t feel like an Eddie book.

Time travel who? I don’t usually like that kind of ending - feels cheap sometimes - but for this genre it could totally work.

Enjoy the nerd references.

I included Barb because I want closure for her too.

Who knows about a timeline or ages. I’m basing this off the Wiki ages.

Lyrics by Florence.

Thank you for reading. I really enjoyed writing this.

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fanfic #ymaohoh #chrissy cunningham #chrissy and eddie #chrissy lives #eddie lives #season 5 hopes

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ymaohoh · 2 months

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“We could always just…do it anyway?" - Fic - Oneshot

"Packet’s ripped, sweetheart. We seem to be without a condom.” His fingers stilled and Chrissy was biting her plump little lip that tasted of strawberries and magic. She was watching him closely, her cheeks flushed and panting from being so close to what promised to be a world-shattering orgasm. “We could always just…do it anyway? Without a condom, I mean.” Eddie and Chrissy have unsafe sex against a wall. Eddie's POV

Porn with very little plot. Oneshot. Rated very Mature. Use protection kids.

Word count: 3,630

Also available at Archive

-----

So Chrissy and Eddie are animals, right?

For some wild crazy reason Chrissy can’t get enough of Eddie, and Eddie believes firmly that any time spent not kissing or touching Chrissy Cunningham is…well, a fucking travesty really. They’d only been together as boyfriend and girlfriend for a few months but already it was ride or die and they both submitted to this without reason or logic or hesitation. They’d bought non-refundable one way tickets for the ride of their lives and they were so fucking blissfully messed-up happy.

They couldn’t do much about it in his crappy trailer (the walls were so thin, man, and Wayne worked random hours. He wanted his baby to scream and pant without worrying about being overheard, okay? And besides…it was cramped. Chrissy was a champ but it must’ve been embarrassing sneaking into the shower, freshly fucked and bow-legged - fuck yes, while his uncle slept nearby)... so that meant having to think outside the box if they wanted undisturbed one on one time. And…boy… was Eddie crafty. Creativity had always been one of his strengths and he rose to the challenge like the DM he was born to play.

Hotels and motels and all that sneaky stuff cost money and he was saving for his future now (their future) so they were out. His van was okay but the suspension was taking a pounding and there wasn’t room in the back for all the crazy shit Eddie wanted to do to Chrissy’s perfect and flexible body. Chrissy’s place was also ruled out because (you know) her parents despised him entirely and were one shit-eating grin away from kicking Chrissy out which wasn’t the worst idea (he would never ever forgive them for the spiteful lies they twisted into Chrissy’s brain about food and her body and…ugh) but they were so close to graduating and Chrissy wanted to go to college so…yeah, her place was a no go.

(Not to say they hadn’t fooled around there when Eddie braved the trellis beneath her window (like Romeo and Juliet right?) but Chrissy could never really relax and it wasn’t as fun. He would love to fuck her in her parents bed as a solid fuck you but Chrissy wasn’t quite there yet. Maybe he’d suggest it right before they fucked off to California or wherever she wanted to study. Eddie would follow her wherever, obviously.)

So really that left sneaking around and finding whatever stolen moments they could. Rick’s place by Lover’s Lake (still in prison - hang in there buddy), their picnic bench in the woods, the empty locker room after cheer practice, backstage at The Hideout. Fucking whenever he could get her alone really…and all the other spaces in the inbetween? Well they were filled with making out, groping, sucking purple marks on their necks. You get the drift. Chrissy was like a strawberry sundae with whipped cream and sprinkles and he was starving.

So yes they were the queen and king of PDA (Queen takes King, naturally) but their friends, to their credit, didn’t protest too much because honestly it was a long time coming and they were just happy they didn’t have to put up with anymore longing glances or Eddie’s soft eyes. They still mumbled words like disgusting and perverts and can’t you at least have lunch before you start sucking face, Jesus when Eddie and Chrissy got really ramped out…but it was cool.

They were sex crazed maniacs riding the waves of hormones and lust and love, falling deeper and deeper into whatever sin your chosen deity prescribed to.

(Chrissy had hang ups like this at first - another gift from her mommy dearest - but when Eddie ate her out for the first time she’d cried out such wicked delightful things that made even Eddie blush).

However, they might be dumbasses in love for the first and last time but they 99.9% of the time practiced safe sex. Despite giving much evidence to the contrary, Eddie wasn’t a complete fucking idiot and he always made sure to have protection ready to go. Like he said, they had big plans after graduating, and though it might’ve been hilarious to invite Mrs Cunningham to a shotgun wedding (trailer trash all the way, baby), he knew Chrissy wanted to wait for all that stuff and what she wanted she would get. As for Eddie? Well, he was a simple fellow - he’d knock her up and marry her tomorrow - but liked the idea of driving Chrissy around California and chasing their dreams even more. All that romantic stuff, right? He wanted it. Fuck, he loved her so much.

Yet, even the best laid plans sometimes get a little crooked and maybe Eddie was a bit of a fucking idiot. Chrissy would afterwards blame the weed and Eddie blamed Chrissy’s perfect tits, but that’s besides the point.

The night in question took place after a spectacularly awesome gig at The Hideout. It was the first time Chrissy brought along her cheerleading friends from the team (which made his bandmates fucking gag) and the twerps from his D&D circle came too with their babysitting club which meant Harrington, Wheeler, Buckley. Besides those fun new additions, there was an actual crowd. Not huge by any standards, but it was a decent turn out for Hawkins. Word seemed to have traveled that watching Corroded Coffin might actually be a good night out and for the first time in decades The Hideout staff had to earn their wages. Enthused, the band were on their A-game and Eddie had never played so fucking well.

Plus Chrissy was standing front row jumping around like a freak and whooping (like his own personal cheerleader) and looked so pretty and wonderful and fuck. What a rush. He was riding a high.

So afterwards they rolled some joints backstage to chase another illicit high and ordered more beers. It wasn’t a party exactly but they had some well-earned fun. By the time last orders were called Gareth had to be carried to his car. It was so rock and roll.

Which left Eddie and Chrissy utterly and blissfully alone. You can see where this is going, right?

It was actually impressive that they managed to clear up and carry the rest of the band's equipment outside to his van, before totally sucking face. Eddie was amped up and grinning like a maniac because Chrissy was singing his songs under her breath and wearing the shiny strawberry lip gloss that drove him wild. She was wearing a baby blue summer dress that made her look like a fairytale princess (floaty sleeves and all) but it was short enough to show off her creamy thighs. It was one of his favourites (and when he asked if she’d worn it on purpose, just for him, she’d blushed and said of course, dummy he’d felt on top of the world).

So Eddie pushed Chrissy back against the alley wall and kissed her until they were breathless. He became totally lost in the magic of her like he always did, and melted when her talented little fingers slipped beneath his heavy belt.

“You witch,” he said. His voice sounded loud and heavy. “Weaving your dark fairy magic on me.”

Chrissy laughed and it sounded breathless and happy. Christ, maybe she really was a witch? He was in her fucking thrall, alright. She looked like a fairy in that dress and with those big twinkling blue eyes. Her long blonde hair (kissed by fire and sunsets and summer so it looked pink) fell down her back in waves. Seriously, how the fuck had he ever ever managed any of this?

His fairy-witch-elf-angel kissed him again. “I thought you were supposed to be the one with powers. Didn’t you seduce me away from my perfect wholesome boring life with your black magic?”

“And blood sacrifices to Satan. Don’t forget those,” Eddie reminded her. Her fingers roamed lower and traced against the length of his cock which of course was already hard and ready. “I’m not some cheap date you can seduce and fuck in an alley, you know.”

“You sure about that?”

Eddie cradled her face in his hands and dragged her mouth up so he could kiss into it slow and deliberate. She goddamn sighed into his mouth and he felt her body uncurl like a fucking flower for him. He didn’t think he would ever get enough of doing this to her and it still blew his mind that he was the one who could coax and draw out such reactions from her. Chrissy was so wonderfully responsive to his touch and well…him.

He moved one hand beneath her skirt (dresses were the best) and against her panties and yep…Chrissy was already so so wet for him.

“You’re such a groupie, Chrissy Cunningham.”

He pushed aside the thin material and traced a finger around her clit in a way he knew made Chrissy melt into a puddle of syrup and honey and all things sweet.

“Only for you, Eddie,” she whispered. She shut her eyes and let her head roll back against the brick wall. “You played so fucking well tonight, baby. You looked so good. I was so proud of you.” And just like that she was no witch or fairy but a goddamn angel. Eddie pressed kisses against her jaw, her chin, her nose.

She was like an arrow to the chest, seriously. Bullseye.

“You were?” he murmured. “You my number one fan, Chriss?”

“I’ve got the band shirt to prove it. If I’m real lucky the hot guitarist might just sign my tits.”

Eddie huffed a laugh against the crook of her neck. He loved it when she cursed.

“I can arrange that. Hear he’s got a thing for girls with big blue eyes and a pretty wet cunt that has his name written all over it.”

Chrissy actually moaned at that and Eddie quickened his fingers. He pressed his hips against her so she could feel just how hard she made him.

“I fucking loved watching you dance in the front row, right where you belong,” he said. “God, you know I only play for you, baby. You’re my inspiration, my fucking muse. None of this matters without you, Chriss.”

He slipped a finger inside her wet pussy and then - because she really was getting off on this, so was he - another. Chrissy told him once that she loved the feeling of his metal rings against her clit so he made sure they scraped against it just enough.

“Eddie!” she hissed.

“Yeah baby?”

“I just…just fucking love how you easy you get me off. Fuck. I fucking love you, you mean and scary freak.”

He kissed the corner of her smiling mouth and then pressed another to her neck.

“I love you too, baby girl. Going to practice my ass off so when we leave this dump I can find work and buy you all the pretty things you deserve.”

“Told you I don’t need any of that.”

He nipped her neck this time and she hissed again.

“Want to take care of you.”

“Eddie…only need you.”

He added another finger - three now, fuck yes - and took hold of her perfect ass with the other.

“Going to buy you a diamond. Size of my fist.”

Chrissy had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from fucking screaming.

Her hands moved against his cock again and felt that it was weeping and ready for her. Her hands were trembling but she made short work of unbuckling his belt (she was so perfect).

“I need you to fuck me, Eddie. Need to feel you inside me.”

“Already?”

“Mmm.”

“You don’t want to ride my knuckles ‘till you come first?”

“I’m seriously going to lose it if you don’t fuck me against this wall right now, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie didn’t need anymore convincing (crap it was hot when she started bossing him around. Was this a new kink to explore? Chrissy could tease just about anything out of him honestly and he was living for it). He removed his hand from her ass and dug around in his jacket pocket for…Ah. There it was.

He looked away from the vision that was her for a millisecond so as to rip open the foil packet, but then noticed…

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Well things had been going far too well for him recently - maybe he deserved some cosmic retribution or kick up the ass to remind him he wasn’t actually living in a dream.

“Uh…Chriss? Bad news on that front.”

“Mm?”

“Packet’s ripped, sweetheart. We seem to be without a condom.”

“Oh…”

His fingers had stilled and Chrissy was biting her plump little lip that tasted of strawberries and magic. She was watching him closely, her cheeks flushed and panting from being so close to what promised to be a world-shattering orgasm.

Eddie could feel her trembling and threw the packet away, intent on getting back to her and her needs right away. He was just about to drop to his knees and eat out her pretty wet cunt, when she said very hesitantly…

“We could always just…do it anyway? Without a condom, I mean.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to her lips. “Baby, no. We’ve talked about this…you know?”

“Amanda from the cheer team told me there’s a morning-after pill I can take. She told me where to get it from too. You can drive us tomorrow, easy…use a fake name…”

Chrissy’s hands were once again moving across his cock and he felt himself instinctively lean into her. He began moving his fingers again too and was rewarded by a soft moan that sounded like a fucking melody of everything good and perfect.

Eddie felt like his brain might explode. He was a guy, okay, who had a beautiful angel coming apart on one hand (literally) and on the other the idea of stopping this and saying they could wait, they could fuck tomorrow after he went to a store. But Eddie wasn’t capable of really resisting Chrissy anything, you know, nor could he resist the way her eyes were fluttering shut in pleasure or the way she was gripping so tight around his fingers. It wasn’t like he was pressuring her into this either - Chrissy said she wanted this.

And yeah, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t either. A part of him fucking loved everything about the idea.

“You sure, Chriss?”

“Yeah, baby…” she nodded and licked her lips. Oh yeah, he was gone. “I want you to fuck me right now, Eddie.”

She must have seen the exact moment the sensible part of his brain totally shut down, because she kissed him hard and licked her tongue against his. Eddie groaned against her lips and his fingers were again digging up into her causing her to gasp.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart, okay…I’ve got you.”

Eddie withdrew his fingers (causing her to pout in a way that made his knees almost buckle) and grabbed hold of her thighs, before lifting and pushing her hard against the brick wall. Chrissy twisted her legs around his waist and seemed to pull him even closer with her thighs.

“You are a witch,” he murmured against the shell of her ear. “You know I’m your slave, baby. You say jump and I fucking jump.”

“You just make me crazy, Eddie. Can’t help it. Don’t want to wait another second.”

God this was irresponsible, but at the same time Eddie’s heart was shaking and he was overcome with a giant wave of fucking need and want. The fact Chrissy wanted him so badly as to forgo being sensible and safe was a huge fucking turn on. He was going to fuck Chrissy Cunningham bareback.

Bareback, raw, like a damn caveman.

Chrissy was shifting in his arms so the head of his dick pushed against her hot dripping opening and that was all Eddie needed really, and he moved his hips and pushed right into her. Right up to the fucking hilt.

“Holy shit.”

One of Chrissy’s hands wound into his hair and the sharp tug made him curse again. Her other hand pressed flat against the wall behind them, nails scratching at the brickwork as if she couldn’t contain just how much shining hot pleasure was currently coursing through her body.

Like bottled lightning, baby. Plug him into a power cord because he was going to light her up.

Eddie rocked against her again, using his weight to pin her up. He brought his face down into her neck where he hissed and fucking spat kisses against her skin. He began fucking up into her fast and careless.

“You feel so unbelievably good, Chriss. My god. Just so hot and warm and…like velvet or silk, baby. It’s fucking addictive, is what this is.”

This was fucking dangerous because he was right, it was insanely addictive (and he knew addictions). The greediness was already taking root inside him and he knew he would miss this desperately when it was gone. He’d have to store away every sensation in his memory like a treasured jewel. What a difference that little bit of rubber made, right? He suddenly wanted to set fire to the store and buy these pills in bulk, if it just meant he could do this to Chrissy every day and every night.

“Can feel you so deep and warm inside me, Eddie,” Chrissy was moaning. “There’s literally nothing between us. Just your skin and mine, and I’m riding your bare dick.”

“Feels fucking amazing, baby. Too good.”

“This is so so hot.”

“You like me fucking you bareback?”

“Yes…”

“This is gunna be feeding my dreams for weeks, sweetheart. You going to think of my bare naked cock when you touch yourself too? Think about how close we are right now?”

Chrissy cried out then and threw her head back. Her hair fell around her shoulders like a halo.

“God, Eddie. I’m so close already.”

“I know, I can fucking feel you are. You’re so hot and tight.”

Her words were encouraging him onwards and he began holding her thighs so tight he might’ve been worried about making bruises if he wasn’t so distracted.

“Chrissy?”

She whimpered.

“You going to come on my cock, sweetheart? Squirt your pretty pussy juices all over my cock? You’ve not done that before.”

“Yeah…”

“An’ then I’m gunna’ come inside you, Chriss. Going to come inside you so deep you can feel me there tomorrow. I’m going to fucking drown you.”

“Yes please, baby. I want it so bad. Oh Eddie…I want this so much…”

“You do? Let me hear it.”

“Want your cum in me so bad. Where it’s supposed to be, you know? Right where it belongs.”

“God Chriss! Fuck. Really do wanna knock you up when you talk like that.”

Eddie the Freak knocking up the goddamn prom queen herself. Had an excellent ring to it honestly.

“Oh Eddie!

Chrissy screamed out as she came and her nails dug into his scalp. Eddie kept thrusting up into her as she rode out her waves and waves of pleasure and the feeling of her tight dripping cunt pulsing around him soon dragged him over the edge too.

“Come inside me Eddie. Let me fucking feel you.”

Eddie swore into her neck as she fucking milked his cock and he came so hard and fast that he thought he might drop her. Fucking hell. This is fucking heaven. Chrissy’s pussy is fucking heaven.

She squeezed every last drop out of him.

Trembling, Eddie kissed her when he was done and gently lowered her down. Chrissy’s knees nearly buckled and she had to hang on to his jacket for support, but she whispered she was okay. As he pulled out from her, his cum trickled freely down her thighs. He looked down at his softening cock and saw it glisten with Chrissy’s wet juices.

“That was…”

“Fucking hot.”

Chrissy giggled and she leant back against the wall again. Eddie tied his belt back in place and joined her so they were leaning side by side. He struggled to catch his breath.

“Want my shirt to…you know? Tidy up?”

“No. I…” she tucked a strand of (tangled, freshly fucked) hair behind her ear. “I kind of like it. I know that sounds weird but it’s…you…you know? Reminds me what the fuck we just did.”

Eddie felt like his heart might just burst again. Chrissy’s fingers laced through his own.

“We should get back. We need to get up early for the…”

“Yeah. Amanda says we’ve got some time, but it’s more effective against a pregnancy the sooner you take it, you know?”

Eddie found himself bringing their clasped hands up to his lips. He looked at Chrissy - this witch, elf, fairy, minx - who had so thoroughly and effectively became such a huge part of his life. Sure he had a life before her but nothing really stood out, you know? She came along (came back into technically) and made everything just click. Suddenly he had his person, and a life and a fucking future infront of him. He wanted it all - everything - with her and he wanted it all right now. He was greedy, needy, for it. He couldn’t fucking wait.

Chrissy was watching him with a soft look in her eyes. Could she read his mind now? He wouldn’t put it past her.

“...one day, Eddie,” she said quietly. “We’ll do that again one day for real.”

Eddie nodded and slid his arm around her shoulder as they walked to his van. "Yeah, I'd really like that, Chriss."

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

A/N: Full disclosure - I have no idea about contraception history but a very quick google tells me the morning after pill was available for access in 1984 in the UK. Who knows about Hawkins/the US. I imagine it would be tricky for Chrissy to get it honestly, but this is basically just porn without plot. Go with it. But not too much. Use protection. Stay safe kids.

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy and eddie #chrissy cunningham #eddie wants to knock chrissy up someday #but no plot really seriously #ymaohoh #stay safe and do not do what eddie and chrissy do #sorry

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ymaohoh · 2 months

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Love the idea of 'Rule 63 - Gender Swap' with Hellcheer pairing! Introducing Ellie Munson and Chris Cunningham Check out my oneshot fic 'Rule 63' if you want some more! On Archive or Tumblr.

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

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

Hellcheer nation still going strong 2024.

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ymaohoh · 3 months

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Chrissy Ran Away - 2/3 - Fic

Chapter 2: Did you feel the ground beneath us start to move?

Eddie wasn’t being so friendly to her now. He’d barely spoken to her since she turned up covered in mud and leaves with a fucked up knee. He seemed to be doing his best to avoid her completely. What if Chrissy ran from Eddie after her vision? What if it pushed them apart? They share a joint and it gets much much worse. My take on 'Chrissy lives'. Chrissy and Eddie talk. This whole chapter is Chrissy/Eddie 1-1.

Word Count: 5,295

Chapter: 2/3

Warning: Drug use and lots of angst.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

Previous Chapter 1/3 here.

Next chapter up 3/3

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“You want…a hit?”

He made it sound like she’d just announced she wanted to jump in the lake naked.

She swallowed.

The backdoor opened out onto a little patch of grass which overlooked the lake. It wasn’t Chrissy’s first time at Lover’s Lake. She’d come here a couple of times for weekend parties or when someone wanted to swim right now and couldn’t wait to drive the extra few hours to go to the larger lake on the other side of town (which offered stores nearby with magnets and postcards, as well as a place to rent fishing stuff). Lover’s Lake was pretty though and Chrissy actually preferred its quiet secluded charm. Even though she hated the way she looked in her swimsuit she was a pretty good swimmer. She could swim across the lake and back easy.

Not at night though, obviously.

The lake was pitch black now though she could see the ripples sparkling on the water and where the treeline met the navy blue of the sky.

Reefer Rick had obviously enjoyed sitting out here to… presumably smoke?...as he had a nice set up here. While inside the house was sparse and devoid of any decoration or attention (her mum would disdainfully describe it as a ‘bachelor pad’ like on the TV) he’d actually made some effort out here to make it look nice.

A dozen or so wooden chairs and camping fold outs formed a circle around an old log burner. Some of the chairs even boasted rain-proof cushions.Tall metal poles (camping poles maybe?) had been set up purposefully around the circle with what looked like old fairy lights trailing between them. Contrasting wickedly with this aesthetic was a large tin bucket with empty beer bottles and cigarette butts inside. She could even see an empty bottle of the same whiskey her dad liked. Behind her, by the wall of the house, lay a fishing rod and a load of chopped up logs for the fire (wet and useless now). One of them still had an axe embedded in the side.

Just beyond the patch of grass she could make out a small dock which snaked around the side of the house to the boarded up boathouse. She wondered if Rick ever dragged a chair to the dock’s edge and fished that way? That’s what she would do.

Her grandfather used to take her fishing. She used to squeal at the worms but she enjoyed it all the same. He only took her brother now.

Rick evidently liked sitting here in the evenings with the lights on as he enjoyed the last rays of sunset. Perhaps alone or perhaps with company. Friends. Maybe he had a girlfriend? It would be pretty romantic to share this place with someone special. She recalled Eddie’s words from yesterday about Rick being a good guy despite being in prison and Nancy shooting him down. Maybe…maybe it was possible to be both? A criminal and a good guy who enjoyed sunsets and fishing and drinking beer with his buddies?

And who was it hurting really?

She didn’t think Jason would like this place. He’d turn his nose up and say things like ‘white trash’ and ‘run down’ and ‘fucking boring, Chrissy’.

But she liked it here. It was peaceful and private and secret. Her future was already mapped out before her like a storybook (edited carefully by her mom and dad and even Jason had a look in) but maybe one day she could have a private place like this.

Yeah with two crying babies at her feet, her waist thick with another, and a god-damned gourmet dinner to plan, she thought archly. Jason had already said they would hire a cook and cleaner. She only had to stay in shape and give him the children he would never spend time with.

She knew she was a beast for being down about this. She did. She knew it was ungrateful and wicked. But she couldn’t help but just want…

Whatever. Cry me a river, right?

She wondered if Eddie had a girlfriend he brought to magical places like this to watch sunsets and laugh and make out with. He never mentioned a name or hinted there could be someone but Chrissy was starting to see there was a lot more to Eddie Munson then the rumours would suggest. Just like Fred. Just like Rick. Maybe even like her?

Eddie was watching her take everything in but his expression was unreadable. He had his shield up.

She realised she still had to answer his question. Oh yeah. Right. Weed.

“If that’s okay?” When he didn’t answer right away she added, her heart thudding, “I can pay you obviously. Sorry. I know it costs a lot and it’s your business. I’m not asking for any favours. Sorry. Twenty dollars, right? I have cash in my purse.”

He spoke slowly. “No, it's fine. You don’t need to pay me, Cunningham.”

Eddie had half risen from one of the wooden chairs when she came out and let himself sink back down again. Chrissy had an idea and quickly reached back inside the house for one of Dustin’s torches before firmly closing the door behind her. She chose one of the wooden seats on the opposite side of the circle, careful to give him some of the distance he clearly still wanted.

“I’ll keep this on,” she tapped a bubblegum-pink nail to the torch laying at her side but made sure it shone down onto her thigh to smother most of the glow. She didn’t want any late-night hikers (or whoever the hell else came to the woods at this time of the night) to spot the light and bother them. The lake was incredibly secluded with only one access road but like Nancy said - they didn’t need any more trouble. “If there’s any danger or problems…from the upside-down …then I’ll see it flicker.”

Eddie nodded and stretched out his long legs.

They observed each other silently in the near darkness and Chrissy pulled the borrowed blanket up around her shoulders. Even though it was spring it was still chilly and she wasn’t wearing very much. Though her baby-blue nightshirt covered far more of her than Nancy’s did, it was made from the same light breathable cotton. All of Chrissy’s night clothes were conservatively cut with buttons to her chin and her knees firmly hidden (though this one was sleeveless). She'd seen more trendy sexy outfits at the mall and in the magazines, but knew her parents would throw a fit if they ever caught a flash of silk or lace. They would immediately ask her who exactly she was buying these outfits for. God forbid she wanted to wear something just because she liked it and wanted to feel the silk against her skin.

In contrast Eddie had shrugged on his leather jacket though his usual patched denim vest was noticeably absent. She wondered if leather would feel just as great on skin as silk did?

“It’s pretty here, Eddie. Rick picked a good spot,” she offered softly.

“Yeah.”

“I came up here last summer with some friends. I wanted to swim but nobody was keen on the idea. I forgot my sunscreen though and my shoulders and nose turned pink. Jason thought it would be funny to cool down in the lake and tossed me in,” she smiled weakly. “So I guess I did get my swim.” Her pale skin always freckled and burnt in even the slightest ray of sunshine. Her mom hated it.

She offered this out as some kind of olive branch but Eddie simply lit the joint and put his lighter away with a soft clink of metal. It’s like pulling a tooth out, she thought.

The only other noises around them were the gentle lapping of water against the side of the dock and the quiet windchime Rick had hanging by the back door. The only light came from the torch at her side and the moonlight above which was bright and piercing.

“I thought Nancy was taking the second watch,” he said instead.

“I couldn’t sleep. Nancy was out cold when Robin came up and it didn’t seem fair to wake her up. Not when she’s been so nice. I don’t mind. I’d like to help.” Chrissy said quietly. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll be alright though. I’ve pulled plenty of all nighters.”

She wondered if he was having nightmares too. It was the sort of the thing that they should discuss and perhaps bond over, having experienced it together. She and Eddie were only here right now because of that one shared horrible event.

She didn’t ask though. Neither did he. Maybe she should have.

“You’ve smoked this before, right? At a jock party or something?” he asked. “Just so I know. I don’t want you to like black out or puke. Harrington will kill me. He seems like your delegated guard now.”

“My friend Amanda from the cheer squad bought some for us after the homecoming game last year. I tried it then. Do you know her?”

“No. I don’t know Amanda.” He said it like it was obvious. Like how she’d not known who Fred was.

She almost flinched.

“Well…she got some. Jason and his friends do it sometimes though he lies and says he doesn’t.”

Eddie made a noise in the back of his throat at the mention of Jason.

He took a long drag from the joint and passed it over to her. The earthy smokey smell rose up between them.

She thanked him quietly.

Before she could lift it up to her lips though he asked, “I really don’t want to be that person who tells you what to do, but are you sure this is a good idea, Cunningham? You…you’re going through a lot. What if this makes your…visions…whatever they are…worse?”

She’d thought about it too but she could see goosebumps on her arm and it furthered her resolve. The chill helped make her feel more awake and alive and steady. She suddenly felt like she was in the exact right place.

“Maybe it will, or maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll help stop me thinking about them all the time. This is all crazy, Eddie. I can’t imagine some weed will make it crazier. I only want a little bit anyway.”

Eddie didn’t say anything but she could feel his eyes watching her face.

She took a short drag and softly exhaled. She was surprised she didn’t cough. She’d coughed her lungs up the first time.

“I don’t know which bit of the last two days is the weirder. Seeing all that last night…finding out science fiction is in fact not fiction…that Wheeler keeps guns under her bed…or you Chrissy Cunningham sitting here smoking a joint with me at Reefer Rick’s while all those guys are asleep.” He was running a hand through his messy hair and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe any of it. That was understandable.

“Maybe all of the above?” she replied gently. She took another drag and passed it back.

She could already feel the warmth of the joint in the tips of her fingers and the slow haze uncurling in the back of her head. She wouldn't need more than another few tokes to get buzzed.

They sat quietly for a few moments. It wasn’t the nice comfortable silence that they’d all eaten dinner in, but more of a hush. As though the darkness around them was holding its breath and waiting for something to happen. He was clearly not in the mood to make conversation with her but at the same time struggled with the silence. That seemed to be something Eddie struggled with in general. Maybe it’s why he rambled so much? Made himself so present and big? Her successful smoking of the joint seemed to have made him forget for a second that he was trying to ignore her.

“Glad to see you don’t chief your spliffs, Cunningham.” Chrissy must have looked completely confused because he explained. “It means hogging it. Some people weren’t taught how to share.”

“Oh. You’re welcome?”

She suddenly felt silly at her inexperience even though it wasn’t exactly her first time. She didn’t know any of the words and terms for weed, or molly, or reefer? (was that a word?). He probably thought she was a total drip. She tried to recall some of the stuff Amanda and the other girls said when they were messing around before. She remembered Stacey giggling and saying she’d tried it and said…what was the word?

“Are we shotgunning?”

Again Eddie looked at her like she wanted to jump in the lake naked. This time pushing him in too. He actually coughed.

“Are you…D-Do you know what that means?”

“It’s a way of smoking it with someone else…right? Sorry. Am I wrong? Stacey said she’d done it with her boyfriend.”

She’d not heard Eddie sound embarrassed before. She didn’t even know he could get embarrassed like other people. He clearly was now though. “It’s… when two people smoke together, yeah, but one person inhales and exhales into the other person’s open mouth. It means you can get high without the joint.”

Chrissy felt like she was blushing from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She was so glad it was dark.

“It’s definitely definitely not what we’re doing right now, Cunningham. I think I’d know. Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m corrupting your little soul even telling you about it.”

“Oh…wow. Stacey missed that part out.”

“Not something in Carver’s wheelhouse, I expect.”

The idea of Jason of all people doing something like that made her nearly giggle. Jason would faint if she even mentioned it. He didn’t even know she’d tried weed. “No way. He’d say something like ‘good girls don’t do that stuff, Chrissy.”

It sounded so intimate. So private. Had Eddie ever done it? Unlike Jason, she could easily imagine Eddie doing something like that. He was so alive. So vibrant. There was no way she was asking him though.

Eddie passed her back the joint and she took another small drag.

“Good girls do that stuff. Trust me.”

Interesting. She didn’t know what to really say to that so instead looked at her bare feet which were curled up beside her.

“I mean…you came to me for drugs…what two days ago? I thought it was a joke at first, the queen of Hawkins High asking little old me for weed. I was sort of expecting to get jumped when I walked into those woods, you know? But no, there you were all alone in your white sneakers and little pink backpack. It was like some bizzaro dream. And then, if you can believe it, you asked all sweet and innocent like for something stronger and got into scary Eddie’s van. Fucking crazy. Definitely not a good girl move.”

“I didn’t even know what stronger was,” she admitted. “I just…”

“You would have taken whatever I gave you, huh?”

“Yeah…probably.”

It was an irresponsible thing to admit, she knew that. But her need to just forget and sleep and finally put an end to her nightmare visions had overridden any concerns about her safety.

Don’t cry, Chrissy. It’s time for your suffering to be over…

“For the record…I wouldn’t have let you actually take the ketamine. I was already having second thoughts when…”

When it happened. He didn’t want to say the words and neither did she.

The memory seemed to rise up between them and she heard him shift.

She cleared her throat and thought about something else to say. “I smoked weed a month ago when I thought it might help me stop being so hungry all the time…I was on a crash diet trying to fit into some dress my mom bought for a church thing.”

Woah, why was she admitting this? She could hardly blame the weed. She’d only had a little.

Maybe she just wanted to exchange one worry for another. One she could manage.

Obviously smoking the weed hadn’t worked and she’d ended up eating so much. Cookies, chips, two whole chocolate muffins. Her mom was so mad when she found the empty packets in the bin and Chrissy never did fit into the dress. The seriously fucked up thing? She checked the label of the new dress afterwards and her mom had deliberately purchased one a size too small.

Eddie took a long drag and sat back again.

“Fuck sake. Seriously. They say that rock music and weed and fucking Dungeons and Dragons are responsible for creating little demon children, but that magazine you’re holding? That’s the true filth. None of the people in that magazine are real or healthy. They’re like zombies. And the stuff they advertise? Pure crap you don’t really need. Kids can go crazy trying to be like that. It’s all such bullshit. Capitalist bullshit.”

Maybe he too was exchanging one emotion for another.

Eddie didn’t sound embarrassed anymore. He sounded really annoyed.

Chrissy didn’t really know about what capitalism was or why Eddie felt it was so bad. She’d read about it in one of her classes (she couldn’t recall which one) and thought it was to do with the Russians maybe. Didn’t they hate capitalism and America out there? Chrissy didn’t mind asking questions in class where the teachers all liked her and she could do no wrong but Eddie seemed so certain of his views that she didn’t want to sound stupid in front of him again. Not that he’d ever say that or use that term, but he’d probably roll his eyes when he thought she couldn’t see. Though Chrissy’s average was B+ she suspected Eddie (and most people actually) presumed she was some dumb cheerleader. It came with the territory.

And the models? Yes, she knew the models on the magazine cover were not like him or her or people she would spot on the sidewalk. She knew they probably starved themselves all the time to look like that. God, like she did really.

But Eddie didn’t know that. How could he?

“That crap’s bad for you, Cunningham, it’ll make you crazy trying to look that way. Only sad moronic sheep think that any of that stuff matters.”

Yeah, he wasn’t wrong. Hurt though.

“I know it’s not real. I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know what to say.

He seemed to. “It’s all bullshit. You…You don’t need that crap. I mean…Christ. You’re Chrissy Cunningham.”

She flicked at the magazine weakly. “I just wanted something to read for the nightshift, Eddie.”

She could hear the gentle windchime behind her. Her hand trembled.

Was it just her or was his tone more gentle now? Had she managed to pull him out from his anger about magazines, capitalism, and who knows what else?

“Don’t you read books? You know, other than for class. I’m sure Nancy or Robin have some you can borrow. Rick might have some. Dustin’s brought some fantasy stuff along too. Kid’s read The Hobbit more times than I have.”

No. That sounded like sympathy. Her dad always said that was akin to pity.

Chrissy passed back the joint and didn’t speak for a moment.

Instead she lifted her head to peer up at the night sky above them. The moon was so bright and the stars were shining magnificently. That’s a word they used in storybooks, right? It was hard to really appreciate their beauty where she lived in town…but out here? With no traffic or buildings or street lights?

They God-damned twinkled at her.

She tried to collect her thoughts. She’d come out here to share his joint, yes, but she’d also come out here to try and speak to Eddie and maybe find out why there was this…distance...between them. He’d purposefully built a wall up between them for some reason (in the woods there’d been no such wall. That had been easy. Simple. Nice). Her joining him out here on this dark patch of grass was the same as her tapping against that wall looking for weak points. If he only opened up a little and talked to her properly, she could pull out a fucking sledgehammer and break it down. She couldn’t lift it alone though. She needed his help.

(Were good girls allowed to use sledgehammers?)

“You use my full name a lot, you know? I know you do it sometimes with Dustin, though with him it’s like a joke because you like him.”

He wasn’t expecting her to say that. She could tell because he was now leaning forwards towards her.

She went on. “You’ve even dropped Wheeler and Buckley. But with Steve you haven’t. Same as me. It’s always Cunningham or Chrissy Cunningham. You say it like…like it’s a title. A thing.”

“You are Chrissy Cunnginham,” he said. Like that’s all he needed to say.

“So?”

“Seriously? You’re really asking me this? Look, I know it’s your name and it doesn’t matter to you in your sparkly pink bubble or whatever, but to everyone else at our damn school that name means something. It’s got weight. To those kids who get picked on, bullied, slammed against lockers. Kids like Dustin and Nancy’s brother Mike? They got it real bad last year. Real bad. You know what you mean to people like them? You’re fucking untouchable. You should have seen Dustin’s face when you patted his shoulder earlier - it was like fucking Christmas to the kid.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken. “I didn’t know about Dustin or Mike. If I’d known…”

“What? You’d help them? You’re surrounded by people who give us freaks shit every single day. Your asshole boyfriend Carver? The guy who laughed and threw you in the lake? Did you hear what he did to that kid two weeks ago? Their parents had to pick them up.”

She didn’t know. He could see she didn’t.

“Honestly, Cunningham, I’m not trying to be a dick or attack you or anything, because you just don’t God-damn know. That’s the whole problem. You’re just this perfect pretty Barbie cheerleader who just oozes sugar and sparkles and rainbows, you know? That’s what you are. You know how many kids look after you when you walk down a hall? How many teachers fall like putty in your hands? You’ve never experienced anything like what us freaks have. It was the exact same with Harrington before he graduated though I think you’ve got him beat.”

Chrissy felt tears come to her eyes though she tried her hardest to blink them back. He was right, she didn’t know about this. Was that an excuse though? Was not bothering to look beyond her safe bubble just as bad as those bullies?

“Steve’s a good guy…You’ve seen how he feels about the kids. About Dustin.”

“He’s alright…He’s not what I thought he’d be like.”

“You mean like mean and scary?” she quoted quietly. “You know what I think, Eddie Munson? I don’t think you have a clue.”

She’d kept her voice quiet throughout this whole conversation, never once raising it or showing any of the frustration or anxieties she was feeling deep down. How fucking scared she was. Quiet and soft. It’s how she always spoke. She was good at controlling it.

Now though, she let a slither of that frustration shine through. It was only a tiny tiny fraction but it was there and she could tell he noticed because he dragged the joint on the grass to extinguish it and crammed it into one of the used bottles.

“I might be some Barbie doll. I might be popular, and a cheerleader, and all those things that repulse you. I might hang around with people who are mean and nasty but now I know that I’ll change things. I might hang out with people you don’t like and act a certain way, but you know what? You’re the same as Jason. The same as those shitty bullies. You might not punch down, but you’re still punching and right now it seems like I’m your target. You hate being called a freak? You hate being put in a box just because of the things you like doing. What did you call me? A sad, moronic sheep. I’ll have you know I like being a cheerleader!”

She’d gotten to her feet at some point and she pulled the blanket around her tighter. Eddie stood too and looked like he wanted to interrupt, but she didn’t let him. She kept talking. Soft. Measured. But there was weight to it now.

“I’m proud of being a cheerleader and it helped us earlier when I climbed through that window.”

“Nearly risking your neck!”

“I like being in a team. I like being part of something. Just like you do with your D&D. And you know what? Screw you, I love to read books though you’ve made the assumption I don’t because I read magazines and I get grades just handed to me. My dad has an entire wall of bookcases in his office full of books on geography and art and languages. Subjects I happen to love. I’ve read them all. I’ve got my own bookcase in my bedroom where I keep my favourites. You know what my favourite book is? No. You’ve never asked. You just assume…”

“Cunningham, wait…I mean, Chrissy…”

“It’s Little Women, Eddie. My grandmother gave it to me.”

Eddie was holding out his hands like she might be calmed by it. Like she was a wild animal or a child.

“I don’t know why I’m even justifying my life to you, but here I am because you don’t ask. You know when I started freshman year I was a member of four different clubs? Yearbook, chem club, drama, photography? I loved photography. You won’t believe how much I loved it but I had to give them up for cheerleading after I made one wrong step in a cheer routine. One mistake, but it nearly injured someone.”

“Chrissy, please.”

“I think you sound jealous, Eddie Munson.”

That made him look at her. Really look at her. He’d moved closer to her (when did that happen?) and she could feel his eyes on her shaking balled up hands, the blanket she had wrapped around her like armour, her pale pale face.

“Jealous of Steve. Jealous of me. But you know what else? You’re a hypocrite. Because you know Steve is a good person, but you’re still treating me like an enemy.”

“I know.”

God, his acknowledgement of the way he was acting was like a breath of fresh air. She took a deep breath of it.

“I’m so tired, Eddie. I can’t…”

What was she even doing? What did any of this matter right now when they had demons and wizards chasing them? Why did she care that Eddie didn’t look her in the eye? What was he to her?

She felt a wave of exhaustion drape over her like a cloak then, wrapping around her limbs like it wanted to pull her down to the floor like a dead weight. She was so tired of being scared and worried and upset. She was tired of feeling hungry all the time and smiling when she wanted to yell and shout. She was tired of being sad. She’d been sad for so long now that it was a surprise Vecna had waited this long before targeting her. She wasn’t shouting now though she had every reason to.

She felt a yawn shudder through her body like a tidal wave. She thought (or maybe she was hallucinating again) that Eddie’s arms might have twitched just a little bit then like he wanted to…Who knew. Push her away? Hug her?

She should just leave and go back to bed. Maybe she would be able to sleep now instead of staring up at the ceiling and picturing her own death over and over. Wake up tomorrow and apologise to Eddie and blame her quiet outburst on the weed. But she didn’t. She made it worse.

Her voice cracked.

“I’m sorry I ran. I’m so sorry I ran away, Eddie.”

Did she imagine it or did he flinch back like she’d physically wounded him?

Memories of Eddie shouting her name suddenly flooded her senses. His terrified voice yelling her name. Yelling Chrissy. Just Chrissy.

Chrissy, come back! Don’t just leave!

And she’d been so full of terror, the taste of smoke and ash still clawing at her throat. Her feet pounding on the ground. The leaves and mud on the ground when she finally fell sobbing to her knees.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I know you were scared after what happened and I should have stayed to help you. Talked to you. Been there with you when Max and the others got there. It wasn’t fair to leave you alone to explain. You never asked for any of this and I feel so awful that I’ve dragged you into it. But please…please…don’t blame me for it now. Please don’t shut me out. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

She didn't know what she expected from Eddie. She hadn’t planned on saying any of this to him like this.

Help me break down the wall, Eddie, she thought. We can swing the sledgehammer down together. Talk to me. Shout at me even.

But Eddie didn’t want to tear down the wall. Not now. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes or confide in her. And her saying sorry would not change any of that.

Eddie let out a noise that sounded like a wounded animal and he beat his fists together. She saw in the moonlight that he was crying. He actually used one of those trembling fists to punch the wall by the back door although it must have hurt.

He was breathing very deeply. Suddenly the peace and quiet around this little patch of grass seemed to come crashing down and she could hear it roaring in her ears.

“I can't do this, Chrissy. I can’t. I’m holding on by a fucking thread, okay? And if you see me shake or slip up then it’ll all come tumbling down, I swear to God. You… saying sorry and how you wanted to be there for me? I know what you want from me, Chrissy, I do, I can see it written on your face in blood, but I can’t do it. I’m a coward. I’m no hero. You’re going to bring me to my fucking knees and I won’t be able to…get back up. I’m not strong enough.”

She knew she was crying too.

“Eddie…”

“...and you’ve given yourself a fucking manicure,” he continued with a laugh that sounded so empty and dead. He turned his back to her and she could see the tightness of his shoulders, his back, his arms (she’d never noticed Eddie’s strength before but she could see it now in his bare forearms as he clenched his fists). “You shouldn’t have come out here. Go back inside and I’ll finish the watch. Take my bed. You need to get some rest.”

She was being dismissed. Chrissy slowly walked back to the door. She glanced back but didn’t know what to say to make everything better. She’d said enough.

“Go to sleep, Chrissy.”

She went to Steve’s room just like he told her and lay down on Eddie’s side of the bed. The sheets were cold now.

She’d never had a panic attack before but she had one now. She smothered it into the blanket, her wrists trembling and her chest racing.

Tick tick tick.

----

A/N: Poor Eddie and Chrissy. They're really struggling to connect and communicate. The next chapter will be the aftermath with a surprising turn of events.

Was the end super melodramatic? Hell yes. Give me that sweet sweet angst.

I see Chrissy's loves all the girls in Little Woman. She doesn't have a favourite.

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer fanfic #eddissy #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham #ymaohoh #chrissy ran away #eddie wants to shotgun with chrissy #chrissy and eddie #chrissy deserved better #chrissy lives

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ymaohoh · 2 months

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'Rule 63' - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

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

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

Setting: Hawkins High School

Date: 1986, baby

Introducing:

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

Introducing:

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

Enter stage left:

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

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

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

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

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

No fucking way…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needed some kind of relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then a snap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another snap. He shuddered and rubbed his temples.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm sorry. I…”

“That's okay.”

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

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

“I’m sorry!” Chris laughed.

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

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

“I dunno. You're a freak.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mean and scary?”

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

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

He actually snorted at that. “Me?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you have anything maybe stronger?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cunningham?”

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

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

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

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

“They’ve messed with you?”

“Tried to. I just avoid it all now.”

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

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

“But…I could try talking to her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well… you got me there.”

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

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

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

“This is such a weird fucking day.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh…water would be great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tick.

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

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

Tick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Chris, and you’re welcome.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He saw her silently mouth the word ‘Jedi’.

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

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

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

Tick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s been said,” she smiled weakly.

“Do you think I'm losing it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re on, weird girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well that could get fucked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“CHRIS!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then - miraculously - the lights stopped flashing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually his grip loosened and she gasped for air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quick notes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ebongawk · 2 months

Note

25) for the beautiful Hellcheer fake dating AU which blew my little brain 😁😁

25. Is there anything you would change now about this fic (we're a lie (you and I))? Why or why not?

One of my biggest fears when writing we're a lie was that I was overenunciating some of the themes and scenes. While I didn't cut a lot that I had already written, there were a few scenes and instances that I didn't end up writing at all for fear of overextending the plot and boring my readers. A Lot happens to Eddie and Chrissy in that universe in a relatively short amount of time because I tried to stay as close to the canon timeline as I could, and while it's not out of the realm of possibility that so much might happen in a span of a couple months, it was stressful in that so much came at them at once and that I didn't have an opportunity to, like, give them any real moments of peace.

tldr; I would've made it longer lmao

(also tysm I'm so happy you liked my little weirdos 🥰🥰)

ask meme

#hellcheer #eddissy #we're a lie (you and I)#writing #my writing #ebongawk ask #ymaohoh

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ymaohoh · 2 months

Text

Chrissy Ran Away - 3/3 - Fic

Chapter 3: On the wharf, I was caught in a tailspin

Word Count: 10,188 (Oh god, I'm sorry)

Chapter: 3/3

Warning: some non-con touching about halfway through.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

Previous Chapter 1/3 here.

Previous Chapter 2/3 here.

(see end for notes)

------

Chrissy knew she was pretty. Knew she had a nice symmetrical face (according to a magazine quiz it was a ’heart-shape’) and people always remarked on her smile. Ever since middle school people had taken it upon themselves to comment on her looks as if she should be eternally grateful for their compliments and praise. She always pictured her mom’s screwed up face when she heard the word ugly - always saw the sewing machine she would bring out when she thought Chrissy looked heavy. The way she uttered the word ugly made it sound like the most awful thing that could ever happen. Forget about disease or poverty or mental illness. No no, being considered ugly was a sin in the Cunningham homestead.

So Chrissy knew her appearance meant a lot. It held weight. It was the only real source of currency she owned and could trade off (you know - apart from actual currency). She had learned by the tender age of twelve (when her body started changing in funny new embarrassing ways) the impact her looks had on others and that other people felt good and treated her nice when she smiled and giggled and tried.

Her mom would repeat over and over that appearance was everything. It didn’t matter how shitty you felt inside as long as you kept it to yourself. Chrissy’s mom was not a brilliant example of a good mom. Chrissy knew this. Her counsellor Ms Kelley knew this. Her father probably knew this though he would never lift a finger to help. Chrissy worried about turning into her mom one day but maybe the real worry was taking after her dad instead. Turning the cheek and ignoring what was right in front of you to keep up the facade of normal. Her parent’s greatest fear was to be abnormal and (God forbid) it tarnish their carefully curated reputation of a perfect upper-middle class wholesome family. Reagan’s wet dream, honestly.

So even though Chrissy woke up the next morning feeling embarrassed and broken and totally called out, she could at least try not to look it.

It was like when Jason asked about her headaches (which was weird in itself as he rarely noticed little things like that) and her automatic response had been to give him a pretty smile and lie and say they were probably due to her ‘monthly troubles’ instead. Jason had chuckled at that and rolled his eyes, appropriately (because society said it was okay) abashed. “Well take it easy, babe,” he’d said, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek, his thoughts already turning to the big championship game coming up. “Have some candy or something.”

Because that’s what boyfriends did when you were unwell right? They’d buy flowers or chocolates or teddy bears with creepy stitched up mouths.

Chrissy hadn’t really thought about Jason much over the last few days but instead of feeling guilty or worried she felt sort of…fine? In the films and TV shows she liked to watch, girls in trouble always went to their boyfriends first for comfort, but the idea of calling Jason now was just something she didn’t want to do. Was that unfair? Nancy’s boyfriend Jonathon (who she vaguely remembered from photography class) knew everything that was going on with Vecna and the upside-down world. She even caught the cute little looks Lucas and Max exchanged when they thought no one was watching, and Nancy’s brother Mike Wheeler was linked to this superhero El. They all seemed fine and even bolstered by sharing this madness with one another.

She tried picturing Jason’s face if she told him about Vecna and nearly dying. Would he offer to come here and help Steve build up the defences? Show the freshmen how to shoot straight? Buy her candy? No, he’d probably get more angry at Eddie and the fact she was in his trailer, than her coming so close to having all her bones snapped and her eyes gouged out. He seemed so far removed from all this that she couldn’t fathom him beside her in this world of magic and hellfire.

Eddie’s reproachful words from last night kept ringing in her ears… ‘did you hear what he did to that kid two weeks ago? Their parents had to pick them up’.

She was so ashamed. That poor kid. She was ashamed too that Eddie knew she had no idea about it. Like he assumed Jason would hide it from her and she would just go on with her little (sparkly pink bubble) life. ‘You just don’t know’.

Well she knew now, and she would not be like her father and ignore it. She was resolved to try and make things right at school even if it brought on Jason’s ire. The idea of him picking on Dustin or Mike Wheeler or any of them made her chest feel tight.

Beep beep beep.

Chrissy managed to get maybe two hours of sleep when the alarm on Steve’s watch went off and she groaned at the sudden rude awakening. She pushed her face deeper into the pillow, away from the sunshine beaming in through a blind. She tried to ignore that the pillow smelled like the eucalyptus shampoo Eddie used. There was also the unmistakable smell of cigarettes and weed but instead of being turned off she found it unexpectedly comforting.

She felt Steve roll over and then there was a delicate pause.

“Uh…Hi… Chrissy?”

“Hi Steve,” she mumbled.

“Uh…there a reason you’re here and not Eddie? Not that I’m complaining, just a bit of a surprise first thing in the morning, is all.”

Steve was peering over his pillow at her, bleary eyed and yawning. His hair was sticking up in all different directions and the sleepy hand he ran through it only made it worse. He still seemed half asleep. Chrissy might have giggled if she didn’t feel like total crap.

“Couldn’t sleep so I took over the watch from Robin. Then Eddie came down and…well… he took over. Told me to come up here.”

“Alright.”

“Steve?”

“Mhmm?”

“I heard the ticking noise again last night. Nothing floaty happened, but I thought you should know just in case. I think Nancy’s right. I think…I think it happens when I’m feeling really sad about something.”

“Damn.” She heard him swallow. “So I guess we’ve got to keep you and Max happy then. Happy thoughts an’ all. What got you so down?”

“I…I had a chat with Eddie and we kind of argued. We both said some really shitty things.”

That was putting it mildly.

She sighed and it seemed to reverberate down to her toes. She felt like the mattress might swallow her up whole. She eyed Eddie’s bag in the corner of the bedroom and the Hellfire Club T-shirt he so treasured screwed up beside it. His heavy belt was there too and the chains he clipped to the side of his jeans when he was trying to lean into the scary freaky look.

“I think he hates me now.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about someone hating her. It was a new. Everyone at school seemed to like her a lot and she never got into arguments or drama. Maybe some of the other cheerleaders were a bit put off when she beat them for the captain spot but they didn’t say anything mean. Her parents didn’t exactly treat her nice but that wasn’t out of hate. They said it was out of love.

Steve’s voice noticeably softened. “Nah. He doesn’t hate you, Chrissy. Far from it. The guy’s just…I don’t know…”

“Hanging on by a thread?”

“Exactly, yeah. He’s got a lot going on in that fucked up head of his…and he was a nutcase before all of this too, you know? We’re all trying our best but…it’s hard. He likes you though. Trust me.”

Steve wouldn’t say that if he’d heard the way Eddie spoke to her last night…or this morning? Ugh. Or the way she spoke back to him. She tried not to linger on the awful expression on his face when she threw the words ‘hypocrite’ and ‘jealous’ at him like sharp darts. She’d meant every word - but she still felt bad. She wasn’t the kind of person to enjoy inflicting pain on others just because she was losing her mind, or punching down on someone who was already sinking.

“We bought coffee, right?” Steve yawned again as he sat up and stretched, wisely changing the subject. “I can’t function without at least two cups in the morning. And Henderson has really been dialling up his attitude recently. The little shit.”

Chrissy sat up too and only then fully appreciated what an awkward situation they were both in. She’d deliberately not slipped under the sheets when she came to bed so they weren’t exactly side by side but it was still weird. She got out from under her borrowed blanket and wobbled to her feet. Christ, her head was reeling from the lack of sleep and food. And weed, probably, even though she barely had half.

“I’m going to shower and I’ll make some. I think I spotted a coffee maker stashed in one of the cupboards.”

Steve hummed happily as Chrissy padded out the room barefoot. They had all agreed to keep the bedroom doors ajar last night so the person on guard duty could do their checks. Chrissy spotted a note tacked on their wood with what looked like gum.

Gone to get milk - E.

The idea of Eddie coming up here while she was asleep and seeing her side by side with Steve made her feel odd, even if he’d been the one to suggest it. Another thought to push way down and ignore.

She jumped in the shower before anyone else was up and washed and scrubbed her body thoroughly (who cared if her skin was pink and sore as a result?). She then scrubbed at her face and brushed her teeth. She applied her make up so well that you would never suspect she’d been awake all night crying over ticking and spiders and Eddie Munson telling her she was a sheep. She tossed her head side to side and smiled when the reflection met her approval. Once finished she towelled herself off and got dressed.

She hadn’t been able to stuff much into her cheer bag but dug out an (admittedly wrinkled) flowery summer dress that would still look okay if she smoothed it down with her fingers. The thin straps showed off her slim shoulders but the skirts hid her knees. She decided to leave her hair down to dry as she hadn’t brought a hairdryer (though Steve probably had an emergency one stashed beside his hairspray). She very rarely wore her hair down because Jason said he preferred in a ponytail or in plaits. It felt different. New. She used her fingers to fluff out her bangs.

Downstairs Dustin and Lucas were already awake and poking around the kitchen cupboards hopefully. Chrissy asked them to start up the coffee machine and found some breakfast stuff. By the time Robin and Steve came downstairs she was whisking pancake batter in one of Rick’s bowls. Robin said Max was still in the shower and Nancy was keeping an ear out.

“You’re an angel, Chrissy,” Robin added gratefully, plonking herself down at the table. Her wet hair was still wrapped up in a towel. “Do we have syrup?”

“No way. Chocolate chips are the way to go,” Dustin corrected, still in his pyjamas. He reminded Chrissy of her little brother when he was still nice and occasionally an ally against their parents.

Chrissy served up the pancakes as they debated the perfect pancake toppings. She never actually ate pancakes herself (far too many calories) but her grandma showed her how to do it when she was little and she could even do the perfect flip (naturally). While the others tucked into their food with thanks, she buttered some toast and nibbled it while leaning against the counter.

She suddenly thought about those creepy lifeless women on the covers of Good Housekeeping. All made up with stiff fake smiles and with hair that looked totally pristine. She probably looked like one of them now.

But no matter how pretty and composed she looked or how attentively she listened to Robin debate the virtues of pancakes versus crepes, Chrissy felt herself tense all over again when she heard the front door open. She turned at once to make herself a cup of coffee even though she hated it black. It would give her an excuse to do something with her hands besides wringing them together like a one dimensional damsel-in-distress character in their Dungeons and Dragons game (though Dustin, Lucas, and Eddie all seemed keen to them).

“Daddy’s back safe and sound, kids, despite the looming threat of annihilation and bogus wizards that make even Saruman the White look like a pansy. Miss me?”

“You get milk?” Steve asked bluntly.

“Yes dear. Got some more snacks too seeing as Lucas’ gone through like three bags of chips already.”

“Thanks man,” Lucas said, relieved.

“I grabbed some gas too if you guys still want to hit up the War Zone?” Eddie added. “There’s plenty of room in the back of the van for guns, grenades, nunchucks…Could probably smuggle in some rocket launchers too.”

“Flame throwers,” Nancy corrected him, walking into the kitchen.

Chrissy didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know everyone was glancing at Nancy with a fair amount of respect (maybe a smidge of fear too).

Hands wearing heavy silver rings placed shopping bags down onto the countertop beside her. A carton of milk appeared by the coffee pot but she ignored it stubbornly as she filled her mug to the brim. It took all her resolve not to shudder when the bitter liquid touched her tongue. Ew.

“Can I grab a cup, ‘Rissy?” Nancy asked.

‘Rissy? She liked that. “Sure, Nance.”

Chrissy turned to see Nancy (followed by a clean and dressed Max) joining the others at the table. Eddie remained standing though as he slowly unpacked food into the cupboards.

Like her, he looked completely composed. He was wearing his usual ripped jeans but instead of a rock shirt he’d pulled on the black and red flannel that usually adorned his waist. Other than that though, the same Eddie; creepy rings that no store in Hawkins would surely sell, guitar pick around the neck, the now-familiar bat tattoo on his elbow (his sweet ol’ tatties, she remembered him saying). The only subtle tells that something may be amiss were the faint purple circles beneath his otherwise warm brown eyes and the fact he needed a shave (but saying that so did Steve).

Eddie was putting away chips and soda and laughing at something Robin said. He even responded with a joke of his own in that flirty tone he seemed so comfortable using. Totally at ease. Totally in control. But it can’t be real, Chrissy thought, not after what he said this morning. He must be running on fumes.

Which meant he had an excellent poker face. It almost rivalled her own. The others would observe them going out for milk, making breakfast, helping. Both of them seemingly fine. Christ, they could be her parents.

Chrissy forced her shoulders to relax and flashed a blinding smile. When she spoke she made sure her voice was peppy and cheerful like she was getting ready for a cheer rally. Looking at her now you’d think she was running for the 1986 Miss America title and not miserable and sad and so fucking tired. Aren’t you proud of me, mom?

“Want some pancakes too, Nance? Max?” she asked. “And you? How do you take your coffee, Munson?”

He almost - almost - cracked at that but caught himself just in time. She was nearly impressed.

“I can make it myself thanks,” he was all he said.

–

They were indeed still going to the War Zone today. It was Nancy’s idea originally after spotting an advert in the paper but Eddie seemed to know about it too. It was about a two hour drive away and sounded like a Republican paradise. It would definitely have all the weapons and tools they needed until El and the others got there and they could regroup. Steve offered to drive but Eddie shut him down real quick. Only he drove his van, he explained. It wouldn’t run for anyone else.

“Some of us should stay to guard this place,” Robin pointed out. “I don’t mind. I’m still sleepy from last night.”

Max and Lucas were quick to bow out too. Nancy was going to stay as well as she wanted to phone Jonathon again and check on his progress. Chrissy noticed her fingers twitching when she said this but didn’t make a deal of it. Nancy rarely spoke about Jonathon so maybe there was something not quite right there (though who was she to talk? Jason who?). She felt herself getting closer to Nancy every day but she still wasn’t sure they were in the boy-chat territory. Guns? End of the world? Sure. Heartbreak though? She felt herself growing closer to Robin too but there was something…different…about Robin she couldn’t quite place. It was like she belonged in a different era - one in the future maybe where they used flying cars and everyone was cool like her. She’d assumed at first she was Steve’s girlfriend but after only a millisecond it became abundantly clear they were just best of friends.

Maybe one day after saving the world (they could do it) she and Nancy and Robin could crack out some wine coolers and discuss all the wonderful highs and tragic lows of being a teenage girl. Maybe even Max could join in. She’d like that a lot.

So it was Eddie, Dustin, and Steve who got ready for the War Zone and then to everyone’s surprise Chrissy said she wanted to go too. She hurriedly retrieved her purse and opened it wide so they could see the large amount of cash wedged inside.

“Woah!”

“Did you rob a bank?” Max said, eyeing her curiously, and Chrissy laughed.

“It’s just my savings and what I could find in my dad’s office. Don’t worry, he’ll never notice it missing. He’s always leaving cash around the house. I brought some of my gold jewellery too in case we need to pawn it…though someone will have to help me. I’m not exactly sure how to pawn things,” she admitted. The words sounded unbelievably odd on her tongue. “I never wear any of it so I don’t mind. I only wear this one…” She gently flicked a nail against the ‘86’ at her neck.

“We can’t accept your savings, Chrissy! You’ll need it for college, right?” Nancy pointed out.

“Don’t worry, I have a separate college fund which is under lock and key. My dad won’t let me touch it until after I graduate. It’s his guarantee that…well, that I don’t drop out and do something to embarrass the family,” she said. “Please. I know you guys have all chipped in here and there and I wanna help too. Use this money to buy the…weapons…and food and things.”

“That’s really generous honestly but really we can manage if we stretch our money together. I think we’ll be okay if we’re careful.”

“But I don’t want you guys to be just okay. You’re so brave by doing all this - the least I can do is make sure money isn’t an issue, you know? This is something I can actually contribute to the group. Please just use it.”

She looked imploringly at Steve then. Steve came from a similar background to her own and must surely get it. Chrissy didn’t need this money and likely never would whereas she knew some of the others came from humble backgrounds and it just wasn’t fair. She found speaking about all of this uncomfortable - Jason and her other friends were just as privileged as her and her mom would rather die than discuss something as tacky as money - but Chrissy held fast because this gesture would alleviate some of the pressure from the others. It was her way of pulling her weight.

“And…” she added brightly, smiling. “It would really annoy my mom if she ever knew and that thought makes me seriously happy. That’s got to be worth it, right?”

Steve laughed and she knew she’d won. “Alright, thanks Chriss. We’ll use the money today. Keep your jewellery though…we’ll only pawn that as a last resort, kay?”

Chrissy thought she saw a flash of relief cross both Steve and Nancy’s faces (they must have been worrying about this too) before they turned away and that made up for any embarrassment.

Thankfully Dustin called shotgun in the van and the conversation shifted to a debate about what radio station to listen to. Chrissy collected her things - she borrowed a pair of Rick’s aviator sunglasses too as it was sunny (she hoped he wouldn’t mind) - and made to follow the others outside.

But a touch to her elbow made her hesitate and Max was there looking awkward. “…I know we haven’t really spoken much before but I just wanted to say… that you do contribute to the group. Maybe you don’t feel that way, but it’s…nice…having you here.” Every nice word seemed to pain her but she held herself steady. She had a kind of intensity in her eyes which would surely make grown men tremble.

She could be a governor or a DA, Chrissy thought, speechless. She finally choked out, “Thanks for saying that Max.”

“Yeah whatever. Bring me back some peanut butter, ok? Smooth. I like that best on my pancakes.”

Evidently dismissed, Chrissy jumped up onto the passenger seat beside Steve and Eddie started the engine. Eddie was the one to pick the music (“my van - my rules, Henderson”) and fiddled with the radio until some loud rock blasted out from the speakers. A few minutes later they were driving along the lake towards town.

End of passion play, crumbling away

I'm your source of self-destruction

Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear

Leading on your death's construction

Chrissy folded down the skirt of her summer dress so it lay neat against her thigh and settled back on the leather seat, doing her very best not to look ahead at the driver. She tried to ignore Dustin babbling about making improvised weapons, or Steve complaining about the volume, or the thought of a certain pair of eyes watching her in the mirror. Instead she slipped on the too-big sunglasses, pulled out a shitty Capitalist magazine from her bag, and unfurled it resolutely. She would read it word to word like it was a textbook for class. No matter what anyone else thought.

“Woah, what happened to your hand?” Dustin was saying. That did draw her attention.

“Girls dig bruised knuckles, man, what can I say? They love that dangerous vigilante look. I caught it in the van door earlier, Henderson, I’m alright. It’s no biggie.”

Did she imagine it or did Steve glance her way? She looked back at her magazine pointedly.

Taste me, you will see

More is all you need

Dedicated to

How I'm killing you

“This music is killing me,” Steve grumbled.

“It’s not so bad.” It wasn’t Chrissy’s style of music either but she liked the lyrics. “I think the band’s called metal something.”

“Metallica,” Eddie corrected without looking round.

She thought about the other time she’d taken a ride in Eddie’s van before her vision of Vecna. She’d met him in the car park after the championship game (ears still ringing from the cheers) so he could drive her back to his trailer for something stronger. He’d surprised her by holding the passenger door open like a gentleman from those old black and white movies. He’d even offered to let her pick the music though now it was his van, his rules. She’d been too nervous to suggest anything though. She remembered that whole journey being very very aware of just how bare her legs looked in her short cheerleading skirt.

It was getting hot so she tried unrolling the window but the handle seemed to be busted. Eddie must have noticed because his window was suddenly down and a burst of cool air snaked around her shoulders and made her sigh.

The War Zone was exactly as Nancy and Eddie described. Everything was made from lumber and it smelled strongly of polish and pine and oil. Testosterone in a bottle. There were rows and rows of clothing displays - hunting jackets, cargo pants, heavy work boots - as well as all the hunting and fishing equipment you could ever need. Behind the (again wooden) counters the guns and knives were locked away side by side in glass cabinets, and she thought they looked intimidating and scary.

They let Steve take the lead inside. He seemed in his element and casually reeled off all the things they would need. He asked her and Dustin to go pick out some of the heavy duty coats and boots so Chrissy found herself ambling down the aisles with a heavily laden basket. She picked out a few things she thought might be helpful. She almost kissed Dustin on the cheek when he spotted a padded jacket he thought she might like (“There’s no pink, but it’s got little dots like your dress?”). It was so unbelievably cute that she thanked him and put it straight into the basket. They actually started having some fun picking bits out together (Dustin was going full Rambo with his own choices) - and inevitably their laughter started to draw stares.

Not at Dustin though. At her.

There were a few men openly staring at her now and she tried to ignore it like she always did when she drew unwanted attention. “Thank the heavens for that summer dress,” a man nearby drawled. He looked about the same age as her father. Maybe even older. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing here?”

She could hear Robin’s voice in her mind saying ‘buying a deadly weapon, dipshit, what’s it look like?’

Chrissy remained silent though. She knew that if she responded it would encourage them. It was a lesson that had been drummed into her ever since middle school. Don’t respond. Don’t be a tease. Don’t lead them on. Another voice behind her piped up. “Want a date, honey? Ditch the kid and come back to my van, eh? We can have ourselves a little party.”

Dustin looked angry but was clearly out of his element and unsure how to best handle this sort of thing. “Let’s go back to Steve and Eddie, Chrissy. We’ve got enough stuff,” he said instead. His trust in the older guys seemed unshakeable.

“Sure thing, Dustin. Everything’s cool, okay? Just ignore them.”

They walked back over to the counter and waited. Steve was signing some paperwork and had four guns lined up on the counter in front of them. Chrissy stood as close to Steve’s side as she could and hoped that maybe those men would assume he was her boyfriend and leave her alone. They certainly looked like they could be a couple with their preppy clothes and looks.

She saw Dustin whispering something into Eddie’s ear just as someone said loudly, “Want to come hold my gun, babe? I’ll let you polish it. Might even go off.” His friends seemed to think this was real funny because they began cracking up.

Steve and Eddie heard that. She felt herself blush. “Sorry about this. Don’t worry, they’ll wind down in a little bit. Let’s just finish up and go…”

“You can polish both our guns at the same time!”

“Shit,” Steve muttered. He was flushed too and she felt awful. “Sorry, Chriss. Just paying now. Won’t be long…Hey, can we speed this up please?”

She pressed closer to his side. Chrissy had this trick during times like this where she would try and physically make herself very small as a way of trying to hide. Her shoulders were already turning inwards and she crossed her arms over her chest. She tried to focus on what Steve was saying to the cashier but it was drowned out by a roaring noise in her ears. She wished Dustin would stop whispering to Eddie. She wished they would stop looking at her.

But then someone brushed up close against her back. She felt a lingering hand on her hip. Her ass. She couldn’t stop herself from squeezing her eyes shut and grimacing.

Here would be the part where someone should step in or where Chrissy finally told this jerk to get the fuck away from her (maybe even a tall body shielding her with his own, a gentle hand guiding her away) but this was 80’s Indiana and that shit didn’t happen just yet. The ideas of what to do when your customer or friend was being fucking manhandled in public just weren’t invented yet - and she could see her friends were pissed off but they hung back because they didn’t have the fucking right to get involved, you know? They weren’t her boyfriends or father or brother, they weren’t her. If she asked them to punch this guy's lights out they would in a heartbeat (and Eddie and Steve looked like they were gunning for it) but she didn’t. Chrissy just clenched her jaw and took it.

They paid and left, and as soon as she slid onto the backseat she pushed on Rick’s sunglasses and stared out the window. She could feel the guys glancing at her (worried, angry, guilty) but they were following her lead and giving her some space. They made it a few miles before Steve reached out and turned the heavy rock music back on.

“Did that asshole hurt you, Chrissy?” Dustin said at last and because it was Dustin she answered honestly.

“No. He just touched my leg and my…” She shuddered at the memory and seemed to shrink even further back into the seat. “I’m sorry you had to see it. I swear I didn’t say a word to any of them or smile or even look at them. I didn’t…”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She could have told him about the lecture she got at church when one of the pastors touched her leg because she wore a dress that was one inch too short, but Dustin didn’t need to know about any of that crap. He was just a kid. “I should have just stayed in the car,” she sighed.

“It’s just not…fair. You can’t just not exist, you know? I don’t know…it’s messed up.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He paused for such a long time that Chrissy thought he was done, but then he turned around properly and peered through the seats at her. “Chrissy? I’m sorry I didn’t…you know, defend you when that first creep said something. I didn’t know what to do and kind of freaked. Next time I’ll be better, though, I promise. I’ll look after you.”

So this time Chrissy did lean forwards and press a kiss to his cheek. Dustin turned an alarming shade of red but he smiled. “You were perfect, Dustin. I promise. Never change, little guy, okay?”

She felt tears spring to her eyes so once again turned her head to the window.

She didn’t notice Eddie pat Dustin on the shoulder. Or Steve messing up his hair.

When they got back to Rick’s it was way past lunchtime but Nancy had left them some cheese sandwiches in the fridge. Chrissy took hers outside to eat in the back garden, along with a book she borrowed from Dustin. “Keep the door open though, yeah?” Steve had called. She promised she would.

She dragged one of the wooden chairs from the circle towards the dock in what she considered was a perfect spot by the lake edge. Here she would be able to enjoy the last of the day’s sunshine and hear the gentle flow of the river in peace. She’d even borrowed one of Rick’s floppy fishing hats so the sun wouldn’t burn her nose again (poor Rick - she might as well try on his boots next). She’d thought about sitting in this spot last night - this morning - when she was out here sharing that joint with Eddie and thought it would be such a sweet place to relax and unwind. It was so quiet here.

It was quiet back in the house too. Nancy and Robin were spending the afternoon researching the Creel family in the library archives and had taken Steve’s car. The others seemed happy enough to admire their new cache of weapons and gear and Steve was trying to get the TV to work so he could watch a sports game.

There wasn’t much for Chrissy to do this afternoon except to stay quiet and not draw any more trouble.

She could still feel those prickling eyes on her face and body and hear those vile comments at the War Zone. The laughter. They’d found it funny to make her uncomfortable and humiliate her. Like it was a game. And why hadn’t she spoken up? Why not answer like Robin or Max or Nancy might have? No, she’d just tried to ignore it and wait it out like a storm. Hadn’t she already made the decision not to end up like her parents? To challenge Jason? To stand up, to say something, to shout and make some fucking noise. She was off to a crap start.

Christ, she was so weak. She couldn’t even go to a store with her friends without stirring up some kind of mess. She thought about Dustin’s helplessness when it first started to happen and Steve’s sympathetic (pitying, her dad’s voice corrected) smiles in the car after. She’d upset Eddie again. She should have just stayed in the damn car.

She couldn’t focus on the book in her hands or even the sunshine. Everything suddenly felt so cold and dark. She hurled her sandwich into the lake.

She made a noise that sounded like a whimper. Fuck fuck fuck.

And just as she fell to her lowest - it happened.

It started with a dark shape emerging beneath the surface of the lake. It was big - maybe the same size as a person - and way too big to be an eel or a fish. Maybe it was a body? Chrissy was suddenly standing and she peered over the edge and saw it was starting to move towards her. She stepped back (not noticing that the chair was no longer behind her). She began rubbing her eyes. She’d heard about people cracking up from stress and exhaustion. Maybe it was finally her time?

But then the ticking started and it filled her belly with an icy cold horror. Tick. Tick. Tick.

She suddenly knew that whatever that thing in the water was, it was not something good and it was going to hurt her. She did not want that thing to come any closer!

But it did. The top of its head broke the surface and she saw grey slimy flesh…

“No…” she moaned. “You’re not real. This isn’t real.”

Like a nightmare, Vecna’s face emerged inch by inch as he drew closer. His black lifeless eyes were staring at her and when she flinched back, he smiled. His teeth (black and sharp like fangs) twisted into a terrifying grin. “Chrissy…” he seemed to sing her name like it was a verse or a melody. “It’s time Chrissy.”

Chrissy shook her head as she took another step away from the water’s edge. She turned to run back to the house (to her friends and safety) but it was no longer daytime. Dark smoke caged her senses and the grass beneath her bare feet turned now to ash and soot. The smoke flooded her nose and mouth and she gagged on it. The sickening taste of death clawed at her throat making her eyes water.

“You’ve been so clever trying to run away from me, Chrissy, but you knew I’d come back to claim you. You always knew, didn’t you? In the back of your mind. You knew that we needed each other. Poor Chrissy. You’re so tired, aren’t you? So exhausted. Let me help you…”

She couldn’t see the house or the dock or anything. Everything was so dark.

“You don’t want to help me,” she cried. “You want to murder me.”

“No. I want to help you become something bigger than yourself. Something incredible and exciting. Chrissy…come to me. You’re so good at doing exactly what you’re told. Come to me now.”

He was rising out of the water and then - as sudden as a blink - he was standing before her, tall and threatening. She stumbled back against something hard and knew she could not run away. She felt her legs buckle beneath her and she fell to her knees.

She was crying. She was terrified. “I don’t want to die. Please. I don’t want to die.”

“Can you really call your miserable little existence living?” he asked cruelly. He bowed and curled one of his long fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look up at him. “You who are utterly without love. Not even for yourself. It is kinder to put you out of this misery, Chrissy. Believe me, you know that there’s nothing in this world for you. It won’t make the slightest bit of difference if you are alive or dead.”

His words seemed to pierce her heart like ice. Was he right?

“You have a weapon - a gun - hidden upstairs. You’ve kept it so secret and safe but why do you have it, really? You and I both know why. You know that there will come a day when you finally snap and you want it all to end..”

“Oh god…”

She couldn’t look away from his piercing eyes. He was cradling her face now and scratched his claws down her cheeks, tearing at her flesh. She felt no pain though. She was completely in his thrall.

“Come with me….”

“I…”

Chrissy!

Someone was screaming her name, but no that was impossible. It was just her and Vecna and Vecna was going to murder her.

But then there was music. Such loud ringing music that it seemed to shake the foundations of the world around her and flood it with a bright gold light. Its sparks gathered by the red vines twisted around her limbs (when had that happened) and seemed to rip them away.

We are young

Heartache to heartache

We stand

No promises, no demands

Love is a battlefield

She remembered the first time she heard this song. One of her friends played it during cheer drills and they laughed themselves silly dancing along to it. She’d bought a tape herself and listened to it secretly at home using her headphones.

We are strong

No one can tell us we're wrong

Searching our hearts for so long

And then she saw a swirling white light just behind Vecna. At the edge of the lake. Just like when Eddie saved her last time.

Chrissy! That was Eddie’s voice calling her name. That sounded better than any cheering crowd, any morning birdsong, any fucking power ballad.

She knew what she needed to do if she wanted to fight this but she didn’t know if she had the strength. Then she thought about Max telling her she belonged in the group. She thought about Nancy who was brilliant and badass and kept guns under her bed, and Lucas who was an athlete but also a total nerd. She thought about Steve who was a fucking hero and Robin who might be a timetraveller and who she wanted drink wine coolers with. She thought about Dustin who promised he’d fight for her even when he was scared. She thought about Eddie and the way he made her laugh in the woods and how he was hanging on by a fucking thread now because of Vecna. She owed it to Eddie to fight this.

Vecna suddenly became those rednecks back at the War Zone with their creepy entitled eyes. He became her mom. Her dad. He became Jason and the way he and the team bullied the freshmen kids. He was a fucking asshole.

She got to her feet with a whimper.

Both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield

Chrissy!

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

She screamed and kicked Vecna right in the chest. All those years of cheerleading drills had made the muscles in her legs strong and the strength of that kick was just enough to surprise Vecna and give her a split second advantage. She ran towards the white light.

She jumped.

–

And then she was underwater. She was being pulled down to the bottom of the lake and her lungs were empty and she was screaming but she had no voice.

She couldn’t believe that this might be the end after all. Not when she’d jumped into that bright white light wanting to live and come home.

But then hands were grasping hold of her and pulling her away from the darkness and up towards the surface. More hands dragged her out of the water and she sank, shivering and cold, onto the grass of the riverbank. She felt warm lips against her mouth and then she was choking and then she tasted gloriously sweet air. She gulped it down greedily and let it fill her lungs. The world seemed to clear and settle around her.

It took a moment for her senses to catch up but when they finally did she could feel everything. She could hear someone crying and people shouting in hurried frantic voices. She could feel the way her lungs ached as her chest rose and fell. She could smell the coppery tang of blood.

Her dress was clinging to her body like a second skin and she felt so achingly cold but she was alive. That was all that mattered.

She opened her eyes and Eddie’s face was all she saw. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands still gripping her wrists, and he had tears running down his cheeks. He was soaking wet too. Chrissy raised a thumb and wiped at his cheek gently.

“Are you here, Chrissy?” he was asking over and over. “Are you back with me?”

“I’m here. Eddie, I’m here.”

He crushed her to his chest and she let him. Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she let her own tears come and she wept and wept. She let out every single tear and drop of fear into Eddie’s strong shoulder. His arms were tight around her back but she wanted the weight. It made her feel held.

She might have cried for hours (it wouldn’t have mattered).

“Eddie? I need to look at her cheeks, man.”

Her cheek? She felt Eddie release her slowly and then Steve (also wet and shivering) was there inspecting her face. He was trying hard to keep calm so he could focus on whatever it was he was doing, but when she caught his eye he broke into a proud grin. “Hi Chrissy. Welcome back to Earth.”

“I can smell blood. Is it mine?” It was easier to breathe now. The smoke and ash and water were no longer in her lungs and throat.

“You were floating in the air above the water,” it was Max speaking now. Chrissy’s gaze came to rest over Eddie’s shoulder and she saw Max and Lucas watching her closely. Max’s face was as white as a ghost. Dustin was kneeling at their side beaming though. All of these wonderful human beings who she had heard in her vision. Who brought her back. “And then your cheeks just slashed open. Like you were scratched either side by invisible claws. Was it Vecna?”

“Yeah. I think so. I remember…he came out of the lake,” she murmured. She glanced back at the lake now and saw that it was still and calm. It looked beautiful again. “I knew I was having a vision but couldn’t stop it.”

Steve cleaned her up while she told them everything that happened.

“...Then I heard my name…and I heard music…my favourite song. It made a bright light appear. As soon as I saw that I knew it was my way home.”

“It was Eddie’s idea!” Dustin said proudly. “He saw you from the window and grabbed Max’s walkman. He managed to cram the headphones over your ears just before you started floating up…but I guess it’s in the lake now though.”

“I’m just glad I had Pat Bentar on there,” Max mumbled.

Chrissy didn’t want to think about ‘what if’s’ right now. Instead she looked back at Eddie. His hands were still holding her waist. “How did you know that was my favourite? You’ve never asked.”

“Didn’t need to. You humm it sometimes.”

Chrissy smiled. She began to cry.

She let Steve finish cleaning her wounds while Lucas grabbed them all warm blankets. Steve told her she had two large jagged scratches on either side of her face, running from the tips of her lips all the way to her eyes. “They aren’t deep enough to need stitches but I’ll get you something for the pain. I don’t think they’ll scar…”

Chrissy found she didn’t care. She might’ve once. She was just thankful Vecna missed her eyes.

“I can't believe you kicked Vecna,” Dustin was saying. “That’s so fucking cool.”

“Very metal,” Eddie agreed quietly.

Eddie was still watching her closely. It was like he didn’t quite believe it was over and she wouldn’t start floating away again. She watched as two faint red patches started forming on his cheeks. It was like he was just now realising how close they were.

“I need to sit down. Can I…?”

Steve immediately suggested she go upstairs to lay down on the bed but instead she asked them to help her back into the wooden chair she’d positioned so carefully before her vision. She wanted to stay outside and sit in the last remnants of the day’s sunshine. The sun would be starting to set soon and she wanted most of all in the world to sit out here on Rick’s dock and watch it. Like he did. She didn’t want to give Vecna the satisfaction of sending her to bed and having her miss out on something she damn wanted. “Can I have some alone time?” she asked. “I just want to…sit here.”

“I don’t think you should be left alone…” Max started but Eddie spoke up.

“I’ll stay,” he said quietly.

The others went back inside (though Steve brought her out the much-appreciated pain medication). Her hands were trembling too badly to take it alone so he helped her. She thanked him gratefully.

“You’re one of the team now,” he said. “We look after our own. Eddie, bring her in if she starts turning blue, okay? Doc’s orders.”

Chrissy sighed and she lay back in the chair. Her mind was swimming with Vecna and his soft velvety voice. He’d said he wanted her purposefully because she needed him to end her long drawn-out suffering. The most tragic and clever thing, she realised, was that his words had been sprinkled with seeds of truth. She was everything he’d said. He’d looked into her heart and only held up the cracked mirror.

Chrissy was sad. She’d been sad for a long time. But did she really not want to be here anymore? Chrissy looked out towards the lake. The blue sky was gradually fading into pink.

“Eddie?” she said softly.

“I’m here.”

“Will you sit with me?”

She heard the sound of scraping wood as Eddie pulled over one of the chairs next to hers on the dock. He even readjusted the blanket around her shoulders before sitting down even though she was capable of doing it alone. It was just her face (and heart) that ached.

They stared at one another, sizing each other up almost. She noticed for the first time that his eyes weren’t entirely brown. They had little flecks of gold in them too. She’d never thought of Eddie as pretty before but she did now.

“So you jumped in the lake for me?”

“Didn’t even hesitate,” Eddie chuckled. “You can thank Steve for the lip service though. He just loves to be the hero and save the girl.”

Chrissy was so tired but she didn’t dare close her eyes in case she fell asleep. She was happy sitting here on the dock with Eddie. She lifted her feet and curled them up beneath the blanket.

“I thought I was a goner. Again. I almost gave up,” she said. “I know that’s such a pathetic thing to admit but when Vecna told me about wanting to put me out of my misery, a tiny part of me wanted to believe him. He knew about me being unhappy and sad all the time. Knew that I was shutting down inside, you know? He told me it wouldn’t make any difference to the world if I was alive or dead and I let myself believe him. Does that make me stupid?”

She saw Eddie swallow. “Look, I’m not gunna’ sit here and pretend to know what your life is like because I was dead wrong before. I know now it’s been… tough… and that asshole Vecna used that to try and manipulate you. But, Chrissy, it didn’t work. You chose to come back and you kicked him like some cheerleader warrior. It probably won’t mean much, but I’m fucking proud of you, kid.”

Chrissy smiled despite herself. “As I live and breathe, scary Eddie Munson acknowledging cheerleaders might not just be some dumb stereotype. You’ve dropped Cunningham too. It sounds nice.”

“No turning back now. It felt like such a trip when you called me Munson during breakfast. Even if I totally deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, I did. I was a complete asshole. Chrissy, look, I know you’ve been through a lot today and the kindest thing would be to leave you alone, but can you stay awake just a little longer to hear my shitty apology? After that I’ll give you some space or carry you up to bed or…whatever you want.”

“You don’t need to -”

“I do. Please. I need to apologise for everything. For the way I’ve been avoiding you and for every fucking crappy thing I said to you this morning. I would take it all back in a heartbeat because every word was total bullshit, Chrissy. I didn’t mean any of it. I was so angry and scared and worried and pathetic… and you were right when you called me out on it because I was taking it out on you.”

“But why me? Because I ran away?”

“No, Chrissy, please listen…” He moved his chair so close that his leg brushed against her knee. “It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do, okay? You’ve been so fucking spectacular. The way you’ve been caring for everyone and helping out. It’s just…in my fucked up brain…every time I look at you I think of that Fred kid - but I see you like that and it just breaks me. Every time you flinch at the name Vecna or touch your jaw I die a little bit inside. I feel so guilty and scared that it could have so easily have been you. I still can’t believe tonight…seeing you floating like that above the water and seeing the blood when that fucker cut into your face…God, if Max hadn't had that stupid song on her walkman... Chrissy, I can’t deal with the thought of…you dying.”

Eddie had closed his eyes but when Chrissy lightly touched the back of his hand they flew open.

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m alright. Look at my neck. My wrists. My jaw. I’m not broken. Look at my eyes. I’m here.”

She shrugged down her warm blanket and held out her arms, bared her neck, lifted her chin. She let him trace his fingers along her skin, reassuring himself that yes she was smooth. She was whole. His eyes searched her greedily. She might have found the idea of letting Eddie Munson do this to her odd once but now it only made her feel safe.

Then his eyes came to rest on her face, on the deep scratches. “Steve’s done a good job and I don’t think they’ll leave any punk scars. We’ll have to think of an excuse for your folks though…and Jason. If I’d only put that music on sooner…”

“The important thing is you did. It was quick thinking.”

She let him trace his fingers over her face too. She could see it helped clear away some of the tightness on his face.

“When I looked out the window and saw you go still…I’ve never felt so fucking scared, Chriss. And the last time in my trailer? I was so freaked out I nearly ran out of there myself. I thought I was used to horror and gore and monsters, but that was all pretend before. I don’t know jack shit about any of this or how I can help, and maybe I’m a coward but I think that just added to whatever sizable chip I’ve got growing on my shoulder right now. When I saw you again at the Wheeler’s you thanked me, Chrissy, and kept looking at me like I was some hero like Steve and I knew I wasn’t. You’re still looking at me like it even now…it’s like, what the fuck can I do?”

“But Eddie, don’t you remember that Twain quote in English class? About courage being resistance to fear? We had a test about him.”

“You know I’m failing English, Chrissy.”

“Well that’s what he said. The fact is you’ve saved me three times now. Twice from Vecna and once from drowning, and you’ve been scared the whole time. I think that’s pretty courageous,” she added with a small smile. “So I do get to call you a hero. That’s my prerogative as the crappy damsel.”

Eddie’s lips twitched into a smile and it looked like he was blushing.

“Well maybe I’m okay when Vecna comes calling… but I was too much of a coward to face you though. To give you what you wanted. What you needed…”

“What do you mean?”

They were both still soaking wet although the blankets and sun were doing their damn best to dry them off. But when Eddie reached out and took her hand she felt like it was a summer day in July. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“By my count, we’ve shared two fucking terrifying moments together but instead of…I don’t know, bonding over it? Helping each other out?...I’ve been pushing you away like an asshole. I don’t know a damn about psychology or trauma or whatever…but what I do know is talking to you about it now feels really good. Like some of my damage has mended and I can breathe a little easier. That’s got to be a good thing, right?” he said. “So let me finally step up and be here for you. I want to. I want to hear everything that’s going on with you. No frills. No bullshit... Lay it on me, Chrissy. Please.”

Chrissy met his eyes and saw such honest sincerity and warmth there she thought she might start crying again. He was putting down his shield and offering her his friendship and she wanted to take it so badly.

This wasn’t an olive branch or a sledgehammer - this was a flamethrower - and they would burn the metaphoric wall down to the ground. Together.

So Chrissy told him everything. She told him about her life before her visions - about cheerleading and her shitty parents and her miserable anxieties about food. She told him about Jason and how she was pretty sure she was going to break up with him because she hated bullies and didn’t want babies and a house and to be ignored for the rest of her life. She even told him about the incident at church and how it made her hate her body but at the same time she wanted to buy fucking silk pajamas too because she knew they would feel nice. She told him about college and how she wanted to take a year off and see some of the world. She was sure she’d love California and Rome and maybe even England so she could visit some real life castles.

She told him about her first vision and why she’d come to him for drugs and about how crap she still felt about running away from him. She told him about this vision. About how Vecna made her feel so worthless and weak. She told him about the gun she had upstairs (this was the only time he interrupted her to say gently they would get it later and store it with the other weapons so it was safe). She told him about how much she liked her new friends and how thinking about them helped her find the strength to get away from Vecna.

Eddie listened to it all and seemed to be drinking it in. With every word she felt a coil inside her begin to unwind a little. It was just like he said before about feeling mended. Like he was switching her up.

“...And I thought about you,” Chrissy admitted at long last. “How I owed it to you to come back and be here for you. I didn’t want to leave you alone again.”

Eddie had tears in his eyes and so did she.

“You weren’t totally wrong about me this morning. I have been ignoring some of the crap that goes on at school,” she admitted. He looked like he wanted to interrupt but she kept going. “I didn’t know how rough things were for you guys, but that’s no excuse now. I promise I’ll help from now on. No one should be treated that way.”

“Chrissy Cunningham, defender of the downtrodden misfits and freaks. Atta’ girl,” Eddie smiled. “But you don’t deserve to be treated that way either, you know? Not to be a dick again, I swear, but you kind of let people walk over you sometimes and you seriously don’t deserve it. You’re so cool and smart and really talented. You…you’re the real deal. You should own it.”

“…I’ll try.”

Loving oneselves was not easy and Chrissy had spent years putting herself down, but she knew Eddie was right and she should exercise more self-love like Ms Kelley said. She should try, at least. Baby steps.

Behind them the sun was setting behind the trees and the sky was a colour palette of pink, yellow, and orange hues. She lay back against her chair and she let her eyes flutter close for just a minute. She could almost purr she felt so content right now.

“The next day at the hour of sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair…”

“Is that from…?” Chrissy clumsily scooped up Dustin’s book from where she must have dropped it before her vision. On seeing the cover, Eddie grinned and she found herself grinning back just as wide, though she didn’t know why they were both so happy. Eddie took it from her gently, seeing that she was at risk of dropping it again in her tiredness.

“Same author but different book. If you like The Hobbit you can borrow my copy of Rings after. I promise you’ll love it. That’s a Munson guarantee.”

“I’d really like that, Eddie.”

“And I’ll try and read Little Women…are they actually tiny women or…?”

Chrissy found herself giggling softly. “Maybe we can talk about them together? Start our own private ‘End of the World’ book club. I’d like to hear more about D&D too and what it all means. Maybe even watch a game sometime…if that’s okay?”

“It’s a deal.”

Chrissy found her eyes once again closing and she yawned. She thought she could sleep for a thousand years. She snuggled down further into her blanket.

“Sleep Chrissy. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

She liked the sound of that. Her friends. Nancy and Robin would be home soon too.

“Eddie?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Mm?”

“So you really don’t hate me?”

“No way. Not possible.”

“Can we…can we be friends? I’d really like to be your friend.”

There was a little pause and she just about heard him clear his throat.

“Best of friends, Chriss. Best buddies.”

And her heart sang.

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

A/N:

Annnnnnd we're done folks. Chrissy and Eddie can now look to the future and kick some Vecna butt as team mates (the best team mates). A few notes:

- Firstly, thank you so much for reading this crazy mess. I promise to go back at some point and edit and cut that word count down - but I'm already up to my eyeballs with others ideas for the two (maybe taking place in the same series as this one?) - I wanted to leave it as them friends but it's pretty clear they are going to be something more, you know? Plenty of hints scattered in that Eddie is crazy about Chrissy and she's starting to notice him too. - Eddie IS crazy about Chrissy throughout this fic though he might not feel like he can show it (she has Jason remember and as far as Eddie knows they're a couple couple until she admits it at the end). He's not treading on any toes. - Lyrics are from 'Master of Puppets' and 'Love Is a Battlefield'. I saw an interview where Chrissy's actor mentions this would be the song to pull Chrissy out. - Yeah the men at the War Zone suck balls, but it's something we read about every day right? I'd like to say things are better but fuck that. Make noise, people. I actually wrote Eddie stepping in and guiding her out initially (with Chrissy under his arm naturally) but it just didn't feel right. You can bet that both he and Steve wanted to kick ass though and Eddie was gritting his fucking teeth. - I love Dustin and Chrissy moments. I also love Steve and Chrissy moments. - Yeah sorry Steve gave her mouth to mouth because he actually knows what he's doing - being a lifeguard and all - but Eddie was first in the water. Steve helped pull her out. - The Rings quote Eddie says '...The next day at the hour of sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair…” is about a sunset, yes, but also before Aragon meets the love of his fucking life and thinks he's stumbled into a dream. Nice work, Eddie, lay those seeds.

Love to you all - Hellcheer forever.

#chrissy x eddie #hellcheer #eddie munson #edssy #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy deserved better #ymaohoh #chrissy and eddie #fuck you vecna

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