themagenamedsage

[themagenamedsage]

Nothing Else Matters (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: Season 4 Spoilers, Heavy Angsty, Explicit Language, References to Major Character Death, Reader’s Morals are Gray at Best. Reader uses she/her/hers pronouns. Few uses of Y/N, though reader is primarily referred to through the use of a nickname.

Summary: Dabbling in this type of magic would no doubt create an imbalance, messing with the natural order of things. But then again, there was nothing natural about the way he died.

Word Count: 8,262

A/N: At long last, Part 2 is finally here! We apologize for the wait but we thank you for your patience and for all of the support on the previous part. Before we move forward, we want to update you all on a couple of things.

First- As we’ve previously stated, we are working on continuing this story as a full fic. But based on the story we want to tell and the angle we’re going for, the fic will most likely go back in time and start at the beginning of ST4. This two part one shot can be considered a prologue and an epilogue of sorts, since we most likely will not be taking the story any further than the final scene of ST4, at least for the time being. 

Second- In terms of how frequently we will be able to release chapters, that is unfortunately TBD for the time being as well. With both of our schedules and separate projects that are still in progress, it’s definitely going to be a challenge to get them out as frequently as we’d like. But we’re still going to try our best and promise to not leave you hanging! 

With all of that said, we’re very much looking forward to continuing this story that has grown so near and dear to both of our hearts over the past couple of months and we hope you all continue to follow along!

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let us know! 🖤

Listen to the playlist here. 🎶

PART 1 can be found here!

There were a few good things about the fact that Hawkins was in a mild state of chaos.

Compared to everything else going on in town, a girl walking along the side of the road was the least of many people’s worries and hadn’t garnered much attention. 

It also helped that she had literally chosen the road less traveled. Hardly anyone used the roads located on the outskirts of town. The main highway - although almost always jammed - pointed right in the direction of the city, which made it far more appealing to those coming to and going from Hawkins. The surrounding back roads were a far safer bet. 

At first, there had been one car that passed her as she walked along the nearly abandoned roads, and it had slowed down as they passed by. The older woman in the driver’s seat had been traveling alone. Fortunately, due to the array of borrowed clothing she had chosen to disguise herself with, the woman hadn’t recognized her from the local news.

The woman smiled warmly at her whilst offering her a ride. She turned it down quickly, forcing herself to act as natural as she could muster so as not to raise suspicion. Thankfully, her polite refusal hadn’t been given a second thought and she had been left alone.

Since her encounter with that first car, she made it a point to dash into the woods alongside the road whenever the grumbling of a car was heard coming towards or up behind her. 

Unfortunately, though the roads initially seemed nearly empty, the longer she walked, the more cars she encountered. And before long, she took many, many quick side steps into the brush to take cover. And what had been more unfortunate, was that what would have been a near hour walk already quickly turned into a multi-hour affair. 

Other than that, the journey had been surprisingly easy. 

Almost too easy.

It was ridiculous, to say the least. Why would you risk being spotted loitering around the scene of the crime you allegedly helped commit? But after much consideration and deliberation, she concluded that it might not be as risky as previously thought. If she was correct - which, knowing her parents and the people who were now in charge of Hawkins law enforcement, she most likely was - where she was headed was the absolute last place anyone would imagine her turning up. 

When her destination finally came into view, she almost cried. For more reasons than one.

The trailer park was an eerie sight.

There was not a soul to be seen. The nosy neighbors who had once spent most of their free time outside just in an effort to watch everyone else come and go had long since abandoned their humble abodes in favor of the safety some motel rooms a few towns over could provide. 

Even the stray cats that seemed to occupy the gravel roads like citizens in their own right were nowhere to be seen. She spared a brief passing thought for them, hoping that, like their human counterparts, they had been able to find shelter elsewhere.

It was quiet, too. 

Music, the sound of barking dogs, and the sizzling of fires had not been uncommon pieces of the trailer park’s usual ambience. But none of those noises filled the air that night.

It had been completely deserted.

When the trailer - their trailer - came into view, she froze.

It looked like a shell of its former self. The gate's opening had caused it to split right down the middle, a grotesque scene of the place she had once dwelled in.

But it was home.

It was the only place she’d ever been able to call home, really. She lived with her parents, in the family house. But living with the Munsons, in their trailer, had been home.

The heavy metal and old country music battling for audibility whenever Wayne was around. The clutter that prevented the trailer from ever being clean, but always indicated that it was a space well-lived in.

All of it was gone.

There was no door, not anymore. The only way in was to climb up and over the opposite side of the trailer, which had folded over upon themselves.

The task was a bit of a struggle, but not any more than the countless other challenges she’d faced over the past two days.

Once she was inside the remains of the trailer, she stopped for a moment to observe her surroundings. It had been the first time she’d stepped foot in their bedroom since… 

Her breath hitched in her throat.

The bedroom that she had shared with her other half for over a year. The mattress stained with a plethora of things - some of which neither of them would ever specifically divulge - had most likely disintegrated. And though it made no sense, his most prized possession was long gone- the place where he had so lovingly hung it upon the bedroom wall was bare. However, some version of it had to still be out there, she reckoned.

… Better that way. At least it was with its owner.

For now.

Once she’d gotten her bearings, she slowly started down what used to be the hallway. She allowed her memory to guide her more than anything else, considering the visible remnants of it were almost completely unrecognizable.

She rummaged around in her bag briefly before finding the emergency candles Dustin had given to her the first night she’d spent in her aunt’s house, when he’d also dropped off the food.

Oh, sweet Dustin.

She smirked to herself bitterly. What would the boy have thought about her chosen use of the candles now?

As she stood there, they felt heavy in her hand. But the forbidden journal she’d found, which was still in the bag slung off her shoulder, felt even heavier. 

She lit one with the lighter - Eddie’s lighter - she had also managed to grab before she left. Watching the flame for just a second, she blew it out. As the smoke slowly disintegrated into the surrounding airspace, a moment of doubt snuck upon her, and for the first time in several hours, she questioned what she had set out to do. 

What would Steve think?

What she was thinking of doing was wrong, terribly wrong. 

Not only would each of her new friends completely detest and possibly fear her actions, it was also considered taboo among most other practitioners. Death was a natural occurrence of life, and matters related to it were highly advised not to be messed with. Dabbling in this type of magic would no doubt create an imbalance, messing with the natural order of things.

But then again, there was nothing natural about the way he died.

That realization quickly prevented her from feeling too guilty, taking a moment to replay the day’s previous events in her mind. She used the rapidly increasing fury for motivation and pushed all other thoughts to the side, before looking up at the open space above the trailer wistfully. 

The gate, still glowing ever so slightly, was directly in front of her. Unlike before, she didn’t have to climb any ropes or go through any more obstacles.

All she had to do this time was just walk straight in. 

She placed the candle on the ground, and pulled out one final item.

Her walkman and headphones. 

Putting them on, she took a deep breath. As she began to brace herself for what was to come, she exhaled before pressing play.

All Dustin could think about was her.

Steve hadn’t been lying when he’d said he didn’t take the news of their decision well. 

He was furious. And extremely concerned.

Dustin considered her a friend now. A valuable member of their party. And now he was just supposed to stay away from her. After she had lost everything?! 

The others had assured him that she would be okay, that they were still looking after her, and that she wouldn’t be alone. Steve swore up and down that she had understood the situation and didn’t misinterpret it as an act of abandonment on his part. Deep down, Dustin questioned his friend’s honesty at that moment, but he ultimately chose to trust him. The truth was, there had been some validity in Steve’s argument behind the decision.

And Dustin couldn’t contain his excitement upon seeing his beloved friends return from months of living halfway across the country. He’d limped as fast as he could just to greet them. 

Once the salutations had been exchanged, he filled them in briefly before they went their separate ways yet again. The others were eager to visit Max after hearing of her condition. So, while they headed on over to the hospital, Dustin had decided to stick with Steve and Robin, accompanying them to the school instead. 

He sat in the backseat of Steve’s car, listening to him drone on after witnessing Jonathan and Nancy’s reunion. 

“I know they never broke up or anything, but you saw how Nancy was whenever any of us brought him up. She seemed conflicted!”

“They’ve been going long distance for almost a year now. It can be really hard on any relationship- make you question your feelings,” Robin retorted.

“Yeah, but this is Nancy we’re talking about. She knows exactly who she is and what she feels.”

Robin rolled her eyes at her best friend’s ridiculous argument. “But at the end of the day, he’s still her boyfriend.”

Steve stammered, trying - and failing - to find any evidence to the contrary. He sighed, admitting defeat. “I know…”

“I don’t know what you expected, Steve.” She shook her head, trying to hold back a laugh, knowing that it wasn’t his fault that he was still head over heels in love with his high school sweetheart.

“I just thought that we had connected. After everything that we’d experienced together down there, you know?”

Dustin would have been lying if he said he’d been paying much attention to any of what his two older friends had been saying. But Steve’s last statement got his full attention immediately. 

Steve was one to talk, he thought. 

They continued their banter while Dustin’s mind wandered back to his new friend, the one that had endured the same tragic loss he had just two days prior. The same one that was now sitting alone in her aunt’s old house, most likely replaying what had happened over and over again in her mind. Except now, she didn’t have him to lean on. 

Dustin then opted to focus on the music that was playing in the background. The low hum of Bring On the Dancing Horses echoed through the small speakers in Steve’s beloved BMW.

“Sage loves this song.”

The sound of Dustin’s voice quickly silenced the two sitting in the front seat. Steve looked back at him through the rearview mirror, a flash of concern on his face at the mention of his estranged friend.

“It’s by one of her favorite bands. It was on the tape Eddie told me to play, in case Vecna got her.” 

Robin looked at Steve sympathetically, knowing exactly what was going through his mind upon hearing Dustin’s words. 

Steve tried his best to keep his eyes on the road, but also watched Dustin intently as he continued to talk.

“She really loved listening to music. Eddie said it always made her feel better. Does she have all her tapes with her? Maybe we should call and check-”

Steve merely shook his head. “She’s got ‘em all.” 

Dustin opened his mouth to continue, but Steve quickly cut him off. “And she’s got plenty of food and water and everything else she needs. She’s okay, Buddy. I promise.” 

He nodded, knowing that Steve had gotten wise to his motives and most likely wouldn’t allow him to pry any further. 

Steve pulled into the parking lot. Though school was not in session, the amount of cars already parked outside of the building and the people who could already be seen coming and going from the gym’s entrance would have suggested otherwise.

“You just gotta leave her be for now.”

The music blared through her headphones. It was a very welcome distraction from the various noises she knew would be waiting for her on the other side. 

But she had failed to remember one small detail before venturing into Mordor once again.

The gate was slimy. And it was fucking gross. 

Upon entrance, she was covered head to toe in what looked like it had come from straight out of some supernatural horror movie. One which she was now living in, apparently.

She wiped her face off with the inside of her jacket sleeve, not even taking the time to be gentle around her eyes, and spit out into the open. 

Once she’d gotten as clean as she imagined she was going to get, she headed to the upside down version of the bedroom, and somewhat carelessly dumped her belongings in the bag out onto the floor. She spotted the remaining safety candle, and grabbed it as gently as possible, before blowing on the unlit wick. 

It was one of the most exciting things she could have possibly seen in her current situation. The candle caught aflame right in front of her eyes, without her even having to light it. 

“Ha!” she laughed triumphantly before setting the candle down, just for a minute, as she gathered her things. 

As soon as she was set, the mood quickly shifted once more as the implications of what she had to do came over her, much like a sudden storm.

The candle in her hand did little to provide any actual light as she made her way out of the remnants of the trailer and into the Upside Down. But, like the music that continued to blare through the headphones situated over her ears, it grounded her, giving her something else to focus on then the dark setting surrounding her. Not to mention the fact that the creatures that were potentially still roaming around were averse to fire.

She wandered for a few minutes. The memories of that night - with a few notable exceptions - were hazy at best, causing the exact location she sought to be unknown. All she knew for sure was that everything had gone down in the general vicinity of the trailer.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of searching, her eyes landed on the bottoms of the white sneakers she knew so well that she swore she’d have been able to pick them out of a line up. She froze, her eyes forcing themselves shut before they dared to venture further up than that of the shoes.

Her eyes had only been on him for a mere second before she turned on her heels, rushing to the closest form of shrubbery in sight. Her body convulsed as she emptied the contents of her stomach, bile coating the dried up flowers littered about the neighboring trailer’s front lawn area.

She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t given much consideration to how she’d react upon seeing him again. 

Once it seemed as though there was nothing left to throw up, she quickly wiped her mouth and tried to focus on her breathing, and the lyrics of the song playing. 

“Under blue moon I saw you. So soon you’ll take me.”

It was one of their songs. The memories tied to it were ones of happiness and safety. She turned back around and this time, forced her eyes open, trudging her feet forward. Her heart shattered more than she thought was still possible with each heavy step she took.

“Up in your arms too late to beg you. Or cancel it, though I know it must be the killing time.”

There he was. Still laying there in the dirt, unceremoniously splayed out upon the ground. It was a gruesome scene to leave him in. And yet, she’d been given no choice in the matter.

“Unwillingly mine.”

Her knees gave out beneath her as she fell to the ground beside him, not at all unlike she had 48 hours ago.

Tears clouded her vision as her eyes traveled upwards, starting with the white sneakers he made no serious effort to keep clean, all the way up towards his face.

… Fuck.

His soft brown eyes, once so full of life, were now clouded and focused somewhere beyond. She felt herself let out a sob.

“‘And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water.’”

The gentleness of Eddie’s voice as he read Return of the King always did wonders to lull her to sleep. He knew it too. The light hand that ran idle fingers through her hair was further evidence of his harmless intentions. 

The two of them were laying on his bed, limbs intertwined this way and that. The rainy Sunday afternoon was the perfect excuse for a midday nap.

“‘And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the gray rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise,’” Eddie finished.

A few moments of silence passed.

“You paused,” she said, her voice muffled as her face was pressed to the front of his shirt.

“... Do you think that’s really what it’s like?” he wondered, his voice even quieter. “You know… after?’

She hummed, the clutches of sleep rendering her almost devoid of clear thoughts. Still, the sudden shift in his tone urged her to reply softly, “I’d like to think so.”

Eddie’s hand came to a stop on the back of her head. “Yeah… I think so too.” Then, he cleared his throat. “Right… Where were we? -”

She hoped to whatever higher powers that be, that his sweet soul had managed to wind up there.

White shores. A far green country. A swift sunrise.

After everything he’d done, it was the least he deserved.

“Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him.”

And if there was any chance, any chance at all, that what he was experiencing was anything less than that, didn’t she owe it to him to move forward with her plan?

She cleared her throat, eyes flashing down to him once more. 

What she needed to do would require focus, and she also knew that would be extremely difficult if she proceeded like this.

After placing the candle down carefully, she dug into her bag, quickly finding the blanket she’d thrown in earlier before leaving. She whispered indescribable apologies as she flourished the blanket quickly, before letting it fall to the ground, peacefully draping over him. She was incredibly grateful that the ritual involved a “veil” of some sort, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could look at him in that state.

She rose and took a few steps back, taking the candle with her. A little bit of distance would be safer. When she was comfortable with the amount of space between them, she lowered herself back to the ground. She set down the candle once more, and withdrew the vest and the journal from her bag.

With the vest serving as the grounding object in one hand, and the journal, opened to the exact page she’d discovered earlier in the day, serving as the tool with which she meant to accomplish her means in the other, she willed herself to calmness. Once she was a bit more relaxed, she lowered the headphones off her ears, letting them dangle freely around her neck.

The quietness of the Upside Down was eerie, but it did wonders to focus her attention even more to the task at hand.

When she was ready, she began reading the words on the page. Mental images of the one she longed to see once more filled her mind as she did so, hopefully giving the spell all the intentions it would need.

Once she had read through it once, her eyes lifted off the page, and darted over towards the blanketed figure a few yards away.

It remained still.

She tried again. Perhaps it was meant to be a mantra.

And again, nothing.

A third time.

Nothing.

The all too familiar feeling of anger flooded her once more. She rose from the ground, letting the journal and vest fall as she did so.

She rushed over to the blanketed figure, before grabbing a fistful of fabric and yanking it up unceremoniously.

He was gone.

Her face contorted in the perfect storm of confusion and fear.

“Sage?”

It was so soft, she’d barely heard it.

“Sweetheart, is that you?”

Chills crawled up her spine upon hearing that voice.

The voice that she never thought she’d get to hear again. 

She braced herself yet again, as she slowly turned around.

Upon their arrival, Steve, Robin and Dustin headed into the packed gymnasium. Each of them winced as they walked by the hundreds of people who were receiving much needed medical attention, and the rest of them, who were very obviously in distress after the alleged “earthquake”.

Maybe it was guilt, or just straight up compassion. But Robin had volunteered the three of them to help attend to the stations and patrons… Or were they inhabitants? Dustin wasn’t sure what to call them, but he wasn’t even sure he cared enough to figure it out.

He limped around, passing out cups of water to anyone who needed one. He looked at each person with a small smile, and even cracked a few jokes to the more approachable-looking ones. But his mind was still elsewhere.

He was struggling. The conversation in the car had only caused him to miss his new friend even more than he already had been. Everyone had said they were there for him, and that they were more than willing to lend an ear if he needed or wanted to talk about everything that had happened. But when it came down to it, when Dustin was actually looking to discuss it all, he was very quickly brushed off. 

Oh, how he wished he could talk to her. They could talk about Eddie - the real Eddie. Even if it was just to acknowledge his former existence. After all, they were probably the two people in the world who loved him the most.

Just as that thought crossed Dustin’s mind, he spotted the forgotten third person who never once left Eddie’s corner, and who never failed to take up his defense throughout everything.

Wayne Munson stood by the bulletin board, replacing defaced missing posters for both his nephew and his nephew’s girlfriend. Dustin could tell that this wasn’t a new experience for him. The way he quickly tore down the posters - each covered in cruel remarks and doodles - was an action marked by clear exhaustion and defeat.

“Mr. Munson?” Dustin didn’t hesitate to call out to him, even though he didn’t seem to want anything to do with him. “I’m Dustin Henderson. Can we talk?” 

He looked at the older man with hopeful eyes, but was immediately shot down.

“I can’t imagine we’ve got anything to talk about.”

He must not have recognized him. Although they’d never officially met before, Dustin had heard plenty about Mr. Munson. Especially over the past week. 

“My nephew is innocent. And so is the girl.” His loyalty was ever present in his tone and demeanor. Dustin merely nodded in response as the older man continued. “They’re still missing. I’ll put up as many posters as I need until they’re found. So, unless you’ve got anything to say that can help me with that, good day to you.” He quickly grabbed his things and began to walk away, but Dustin’s words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“I was with him,” he blurted out, voice already shaking. “I was with him when the earthquake hit.”

Wayne nodded gently, fearing the answer to the question he was about to ask. 

“And… where is Eddie now?”

Dustin shook slightly in place, and it was not due to his injured ankle. His lips started to quiver as he silently reached into his back pocket to reveal the guitar pick necklace that had always adorned his older friend’s neck. 

The look on Wayne’s face upon seeing it was one of immediate recognition.  

“I’m so sorry.” Dustin hobbled over to him, hand extended outward. 

Wayne took the pick into his own hand immediately. A devastated smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers over the smooth plastic, before going over to sit on a nearby cot. Dustin quickly joined him. 

“… And the girl?” Wayne’s voice perked up ever so slightly, and the smallest bit of hope was still audible in his words.

Dustin merely shook his head.

He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he was informing the man beside him that he had lost everything, or that to some degree, he was lying. 

Steve and the others had come to yet another mutual agreement without Dustin’s input, that if anyone had asked, they were all to say that she had died alongside Eddie that night.

“This way, the heat will die down and we’ll be able to get her out of town without anyone looking for her. It’s the best thing for everyone.”

“I wish everyone had gotten to know him. Really know him. Because they would’ve loved him, Mr. Munson. Just like you, me, and Sage did.”

Wayne cried, silent tears running slowly down his tired face. The tears fell for both his honorary son and the girl who had come to be his honorary daughter. 

“They would’ve loved him. Even in the end… he never stopped being Eddie. Despite everything, I never even saw him get mad. That was always more her thing, though…” 

That caused Wayne to laugh, and Dustin laughed with him as he recalled all of the times she’d gotten so upset with Eddie for being his ridiculous, unserious, and wonderful self when they desperately needed to focus. 

“He could’ve run. He could’ve saved himself. But he fought. He fought and died to protect this town. This town that… hated them.”

Wayne sobbed, clutching the necklace tight. 

“He isn’t just innocent. Mr. Munson, he’s… he’s a hero. He was her hero.” 

After that, the two sat in silence for a while, remembering the person that they loved and cared so deeply for.

As he sat there with the last remaining Munson, Dustin was hit with an epiphany. He knew then that no matter what Steve, Robin, and Nancy said, he needed to be there for his friend. And as soon as he got a chance, he would contact her. 

She whimpered upon meeting his gaze. 

He stood there, covered in his own blood, eyes still clouded. 

But he was alive.

Without any hesitation, she rushed over and threw her arms around him. In that moment, she swore she’d never let him go again. 

He held her as she sobbed. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Her voice shook immensely as she attempted to speak. “You… you were… gone.” She gasped for air but ultimately just kept crying out. 

He shushed her, rubbing her back gently as he always did when she was upset. “I’m still here,” he whispered. He cupped her face in his hands and began to wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “But I shouldn’t be.”

She looked at him, eyes once again full of confusion. 

“I was dead, Sage. And somehow, you brought me back. How did you do it? What did you do?”

His eyes glanced over to the journal on the ground next to them. He put the pieces together in his head. 

“You used dark magic, didn’t you?” 

His hold on her tightened, causing the flesh of her cheeks to sting even worse than they already had. 

“Eddie… you’re hurting me…”

In the five years they’d been romantically involved, he’d never been rough with her. But she’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t even angry. He was scared.

“You swore to me that you’d never get into this kind of shit. Why would you do this?!”

He began to shake her on each word, seemingly in some kind of effort further emphasizing his point. She just let out a string of broken cries. “I couldn’t live without you.”

He scoffed slightly, narrowing his eyes at her. “Couldn’t? Or didn’t want to?”

She looked at him with pleading eyes, but he refused to meet her gaze. Despite his blunt disapproval of her actions, she just couldn’t understand why he was behaving this way. “Of course I don’t want to live without you. You’re everything to me, Eddie.” 

“Then why would you bring me back into a world that doesn’t want me?! I’m just gonna end up dead one way or another. Why couldn’t you just let me be at peace? Why did you have to be so selfish?!” 

His eyes snapped back up to meet hers, the look of disgust plastered upon his face. “It’s because you needed someone to take the blame for your crimes.”

“What-”

“You killed Chrissy, didn’t you?” 

His accusation stunned her to silence.

His once clouded irises were now completely white, while the rest of his eyes were bloodshot.

“It wasn’t Vecna. It was you. You were jealous of her. You thought I’d leave you, so you killed her. Just like you killed Fred for telling Nancy about your past, and Patrick for calling you a witch.”

His accusations shot out, one right after the other. Each of them stung as they pierced into her like bullets. 

He took the final shot, straight for the heart.

“You killed them all- just like you killed your brother.”

She stood there, paralyzed. Mouth hung open, she wracked her brain for any response that might get through to him. To prove him wrong. But she couldn’t find her voice. 

“They all said you were just as crazy as your aunt… Maybe I should’ve believed them.” 

Tears were streaming down her face as she shook violently, backing away from him as he got closer.

“You’re a monster, just like they said.”

His voice began to fade out, a much deeper and darker one taking its place.

“It should’ve been you that died!”

She stumbled back, losing her footing after backing into something that had been on the ground behind her. She yelped, looking down at the cushion-like item that had caused her fall.

It was Eddie’s corpse. 

It was still there, lying lifeless under the blanket. Her fall caused his left arm to peak out, showing off his pale hand adorned with all of his rings. She continued sobbing upon the sight.

None of it is real.

“Y/n…”

At first she had thought it was part of the hallucination, or maybe just the miscellaneous noises blurring together to create something that faintly resembled it. After all, she’d barely been called that name anymore. 

But then she heard it again, this time slightly louder than before. It continued to increase in volume as the source of the call approached her.

She shivered upon hearing her given name called out to her by the same evil voice that had mere moments before used Eddie -  her Eddie - as vessel to break her. 

“Y/n… It’s about time we’ve met…”

A dark, lanky, and disfigured creature could be spotted about a yard away from where she’d sat, curled into a fetal position in anguish, and now terror. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this moment for a very long time.”

She could only assume that the figure was Vecna himself. Even though she had no prior knowledge of his appearance, whatever was standing before her was more terrifying than anything she could’ve ever imagined. It had to be him.

“You’ve made it extremely difficult for us to communicate- always shutting me out the second I manage to get in. How is your mind so strong for someone so weak?” 

“Fuck you.”

Her words surprised her more than they did him. She was shocked that, given the current situation, she was able to talk back to someone who was easily considered the most dangerous monster of them all.

Damn it, Eddie. She’d spent so much time discussing everything with him in D&D terms, that she still found herself looking at everything through the lens of the game. 

But this wasn’t a game. And the odds of her making it out of this encounter alive - especially with her smart mouth - were slim to none. 

Since when do you care about the odds?

“What do you even want with me?! If I’m so weak, what use could I possibly be to you? You’ve already taken everything. Why don’t you just cut the shit and finish me off.” 

He narrowed his ice cold, animalistic eyes at her more out of intrigue than anger. 

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He spoke as he slowly closed in on her. “You want your suffering to finally end.” 

She wanted so badly to look away from him, to deny his accusation. But she couldn’t. Everything he was saying was completely true. 

“You want to take the coward's way out, to join your little boyfriend in the afterlife. What makes you think you deserve to be at peace after everything you’ve done?”

You demented fuck.

He chuckled. 

… Did he hear that?

Shit.

“I’m not letting you go that easily. You’re different from the others. I have bigger plans for you.”

As confused as she was, she had a feeling he wouldn’t leave her in the lurch for long. Max and Nancy had both mentioned his tendency to throw himself into an evil monologue. And she couldn’t deny that she had been at least a bit curious.

“You are my perfect vessel. Your guilt is stronger than all of them combined. If I had been able to kill you before, I probably wouldn’t have needed the others. But you just wouldn’t let me in.” 

Suddenly, everything all made sense.

It all came back to her past. Everything always did. It was always her fault. There was always something she could’ve done. To save Eddie. To save her brother. But she’d always been the selfish one. The one who made it out alive while countless others didn’t. And she’d always been living with the constant reminders of those failures. 

The months since the previous summer had been different though. She had always assumed it was something to do with witchcraft, possibly something new blowing through. At one point, she simply brushed it off due to the fact that she had started using new birth control. But those theories seemed downright laughable now. How could she have been so blind? When Max and Nancy were recounting their experiences of being in Vecna’s trance, she never made the connection between what they’d felt and seen to what she had experienced herself.

The days spent reliving slightly distorted versions of each of her memories as if they were happening all over again. The nights waking in a cold sweat from the horrific nightmares she had endured on the regular. The nosebleeds and piercing headaches that she would get following each of them. 

It was him the entire time. 

It had always been him.

“You wouldn’t let me in… until now.”

It had to have been the spell. It was the only logical explanation she could think of. I always knew it was too dangerous. I should’ve fucking listened. 

“Your plan may not have succeeded in the way you had hoped, but I’m so glad you were naive enough to try.”

Her eyes clenched shut tightly, and her body seized up as an overwhelming sense of pain washed over her. It was suffocating. It was impossible to tell if it was mental, emotional, or physical- it was all just pain. And nothing but pain. It flooded her senses, rendering her unable to make sense of or focus on anything but his voice.

“So ashamed. You hide from everyone, but you can’t hide from me. I see you for everything you are.”

The wind was abruptly knocked out of her as she fell into the deep, dark oblivion of her mind. She reached, grasping at anything. But there was nothing. Nothing but cold, empty darkness. She kept falling, until suddenly everything stopped, and her body was completely still.

“Usually, I like to take my time. But we don’t have that. So, I’ll make an exception, just this once.”

His voice echoed throughout the deepest depths of her mind. 

… Is that where I am?

“I’m going to show you everything now. You’ll know more than anyone ever has. You’ll finally be able to see what we’ve been working towards.”

Before she had a chance to process what was being said to her, she was jolted awake. Every single memory of her past, mixed with memories that weren’t even her own, flashed before her eyes. She had no idea how she was able to see each and every one of them - to feel them. It was almost as if she was actually living them, right in the present. 

All she could feel was pain. The pain of losing her brother, her aunt. Her family turning against her. Steve turning against her. The blood, the screaming. Eddie’s screams. Electric shocks? The all consuming, paralyzing fear of his victims. Max’s fear and the feeling of the life leaving her body. The exhilarating power and satisfaction he’d felt after slaughtering each and every one of them. The taste of flesh and blood filling her mouth. Eddie’s blood. 

She couldn’t help it- a last-ditch desperate idea of getting help crossed her mind. If she’d been able to find her voice, she may have actually called out the words, though she knew her efforts would have been entirely futile.

Help. 

Anyone? 

Please.

“Your friends are not able to help you now,” Vecna said. It was more of a fact, a cold, hard-truth of a statement than any kind of argument .”Though, why you even refer to them as such is rather interesting.”

Her eyes were still shut tightly. She was unsure of whether she was even still standing. There was nothing indicative of her surroundings, except for his voice, which only grew louder with each passing second.

“What kind of friends could be so ignorant, so callous about the devastating loss you’ve experienced?”

In a cruel sense of irony, at the tiniest mention of the person in question, she could’ve sworn her mind cleared enough for the faintest trace of his smiling face to flash across it. The vision was fleeting though, and just as quickly as it had dissipated, the pain returned, and with a vengeance.

“What kind of friends won’t let you properly say goodbye to your dead?” he questioned. In a softer tone, he added, “They’ve claimed to have tucked you away under the guise of your safety. But you should ask yourself- was that the real purpose? … After all, if you’re out of sight, you’re out of mind.”

Pain. Nothing but awful, unbearable pain.

“Your friends don’t want you to grieve, and yet they don’t want to console you, either. They would have you live out the rest of your days on the run… Is that really the kind of life you want? To waste away in constant regret in shame, to live in the shadows of a world that considers you to be a monster? They’re scared of you, Y/N. You’ve always been too powerful for them. They tried to suppress your abilities, to guilt you into submission. And you’ve always let them. That’s why you’re the way you are now- that is what makes you weak.”

With every sentence, his voice grew louder. Each statement was punctuated with a sense of resolve, and a sense of righteousness.

“You are weak.”

She was physically unable to respond to his declaration. But even if she had been able to do so, she wasn’t sure she would have.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way anymore… What you’ve done has bound us. I could force you to bend to my will. You’d crumble so very easily... But, aside from the weakness, I sense something else in you… you’re tired. Stop fighting. Choose to no longer be weak. Stop fighting, Y/N. Join me.”

At once, her eyes shot open. She physically felt as though she’d finally awoken from the nightmare that was his trance, like Max had. But when she looked around, she noticed that she was no longer in the trailer park. 

Everything was red and covered in what she could only assume was blood. Each of her surroundings had looked like they had been chewed up and spit out. Destroyed remnants of what appeared as the Creel house were directly in front of her. Her legs began moving, as if she were a puppet on a string. She turned the handle of the door and entered, paying no mind to the corpses of his victims that lined the walls. 

There he stood, in the center of the house. In front of him was a closed casket. It looked like it was made of some of the rubble, with vines wrapped around it, keeping it in place. But her focus was deterred upon the sight of the bat wings that adorned the top.

“I’ve always had plans for you… For both of you. Now, all you need to do is choose.”

Dustin slipped out of the cafeteria easily.

He made his way down the various hallways with just as much ease, despite his ankle protesting with every single step. Thankfully, there was enough activity going on throughout Hawkins’ High that those who pass him in the bright-white lit hallways barely spare him a second glance.

He reached his destination sooner than he expected, and when he tried the handle, he was overcome with a sense of relief that it had been unlocked. Dustin slipped inside the room quickly, and closed the door behind him.

His eyes scanned the room, assessing the damage.

It was more of a closet, really. The Hawkins’ High School AV Club was given just about as much respect as the middle school’s club.

The room looked like it had been ransacked; apparently, someone had thought to secure all potential modes of communication in advance, should something more traumatic happen to Hawkins in the meantime and render phone lines useless.

The Heathkit Ham Shack radio, which was identical to the one Mr. Clarke had dedicatedly worked to obtain for Hawkins’ Middle School AV Club just a few years prior, was nowhere to be found. Other miscellaneous devices were missing as well - the tall shelves bordering the walls of the small room looked particularly empty.

Dustin could only hope no one had thought to snag the particular device he was searching for.

He hobbled over to the shelf along the back wall, searching his mind for reference on where he had last seen the devices in question. There were only a few boxes to search.

On the final box he opened, a victorious smile broke out across his face.

He lifted up the device, and inspected it briefly before switching it on. The static that resounded was music to his ears. He quickly changed the frequency to the number he knew by heart.

“Sage, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

The seconds felt like minutes as they ticked away. Maybe she hadn’t heard?

“Sage, I repeat, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

Dustin waited for a response with bated breath, but was given no reprieve.

“Y/N?” he tried then, the name sounding a bit foreign on his tongue, due to his preference of using the girl’s nickname. “Do you copy?”

All Dustin was met with was more silence.

If she had been anywhere near the walkie talkie, which he had instructed her very specifically to keep by her side at all times, for safety of course, she should have heard him by then. Which made him wonder- where was she?

If she wasn’t in her great aunt’s house anymore, what happened? Had she’d been discovered?

Had she left voluntarily?

She wouldn’t… would she?

Regardless of what the answer was, something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Steve watched Robin and Vicki with a smile as he continued to fold and sort the ever-growing piles of donated clothes.

He continued to glance over at them curiously until Dustin emerged in his line of sight, taking him aback. “Oh, hey.” Upon seeing his young friend’s stressed out look all over his face, Steve felt his smile fall. “What’s going on?”

“I think something’s wrong with Sage,” Dustin answered urgently.

Steve sighed tiredly. “Listen, Dustin, we’ve already been over this. She’s fine-”

“No,” Dustin interrupted, with a bit more force than Steve was used to seeing from him. “You don’t understand-”

“Hey, something’s going on outside!”

A loud shout ringing throughout the gymnasium broke through theirs and countless other ongoing conversations. Steve and Dustin turned their head towards the source of the sound, but by that point, a decent number of people had already made their way over towards the exit, evidently wanting to see whatever was going on for themselves.

Dustin didn’t spare him another glance as he moved to follow them.

“Dustin, wait!” Steve called, reaching towards him, but he was immediately cut off from further pursuing him by the long table he was standing behind. By the time he made his way around said table, Dustin was gone, lost in the growing crowd of people corralling themselves out of the building.

Steve was about to abandon his volunteer post to follow the crowd anyways, knowing Dustin couldn’t have been too hard to catch up with, given the rate of speed he was limited to at the moment. But something outside the window caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. With a sense of shock and dread, he approached the large panes of glass slowly.

Dustin stopped just outside of the gymnasium doors. Like the others surrounding him, his attention was immediately pulled upwards.

Snow-like particles fell from above, coating everything below in a light layer. However, once a few of the particles landed softly upon Dustin’s face, he realized with slight disdain that the small specs were not cold to the touch.

It wasn’t snow, he realized with horror. It was ash.

Worried chatter of those around him filled his ears, though their words were undetectable to him.

His head swiveled around, taking in the entire periphery of the visible skyline.

5, 6, 7- perhaps more- large black plumes of smoke billowed from the ground up to the sky. There wasn’t a direction around them that was clear. It was as though the entire town was surrounded- or rather, right in the thick of it.

Flashes of red flickered across the sky in the form of lightning. The lightning looked eerily similar, but it couldn’t be.

Could it?

Thunder never came. Instead, what followed the red streaks of harsh light was a low, rumbling sound.

It was the soundtrack of something ominous. And it wasn’t something coming. Whatever it was, it was already here.

Will hissed as a sharp pain pricked at the back of his neck.

Look up.

Much to his dismay, he did as he was compelled to, turning around and tilting his chin upwards. It looked like a storm rolling in. The happy chatter behind him ceased as the others evidently noticed the sudden weather change as well.

But the clouds were moving quickly, and after what felt like a mere minute, the sky had gone dark. And what fell from the clouds was not rain- but ash.

Hopper and El led the trek through the woods to the clearing that overlooked Hawkins. What was already a short walk felt even shorter with each step. But the closer they got, the heavier, more suffocated Will began to feel.

When the trees gave way to the open skies, and wildflowers and weeds replaced the dead leaves that littered the ground beneath their feet, an awful sight was revealed to them.

Before Will could even begin to process the terrible sight before him, the sharp pain at the back of his neck returned, as did a dull ringing throughout his ears.

We’ve only just begun.

He swallowed hard due to the paralyzing feeling of dread overcoming his senses. 

“No... No!” He whispered to himself more than anyone else. 

Mike, observant as ever, seemed to hear him though. “What’s happening? Is he talking to you?”

Will shook his head gently. “No, not to me. To someone else.”

Mike looked at him with more concern than he had in the entire week they’d just spent together. “What did he say?” 

After checking to make sure the others weren’t paying any attention to them, he met his gaze. Eyes wide and tears beginning to flow, he worked up the courage to speak.

“You’ve chosen wisely.” 

The other boy stared at him in confusion.

“Mike… He’s not alone anymore.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!🖤

TAGLIST: @insertsupercoolusernamehere​

[themagenamedsage]

Nothing Else Matters ~ Part 2 Sneak Peek and Update

Hi everyone!

First- please note that there has been a name change for this blog.

eddiethisismusicmunson ---> themagenamedsage 

Second- please be assured that we are actively in progress of working on Part of 2 Nothing Else Matters. In the meantime, we hope you enjoy this sneak peak. If you would like to be added to the taglist for when this part is posted, please feel free to let us know! 🖤

Part 1 can be found here.

Hope you all have a great rest of the week! ~ 🎸 & 🦇

What she was thinking of doing was wrong, terribly wrong. 

Not only would each of her new friends completely detest and possibly fear her actions, it was considered taboo among most other practitioners. Death was a natural occurrence of life, and matters related to it were highly advised not to be messed with. Dabbling in this type of magic would no doubt create an imbalance, messing with the natural order of things.

But there was nothing natural about the way he died.

Taglist: @insertsupercoolusernamehere​

[themagenamedsage]

Eddie Munson/Corroded Coffin “Making it Big” Headcanons

~ written by 🦇~

Part 2 can be found here.

***Eddie Munson lives and his name is cleared AU because he deserves no less***

***technically the 4th member of corroded coffin has no name (sad face), so I’ve named him Grant, after the actor who plays him***

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant scraped up every possible spare change they had.

Gareth and Grant had finally graduated, which meant they had the time to get “real” jobs, just like Eddie and Jeff had to before them. But with those “real” jobs, came real adult debts and other responsibilities that required money, so things were tight for a while.

But it was a group effort, and they were all in it together to save whatever money they could in order to get Corroded Coffin’s first official album produced.

After almost a year, they finally scraped up all the money they could manage to hire some guy Gareth’s cousin told them about a few towns over. Said guy had an entire little studio set up in his mother’s basement, and offered them a “friends and family” discount- which basically meant he’d take whatever money they could give him, plus other forms of payment.

Other payments included food but also included goods that Eddie was able to provide

They recorded the album in the man’s mother’s dimly lit basement, but the experience wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

Eddie swore the smell of mothballs would never leave his nostrils, and the group had to spend literal hours narrowing down Corroded Coffin’s expansive repertoire to come up with the ten most perfect tracks to put onto the album.

After the album was recorded, came the even harder part: making about a kajillion copies of it to distribute.

Speaking of the master copy of the album: Grant was tasked with guarding that bad boy, on pain of death. He was down to go down for the cause, though.

Once the many, many copies were made, the group mailed them off to as many record labels that they could find the information for on the East and West Coasts.

Eddie had never spent so much time in a library than he did while trying to look up all those mailing addresses information.

For a few months, nothing happened. The band would sell a couple tapes at their local shows at The Hideout, but beyond that, their precious album remained relatively unknown. But they’d done it- they had an album! If no one else saw the brilliance of their work, that was alright. They knew they had something special.

Then one day, Eddie was at work (at a local record store, AKA the most tolerable (and legal) “adult” job he could find) when he got a call. He never got calls at work, so immediately, he panicked, thinking something was wrong with Wayne.

But Wayne was the one calling- and Eddie had a call waiting for him back at the trailer.

Eddie sped, a lot, but he’d never sped home quite so fast as he did that day.

The call was from none other than a relatively decent sized record label out in LA. They liked Corroded Coffin’s stuff, and they wanted more.

Years later…

Corroded Coffin quickly became a household name.

In the several years since the band’s launch into stardom, they’d gone on countless tours, played shows in almost every US state, and had even done several shows overseas in the UK.

They even supported Metallica on a few tours.

Jeff most definitely did not have to keep pinching Eddie the first time they met the legendary band, for fear that Corroded Coffin’s front man might simply faint on the spot.

The 90s brought all sorts of change, even for the small town of Hawkins. Though Corroded Coffin’s members were once considered the freaks of their town (and for one of them, a prime suspect in a gruesome “murder”), the band’s major success changed the tune for many of Hawkins’ residents.

Former-Sheriff-turned-Mayor-Hopper was so proud of the once deviants, he even had a sign added to all entry points to town.

“Welcome to Hawkins: Hometown of Corroded Coffin”

Every time the band played in Indianapolis, Eddie would never, ever forget to secure the entire group VIP passes.

Though everyone (except Robin) now had their licenses, the gang still opted to ride up to Indianapolis together, for old time’s sake. Nancy and Steve took turns driving, while the other made sure all the passengers in the back refrained from fighting with one another for the hour and a half drive.

Corroded Coffin’s gigs were intense, and that was not made any less apparent despite the increasing sizes of the venues they played.

Eddie Munson may or may not have been notorious for stage diving at the most unpredictable of times.

He did so once during one of Corroded Coffin’s slower songs and would have broken his arm and guitar with the fall if Corroded Coffin’s fans hadn’t been so dedicated to catching him.

Though Corroded Coffin’s type of music was not everyone in the gang’s first choice of musical taste, the concerts were still nice for all of them to break up the daily grind and escape for a night.

But Dustin always had the most fun at the gigs.

Every time they had a show in Indianapolis, Eddie made sure Corroded Coffin’s cover of Master of Puppets was added to the show’s set list. And each time they played it, he invited Dustin out on stage for the song.

Even though Dustin couldn’t describe the joy he felt in seeing his friend literally living out his dreams on stage, a bittersweet thought always lingered in his mind.

Corroded Coffin’s shows now were electric, grand even.

But Eddie Munson’s concert in the Upside Down had been legendary.

If only the world could know.

Most. Metal. Ever.

Part 2 can be found here.

[themagenamedsage]

I loved the first part of nothing else matters sm

thank you so much!🥹 that really means a lot!💙

-🦇

[themagenamedsage]

Can u please tag me in the second part? ♥️

Sure thing! 😊

~ 🎸

[themagenamedsage]

Nothing Else Matters (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: Season 4 Spoilers, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, References to Major Character Death, and Steve Harrington, who does not know how to handle his feelings. Reader uses she/her/hers pronouns. No Y/N used, though there is a couple uses of a nickname.

Summary: Coming to terms with Eddie’s death has been... difficult, to say the least. Unfortunately, Steve Harrington inadvertently makes it all worse. But they say that the universe has an odd way of presenting you with whatever it is that you are in need of...

Word Count: 5,550

A/N: Hello! @sallymakesstuff​ and @theforgottenmcrmy​ here. Please enjoy part 1 of our literal fix-it fic (which may or may not have the potential to become a series) for everyone’s favorite Stranger Things metalhead. If you enjoy, please consider following this little sideblog of ours for more Eddie content. And, if you would like to be added to the taglist for when the second part is posted, please feel free to let us know! 🖤

Listen to the playlist here. 🎶

48 hours.

It had been 48 hours.

Actually, it had been less than 48 hours.

Less than 48 hours since her entire world had shattered right in front of her eyes. Never having felt more powerless, she was forced to watch everything she had ever cared about burn to the ground along with the rest of the pathetic, cowardly town. Hours blurring together, yet maintaining a sick sense of individuality - each one that passed acting as it’s own unique form of torture. Each of them spent alone, faced with the soul crushing reality that the love of her life, Eddie Munson, was dead.

She had to believe Wayne didn’t realize what he was doing when he told the cops that he thought they’d both been in the trailer that night. She had to believe that it was said with the intention of coming to their defense, assuring the officers that he would never have committed such a heinous crime if she was around. But even if that were the truth, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that a literal witch hunt had sprung up- a campaign that she knew without a doubt had been spearheaded by her own family. 

Though Hawkins was in a decent state of disarray, she couldn’t throw caution to the wind. She knew her parents, and they wouldn’t stop until they found her. She had to lay low.

The environment she found herself in in the days that followed was almost horrible enough to elicit some kind of reaction out of her. The old house, which had once belonged to her great aunt, was still in utter disrepair after years of neglect. Actually, to say that it was on its last leg would be more than generous. But by the time the group had managed to drag her through the gate, it was the only option of refuge she had.

Someone had brought her some snacks - she can’t exactly remember who, but she figured it was Dustin, the boxes of cereal and pack of pudding cups sat unopened at the foot of her makeshift bed. The ache in her bile-filled stomach began to go unnoticed by the 24 hour mark. 

Each member of the party had stopped by at one point or another. Encouraging her to try to eat something, anything. Offering to stay and keep watch while she got some much needed sleep. But it didn’t matter. Once she’d cried herself sick, she’d become catatonic. Each of their suggestions only sparked anger from deep inside of her, as they were all temporary solutions to a devastating and permanent problem.

He was dead. And they had all left him there. She had left him there.

Before the cycle could repeat and she would once again replay each detail of that night, slipping into an endless spiral of her thoughts, the sound of movement around the back of the house grabbed her attention. The subtle yet very much audible shuffling immediately pulled her back to the present.

She would feel shock - if she could feel anything - that she was as reactive as she was, her body already going into high alert at the threat of danger. She took a second to consider her options. The noise was far enough away that she could easily flee. But she couldn’t help but hear Eddie’s final words echo throughout her subconscious.

I didn’t run away this time, right?

She was tired of running.

She glanced around quickly, and was immediately met with a plank of baseboard, which had long since broken off from where it had originally been installed. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do. She rose to her feet and plucked it up off the ground swiftly.

She’d never been one for weapons, or any kind of fighting really. But the events of the last few days had forced her into situations where she’d been given no other choice. In fact, as her fingers gripped the aged wood, it felt almost as familiar as the barrel of the shotgun that Nancy had given her following their stop at the War Zone. 

She looked at her with a glimmer of fear in her eyes. But Nancy was quick to reassure her. 

“You’re a fighter, Sage. You’ve got this.” 

And she would be lying if she said wasn’t up for a fight.

As she slowly stalked towards the sound of the noise, which was coming from the back porch off the kitchen, she braced herself for whoever - or whatever - she might find. She took a deep breath as she entered the room, and as she took a step forward, the screen door slammed shut behind the uninvited guest.

She clenched her jaw and tightened her grip, lifting her arms up just high enough, prepared to strike.

“Hey- Woah, woah, woah! What the hell are you doing?!”

She froze mid-swing, releasing a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Steve stood there, hands up, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, looking at her like she had two heads.

“Jesus Christ. You could’ve taken me out with that thing!” 

She narrowed her eyes before sighing, letting the baseboard fall to the ground. Steve visibly loosened up at the sight, his usual “cool guy” exterior completely disregarded as he took a moment to recover. 

“You can’t just come over here without telling me first. I didn’t know it was you.” 

Steve picked up on the anger dripping from her voice the second she spoke. So, in typical Steve Harrington fashion, he tried to ease the tension with a poorly executed joke. 

“I’ll announce myself next time. Maybe like a ‘honey, I’m home!’ Kinda thing.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

She merely rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I tried reaching you through the walkie. But I’m, uh, assuming you didn’t hear it.”

She shook her head so lightly Steve almost didn’t catch it. Looking away, almost as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

She hadn’t been very responsive to anyone who tried to talk to her, so it wasn’t very surprising to him. But he couldn’t shake this feeling that this interaction was different, specific. And although he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew deep down what it was. She didn’t want to see him.

Everyone has a different way of processing grief. And unfortunately, Steve Harrington’s go-to was to pretend like nothing had happened. Which normally wouldn’t bother her as much as it did. But when the mere sight of him made her feel as though his arms were still wrapped around her, forcing her to leave the corpse of her boyfriend - not even an hour after he’d died - to rot, alone, with the lifeless fucking beasts that tore him apart littered around him, she couldn’t help the sickening feeling his presence gave her.

To say Steve had been worried about her would have been an understatement. The idea of her sitting in that dump, alone, terrified him and the others. But her relationship with the group - especially him - was tricky, to say the absolute least.

“How are you, uh… how are you doing?” He began awkwardly. His hands on his hips, eyebrows knitted together in what seemed like a perfect storm of curiosity and concern. He then went on to ask the exact same series of questions that at least one of them always did whenever they came over. Do you have enough food? Enough water? Does your walkie need new batteries? But she just sat there, staring blankly at the wall ahead. Tuning out his voice as he spoke.

Steve sighed. Wracking his brain in desperation for something, anything he could say that might get her attention. 

“So, yeah… just wanted to pop on over and give you a little update on what’s been going on over on our end.” 

None of it mattered to her. Something about the Byers coming back. She never knew the Byers. Something about a girl she didn’t recognize the name of. Something about them being down at the hospital.

Max.

She knew Max. Max was her neighbor. She kept to herself most of the time and was almost always wearing headphones, but there was always something about her that made her stand out. Something that she felt was worth knowing. She never had anything against Max, she wanted her to be okay. But she just couldn’t understand that after half of her bones had snapped and her eyes were damn near sucked into her skull, after she had died for over a minute, how she was still “alive”. 

How is it that Max survived but Eddie didn’t?

“How is Max?” 

Steve’s head perked up at the sound of her voice, mouth slightly agape in shock that she had actually said something. But he pulled himself together, quickly adjusting his demeanor to fit the serious topic at hand.

“Ah, you know… There hasn’t been any change.” He cleared his throat, before adding, only half-heartedly, “But, she’s stable, so there’s that.”

She was no medical expert, and Max was in no enviable state. But she was breathing, and was most likely being overseen 24-7 by doctors and nurses, not to mention Lucas and the other kids, who she could only assume had been refusing to leave her side until they were forced to at the end of visiting hours. Max was alive, and though it may have seemed small, she still had a fighting chance. 

“That’s good,” she agreed before retorting, ever so slightly. “I’m glad she’s got people who can be there for her.” 

Unlike someone else, she thought.

Steve ignored her tone and instead opted to reassure her. “Oh, it’s okay. They all know you’d come and see her if you could. They understand your situation.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. For the first time since he got there, she allowed her gaze to meet his. Looking past that signature “cool guy” exterior, she saw just how uncomfortable he really was. But there was something else. She could see it in his eyes and sense it radiating off of him like the almost overpowering scent of his cologne.

It was guilt. And based on their interactions over the past two days, there was only one thing she could think of that he could feel guilty about.

“This is about what I said the other day, isn’t it?” 

Panic flashed behind his eyes, so quickly he hoped she’d missed it. But he should’ve known better than to think anything would get past her.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“Don’t bullshit me, Harrington.” She narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards him. “This is about the fucking memorial isn’t it?” 

Steve didn’t blame her. None of them did.

To her, the plan was fairly simple. There was no way they could bring his body back through to their world, but he still deserved a proper burial. All she had suggested was that they get some of his things, if any, that hadn’t been destroyed by the gates and pick a spot in the fields or somewhere else out of the way where they could go to pay tribute to him. The hero that had sacrificed his life for them. 

Every single time any of them asked her if she needed anything. If there was anything they could do that would help her in any way, that had been her only request. And every single time, they had ignored her. 

There were many, many reasons that Steve could quickly think up off the top of his head as to why it was a bad and extremely dangerous idea. 

She was still very much wanted for her supposed role in several “murders”. And even if the cops were too busy dealing with everything else going on in Hawkins to be actively pursuing her, Steve had no trouble believing a mob of civilians would take her out themselves if she were to be spotted. 

There was also the concern of vandalism. Said civilians were already defacing all of the missing posters Wayne had been putting up around town. They certainly wouldn’t waste any time doing the same to a memorial for a supposed murderous cult leader. 

“Sage…” His tone was laced with pity. 

“You don’t get to call me that. Don’t think that all of this has made me forget about what’s happened between us. You may have changed your ways as of late, but I’ll never forget who you were, Harrington.” 

Steve held up his hands defensively, well aware of his mistake. When he did, she saw something in his hands that she hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“What’s that?”

Steve’s eyes left hers and fell towards the denim fabric in his hands. He looked back up at her with a softer expression, and lowered his hands slowly. “Yeah, this… I realized this morning I still had it. I didn’t get a chance to give it back before…” He stopped himself, shaking his head slightly before continuing. “We can’t give it back to its rightful owner, but it’ll be in good hands with you.”

Steve held out the vest to her.

She probably should have hesitated, but upon the sight of the familiar garment, all decorum was thrown to the wind. She grabbed it quickly- but carefully- from Steve’s outstretched hands and drew it close. The fabric felt all too familiar in her fingers, but it made the stark absence of its usual wearer that much more apparent.

“Look, I know I royally screwed up our friendship. The way Tommy, Carol, and I treated you back then, it was awful. I was awful to you, Sage. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her eyes tightly for the briefest of moments, fighting the urge to have any other physical reaction to the use of the nickname once again.

Thankfully, Steve was avoiding making direct eye contact with her, and seemingly missed the slip in her composure altogether. 

“And I’m so sorry that you lost Eddie. I truly am. I know how much he meant to you.” 

He still wasn’t too comfortable, with the surroundings or the conversation at hand. And he was terrified of saying the wrong thing, especially since she was very clearly on edge. She looked at him though, waiting patiently for his next words.

When Steve finally locked eyes with her once again, he had no choice but to find the words and confidence to continue. “And I hope that having a piece of him with you brings you some comfort,” he said. Despite the mixed emotions she was feeling, Steve’s sentiment sounded sincere. “Especially since we can’t do the memorial.”

There it was.

By this point, it had seemed pretty clear to her that he wasn’t even going to try to see things from her perspective. He certainly wasn’t taking her opinion on the subject into consideration. Which was hurtful, to say the least.

She let out a bitter laugh. “No, it’s fine. I get it. I know you never cared much about him anyways,” she declared, oddly calm despite the anger that was steadily brewing inside her. “After all, he was just a freak, right?” 

A distressed look flashed across Steve’s face at the accusation. “That’s not-”

“You don’t need to defend yourself, so spare me any lame excuses,” she interrupted, not skipping a beat.

Steve nodded, not wanting to anger her any further, he let her say her peace.

“You know, I begged him not to go out there. Dustin and I had already gotten through the gate. He was right behind us.” 

She choked back a sob. The memory was so fresh in her mind, it felt like she was still there. 

“But he had that look in his eyes. He was determined that what he was doing would make things right, after everything that had happened. He wasn’t gonna let any of you die out there.” 

She looked him dead in the eye, tears rolling down her face. Not caring that her vulnerability was on full display.

“Don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing, Steve. Please help me put him to rest.”

Steve’s heart broke at her words. He wanted more than anything to just cave in and give her what they all knew she desperately needed. But he knew deep in his heart that it just wasn’t possible. He looked at her, defeated, before shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. You know I can’t-“

“You don’t have to help me. In fact, you don’t have to do anything else for me from here on out.” 

In a desperate attempt to regain her composure, she turned away from him and began grabbing at her belongings, with the intention of packing up and getting the hell out of there and on with the memorial as fast as she could. 

“C’mon, please don’t do this.”

Maybe he would consider Dustin’s opinion, she thought to herself bitterly. Truth be told, she wouldn’t even mind if that was the case, so long as the memorial came to be, one way or another.

Perhaps Steve just needed someone to force his hand on the matter.

“Why don’t I just go ask Dustin for his help, huh? After all, he’s the only person other than me who actually gives a shit about what he did for all of us.”

Nervousness steeped into Steve’s already uncomfortable demeanor as he feared her reaction to the subject that he was about to bring up. “Listen, I need to talk to you about that.”

She whipped her head around. Concern for the younger kid clouded her mind immediately, temporarily breaking through the overwhelming grief that had taken up the majority of her focus over the past few days. Her terse tone dissipated, and her clenched jaw softened as she implored, “What’s going on? Is he alright?”

“What? Yeah, no, he’s fine,” Steve assured her readily. He tilted his head thoughtfully, and then added, “Well, as fine as he can be, I guess.”

Whatever was on Steve’s mind, it must’ve been something pretty big. It was a rare sight to see him look so uncertain about anything. He paced around the room idly, looking anywhere but at her. Given the fact that the room was just about empty, his poor guise of trying to appear distracted by his surroundings fell flat.

“Look,” Steve continued with a light sigh, finally coming to a stop and meeting her eyes. “Nancy, Robin, and I have been talking…”

She watched him curiously, patiently waiting for Steve to find the words he desperately searched for.

“There’s really no great way to put this, so I’ll just say it. We’ve agreed that it might not be the best idea for Dustin to come around and see you anymore.”

It had felt like all of the air had been knocked out of her. She didn’t think she could ever feel more heartbroken than how she already felt. But the things she had experienced the past week had proven that the impossible is very much possible.

“What?”

Steve winced, raising a defensive hand yet again. “You saw how bad he’s handling everything. But yesterday, I made some stupid comment and he actually laughed. Can you believe that?”

Steve sounded surprised, but she wasn’t. People handled grief in all sorts of ways.

“I mean, the kid hadn’t even smiled in two days!” Steve rambled on, as if any pause would make him lose his momentum and motivation to continue. “What’s going on with Max alone is a lot for a kid to deal with. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with, really. And Dustin’s just now starting to figure out how to come back from what happened there…  And we think him seeing you as you are in your condition might set him back a bit. He needs to move forward.” 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Anger was bubbling up through her stomach and hot bile was crawling up her throat. It was only a matter of seconds before it all came to the surface. She watched with fuming eyes as Steve winded down what she believed to be his extremely misguided spiel.

“We all need to move forward.”

“You do realize that Dustin’s not a kid anymore, right?”

Maybe it was a low blow, making the subtle suggestion that Steve was babying him. But it was effective. The look Steve gave her in response was one of protest, if not one of hurt.

“He is, though,” Steve disagreed. “They’re all just kids. We’re the older ones here-”

“He saw someone die Steve. He saw his friend die. He’s traumatized. I of all people know it makes you grow up pretty fucking fast.” 

“It doesn’t have to be like that for him, Sage.”

“I told you not to call me that.” she snapped, involuntarily scowling at the use of the nickname that reminded her so much of the person who had once bestowed it upon her.

“Fine,” Steve relented, holding up his hands defensively once again. “But my point still stands.”

“He has every right to grieve, Steve. He doesn’t have to grieve only or Max, or for… him,” she finished uneasily, unable to bring herself to say the name out loud just yet. “I’m the only other person that saw what he saw. He needs someone who understands. You can’t support him the way he really needs.”

“But Dustin will have the support he needs,” Steve swore, suddenly sounding less argumentative and more persuasive than he had just moments before. “It won’t be forever. We’ll start with just a few days, and then we’ll go from there.”

She remained silent, still in disbelief of what was being discussed.

“If we can take some of the burden off of Dustin’s plate, even if it’s just a little, and even if it’s only for a little bit, then don’t we owe it to him to at least try?” he asked. “If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t you want someone to do the same for you?”

She had been in Dustin’s shoes… five, going on six years ago. And there had been someone there who helped her lessen the grief and guilt she’d felt. That very person would have been there for Dustin, if he’d been able to. And since he wouldn’t, she had a strong hunch he would’ve wanted someone else to be. 

Maybe Steve had a point.

But then again, this was Harrington. The same boy who said one thing and did another. The same boy who had a poor track record with keeping his word and being honest about his intentions. The same boy who she had once considered a friend, before he decided that he, and his reputation, were better off without her. 

That was five, going on six years ago, too. But the scars of those events ran deeper than either of them realized.

She looked at Steve suspiciously, trying to determine whether he was being honest about his motivations for his hair-brained scheme this time.

Steve stood steadfast, looking firm and resolute in his expression and posture. Whatever reasoning he had for this decision, he seemed to believe in it.

She turned, leaving the room. He was quick to follow, so she moved fast, and made every second count.

The mattress, turned into a makeshift bed, was set up in the living room. The walkie given to her for communication with the group was wedged between it and the wall. She made a beeline for the mattress and swiped up the device swiftly, before Steve could even process what she was trying to do.

“Henderson?” she spoke into the transmitter, eyeing Steve daringly as she did so. She waited for a response patiently.

Silence.

She cleared her throat, before clicking the button down once more. “Henderson, do you copy?”

More silence.

Her face fell. She tried one more time, “Dustin?”

Nothing but silence.

A glare returned to her face as her focus snapped back to Steve, and the realization of what he had done, based on the boy’s guilty look as plain as day upon his face, seeped in.

“If it’s any consolation, Dustin didn’t take this very well either,” Steve explained, half-seriously. “I thought he was going to fight me for the walkie when we took it.”

She couldn’t help but scowl. Was he seriously making jokes about a matter like this?

There was the good ol’ Harrington she knew. For how much he claimed to have changed over the years, he still lacked anything of value in the tact department.

“Get out, Steve.”

He did a double take. “What?”

Hot, angry tears began to cloud her vision.

“Get out.”

Steve looked at her appraisingly, as if trying to gauge her seriousness. “Listen, let’s just take a minute to talk this through-”

Through gritted teeth, she snapped, “Get. Out. Now.”

She saw the moment of realization as it flooded his face. But he made no attempt to move, other than the nearly undetectable step he took backwards.

Something possessed her to encourage him to move faster. With her free hand, Sage plucked up a nearby unopened pudding pack from the foot of the mattress, and hurled it across the room.

The pudding cup soared through the air, missing Steve’s head by about a foot or so, before colliding with the wall behind him. The packaging burst, and pudding splattered sickenly across the peeling wallpaper.

Wide eyed, Steve glanced between the mess behind him and towards her. He gave her one last solemn look, one that was also laced with a decent amount of pity, and fear, before giving her a relenting nod.

“I can take a hint,” he said meekly. “I’ll have Nancy or Robin swing by tomorrow to check on you.”

She said nothing in response.

She turned as Steve headed towards the back door, not bothering to make sure he was even out of earshot before letting out a frustrated, enraged shout.

The potential of someone overhearing them be damned; she was done.

Done with the pitiful small talk. Done with the atrocious persuasions to be thankful that so many of them had gotten out of the frightening endeavor virtually unharmed. And done with the piss-poor pep talks and motivational speeches trying to encourage her to move forward.

“We all need to move forward.” … How was she supposed to just move forward and look towards the future when the one person who was supposed to have that future with her was gone?

How was she even supposed to properly grieve when she had nothing left of him? There was no goodbye letter she could read from him, like the ones Max had written. There was no sharing her grief with his uncle. Unless she wanted to take the chance of being spotted and thrown right into a cell. There was no grave to visit, and there sure as hell wouldn’t be a memorial.

There was nothing.

She kicked another broken plank of baseboard with all her might, unaffected as the wood skidded across the old floors and slammed against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Enraged, she tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. Her knuckles began to turn white as she clenched her hands into fist, barely registering the feel of the denim material between her fingers.

There was nothing… nothing except the vest.

An eerie sense of calmness fell over her as she lifted the vest up closer to eyesight. She took a few steps back slowly. Once her heels hit the wall behind her, she slid down until she was seated upon the floor.

Her eyes scanned the fabric. For everything the vest, and its miscellaneous wearers, had been through over the past few days, she was shocked that it looked the exactly the same as she could remember.

There were the buttons and few pins, purposefully selected by him. She was certain it was only by some miracle that none of them had fallen off.

And then there were the patches. Surprisingly, he’d sewn them all on himself. Of course, he’d been most proud of the Dio one on the back. She’d gotten in a few stitches here and there, once when he took a break to smoke while he was working on it one night, and another time when he’d been too tired and frustrated to thread the needle properly. But for the most part, the vest in her hands was entirely Eddie, crafted for and by him.

As her gaze wandered upwards towards the collar of the vest, something beyond it caught her eye.

The kick to the baseboard had caused more damage than she realized. It’d broken loose one of the wooden panels running along the bottom half of the wall, which was bent inwards towards the dark, most likely cob-web ridden space, between the walls.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she set the vest down on the ground beside her. Taking great care to fold it gently before doing so. Then, she rose to her feet slowly before making her way across the room.

Once she reached the wall, she knelt down, inspecting the damage. Should her parents find the need to swing by the old house, she doubted they’d realize the broken paneling was a new addition. But she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of guilt- not for them, but for the home’s previous owner.

Her great aunt had taught her more than she’d ever realized. And now, she’d gone and damaged the woman’s once beloved home even more than it had been just at the hands of passing time. 

She sighed, and leaned forward, yanking the already broken paneling free and setting it aside. Immediately, her suspicion of cobwebs aplenty were confirmed as she took a closer look into the space between the walls.

Gross.

Just as she was about to ditch her curious peruse in favor of welcoming the ever-raining clouds of grief to flood over her once more, something made her pause.

That space wasn’t just littered with cobwebs.

She took a breath to brace herself, and reached inside the walls, blindly feeling around. Her hand made purchase with something, and since it was something that was neither slimy nor furry, she considered that a win. She withdrew the mysterious object, and flinched slightly as some loose dust filled the surrounding air with the motion. She blew the remaining dust off the object, and swiped away at the cobwebs with great interest.

It was a journal.

An old journal, but clearly a journal, nonetheless.

She immediately opened the front cover, mindfully slow with her movements. Just as she suspected, the writing inside was familiar.

She’d never be able to forget handwriting like that - especially not since it had taught her almost everything she knew. Additional journals and scribbles in the same hand had provided her with more knowledge than any books obtainable in or anywhere near Hawkins would provide.

But why hadn’t this journal come into her possession with the others? Why had a certain someone gone through painstakingly great lengths to keep it not only separate from the others, but to hide it?

She kept turning the pages, the aged papers beneath her fingers keeping her grounded and providing a temporary, albeit very intriguing, distraction. As her eyes skimmed over the pages, a glaring answer quickly jumped out at her.

… Oh.

One of her core beliefs, as instilled upon her by the same author of the morally dubious journal in her hands, was that there was lightness and darkness inside of everyone. Most of the people in Hawkins would have readily denied this logic. They loved their virtuous idols and figureheads of the popular religions, which they placed upon metaphorical pedestals. From personal experience, she had the hunch that maybe they loved being able to condemn anything - or anyone - even remotely different from them and declare said things as satanic even more. The majority of the people of Hawkins were all too quick to paint someone as good or bad. But she’d never been one of them.

The world was not black and white, but greatly varying shades of gray. And while she may not have believed people were inherently good or bad, she did believe that their actions defined just how gray one would be.

And the contents of the journal in her hands were dark gray, to say the least. Perhaps that’s why it had been placed in the space between the walls, its fate to be forgotten until her outburst of anger gave it a new fate.

As she continued to stare down at the pages in front of her, it was becoming increasingly clear to her that the author’s intention of hiding the journal was to prevent temptation. It was to prevent either themself, or someone else, from tapping into their own dark gray, morally questionable side.

And yet…

They say that the universe has an odd way of presenting you with whatever it is that you are in need of. She had always been a firm believer in that principle, but what she had just discovered couldn’t have been any clearer of a sign of its existence. The message was clear:

“Bring him back.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to the taglist for when the second part is posted, please feel free to let us know! 🖤

[themagenamedsage]

Nothing Else Matters ~ Sneak Peek

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, References to Major Character Death, and Steve Harrington, who does not know how to handle his feelings.

Word Count: 5,550

A/N: Hello there! @sallymakesstuff​ and @theforgottenmcrmy​ here. Please enjoy this teaser for our co-authored literal fix-it upcoming two part fic (which may or may not have the potential to become a series) for everyone’s favorite Stranger Things metalhead. If you enjoy this snippet, please consider following this little sideblog of ours for more Eddie content. And, if you would like to be added to the taglist for when this full work is posted, please feel free to let us know! 🖤

48 hours.

It had been 48 hours.

Actually, it had been less than 48 hours.

Less than 48 hours since her entire world had shattered right in front of her eyes. Never having felt more powerless, she was forced to watch everything she had ever cared about burn to the ground along with the rest of the pathetic, cowardly town. Hours blurring together, yet maintaining a sick sense of individuality - each one that passed acting as it’s own unique form of torture. Each of them spent alone, faced with the soul crushing reality that the love of her life, Eddie Munson, was dead.

PART 1 can now be found here!