withswiftieness

[withswiftieness]

'good luck, kid.'

"munson's don't do luck."

'yeah, well- i think you're gonna need it.'

and then al munson is gone, retreating into the darkness as the munson home burns down behind him, and leaving eddie to deal with the police officer bleeding out on the front lawn. it shouldn't surprise him, not after all the times that his father has done this to him, but after everything they'd been through in the last two months, after all the plans they'd made for once they got to california, he'd thought that this time would be different. wayne had tried to tell him, but eddie hadn't listened, and now he is left, once again, to pick up the pieces of his life that his father has shattered.

'i'm sorry, but who the fuck do you think you are just walking in here like you own the damn place??'

demona's voice brings eddie back to the present, but for probably the first time in his life, eddie wishes it hadn't. the memory that he'd been reliving was not a pleasant one by any means, but the reality that he was faced with is so much worse. it had been two years since eddie had seen his father, and in those two years he had made his peace with . . . most of the things al munson had done to him, and forgiven him for some of it. there were still a lot of things that eddie could not forgive his father for, like leaving him behind the night his childhood home had burned to the ground, but this, now, was already at the top of the list for unforgiveable things. he wasn't supposed to be here, not back in hawkins and not in wayne's kitchen, and the longer eddie looks him, framed by the light from the streetlight in the window, the angrier that he becomes.

'ooooh, got a mouth on this one, ssson!' al is slurring, teetering slightly, and the sight alone is sickening. not only did he barge into a home that is not his own, but he's done it drunk out of his mind, so much so that he's not even noticed the tentacles stretching across the majority of the front end of the trailer.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" eddie's voice is laced with a venom he doesn't recognize, and for a moment, he almost wants to apologize for it, but then he remembers how long it had taken him to get officer moore's blood off of his hands, and that urge is gone. in the hallway, the lamp flickers to life, then dies with a depressing hum.

'i came,' al swallows, taking a careful step towards eddie, who for once stands his ground, 'to seeee . . . my-' gag '-son.' he nods, like what he's said is all-encompassing for his reason for returning. once upon a time, eddie would have believed it, but not anymore.

"bullshit." eddie spits, fingers curling into his palms. "why are you really here, dad? don't give me that fuckin' excuse, not this time."

al is silent now, staring at his son for a long moment before turning his drunken attention to demona. he knows, and eddie knows, that he's not here to see eddie, but he's not going to outright admit that. he's going to do what he always does, and dodge.

' . . . you can be mad, son, but i never took you for having no manners.' he nods at demona, offering her that charming al munson grin that always wins people over. 'who's this?'

[withswiftieness]

this is not the first time that eddie has heard a noise from the darkness, nor is it the first time that he's been unsure if the noise was loud enough for demona to hear or not, but it is the first time that he's wished she ignored something that he'd said. they had been so lost in the moment just seconds before, back in a position that he'd only been able to dream of for the last two years, and it wasn't something that eddie was eager to give up for a little bump in the night. he fought through hell and back, literally, to be able to have demona back in his arms again, and now she is untangling herself from them without hesitation, crawling her way out of the closet they had been settled in. the action isn't as deep as his inner demons would have him believe, no, but eddie still does not move to follow demona right away, instead watching her with a defeated expression before following, using the doorframe to pull himself to his feet. she had heard whatever noise he had, and there was no stopping her from investigating it.

eddie can, however, outpace her, and he squeezes by the blonde in the hallway, putting her behind him as he starts for the front of the trailer. typically, if there was a fight to be had, eddie was never the first one to make for the front lines, but if he didn't, then demona would, and he's not sure he would be able to survive losing her a second time. he'd not technically survived losing her the first time.

of course, it could just be wayne, finally coming back home to see what remained of it, but deep down, eddie already knows who it is.

the couple enters the kitchen, and eddie's blood runs cold as his steps come to a sudden halt on the linoleum. from the look on his face, one would have thought that he'd walked in on a full-sized demogorgon in his kitchen, or perhaps even vecna himself, but to the metalhead, what he sees now is, arguably, worse. the man is leaned down into the refrigerator, the yellowed light spilling across the otherwise dark room, rooting around inside for something to eat (or drink?). he doesn't notice that eddie and demona have even entered the room until he turns around, but seeing them does not cause the reaction in him that it has caused in his son. instead, a drunk grin stretches across al munson's face, boot raising to kick the refrigerator door closed. his hair is shorter, since the last time he's been here, shoulder length now with twists of grey here and there, and maybe there are a few more wrinkles, too, but otherwise, he looks exactly the same as he had the last time eddie had seen him, right down to the shit-eating grin he's offering the couple.

'eddie!' al's arms open for a hug, but, for perhaps the first time in his life, eddie does not oblige. instead, he just stares, breaths coming quick and shallow as his head starts to spin. 'come give your old man a hug!'

[withswiftieness]

demona does not quite close the distance between them, but eddie does, using the hand on her hip to pull her as close as he can physically get her without moving her completely. his hands move, too, both to the blonde's sides, and then underneath her t-shirt. they'd not come here to do this, no, but this was also something that they'd often gotten distracted with as teenagers, too, so he wasn't complaining. it was normal for them, and after the way they had been thrown from one tragedy to the next and then to the next in the short time that demona had been back in town, eddie needed that normalcy. it wasn't even smart, to let himself be so distracted by demona in the same building as an active portal to the upside down, but eddie didn't care, at the moment. the only thing that he can find important enough to care about, is demona, and he starts to slide his hands up his fiance's sides, further losing himself in the moment . . .

. . . until, from the front of the trailer, the door bangs open, snapping eddie from the trance that demona has him in. his whole body jumps, a sharp inhale filling his lungs as his head whips to the side, eyes narrowing as he tries to pinpoint the sound, as well as decide if it was one of the ones that he needed to be concerned with, or if it was something that was further away than it sounded. this trailer park had always been loud, even at night, so it would not have been a wrong assumption for him to think that it was simply a door swinging open in the trailer next door. as much as he wants that to be the truth, however, part of eddie already knows the answer, if only due to the smell of alcohol from the front of the trailer that he's already picking up.

". . . did you hear that?" eddie whispers the words, but his voice is huskier than it normally would be, and his hands are still beneath demona's t-shirt, though their grip on her has loosened just slightly. he's still holding her, just in case this turns out to be nothing more than his heightened senses picking up a noise from far away, but he knows it won't be. their luck has never been that good.

[withswiftieness]

they had not come here for this. demona leans to close the distance between them in the closet, and the last coherent thought that eddie manages, is that they had not come here for this. they'd come to this trailer looking for eddie's uncle, so that they could tell him that eddie was in fact, not dead like he thought, and they should have left after discovering that he was not here. instead, though, eddie had opted to stay so that he could gather his remaining belongings and take them back to demona's cabin, so that he would have more than two sets of clothes to wear for the considerable future. he'd planned to just throw everything into trash bags, like he'd done when he'd first moved over here, but demona had insisted on finding the suitcase eddie had used for their longer stays at the cabin, and now they were distracted from their original goal even further.

eddie is not complaining, of course, but they still had not come here to do this. he isn't going to tell her to stop, though, and instead melts into the kiss, leaning back against the closet's doorframe so he can drop to sit on the floor instead of kneel on it. naturally, the movement tugs demona with him, closer to him now that he's sitting, but he doubts that she will mind. she's never minded it before, at least . . .

[withswiftieness]

the longer that the pair dig through the closet, the clearer the picture of where eddie had left the suitcase that demona is searching for becomes, and he realizes far sooner than he'd wanted to that the suitcase is gone, and they cannot find it because it no longer exists on this plane of existence. the last place demona had seen it was at the cabin, the weekend that she had left, but the last place that eddie had seen it, was going up in flames in the middle of his childhood home, along with his mother's records, and everything else he owned that he'd not already packed into the back of his van. he'd given it to his father, so that al could throw what little he owned into it, and they could throw it all into the back of the van and head to california the next morning, but the two men they'd stolen from a few days previous had found them, and that had been that.

coincidentally, the last time eddie had seen his father had been the last time he'd seen that suitcase, but he had no plans to tell demona that. doing that would mean he would have to explain . . . everything that had happened during those two months his father had last been around, and eddie had no interest in doing that ever. she distracts him from that train of thought within seconds of it arriving, however, and eddie grins at her words, hand reaching up to grab hold of her wrist, pad of his thumb rubbing the back of her hand.

"distracted? you? impossible. can't happen. never heard of it." his tone matches her own, suitcase and dirty clothes forgotten about as he stares at her lips in the dim light. "there's nothing on this planet that can distract you."

[withswiftieness]

"well, obviously, that's cause nobody was here to nag me about that shit." the words imply annoyance, but eddie's tone is flat as he watches demona crouched in the closet, digging through mounds of clothes and blankets and who knows what else. wayne had tried, when eddie was younger, to get him to pick up after himself more than he did, but he had given up when he realized that the nagging did no good. demona had tried it, too, when he'd started throwing his dirty clothes into the corner of the bedroom at the cabin with the intent to pick them up later, but that had failed, too. it wasn't that he wanted to leave things a mess, but he just . . . forgot to go back and pick up his things, or he could not find the motivation needed to sit down and actually put things away. he was either too tired from his shift at the hideout, or just sat and stared at the heap of clothes until he fell asleep, or had to make a run to a client. he'd always intended to clean up this closet, but he'd never gotten around to it, and now, demona was searching for something in it, and the likelihood of her finding it was slim to none.

and yet, eddie still trots over and kneels beside the blonde, trying to help her sift through the mess.

"also, i don't think you're gonna find it." picking up an inside-out t-shirt, eddie turns it right-side out, staring at the megadeath logo on the front before tossing it over his shoulder into the floor. "i haven't seen that shit since the last time i saw it."

[withswiftieness]

'you're here, I'm already home.'

and then demona is gone, trailing down the hallway and into his bedroom, still lit by a single lamp in the far corner. eddie sighs as he watches her, sitting for a moment with the gravity of her words, before turning his head to look at the portal on the ceiling again. somewhere deep inside, lightning must flash in the upside down, because the mouth to the thing flickers red, and so does the light in the kitchen; further proof that these worlds are far more entangled than eddie will ever be able to understand. the worst part, perhaps, is that there will always have to remain a way back into that place, if he wishes to continue to draw breath, and the thought sets him on edge as he watches the lights from inside, jaw clenching. if eleven closes the portals, everything connected to the upside down that is left in this world will die, and wheeler had meant everything when she'd explained it.

another memory flickers in his mind, this one older than the last.

it is the middle school talent show, when corroded coffin had first performed for an audience. eddie is crouched on the rafters above the auditorium, peering down into the crowd of parents as he searches for his father, when a scrawny blonde in a cheerleading uniform settles beside him, wrapping her arms around herself. who are you looking for, she had asked, and eddie, staring down at wayne in the furthest corner of the building, had said his father. chrissy had pointed out her mother, and when it had been time for eddie to go on with his band, she had waved her pompoms at him to wish him good luck, then climbed back down, leaving him to the darkness.

not what you thought i'd be like, huh?

a noise from the back of the trailer snaps eddie back to the present, and he shakes his head, rubbing both hands down his face before turning to follow demona down the hall into his bedroom. there is no point in dwelling on that now, not when he came here to do something. that something seems so unimportant now, however, as eddie enters the room, hands shoved into leather jacket pockets. it is . . . a mess, messier than he left it, but he doesn't care anymore. his bedframe is shoved from the corner it had been in, blankets thrown into a pile beside it, and demona is in the closet, rooting around for something, but all eddie sees is a collection of memories he can no longer connect with on the level he had before. they all seem so . . . distant, to him now, so human, and that is not something he is anymore. he's not from the upside down, not entirely, but he's not human anymore, either. in truth, eddie doesn't know what he is anymore, and he's beginning to wonder if he will ever figure it out.

" . . . what are you looking for?" he finally asks demona as he steps into the middle of the room, head tilting to watch her through the dim lamp-light. he does not, however, notice the shadow in the window moving behind him, bobbing up like its looking in the window before it drops down and heads for the front door of the trailer.

[withswiftieness]

"and for that, i thank thee, fair maiden." there's the slightest hint of amusement in eddie's tone as he watches demona take the steps to the trailer, right hand lingering on the front door handle. wayne has never, in the twenty years that eddie has known him, locked the front door, and he knows that he will not have done so in the time since he's last been here, but that is not the cause for his hesitation. he is hesitating, truthfully, because he does not want to go inside the trailer, not really. he needs to, if only to get the remainder of his clothes so he can stop wearing the same two shirts, but going back in means that he will have to deal with a lot of the things he's been running from. still, eddie knows that they cannot just stand here on the porch all night, and after a beat of hesitation, he turns the handle to open the door, and inches inside. normally, he'd have held the door for demona to go first, but with the portal inside, he goes first to ensure that nothing from the upside down has made its way through, and holds the door behind him so that demona can follow, but still be out of harm's way.

demona's safe with you, right?

as eddie steps inside, he turns his gaze up to the ceiling, and the portal to the upside down stares back at him, red, and pulsating and tentacle covered as ever. the tentacles stretch across the entirety of the living room, curling back into themselves once the reach the wall, and the mouth gapes in the center, though thankfully, there is a slimy film stretched across it that eddie has recently learned means that nothing has come through this way in a while. the upside down is a living, breathing entity on its own, and when it opens, it always seals the portals with this film to protect itself from whatever would try to enter it from their world. that the film is present now is good, though eddie feels little relief as he stares at it, visions of chrissy's body being flung against the ceiling playing in his mind.

you're not what i thought you'd be like.

mean and scary?

yeah.

eddie swallows the sudden lump in his throat as he shuffles forward enough to let demona into the living room, dropping his gaze from the gate. instead, he turns to give the remainder of the trailer a quick scan, searching for anything out of the ordinary. other than his mattress, that is now propped against the kitchen counter from where they'd last used it to cushion the drop from the upside down, everything seems as it should be, and eddie nods to himself, finally turning back to demona.

". . . i'd tell you to make yourself at home, but."

[withswiftieness]

APRIL 10, 1986

HAWKINS, INDIANA

MUNSON RESIDENCE

night was black, was no use holding back 'cause i just had to see, was someone watching me? in the mist, dark figures move and twist was all this for real or just some kind of hell?

music blares from eddie's van windows as it zips through the trailer park, headlights illuminating the gravel and dirt roads that litter the space. the sun has been set for close to an hour now, and the last swirls of pastel sunset dip below the tree line as eddie takes a sharp turn, throwing everything in the back of the van over to one side. he takes another turn the same way, and the things in the back go clattering in the other direction, slamming against the metal side before dropping back to the floor.

six six six, the number of the beast hell and fire was spawned to be released

the van comes to a screeching halt in front of the munson trailer, but eddie does no cut it off. instead, he sits behind the steering wheel staring, white knuckled grip unchanging. the last time he'd been at this trailer had been when they'd all exited the upside down, and he'd not stayed longer than the five minutes it had taken him to dump a basket of clothes into a trash bag and throw it into the back of demona's van, but the time before that, the time that is replaying on loop in eddie's head? that time haunts him no matter if he is awake or asleep, and likely always will. chrissy hadn't even screamed as her bones had snapped at every angle imaginable, but eddie had. he'd screamed and he'd run and just left her there . . . not that there had been much that he could do for her, at that point. she was already gone by the time his sneakers had hit the dirt outside the trailer, but he didn't have to leave her there like he had. she didn't deserve it. she hadn't deserved any of it.

torches blazed and sacred chants were praised as they start to cry, hands held to the sky in the night, the fires are burning bright the ritual has begun, satan's work is done

finally, eddie reaches to turn cut the van off, and the music dies as the engine does, bathing the couple in silence. it's not even been a full twenty-four hours since demona's brother had visited them at her family's cabin, bringing news that eddie's name had been cleared as chrissy's murderer, so it does not surprise him that the yellow crime scene tape is still stretched across the front and side doors of the trailer, but seeing it there, in the yellowed headlight beams swirling with flecks of dirt, makes his stomach twist, a knot forming somewhere in the bottom that is separate from the dull ache of hunger that he's been ignoring. this is the second time in two years that eddie's home has become a crime scene, and every instance of being compared to his father springs to his mind in an overlapping echo of voices.

"lazy fuckin' cops." eddie mutters the words as he throws the driver's side door of his van open, stepping out into the cool night air. it is a twinge warmer than it has been, and he can tell that summer is approaching, which means shorter nights and much, much longer days. the thought is not pleasant, but it is not one that he allows himself to linger on, instead fishing a cigarette from the pack in his jacket pocket and lighting it as he trudges towards the trailer, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. upon reaching the front door, eddie reaches to yank down the police tape, letting it drop into the grass so he can kick it aside, though the tape carries no weight and tangles around his legs instead, clinging to the leather of his reeboks.

"goddammit." annoyed, eddie kicks harder, trying to free himself from the tape, but it does not seem to want to let go. for a moment, he's aware of the irony of 'POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS' being tangled around his legs, but tries to ignore that, too, and finally leans down to untangle himself, tossing the wad of tape into the wind once he's free. it is only then, that he chances a glance at demona, cigarette dangling from his lips as silence settles between them.

". . . somewhere, there's a shitload of cops that would've paid money to see that," is all he says, flicking the cigarette into the grass. they'd come here looking for his uncle wayne, though it is obvious now, that he has not been here in quite some time, so there is no need to stay. however, eddie only has two full changes of clothes in total at their cabin, and this was his second day of wearing these jeans and this black sabbath t-shirt. since they were here, why not collect what remained of his things?

[withswiftieness]

austin nods in a final confirmation that he's truthful, and a breathless grin stretches across edddie's face, head turning towards demona with a look that reads 'holy shit, are you hearing this?' of course, he doesn't say it, but he's thinking it, and already a million different scenarios are flying through his mind, none of which are unpleasant for once. he's thinking of all the places that he can go now that he isn't going to be put down like a dog, and all of the people that he can visit when he gets back into town. the record store, for example. and the hideout for a shitty beer that's only halfway cold. maybe he can even start the process of finding his hellfire boys, since no one has seen them since the earthquake. eddie can finally exist again, outside of this tiny little cabin, and the excitement is starting to give him a headrush.

but then, like crashing headfirst into a brick wall, it's gone, and he rocks back on his heels in realization, a heavy breath leaving him. all of those places, with the exemption of the hideout, require him to be able to exist during the daytime, not the shadows of the night he and demona have been mulling about in. the record store closes early during the spring, long before the moon rises from the behind the lake, and looking for the hellfire boys will be much more difficult in the dark. everything that eddie had been looking forward to, he cannot do, and that deep pit of sadness is starting to swallow him again. and he's not all that determined to fight it. what is the point of his name being cleared, if he cannot visit any of the places he'd taken pleasure in visiting before? what is the point of any of this, if he is forced to live in the shadows his whole life?

what is the point?

austin speaks again, and the sound snaps eddie from his thoughts, dark eyes wandering back over to the male. he's asking now, if demona will be safe with eddie, and for a moment, the metalhead thinks the question is a joke. his expression even displays this, as he stares at the other, unblinking and unspeaking. no one had ever asked him that question before, but then, no one had ever needed to, either. demona had always been safe with eddie before. there was no upside down before. no vampires, no monsters from another dimension. there had just been demona and eddie, and they had been safe together, in each other's arms.

"cross my heart," eddie speaks as he mimes the words, a tinge of annoyance in his tone, "and hope to die, man." he's planning on leaving it at that so he can go outside and smoke, but as he starts to turn for the backdoor, he catches the look austin is giving him and pauses, studying the older boy's face. demona's family had never been fond of eddie munson, not from the moment he'd pulled into their driveway in his father's old work van, blasting black sabbath and wearing all black. they had always seen him as a bad influence, a stain on their precious daughter that wanted nothing more than to be her own person, and he'd never expected them to see him as anything but that. they had never cared what eddie had to say, never cared what he thought, and never cared what his intentions were for their daughter. as far as they were concerned, he was going to sacrifice her to satan, or some dumb shit like that.

now, demona's brother was finally asking eddie something that mattered, and he's silent for a long time, tongue pressing against one of his fangs so hard it draws blood. is demona safe with him, when he can't control his urges to pounce the moment he smells blood? is she safe with him, when the upside down so easily warps his mind?

is demona safe with eddie?

". . . i would die for her." he finally answers, this time with an intensity the other lewis family members are not used to. they are using to seeing the persona he'd put on at school, the freak for show to get people to leave him alone, and only demona had seen the real him beneath it all. but now, in the shadows of the cabin and the middle of the night, one more lewis finally sees eddie munson for who he really is . . . or at least, who he wants to be.

"she's safe with me, austin. i promise you."

[withswiftieness]

austin's words only cause the burning in eddie's face to intensify, and if not for demona intervening, he can already tell that he'd have snapped on the man sooner, rather than later. eddie doesn't normally let people's opinion of him bother him that much anymore, but there was something about the way demona's family, even after the near seven years since meeting him, hated him with a passion that outweighed everything else. they didn't know him, they'd not even tried to, but they hated everything about him the second they'd heard his last name. they weren't even from hawkins to truly understand the weight the name munson carried, but her father had heard enough, and made the decision for the entire, picture perfect little family. every single one of them, in their cookie cutter little lives, hated him just because they could, and that rot had extended down to demona's brother, too. he didn't hate eddie, not from what he could tell, but he'd never stood up for either of them to demona and his parents, so it didn't matter. he was just as bad as everyone else, and eddie wants nothing to do with him.

thankfully, or not depending on how angry she gets, demona jumps in to separate them, and eddie's head turns towards the fireplace in the corner of the room, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. he's listening to their conversation, but he's not watching them. he doesn't need to watch them to know how angry demona is, and he doesn't want to get in the middle of whatever it is she has to say to her brother. whatever emotions she's had pent up against him, she's free to let them run, and let them she does. she goes off, in a way eddie's only seen her do once when he'd had to drag her away from the protest she'd dragged him to, and he turns back to her cautiously, brown eyes fixed on her in silence. she's almost shaking she's so angry, and he wants to wrap her in his arms to calm her, but then he remembers that her brother is present, and he opts to remain in his corner, thumb twisting the ring on his ring finger in circles.

' . . . word in town is that hopper cleared his name of whatever horrible crime everyone thought he did. they made an arrest, and took down all the wanted posters i passed.'

eddie's head whips back towards austin then, curls spilling to one side as he does it. his eyes are wide, dark still in the lamp's light, but for the first time since proposing to demona, there's a spark of hope in them. from what steve had said, hawkins still wanted eddie's head on a stake outside of the town hall for killing, now, not only chrissy cunningham, but the little nerd that had been following nancy wheeler around, one of the basketball boys that sinclair had been hanging out with, and chrissy's shrimp of a boyfriend, jason. he's sure there were more names on the list that harrington had chosen to leave out, but now, in the dim light of the cabin, austin is telling him that his name has been cleared, and that jim hopper has been the one to do it.

do you ever feel like . . . you're losing your mind?

eddie's mouth is dry, heartbeat drumming in his ears as his arms drop to his sides, and the last bits of annoyance leave his expression. he doesn't even question how jim hopper has risen from the dead, he doesn't care. all he cares about, is that he's free now. he's no longer a wanted murderer. the town will still hate him, but goddammit, he's free from the confines of this cabin and the property that it sits on. he's free, and the disbelief in his voice is clear.

"he-- he cleared it?" brows furrow, and eddie glances at demona, breathless, before back to her brother. he knows better than to get his hopes up, but austin has no real reason to lie to them. it wouldn't benefit him in the long run, and if he was trying to trick eddie into going back to town so that he got arrested, demona would only hate him even more for it. no, he has to be telling the truth. it's too fantastical of a lie.

"who . . ." his head shakes. he knows who. goddamn does he know who. "holy shit."

[withswiftieness]

demona slams the door in her brother's face, and eddie laughs, not meaning to. neither of the lewis siblings are particularly tall or muscular, but austin is taller than demona, and watching her slam the door in his expectant face is, to eddie, the funniest thing he's seen all day. he'd probably been expecting to turn up here and be received with a 'welcome in' and a hug, though why that was, eddie wasn't sure. demona had never gotten along with her family, especially not when eddie munson had gotten involved with her, and though she'd fought less with her brother about her lifestyle choices, she'd still fought with him. they'd never been close, not like siblings should be, and him turning up here should never have happened, no matter how worried he was for his sister. he should have just called; the phone lines weren't down.

but as he starts trying to force his way into the cabin, and demona stands in his way, another memory flashes behind eddie's eyes, and suddenly he's eight years old again, hiding behind the couch in wayne's trailer as his father tries to bust down the door to get to him.

'you can't keep me from my kid, wayne!' his father had shouted, shouldering into the door to try and force it open, but wayne didn't budge as he leaned against the door from the opposite side, staring at the curly haired child on the other side of the room. al had been gone for nearly a week this time, and wayne had discovered eddie after two days of radio silence from his father. the child had been sat in the kitchen in the middle of a heap of garbage, trying to pry the top off of a can of spaghetti-o's, and when wayne had picked him up, eddie had cried, a wailing cry that likely still haunted his uncle's nightmares. he'd brought the boy to his trailer, cleaned him up and fed him, and they'd been sat in the living room watching cartoons for the last few days.

now, it was three in the morning, and al, drunk as ever, was trying to bust down the door to get eddie back. and eddie doesn't understand why wayne isn't letting him do it. this is his father, after all.

'wayne, you ssssssonuva bitchhh--' al slams into the door again, but he stumbles and pitches sideways, careening off the porch and into the bushes. eddie can see his silhouette through the thinly curtained window, and he squeals in surprise, tiny feet carrying him to the front of the trailer. just as he reaches the window, however, wayne snatches him up with an arm around his middle, and the child flails wildly, kicking and screaming and pounding his fists onto his uncle's arms.

"put me down!" he screeches in protest, but wayne does not release him, and he starts crying again, going limp in his uncle's arms. "i want my dad!"

a light in the cabin clicks on, and eddie snaps back to reality, wincing in the bright flicker of the lamp's bulb behind him. he hadn't realized that demona had been waiting for him to react before she turned it on, and she looks momentarily apologetic before she turns back to her brother, eddie's gaze following. he looks . . . unremarkably unchanged, since the last time eddie's seen him, just a little more tired, and not at all surprised to see eddie standing behind demona, in a threadbare black sabbath t-shirt and red flannel pajama pants. he doesn't say anything to him, however, just leveling a look at him across the cabin that makes eddie's face feel hot. it's a look that reads somewhere between disgust and exhaustion, and it's not unfamiliar, but it is getting old, especially from demona's family.

"hiiiiiii, austin.~" eddie grins, despite it, momentarily flashing his fangs before he lifts a ringed hand to wave at the blond, trying to act as though his appearance does not annoy him as much as it does. it shouldn't, its not even his brother, but goddamn is he tired of demona's family hating him for simply just existing.

"miss me so much you had to drive all the way back to this shithole of a town, too? sorry to disappoint, but your sister's already staked her claim. you can try next door, see if there's anymore charming freaks there willing to give you the time of day, cause, dude, there's definitely none here." eddie folds his arms over his chest, chancing a glance at his girl before back to austin, expression nothing but annoyance at his interruption.

[withswiftieness]

in truth, steve does not want to follow this woman into the diner she works at. she's just given him a bloody nose for trying to help her, and while some could have argued that it was only because steve had startled her, he still did not want to follow her into a secluded place where she could inflict more damage if she wanted to. this woman was not much taller than five feet, but neither was nancy, and she could be lethal if she truly wanted to. of course, there was no reason for this woman to be lethal, but steve's head was spinning, and all he wanted to do was sit down and make it stop. he knows, however, that if he gets back into his car like this, and if one of the police patrols shows up, he'll have to explain more than just why he's parked in the middle of the street, and he has no interest in doing that.

so he follows her, though with some difficulty, back to the diner, slumping slightly against the door once they are inside. it's when she offers a hand to him that steve finally fixes his blurry gaze on her, looking down at the hand offered with uncertainty. the last time he'd touched her, she'd punched him.

"mo danks," he mumbles around the tissue, shaking his head just slightly. she'd punched him because he'd startled her, steve knows this, but that does not mean he's all that eager to touch her again. he knows she's only trying to help, but he doesn't need that much help anyways, he thinks. he'd made it this far on his own, and after a brief pause, steve shuffles himself over to the nearest booth and slumps down into the seat, leaning his head back with a low groan of pain. his nose has probably stopped bleeding by now, but it's been hit so many times now, one can never be too sure . . .

[withswiftieness]

the volume of the knocking has sent eddie's nervous system into a complete crash out, and as demona starts for the door, he squeezes his eyes shut to try and get it to stop. overstimulation has always been an issue of his, and it had sent the boy into more than a few meltdowns as a child that had caused his ill-equipped father to start screaming at him, which had only made them worse. it was only when he'd gotten to middle school, and his uncle wayne had gifted him with a walkman for his birthday, that eddie had learned that loud music, oddly enough, helped to control those nervous system crash outs. no one, not even eddie, truly understood why, but it was part of why he was always listening to his music on the volumes that he was. the louder the guitar was screaming, the quieter his mind was.

unfortunately, he does not have that luxury at the moment, so he is forced to resort to other methods.

instead, eddie pictures himself back in the void he'd been captive in while the creature with his face had been running rampant across the upside down, and while it is momentarily jarring, he's quick to remind himself that this is a place of his own making, and not vecna's. there is a thin layer of water beneath his feet, and an indistinct light coming from no source, but otherwise this place is complete darkness, and completely empty. it had been a nightmare at first, the lack of stimulation, but now it was ideal for calming himself, and he pictures himself with his guitar in his hands, picking out a tune to nothing in particular. the chords echo in the darkness, enveloping the never ending space, but they are the only sound here, and eddie focuses on that, feeling his heartbeat slowing back to a normal pace. by the time demona throws the door open, he's managed to . . . mostly regulate himself, and he drops his hands from his ears in favor of picking at the skin around his fingernails, taking a steadying breath as she pulls the door open.

the moment she opens the door, however, eddie feels his heart drop into his stomach, and he pales, wide-eyed staring at the figure in the darkness. the only light is still that from the tv, but even then he can make out the outline of someone he'd hoped to never have to deal with again, and the wafting scent of cologne only confirms his theory. demona had come here alone, over a week ago, but now her brother had managed to find them, and though he looked overjoyed to see his sister, eddie can already sense the impending disaster that is about to unfold. for once, though, the metalhead says nothing, instead shuffling back further into the darkness, trying to avoid being seen by demona's brother. his friends had yet to get used to the set of fangs he was now sporting, and he has no interest in trying to explain it to his fiancé's brother, too.

[withswiftieness]

demona suggests that the noise he'd heard was an animal, and eddie shakes his head, causing his curls to further obscure his features in the darkness. with the lighting from the tv, his eyes are almost black with tiny pinpricks of white in the center, glowing from the tv's reflection. when she moves, he leans forward, head tilting just a fraction to turn his ear towards the woods behind the cabin, and he hears it again, louder this time, and closer. of course, he knows that she is probably right, that the noise he's just heard is an animal - most likely a deer - crashing through the woods, but he also knows that he will not be satisfied until he finds out the truth. she is not so mentally marred by the upside down, so she thinks it is just an animal, but eddie . . . eddie will spend eternity trying to forget the horrors he's seen in that place, and the creatures that it produces. eleven had put vecna down, she thought, but the gates she could not close, so who was to say that some of those creatures hadn't spilled out into hawkins again? it wouldn't be the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"no . . ." discarding the blanket he'd only been half covered by, eddie stands from the couch to take a step towards the window. for a moment, there is silence, but then he hears the noise again, and this time he's able to pinpoint it, head swiveling around towards the front of the cabin instead of the back. he glances at the walkie steve had left, noting it is still on, before back to the curtained window of the cabin, fingers twitching with anticipation. he's not sure what he's expecting, maybe a demogorgon to burst through the window, but he only hears the noise coming closer, and it sounds like footsteps in the leaves. but who would be here, at this hour?

eddie glances at demona, then back to the front of the cabin, edging towards it as quietly as he can, which, if he's being honest, is quieter than he expects. his reeboks are on a mat beside the front door, leaving him in just socks, which would quiet his steps, but it's an inhuman, eerie silence that he moves with, further cementing in his mind that he's no longer human, and never will be. as he approaches the front door of the cabin, however, eddie tries to push the thought from his mind, and leans close to the door, almost pressing his ear to the wood. just as he does this, however, there is a knock at the door, and the volume from it sends a painful reverberation into his skull and down his spine, causing the boy to hiss in pain as he stumbles back, palms pressing against both ears.

there's another knock, and eddie retreats further as the tv screen flickers on and off, shaking his head to try and shake the ringing from his eardrums. it does not work, however, and he simply stands in the darkness, ignoring the knocking, before looking to demona with a pleading expression. he doesn't care if she answers the door or turns the tv back on to drown out the knocking, he just wants it to stop, by any means necessary, before the sound makes him lose his mind.

[withswiftieness]

APRIL 9, 1986

HAWKINS, INDIANA

LEWIS FAMILY CABIN

the light from the tv flickers across the cabin floor in strobing colors, and eddie munson yawns, eyes glazed over as he watches the light, rather than the movie on the screen. he'd wanted to go see it when it first come out, but he'd chosen to wait for the tape to be released, and now that he was finally able to watch it . . . it could not hold his attention. it was no fault of the movie's, as it was something that eddie would have normally watched without complaint, but tonight, as demona is laid up against him in the corner of the couch, he cannot quiet his thoughts, and his focus is paying the price for it. perhaps he is just tired, he tells himself as demona's body is wracked with a fit of laughter from whatever joke has just been told, but deep down eddie knows that is not the case. he's not tired, not anymore, and probably never again.

and he has no one to blame for it, but himself.

it's finally my year, henderson.

bats screech overhead, circling like vultures highlighted in a red flicker of lightning. dustin's tears are falling onto eddie's face as he fades, darkness pulling him down, and then there's a whisper in that darkness, and claws digging into his skin as it pulls him towards it rather than the bright, beckoning light of peace. he sees a brief flicker of red eyes staring at him in the blackness, and then nothing. all there is, is whispered voices from the beyond, and no matter how loud eddie screams at them to tell him where he is, they ignore him, like he's not even there. and he's not, not really. something else is there in his place, and whatever it is will not let him go, no matter the fight he puts up.

a loud, echoing snap hits his ears, and eddie, back on the couch of the lewis family cabin, snaps to attention, dark eyes skirting from the floor and over to the bay window on the wall. he's not sure what direction the noise came from, or if it was even a real noise that he'd heard to begin with, but his body is tensed like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey, enough so that demona's head turns so she can settle her piercing blue eyes on him, which reflect the tv's light and take on its glow. he doesn't look at her, however, eyes narrowing on the cabin window instead as he drops the foot that had been propped on the coffee table in front of them. his mop of curls conceals most of his face in the darkness, but demona would be able to tell that he was fixated on the window regardless.

". . . did you hear that?" he finally asks, knowing full well that she had heard nothing. ever since coming back from the upside down, he's been able to hear everything, and while he is slowly learning to tune it out, there are moments, like this one, where he cannot, and asking demona if she'd heard the noise he'd had is the only way he can get his nervous system to relax. though tonight, as the movie plays on in the background, eddie knows that it will not be enough. something is out there; something has to be.

[withswiftieness]

spots and stars are swimming behind his vision as steve leans against the wall pinching his nose, and for a moment he feels like he might pass out, but it passes, and he takes a deep breath, and almost immediately pukes. the thing about noses is that, when they bleed, they tend to bleed a lot, and half of that blood drains down your throat and half of it ends up on your clothes. the half that's on steve's clothes is already drying in the springtime air, and the half that's running down his throat is making his stomach churn. he's already swallowed some of it not thinking, and the next time he spits it on the ground instead, regretting it the moment he does. the pain from the movement makes his head spin, and he's thankful for the brick wall behind him, even though it is wet and the now-wet fabric of his shirt is clinging to him and making gooseflesh rise on the back of his neck and on his arms. the blonde's voice rings again, and steve manages to crack an eye open to see that she is offering him a tissue. he hesitates at first, then takes it with some reluctance. it won't do much to stop the bleeding, but it's the thought that count, he supposes.

then she's suggesting that they go back to the diner to get him cleaned up, and steve, tissue pressed against his nose, just stares at her as she starts trotting off, lashes drawing in slow blinks. as she goes, he has a brief flashback to the last time he'd been in an alleyway with a bloody nose, and that only makes him feel worse. he'd let tommy h and carol convince him to vandalize the movie theater sign and the wall behind the building after he thought that he'd caught nancy cheating with johnathan byers, and when she'd confronted him about it in the alley she'd found him in, byers had, for lack of better term, kicked his ass. part of him had been surprised that such a quiet unassuming kid would be able to lay such a beating on someone, but at the same time, he wasn't surprised at all; those were usually the people that held the most violence in them. steve's face had been bruised for almost two weeks, and his ego much longer, and now here he was again, with a bloody nose in alleyway. maybe that was his fate, to always be getting a beatdown in an alley.

this time, however, it isn't johnathan byers or billy hargrove or even tommy h, that has given steve the bloody nose. this time, it is a short, fiery waitress that he'd only been trying to help when he'd seen her in trouble, and, unlike the others, she was at least offering to try and fix her mistake. she's halfway down the alley now, and steve turns, slowly, to look at his car sitting in the middle of the road, glowing in the red from the stoplight overhead. if he leaves it there he'll probably get a ticket, but he knows he can't drive it to move it, not in this state. he can barely even stand up, in all honesty, and after a beat, he groans and pushes himself off the wall, staggering slightly, before reaching a hand out to the opposite wall to keep himself on his feet. his vision blurs at the edges, but he takes a deep breath to steady himself and it clears, and he takes a fumbling step after the blonde, and then another, and another until he's slowly trailing behind her, blood still dripping from his nose. was it smart, to follow the girl that had just decked him, into a secluded alleyway? no, not it was not. but steve had faced so much worse, this week alone, so what was the worst that could happen?