Writing Quartz The Beloved

"Sometimes, the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose." (He/Him, Asexual & Transmasc, 23yo)

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Will I ever use this blog again? Maybe.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 030: Denouement.

Featuring Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley.

Mentions Will Byers, El Hopper, Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson.

1,045 words. Final day, and it ends with one that I actually like. Huzzah, I'm free.

There was a lot of stuff going on in Steve's abode. After all six of the kids teamed up to get him to host a small graduation party at his house for Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Robin, it got pretty rowdy. Steve made it out like the party idea bothered him, but honestly? It was mostly fake. Especially after Max woke up thanks to whatever bullsh!t that happened with Will and El that Steve would pretend to understand, but actually know very little. Again, he didn't really care, she was back and that was all he needed to know. He watches her talking to Lucas and Dustin about some new video game and they seem just as excited as her, which makes Steve smile. Finally some fu¢king peace and quiet. A chance to move on. Will and El had said Vecna was gone for good, which was another reason he didn't mind the celebration.

If anyone deserved a celebration, it was those kids. “Some party, huh?” Robin says, nudging the spaced out Steve on the arm. He blinks to try and regain his composure, and nods. “It's alright, I guess. Nice to think about normal things for a change.” She nods. “But we probably won't stop looking into every weird shadow, or noise in the woods. And be jumps of faulty lights.” She comments, folding her arms and bringing down the mood. Steve sighs. “Yeah, we might,” he says, gesturing between himself and Robin. “But if you think I'm going to let that be these kids’ fate? You would be dead wrong.” She grins, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. “I know you won't, just leave some care in that big heart of yours for yourself, okay? Or I'll be forced to do something about it.” Steve snorts, a small smile sneaking its way onto his face.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He says, waving a hand in the air dismissively. She nods, as if proud that her point came across the way she wanted it to. She then looks behind him, a big, sly grin appearing on her face. “You know, I think a great way to do that is to have a nice, long chat with Eddie Munson.” She says, pointing behind Steve, who swallows. “I think I would need a large drink of alcohol before I'm ready for that, and I have to make sure the kids get home safe and–” He stops upon seeing the look on her face. Her lips are tight, pursed with a slight dip of a frown. Her eyes darken, and an eyebrow shoots upwards. “What did I say about leaving some care for yourself?” She asks, and Steve scoffs. “Eddie's not–! I fail to see how that has anything to do with my self care?” Robin laughs, like full on belly laughs, which makes Steve eye the area surrounding them to make sure no one was paying attention. 

Everyone seems too wrapped up in their own stuff to notice him, which makes him sigh in relief. Last thing I need is a group effort teasing me, or worse, Eddie finding out. That would suck so fu¢king much. Robin frowns properly now, with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Has it really been that long since you've had a connection with someone in this way?” She asks, pulling him aside. Steve frowns. “What do you mean?” He asks, and she sighs. “You like him, right? You told me as much. Why don't you follow your own advice and y'know, get to know him?” Steve scoffs. “You and Vickie have similar interests, Rob. Me and Eddie couldn't be any more different. We don't have the same music taste, the same interests in general, and overall just don't click.” She raises her eyebrow, looking over at Eddie with a smile. “I think you'll find that you have way more in common than you think.”

Steve bites his lip. “Okay, maybe you're right, but I only met him because of this Upside Down sh!t, what if after this he wants nothing to do with me, with us?” He asks, and Robin snorts. “First of all, as long as Dustin is in both of you boys’ lives, Eddie will be in your life. Second of all, he's here, at this party, isn't he? It's only fair as his host to strike up a conversation, right?” Steve swallows, finally looking back at Eddie. “I hate when you use logic on me. It works almost every time.” Robin tilts her head. “Just almost?” She pushes, as if using telepathy to sense something more in his tone than someone else might. He rubs his chin, with a grunt. “I've... Never talked to a guy in this context before.” He admits, despite feeling stupid in saying it. Robin's face goes from teasing to serious in two seconds flat. “Oh! That's okay, Steve. I'm not gonna force you to like flirt with him or anything if you aren't comfortable with that. I just want you to say hi, at least!”

She grabs Steve's arm, and smiles. “Come on, I'll be your wing woman. I got your back.” Steve smiles back, begrudgingly letting himself be dragged towards Eddie, who was shifting his weight in the corner, eyeing the exits like the house was on fire. He sees Steve and Robin, and notably relaxes a bit. “Thank fu¢k, Harrington. I was wondering how long it would take for me to run out of reasons to high tail it outta here.” Steve smirks, with a light chuckle. “Am I not being a gracious host?” He teases, and Eddie scoffs. “There's only so much partying that I can take before my social battery dies. Not much you can do about that, though, Harrington.” Steve shrugs. “I can try.” Eddie grins. “Hit me with your best shot, man.” Steve chuckles, glancing at Robin, who mouths “I told you so,” before notably sliding off to talk to Nancy. She really just did that, didn't she? Just dumped me off, and slid out. Eddie watches her leave. “Think she's jealous I'm giving you all the attention?” Steve shakes his head. “No, she left because she succeeded in her ploy.” And I'm not mad that she did. He thinks, with a grin.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 029: Awake.

Featuring Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair and El Hopper.

Dustin Henderson and Will Byers mentioned.

487 words. So! Addressing the elephant in the room; this one is very short and kind of unfinished. That is because I wrote this one on the 28th, and have lost all ambition to make them good. Also, my knowledge of coma stuff is limited. But I like the blind hc, so that's what this is, even if it's very messy. (Sorry).

Max feels something grab her hand. Only it feels as if it wasn't actually touching her. Like a piece of glass was sandwiched between the two. She tries to open her eyes, but all she feels is a tightness around her lashes. She gasps erratically, feeling like she has a chain wrapped around her throat. Not to mention something pressed down on her nose and mouth, which makes her hyperventilate more.  She hears some type of mumbling, but in her foggy state, cannot discern what is being said. Am I dead? She wonders, before an odd warmth runs up the back of her neck. And a tension inside her releases. “Come on!” A voice says, much clearer than the mumbles she had heard previously. I know that voice. She thinks, before letting out a wheeze. “Lu–Lucas?” She rasps out, still unable to open her eyes. A chorus of gasps run throughout the room. She hears a beeping that she assumes is her heart beat monitor. 

“Max?” Lucas says, sounding close to tears. She swallows, but her mouth is dry. She grunts, trying to force her eyes open. She goes to move her hand, in hopes of giving a thumbs up, only to have a single finger twitch with no other movement. Sh!t, I'm really in a bad way, aren't I? She thinks, before her eyelids flutter open. She whimpers. “Wha– why... Why can't I s-see?” She babbles, tears spilling down her cheeks. She hears the heart rate monitor beep more rapidly as her heart plays pinball inside her chest. She flails out an arm, reaching for something, anything. She can hear Dustin muttering swears under his breath in a panic, and the sound of running footsteps. “I'll go get a d–doctor!” Will says, as the door squeaks in his wake. 

Max feels two hands grab her arms on either side. “Max, I'm  here, okay? Try to stay calm.” Lucas says, and she feels another squeeze on her left arm. “You're okay.” Max chokes down a sob. “El?” She asks, and she hears her best friend chuckle between sniffles. “I'm back.” El responds in that gentle and uncomplicated way she always did. Max sniffs, as she takes a breath, more controlled this time. “Is everyone here?” She asks, sliding an arm back in a sorry attempt to sit up. She feels a hand behind her back, probably Lucas or El's, push her to a sitting position. The bed squeaks, and there is a small dip in the mattress, as if someone sat on the bed. “I'm scared.” Max admits, with a shiver down her spine. “We'll work this out together. It'll be okay.” He squeezes her hand, and she smiles. “Did you seeing losers at least win?” She asks, and they laugh. “Yes, we won.” Lucas says, with a chuckle. Max sighs. We won. That's all that matters right now. We'll work out the blindness another day.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 028: Terminal.

Featuring Will Byers, El Hopper and Dustin Henderson. Vecna is here too, I guess.

Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield mentioned.

1,341 words. Disclaimer; this is just a theory that I doubt will be canon but I very much enjoy. Also, almost posted this on the wrong account again. (Someone help me).

Will grabs his neck, as a shiver runs up his spine. He's active again. He realizes with an unavoidable dread. He looks around the room. He and the party had decided to have a sleepover, because it's been ages since they have all been in the same place. Well, expect Max. When he learned about her coma, he was distraught. While he and Max weren't particularly close, seeing the toll it took on El and Lucas made him want to break down. He never wanted to see their faces that broke up ever again. It made him want to erase that monster from existence himself. And he would try his hardest. But how can I do anything? All I have done up to this point is be stuck in the toxic environment that is the Upside Down for a week, then have a shadow demon play spy in the back of my skull. I'm not cut out for this sort of thing myself. 

He looks around the room. Mike is sleeping on the couch, with Lucas half under the small coffee table in front of the couch. He can hear Dustin snoring from somewhere in the room, and he doesn't see El, but knows she must be here somewhere. Will  shrugs, and stands up, only to hear footsteps behind him. “Will.” El whispers. That would explain why I couldn't find her. She was right here that whole time. They share a look that can only be described as  sibling understanding. They both nod, as they creep out of the room, on their tiptoes, in the vain attempt to not wake the others.

 “What are you guys doing?” Dustin asks, standing in the doorway as if he hadn't been laying down and snoring not three seconds prior. Maybe he was faking it? Or has he really become that light of a sleeper since we last hung out? Will supposes that with all the Upside Down nonsense one would have no choice but to sleep with one eye open constantly. El frowns, looking at Will for support. Oh, right. Should probably explain why I'm up and leaving the room at this hour.  Will clears his throat, and lifts a finger to his mouth to shush Dustin, who must've never been taught what an inside voice is. “My neck is doing the thing...” Will says, and Dustin tilts his head with a frown. “Vecna is active again.” Will adds for more context, and Dustin gasps.

“And you two were just gonna go off on your own without telling us?!” He whisper-yells, making Will duck his head in shame. Truth be told, his plan didn't even include El, but she was here, and she wasn't gonna be told off no matter how hard Will might try. “He hurt Max. Need to stop him.” She says, and Will sighs. El always says things so plainly, and simply, it's a skill that makes me jealous. A guy like me can barely clear things up for myself, let alone come up with a simple explanation or thought process. Dustin folds his arms. “Look, I get that, but we work best as a team, so let's wake the others, and beat this son of a b!tch.” Will nods, knowing he was outnumbered. He follows El and Dustin back into the room, and he feels something warm run down his nose.

He frowns, lifting his hand to his nose. He glances at his finger to find blood on it. “Will?” El asks, before a gust of wind blows through the house, and he hears a chime. He whirls around, the house seeming to spiral and spin with him, until he locks eyes with an old grandfather clock. It has a slow, swinging pendulum and he feels the chill go up his neck again. Wait a minute, isn't this what Max said happened to her? But why not? He got enough victims to do what he wanted right? “Will Byers.” A bone chilling voice hisses from everywhere and nowhere. None of his friends are there, all the furniture is dusty, as if it hadn't been touched in years. “H-Hello?” Will says, scanning the room for the origin of the voice. This can't be happening... Not now! “You need not fear me, Will.” The voice says. “After all, you are like me.” A tall man with blond hair and pale skin looks down at him. Vecna.

“What's going on? Why am I here? Didn't you get what you wanted?” Will asks, making the man chuckle. “Mostly, yes. But unfortunately, Max Mayfield is somehow alive despite my efforts.” Will smirks. “Yeah, and she'll remain alive, as long as I draw breath!” He snaps, confidence coming from somewhere within him. Vecna sighs. “See, that's not entirely true. As long as the powers of the ‘sensitive’ kids exist, she can survive. And if you kill me, she dies, as the Upside Down and I are connected.” Will chuckles. “So what I'm hearing is El can bring her back?” He asks, and Vecna scoffs. “Not quite, as long as she is in this fugue state, she can exist, but Eleven does not possess the power to wake her up. She isn't strong enough for that. Only someone of my strength could do that. Only one who has truly touched the Upside Down; tapped into it, if you will, can free her.”

Will chews the inside of his lip. Wait, I've done that, with the whole ‘Mind Flayer in my head’ thing. And he said I was like him, right? Will stares at Vecna, his eyes steely. “So, let me see if I'm following this correctly,” he says, walking back and forth to think. Vecna gestures for him to continue. “You said that she can be awakened, by someone with the same power level as you, right?” Vecna nods, with a furrowed brow as if he hasn't picked up on Will's thought process yet. “And that they would have to have a connection to the Upside Down, yeah?” Any color left in Vecna's face dissipates as he catches on to what Will was implying. Will lifts his hand, trying to channel what he's seen El do countless times. Please work. He begs the universe, and Vecna slams into the far wall, causing a loud crash.

“You won't have enough time to get to my physical body! Your friend will die before you get to kill me!” He cries out, and Will grits his teeth. He could be bluffing, but can I really risk it? He closes his eyes, and he feels his neck tingle again. What if I use the inner knowledge I have to find his real body, and destroy them both? He grunts, extending his other arm out towards the door, imagining him dragging the body of Vecna to him. He's not going to win. He's not going to win. Will lets out a yell, and the light fixtures around him blow out, causing sparks to fly and Vecna gasps for breath. “What— what are you doing?” He wheezes out, and Will grins. “Killing two birds with one stone.” Vecna lets out one final gasp, before deteriorating  into dust. Will groans, collapsing to his knees. El and Dustin kneel down next to him.

Mike and Lucas must have awakened, or been woken up, as they run over too. “You okay, Will?” Mike asks, and Will coughs. “I think so.” Dustin sighs. “Bro, do we have to worry about people getting Vecna's again?” I sniff, wiping away the excess blood from my nose. “I don't think so. For one, I think I banished Vecna from my head, another being that I'm not sure that was even his goal.” They all start to ask questions all at once, like “what was his goal?” and “What do you mean, ‘banished?'” but I wave them off. “Not now, I'll explain later. I have something more important to talk about.” I look over at El and Lucas. “I think I know how to bring Max out of her coma.”

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 027: Afterlife.

Featuring El Hopper, Billy Hargrove (/neg), and Maz Mayfield.

778 words and apparently it didn't send the first time, so here we go again!

El stares at her comatose friend, who lays still on the hospital bed, the heart monitor beeping in the otherwise quiet room. She switches the TV to a static station and she grabs her cloth that she had brought, and ties it around her eyes. This has to work. I'll pull her out of her own head, and wake her up. El grabs Max's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before closing her eyes to try and look into her mind. When it first happened, she tried to see into her mind, only the result was an empty black void. No sign of Max's consciousness. But El wasn't one to give up, not when it came to her friends. 

She imagines the day she decided to have a sleepover at Max's house, trying to reach the spirit of the girl she was so happy to consider her best friend. She finds herself in Max's old house. She sees a shadowy form of Mr. Hargrove, and her mom, and— El's consciousness backs up, feeling a primal fear run down her spine. Billy. She knew she had no reason to be frightened, Billy died, technically he saved her. But seeing a form of him, staring her down sent chills up and down her spine. “What are you doing here?” He asks, as the shroud around him dissipates. El clears her throat. “Max.” She manages, through a shaky breath. He grunts, and looks at El with a deadly glare. “You can't help her.” He says, in a low growl. El swallows, trying to stand taller, despite the older, taller and dead boy in front of her.

“I have to try.” She says, and Billy laughs. “Why?” He asks, and El frowns. “She's my friend. I have to save her.” Billy shakes his head. “But she's a murderer, isn't she?” He says, leaning off to the left, as if calling down the hall. El shakes her head. “Max hasn't killed anyone. She's a good person!” El snaps on her friend's behalf, but it only succeeds in making Billy laugh louder. “But she is one...” He says, in a taunting, singsong voice. “She killed me, after all.” El scoffs, that comment somehow makes the list of dumbest things she had ever heard. “I didn't see her stab you.” She says, plain and to the point. But Billy takes a step closer to El. “She may not have struck the last blow, but she wanted it. She killed me by just watching me die!”

“LIAR!” El screams, throwing out her hand to push him back with her mind. He slams against the fat wall, grinning. She walks forwards, head tilted down, and eyes dark. He chuckles, as he tries to pull himself free. “I'm afraid it is  true, she wished I was dead.” There's no way that that's true! “You liar!” She screams again, pushing him further into the wall, making a Billy sized dent in the wall. He grunts and cries out as she lifts her other hand to shove him in further. “El, stop.” A distorted voice says. El freezes. She looks to figure out where the voice came from, but the scene shifts. El finds her in a different place, somewhere she has never been before, but on the floor is a taped up skateboard, a pair of headphones and a tape player. Her heart didn't want to believe it, but before her eyes was Max Mayfield, curled up in a ball, with tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“Max!” She says, her face lighting up like the fourth of July that brought these two girls together. Max sniffles as El comes closer. “Please don't come any closer.” She whispers, her voice gone. El frowns. “Max, what– what's wrong? I– I mean, I saw Billy! He said you wanted him dead! I—” She watches Max grab her knees and rock for a moment. “It's true.” She whispers, and El leans forward. “What?” She says, and Max swallows. “For a long time after I learned about the Upside Down and stuff, I was wishing he would die.” The silence becomes loud after that. El crouches down to Max's eye level. “He was a bad man, you wanting to be safe from a guy that hurt you and your friends isn't the same as killing him, okay?” Max sniffs. “You didn't kill him, and even if you could have moved to try and save him, what could you have done? You don't have to hold this in, you didn't do anything wrong.” Max sobs, before wrapping her arms around El. “Thanks, El. I needed to hear that.” El smiles, hugging her back. “Anytime.”

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 026: Condemned.

Featuring Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield.

Dustin Henderson, El Hopper, and Erica Sinclair mentioned.

802 words and no thoughts, only Lumax :D

“Hey, Max, you hungry? I found these in one of the cupboards.” Lucas offers a granola bar and an apple juice box out to Max, who chuckles. “How thoughtful, Stalker.” She jokes, taking the snacks and smiling. Lucas grins, sitting down next to her. “Well, there is only so much I can do to help right now.” He says, gesturing around the RV and she opens the wrapper for the granola bar. “You are helping just by being here, Lucas.” She grabs his hand, and he swallows. “I’m not sure I would have gotten this far without you by my side.” Lucas shrugs. “Of course, Max. I wouldn't leave you for the world. Anything to make sure you’re safe.” And she knows he means that fully. “I know, which makes this so much harder.” She says, rubbing her arm. “It’s just not my first priority.” He frowns. “What isn’t?” She swallows. She avoids his gaze, looking out the window behind them. “Surely, you don’t mean surviving? You gotta survive, Max!” He says, grabbing her shoulders, and giving her a gentle shake. “Well, if the world keeps spinning because I die, I think I’m okay with dying.” Lucas scoffs, and wraps her in a hug.

“And if you are my world, Max?” He asks, and she bites her lip. “I’m not saying I want to go. But even Billy was willing to die to save the world. It would be selfish to want to live if I could save the world and all of you guys.” He rubs her back, and she rests her head on his shoulder. “After all of the things you have dealt with, I feel like you deserve some selfishness.” She looks up at him, and he smiles. “I’ll do my best to stay alive, okay?” Lucas nods, as he brushes a stray hair from her braid behind her ear. “Promise me you’ll fight and you’ll survive, okay? Can you do that?” Max sighs. She wasn’t even sure her plan to avoid Vecna would work, but she couldn’t bear to see Lucas sad. She chuckles, trying to go for confidence. “Promise. I’ll go to my happy place, and he won’t hurt me.” He pulls her into another hug. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Mad Max.” He says, as he pulls away. She gives him a salute. “Don’t worry, Stalker. You won’t lose me easily.” They both grin. She closes her eyes, laying against Lucas. He shifts his arm to balance her, and her headphones slip down.

She opens her mouth to comment about that, but Lucas is already grabbing them, and adjusting them onto her head. “I’m gonna try to get some rest.” She says, and he nods. “I’ll make sure Dustin and Erica keep their traps shut so you can sleep.” He says, as he stands. He sets her down on the seat, and drapes a blanket that was hanging over the back of the seat over her. He tucks in the sides, and opens her eyes for a moment to see Lucas walk up to Dustin and Erica, and points back to Max. She watches him wave his finger in a way that reminds her of Steve scolding them. Dustin nods, as Lucas gestures for quiet. Erica rolls her eyes, but she makes eye contact with Max, and she swallows. She turns to look out the window, and says nothing more. Lucas walks back, and sits at her feet. “They aren’t gonna make noise. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right here, okay?” Max gives him a thumbs up, and presses her face into the seat. If there were even two people as thoughtful as Lucas in the world, the world might not be such a sh!thole. She thinks, cracking a smile. Not that she would ever say that to his face. It might go to his moronic head. She reaches a hand down, finding the top of his head, and she runs her fingers through his hair.

She can hear him chuckle, although he says nothing. Even if she was the one to break up with him, she really wished she didn’t. It was the right call, because she needed to work on herself, but she missed him so much. When we get out of this, I’m gonna have to ask him out again. And get used to going to his basketball games, I guess. I should learn the rules so I’m not completely in the dark. She sighs, as Running Up That Hill plays faintly in her headphones. I have to survive for his sake. For El, for Dustin, for everyone. But if not for anything or anyone else, I have to make it for Lucas. After all, I made him a promise. And this party takes its promises seriously.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 025: Scars.

Featuring Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson.

Barbara Holland and Nancy Wheeler mentioned.

1,031 words and this one took a few days to really get into the groove, but I think I got it.

Just as Steve sits down to maybe get some ideas or plans to stop Vecna, somebody knocks on his door. Who could that be? It's way too early to be one of the kids. And Robin would at least call me before dropping in. He wonders, as he stands up. He walks to the door, and swings both doors open. He frowns as he sees Eddie standing on the porch, staring at the welcome mat. “Eddie?” He asks, not expecting at this hour, let alone at all. He is holding a yellow sweater, which upon closer inspection, Steve realizes is his. He lifts his finger to point at the shirt, but Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. I didn't like, wake you up?” He says, shifting his feet, and wringing the sweater in his hands like a towel. Steve shakes his head.

“I've been awake awhile, you wanna come in?” He asks, pointing inside with his thumb. Eddie bites his lip. “If this is a bad time, I can leave–” Steve shakes his head, stopping the thought Eddie was vocalizing in its tracks. “Nah, come in. I wasn't really doing anything.” Steve steps out of the way so Eddie can walk into the house. Eddie exhales sharply, before stepping inside. Steve closes the door, and turns to look at him. “Okay, tell me what's going on?” He says, sitting on one of the couches’ armrests. Eddie turns to look at him, with a furrowed brow. “How'd you know I–?” He asks, and Steve chuckles. “Call it learned instinct. Plus, you disappeared from the hospital right as you were supposed to be discharged. Something is obviously wrong. Did Hopper find you?”

Eddie swallows, as he paces around the coffee table. “He did, and he talked me out doing something stupid,” Eddie says, with a pause. Steve gestures for him to continue, sensing a rant of some sort coming. “He then drove me back to my trailer, only when I got there, it was split in two. And Uncle Wayne wasn't there, and with the sh!t that has gone down there, I couldn't handle it.” Steve nods to show he's listening. Eddie scratches his head, and drops the shirt. “I tried to face it, but I chickened out again. And I walked all the way here.” He scoffs, running his hands over his face. “I couldn't think of anywhere to go, but I saw that dumb sweater chilling on my bed, and I thought of you, so here I am, I guess.”

Steve nods. “I'm not gonna say, ‘I know what you're going through,’ because I know that it doesn't help anyone, however, you aren't alone here.” Eddie frowns, tipping his head to the right in question. Steve gestures for him to follow, and heads towards the glass door leading to the pool and backyard. He sees Eddie shuffle behind him as he reaches for the door handle. Steve hasn't been out here in ages, he'd only been out there once since Barb, and that was to drain the infernal and offending pool, so he was sure it probably would look like its upside down counterpart by now. “Do you,” Steve starts, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump in his throat. “Do you remember Barbara Holland?” He asks, as he looks over at Eddie.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, didn't she die from chemicals or something from Hawkins Lab? It was all over the news.” Steve winces, and shakes his head. “I wish it was as simple as that.” In a sudden burst of courage, he swings open the door, revealing the unkempt backyard. “Wow, Harrington, you couldn't bother to hire a landscaper or something?” He asks, as he steps out onto the back porch, and looks into the empty pool. Steve takes a single step into the backyard, before not daring to move closer to the pool. “This backyard and pool is where Barb died.” He says, and Eddie gasps, as if realizing the gravity of the situation. “How did she die?” Well, I've come this far, might as well go off the deep end. “Well, it was November 1983, and my parents weren't home. So, I did what any irresponsible kid does, and got a couple of friends down here to have a party.”

Steve breathes in and out in an attempt to calm himself down. “Nancy was there, and she asked Barb to come too, because she was her best friend.” Eddie nods, probably just to indicate he was listening. “The um, party ended with most of us in the pool, and with Barb cutting herself accidentally. So me and everyone besides Barb went upstairs to put something dry on.” He rubs his arms in a self soothing way, taking big breaths to gather his whirling thoughts. “She decided to sit by the pool while admittedly me and Nancy were otherwise ‘occupied’. That, as it would turn out, was her downfall.” Eddie walks back up to Steve, as if sensing the tension in him. “You don't have to tell me what happened.” He says, grabbing Steve's shoulders as if to ground him.

Steve shakes his head. “No, she deserves to have this, since it was my house that she died at. I was the host, and I neglected a guest.” Steve feels a hot tear pour from his eye, which he wipes away as quickly as possible. “We didn't see it happen, but we're pretty sure she got attacked by the demogorgon, this gross, pale, faceless monster, and dragged into the Upside Down, where she died.” Eddie grimaces, as if imagining the scene in his head. “How do you deal with it? The pain? The fear?” Eddie asks, and Steve swallows, running an absentminded hand through his hair. “Truthfully, I don't. I have just closed the curtains, and left this area untouched. Like I said, you aren't the first.” Eddie nods, wrapping an arm around Steve. “But I am going to be the last! No one should have to hear scars like this, physical or mental.” A small smile cracks his face, as he looks at Steve. “And we'll figure this sh!t out together.” Steve nods. “Together.”

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 024: Distance.

Featuring Steve Harrington.

941 words and this one was a long time coming. I had the first paragraph written weeks ago. Finally sat down and wrote it out! :)

If you find a parent saying that they wholeheartedly believe that they had never made any mistakes in raising their kid, then Steve has come to the conclusion that you have found either a liar or a narcissist. Because every parent makes a mistake, some more grave than others, but no one is perfect. Steve's parents' mistake? Negligence. He hadn’t heard from them in months, and even when they were here, it was like Steve didn’t exist. And normally that was okay, but after the past couple days, Steve just wants someone nearby in his house. He grits his teeth, hating this moment of weakness. He looks at the barren white walls, devoid of personality or signs of life.

Having to pick up the kids for their various events really put into perspective the emptiness of his house. At  their houses they have nick knacks littering shelves and family photos along the wall, whether nailed or on a mantle/shelf. Plus the signs of life that maybe one wouldn't think of. Like scrapes on the wall, chipped paint, dents from rough houses, and the like. But Steve looking at his house he had come to the conclusion that it hadn't changed once since they moved in. To Steve, the house feels like it were an example house for people thinking of moving into a neighborhood and wanting to see what it would look like furnished. The only signs of life were the fancy couches, beds and small assortment of kitchenware in cabinets, hidden away so they wouldn't show the dust on them.

A TV sits at one end of the living room, collecting dust and somehow making the room feel more lifeless with its dull box frame unmoving in the corner. Then there was Steve's room. He doesn't want to admit it, but he knows from the people who have been in his room's faces that his room is pathetic. All he has are essentials. A bed, a dresser, a bedside table and a lamp. He doesn't have many personalized things, just stuff for school like swim trophies and basketball memorabilia. And those were only there to show to an outsider of the Harrington residence just how “accomplished” their son was. He scoffs at the concept. As if one needs to have a trophy screaming your name to be accomplished. Anything of value, sentimental or otherwise, was thrown into his walk-in closet, since whenever his parents did actually bother to come home, they'd demand he “clean up his filthy room,” as if his basketball under his bed was such a horror to behold.

That's another thing. The house is just too clean. Now, Steve likes a clean environment to live in as much as the next guy – no one wants a pig sty, after all – but there comes a time when one might be a tad too clean. Everything gets disorganized, that was a law of science. Something he had learned from school, and somehow had retained. But despite that law of entropy, the house remains the same. Never changing, aging, or chaotic disorder. To Steve, the house defies that law. It feels in direct opposition to it. Part of Steve always wondered what would happen if he left a mess for his parents to pick up. Would it instantly clean itself? Or would they demand for him to clean it up when they returned? He didn't know. He learned at a young age to not make messes for fear of being yelled at.

So he cleans. He leaves no trace of his presence. He ignores the voice in his head demanding something other than the bland walls and the suffocating void weighing down on his chest. He ignored the remarks friends would make on the place, biting his tongue when they called it out for the nothingness that it is. He knew, better than they could ever understand. But despite living here, he felt like an outsider. He felt that if he moved anything an inch out of place, he was disrespecting a space he should be making his home. But he also knows that four walls and a roof do not equal a home. His home was elsewhere. It was with the people he loves, the loud bustling of the Wheeler's house, the polite quiet of the Sinclair's house, the simplicity of the Mayfield's house, the safety of the Byers-Hopper's house, and especially the warmth of the Henderson's house. 

Those were what made a house a home. And he knows he couldn't be more blessed that these families welcome him into their homes, and beyond that barrier of separation. The viewing of the little moments one would reserve for family only to see in plain view. He was grateful for it, even if it left a small chill inside him that he never got that as a kid. No random affection, no attention at all. If anything, he felt ignored. He felt excluded. He felt neglected. Which he supposed made sense, with the distance his parents always put between them and him. Whether it was physically or emotionally, he feels like he never connected with his parents. That he never knew them. And that is the scariest revelation to Steve. They pushed him away to do whatever the hell they do on those business trips and he didn't know them, not one bit. They can keep their distance for all I care. He thinks, feeling bitter. I have a real family now, and it's way bigger than those two neglectors. I'll stick with the people who have shown they actually care about me. That sounds like a better plan.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 023: Splinter.

Featuring Eddie Munson.

Steve Harrington mentioned.

1,231 words and dang, I'm actually proud of myself for this one. It was therapeutic in a way I couldn't explain to someone outside my mind.

“Maybe this won't be so bad.” He had said before, but looking at his house splintered from the inside out, only really visible inside the house though. Looking at the mess that crack in the ceiling that took that poor girl Chrissy and caused all this mess, he is struggling to agree with his past self. Where's Uncle Wayne? He didn't die, did he... He looks around for a sign of where he could be, panic building in him. He frowns upon realizing he can only really reach half of the trailer, so he turns and leaves, rubbing his arms. Can't run away, can't go home. My uncle is gone, and I have no place I feel safe to go to. Where else can I go? He asks himself, the urge to pull out another cigarette gnawing at his insides like a termite on a wooden frame.

He listens as the crickets chirp their song, the constant repeating sounds pulling Eddie into further his spiral. It makes his world spin, as he becomes aware of the time passing with every chirp. He falls to his knees, grabbing his ears to try and block out the noise from the tiny, but unfortunately at this time of night, very loud insects. But the more he tries to shut them out, the louder they seem to get. He feels his heartbeat in his chest, another reminder that time is flowing. Time is both moving too fast, and inching along too slowly. He opens his mouth to scream, wanting to let out his anxieties in one fell swoop, but he knows that that would just lead to angry neighbors yelling at him to shut up. The last thing I need is more angry neighbors.

He looks back at the house, and sighs. I have to face it sometime. He marches back inside, and walks past the crack that snakes its merry way across his trailer's ceiling. He manages to get to his room, and on the floor is a yellow sweater. Steve's sweater. He wasn't quite sure how it got into his room, but there it was. On his bed like it was a pedestal of honor. He scoffs at the thought, but despite the absurdity of it, he gains a sense of calm. I should probably return that to him. He smiles.  The shirt gave him a reason to leave this place. He has my denim vest too, so maybe we could do a swap. Granted, he didn't know exactly where Steve lived, just that he was up Loch Nora in the rich boy neighborhood. But that didn't really matter to Eddie. I can face this another day. Right now I can excuse my way out of dealing with this demon. He swipes the shirt off the bed, and walks out the door. I guess it's off to see the ex- jock. He nods to himself, before jogging out the door.

He nods as he makes his way down the dirt path. This is a good plan. Because maybe he knows where Wayne is. Hopper said he was worried about me, which I guess means he's alive... But where would he be if not at home? He sighs, trudging his way through the woods Hopper literally just drove past to get him back to that trailer park. It's for the best. He decides to tell himself. A lie, perhaps, but it was the only keeping him sane right at this moment. After all, if you keep a goal in mind, you can hone in on it exclusively and never have to think about the potential issues and side effects the goal may have on you. He shivers as a late night wind gust blows past him, but he pushes forward. Just need to get to Steve's house. Once I'm there, I'll form a better plan. He squints in the light from the street lamp to find he was actually a lot closer to Loch Nora than he had first believed.

Let's hope no rich, old geezers see me trampling about in their neighborhood. That would be bad. He turns the corner, dragging his feet and pulling his jacket against the wind hitting him sideways in the cold and dark forest. After what he was sure was hours of walking, he spies the sign that indicates one of the entrances to Loch Nora. He smiles. I've made it this far. I can push forward if it means I get somewhere. As he enters and there are fewer trees, he realizes the sun is tearing its face over the east side, bringing light to a new day. Well, that's a little too symbolic and on the nose for an individual such as myself, but worth noting, I suppose. He steps up onto the sidewalk, relieved to have solid ground to stand on after hours of mushy dirt and clumps of long grass rubbing against his ankles. He walks around, watching a couple of cars leaving for work.

They must think I'm some crazed psycho, breathing heavily, holding a yellow sweater and waltzing around a neighborhood much too fancy for the likes of me. He thinks, as he stops in front of one of the houses on this cul-de-sac. In the driveway, a familiar maroon bmw sits and he drops to his knees. He feels his legs, especially his knees, complain at the fall due to the concrete beneath them, but he doesn't care. He made it here. He found his way here. He bites his lip. Steve might have work soon. Maybe he's awake, but do I want to disturb him? What if he's still asleep? He sighs. Now that he was in sight of his goal, he could work out the details. Just like I planned it. He stands, checking his knees for scrapes as they still feel a little sore. Once he was satisfied with the fact that he hadn't skinned his knees, he looked back at the house.

The only way to know if Steve was awake and/or on his way to going to work, was to check for himself. He swallows, gathering his courage. Okay, the goal was to get to Steve's house. Now? To knock on Steve's door. Don't think, just do. Details come after. We push forward because we can't go backwards now. He nods, having sufficiently motivated himself, and he marches across the street, looking both ways, of course,  before walking up the long driveway to Steve's door. He steps one foot onto the porch, and pauses. He looks back across the street, and grits his teeth. I've made it too far to run away now. Time to face something, even if it may not be the thing I'm supposed to be facing right now. Better this than nothing at all. He walks up to the double doors with the fancy knocker, (which he scoffs at), before lifting his hand to knock. He takes a deep breath in, and gives the door a quick, but firm rap on the door. He steps back, waiting for the door to open. This is the last chance to ditch this plan. He realizes. Once Steve opens that door, he is stuck with it. He plants his feet. Screw running, I'm tired of it. Time to stand just a little bit stronger. Time to face the world I tried to run from.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 022: Truth.

Featuring Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

Nancy Wheeler and Eddie Munson mentioned.

1,282 words. This one flowed out WAY easier than yesterday's and the day before's like holy toledo.

Robin looks at the door leading to Steve's house, and swallows. He said he needed to talk to me, but only in person. I walked all the way over here, so it better be worth it. She lifts her hand to knock on the door, and as if he was hovering over the door, it swings open as she manages to get one rap on the door. He sighs once he sees her. “Robin!” He says, panting. Maybe he wasn't standing right beside the door? She smiles at him, trying to make herself feel less jittery about whatever is going on here. “You said you wanted to speak with me?” She asks, and he grabs her arm, pulling her inside. “We'll talk upstairs.” He says, looking out the door as if he were worried someone saw her standing there.

“Did something happen? Do we need to call the others?” She asks, figuring maybe Vecna reared his ugly head again. He closes the door, and shakes his head. “Everything is fine. I just need to talk.” Not having any other way of getting information out of her best friend, she makes her way up the stairs. He follows behind, rubbing his hands together and looking down at the stairs below him with an attention that indicated something more interesting than the normal @ss stairs they were. When they reach the top of the stairs, Robin stops with a frown. I've never been up here before. I mean, I have been to Steve's house, but he always has insisted I stay downstairs as much as possible.

“Take a left, that door is my room.” He says, pointing to a door that had no defining marks of life on it. She nods, walking up to the door. Truth be told, the few times she'd been here to watch movies or just chat she always felt like the house was a shade to light, or a touch to perfect. She shudders. The colors seem to be drained from the house, like they were squashed in a juice maker. And when she opens the door to his room, she is saddened to find it also devoid of life. All that resides in his room is his bed, a lamp on a bedside table, a tall mirror (which is covered by a blanket), and a dresser. With a door coming off which she figured was for a bathroom. Overall, if someone had told her this was the unused guest bedroom, she'd believe them. “Not much, but it's a place to sleep.” He says, as he shuts the door.

She walks over to the bed, and sits down. She crosses her arms across her lap, and looks over at him. He's standing like a statue. ”What's going on, Steve? Talk to me.” He chews at his lip, running a hand through his hair. He doesn't respond, choosing to look over at the curtained off window. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” She tires again, and he sits on the floor by the door. He takes a deep breath in, and counts down from ten using his fingers. What could he be nervous to talk to me about? He tells me everything, and I tell him everything about me. “Steve?” She asks again, and he sighs. “Robin, can I ask a pretty personal question?” He asks, finally saying something. She shrugs. “Sure, what's up?” He picks at the shaggy carpet below him, yanking at looser pieces. “How did you know you liked girls?”

She blinks. Okay, not what I was expecting to hear or talk about today, but here we are. “I think a part of me always knew. I never understood why guys were considered attractive. I mean, I knew what people consider to be attractive, but was never attracted to one personally. It wasn't until I saw Tammy Thompson that I realized why.” He snorts at the mention of Tammy Thompson, and she rolls her eyes. “Hey, she's pretty and I stand by that. Sure, she sings like a Muppet, but she is pretty, alright?!” He chuckles, raising his hands in surrender. “Right, okay.” He says, and she leans forward. There aren't too many reasons why he would ask about that. Guess now's my chance to discuss the whole “maybe liking Eddie” thing. “Why do you ask?” She prompts, letting him take his time. After all, it took her a long time to come to terms with her identity.

He looks up at her, and clasps his hands. “You um, remember when you me, Nance and Eddie did that movie night thing here?” Robin nods, it was a good night. She got to ride there and back with Nancy and that was fun in itself. But hanging out with the three of them and watching one of her favorite movies was even more fun. “Yeah, you remember how I spaced out for a bit?” She gasps. “I knew there was something wrong.” She says, cutting in. He waves his hands in the air, shaking his head. “No, it wasn't anything bad! I just, I couldn't tell you why, but I hadn't been watching the movie, and was more focused on what Eddie's rings looked like...” She raises her eyebrows. Oh, sh!t. He does have a thing for Eddie then. Let's be delicate here though. “So you were staring at his rings, there's nothing wrong with that. They're dope as hell.” He nods. “Right, but after you guys pulled me out of the trance I was under regarding the rings, he was looking at me when I glanced back. Hell, he seemed to move closer and I know how to identify a crush, but—”

He stops himself short, shaking his head. “I've never had interest in a guy before now.” He says it like that's a bad thing, like he should have been liking boys this whole time. “Sometimes it takes longer, Steve. And it's not like you aren't allowed to like girls and boys, right?” He nods. “No, I know I can. But I can't help but feel like I'm faking an interest in him, since he looks like he may have an interest in me.” Robin slides off the bed, and sits down next to him. “You aren't faking anything, Steve. No straight guy stares at another dude's hand for half a movie. Besides, if he does have an interest in you, and you're showing interest back, that just sounds like mutual pining, not fake interest.” He pulls his legs up to his chest, and Robin pats his back.

“You aren't broken for this, y'know. It's okay for you to like him. You're allowed to like him. He's a cool dude.” Steve smiles at that. “Ha, a lesbian trying to explain why a dude is good.” She smacks him, with a grin. “I mean, again, just because I'm not into guys, does not mean I don't know what people might find attractive. Also, I want a gay friend that understands the little things.” He rolls his eyes, but he is smiling. “I'm only like half gay, you okay with that?” He jokes and she laughs. “As long as you are okay with that identity, yes, I am.” He sighs. “Thanks, Rob. I needed to get that off my chest.” She smiles. “My pleasure, Steve. I am happy to help you through the crisis that is the queer life experience.” She gives him back another pat. “Thanks for telling me. I know saying the truth aloud is not easy.” He shrugs. “Knowing you went through a similar change,  makes it easier to admit.” She wraps her arms around him with a smile. “Good.”

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 021: Promise.

485 words with little spoilers, but still there, I guess?

El sits on the floor, as her dad, Chief Jim Hopper, stares blankly at an instruction booklet. He scratches his head. “It just doesn't make sense!” He says, grabbing one of the drawers. They have been remodeling the cabin, but there's only so many pieces of furniture Hopper can build without going insane. “Where does this piece even go?” El giggles, and holds her hand out. “Can I see it?” She asks, and Hopper scoffs. “No. I can figure this out!” He says, holding his fingers up. El glances at the clock on her dusty nightstand.

“Twelve-thirty?” She says, knowing that they've been working on this step for at least fifteen minutes. Hopper groans. “I got it, five more min—” She swipes the instructions, and squints at them for a moment, before grabbing the screwdriver, and screws. She sets the pieces together, and presses the screw in. “You know what you're doing?” She nods. “Will and I built one in Lenora.” She explains, as she screws the final one in. Hopper bites his lip. “You miss California?” He asks, and El’s mind drifts to Angela, and the Roller Skate Incident at the Skate-O-Mania, and swallows.

She hadn't earned up the courage to mention the assault charge, or the bullying, and Mike and Will hadn't bothered to mention it either. She wasn't too broken up about hitting her, but she didn't want Hopper to be mad at her for it. “No.” She decides. “Mike is here, and Max...” She sniffs, thinking about how Max died but El refused to let her go, so now she's in a coma. Hopper swallows, rubbing her chest just below the collarbone. “And everyone.” She gestures vaguely. 

Hopper ruffles her hair, and she feels his nails scratch against her scalp. “I missed you too, kiddo.” She wraps him in a hug, and he chortles. “Promise you won't leave again.” She says, gripping his shirt like he'd disappear if she let go. He kisses the top of her head, and massages her shoulder with his fingers. “I Promise.” He whispers, as she nuzzles herself closer to him. He scoops up the instructions, and holds them for her to see. “Let's finish this, and then I'll make us some lunch.” She looks up at him, with an eager look sparkling her eyes. “Eggos?” She asks, and Hopper taps the paper to his leg. “You can have some, but you gotta eat some real food too, okay?”

She nods. And after another twenty minutes, they finish the dresser. She slides the final drawer, and wipes her brow. She turns to look up at Hopper. “Now can I have Eggos?” She asks, and he nods. “Make sure you wash up, but I'm gonna start making lunch, alright?” She walks over to the bathroom, and looks at herself in the mirror. She touches her hair, feeling the warmth of her own fingers, and sighs. I'm home.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 020: Unlucky.

Featuring Steve Harrington.

Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler mentioned.

672 words. This may be my shortest one. I am not happy with it, tbh. If you hate one, know I do too.

Last night Steve dreamt he was fighting monsters again. You would think that by now he would be used to it, or unphased by it, but even after four years, he still wakes up in a cold sweat anyway. He pants as he runs a hand through his hair. This has to die down sometime right? He asks himself, with a groan. Surely when I'm forty I'm not gonna wake up and reach for my nail bat because I heard a screech in my dreams. Steve scoffs, as he sits up in his bed. Who am I kidding? I'm never making it to forty so why even worry about whether I get nightmares about these monsters then? He scoffs, looking at his shadow in the light of his lamp he keeps on his nightstand. It shines against the far wall, shining against the bare minimum of a room.

He shakes his head, climbing out of bed. I need to clear my head. He looks at his clock, and groans. 3:07 am. Guess I am doing a very early start today. To be honest, he had a lot of early starts recently. And they keep getting earlier. He walks down the stairs, opting to get a glass of water and maybe some food if he was actually gonna wake up this early. What am I gonna do this early? I don't even have a job anymore thanks to that “earthquake” that wizard freak Vecna pulled. He rubs his eyes, trying to wash away the past four years knowing that it will never leave him. Why am I even complaining anyways? Max is in a coma, that is way worse than nightmares! At least I can wake up from them, she is stuck in the deepest sleep a human could be in.

Not to mention how the kids feel about it, especially Lucas... He opens a cupboard to find a glass. He pulls it out, only to have it slip out of his hand, and shatter on the floor. “SH!T!” He exclaims, as he runs to grab the broom and dustpan. As if my morning could get any worse. He thinks, as he starts to sweep the floor with the broom. He looks down at the mess, and collapses onto the floor, with a sigh that could shatter anyone's spirits. How did we end up being this unlucky? Why here, in Hawkins Indiana, did all of this sh!t happen? Couldn't this have happened anywhere else? Why must the kids here in Hawkins be the guinea pigs to this demon-like dimension? He looks at the mess surrounding him, and runs a hand through his hair. This needs to stop pronto.

He stands up, going back to cleaning this mess up. “I'm gonna be the one to fix this. I'm done fighting this war against creatures humans can't fathom. And losing people to it.” He nods, as he takes the dustpan full of glass to the trash can. ”No one else will have to suffer as long as I can destroy that fu¢king place.” He sets the now empty dustpan onto the counter, before running a hand through his hair. The only problem is how do you defeat a psychic wizard guy with a dimension of horrors on his side? He wonders, before setting his jaw. No. We're figuring this out on the off chance it can save Max and the kids. Maybe I should bring Rob and Nance in on this, see if they have any ideas, since they are better at this planning thing than me. He nods, and weird confidence flows through him that wasn't there before. 

We're beating that son of a b!tch's @ss into next year. He'll never harm another fu¢king kid on my dutiful watch. Hawkins will be a normal, tiny town where nothing happens again. With this new found confidence, he puts away the broom and dustpan, and runs to find some paper to maybe write down ideas. We'll figure this out. We have to.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 019: Confined.

Featuring Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson.

Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler.

1,227 words. The most I've written for one prompt so far, I believe. And technically I only refer to Robin and Nancy as "the girls" but that counts so...

Eddie shoves Dustin inside the inverted and twisted version of his trailer, slamming its front door shut behind him. He sighs, and looks at Dustin who is panting. “Dude.” Dustin mumbles, managing to catch his breath. Eddie walks up to him, and grabs his arms to steady himself. “Most metal EVER!” Dustin announces, as they both bounce with an energy so nervous it was like lightning shooting through the small hallway. The banging on the wire fences that surround the house makes a rattling that sends a shiver down Eddie’s spine. Just gotta keep ‘em distracted long enough to let Harrington and the girls to flambé that motherfu¢ker. Then I can get Henderson out and be done with this place. There is a squeal, and Eddie hears the banging pause, before the bats start to hit the roof with wet thuds. Are they dive bombing? He wonders, as Dustin lifts his makeshift spear.

Eddie bites his lip. If the kid doesn't make it out of this, I don't know what I'll do with myself. Or be able to look Steve Harrington in the eye again. He scoffs to himself, as he pulls Dustin closer to him. That's a new development. Being worried what Steve fu¢king Harrington thinks about him. If you had told him a couple of years back that there would be a time when he would care about Steve's opinion of him, he’d probably laugh in your face. Yet here I am, wanting to make a good impression on him. He hears more rattling and screeching, and it feels as if the whole of this tiny trailer was being squished like a trash compactor. Dustin is trembling, eyeing a vent above the front door, and Eddie grits his teeth. There wasn’t really a way to guard against a bat getting in through the vents, as nothing reached high enough to cover and/or block up them all.

This is it. He thinks, pushing Dustin behind him. The final hurrah of Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Doomed to die with a fourteen year old in a fu¢king twisted version of the middle of nowhere; Hawkins, Indiana. He shifts his spear to a javelin position, aiming up at the vent. If this is my end, I should at the very least make it an end worth remembering. He hears a clunk come from the vent, and he inches forward, Dustin starts to follow, but Eddie waves for him to go back. Not letting you die for my stupidity. Dustin stops, but stands where he was, making no effort to back up. Stubborn brat. He thinks, before looking up at the vent with his spear raised. He hears another clatter from his room, and a chill runs down his spine. Fu¢k! I forgot about that one! He curses to himself, making Dustin frown. “Eddie? What's wrong?!” Dustin asks, his voice trembling almost as much as his body.

I got to get them away from him. But without him knowing that I am doing something stupid. “Just head towards the portal, I'll be there in a second, okay?” Eddie says, keeping his voice even much to his own surprise. Dustin looks at the portal, then to the vent, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. D@mn you and your skepticism, Dustin! He thinks, before nodding towards the portal again. “Go!” He urges again, and Dustin listens this time. But right as he breaks into a run, the vent pops open, and four bats fly out of it. Eddie stabs a few, as they make loud squelching noises and scream an ear piercing screech that makes the two boys cry out in pain. More fly in, and Eddie flings some against the walls, and stabs others. We're stuck to this tiny area, we can't guarantee that we'll both make it into the portal before the bats do. But maybe one of us can. “Dustin! I have an idea! But you gotta trust me!” It's not a great plan, but it's the only one I got. He thinks, and Dustin sighs.

“Well? Spit it out, man!” Dustin yells, and Eddie swallows. “Go through the portal, I'll follow, and maybe they'll try to get through on that side, thus distracting them from the others!” That wasn't really Eddie's plan, but it has to sound like a well formed plan for Dustin to believe him. And as much as he hated lying to the kid, he needed him safe. Harrington needed him safe, and Eddie decided he was the man that would die to make sure of it. Dustin gives him a nod, before starting the climb up the clothing rope. Eddie clears his throat, staring down the beasts in front of him like he was humanity's only hope. In a way, Eddie supposes, he was, since this plan would help save Hawkins, and by extension the whole world. He glances up to see Dustin land on the mattress above. Below? This is too confusing. He grabs the rope, taking a second to think if this idea was really worth it. He looks up at Dustin, who frowns. 

“Eddie! Come on! Get out of there!” Dustin screams through the portal, and Eddie lets go of the rope. I need to buy more time. They probably haven't made it to the house yet. “Eddie?!” Dustin cries, sounding almost to tears. He grits his teeth, his resolve set. If I'm dying, I'm sure as hell not dying in this trailer. He swings the spear, cutting clean through the fabric and dropping the rope at his feet. “Eddie, what are you doing?!” He cries, tears glistening off his cheeks in the yellow glow of his trailer's incandescent light bulbs. He looks up at him with a sigh. “I’m buying them more time.” He says, simply, before running towards the door, where the bats swarm him, he hears Dustin scream his name, but he doesn't look back. He throws open the door while bats scratch and bite at him and he runs over to the bike by his steps, and swallows. 

Sorry, Harrington. I know you said not to be heroes, but I can't run this time. I wouldn't be able to look you in the eye if Henderson died. He looks up to you in a way he could never possibly look up to me. Please don't blame yourself for this. If I die here, it was my own stupidly big heart that got me there. You did all you could, and I hope one day you and Henderson will forgive me for this. “Come on, then!” He yells, after biking for a while. He lifts his spear, with a threatening shake. I really should have said more to Steve before we parted. My last words to him are seriously gonna be “make him pay.” He watches as the bats become a tornado of black, and a few get eager, but he stabs them all before they get the chance. That is, until one catches him by the throat, and more grasps his arms and legs, pulling him to the ground, and making him drop his spear. And Eddie has no choice but to watch as they all dive bomb him at once, tearing through his flesh and he screams. Loudly. The final stand of Eddie “The Freak” Munson. He thinks morbidly, before everything goes black.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 018: Rings.

Featuring Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, and Eddie Munson.

1,046 words. Have mild Steddie since they have me by the throat. But I can't really write romance, so this is the best I got. 🤷‍♀️

Steve likes Eddie's rings. The way they glisten in the morning sun, the clinking of metal on metal as he gesticulates and bounces around the room when he's explaining something that interests him. The way they are all so different and yet fit together so perfectly. He doesn't really know why he likes looking at them, but sometimes he'll catch himself staring at Eddie's hands and he'll just furrow his brow in confusion. As far as he is aware, Eddie hasn't picked up on his fascination, and Steve was determined to keep it that way. Something about him knowing that Steve likes his rings makes Steve panic internally. He doubts Eddie would actually mind knowing that information, but the thought still sends a shiver of nervous energy down his spine.

He looks over at Eddie, as he, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie sit in his living room watching a movie. Steve wasn't even sure what movie they were supposed to be watching. He believes it was some artsy movie that he got outnumbered on and convinced to watch. But despite the praises being sung by Eddie and Robin beforehand, he wasn't even trying to pay attention to it. He watches as Eddie spins his ring on his middle finger while looking off at the TV screen. He does this a lot, Steve notes, as he has studied his hands many times. He usually does it when he's concentrating or bored. Judging by his fixation on the screen, Steve would wager that this instance is the former. He glances up at his face, and purses his lips in a thin line. What could possibly be so interesting that he's not so much as moving his eyes from the screen? Steve wonders, and turns to watch the screen.

Robin cackles beside him, which takes him off guard. “Oh, I quote that line on the daily.” She says, shoving some popcorn that she had made into her mouth. Eddie nods along, and shrugs. “It's a great line, I can understand that.” He responds, and Steve frowns. He hadn't heard the line, and he didn't want them to know that he wasn't paying attention to the film, so he didn't ask either of them to repeat it so he'd understand. Eddie nudges Steve, a grin on his face. “You think that line was good, Stevie?” He asks, and Steve swallows hard. Sh!t. What should I say? I don't even know what was said! I have to say something though, he talked to me directly! Eddie waves a hand in front of Steve's face.

“Harrington? You in there, hello?” He says, and Steve blinks away his daze. “Yeah, yeah, I'm here.” He says, shoving Eddie's hand away and rolling his eyes. Robin leans forward, looking at Steve now as if he were some animal from the Indianapolis Zoo. “You okay, Steve? You spaced out there.” Steve smiles, shrugging off any concerns from his friends as Nancy turns to look at him too. “Yeah, I guess I got in my own head a bit.” He says, hoping that'd be enough to get them to drop it. But of course, he was a fool. They never give up that easily. Robin rests her arm onto his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She asks, and Steve scoffs. “Talk about what? Nothing's wrong!” He says, and for once, wasn't lying. But they all stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“You sure?” Nancy asks, and Steve nods. “No, yeah, genuinely, I'm alright. I just got lost in thought for a second. Nothing bad, just thinking, okay?” He says, and Eddie pats his back with a laugh. “Yeah, Harrington is a big boy, he can handle it.” Why does he insist on calling me a big boy? He asks himself, only to find no answer. Robin and Nancy frown, keeping their eyes on him. He couldn't blame them, he always kept his feelings to himself, and pushed them away when it came to himself and his health. I guess I'm the boy that cried wolf, but like in reverse. I was silent for too long that they think something is wrong when there isn't a problem. “I know I tend to keep my feelings and personal well-being close to the chest, but I swear I'm fine, alright? No need to worry, I promise.”

Nancy nods, turning back to face the TV again. Eddie leans back against the couch, sinking further into it, as Robin sighs. “If you're sure...” She says, before finally turning her gaze from him. And with that, Steve glances over at Eddie again, only to find that this time, Eddie's eyes weren't glued to the screen. They were looking at him. Steve feels his neck and ears tingle with the slightest burn, making him rub his neck and look away. After a few moments, he dares a glimpse at Eddie, who is still looking at him. Geez, I know I was staring at him for a bit, but being aware that someone is staring at you makes it feel more embarrassing. Steve clears his throat, and attempts to pay attention to the movie.

There was a problem with that, though. Since he had spent the entirety of the film's runtime previously staring at Eddie's hands, he has no idea what is going on in the movie. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie shift in his seat, and accidentally bumps Steve's thigh as he moves. His knee digs into the side of Steve's leg, making him grimace ever so slightly. “Sorry.”  Eddie whispers, his voice right in Steve's ear. Did he move closer to me? He asks, and he turns his gaze back to Eddie, who sure enough, is sitting much closer to him than he had been previously. Eddie may as well have been sitting on top of Steve with the distance he was from him. Steve wasn't sure why, but he felt a smile creep onto his face. Eddie nudges him again, with a soft chuckle. Steve makes eye contact with Eddie, to find him also smiling. Steve's smile grows wider, his heart swelling with an unusual feeling. Not sure what this is, but I think I can live with it. Whatever it is. This is nice.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 017: Wanted.

Featuring Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair. (Technically Steve Harrington for the last two sentences).

Chrissy Cunningham, Nancy Wheeler, Max Mayfield, Robin Buckley, and Erica Sinclair.

936 words and is kind of an in between canon scene.

“I can’t even describe how important you are to me. You’ve changed my life. I wouldn’t be the same without you.” Eddie says, looking at Lucas and Dustin sitting in the musty RV waiting for Steve, Erica, Robin, Nancy and Max to go inside the armory store. Lucas perks up from his spot at the back of the RV. “It might have been better if you had never met us. You may not have been in this situation without knowing us.” Lucas says, and Eddie shakes his head. “No, you're wrong, Sinclair. Chrissy would have asked me to get her drugs at my place without your influence, but if you guys didn't know me, I would have been screwed.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I mean, sh!t, Dustin, if you didn't believe I was innocent I wouldn't have gotten this far, let alone kept the pinch of sanity I have now.”

Dustin shrugs. “You helped us out, it was only fair that we help you too.” Dustin says, with a smile. “Yeah, I mean, what were we supposed to do, leave our dungeon master to rot?” Eddie laughs. “I just played a roleplaying game, not like that's anything special. I mean, you got people way cooler and more helpful to you than me at your side. I mean, hell, Dustin you were right. Steve is every bit the badass you painted him to be. Nancy Wheeler can shoot a gun/has multiple guns in her bedroom, and they all seem to have this crazy world under control. What the hell have I done? I ran away.” Dustin stands up to sit down on the floor next to Eddie, patting his shoulder. “Well, admittedly, I don't spend much time with Nancy, since she and Steve broke up before I hung out with Steve, but we don't like them because they can hold their own in a fight. I mean, if that were the case, Steve wouldn't hit that category.” Eddie frowns. “What do you mean? I watched him rip a demo-bat apart with his bare hands and feet, while spitting out blood, how the fu¢k does he not count?”

Dustin sighs. “Oh, when it comes to monster fighting, he's the winner, but I was referring to his ‘against people’ ranking. He's been in like three or four fights and has only won one.” Eddie gasps. “Seriously, how?” Lucas groans from where he sits. “He tends to protect us by getting beat to high hell. The first fight I saw him do was to protect me from Billy Hargrove, if you remember him.” Eddie nods. Though they never really crossed paths, he had heard the name be tossed around. He scoffs. “I'm still failing to see why you guys are so fiercely loyal to me of all people. I'm just a cowardly freak who happens to share an interest with you guys.” Dustin chuckles. “You aren't a coward for freaking out about Chrissy and Vecna. I would have ran too. That's the normal reaction to what you saw. And as for our loyalty, and why we hold you older boys up the way we do, is not because you're strong, or something.” Lucas nods. “Yeah, you guys came into our lives when we needed you. And have stayed in our lives, treating us like someone worth hanging out with and listening to us. No one did that before you or Steve.”

Eddie glances back at Dustin, who is also nodding to confirm Lucas' statement. “But you have Steve already, why add me to the mix?” Dustin runs a hand down his face, looking exhausted with this topic not going anywhere. “Steve is like the ultimate jock. He doesn't understand our interests like D&D like you do. So we could talk to him about it, but he wouldn't know sh!t. You, on the other hand, know what we're talking about and decided to befriend us when as a senior, you didn't have to.” Eddie spins his rings in his fingers, taking a second to think. “So you like me because I'm a nerd?” Dustin shrugs. “Me personally, I like you because I think you're cool. But I mean, does part of that cool factor come from you understanding things I reference? I guess so.” Lucas walks to the front too, kneeling in front of Eddie. 

“Something you fail to realize is that we don't need an overarching reason why we like you around or we in your words  ‘add you to the mix.’ That was never our thought process. We knew you were in trouble, so we helped you out. Simple as that.” Eddie sniffs, and he could feel tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. It surprises him, since he didn't think these kids could make him cry. He grabs them both and squeezes them tightly. “You two are good kids, and you'll definitely survive high school even if I graduate this year. Try not to get too caught up in the conforming lifestyle of high school, okay? Don't ever feel like you have to change to be treated with respect.” They both nod, hugging him. “Change is inevitable, but we'll do our best to make it be because we need or want to change ourselves, and not because society is trying to force us to.” Eddie smiles. “Good. That's what I want to hear.” Then the RV door busts open, and everyone starts to pile in. “We need to move, NOW!” Steve yells, running up to the driver's seat. “Everybody hang tight!” He adds, as he steps on the gas pedal.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 016: Escaped.

Featuring Eddie Munson, and Dustin Henderson.

Steve Harrington mentioned.

1,124 words, and spoilers for s4 Vol. 2, I guess.

Eddie coughs as Dustin holds him in his arms. Dustin wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, to clear the tears from his eyes. “I’m getting you home, Eddie.” He says, reaching into Eddie’s vest to pull out his pocket knife he got at the War Zone. Dustin cuts the fabric of both of their jeans’ pant legs, and fashions a makeshift bandage. “Where’s Steve when you need him?” He mumbles, and stands up. He grits his teeth. “Sorry, this will hurt, Eddie. And I need you to put pressure on those wounds, alright?” He says, and hears a grunt from Eddie in response. He rubs his hands, and lifts Eddie’s limp body by the armpits, dragging him back towards Eddie’s trailer. He teeters as pain shoots up his leg. Dustin whimpers, he’s not sure if it’s broken, but that fall he took as he tried to get back through the portal after Eddie cut the line to lure the bats away from the portal certainly left its mark. For a singular moment, Dustin considers waiting for help. Eddie will bleed out long before the others will be on their way back.

He tightens the bandanna on his head, and hears Eddie moan as he bumps a rock. He sees the smears of blood causing a trail to where he stopped. F*ck the pain in your leg, Dustin! He scolds himself, hitting his cheek with his palm. Would Steve stop fighting if you were in trouble? Eddie needs you right now, get your head in the game! He inches backwards again, avoiding the vines and rocky surfaces as much as possible. He inhales, glancing behind him, and spying Eddie’s house in the distance. He exhales. Enough people have almost died to protect you, it’s about time you repaid the favor! “Come on.” He says, to himself, repeating it as he yanks as hard as he can, letting out a loud yell. The yell was both to summon courage and strength, and also because he could feel his foot gnawing at his sanity. And with a string of various, and colorful swear words as his leg protests. After what feels like ten years, Dustin reaches the door, and kneels down to check on Eddie.

“...Eddie? You still there?” He asks, and Eddie mutters something as blood spurts out his mouth. Dustin leans in, trying to hear what he said. “If I survive, I better get superpowers.” Eddie says, making Dustin chuckle, despite the circumstances. “Are you ready to be dropped through the portal?” He asks, and Eddie wheezes, but manages a nod. “Help me up, I think I can walk a bit.” Dustin nods, grabbing his arms, and pulling him to his feet. They walk inside, and look at the pulsing hole in the floor. “You ready?” Dustin stands behind him, making sure Eddie wasn’t gonna shove him again and stay in the Upside Down again. Eddie swallows. “What happened to the mattress?” He wonders, and Dustin folds his arms. “Not what we should be focusing on right now, but if you must know, it’s because you decided to be stupid and put yourself in danger! Now hurry down before I toss you through it to make sure you don’t die, d!ckhead.”

Eddie swallows, and swings a leg down, turning to face Dustin. He holds himself up with his arms, repelling down, rolling his ankle when landing. Dustin watches as he flings the chair out of sight, and replaces the mattress. “Come on, Henderson. Don’t make my heroics obsolete. I gotta show Harrington that he’s not the only guy who can play the hero.” Dustin bites his tongue to stop himself from retorting that he was prioritizing the wrong things, and jumps down, falling onto the mattress. He sits up, bolting for Eddie’s bathroom to find the first aid kit. He flings the cabinet open, throwing out various prescriptions before finding it, and booking it back to Eddie. He’s laying on the mattress, and Dustin kneels beside him. “I need to bandage you up.” Eddie nods, and Dustin gets to work on wrapping his wounds with real bandages. He had to pause a few times to dry heave, but he got him relatively patched up. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, we need to get you to a hospital.” Eddie shakes his head.

“We can’t go to a hospital, the cops will arrest me.” Dustin hits Eddie’s arm. “It’s better than you being dead!” Dustin says, his voice breaking up. Eddie swallows. “It’s okay, Henderson. I wasn’t going anywhere in life anyway. Just leave me here to die on my own terms.” Dustin clenches his jaw, and stands. “NO. You said ‘86 was going to be your year, right?” He says, going for a phone to dial 911. Eddie laughs, but there is no humor in it. “That was before I was wanted for murder, and I knew about hell dimensions, and was on the brink of death by demon bats!” He exclaims, which becomes a coughing fit. Dustin dials 911, waiting for the dispatcher to respond. “911, what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asks, and Dustin swallows. “Hi, yes, I need an ambulance! My friend is bleeding out, and he needs a doctor and I’m scared he’s gonna die and--” He raves, gripping his arms to try and stop his trembling. “Calm down, young man. What’s the address?” He takes a deep breath. “The trailer park off of Curly, the Munson residence.” He says, as Eddie shakes his head at him. “Okay, honey.” The dispatcher says. “They’re on their way. Try to remain calm.” Dustin looks at Eddie, who groans, clutching his sides. “Please hurry.”

About three minutes later, the door opens, and paramedics run in. “Isn’t that the cult leader kid?” One of them starts, and Eddie whimpers, no doubt worried they are gonna do something to him or just leave him, before the other paramedic hits him. “We help everyone.” She says, as she helps Eddie onto the stretcher, and carries him to the ambulance. “We will have to call this in.” They add, which makes Dustin’s stomach churn. He follows, climbing into the back with the other EMT. He watches as the EMT stabilizes him. “He’s gonna be okay, right?” He asks, grabbing Eddie’s hand. “He’ll be okay physically, you called us in time to save him, but you won’t be able to see him since he’s a murder suspect.” Dustin turns his nose up at him. “He’s not a murderer! Or a cult leader!” He snaps, glaring at the paramedic, who sighs. “The cops will have to determine that, for now, I need you to remain calm.” Dustin crosses his arms. He sighs. At least he’s safe.

Eddie Munson totally survived bc I'm in denial. Also, last year on the 16th I had a prompt titled "Trapped" and this one is "Escaped" which was accidental, lmao.

[emo-floof-child-writes]

Day 015: Missing.

Featuring Eddie Munson.

Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Nancy Wheeler mentioned.

1,027 words. An excessive amount of italics but it also was mostly an internal dialogue so 🤷‍♀️

Eddie sheds the hideous hospital gown, and sighs. This is it. Time to enter the world again. Truth be told, Eddie doesn’t want to return to the world, he’d rather stay in the hospital and never show his face anywhere. Especially not at his trailer. He wasn't sure if the crack was still there. Or hell, if the trailer itself was even there, due to what he was told about Vecna’s plan to tear Hawkins into four chunks thanks to dead kids. Or almost dead, in Max’s case. He winces. Max being in a coma was another reason Eddie didn't want to be discharged. Ever since the doctors said he was healthy enough to move and stuff, he was in Max’s room staring at his neighbor who did everything she could to help him not get blamed for murder, lying prone in a bed with a neck brace, casts on most of her appendages, and a mechanism over her face.

It made Eddie's stomach turn, and his mind whirl in anger. How could someone do such a horrible thing to such a good spirited girl? Sure, she may be sardonic and a bit distant, and Eddie only just started to get to know her, but she was nice in her own way. Lucas had told him all about her, so had Dustin. Eddie wasn't sure if Lucas ever really left her room after all of this. But knowing what he's said about his and Max's relationship, it made sense. It was sad, to be sure, but it made sense. He grits his teeth as he stares into the hospital's bathroom mirror. It was unfair. Why am I the one that gets out unscathed, save a few scars? Why not the young girl who has so much potential and will go far in life? He hits his hand against the sink, his rings causing a clink against the porcelain.

He growls, anger and frustration gnawing at him like a moth eating through old clothing. A knock at the door brings him back from his spiral. “Who is it?” He asks, figuring it was one of the kids or something. “Mr. Munson? I hate to disturb you, but I have to discharge you sometime.” One of the nurses. Eddie realizes, and he groans. Best to not keep her waiting, I guess. He turns around, and swings the door open. The nurse smiles at him, which was rare occurrence nowadays post-Vecna and supposed “Satanic Cult Leader” rumors. He tries for a smile back, rubbing his hand through his curls, and catches a tangle and bites down a grimace as he untangles it.

“You ready to go home, Mr. Munson?” The nurse asks, as she looks over some papers on a clipboard. Eddie swallows. He knows she means well, just trying to make small talk and whatever, but Eddie really just wanted to stay in that bathroom forever and never come out. He again forces a smile, and shrugs. “The food will be better, I suppose.” He jokes, but he knew that if anyone that really spent time with him were here right now, his joking and smile wouldn't reach his eyes. She doesn't seem to pick up on this, as she laughs, and nods. “Yeah, I can understand that. Sign here, please.” She says, passing him the clipboard. He takes it and scribbles out a signature that he had gotten good due to all the NDAs he's had to sign this past week. She takes the board from him, and nods towards the door. “You’re free to leave whenever, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie swallows. The moment I walk out that door is the moment I'll have to accept that I survived. I survived and that fu¢king tentacle man is still out there, and Max can't leave her no matter how much she may want to. He frowns. Can you have that kind of consciousness when in a coma? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't about to ask. That would only make the fact that I survived and she almost didn't worse. The nurse leaves with the paperwork, and Eddie stares daggers into the wooden door in front of him. He was sure there were friends and family downstairs waiting for him to come down, but he didn't want to go. Maybe I can fake up an injury that needs to be treated so I can stay here longer. He ponders, before shaking his head. That would never work. The doctors train for years to be able to see past a guy who probably wouldn't be able to point to my kidneys on an anatomy chart.

He looks over to the window. Maybe I could just run. Go missing. Leave without a trace. Get the hell out of Hawkins and anywhere that people know me. He nods. Wayne will have to understand later. I can't stay here, especially not in that trailer. Eddie marches up to the door to the hallway, before he could change his decision, and runs down the hall. He stops by the elevators, thinking they would probably be looking that way if someone was waiting for him down below. He walks over to the stairs. Being on the fifth floor meant going down five flights of stairs, but it meant no one would expect him to come down that way, so it would be easier for him to disappear that way. He takes a deep breath, and makes his way down, slowly, still using his time alone and in this hospital to his advantage. Wayne, forgive me. But I need to be missing. I can't stay here and put you in jeopardy because some high school kids think I'm Satan's spawn. I'm sorry Dustin, Lucas and Mike, I hope one day you'll understand. And Robin, Nancy and Steve... He pauses his thought, staying at the third floor sign. I'm sorry I didn't get more time to get to know you. But I can't stay... I need to be gone. This is the only way to be sure no harm comes to anyone I care about. Put up a poster or two, but I must remain Eddie The Banished.