it´s back, it´s back, it´s back, he´s back it´s the only thought running through his panic as he stumbles across the street ; the soles of his shoes slapping clumsily against the asphalt in the desperate attempt to get away from the claws moving up his spine. from the goosebumps breaking out on his neck, from the breath he feels against it. billy is trapped again, helpless to watch himself unravel and choke on nothing as he´s dragged underground again. dozens of voices explode in his head and he wants to scream, but all that comes out is a broken gasp from the lack of air in his lungs.
he needs to breathe, none of this shit is real ; he just needs to get his breath under control and calm the fuck down - none of these voices are real, they´re gone ; they´re dead. d e a d b e c a u s e o f y o u. billy had been the first domino to fall, the one to push over all of the other stones; dragging them down with him because he´s a fucking coward. weak. p a t h e t i c. the blood keeps dripping down onto the pavement below and he can hear his fathers voice behind him, calling his name. b i l l y ? - so that´s why you´ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some fagg ❝ STOP! ❞ they´re GONE. neil is GONE, he´s run off because he couldn´t deal with the embarrassment of having a failure like billy as his damn son ; a failure who can´t do anything right. can´t take care of his sister, can´t show any respect, can´t do his job, can´t gather enough people, can´t listen to orders and in the end; can´t even fucking die properly when he´s supposed to.
why did you get to live? why are you the only one, billy? i just wanted to help you and y o u b r o u g h t m e t o H I M. y o u k i l l e d m e.
heather´s voice is cold in his ears, nothing but a cold echo to match the paleness of her skin in the moonlight in front of him. she´s an empty husk, reaching out toward him. y o u k i l l e d t h e m - miss american pie. the clock chimes two. ❝ get get away from me ❞ billy tries to flinch away, needs this to STOP ; but heather is staring down at him, frozen and unfeeling - and vines are wrapping around his back pulling him towards something - towards whatever is breathing down his neck and he can´t. don´t you do it, hargrove. W I L L I A M. i swear to GOD.
❝ i said get the FUCK AWAY FROM ME ❞
the burst of adrenaline is quick and violent - his elbow thrown back into a solid body, using all of his strength to shove the weight away from himself ; the surprise that it actually goes, that the pressure falls away like a rock tumbling from a cliff is what finally reels him back to this earth. it startles him back into awareness, blinking away the darkness that had closed in on him throughout the entire time and for the first time he feels like he can actually see the road he´s standing on - the forest surrounding him, the light of the moon filtering through the tree tops. ❝ what the ❞ the breath hangs heavy on his lips after being denied for so long, the quick change of mood and terror leaving him with a whiplash - reeling to try and catch up what the fuck just happened.
seconds stretch into minutes while billy just stands there, gathering his thoughts while the world around him slowly filters back into focus ; until the gentle rumble of an idle engine in the distance reminds him that he´s not alone. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck - humiliation races through him, dares to set him on fire as he finally turns to remember the body he´d shoved away from himself just moments before and his gaze settles onto eddie munson who´d just seen billy hargrove fall apart like a tower of flimsy playing cards. who´d seen him lose his mind like a damn lunatic.
walls are thrown back up quicker than lightning; the hargrove mask slipping over whatever mess might still showing on his face - stupid, he´s so fucking stupid. there´s no way the other is going to let him get away with acting like nothing happened but that doesn´t stop his tongue from running away from him anyway. ❝ not a fucking word, munson. ❞
billy doesn´t make a move to reach out and help him up from the ground - wouldn´t have even if he wasn´t still shaking ever so slightly; instead he turns away to hide - to pretend to look down the streets for any other living soul or dead apart from them. anything to not look at the judgement, fear, disgust or whatever the hell else was going on in munsons head right now. billy doesn´t have the stomach to deal with this now without it escalating. what he needs is to walk, to breathe fresh air and remind himself that he´s still alive, remind himself that he´s stuck with the other guy for better or worse. that anything is better than being alone right now.
he takes a deep breath, counts to three while his fingers itch for a cigarette. he imagines the smoke filling up his lungs, imagines it filtering out through his nose when he expels the breath forced and slow. ❝ go get your shit and ditch the car. ❞ billy needs to move, to move on and get away from this fucking place. lovers lake isn´t that far anyway. ❝ we´re walking. ❞
⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ THE CONCERN THAT HAD ETCHED itself into the features of Eddie’s face continued to deepen with each passing moment, the gaze of his dark eyes never leaving the shaking mess of a boy that was coming undone at the seams beneath the weight of his arm. After everything that he’d witnessed and learned of that night, he had every reason in the world to believe that this sudden spiral was just the tip of the iceberg of what was yet to come; a looming harbinger of the next imminent calamity on what was likely a long list, if the past was anything to go off of.
❝ Whoa, man, ❞ Eddie spoke, flinching away for only a moment at the first sign of Billy’s protests. ❝ Chill out! ❞ He snapped, although the wavering inflection in his voice made him appear far more diffident than it did assertive. Once again, he draped a leather-clad arm over his form, his own posture slumping forward slightly to get a better view of his face. As he gazed into the vacant stare of pale irises, however, it was almost as though there was nobody behind them—like Billy was looking past him, or rather . . . like he was looking at someone else? The sight made Eddie’s blood run cold, a fresh wave of dread washing over him and weighing him down into near-paralysis.
Before he could even utter another word or process the next distraught thought in the queue of his frenzied mind, Eddie was knocked backwards by the sudden blow of Billy’s elbow as it slammed against his ribcage. Perhaps a scream would have followed the abrupt outburst if the wind wouldn’t have been knocked from his lungs, but instead he could only struggle silently for a gasp of air as erratic footsteps carried him backwards in a frantic stumble. His body fought and lost a slow battle to stay upright, his back eventually making contact with the ground with a loud thud and a quiet groan.
❝ Jesus FUCKING CHRIST! ❞ The words erupted in an off-pitch shriek as soon as he’d inhaled a breath, the overwhelming influx of emotions causing his remaining composure to temporarily dissolve. It was hard to say if he’d ever gotten it back in the first place though.
Eddie’s chocolate gaze snapped quickly back onto the other boy once he’d sat himself up, his brows furrowed but his eyes still wide as he clutched his aching side with both of his hands. It was hard to tell what was going on anymore, but from what little evidence he could gather, Billy had snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, because his stare wasn’t so vacant anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disquieted by it, but he didn’t look away despite the other’s obvious aversion to eye-contact, his attention entirely focused on his every move.
NOT ANOTHER WORD, MUNSON.
Eddie wished like fucking hell that he could find some words to begin with, but his utter disbelief forced a transitory stillness in his vocal cords. From start to finish, the entire night had left him bordering on being speechless—a rare occurrence for someone that liked to run his mouth the way he did. He’d had enough. Two hands were raised palms-forward in the way of surrender after he slowly pushed himself to his feet, his head shaking and his lips pressed tightly shut as though he was fighting back a brewing assault of fiery curses. And then, finally, he spoke. ❝ Yeah, uh, ❞ the words came out in an almost sarcastic snort, a brief pause following. ❝ You know what? Fine. Whatever you say, Hargrove. Whaaateeever you fuckin’ say, ❞ he told him, his tone sharp despite the slight melodic note in it as his footsteps carried him backwards a short distance, his body eventually pivoting to head towards his van. While genuine frustration was a major factor in the driving force behind his retreat, the shaking of his legs made it all but impossible to pretend that fear didn’t make up the primary reasoning.
There were a lot of questions that needed answering, but even he was beginning to feel as though he was barely skirting around the borders of overdrive now. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and the mere thought of trying to converse with BILLY FUCKING HARGROVE about what had just happened made his energy levels plummet into non-existence. He needed to get inside. He needed to sit down. He needed to somehow remove himself from this situation. He needed to find a single moment of fucking peace.
Bitterly, Eddie threw two middle fingers up towards the sky, shaking them almost aggressively at an invisible recipient before finally allowing them to fall limply back to his sides, his palms slapping haphazardly against his thighs. It wasn’t as though he believed in God, but if there was someone up there looking down on him, well . . . he figured that now was the perfect opportunity to give him a piece of his mind, just in case.
The concept of having to walk the rest of the way to Lover’s Lake was far from pleasant, but Eddie knew better than to argue the notion. The van would only serve to give away their location later on, and so it was in their best interests to hide it pre-emptively, as inconvenient as it would be for the time being . . . After throwing the old vehicle back into first gear, he drove it a short distance off of the road and then left it near the edge of the woods, grabbing a few of his belongings from within the glove box before he turned off the ignition and headed back over towards his regrettable travel companion. There wasn’t much to grab—an extra pack of cigarettes, a Walkman, a couple cassettes and a set of cheap headphones—but they were invaluable to him now that he essentially owned nothing.
Without a word, Eddie slipped the headphones on over his ears, a still-trembling finger pushing the play button on his Walkman to allow it to begin booming out whatever cassette he’d happened to have left in the compartment at the loudest volume possible. IRON MAIDEN. This would do nicely, although it would do little to distract him from whatever the fuck he’d just witnessed, nor would it take the edge off of his nerves. Anything to keep him from needing to hold a conversation though—not that he thought that the other wanted to talk much anyways. It was more so a spiteful act of principle than genuine prevention.