#demobat

You, on the other hand, were in perfect condition, with not a single scratch or stray hair to be seen; you were pumped. Wired. Ready to go through with the plan you had made all along, as if you had prophesied the next event entirely from the quietest corner of your mind.

If Eddie lived, you knew he wouldn't be able to live life as a free man; Hawkins branded him as a killer, a dangerous satanist who could kill the innocent and threaten most brutally. Two options could give Eddie freedom: his death or you taking the fall for his crimes and dying to escape what would become a gruelling and soul-destroying cross-examination. 

His chest heaved as he tried to shove you toward the rope of bedsheets with his trembling, cold hands, swallowing the rising bile in his throat. You were stubborn in your movements, not moving your feet any further.

Eddie continued to slowly turn paler and paler, as his blood loss turned life-threatening. 

"Go! C'mon, you first!" he yelled, his voice cracking through the roar of the red sky.

"Eddie, if we both go now, we'll be torn apart!" you shouted back, shoving your hand into your jacket pocket, pulling out two handwritten letters. 

Eddie gripped his spear and shook his head, "No! I’m the diversion, remember? That was the deal! I’m not running this time, I’m staying!"

You thrust the letters into Eddie's chest and pressed your lips against his, his blood smearing on your face and clothing. Your eyes filled with tears, you quickly squeezed them shut and forced yourself to remember what he looked like playing a guitar with a smile on his face and a poorly rolled cigarette hanging from his lips. 

"Getting out of here isn't running." You shoved him back, causing him to stumble through the portal, barely landing on his feet. "I'll see you on the other side!"

"Jesus Christ!" he screamed, "Don't do this!"

"I love you, Eds," you said as you severed the rope. "Now run, Eddie!" you yelled, "Run!" 

Eddie's eyes shot open, jolting awake with thick beads of sweat across his forehead, chest and back. He couldn't stop himself from hyperventilating, putting his exhausted head in his hands. Every night went like this. Constantly waking to the sound of your screams replaying in the back of his head, unable to get more than fifteen minutes of sleep before the cycle repeated itself until the sun broke through the slightly narrow gap in his stained and dusty curtains.

He didn't eat much. Eddie found the task exhausting and painful, whatever he managed to swallow caused his stomach to cramp and demand more food. His immense hunger making him double over when the smell of cooking meat nausiated him. 

Wayne couldn't force Eddie to eat, to shower, to shave, to do anything. The ocasional bite of a sandwich or burger would satisfy him, as long as Eddie drank water, coffee, anything to keep himself hydrated and smoked as he usually did, was enough for Wayne to not die from worry. 

But as your death anniversary loomed closer, one evening whilst working at the plant, Wayne got a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn't ignore. 

Eddie couldn't take it anymore, and as he peeled himself out of his bed, he reached for the personal letter you wrote for him, carefully unfolding it and holding it lightly, afraid of smudging the preservation of your handwriting in ink, he began to read again. As he did every single day.

Dear Eddie,

I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say other than I’m sorry over and over again, with god knows how many ‘I love you’s to match.

I had to go, Eddie. I didn’t want to but I had to. It had to me.

You deserve a life where you can actually live without the satanic murderer label fucking slapped on you.

You deserve freedom, a second chance to get out of this place.

The two of us getting out and having our happy ending was never going to happen - that’s not how life works.

But giving up my life so you can live yours, is something I won’t ever regret.

I just wish we met somewhere else, in a different town, in a different decade, just any other different reality that doesn’t involve our shitty town.

I hate that Hawkins did this to us.

Please don’t ever forget just how much I love you. I’ll always love you, Eddie.

I died loving you. My love for you is what kept me going until the very end.

I’ll always be with you, even if you can’t feel me or see me anymore.

Yours forever,

Every time Eddie finished reading your letter, he pressed it against his chest, his heart thumping against the paper. His eyes squeeze shut as he thinks back to the night you died, taking in the way you kissed him. How soft your lips were against his, your smell, your breathing. He remembers it all.

He thinks back to your high pitched screams and lower growls as the bats tore int you, ripping your flesh apart and attacking your jugular. He obsesses over every detail. The sound of your gurgling as you suffocate on your own blood, and then the eerie calm as everything seems to stop once you’ve gone. The bats. The loudness of the world. Everything. Everything died with you.

When he finally opens his eyes and he places the letter down, he picks up his long and rusted straight razor.

He holds it up to his neck, as his heart beats faster, more frantic and he strikes.

But rather than a gash to his throat, he slashes his scarred wrists and chokes on his tears. The stinging sensation that once made him whimper no longer has an effect on him, in fact he can barely notice it anymore.

The blood seeps from the gash slowly at first before trailing a little faster down his wrists and pooling into the palm of his hand.

He slashes again and again, going over old scars, opening up the deeper ones, he’s careless as he does it, not bothering to be miss the danger zones anymore.

The razor goes over the circular burn marks across the back of his hands, his favourite spot for putting out his cigarettes.

Wayne bursts through the door, frantically calling out his nephew's name, his voice thick with fright. Hearing no answer, Wayne forces himself into Eddie's bedroom, almost tripping over the stacks of plates, bowls, soda cans, his mothers jazz cassettes, a pile of your clothes and trinkets you left Eddie.

Wayne's eyes widened at the sight of his nephew covered in blood, his hand trembling, gripping the straight razor as he held it to his throat - this time not aiming to slash downwards towards his wrists. 

“Edward! Don’t!” Wayne wails, quickly grabbing Eddie by the wrist.

Eddie’s blood dripped all over his uncle, he cried out at him squeezing his wrist, fighting against his strength.

“I’ve got to do this, Wayne.” Eddie cried, his eyes red and hopeless, the dark circles deepening.

“It’s the only way I can get back to her. She left me here, alone. She got herself killed so I could live, and what life am I living without her?”

Eddie’s eyes met his uncles, his tears running down his face.

Wayne didn’t let go of Eddie’s wrist, but slowly he managed to lower his nephew’s hand away from his throat.

“It’s not your fault!”

“It is my fault! Had I been more careful, she wouldn’t have put me first… we could’ve gotten out together—“

The straight razor finally dropped on the ground, clattering against his guitar which was covered in dust and grime, untouched since you died.

“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything to stop this. She made her decision, Edward. No one could’ve stopped her!”

“I can’t have anyone else leave me again,” Eddie sobbed, dropping himself into Wayne’s arms “my mom is gone, my girl is gone. I’d rather die before anyone else leaves.”

"Your mom didn't have a choice, Edward. She loved you more than anything. Her death was... it turned bad real quick. Your mother would never choose to leave you."

Wayne managed to pull Eddie off the bed, leading him into the bathroom, pressing a clean towel against the cuts all over his arms and wrists. The blood spread across the white towel, the red liquid taking over inch by inch. 

"She died in agony," Eddie cried, "a slow and cruel death, ripped apart because I was too weak,"

"Stop," Wayne begged, looking for the first aid kit, "please, stop."'

"I have nowhere to visit her. There wasn't a body for me to view or say goodbye to. Her remains are just... gone. What if she's stuck there? Just rotting. Cold and alone."

Wayne shook his head, unravelling the bandages, the thought of you in such a bad way striking his chest. 

"I can't live with that. She took the blame for that thing... Vecna... did. This whole town celebrates her death, and I have nowhere to go to mourn her. I can't express to anyone how much I love and miss her. She died for my freedom, but her sacrifice has plunged me into a miserable life of secrecy and silence. I'm trapped, and I can't escape."

Before bandaging Eddie's arms, Wayne gently cleaned and inspected his nephew's wounds, counting each scar, cut, and burn mark individually. His heart was breaking more and more as he realised it wasn't just his arms, but his shoulders, his chest. His entire body was scattered in self-punishment, and a desperate need for release. 

"You're still here," Wayne's voice cracked, "a whole year you've held on for, you can keep going."

Eddie shook his head, wincing at the antiseptic cream spreading across his wounds. 

"I can't. If this is how I am a year in, can't you imagine just how much more desperate I'm going to get? I can't promise anything. I don't see myself being here in two weeks, let alone a month."

Wayne slowly wrapped the bandages around Eddie, carefully and skillfully leaving another room for his skin to breathe, yet remain protected from the bacteria and dirt festering in his room. 

"I know I can't bring her back, I can't bring your mom back either. I can't suddenly force your dad to be... a decent dad, but I'm here, Edward. I'm here for you. You're all I have, and I can't see you hurting like this, not anymore."

Eddie looked up at his uncle, slowly taking in his deep-set wrinkles and age spots. 

"Kill me," he sighed, briefly looking down at his bandages, "put me out of my misery." 

Wayne's eyes were tired, sore, and scarred from the sights of the evening. 

"I can't," Wayne choked, "you deserve to live a long and happy life."