#nosmortem

@nosmortem

They were idiots. All of them. Except Nancy. Nancy Wheeler had a good head on shoulders but she was in way over her head with this one. Eddie needed a doctor. But taking him to a doctor in Hawkins didn't seem like a viable option. They needed to find Hopper. Hopper would know what to do.

Hopper was calling anyone he could, but the one doctor he knew he could trust was nowhere to be found. Hopper was on his own mission now, asking vague questions to people in the medical field, stealing medical equipment. The plan was to keep Eddie alive until he got everything he needed, and Joyce.

But Eddie was just barely hanging on. They'd managed to stop the bleeding early on and Nancy had done her best to stitch up the bigger wounds but the wounds were looking gnarly. Eddie was close to sepsis and they all knew it.

"You know…" Said a barely conscious Eddie while looking up at Robin. Blood loss, infection, fever, Eddie was still there and fighting and you could tell by the mischievous grin he was wearing. He was still very much Eddie Munson, always a pain in the ass. "…it's funny watching you guys freak out about who is staying with me. It's like no one wants me to die on them. Don't worry, Robin. I kinda wanna freak Steve out so I'm holding out till then." He shifted to a move comfortable position and while it worked and he was more comfortable, getting into that position involved a lot of hissing breaths and groans. Breathing hurt, shifting to his side to give his back a rest was downright torture.

"I'm thinking about ominious shit to say right before I bite the dust."

Wouldn’t it only be embarrassing if folks knew it was about her? Or would she be mortified all the same? Feel perceived all the same. Feelings. Verbalizing them, having them verbally unloaded - in private, was still something that was. A lot for her. He knew that. he respected that.

ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

Pain is a sensation Nancy's all too familiar with. Years of fighting monsters hadn't come without injury, and this trip into the Upside Down is no exception. Their group was split up into pairs of two, with Robin and herself standing guard in the Creel house; everything had been fine for hours — and then Nancy heard Robin's scream.

It'd happened fast, several vines from the hall coming to life as they wrapped around Robin's neck and squeezed. Nancy hadn't hesitated, adrenaline boiling over at the sight of Robin's reddening face; yet saving her friend demanded a price.

Her left wrist, tangled in the vines previously around Robin's neck, had been snapped with an audible crack.

❝ I'm fine, ❞ it's assured through grit teeth, both of them now stationed in the Creel house's living room. It's only been a few minutes since the attack; and with no way of knowing if more are coming, they can't exactly sit around and play doctor.

Nancy's cracked wrist isn't a priority — especially not when the others are counting on them.

❝ It doesn't matter, we can't do this here, we don't have time. ❞ They're still waiting on a signal, and no way in hell is a broken bone going to stop their plan. Nancy's supposed to stay, and Robin — god, she's supposed to head back to the trailer soon.

                                                 Nobody deviates. No exceptions.

ㅤhe could understand wanting more, wanting better. it was admirable to hope. he wasn't a desperate man [ . . . ] not anymore. it wasn't that he didn't have the will to finish each day. he just didn't see the value in hoping beyond that. " and you think it's worth it? " it's a genuine question, though he wouldn't be surprised if his blunt delivery says otherwise. " to make something of ─── " he waves a hand between them, gesturing to whatever world now existed. " all of this? "

THEY’D  TALKED  ABOUT  GOING  TO  a  show  together  in  passing,  but  nothing  concrete  had  ever  been  agreed  upon,  making  his  warning  call  to  her  even  more  cryptic:  ‘We’re  going  on  a  road  trip,  Buckley.  Pack  a  bag,  I’ll  be  there  in  twenty.’  He’d  hung  up  before  questions  could  be  asked.  

Eddie  had  managed  to  snag  a  couple  of  Bowie  tickets,  their  shared  love  of  his  music  having  been  a  bonding  point  for  the  pair;  given  Robin’s  strong  opinions  of  the  guy,  the  metalhead  thought  surprising  her  would  be  the  best  option.  

for @nosmortem​ | jenny | verse: the hunger games

Evan was very shaken. Yes, he grew up in a Career district and yes, many of those he grew up around volunteered for the prestige of being ‘ winner ‘, of coming home to riches and wealth. It wasn’t uncommon for those of District 4 to succeed. However, Evan wasn’t among the company of young people who thought they would ever legitimately reach the games. He was in his last year of eligibility and expected it to go by as it always does — racing heart, sweaty palms, sorrow for those who got picked and pity for those who volunteered, before returning home to a well-prepared meal. This time it was EVAN BECKETT ! who was called, and he told himself as he approached the podium that he was strong, well-fed and could fight. He could hunt, he could swim, and he was capable. He could do this. Victory was possible.

Now, however, away from the prying eyes that demanded his bravery, he lost that glimmer. He was up on the roof of the training center, not even sure if anyone aside District 12 could access it ( and not caring, either ), wondering if he was capable. There was no question he was a survivor but was he a killer ? Could he, when the moment came down to it, fight, not freeze, and take another life to buy himself a few more hours until the next coin toss for life. 

Evan was not cowardly, nor would he buckle under the pressure of his position, but he knew there was more behind it than simply coming out a Victor. It meant remembering the faces of those he personally killed and trying to deal with the nightmares, because as stoic as the Victors from his district looked, there seemed to be a dimming of the light behind their eyes. With the exception of District 1 and 2, Evan was certain that all Victors lived with nightmares. They must, right ?

LESS THAN A MONTH LESS THAN A MONTH. I'm sure I'm going to look like Frankenstein's monster still with all my incisions and bruising and stuff but you know what, whateverrrrrr. I can't wait to be lifeguard Steve and I can't wait to be the James to your Jesse and omg when was the last time we actually attended a con together intentionally? I'm going to cry, scream, and throw up all at once. Hopefully I will be off meds so we can have a celebratory drink.

"Okay first of all, you're forgetting that I would be dead. Like, super dead. So I doubt I'd give two shits that I was naked, and even if I hadn't finished, I wouldn't know it because I'd be...like I said...dead." He stressed again, shaking his head. He knew it was ridiculous of him, but he was a simple man. He liked women. He liked boobies. He would die incredibly happy in a situation that involved these things.

As Robin was listing all her possibilities, Steve was pretending to snore dramatically. "A grocery store, really, Robin? People probably die in those places all the time. And concerts? Abso-fucking-lutely. There's no way. I bet people get trampled to death in mosh pits and stuff. Overdose." He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, bringing the straw between his teeth and chewing it aimlessly, knowing that this morbid conversation was likely to get them attention.

But then it was somehow turning soft, and Steve felt his heart pound a bit. He knew his tone had been somewhat sarcastic when he had mentioned dying with her at Family Video, but he had meant it at the same time. Knowing that Robin felt the same way, genuinely, made him feel like his heart was about to burst. He didn't know if he had ever had anyone like that in his life. Nancy hadn't even been able to admit that she loved him, for one. His parents were never around. Even Dustin, though he knew the kid looked up to him, he didn't know if the sentiment was the same as what Robin was expressing.