Ive Got A Name, Ya Know?

Hawkins was loud tonight. Music thumped through the house which belonged to one of Jason’s buddy’s, bass rattling the walls, beer sloshing in red cups, laughter spilling into every corner. Chrissy Cunningham stood near the edge of it all, fingers curled tightly around her drink she hadn’t touched in a while. She wore a careful smile, the kind she’d perfected over years, but it felt brittle now,like one wrong word might shatter it.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, toward the front door, toward anywhere that wasn’t here.

Because Eddie wasn’t here.

Because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t come tonight… and still

Jason had been drinking. She could tell by the way his arm slung too heavily around her shoulders, by the sharp edge creeping into his voice whenever someone mentioned Hellfire or freaks or that Munson guy. Chrissy stiffened every time she heard the name, her stomach twisting with guilt and something softer, warmer, more dangerous. The memories of quiet laughter, of Eddie’s crooked grin, of the way he looked at her like he actually. *saw* her.

Jason’s grip tightened. “Why’d I hear Eddie Munson’s name outta your mouth the other night?” he asked, leaning down so only she could hear. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thought you said you were at cheer stuff.”

Chrissy’s heart dropped. Her breath caught, fingers tightening around the cup until it nearly bent. “I—I was..” she said quickly, too quickly. “I just..I ran into him, that’s all.” Jason scoffed, pulling her a step away from the crowd, fingers digging into her wrist, not enough to leave marks, but enough to hurt. Enough to scare her.

“Don’t lie to me, Chrissy.” he snapped, voice low and sharp. “You don’t run into guys like him. You sneak around with them.” His eyes burned into hers. “You fucking with him? Huh? That freak get inside your head?”

Her chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in. “No..” she whispered, shaking her head, curls bouncing. “Jason, please—”

He laughed, bitter and ugly. “God, you’re unbelievable.” His grip tightened for just a second more before he let go, leaving her arm throbbing. “I should’ve known. Little miss perfect, sneaking around behind my back.” Chrissy stumbled slightly, catching herself on the counter. Her vision blurred and not just from fear, but from heartbreak. From the crushing realization that the boy she was supposed to love felt like a stranger… and the ones she was lying about felt like home.

Across the room, the music roared on, oblivious. Chrissy swallowed hard, lifting her chin even as her hands trembled, standing on the edge of a choice she knew she couldn’t avoid much longer.

He could've passed up this business opportunity. Truly. Though he needed every penny, he was doing alright for himself. Certainly making enough to skip this. However, when Chrissy Cunningham casually mentioned it after their usual transaction yesterday, he ran out of reasons not to go. Not that they could even interact in public if Jason was nearby. Though they'd never spoken of Jason's jealousy, Eddie could put two and two together. Between the glares he began throwing him, to the way Chrissy shifted away from Eddie in the hallway if she saw Jason approaching. Not to mention the two of them had been feuding years before Chrissy started dating him. Jason had the bold, grating confidence of someone who's never been told to shut up in their entire life. That is, until he met Eddie, who delighted in telling Jason to shut up in one way or another every few months. Still, he would play nice. He knew trying to beat Jason at his own game would only make Chrissy's life more difficult. Which he cared more about than winning a pissing contest with someone who probably finger-guns his reflection in the mornings before school. Right after his bowl of Wheaties.

Yes, Eddie would've stuck to this plan and been perfectly satisfied. Chrissy and he had shared a moment of connection earlier in the form of eye contact and a subtle smile. That was enough to sustain him until he saw her again. But fate had other plans, as it often does.

Finishing up his beer, he rose to deposit the bottle into the trash. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed Chrissy and Jason involved in what looked like a suspiciously heated conversation. Eddie watched as Jason pulled Chrissy toward the hallway, eyes laser locked to Jason's hand gripping around her tiny wrist. A grasp that he knew was much too tight just by eyeballing it. He looked around to see if anyone noticed, but per usual the crowd was consumed with their own social lives and alcohol quota. Cautiously, Eddie made his way around the side of the kitchen bar closest to the hallway, gauging the situation. Not that he wouldn't get absolutely pummeled by all of Jason's jockstrap lemmings if he did try and beat the shit out of him. And yet, that didn't deter him. It would be worth it if Jason was hurting Chrissy.

The moment he heard Chrissy sticking up for him, and saw the look in Jason's eyes; that white hot rage which communicated he would be doing more than grabbing Chrissy's wrist, Eddie panicked and approached with the first thought to rattle through his brain like a Connect Four disk.

"Hey guys, did you know a group of jellyfish is called a smack?" He paused a beat, glancing over at Chrissy to study her expression. She looked to be an equal mix of terrified and confused. He offered her a ghost of a smile that curled the left side of his mouth, silently communicating that she was safe. Not that she seemed to be in much turmoil now as she actively came to Eddie's defense.

Chrissy hadn’t even realized she’d stopped breathing until Eddie appeared like some chaotic guardian angel armed with trivia and threats. For a split second, her wide eyes flicked toward him, glossy with fear and relief, and *disbelief* tangled together. Jason’s hand fell away from her wrist, but not because he was ashamed. Because he was furious. Chrissy instinctively pressed closer to the counter, like distance alone might defuse him. “Jason, stop!” she snapped, voice trembling despite how hard she tried to steady it. “Let’s just… go back to the party. It’s nothing.”

Jason ignored her. His jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed in his temple. Eyes locked on Eddie. His gaze was dark, narrowed, and predatory like he wanted to rip out the other man’s throat. “You think this is funny, freak?” Jason muttered, taking a step forward. “You been listening in?”

Chrissy reached for his arm gently, desperate. “Jason, stop, let’s just go. Please. I swear, it’s not what you think.” Her voice cracked, betraying her fear. Jason shook her off roughly, not enough to send her stumbling, but enough to sting. Chrissy’s breath hitched at her temple connected with a nearby shelf and she winced.

“You stay out of this, Chris,” he snapped over his shoulder without looking at her. “I’m talking to the burnout who’s obsessed with you.” Chrissy flinched at the implication, fear and panic roiling hot under her skin but Not for her, for Eddie. Jason stepped even closer to Eddie, nose almost brushing his. “Didn’t know she needed a guard dog. Thought she had a boyfriend.” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Unless she’s been busy.”

Chrissy’s voice burst out then, cracked and pleading, tears forming. “Jason, I haven’t..nothing happened! I swear! Please stop, you’re making a scene.” Her hands wrung together, fingers shaking. Jason finally turned to face her fully, cruelty twisting his features.

“Oh, I’m making a scene? You sneak around with the trailer trash freak and *I’m* making a scene?” He laughed bitterly. “You want honesty? Fine. Tell me right now, did you come here hoping he’d follow you home?”

"Listen, asshole, whatever you think is going on between Chrissy and I is nothing more than your own delusional insecurities. Probably due to the fact that you're a limp-dicked jockstrap with the IQ of a thumbtack. Let me break it down into simpler words for you." Eddie held his ground against Jason's proximity, signature smirk taunting as he fixed his eyes on him. "To keep a girlfriend, you have to be nice and treat her like you actually care about her. Otherwise she may or may not go elsewhere to get away from you. You're digging your own grave, man," Eddie swallowed, smirk falling as his eyes shifted into a predatory gaze; like a wolf staring down the prey he'd cornered.

"The only trash I see here is you. If you have a problem with me, let's say we solve it outside? Don't make Chrissy your punching bag just because you're scared of me beating the shit out of you. Pussy move if you ask me," Eddie scoffed. "Chrissy, don't waste your breath, please," he asked, cutting off her incredibly flattering defense in favor of him. "And I'd highly recommend not going home with someone who just busted your head on a shelf. You should put some ice on that by the way," he said matter-of factly, shifting his stare from Jason's to flicker his eyes over to her. Holding a stern look, wishing he could move her with his mind; up and away from the situation, into the kitchen, with a fresh ice pack on her head. He reluctantly turned back to Jason.

Chrissy froze when her back struck the edge of the shelving, pain blooming dull and warm at the base of her skull. Her hand instinctively reached behind to cradle it, palm shaking. She blinked rapidly, vision swimming for a moment. Eddie’s words reached her through a haze; sharp, furious, protective. She didn’t think she’d ever heard someone talk like that for her. Certainly not to Jason. Her lips parted and her breath trembled. Chrissy’s Blue eyes darted between the two boys.” Eddie, please don’t—” she whispered, voice barely audible over the music. She wasn’t sure if she was begging him not to fight, or begging him not to leave her alone with Jason. Maybe both…

Jason turned then, just enough to catch that small, pained gesture as Chrissy held the back of her head. There was definitely a bruise forming. The dizzy sway. Something flickered across his face, not guilt, but calculation. The kind that made her stomach drop. “Oh, come *on*,” Jason scoffed, sneering at Eddie. “She bumped her head. Drama queen.” His gaze snapped back to Eddie and he stepped closer, the false bravado in his voice rising. “You really wanna go outside? You think because you deal dime bags you’re some kinda tough guy?”

Chrissy’s breath caught, throat tight. “Jason, stop,” she pleaded, pushing off the counter toward them. Her knees wobbled slightly, but she steadied herself. “Please just…just leave it alone.” Jason pointed at her without looking. “You stay out of it.” The command was venom. And Chrissy recoiled like she’d been slapped.

Jason’s focus returned to Eddie, and he leaned forward until there was barely air between them, voice dropping low and ice-cold. “You really think I’m scared of you? I’m not scared of a freak hiding behind his hair and devil music.”

His fists clenched at his sides. “But you wanna step outside?” He tilted his head toward the back door. “Fine. We’ll finish this like men.”He started to turn away but then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Chrissy with a mocking grin. “Don’t wander off, babe. Wouldn’t want you getting lost on the way home.”

The two finally made their way to the backyard of the house, concealed behind a fence from passerbys. "No ganging up on me, Carver. It's just you and me. No one el--" Jason interrupted him with a haughty laugh. "You think I can't kick your ass all on my own? Did you forget about the bloody nose I gave you in the bathroom in 9th grade, or do I need to give you a refresher?" Eddie nodded, expression stoic. "Yeah, and that was a sucker punch, not a real hit. Let's see how you do when I can see you from the start."

Eddie barely has time to duck before fists start flying, shoes tearing up the grass as they crash into each other. Eddie fights wild and desperate, adrenaline screaming louder than the bass ever did, while Jason comes in heavy-hitting and relentless, every blow fueled by rage and ignorance. They slam into a picnic table, knocking drinks to the ground, bodies grappling and shoving as the gathering crowd circles in shock. Eddie laughs around the blood trickling from his lip, swinging back with reckless abandon. With the fuel of an anger that's been brewing since childhood.

Jason lay stunned for a moment, the world tilting violently as the grass pressed into his cheek. His jaw throbbed with a white hot, nauseating pain that radiated through his skull. He spat blood to the side, coughing, eyes unfocused but burning with humiliation. The click of the knife cut through the ringing in his ears, and whatever fight he had left drained straight out of him.

“You’re dead…” he rasped hoarsely, though the words lacked conviction now, and were honestly more wounded pride than threat. His chest heaved as he shoved Eddie’s hand away and struggled upright, swaying. “You hear me, Freak? This isn’t over.” But even as he said it, Jason backed away a step, then another with hand hovering protectively near his jaw. The crowd watching didn’t look impressed. They looked shocked. Some looked scared. And worst of all..some looked like they were on Eddie’s side. Just then, Jason’s eyes flicked toward the back door. Toward chrissy, where she stood frozen just inside the doorway, the dish towel pressed shakily to the back of her head. The cold seeped into her skin grounding her just enough to register what she’d seen.

Eddie standing over Jason…Blood on Eddie’s lip…Jason on the ground. Her breath came in short, uneven gasps. Tears streaked silently down her cheeks, not just from fear, but from the release of it. From the knowledge that someone had finally stepped in. That she hadn’t been invisible…and When Jason’s eyes met hers, she flinched. But then… she straightened… and Her hand tightened around the ice pack, knuckles whitening. Her voice shook, but it didn’t disappear..not like all the times it had before.

“Don’t.” she said quietly. Jason blinked, stunned. “Chrissy—” He tried..but no dice. “Don’t touch me.” she whispered, taking a step back. Her heart hammered, but she didn’t look away. “I’m not going home with you.” The words felt unreal, Dangerous, and Freeing she felt like she wasn’t allowed to say them. Still, Jason stared at her like she’d struck him harder than Eddie ever could. “You don’t mean that.—“ he started. “I do,” Chrissy said, tears slipping faster now. “I’m scared of you.”

Silence fell heavy between them then, and Jason’s face hardened, this time not with rage this time, but something colder. “You’re choosing him?” he scoffed weakly, gesturing toward the yard. “After all this?” Chrissy swallowed, shoulders trembling. “I’m choosing myself…and choosing Eddie? That’s not hard..he’s a better person than you’ll EVER be.” At those words Jason’s jaw clenched. For a moment it looked like he might say more, might explode again…might…

Hawkins was loud tonight. Music thumped through the house which belonged to one of Jason’s buddy’s, bass rattling the walls, beer sloshing in red cups, laughter spilling into every corner. Chrissy Cunningham stood near the edge of it all, fingers curled tightly around her drink she hadn’t touched in a while. She wore a careful smile, the kind she’d perfected over years, but it felt brittle now,like one wrong word might shatter it.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, toward the front door, toward anywhere that wasn’t here.

Because Eddie wasn’t here.

Because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t come tonight… and still

Jason had been drinking. She could tell by the way his arm slung too heavily around her shoulders, by the sharp edge creeping into his voice whenever someone mentioned Hellfire or freaks or that Munson guy. Chrissy stiffened every time she heard the name, her stomach twisting with guilt and something softer, warmer, more dangerous. The memories of quiet laughter, of Eddie’s crooked grin, of the way he looked at her like he actually. *saw* her.

Jason’s grip tightened. “Why’d I hear Eddie Munson’s name outta your mouth the other night?” he asked, leaning down so only she could hear. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thought you said you were at cheer stuff.”

Chrissy’s heart dropped. Her breath caught, fingers tightening around the cup until it nearly bent. “I—I was..” she said quickly, too quickly. “I just..I ran into him, that’s all.” Jason scoffed, pulling her a step away from the crowd, fingers digging into her wrist, not enough to leave marks, but enough to hurt. Enough to scare her.

“Don’t lie to me, Chrissy.” he snapped, voice low and sharp. “You don’t run into guys like him. You sneak around with them.” His eyes burned into hers. “You fucking with him? Huh? That freak get inside your head?”

Her chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in. “No..” she whispered, shaking her head, curls bouncing. “Jason, please—”

He laughed, bitter and ugly. “God, you’re unbelievable.” His grip tightened for just a second more before he let go, leaving her arm throbbing. “I should’ve known. Little miss perfect, sneaking around behind my back.” Chrissy stumbled slightly, catching herself on the counter. Her vision blurred and not just from fear, but from heartbreak. From the crushing realization that the boy she was supposed to love felt like a stranger… and the ones she was lying about felt like home.

Across the room, the music roared on, oblivious. Chrissy swallowed hard, lifting her chin even as her hands trembled, standing on the edge of a choice she knew she couldn’t avoid much longer.

He could've passed up this business opportunity. Truly. Though he needed every penny, he was doing alright for himself. Certainly making enough to skip this. However, when Chrissy Cunningham casually mentioned it after their usual transaction yesterday, he ran out of reasons not to go. Not that they could even interact in public if Jason was nearby. Though they'd never spoken of Jason's jealousy, Eddie could put two and two together. Between the glares he began throwing him, to the way Chrissy shifted away from Eddie in the hallway if she saw Jason approaching. Not to mention the two of them had been feuding years before Chrissy started dating him. Jason had the bold, grating confidence of someone who's never been told to shut up in their entire life. That is, until he met Eddie, who delighted in telling Jason to shut up in one way or another every few months. Still, he would play nice. He knew trying to beat Jason at his own game would only make Chrissy's life more difficult. Which he cared more about than winning a pissing contest with someone who probably finger-guns his reflection in the mornings before school. Right after his bowl of Wheaties.

Yes, Eddie would've stuck to this plan and been perfectly satisfied. Chrissy and he had shared a moment of connection earlier in the form of eye contact and a subtle smile. That was enough to sustain him until he saw her again. But fate had other plans, as it often does.

Finishing up his beer, he rose to deposit the bottle into the trash. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed Chrissy and Jason involved in what looked like a suspiciously heated conversation. Eddie watched as Jason pulled Chrissy toward the hallway, eyes laser locked to Jason's hand gripping around her tiny wrist. A grasp that he knew was much too tight just by eyeballing it. He looked around to see if anyone noticed, but per usual the crowd was consumed with their own social lives and alcohol quota. Cautiously, Eddie made his way around the side of the kitchen bar closest to the hallway, gauging the situation. Not that he wouldn't get absolutely pummeled by all of Jason's jockstrap lemmings if he did try and beat the shit out of him. And yet, that didn't deter him. It would be worth it if Jason was hurting Chrissy.

The moment he heard Chrissy sticking up for him, and saw the look in Jason's eyes; that white hot rage which communicated he would be doing more than grabbing Chrissy's wrist, Eddie panicked and approached with the first thought to rattle through his brain like a Connect Four disk.

"Hey guys, did you know a group of jellyfish is called a smack?" He paused a beat, glancing over at Chrissy to study her expression. She looked to be an equal mix of terrified and confused. He offered her a ghost of a smile that curled the left side of his mouth, silently communicating that she was safe. Not that she seemed to be in much turmoil now as she actively came to Eddie's defense.

Chrissy hadn’t even realized she’d stopped breathing until Eddie appeared like some chaotic guardian angel armed with trivia and threats. For a split second, her wide eyes flicked toward him, glossy with fear and relief, and *disbelief* tangled together. Jason’s hand fell away from her wrist, but not because he was ashamed. Because he was furious. Chrissy instinctively pressed closer to the counter, like distance alone might defuse him. “Jason, stop!” she snapped, voice trembling despite how hard she tried to steady it. “Let’s just… go back to the party. It’s nothing.”

Jason ignored her. His jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed in his temple. Eyes locked on Eddie. His gaze was dark, narrowed, and predatory like he wanted to rip out the other man’s throat. “You think this is funny, freak?” Jason muttered, taking a step forward. “You been listening in?”

Chrissy reached for his arm gently, desperate. “Jason, stop, let’s just go. Please. I swear, it’s not what you think.” Her voice cracked, betraying her fear. Jason shook her off roughly, not enough to send her stumbling, but enough to sting. Chrissy’s breath hitched at her temple connected with a nearby shelf and she winced.

“You stay out of this, Chris,” he snapped over his shoulder without looking at her. “I’m talking to the burnout who’s obsessed with you.” Chrissy flinched at the implication, fear and panic roiling hot under her skin but Not for her, for Eddie. Jason stepped even closer to Eddie, nose almost brushing his. “Didn’t know she needed a guard dog. Thought she had a boyfriend.” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Unless she’s been busy.”

Chrissy’s voice burst out then, cracked and pleading, tears forming. “Jason, I haven’t..nothing happened! I swear! Please stop, you’re making a scene.” Her hands wrung together, fingers shaking. Jason finally turned to face her fully, cruelty twisting his features.

“Oh, I’m making a scene? You sneak around with the trailer trash freak and *I’m* making a scene?” He laughed bitterly. “You want honesty? Fine. Tell me right now, did you come here hoping he’d follow you home?”

"Listen, asshole, whatever you think is going on between Chrissy and I is nothing more than your own delusional insecurities. Probably due to the fact that you're a limp-dicked jockstrap with the IQ of a thumbtack. Let me break it down into simpler words for you." Eddie held his ground against Jason's proximity, signature smirk taunting as he fixed his eyes on him. "To keep a girlfriend, you have to be nice and treat her like you actually care about her. Otherwise she may or may not go elsewhere to get away from you. You're digging your own grave, man," Eddie swallowed, smirk falling as his eyes shifted into a predatory gaze; like a wolf staring down the prey he'd cornered.

"The only trash I see here is you. If you have a problem with me, let's say we solve it outside? Don't make Chrissy your punching bag just because you're scared of me beating the shit out of you. Pussy move if you ask me," Eddie scoffed. "Chrissy, don't waste your breath, please," he asked, cutting off her incredibly flattering defense in favor of him. "And I'd highly recommend not going home with someone who just busted your head on a shelf. You should put some ice on that by the way," he said matter-of factly, shifting his stare from Jason's to flicker his eyes over to her. Holding a stern look, wishing he could move her with his mind; up and away from the situation, into the kitchen, with a fresh ice pack on her head. He reluctantly turned back to Jason.

Chrissy froze when her back struck the edge of the shelving, pain blooming dull and warm at the base of her skull. Her hand instinctively reached behind to cradle it, palm shaking. She blinked rapidly, vision swimming for a moment. Eddie’s words reached her through a haze; sharp, furious, protective. She didn’t think she’d ever heard someone talk like that for her. Certainly not to Jason. Her lips parted and her breath trembled. Chrissy’s Blue eyes darted between the two boys.” Eddie, please don’t—” she whispered, voice barely audible over the music. She wasn’t sure if she was begging him not to fight, or begging him not to leave her alone with Jason. Maybe both…

Jason turned then, just enough to catch that small, pained gesture as Chrissy held the back of her head. There was definitely a bruise forming. The dizzy sway. Something flickered across his face, not guilt, but calculation. The kind that made her stomach drop. “Oh, come *on*,” Jason scoffed, sneering at Eddie. “She bumped her head. Drama queen.” His gaze snapped back to Eddie and he stepped closer, the false bravado in his voice rising. “You really wanna go outside? You think because you deal dime bags you’re some kinda tough guy?”

Chrissy’s breath caught, throat tight. “Jason, stop,” she pleaded, pushing off the counter toward them. Her knees wobbled slightly, but she steadied herself. “Please just…just leave it alone.” Jason pointed at her without looking. “You stay out of it.” The command was venom. And Chrissy recoiled like she’d been slapped.

Jason’s focus returned to Eddie, and he leaned forward until there was barely air between them, voice dropping low and ice-cold. “You really think I’m scared of you? I’m not scared of a freak hiding behind his hair and devil music.”

His fists clenched at his sides. “But you wanna step outside?” He tilted his head toward the back door. “Fine. We’ll finish this like men.”He started to turn away but then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Chrissy with a mocking grin. “Don’t wander off, babe. Wouldn’t want you getting lost on the way home.”

The two finally made their way to the backyard of the house, concealed behind a fence from passerbys. "No ganging up on me, Carver. It's just you and me. No one el--" Jason interrupted him with a haughty laugh. "You think I can't kick your ass all on my own? Did you forget about the bloody nose I gave you in the bathroom in 9th grade, or do I need to give you a refresher?" Eddie nodded, expression stoic. "Yeah, and that was a sucker punch, not a real hit. Let's see how you do when I can see you from the start."

Eddie barely has time to duck before fists start flying, shoes tearing up the grass as they crash into each other. Eddie fights wild and desperate, adrenaline screaming louder than the bass ever did, while Jason comes in heavy-hitting and relentless, every blow fueled by rage and ignorance. They slam into a picnic table, knocking drinks to the ground, bodies grappling and shoving as the gathering crowd circles in shock. Eddie laughs around the blood trickling from his lip, swinging back with reckless abandon. With the fuel of an anger that's been brewing since childhood.

"Chrissy! Wake up!

If this is a joke, it's messed up, a whole new level of messed up.

"Chrissy! C'mon, this isn't funny. Wake up!"

He snaps his fingers in front of her face, nothing. Not even the smallest signs of recognition.

"hellooooooo.. Chrissy.. I don't like this.."

Had she already taken something before he'd met up with her again? She hadn't said so, and how would she even get hold of anything? This isn't like any reaction he's seen before, her eyes.. they're white over, and it's freaking her out.

Hands on her face now, gently tapping her cheeks, hoping for anything. Any kind of reaction. But nothing, nothing at all.

"shit, shit, shit.. CHRISSY!!!"

He's panicking, she won't wake up. Something has gone wrong and apparently it's down to him to fix it.

Or maybe, maybe this is a really fucking bad trip and he's imagining it. He's taken some bad shit and this is the nightmare fuel it's pumping into his brain. How else could he explain that Chrissy is now FUCKING FLOATING A FOOT FROM THE GROUND.

Eddie stumbles back, on the verge of a coronary and a complete mental breakdown all wrapped up in one happy little package.

"fuck fuck FUCK.. CHRISSY!!!!!"

She's still floating, higher and higher, until she's up against the ceiling, her eyes and mouth wide.

"Jesus fuck.."

The urge to run is almost overwhelming, but his legs are frozen with fear. Any attempt to move results in him stumbling over the coffee table and face planting on the couch. Flailing limbs knocking the radio to the ground and subsequently bursting to life with the terrible local radio station at the worst possible moment.

"fuck...shut up.. SHUT UP" he tells at the inanimate object on the floor, playing some terrible pop song from an equally terrible pop group he couldn't name if his life depended on it.

He'll have to attempt to unpack all of it later however, because the terrified and broken looking girl sitting on his couch is his absolute priority. He has so many questions, none of which seem appropriate right now. Chrissy wants safety, not a million questions for which she doesn't have answers.

"Crazy? Nah, you're not crazy. 'Cos if you're crazy then that means I'm crazy too, and I'm the sanest person I know." He offers a small smile, and tentatively reaches to wipe away another errant tear from her cheek with his thumb. She looks as thought she could shatter into a thousand tiny pieces at any moment, but he's not going to let that happen.

"So what you're sayin' is that you need a distraction?" Eddie choosing the change up the tone, doing what he always does when shit goes bad and leaning heavily on humour as a diversion tactic. "Well holy shit are you in luck Princess, because that happens to be my speciality. Seriously, it's written on every report card I've ever gotten."

His hands wrap around hers, enveloping them completely. Has she always been so tiny? Sure she's always been petite, but she appears to have shrunk since the-thing-that-they're-not-mentioning-anymore-tonight happened. He could scoop her up and keep her safe in his pocket.

"Here's a proposal, I'm really jonesing for a cigarette right now but I don't wanna get you stinking like an ashtray, sooo.. how about you wrap yourself like a burrito in the blanket and come outside with me. After which, we lay claim to the couch for the night and watch dumb movies until we fall asleep. And if you snore like an asthmatic yak, I promise I won't smother you with a pillow."

Eddie gets to his feet, a little clumsily as his left leg is feeling somewhat numb. He offers a hand out to Chrissy to help her up from the couch, but doesn't let go when she it stood, instead he keeps a tight hold of it until they're out on the porch under the yellowy glow of the solitary light fending off the surrounding darkness, only letting go when he needs to reach into his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter.

The first drag is long and deep, the rush of nicotine beginning to soothe his frayed nerves almost immediately. Eddie leans on the wooden rail of the porch, staring out across the trailer park as the residents go about their lives with zero clue about the strange events which took place just yards away from them.

Chrissy didn’t take the cigarette, but her hand lingered near Eddie’s for a beat before she pulled her arms around herself, blanket wrapped tight like armor. The night air was cool, biting in a way that felt grounding.

The glow from the porch light carved soft shadows across her face, highlighting the exhaustion in her eyes. She stared out at the rows of quiet trailers, the hum of the park settling into its usual nighttime lull. For a long moment, she just breathed in slowly, like she was trying to remember how.

Finally, her voice came quietly and filtered through that practiced cheerleader softness, but without the usual shine. “I didn’t want to go.” she admitted, her eyes fixed somewhere far away. “The thought of smiling for another three hours… pretending I’m happy to be there, smiling when Jason wants me to smile, laughing when he expects me to—” She shook her head, a small, brittle laugh escaping. “I’m tired of pretending.”

Chrissy leaned her shoulder against the railing beside him, gripping the blanket tighter. “I know it looks like I love it. The uniform. The ponytail. The cheers. But it’s all just… what everyone expects me to be.” Her voice dropped lower. “What Jason expects.”

Another beat passed. “And lately he’s been…” Her brows knit, struggling to find a word that didn’t sound like betrayal. “Different. Short with me. Frustrated. I don’t know if it’s me disappointing him, or if he’s just… bored…if I’m not living up to his expectations?” Her tone didn’t sharpen, because she wasn’t angry. She just sounded tired, and worn down. “I didn’t feel like giving him another reason to criticize me tonight, giving another piece of me away.”

"Chrissy! Wake up!

If this is a joke, it's messed up, a whole new level of messed up.

"Chrissy! C'mon, this isn't funny. Wake up!"

He snaps his fingers in front of her face, nothing. Not even the smallest signs of recognition.

"hellooooooo.. Chrissy.. I don't like this.."

Had she already taken something before he'd met up with her again? She hadn't said so, and how would she even get hold of anything? This isn't like any reaction he's seen before, her eyes.. they're white over, and it's freaking her out.

Hands on her face now, gently tapping her cheeks, hoping for anything. Any kind of reaction. But nothing, nothing at all.

"shit, shit, shit.. CHRISSY!!!"

He's panicking, she won't wake up. Something has gone wrong and apparently it's down to him to fix it.

Or maybe, maybe this is a really fucking bad trip and he's imagining it. He's taken some bad shit and this is the nightmare fuel it's pumping into his brain. How else could he explain that Chrissy is now FUCKING FLOATING A FOOT FROM THE GROUND.

Eddie stumbles back, on the verge of a coronary and a complete mental breakdown all wrapped up in one happy little package.

"fuck fuck FUCK.. CHRISSY!!!!!"

She's still floating, higher and higher, until she's up against the ceiling, her eyes and mouth wide.

"Jesus fuck.."

The urge to run is almost overwhelming, but his legs are frozen with fear. Any attempt to move results in him stumbling over the coffee table and face planting on the couch. Flailing limbs knocking the radio to the ground and subsequently bursting to life with the terrible local radio station at the worst possible moment.

"fuck...shut up.. SHUT UP" he tells at the inanimate object on the floor, playing some terrible pop song from an equally terrible pop group he couldn't name if his life depended on it.

He'll have to attempt to unpack all of it later however, because the terrified and broken looking girl sitting on his couch is his absolute priority. He has so many questions, none of which seem appropriate right now. Chrissy wants safety, not a million questions for which she doesn't have answers.

"Crazy? Nah, you're not crazy. 'Cos if you're crazy then that means I'm crazy too, and I'm the sanest person I know." He offers a small smile, and tentatively reaches to wipe away another errant tear from her cheek with his thumb. She looks as thought she could shatter into a thousand tiny pieces at any moment, but he's not going to let that happen.

"So what you're sayin' is that you need a distraction?" Eddie choosing the change up the tone, doing what he always does when shit goes bad and leaning heavily on humour as a diversion tactic. "Well holy shit are you in luck Princess, because that happens to be my speciality. Seriously, it's written on every report card I've ever gotten."

His hands wrap around hers, enveloping them completely. Has she always been so tiny? Sure she's always been petite, but she appears to have shrunk since the-thing-that-they're-not-mentioning-anymore-tonight happened. He could scoop her up and keep her safe in his pocket.

"Here's a proposal, I'm really jonesing for a cigarette right now but I don't wanna get you stinking like an ashtray, sooo.. how about you wrap yourself like a burrito in the blanket and come outside with me. After which, we lay claim to the couch for the night and watch dumb movies until we fall asleep. And if you snore like an asthmatic yak, I promise I won't smother you with a pillow."

Eddie gets to his feet, a little clumsily as his left leg is feeling somewhat numb. He offers a hand out to Chrissy to help her up from the couch, but doesn't let go when she it stood, instead he keeps a tight hold of it until they're out on the porch under the yellowy glow of the solitary light fending off the surrounding darkness, only letting go when he needs to reach into his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter.

The first drag is long and deep, the rush of nicotine beginning to soothe his frayed nerves almost immediately. Eddie leans on the wooden rail of the porch, staring out across the trailer park as the residents go about their lives with zero clue about the strange events which took place just yards away from them.

Hawkins was loud tonight. Music thumped through the house which belonged to one of Jason’s buddy’s, bass rattling the walls, beer sloshing in red cups, laughter spilling into every corner. Chrissy Cunningham stood near the edge of it all, fingers curled tightly around her drink she hadn’t touched in a while. She wore a careful smile, the kind she’d perfected over years, but it felt brittle now,like one wrong word might shatter it.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, toward the front door, toward anywhere that wasn’t here.

Because Eddie wasn’t here.

Because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t come tonight… and still

Jason had been drinking. She could tell by the way his arm slung too heavily around her shoulders, by the sharp edge creeping into his voice whenever someone mentioned Hellfire or freaks or that Munson guy. Chrissy stiffened every time she heard the name, her stomach twisting with guilt and something softer, warmer, more dangerous. The memories of quiet laughter, of Eddie’s crooked grin, of the way he looked at her like he actually. *saw* her.

Jason’s grip tightened. “Why’d I hear Eddie Munson’s name outta your mouth the other night?” he asked, leaning down so only she could hear. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thought you said you were at cheer stuff.”

Chrissy’s heart dropped. Her breath caught, fingers tightening around the cup until it nearly bent. “I—I was..” she said quickly, too quickly. “I just..I ran into him, that’s all.” Jason scoffed, pulling her a step away from the crowd, fingers digging into her wrist, not enough to leave marks, but enough to hurt. Enough to scare her.

“Don’t lie to me, Chrissy.” he snapped, voice low and sharp. “You don’t run into guys like him. You sneak around with them.” His eyes burned into hers. “You fucking with him? Huh? That freak get inside your head?”

Her chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in. “No..” she whispered, shaking her head, curls bouncing. “Jason, please—”

He laughed, bitter and ugly. “God, you’re unbelievable.” His grip tightened for just a second more before he let go, leaving her arm throbbing. “I should’ve known. Little miss perfect, sneaking around behind my back.” Chrissy stumbled slightly, catching herself on the counter. Her vision blurred and not just from fear, but from heartbreak. From the crushing realization that the boy she was supposed to love felt like a stranger… and the ones she was lying about felt like home.

Across the room, the music roared on, oblivious. Chrissy swallowed hard, lifting her chin even as her hands trembled, standing on the edge of a choice she knew she couldn’t avoid much longer.

He could've passed up this business opportunity. Truly. Though he needed every penny, he was doing alright for himself. Certainly making enough to skip this. However, when Chrissy Cunningham casually mentioned it after their usual transaction yesterday, he ran out of reasons not to go. Not that they could even interact in public if Jason was nearby. Though they'd never spoken of Jason's jealousy, Eddie could put two and two together. Between the glares he began throwing him, to the way Chrissy shifted away from Eddie in the hallway if she saw Jason approaching. Not to mention the two of them had been feuding years before Chrissy started dating him. Jason had the bold, grating confidence of someone who's never been told to shut up in their entire life. That is, until he met Eddie, who delighted in telling Jason to shut up in one way or another every few months. Still, he would play nice. He knew trying to beat Jason at his own game would only make Chrissy's life more difficult. Which he cared more about than winning a pissing contest with someone who probably finger-guns his reflection in the mornings before school. Right after his bowl of Wheaties.

Yes, Eddie would've stuck to this plan and been perfectly satisfied. Chrissy and he had shared a moment of connection earlier in the form of eye contact and a subtle smile. That was enough to sustain him until he saw her again. But fate had other plans, as it often does.

Finishing up his beer, he rose to deposit the bottle into the trash. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed Chrissy and Jason involved in what looked like a suspiciously heated conversation. Eddie watched as Jason pulled Chrissy toward the hallway, eyes laser locked to Jason's hand gripping around her tiny wrist. A grasp that he knew was much too tight just by eyeballing it. He looked around to see if anyone noticed, but per usual the crowd was consumed with their own social lives and alcohol quota. Cautiously, Eddie made his way around the side of the kitchen bar closest to the hallway, gauging the situation. Not that he wouldn't get absolutely pummeled by all of Jason's jockstrap lemmings if he did try and beat the shit out of him. And yet, that didn't deter him. It would be worth it if Jason was hurting Chrissy.

The moment he heard Chrissy sticking up for him, and saw the look in Jason's eyes; that white hot rage which communicated he would be doing more than grabbing Chrissy's wrist, Eddie panicked and approached with the first thought to rattle through his brain like a Connect Four disk.

"Hey guys, did you know a group of jellyfish is called a smack?" He paused a beat, glancing over at Chrissy to study her expression. She looked to be an equal mix of terrified and confused. He offered her a ghost of a smile that curled the left side of his mouth, silently communicating that she was safe. Not that she seemed to be in much turmoil now as she actively came to Eddie's defense.

Chrissy hadn’t even realized she’d stopped breathing until Eddie appeared like some chaotic guardian angel armed with trivia and threats. For a split second, her wide eyes flicked toward him, glossy with fear and relief, and *disbelief* tangled together. Jason’s hand fell away from her wrist, but not because he was ashamed. Because he was furious. Chrissy instinctively pressed closer to the counter, like distance alone might defuse him. “Jason, stop!” she snapped, voice trembling despite how hard she tried to steady it. “Let’s just… go back to the party. It’s nothing.”

Jason ignored her. His jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed in his temple. Eyes locked on Eddie. His gaze was dark, narrowed, and predatory like he wanted to rip out the other man’s throat. “You think this is funny, freak?” Jason muttered, taking a step forward. “You been listening in?”

Chrissy reached for his arm gently, desperate. “Jason, stop, let’s just go. Please. I swear, it’s not what you think.” Her voice cracked, betraying her fear. Jason shook her off roughly, not enough to send her stumbling, but enough to sting. Chrissy’s breath hitched at her temple connected with a nearby shelf and she winced.

“You stay out of this, Chris,” he snapped over his shoulder without looking at her. “I’m talking to the burnout who’s obsessed with you.” Chrissy flinched at the implication, fear and panic roiling hot under her skin but Not for her, for Eddie. Jason stepped even closer to Eddie, nose almost brushing his. “Didn’t know she needed a guard dog. Thought she had a boyfriend.” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Unless she’s been busy.”

Chrissy’s voice burst out then, cracked and pleading, tears forming. “Jason, I haven’t..nothing happened! I swear! Please stop, you’re making a scene.” Her hands wrung together, fingers shaking. Jason finally turned to face her fully, cruelty twisting his features.

“Oh, I’m making a scene? You sneak around with the trailer trash freak and *I’m* making a scene?” He laughed bitterly. “You want honesty? Fine. Tell me right now, did you come here hoping he’d follow you home?”

"Listen, asshole, whatever you think is going on between Chrissy and I is nothing more than your own delusional insecurities. Probably due to the fact that you're a limp-dicked jockstrap with the IQ of a thumbtack. Let me break it down into simpler words for you." Eddie held his ground against Jason's proximity, signature smirk taunting as he fixed his eyes on him. "To keep a girlfriend, you have to be nice and treat her like you actually care about her. Otherwise she may or may not go elsewhere to get away from you. You're digging your own grave, man," Eddie swallowed, smirk falling as his eyes shifted into a predatory gaze; like a wolf staring down the prey he'd cornered.

"The only trash I see here is you. If you have a problem with me, let's say we solve it outside? Don't make Chrissy your punching bag just because you're scared of me beating the shit out of you. Pussy move if you ask me," Eddie scoffed. "Chrissy, don't waste your breath, please," he asked, cutting off her incredibly flattering defense in favor of him. "And I'd highly recommend not going home with someone who just busted your head on a shelf. You should put some ice on that by the way," he said matter-of factly, shifting his stare from Jason's to flicker his eyes over to her. Holding a stern look, wishing he could move her with his mind; up and away from the situation, into the kitchen, with a fresh ice pack on her head. He reluctantly turned back to Jason.

Chrissy froze when her back struck the edge of the shelving, pain blooming dull and warm at the base of her skull. Her hand instinctively reached behind to cradle it, palm shaking. She blinked rapidly, vision swimming for a moment. Eddie’s words reached her through a haze; sharp, furious, protective. She didn’t think she’d ever heard someone talk like that for her. Certainly not to Jason. Her lips parted and her breath trembled. Chrissy’s Blue eyes darted between the two boys.” Eddie, please don’t—” she whispered, voice barely audible over the music. She wasn’t sure if she was begging him not to fight, or begging him not to leave her alone with Jason. Maybe both…

Jason turned then, just enough to catch that small, pained gesture as Chrissy held the back of her head. There was definitely a bruise forming. The dizzy sway. Something flickered across his face, not guilt, but calculation. The kind that made her stomach drop. “Oh, come *on*,” Jason scoffed, sneering at Eddie. “She bumped her head. Drama queen.” His gaze snapped back to Eddie and he stepped closer, the false bravado in his voice rising. “You really wanna go outside? You think because you deal dime bags you’re some kinda tough guy?”

Chrissy’s breath caught, throat tight. “Jason, stop,” she pleaded, pushing off the counter toward them. Her knees wobbled slightly, but she steadied herself. “Please just…just leave it alone.” Jason pointed at her without looking. “You stay out of it.” The command was venom. And Chrissy recoiled like she’d been slapped.

Jason’s focus returned to Eddie, and he leaned forward until there was barely air between them, voice dropping low and ice-cold. “You really think I’m scared of you? I’m not scared of a freak hiding behind his hair and devil music.”

His fists clenched at his sides. “But you wanna step outside?” He tilted his head toward the back door. “Fine. We’ll finish this like men.”He started to turn away but then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Chrissy with a mocking grin. “Don’t wander off, babe. Wouldn’t want you getting lost on the way home.”

"Chrissy! Wake up!

If this is a joke, it's messed up, a whole new level of messed up.

"Chrissy! C'mon, this isn't funny. Wake up!"

He snaps his fingers in front of her face, nothing. Not even the smallest signs of recognition.

"hellooooooo.. Chrissy.. I don't like this.."

Had she already taken something before he'd met up with her again? She hadn't said so, and how would she even get hold of anything? This isn't like any reaction he's seen before, her eyes.. they're white over, and it's freaking her out.

Hands on her face now, gently tapping her cheeks, hoping for anything. Any kind of reaction. But nothing, nothing at all.

"shit, shit, shit.. CHRISSY!!!"

He's panicking, she won't wake up. Something has gone wrong and apparently it's down to him to fix it.

Or maybe, maybe this is a really fucking bad trip and he's imagining it. He's taken some bad shit and this is the nightmare fuel it's pumping into his brain. How else could he explain that Chrissy is now FUCKING FLOATING A FOOT FROM THE GROUND.

Eddie stumbles back, on the verge of a coronary and a complete mental breakdown all wrapped up in one happy little package.

"fuck fuck FUCK.. CHRISSY!!!!!"

She's still floating, higher and higher, until she's up against the ceiling, her eyes and mouth wide.

"Jesus fuck.."

The urge to run is almost overwhelming, but his legs are frozen with fear. Any attempt to move results in him stumbling over the coffee table and face planting on the couch. Flailing limbs knocking the radio to the ground and subsequently bursting to life with the terrible local radio station at the worst possible moment.

"fuck...shut up.. SHUT UP" he tells at the inanimate object on the floor, playing some terrible pop song from an equally terrible pop group he couldn't name if his life depended on it.

Pain…It wasn’t just pain, it was electricity..fire and razors tearing through every nerve ending in her body. It was as if something inside her was being pulled apart piece by piece. The cold ceiling pressed hard against her spine, but even that felt distant compared to the agony blazing through her.

Somewhere far away..miles away, maybe, could hear Eddie’s voice. Panicked and Breaking. Desperate. But the words were warped, muffled, as if she were underwater.

She couldn’t scream..She couldn’t breathe.

Her lungs locked like rusted gears and the world tunneled into white, blinding static. The radio let out a sharp, sickening POP, and suddenly gravity returned all at once.

She fell, hard onto the couch cushions, air punching from her lungs in a ragged gasp. Her hands shot to her throat instinctively, delicate fingers trembling so violently she could barely keep them in place. She sucked in lungful after lungful of air that didn’t feel like enough, didn’t feel real.

Her eyes once rolled back in haunting, unnatural white blinked open, now returned to their soft, powdery baby blue. Confused. Terrified.

“E-Eddie—” she choked out, her voice barely more than sandpaper scraping together. Her gaze locked onto him, wide and glassy. She didn’t realize she was shaking, not a gentle tremble, but a full body, violent trembling signaling the edge of shock.

“What… what happened—?” She curled in on herself, knees instinctively drawing toward her chest, as if making her body smaller could keep the terror away. “W-what…?”

Her bottom lip quivered as she stared at him, trying to ground herself, trying to find something, anything that made sense. Eddie’s horrified face didn’t help. If anything, it made her chest constrict even tighter.

Everything spun. Colors and shadows blurred at the edges of her vision. She could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears, louder, louder, drowning out the room. “M-my head…” she whimpered, pressing her shaking fingers to her temples. A wave of dizziness slammed into her so hard she swayed, the room tilting like someone had knocked the world off balance.

But then, with no warning and for no apparent reason, whatever horrific spell had taken over her lost its grip and she falls, hitting the couch hard.

Still frozen in fear, Eddie can only watch. He's shaking and the sound of his rapid heartbeat is so loud in his ears it's almost deafening. Is it over? Or is this some Evil Dead level shit and she's going to try to gouge his eyes out if he moves even an inch closer.

She looks like Chrissy again, except traumatized. Her gentle features and blue eyes filled with terror and confusion. She's back from whatever had taken over her. Chrissy was back and understandably every bit as scared as he was.

He wants to answer her questions, to be able to provide some kind of comfort and reassurance, but he has no answers.

"Chrissy..?"

Can she hear him? He thinks she can. But what the fuck can he say? He can't make this better, and even if he could, would she even want him to? This could all be his fault after all.

Suck it up buttercup, this isn't about you.

Eddie scolds himself mentally. Sure he's scared, but that's nothing compared to what Chrissy must be feeling. He can try to unpack all of this later, probably after smoking half his stash, but right now he needs to get a fucking grip.

"I don't.. I.."

He swallows thickly and hauls himself up into a sitting position, facing Chrissy. His limbs feel heavy despite them still trembling. He takes a deep, shaky breath in a futile attempt to control his breathing and heartbeat.

"jesus christ you're shaking. Here.." tentatively Eddie reaches for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, draping it around her shoulders, then wrapping it around her impossibly tiny frame.

"are you.. okay? Like that's not a stupid fucking question.."

Her head hurts, of course it hurts. Everything probably hurts after whatever the hell that was. But at least he can try to do something about it.

"uhhh.. stay there, I'll be right back."

He's unsteady on his legs as he tries to stand and make his way to the kitchen where he knows there's some Tylenol in a drawer. Shaky hands make it damn near impossible to open the bottle, but by some miracle the lid pops off and he tips out two pills into his hand. Seconds later, and with a bottle of water in his other hand, Eddie returns to Chrissy's, kneeling at her feet.

"it's just Tylenol, I swear." He says, offering the pills to Chrissy. "Take them a-and I'll take you home, 'kay?"

“Take you home.”

They reverberated through her head like bad guitar reverb, bouncing around in all the places she didn’t want touched. Home wasn’t safety. Home was pressure, sharp words, slammed doors. It was everything she had tried to outrun when she knocked on Eddie Munson’s door in the first place.

So she swallowed the pills without hesitation, trusting him fully, instinctively. Trusting Eddie felt easier than trusting herself right now. And after everything he’d just seen, she knew he wouldn’t give her anything to hurt her. Not when she’d just come floating down from the ceiling like a scene out of a nightmare.

“I—I…” she started, but the rest caught in her throat. The hesitation on her face wasn’t subtle. Chrissy was too exhausted to hide it. Her eyes lowered, lashes trembling.”Could… could I maybe just sleep on the couch?” she asked softly. “I— I don’t think I can go home tonight.”

Her breath hitched in that tiny, almost invisible way she had when she was trying hard not to crumble.

“If that’s too much, I can just walk to Jason’s. I just…” She swallowed again, voice quivering. “I don’t want him thinking something bad happened because of you. And… well, you know how he gets.”

The admission came out small, defeated, threaded with a quiet plea.And finally, she looked at him…really looked. Her blue eyes were wide, tired, raw from tears she was still too polite to shed openly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “If it’s not too much of an intrusion,” she whispered, soft and careful, “I’d… feel safer here.”

Home isn't what she wants right now. That's unexpected. She says she feels safer here. Again, unexpected considering what had happened here only minutes before.

"Uhhh... s-sure, yeah." Eddie stammers as he nods his head in agreement. He takes a breath and swallows thickly, pushing down any feelings of uncertainty and confusion. "Absolutely." He begins again, sounding more confident and positive. "The couch is yours, for as long as you want it."

He's still tripping, he has to be. It's the only logical explanation for everything that's happened today. He's taken something without realising, or something has been contaminated and his overactive imagination has been running wild ever since.

Safe. That word echoes around in his thoughts. If he's completely honest, Chrissy has no reason to feel safe here, with him. However she does, so he doesn't want to do anything which would result in her bolting like a some kind of small, scared little animal.

Eddie shifts from kneeling next to Chrissy, to sitting cross legged on the floor before his knees can start complaining. His gaze doesn't move from Chrissy's face, her expression not altering once during their whole exchange. Something bigger is happening, here and with Chrissy in general, things that Eddie can't possibly even start to comprehend.

"You can sleep in my room.." the words spill from his mouth before he knows what is happening and quickly he's scrambling for an explanation which wouldn't leave him sounding like a creep. "..I'd take the couch, obviously. I wasn't suggesting that we.. we.. uhhh.." Eddie looks like a rabbit caught in headlights as the desperately tries to back peddle, gesticulating wildly with his hands in the way that Eddie is prone to do.

Chrissy’s fingers twisted together in her lap, knuckles paling as Eddie rambled himself into knots. She watched him with that soft, attentive concentration she always had like she was trying very hard to stay present, to stay grounded, to not drift back toward whatever horrible place had dragged her upward only minutes ago.

The offer of his room landed like a stone dropped into still water. There was no panic, no shock, just a small widening of her eyes and a slow blink of understanding. She didn’t flinch away, didn’t shrink back like Eddie half expected her to. Instead, she shook her head once, gently.

“No, the couch is fine,” she said quietly, the smallest quaver threading the words. “Really…I—I don’t want you to be uncomfortable..”

She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them loosely. The sweatshirt sleeves swallowed half her hands, and she looked almost childlike sitting there..small, drawn thin by exhaustion and fear she kept contained behind that soft voice. “I don’t need… comfort. Just somewhere that isn’t there.”

Her gaze drifted toward the front door, not longingly, but with a haunted resignation. Home wasn’t an option. Jason’s wasn’t either. That realization seemed to sit heavily over her shoulders. “And you’re not a bad host,” she added, almost as if she needed to reassure him because the silence between them felt suddenly fragile. “You’re the only person who didn’t tell me I was.. crazy..”

A tear slipped free..she brushed it away quickly, embarrassed by the display. “And whatever that was—” she flicked a glance to the ceiling, her breath catching, “I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight.”

She pulled in a slow breath, grounding herself in the couch beneath her..“Just… being somewhere else feels safer.”

The confession sounded wrong coming from her..this place, with this boy, after what just happened. But she meant it. You could hear that in the quiet certainty of her voice.

Her eyes finally met his. Blue, glassy, pleading for something she didn’t have words for. “Would it be okay if… you stayed out here too?” she asked, hesitating like the request might break him. “Just until I fall asleep…or we could both share your bed..I don’t mind, really..I trust you—”

Hawkins was loud tonight. Music thumped through the house which belonged to one of Jason’s buddy’s, bass rattling the walls, beer sloshing in red cups, laughter spilling into every corner. Chrissy Cunningham stood near the edge of it all, fingers curled tightly around her drink she hadn’t touched in a while. She wore a careful smile, the kind she’d perfected over years, but it felt brittle now,like one wrong word might shatter it.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, toward the front door, toward anywhere that wasn’t here.

Because Eddie wasn’t here.

Because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t come tonight… and still

Jason had been drinking. She could tell by the way his arm slung too heavily around her shoulders, by the sharp edge creeping into his voice whenever someone mentioned Hellfire or freaks or that Munson guy. Chrissy stiffened every time she heard the name, her stomach twisting with guilt and something softer, warmer, more dangerous. The memories of quiet laughter, of Eddie’s crooked grin, of the way he looked at her like he actually. *saw* her.

Jason’s grip tightened. “Why’d I hear Eddie Munson’s name outta your mouth the other night?” he asked, leaning down so only she could hear. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thought you said you were at cheer stuff.”

Chrissy’s heart dropped. Her breath caught, fingers tightening around the cup until it nearly bent. “I—I was..” she said quickly, too quickly. “I just..I ran into him, that’s all.” Jason scoffed, pulling her a step away from the crowd, fingers digging into her wrist, not enough to leave marks, but enough to hurt. Enough to scare her.

“Don’t lie to me, Chrissy.” he snapped, voice low and sharp. “You don’t run into guys like him. You sneak around with them.” His eyes burned into hers. “You fucking with him? Huh? That freak get inside your head?”

Her chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in. “No..” she whispered, shaking her head, curls bouncing. “Jason, please—”

He laughed, bitter and ugly. “God, you’re unbelievable.” His grip tightened for just a second more before he let go, leaving her arm throbbing. “I should’ve known. Little miss perfect, sneaking around behind my back.” Chrissy stumbled slightly, catching herself on the counter. Her vision blurred and not just from fear, but from heartbreak. From the crushing realization that the boy she was supposed to love felt like a stranger… and the ones she was lying about felt like home.

Across the room, the music roared on, oblivious. Chrissy swallowed hard, lifting her chin even as her hands trembled, standing on the edge of a choice she knew she couldn’t avoid much longer.

He could've passed up this business opportunity. Truly. Though he needed every penny, he was doing alright for himself. Certainly making enough to skip this. However, when Chrissy Cunningham casually mentioned it after their usual transaction yesterday, he ran out of reasons not to go. Not that they could even interact in public if Jason was nearby. Though they'd never spoken of Jason's jealousy, Eddie could put two and two together. Between the glares he began throwing him, to the way Chrissy shifted away from Eddie in the hallway if she saw Jason approaching. Not to mention the two of them had been feuding years before Chrissy started dating him. Jason had the bold, grating confidence of someone who's never been told to shut up in their entire life. That is, until he met Eddie, who delighted in telling Jason to shut up in one way or another every few months. Still, he would play nice. He knew trying to beat Jason at his own game would only make Chrissy's life more difficult. Which he cared more about than winning a pissing contest with someone who probably finger-guns his reflection in the mornings before school. Right after his bowl of Wheaties.

Yes, Eddie would've stuck to this plan and been perfectly satisfied. Chrissy and he had shared a moment of connection earlier in the form of eye contact and a subtle smile. That was enough to sustain him until he saw her again. But fate had other plans, as it often does.

Finishing up his beer, he rose to deposit the bottle into the trash. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed Chrissy and Jason involved in what looked like a suspiciously heated conversation. Eddie watched as Jason pulled Chrissy toward the hallway, eyes laser locked to Jason's hand gripping around her tiny wrist. A grasp that he knew was much too tight just by eyeballing it. He looked around to see if anyone noticed, but per usual the crowd was consumed with their own social lives and alcohol quota. Cautiously, Eddie made his way around the side of the kitchen bar closest to the hallway, gauging the situation. Not that he wouldn't get absolutely pummeled by all of Jason's jockstrap lemmings if he did try and beat the shit out of him. And yet, that didn't deter him. It would be worth it if Jason was hurting Chrissy.

The moment he heard Chrissy sticking up for him, and saw the look in Jason's eyes; that white hot rage which communicated he would be doing more than grabbing Chrissy's wrist, Eddie panicked and approached with the first thought to rattle through his brain like a Connect Four disk.

"Hey guys, did you know a group of jellyfish is called a smack?" He paused a beat, glancing over at Chrissy to study her expression. She looked to be an equal mix of terrified and confused. He offered her a ghost of a smile that curled the left side of his mouth, silently communicating that she was safe. Not that she seemed to be in much turmoil now as she actively came to Eddie's defense.

Chrissy hadn’t even realized she’d stopped breathing until Eddie appeared like some chaotic guardian angel armed with trivia and threats. For a split second, her wide eyes flicked toward him, glossy with fear and relief, and *disbelief* tangled together. Jason’s hand fell away from her wrist, but not because he was ashamed. Because he was furious. Chrissy instinctively pressed closer to the counter, like distance alone might defuse him. “Jason, stop!” she snapped, voice trembling despite how hard she tried to steady it. “Let’s just… go back to the party. It’s nothing.”

Jason ignored her. His jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed in his temple. Eyes locked on Eddie. His gaze was dark, narrowed, and predatory like he wanted to rip out the other man’s throat. “You think this is funny, freak?” Jason muttered, taking a step forward. “You been listening in?”

Chrissy reached for his arm gently, desperate. “Jason, stop, let’s just go. Please. I swear, it’s not what you think.” Her voice cracked, betraying her fear. Jason shook her off roughly, not enough to send her stumbling, but enough to sting. Chrissy’s breath hitched at her temple connected with a nearby shelf and she winced.

“You stay out of this, Chris,” he snapped over his shoulder without looking at her. “I’m talking to the burnout who’s obsessed with you.” Chrissy flinched at the implication, fear and panic roiling hot under her skin but Not for her, for Eddie. Jason stepped even closer to Eddie, nose almost brushing his. “Didn’t know she needed a guard dog. Thought she had a boyfriend.” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Unless she’s been busy.”

Chrissy’s voice burst out then, cracked and pleading, tears forming. “Jason, I haven’t..nothing happened! I swear! Please stop, you’re making a scene.” Her hands wrung together, fingers shaking. Jason finally turned to face her fully, cruelty twisting his features.

“Oh, I’m making a scene? You sneak around with the trailer trash freak and *I’m* making a scene?” He laughed bitterly. “You want honesty? Fine. Tell me right now, did you come here hoping he’d follow you home?”

domestic steddie where eddie’s doing the dishes & suddenly hears his guitar, only to find steve playing it (badly) while on the phone w robin — eddie just stares, completely in awe, while steve’s like “hold on robs, munson’s looking at me weird”

eddie: i’m looking at you because i love you asshole

steve, into the phone: robs, you heard that?