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“We’re fucked.” Dustin declared with a huff, falling back on his heels, face twisted in a scowl. Steve slapped his arm lightly, frowning. Dustin scoffed, “I think I can swear if we’re t-minus two hours from total world destruction and our untimely deaths.”
“You don’t know that” Steve grimaced, “We always figure it out, right? We’ll figure it out.” Steve glanced across the group at Eddie, his face pale and drawn, the circles under his eyes betrayed his utter lack of sleep over the last few days. “We usually figure it out. Don’t worry.”
“There’s no figuring this out, Steve!” Dustin cried, throwing his hands in the air, and standing up, beginning to pace back and forth, “This is the figured out. We have figured out that we’re all going to die! That’s it! That’s the plan!”
“Give me that,” Nancy jerked the pile of papers and DnD books her way, flipping through the pages hurriedly, “There’s got to be some way.”
“There’s not.” Dustin huffed. Fiddling with his backpack and pulling his walkie-talkie from it. “Suzy-poo? This is Dusty-bun. Suzy-poo do you copy? Over.”
Mike and Will hovered behind Nancy, glancing over the words as she did, nervously. Beside them Max was rewinding her tape, Lucas humming Kate Bush as loudly as he could, although off tune. Jonathan stood by the door to Eddie’s trailer, glancing between the group and the small mob growing outside the trailer. Argyle sat, resting against the trailer wall, rolling a joint. Robin rested against Steve, worrying her bottom lip, biting at the flaking skin, and leaving bloody strips behind.
“Fuck.” Nancy declared, defeated, scared. “Dustin’s right, there’s really no way. We’d need constant music, and loud, to even get close to El and help her. And there’s just…no physical way.”
Eddie gritted his teeth as he stood, his knees aching, his stomach rolling, as he moved towards Jonathan and Argyle. He crouched down in front of Argyle, waiting for him to look up, before reaching out a hand. “Mind if I have a hit? The bathroom has great ventilation.”
Argyle grinned, nodding enthusiastically, “Hey Jonathan! Wanna check out the ventilation in Eddie’s bathroom?” He asked, eyebrows rising and falling comically.
Jonathan rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Nah, thanks, man. Gotta focus.”
Nancy glared at them harshly across the room, Steve’s own glare simmering in the background. Eddie ignored the pair of them, guiding Argyle into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He pulled his lighter from his jeans pocket, and handed it to Argyle who lit the joint, pulling hard at the filter.
“Thanks man, you have no idea how much I needed this, shit.” Argyle grinned, leaning back and blowing towards the ceiling into a fan circulating rapidly above. He passed the joint across to Eddie who took it gratefully, dragging heavily and letting the smoke settle in his lungs, ignoring the urge to cough.
“I’ve always wanted to try the Californian shit,” Eddie laughed, finally letting the air and smoke rush from his lungs into the air, “Heard amazing things.”
“California Green baby,” Argyle beamed, “Nothing like it.”
Eddie took another long pull, handing the joint back to Argyle and letting the smoke go up towards the vent. He shook out his hands, listening to the mob outside. They were much clearer from in here. The vent letting their chants and cries slip into the trailer.
“KILL THE FREAK!”
“MURDERER!”
“MONSTER! SATAN WORSHIPER!”
“YOU KILLED CHRISSY!”
“KILLER!”
“They are not pleased with you dude,” Argyle sighed, following Eddie’s eyeline to the locked and boarded window. “Small towns, small minds.” Argyle tapped his head as he said it, smiling still, “You should come out our way. California sun, California Green, California minds.”
“Maybe,” Eddie’s smile was small and short lived, “Maybe.”
Argyle took another drag, offering the joint back to Eddie which he turned down with a wave, “Nah, I think I’m good. Stronger stuff than I’m used to.”
“Oh, for sure, for sure.” Argyle nodded, going for another hit, “Got to work up to this stuff.”
“Totally,” Eddie said, his voice dull. Instead of the pleasant, warm, giddy high he was used to, he was craving, instead he found his heart shuddering in his chest, threatening to burst. He wasn’t sure if he could blame it on the weed, or the angry mob outside, or the impending doom on the other side of his trailer’s roof. They all seemed plausible, to Eddie at least.
“I’ll see ya out there,” Eddie motioned with his thumb, pointing back at the bathroom door, before shuffling towards it. The bathroom really was too small for two people. Argyle nodded, giving him a double thumbs up, joint perched on his bottom lip. Eddie slipped back out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and coming face to face with a disapproving Steve Harrington.
“There are kids here, Munson. What the fuck?” Steve hissed, moving in closer. Eddie grinned shakily, shrugging his shoulders. Steve shook his head, hair bouncing slightly as he did, “I’m so glad you’re taking our impending deaths so fucking well, Munson, but I’m not. So, if you could at least try and pretend to care, that’d be great.”
“Oh, I care Harrington.” Eddie pushed, pressing his palm against Steve’s chest softly. “I care a whole heap.”
“Well, you’ve got a shit way of showing it.” Steve said through his teeth, pushing back against Eddie.
“We just need loud, constant noise, right Steve?” Eddie asked, pressing only just hard enough to keep Steve at bay.
“Mm.” Steve grunted, “What? Got some ideas you haven’t shared with the class?”
“Maybe,” Eddie grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “My specialty has always been loud, constant noise, I’d say, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not following,” Steve said, his arm falling slightly, the fight disappearing from his stance. “What has that got to do with it?”
“I’m not going to jail Steve,” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer. Steve shivered, jolting backwards, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. The weed was really building, Eddie thought, because Steve had never looked so beautiful. His hair looked so soft.
“What are you even talking about?”
“I’m not going to jail, but I don’t think those people out there would let that happen, Steve. Do you?” Eddie asked, smiling though his eyes had begun to water, just the weed, just a little too high.
“I-I don’t…Eddie what are you planning.” Steve hissed, “If you’ve got some stupid suicide plot you can fucking forget it because we don’t do those here.”
“Don’t you?” Eddie said, pushing past Steve, walking slowly towards his bedroom. Ignoring Steve’s hand pulling at his arm as he did so and waving at Robin who watched him as he moved through the lounge, down the hall.
“Eddie,” Steve called, dodging through the various people dotted around his living, and walking purposefully around the oozing, portal in the ceiling. “Eddie, what the fuck?”
Steve finally succeeded in pulling Eddie around, and grinding him to a halt, in the doorway to his bedroom. Eddie glanced at him, eyebrows raised, smirking. He pushed Steve aside again, clearing his throat before speaking, “We just need a lot of noise, right Wheeler? Loud, constant, noise?”
Nancy glanced up from the piles of information, seemingly useless information, around her. She frowned at Eddie but nodded, lips pursed. “Yes, just noise. But, like we were saying, it’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible, fair lady.” Eddie beamed at them, bowing his head, “Loud, noisy and constant, at your service.”
“Eddie, no.” Steve snapped, followed not far behind by Dustin, glaring at him, Mike shaking his head, and Robin springing to her feet, looking as though she would personally tackle Eddie if he said another word. Eddie took his chances.
“Listen. I’m not getting out of this, no matter what happens. If the world blows up? We’re all dead. If the world miraculously survives? I’m going to jail, and likely a death sentence, or burned at the fucking stake judging by the nutjobs outside. There is no winning this for me. There is no happy ending.” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Plus, I’m good at noise. I’m like really, really good at noise.”
Nancy shook her head, gritting her teeth, “We can’t. You can’t. We’ll figure this out. We have time, Eddie. We can do this.”
Eddie shook his head, “How loud Wheeler? Two amps? Three? I’ll bring three, just in case.” Eddie turned and walked into his room, flicking the door shut behind him with his foot as Steve threatened to follow him.
“Fucking stop it, Eddie. This is stupid. You’re being stupid.” Steve spat, pushing Eddie’s door open anyway. Robin following closely behind on his heels, her frown just as harsh, just as disapproving. “There’s going to be other ways out of this. There must be. There always is.”
Eddie didn’t reply, pulling cables from pedal boards and dragging amps from under his bed. They’re old, kind of shitty, not ones he uses anymore but couldn’t be bothered selling on. They’d do just fine. He began dragging the amps out of his room, shoving past Steve and Robin as they attempted to keep him inside. Their voices sharp and demanding.
“Eddie, stop, stop.”
“Eddie, don’t think we’re just letting you do this.”
“Eddie! Fucking, stop and listen to me!”
“Or what?” Eddie snapped, as he continued walking towards the flesh hole, throwing his amp upwards, grateful for the mattress they’d pulled across on the other side to gain a slightly higher footing. He watched as the old amp bounced, and landed among the grey, gross, decaying trailer duplicate with a grimace.
Steve huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, “I don’t know.”
Eddie laughed, pushing past Steve and returning to his bedroom, calling out behind him, “Wheeler, tell him. It’s our only shot, right?”
Nancy remained where she sat, rifling through the papers she knew held only one answer. The answer the Eddie was proposing, the answer both she and Dustin had ignored, because they don’t do that. They don’t sacrifice one for the greater good, because there’s always a better way.
But there wasn’t a better way.
There was this, or there was death. For everyone.
“Steve,” Nancy called, as Steve barred Eddie from leaving his room, arms spread wide across the doorway. She could see Eddie’s sad, yet amused smirk from behind her ex-boyfriend. “He’s right. It’s the only way.”
“Nancy!” Dustin cried, “Don’t agree with him!”
“What if we told El, and she got you out,” Mike tried, pulling at the paper in Nancy’s lap and scowling at the small scrawl, “You couldn’t have written in something other than chicken-scratch Dustin? Jesus Christ.”
“I was in a hurry!” Dustin cried, snatching the papers from him, “And that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that Eddie is trying to fucking sacrifice himself.”
“It could work though,” Max muttered, moving in closer, headphones resting by her chin. “If we could tell El, get her to pull you out with her. She’s done it before, with Hopper.”
“Sure,” Eddie agreed, “If magic girl can get me out, I’ll happily go. It’s not like I want to die.”
“Didn’t sound like it five seconds ago,” Steve muttered, finally letting Eddie past with his third amp and guitar. Leads wrapped loosely around his arm. He tossed the leads and final amp into the Upside Down, clinging to one end of an extension cord and plugging it into the wall closest to the gate.
“Fuckin, hope that works,” Eddie said quietly to himself, pushing back up to standing and clapping his hands once.
“Right, well. What are we waiting for? Get on the walkie to Super-Girl and let’s get a move on.”
El agreed, hesitantly. “I can try. If I can’t. He must run. He must run when I say.”
“Absolutely,” Eddie nodded along, “Run when you say. Can do. Very good at running.”
“You must run, Eddie.” El pressed again, “Promise.”
“I promise.” Eddie swore, hand to his heart, not that El could see it through the Walkie-Talkie, but to the people around him, it soothed their worries.
“Friends don’t lie.” El warned.
“And neither do I.” Eddie agreed, “I’ll run, El. I’ll run.”
“Okay.” El agreed, “Okay. We can do it.”
Eddie, with the help of a reluctant Robin and Steve, set up his gear atop the Upside-Down trailer. The amps screeching at the haphazard connections between them, echoing across the filthy, Upside-Down version of his trailer park.
“You’ll run when she says, right?” Robin pressed, watching nervously as Eddie pulled his guitar over his shoulders, adjusting the strap to sit flat against his back. Eddie nodded at her. She didn’t look soothed.
“You don’t run, and I’ll come back here and kill you myself. You hear that Munson?” Steve bumped shoulders with Eddie, frowning. “Those kids would be lost without you.”
“I’ll run, alright? God. So pushy.” Eddie teased, his smile fading as neither Robin nor Steve laughed along. “I’ll run.” Eddie pressed his hand to his heart once more, mouth twisted with sincerity, “I will run.”
“You better.” Steve nodded, giving Robin a hand down from the trailer before turning back to Eddie. Eddie moved forward slightly, hand reaching for Steve’s waist.
“Eddie?” Steve said, confused, chills suddenly coursing down his spine. Eddie reached into Steve’s jacket pocket, Eddie’s jacket pocket really. Still covering the brutal bat wounds from what seemed like days, but was only hours, ago.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to get your hopes up.” Eddie grinned, pulling a small baggie from the pocket, and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Expensive stuff you’ve got there Harrington.”
Steve scowled, “What was that?”
“Just a little Special K, nothing to worry about.” Eddie winked, with a laugh, and fiddled with the tuning knobs of his guitar, unplugged still from the amps as he plucked each string. “Don’t worry. I don’t try my own supply.”
“Sure,” Steve’s scowl maintained. He dropped a Walkie-Talkie at Eddie’s feet. “Don’t forget to run.”
“I won’t.” Eddie said, waving Steve off as the other man began to slide down the side of the trailer and land next to Robin. The kids and Nancy having already pelted off into the distance, getting a head start. Eddie turned to the amps, cranking them as loud as they could go, before sliding the lead into the bottom of his guitar and flinching at the ear-shattering screech that followed.
“Perfect.” He said to himself, before raising his voice, “Better start running, you two!”
Robin and Steve began running as the first, tester, note rang out across the trailer park, the vines on the ground already slithering towards the trailer.
“ALL ABOARD!” Eddie screamed, his giggle echoing loudly. Steve’s final glance caught Eddie leaning down over an amp, his nose dusty white when he rose, waving brightly at Steve as he ran. Swinging the homemade baseball bat at the demo-bats flying their way. Eddie’s way. His guitar forceful, his fingers deftly moving along the fretboard, each note singing loud and clear.
“He’s good.” Robin laughed, swinging an iron pipe at oncoming vines. “Really good.”
Steve grunted in agreement, fighting off monsters of his own, his sides aching, throbbing.
“Steve?” His Walkie crackled to life, Dustin’s voice on the other end. “Do you copy? Over.”
“Yeah, we’re here. Coming now.”
“Is that Eddie?” Dustin asked, voice small and wavering.
“Yeah,” Steve replied, holding the button down longer to let the music play through briefly, “Not too bad.”
Eddie stood atop the trailer, feet planted wide, guitar slung low against him, the world slowly spinning around him as he played. He let the crackling voices of Steve and Dustin; their small praises wash through him. Warm and comforting.
As ‘Crazy Train’ came to an end, Eddie switched to ‘Master of Puppets’, his hands and wrists already aching. The song seemed fitting, long, painful, and fucking metal as all hell. His hand began pumping, chugging out the chords, he couldn’t keep from grinning hearing himself so loud.
He’d been hoping that this day would come, albeit, in front of an audience and not a slowly growing swarm of horrifying, grey, goopy monsters. But it felt right. Somehow.
He sang along, softly at first, but growing to the screaming yell that it required, unable to even hear himself over the thundering sound of his amps around him.
“EDDIE!” El’s voice crackled through the Walkie, desperate, “Eddie you must run now. I can’t save you. I can’t stop it. You must run.”
Eddie swallowed thickly, shaking out his hair and leaning over once more for another line of Ketamine. The powder calming his shaken nerves, his head already succumbing to its soothing, numbing, powers as he continued to play. Muscle memory carrying his throat as his mind grew blank, hazy.
“EDDIE! EDDIE!” El screamed through the Walkie, followed by the voices of Dustin and then Steve, Robin, and Nancy. Each one screeching his name. He wasn’t sure they were, really. If they were all fighting to be heard, of if that was just inside his head, his mind desperate for someone to care enough to scream his name.
This song was always so tricky, Eddie thought to himself, wrist aching, the tendons in his forearm twitching and burning. So much of the same, but it’s all so fast. Too fast. Like the vines, once slowly creeping, now seemingly flying at him.
“Obey your master,” Eddie sung along, slurring, grinning down at the monsters, bats now flying, swirling above his head. Waiting for him to fall.
“Eddie.” Steve’s voice, clear, demanding, through the Walkie. ‘And now when did I get down here?’ He thought, now lying on his back, hand still strumming on the guitar, his fingers still moving smoothly up and down the frets. He could feel their teeth in his feet, their wings settling around his sides, their teeth in his sides.
“Hey Steve,” Eddie answered, plucking on individual strings now. God, it hurt so bad.
“Eddie, you didn’t run.”
“I didn’t.” Eddie agreed, with a pained hum.
“You lied.”
“I lied.”
“You’re a fucking idiot, Munson.”
“Hey now, that’s not very nice.” Eddie choked, a tail gripping his throat and pulling tight, catching in his hair. He groaned.
“Thank you, Eddie.” Steve said, softly. Eddie wasn’t sure if the waver in his voice was Steve’s doing, or the blood loss, as his insides slowly dripped outwards.
“You’re welcome.” He whispered, though as he took another shaky, wet, choking breath, he didn’t think he had ever pressed the button.