eddie, let me help. | steddie

Unreal - One

    A/N - nancy, steve, robin, and all the older kids are still in their senior year, for the plot, of course.

TW!! SELF HARM HOMOPHOBIA/SLURS courtesy of Jason

        "EDDIE! - no, no, no, no... Eddie, wake the fuck up! Eddie, listen to to pretty boy or whatever the fuck you called me. Please. EDDIE!" I held his matted curls in my sweaty palms. My teardrops fell onto his stupid club shirt. Stupid. This was stupid. It should have been me. My grip on his hair tightened as I choked on the humid air.

       Henderson stood behind me. I could tell he was crying too. He'd known him longer than I had. Why am I so upset? "Eddie. If you can hear me, please - wake up." I cried.

     fast forward two weeks  - post-eddie death

      These past weeks have been torture. His death hit me the hardest. Dustin let me keep his necklace, but it would have been nicer if I could wear it in memory instead of bawling my eyes out every time I looked at it. God. I'm really falling apart over this Munson freak. He was nothing more than a friend to me anyways. Maybe just an acquaintance. So why was I getting so worked up over this?

        Damn it. The alarm clock read 7:34. I needed to be heading out the door by now. I wipe my eyes and got myself out of bed.

         I sped down the street to pick Robin up, who was impatiently waiting by her mailbox. I skid the car to a stop. "Steve! It's almost eight! We are thirty-whole minutes late! That's thirty-whole minutes of me missing my only class with Vickie." Rob snapped at me as she checked her eyeliner or mascara or whatever it was in the mirror. "Give me a break," I told her in a raspy voice.

          "Rough morning?" She shot me a concerned look. "You know - you can talk to-" I cut her off. "Yeah. I know. Thanks for your... words of pity?"

           "Stevie. You know it's not that pity-bull. I'm serious." I nodded as a thank you. I did appreciate it,  but it didn't help me very much. I stepped on the gas harder.

        

             Where am I.. exactly?

             I looked around. I pushed myself off of the ground, wincing at a sharp pain in my ribs and teeth. Wait. Holy shit. I know where I am. I stood up, fighting the immense soreness in my body, and limped over to my trailer. The weird vine-tentacles weren't there anymore. The surroundings still looked like they got hit by a tornado, though. My head pounded at the thought of trying to remember what happened. I was fighting the bats with Henderson, and we tried to get out - and I... stayed? Yeah, that's what happened. And I fought off the bats.. and I - lost. I lost. And I died next to Henderson.

            But I can't be dead. I'm right here. Though my hands do look pretty fuckin' pale. And if I was dead? They wouldn't just leave my body here. They're my friends, and they'd take me back.

            If the vines are gone, though, and the bats, did we win? Did they kill Vecna - bring me back from the dead? If that's the case... I'd be a zombie. Or like that Byers kid. A zombie, unhuman. Damnit, I need to get out of here.

             I opened the trailer door and decided that before I went back, I should take a look at myself. I looked up at the portal gate. "You stay here. I'll be right back."
1
           I looked rough. The mirror reflected my very matted curls; I was pale, and my teeth? My teeth were... sharp and pointed? My canines looked like vampire's teeth. That explained the toothaches. 

           It certainly took me a minute. But I connected the dots: the bats, my now pale skin, and my teeth. The bats turned me into a monster.