Against all odds || Stranger Things 4 | Hellcheer

Chapter 21

Chrissy glances at Max who looks as confused as her when Eddie drives into a dirt road through the forest, leading to a house by the lake. The van stops abruptly. He jumps out and rushes to the nearest tree to throw up.

Chrissy is barely gathering herself from the horror of the murder they just witnessed. She takes a moment to make sure her legs can carry her before climbing over the gearbox and the driver's seat – Max sitting between her and the door – to join Eddie. The twigs feel like needles on the sole of her feet, she wishes they'd left with their shoes.

Eddie stands with his forehead resting against the tree, his back moving up and down to his heavy breathing. She puts her hand on his shoulder, he jerks, spits on the floor and wipes his mouth before lifting his face toward her. She thought she was done crying, but when their eyes meet, it bursts out of her without warning.

Eddie closes the distance between them to take her in his arms, one hand on her waist, gripping tight, the other, gentle on the back of her head. She clings onto his t-shirt like it's the only thing preventing her from falling apart.

"I don't want to die like that," she sobs against his chest.

He doesn't say anything, just squeezes her. From the shudders of his chest, he might be crying too. They stay like this for a long time. Even when the muffled sound of a conversation through a walkie-talkie fills the silence, none of them move. When Max asks for an address to give to the others, Eddie sniffs and answers with a raspy voice. He still doesn't let go.

Eventually they do move and Chrissy watches speechless Eddie breaking into the house with some tools he snatched in the adjacent boat house. She doesn't know how to feel about it, nor about the fact that they are now sitting in the living room of the man who provides Eddie with his drugs and is currently in jail. She'll think about it another time. When Eddie's neck doesn't bear the red marks of Jason's attempt to strangle him. When the sound of Patrick's bones snapping won't echo in her mind...

She leans against Eddie who flinches. She straightens up right away to give him a guilty, concerned look. "How bad is it?"

"I'll live...I could use a smoke, though."

She knows he doesn't mean a cigarette. There's probably everything he needs hidden somewhere in the house. She takes his hand, gives it a squeeze.

"Maybe you should go lie down until the others come. I'll stay with Max."

She stares at him intently to make sure he gets what she means by that. Dealing with his drug consumption is not a priority, for now, she wants him to feel as good as the situation allows it. She just rather he does it out of sight from a teenager.

He insists that she put on some music and kisses the top of her head before he goes. It's those sweet nothings that make her love him so much. The thought grows goosebump on the back of her neck. Love. Part of her is aware that her feelings are growing too fast, too strong, but he's the one last good thing she has to hold on to. She's willing to take the risk of a future deception and enjoy it while it lasts.

As Eddie disappears in the hallway, she turns to Max with a friendly smile. "Are you okay?"

"I guess," shrugs the girl. "You?"

"Not really," lets out Chrissy in a bitter laugh. Her honesty surprises her.

"Fair enough. It was a stupid question." Max waits a few seconds before adding. "Who was it this time?"

"Patrick McKinney...from the basketball team."

Chrissy is very grateful for Max not to ask more questions. She knows they'll have to go through the events with the rest of the group once they arrive, but she's glad not to have to say it twice.

Although, when Max starts talking again, it's not to start a lighter conversation: she saw the old clock this morning...she's under the influence of Vecna too. 

*

Eddie's hands are shaking with anticipation as he pulls the bag of weed out of the box he knows Rick keeps his stash in. He craves for the numbness – of the pain, of the mind. That feeling that he can't be bothered by anything. He opens the bag and inhales the earthy smell, his body shivering.

His attention gets caught by one of his nails where a chunk of black is missing and his heart sinks. He can't do that to Chrissy...His fist clenches around the bag. Getting high now would make him just as worthless as his shitty parents! If he wants to be the better one for Chris, this is not the right way!

He shoves the bag inside the box and throws it back in the bathroom drawer where he found it. A quick search rewards him with a bottle of painkillers. He swallows two pills as he crosses the hall to go sit on the bed until they kick in. He closes his eyes, but in the dark, he's assaulted by the images of limbs breaking and eyes sinking inside their orbits. Restless, he pulls out a cigarette from his pocket. The smoke filling his lungs doesn't quite bring the solace he was hoping for, but it's better than nothing.

It's the commotion caused by the arrival of Dustin and Co. that pulls him back to the living room. The first pair of eyes he meets are Chrissy's, anxious, caring. He stretches his lips into a reassuring smile as he comes standing by her side, close enough that their arms touch. He takes in the rest of the assembly: Henderson, Sinclair, Wheeler, Buckley and Harrington all look like they've seen a ghost. They brought lunch, though, which is very thoughtful. Now that he's seen the bags, Eddie's stomach is growling.

They all sit in a circle – the girls squeeze on the couch while the boys sit on chairs they brought from the kitchen – and start eating. Chrissy briefly explains how Patrick died, barely touching her cheeseburger. Eddie spreads his leg until he can put his foot over hers and stop her from twisting them nervously. The skin-to-skin contact seems to settle her a little. It prickles her cheeks pink too.

Wheeler asks if they know what time it happened.

"The lights went crazy around a quarter to one," answers Max.

Wheeler and Harrington exchange a glance.

"What?" asks Eddie.

"I think we need to tell them, guys," says Dustin.

"Tell us what?"

Dustin stares at him, then darts his eyes to Chrissy, then Steve and back again.

"This might be... difficult to take..."