Given that I reached 40 parts on Eddie Munson - One Shots, I figured that I'd start a new section, to continue.
40 is a great, round, even number that I'm happy with.
So, I present to you, more one shots of our favourite ever guy, in the Stranger...
I wasn't sure how long I'd been running for, but I reckoned that I'd ran the moment the middle of Hawkins blew apart, the moment the sky turned red and there were were shrieks of things that were supposed to hide in your closet as a kid.
And in the midst of my running, somehow, I'd fallen.
The last thing I'd seen had been the face of my highschool boyfriend, the horror, the anguish as my hand had slipped from his.
And where I'd ended up, had just been a further continuation of what was going on above.
Yeah, above. I'd fallen down. Down into a place I'd never seen anything like.
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Careful not to pause for too long, I shakily told myself to get it together, over and over.
And I just ran again. Ran and ran.
Until something caught onto my ankle, and I tripped, landing hard on the ground.
Scared, frantic and feeling a profound sense of solitude, I scrambled to my feet, choosing not to look back.
But a voice suddenly stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Who's there?"
The voice made me look back, gave me cause to look back.
And what I found, was an agonising scene, before my eyes.
"Please, who's there?!" He begged, as I slowly approached him, shakily and unsteadily.
I recognised him.
I knelt down before him, and he was as scared as I was.
"Eddie?" I said, as his eyes widened slightly.
"Harlow?" He said, in equal surprise, before clinging to me.
"You shouldn't be here." He said, fearful.
"Neither should you. I fell.... I don't know the way back." I said, as mine and his situation suddenly weighed heavily on me, and I broke down into hefty sobs.
He cried with me. We cried together, our hands clasped tightly.
"What's happening?" I asked, distraught.
"The world is ending." He choked out, as I looked all around us.
Looked at the open wounds on his chest, stomach and neck.
"Okay, we need to move you." I said, finding some kind of resolve.
"I mean, I need to move you." I corrected, remembering with anguish that it was just him and me.
"I don't think I can....." He whispered, with a similar anguish.
"Someone's waiting for you..... there's someone waiting for you to go home to them." I urged.
