This is hopefully/most likely going to be part of a larger story. I have two S4 'compliant' stories in a sense. This one is more of a canon-compliant one of S4 and keeps what happened in S3. But I am still going to be diverging since Jensen is added into this and Eddie deserved so much better. The other story I have planned is a complete fix it of what happened at the end of S4 going into S4.
I hope you guys enjoy.
SUMMARY: Eddie only knew of one place where he could find refuge after what he just witnessed in his trailer.
Eddie doesn't know whether he wants to throw up or shit his pants. It surprised him he hadn't done either of them. His knuckles are white as he grips his steering wheel. The brunette Metalhead isn't sure what he just witnessed. He had slapped himself multiple times as his mind tried to wrap around the scene he witnessed in his trailer.
It was like a scene out of The Evil Dead or The Exorcist the way Chrissy's body snapped and contorted. He can still hear each snap of her bones. The lights flickered like strobe lights as she levitated. Her jaw snapped open like a marionette. Some unseen force controlled her strings. Her body dropped like a rag doll, all broken and lifeless. It's something he knows will haunt him for the rest of his life.
Eddie doesn't know how he had been able to gather enough sense or strength to get in his van and scurry away. Yet, running is what he does best. So it did not surprise him he had been able to leave his trailer with no second thought.
Besides, this town hates him. He knows the optics of the situation. The good, popular cheerleader was at the Devil's Spawn place, buying drugs of all things, and ends up dead. Not even dead, mutilated as if it was some type of weird seance. He would not just get life in prison but would be sentenced to death row.
His only regret was leaving the scene for his uncle to stumble upon.
Eddie curses himself for offering to sell ketamine to the Queen of Hawkins. She seemed so lost and distressed and he wanted to help. She was scared of something when they were in the woods. As much as he played it off, something was eating at the popular cheerleader. His instinct was that it had something to do with her bible-thumping boyfriend. It wasn't his business, as it had gained him a new client. But he sometimes had a bleeding heart.
Now, his offer of some sort of peace was seriously backfiring on his ass. He should have sold her the weed and been done with it.
His concern has only left him to be a potential suspect in a murder investigation. How in the hell is he supposed to get out of this situation! No one was going to believe she seemed to have been possessed, as her eyes rolled to the back of her head out of nowhere. How in the hell do you explain someone levitating without bungees or some shit? The last time he checked, he wasn't David Copperfield!
What's worse is there was no fucking weed in his van to even calm his fried nerves.
Eddie thinks he is lucky no one seems to be on the road tonight. No one is there to witness his manic driving.
He chews on the ends of his hair as he tries to figure out his next move. If he even has one. Despite the intricate campaigns he makes, he doesn't have the same plans for his life. The only one he had was to fucking graduate and make his uncle proud. Yet, tonight that dream seemed to have died along with Chrissy.
He takes a shaky breath as he makes the familiar route to the one house - person - that may be able to help him for at least the night. They were far enough removed that no one would think to find him there, especially with her dad in prison. Hell, he may even be lucky that she is spending her spring break somewhere else and he won't have to explain anything. He won't have to make her an accomplice to his bullshit. Better yet, a door wouldn't be slammed in his face. He seemed to always push her buttons lately when they crossed paths.
He doesn't bother with turning on his radio. He feels sick whenever he passes a streetlight. With the flickering and humming, he thinks he may finally throw up. The events - adrenaline- finally running out.
The road becomes darker as he gets deeper into the residential area that surrounds Lover's Lake. The houses were grander than the duplexes and cul-de-sacs, which was a favored design. These were high-end houses built after WWII with multiple rooms, a furnished basement, and a two-car garage. The homeowners possessed acres of land, a boathouse, and privacy from the woods.
His heart pounds against his chest. He knows he needs something quick to quell his shot nerves. He thinks he would do coke or ketamine himself to fall into a black hole.
He passes the sign for Holland Road and he is minutes away from his destination. Luckily, the house is at the end of the street. It is a bit of a drive down the extensive driveway before he reaches the property. He can see the paused construction of the gated fence Rick was setting up. However, nausea builds in his stomach as he spots a very familiar two-tone black and purple '65 Ford Mustang.
Just his fucking luck!
Maybe she would take mercy on him and at least allow him to sleep in the boathouse.
Eddie turns off his van and counts to 10 as he steadies his breathing. He needs to get a grip and keep his head on straight. He doesn't know how he managed to get out of his truck without falling. The panicked guitarist drops his keys about five times, trying to stuff them into his pocket. His feet slip on the gravel as he rushes to the door. Shaky, frantic fingers smash the doorbell. The chimes echo as he hears no response. The pressing of the bell leads to his hand slamming against the closed door.
So much for being calm and collected. Worse, he knows she is going to be pissed he is showing up late at night. He rings the doorbell again and wonders what in the hell is taking so long to answer the goddamn door.
His fists go to slam again when the door swings open and he almost tumbles into the small body holding a baseball bat.
The screen door smacks against the frame. Eddie yelps as he braces for the impact of the wooden bat.
"Eddie? What the hell are you doing!" She yells at him as she lowers the bar.
His large doe eyes look at her as his mind catches up to him that he isn't woozy from a bat. He is in a safe space. His knees crack as he springs up and locks the screen door. He slams the front door and locks it.
"I need a place to crash." He tells her. He scans the foyer - the house. She seems to be alone. The upstairs lights are on. He squints to ensure they aren't flickering.
He prays this isn't the time Jensen Lipton decides to be stubborn.
She still has the bat clutched tightly in her arms. She squints at him. "That doesn't explain why you were banging the door like a lunatic?"
Eddie swipes a hand down his face. He eyes her curvy form, exposed in what he assumed was a missing Dio shirt, but now he knows where it's at. Her hair is wrapped in a silk scarf. Her brows furrowed in annoyance. He spots a new collection of colorful tattoos giving her a whole sleeve on her left arm.
He wants to bury himself in her. Hold her to find a balm in this storm that is going to chase him. He has a feeling these are going to be his last moments of a semblance of peace. However, he needs something to calm his beating heart that threatens to jump out of his chest.
"Your dad still have some weed stashed here?"
Her eyebrows skyrocket to her hairline. "Are you being fucking serious right now?"
Eddie moves away from the door. He glides to the living room that is cloaked in darkness aside from the moonlight. He closes the blinds and makes sure the windows are locked.
"Eddie!"
"Jensen, I swear I need something," he stresses. He presses a hand to his forehead. "And you're not even going to fucking believe me." He collapses on the couch. The springs scream from his weight.
"How about you talk first and then weed," she counters as she folds her arms across her chest.
He presses his palms to his eyes. He feels a migraine coming.
"I…fuck Jensen…it was like something out of a horror movie," he croaks. "They are going to think I killed her, Jensen. But I didn't fucking do it I swear." The tears are hot against his cheeks and his eyes burn. "Fuck, Jen…I-" The words get stuck in his throat as he doesn't even know where to begin. He wipes his eyes, which only makes the stinging worse.
The floor creaks and Jensen moves to sit on the coffee table directly in front of him. Her face is a blank canvas giving nothing away.
She leans forward and places her hand on his knees. The warmth of her seeps through and he shivers. "Start at the beginning, Eddie." She breathes. Any trace of anger and irritation is gone.
He huffs as he stares at the ceiling. His mind flashes to Chrissy's body, smacking hard enough to leave a crack. He closes his eyes and squeezes the couch to steady himself.
He tells Jensen everything. From how Chrissy had approached him for a deal, even the irrelevant shit from his antics at lunch to his successful end to his Cult of Vecna campaign, his last moment of happiness fleeting away, and to meeting Chrissy after the campaign and driving to his place. He explains how Chrissy's eyes went milky, the way an unseen force brutalized her body and he couldn't do anything but witness it.
His tears stain his cheeks and leave a trail to the collar of his shirt. Jensen is quiet as she stares at him. He's scared she doesn't believe him. And the lack of response has him terrified. He has nowhere else to go. Nowhere else does he feel safe outside of the trailer he shares with his uncle.
Eddie doesn't know how he is going to get out of this. He doesn't think he can. Maybe he would be spared the lethal injection if he can make a case for insanity.
His stomach drops or more accurately betrays itself. He takes Jensen by surprise as he springs up from the couch and rushes to the bathroom.
He vomits his meager lunch of pretzels. Acid burns his throat as it expels any substance it had. Snot dribbles down his nose. His body breaks into a cold sweat as the bile leaves his system. He is left with nothing but dry heaves that shake him to his core.
He's utterly fucked.
"We have to hide your van."
"Huh," Eddie replies, and he realizes Jensen is behind him, holding his frizzy hair away from his face. His grip is tight on the cool porcelain as Jensen pulls him back a bit as she flushes the toilet.
"If you're going to be staying here, we need to stash your van." She repeats.
Eddie isn't embarrassed when the sobs wreck his body. The grip on his hair loosens and Jensen wraps herself around him.
His tears and snot staining her neck.
Maybe there will be a way out of this without a noose around his neck.
For now, he believes he is safe. There is some light out of this dark tunnel.