(April 3rd, 1986)
Seated on the porch steps, Sadie holds the envelope in trembling hands, unsure of whether or not she even wants to read it now that she has it in her possession. Steve's reluctance seems to be her own, now, whether she truly wants it to be or not. And even with the knowledge that Wayne is still inside—that she is not alone—a spasm of fear ripples through her, igniting goosebumps on her skin as her fingers tighten around the envelope, crinkling the edges as a result.
She reminds herself she is being stupid. That this is just a piece of paper. It cannot hurt her.
And she wanted this. She practically begged Steve to give her the letter Max had written before Vecna's first attempt on her life.
So why is she so uncertain, now that she has what she wants in her hands?
"Coward," She whispers, blinking past the sudden sting of tears in her eyes, her thumb breaking the seal of the envelope while her throat seems to narrow, making it nearly impossible to breathe…
A fire seems to ignite in the center of her chest as she pulls the letter out of the envelope and unfolds it, charring the edges of the permanent hole that made its home around her heart. But even in spite of the warning that seems so inherent in that singular realization, Sadie places the letter on her lap and persists in reading Max's somewhat untidy scrawl, her newly freed left hand reaching up to run her fingers against the guitar pick hanging from a chain around her neck.
Dustin had the necklace to Wayne a few days after they all got out of the Upside Down, but Wayne insisted Eddie would want her to have it, instead. And she clings to it, the edges digging into the skin of her palm, because somehow it is the only thing that can keep her grounded when everything else fails.
Sadie—
I guess if you're reading this, I didn't make it. And I know you're probably blaming yourself. But you shouldn't. You shouldn't, because I really wish I hadn't dragged you into it at all. I mean...maybe we can just blame Vecna. For all I know, he got you too, and we're both toast. But I hope you made it. That you got away. I really, really hope you did.
The asshole doesn't deserve to get everything he wants, right?
No matter what happened, though, I guess I just wanted you to know that what you did—it meant a lot. Not just the Vecna crap, either. I'm not delusional enough to pretend I was fun to be around after Billy. After Starcourt, but you were there. Even when I was being an asshole, you were there, and you didn't leave. So—thanks, I guess. For getting me through it. For being there. I'm not sure what made you want to take it all on, but I'm glad you did.
I'd ask you to thank Jason for me, too, since he was the one always driving us around, but with everything that's happened with Eddie, I get it if you can't. Brothers aren't always easy. Ask Lucas about what Billy did when he thought we were getting too close if you want more proof. I guess Billy and Jason would've had a lot to talk about, with their sisters dating guys they didn't like, right? Probably a good thing for us that they were never friends.
Anyway, what I hope you're getting from this (even if I really suck at saying it) is that I'm glad you were there. For a while, it was almost like having a sister. A real sibling, instead of what things were like with Billy. And I'm serious about not blaming yourself for what happened. None of this is even close to being your fault.
I'm sorry you had to live through it at all. But thanks—really—for trying to get me out alive.
~Max
Sadie bites her lip, but that does next to nothing to stifle the strangled sound that makes its way up her throat, the letter falling unheeded to the ground so that the hand that holds it can cover her mouth. The burning around the hole in her chest is turning into a conflagration, now, and she knows Steve was right. She was foolish to want to read the letter. Foolish to think this would not happen.
Maybe this is what she deserves, though. After all, it isn't as though anyone could argue she did not bring it upon herself.
She had been foolish enough to go up against Vecna, thinking she actually stood a chance at saving Max. And now, Max was in a coma in the hospital, her body irreparably broken. Likely blind.
No matter how many times Max's letter—Steve—Nancy—anyone—told her what happened was not her fault, Sadie very much doubts she will ever be quite capable of believing them.
Exhaling in a rush, Sadie reaches for the letter in order to fold it and place it back inside the envelope, blinking back tears as she reminds herself for the umpteenth time that she wanted the letter. That she is the one who chose to open it.
Just like with everything that happened with Vecna, she brought it on herself. Everything she is feeling now is a direct result of her own actions. Her own choices.
Sadie stands from the porch step, preparing to head back inside, and that is when she feels it. The sudden sensation that she is not alone.
She turns to look at the trees at the edge of the property, expecting to see the same shadowy figure from the day before, but nothing is there. And although a part of her is beginning to wonder if, in the midst of all of her grief and guilt, she is starting to go mad, Sadie forces those thoughts to the side, moving up the steps of the porch and slipping in through the open screen door, while simultaneously trying to ignore the knot developing in her gut, moving to choke the life out of her just like the chasm inside her chest.
If only that weren't easier said than done.
…
When Steve arrives at Wayne Munson's new home with Dustin in tow, he is surprised to find the older man seated out on the porch, cigarette smoke curling up above him while he darts occasional glances back at the door. And the first thing that Steve feels is concern, a part of him almost tempted to ask Dustin to stay in the car until he can get a better feel for what might be going on.
Of course getting the kid to do anything like that is futile as soon as Steve puts the car into park, the passenger side door closing with a snap so that Dustin can crunch across the gravel towards Wayne, instead.
"Waiting two seconds wouldn't kill you, Henderson—"
Dustin doesn't respond, not that Steve really expects him to, his own approach somewhat slower as Wayne stands, dropping what remains of his cigarette onto the gravel and stomping the flame out with his boot, a hand reaching out to squeeze Dustin's shoulder before the younger boy moves past him and heads inside.
"How's he doin'?" Wayne asks, his gaze following Dustin's trek into the house, before turning back to Steve in time to hear his reply.
"Still standing. More than I expected for—"
"For today being a full week."
"Yeah," Steve nods, dragging a hand through his hair, and feeling some manner of relief over the fact that Wayne appears to be in no particular hurry to venture back inside, given the nature of his own inquiry in and of itself, "Sadie?"
"Still standing. Read that letter you gave her earlier this mornin'."
Steve can sense a hint of disappointment in the older man's tone. Disappointment, because he clearly thinks Steve should never have given Sadie the letter at all. And in spite of how he knows it is pretty much well deserved, Steve still can't help but feel relieved. He hadn't been able to reach Sadie with any sort of success, lately, hence giving in and letting her have the letter, and none of the rest of their group had, either.
Maybe, in spite of his gruff exterior, Wayne Munson is the exact person who can get through to her. The person to make her stop blaming herself for things she couldn't control.
Steve doesn't know him very well, but Wayne seems to have a no-nonsense way about him. A way of putting things bluntly while still somehow making it clear he cares. But then, the particular protectiveness he seems to be exhibiting as far as Sadie is concerned at present puts at least some small amount of doubt into Steve's mind, a sigh escaping him before he finally manages a reply.
"Jesus, I had hoped she would wait a day or two."
"Think you an' I both know that's not in her nature," Wayne says, aware of the almost dejected expression Steve wears, a frown marring his features as he realizes there is absolutely nothing he can say to make it any better, "Poor girl's lookin' for reasons to punish herself."
"And I just gave her another item to tack onto the list."
"Don't think you knew she was gonna be so determined to get her hands on it."
"Yeah, but I should've!" Steve exclaims, exasperation momentarily winning out against his own better judgment, though he is more than a little relieved to note that Wayne does nothing in response, save for sending what might amount to an understanding look his way, "Sorry, I just—"
"You're lookin' out for her."
"And doing a shit job of it."
"Sadie knows you're there. Just gotta give her time enough to decide she wants to act on it."
"Act on it? Kinda don't think she's gonna be doing that any time soon."
"Might surprise you," Wayne disagrees, risking a glance back at the house to ensure they are not going to be overheard, the act only piquing Steve's curiosity whether he fully believes Sadie will ever turn to him, or not, "Eddie was—he was a hell of a lot like this, too, at first."
"Eddie?"
"Wouldn't talk when he first moved in. Barely ate. Kept flinching away from me every time I walked in a room like he thought I'd smack him just for breathin."
"What uh—what made him open up?" Steve inquires, a part of him wondering if he has any right to that information, since his relationship with Eddie had been tentative, at best. But Wayne either doesn't know that, or simply does not care, his hands slipping inside his jacket pockets before he replies.
"Pretty little blonde girl brought him outta his shell real quick."
Steve manages a surprised laugh at that, and he thinks he even sees a faint twitch at the corner of Wayne's mouth that might amount to a smile. As soon as it appears though, it is gone, a lined frown appearing in its place, and Steve kicks himself for somehow allowing the conversation to turn to Eddie when Wayne had to have been feeling the pain of his absence intensified today, as well.
"Are—are you holding up okay?"
"Better than if I didn't have someone to look after."
"Someone who kicked you out of your own house, apparently."
"Nah. She's just—"
"Just what?"
"Got it in her head the entire house needed a deep clean," Wayne sighs, something seeming to linger, unsaid, such that Steve raises a brow in response, "Didn't think I made that much dirt, myself, but figured it'd maybe do her good to keep busy."
"And we sent Dustin into the warzone solo."
"Kid's pretty tough. Reckon he can handle himself."
Steve can't help but manage another laugh, knowing that Wayne is probably right, all things considered. And not for the first time, he catches himself wondering why he ever spent a second doubting the older man's willingness to take Sadie in after her own family beat it out of town without her.
Wayne seems to know Sadie. To know when she needs space. When she needs something to occupy her mind, and when she wants someone to be by her side. And even though Steve can't help but feel a bit let down that such a thing is apparently not something he can provide, he would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate that Wayne had been able to take over in his stead.
"Think we should go check on them?" He asks, almost immediately aware of Wayne's shake of the head, that same almost-smile curving at the older man's lips for a moment before he speaks again.
"Think we can give 'em a bit more time to themselves. But maybe you can help me get a few of the heavier things out of the truck and into the shed while we wait."
…
"Where did this come from, exactly?"
"Middle cupboard, above the stove."
Nodding, Dustin totes the battered old popcorn maker and a few plastic bowls to the aforementioned cupboard, clambering up onto a nearby chair to put them away. Sadie is already preoccupied with some other task, even with having to work one-handed due to the cast still present on her right arm. And although he can't fathom any way in which the kitchen would have become messy enough to warrant a cleaning in just under a week of being occupied, Dustin keeps his mouth shut, choosing instead to help Sadie with—whatever it is she is attempting to do—as best he can.
"Lucas, Mike and El were thinking of having a movie night tonight. At the Byers' house."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. They wanted me to ask if you wanted to come, too," Dustin offers, jumping back down from the chair, and watching Sadie carefully, her expression unreadable, and giving him every reason to hurry to go on before she can shut him down, "Will, Nance and Jonathan will be there, and I think Steve was gonna ask Robin—"
"I probably—shouldn't."
"Will said you'd say that. And he also said that if you did, I should mention there's going to be pizza. And chips. And cake."
"So Will thinks he can bribe me with food?" Sadie questions, one corner of her mouth twitching as she turns to face Dustin, only to find that he is eyeing her shiftily, and wavering from one foot to the other in response, "What?"
"What do you mean, what?"
"What did you do?"
"Do? I didn't—I didn't do anything," Dustin begins, the obvious attempt at innocence in his tone alerting Sadie almost immediately, though she has to give him credit for how he clings to the act, regardless, "Why would you think I would do anything?"
"Because Will Byers is trying to entice me to come to a movie night when—"
"When?"
"Steve," Sadie mutters, taking all the confirmation she needs from Dustin's ensuing wince, her body sinking into a chair beside the kitchen table so she can bury her face beneath her good hand, "He told you he thinks I'm not eating."
"Actually, he kind of told us you aren't eating. Period. No think about it," Dustin corrects, waiting until Sadie peeks out from between her fingers, her shoulders sagging in an obviously resigned sigh, "So we thought—"
"You would feed me yourselves?"
"Well we aren't going to tie you down and force you, if that's what you're thinking."
Unable to resist the snort that breaks free in response to the mental image Dustin's comment provokes, Sadie drops the hand that had been covering her face back down to her lap, her gaze tracking his movements as he moves to sit at the chair opposite her not long after. The kitchen is nearly all settled, now that the cupboards and countertops have all been cleaned. And so she decides to take a small break before moving on to the den, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans for a moment before she summons the wherewithal to speak once again.
"I'll think about it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. But if Wayne isn't working tonight, I really don't think he should be alone—"
"Think I can handle one night by myself if it means you'll be with some friends."
Sadie's gaze almost immediately flicks up to where Wayne and Steve are coming through the door into the kitchen, a sigh escaping before she can stop it. She didn't exactly intend to use him as an excuse to avoid her friends, but the words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
And it's true. She doesn't want him to be alone. Not today, of all days.
Still, she isn't entirely prepared to face Wayne's apparent determination to have her accept Dustin's offer, her gaze flicking between him, and Steve for a moment, before she attempts to dedicate a more serious effort to arriving at a decision.
"You're—you're sure?"
"Course I am. Besides, you stay here too much longer, you're likely to choke to death from the fumes."
"So I should leave you to asphyxiate on your own, then," Sadie quips, a faint smile toying at the edges of her mouth as she looks to Dustin, noting his own amused grin and feeling just the faintest flickers of relief as a result.
"Or maybe we could all avoid using five dollar words, yeah?" Steve cuts in, pleased to see the shared look between Dustin and Sadie, even if their raised brows and laughter comes at his own expense.
"C'mon, Steve, confusing you is so much fun. And easy, too."
"Laugh it up, Henderson. Maybe I'll just leave you here and take Sadie to Will's by myself."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, pal. Try me."
Dustin makes a face at Steve, and that seems to persuade Steve to do the same in retaliation, the end result causing Sadie to cover her mouth to hide her own amusement while Wayne simply shakes his head. It would be a lie to pretend she is not relieved to see Dustin laughing. That it only increases the guilt eating away at her, seeing him so downtrodden in the wake of everything they have endured.
And even if her own amusement is already fading, somewhat, she realizes it might not be that bad to take him up on his offer.
If it will ease some of Dustin's own suffering—if it will make him feel just the tiniest bit better—how bad could it be to simply let him have the win?
…
"Hey! You—you came!"
"Sure, act a little more surprised, Robin. Scare her off."
"Steve, she's fine," Sadie assures, ignoring his grumbled comment in response to Robin's obvious enthusiasm, even though she can feel her cheeks warming as several faces turn away from the television screen to look her way, instead, "And yeah. I—I came."
"Thank God. Now I'll have someone on my side to keep Steve from forcing us through another run of Back To The Future."
"Hey. That's a good movie. Even when you're not high off your ass thanks to Russian bad guys."
"I think it's really only good the first thousand times you watch it," Robin retorts, looping her arm through Sadie's uninjured one, and dragging the blonde off toward the kitchen while Steve remains behind, stewing amidst the laughter of Lucas, Dustin and Mike where they are sitting on the couch, "Come on. Nance is in the kitchen."
"El and Will?"
"With Jonathan, out gathering supplies."
Sadie nods, allowing Robin to tug her into the kitchen, and managing a faint wave as soon as Nancy looks up from the tray of chips and dip she is arranging on the countertop against the far wall. Her stomach twists at the thought of being surrounded by so many people, but Sadie is still committed to at least attempt to endure it.
She reminds herself that her friends are only trying to help. That they care. Truthfully, now that her parents are gone, without them, she would be utterly alone.
Sadie repeats all of these things a few times in her head as a sort of silent mantra, the distraction such a thing provides causing her to remain unaware of Nancy's approach until she feels a pair of arms wind around her to draw her into a hug.
"I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea."
"Tired of Back To The Future, too?"
"What?"
"I may or may not have told Sadie about the need to steer Dingus toward a different choice in movie," Robin admits, giving Sadie a conspiratorial wink before venturing over to snag a chip from the plate Nancy is preparing, instead, "We kind of need all the help we can get."
"What are the other choices?" Sadie asks, opting for trying to at least seem interested, on the surface, because she knows at least some of the effort put into the evening might just be for her. And even if it has nothing to do with her, she wants to put up a good front for Dustin, because she knows he's been like a watered down version of himself for the last week, every bit as much as she has, herself.
If she were honest with herself, a part of her wants this. A single night to exist without reality weighing in and dragging her down. Without the words in Max's letter repeating over and over in her mind. Without having to directly face the reality of how she will never see Eddie again.
Nancy and Robin seem to sense this, because they are both hurrying to respond as quickly as they can, Robin making a dive for the pile of tapes on the table while Nancy gives a verbal itemized list.
"The Outsiders, Sixteen Candles, and the complete Star Wars trilogy."
"I think Nancy is going to side with her boy, Tom Cruise," Robin teases, the remark prompting the slightest twitch of Sadie's lips, even in spite of Nancy's answering eye-roll, "But does Sadie have a preference?"
"Oh. I—no. Not really."
"Oh come on, pick one! Please? For me?"
"Robin, if she doesn't want to pick a movie, she doesn't have to," Nancy chides, carrying the tray of chips and dip toward the doorway leading back into the den, just as a commotion there signifies Jonathan and the others have likely returned with the rest of the food, "You and I can take care of Steve just fine on our own."
"Yeah, but then it's not nearly as much fun."
"Star Wars," Sadie blurts, seizing on the idea as something that will hopefully make Dustin smile, if nothing else, "That's—that's my pick."
"Alright then. Let's go put it to a vote."
Before Nancy or Sadie can say anything to stop her, Robin slips past them to head to the den, already offering the proposed movie choices up for debate before she is fully situated in the room. And as Dustin practically shouts his vote for Star Wars before anyone else can get a word in edgewise, Sadie manages a small smile, sharing the look with Nancy before following after her to join everyone else.
Lucas, Will and Mike seem to back up their friend's choice of movie, even with Steve's grumbling, and Sadie allows herself the luxury of perching on an armchair not far from the couch while the opening credits roll across the screen.
She still isn't entirely sure this is the best idea. She isn't exactly sure it's right, when Wayne is still sitting at home, alone. But for now, she is committed, to say the least…
And she can take some manner of comfort in the fact that perhaps the movie can be distracting enough to keep the ever present ache at the center of her chest at bay.
…
When the movie ends, Dustin almost immediately sets himself to the task of convincing them to move on to the second in the trilogy, and seems to win an easy victory, but for Nancy's concession that they all take a moment to stretch their legs and help clean the debris littering the den, first. Eager to seize on the chance for another distraction, Sadie ends up in the kitchen, wrestling the last of the paper plates into a very full trash can.
That is where Steve finds her, depositing his own armload of used cups on the counter, and then turning to lean against it with his arms folded across his chest.
"Doing okay?"
"Fine," Sadie nods, frowning as her attempt to tie the bag one handed goes awry, though Steve is quick enough to step in, gently elbowing her to the side to finish the task himself, "Thanks."
"Not a problem," Steve replies, hefting the bag out of the trash can with a soft grunt, and carrying it over to the door to set it on the back porch, "So uh—how much do you hate me for dragging you into this?"
"Steve, I don't hate you."
"Not even a little?"
"Not even a little," Sadie assures, frowning at the lingering skepticism in Steve's expression, and trying not to fixate on the instinctive feeling that he is yet another person treating her like fragile glass, "I just wish you wouldn't worry so much."
"Right, so, according to that, I should just—what? Not care at all?"
"No. Just—I don't know."
"Care less?" Steve suggests, his distaste for the idea apparent in his tone, "Nope. Not gonna happen."
Sadie can't help but manage a faint smile in response to the admittedly predictable reply, but she can't quite figure out how best to express her gratitude for Steve's concern. Because that is exactly what it is. A nearly overwhelming sense of gratitude, even if she is doing a remarkable job of acting like it is the opposite, thus far.
A part of her wonders if Steve already knows, even if she can't seem to put it into words. But she doesn't get much of a chance to investigate that particular thought any further, the sound of clattering diverting both hers and Steve's attention to the hallway in time to see Lucas poking his head into the kitchen with widened eyes.
"You guys are gonna want to come see this."
Steve and Sadie share a look before following after him to join the rest of their group still gathered around the television. Dustin apparently had yet to start the next tape, the screen instead showing a local reporter standing beside an alleyway in between two stores in town. Nancy is already turning the volume up, and Sadie places a hand at the back of the couch behind where El is sitting, while Steve stands at her side.
The room is almost eerily silent, where before it had been abuzz with talk and laughter, and the reporter's words almost seem to echo in the space, leaving nothing but a chilling sense of dread in their wake.
"Two bodies were found early this morning, in an alleyway on the east end of town," The reporter begins, the camera zooming in over her shoulder to show a few police officers standing over what is clearly meant to be the bodies, already enclosed in dark black bags, "Police have yet to find any witnesses, but cause of death appears to be exsanguination."
"Residents are urged to maintain adherence to the curfew set in place by local law enforcement, and to avoid traveling alone whenever possible. We don't yet know if this is only the first of many attacks, but what we can tell you is that whatever did this is far from human."
The camera pans back out to cover the entire alleyway and the reporter herself, her expression a predictable mixture of rabid curiosity and solemn grief. It fills Sadie with something not all that far from disgust, because she remembers something similar from the man that had taken up the television screen in her hospital room, still so determined to talk as though Eddie's death was good news.
She is half-tempted to head back to the kitchen, but just as she moves to do so, Steve's hand reaches for her arm, halting her in her tracks. Sadie lifts a brow, silently questioning why he is even attempting to stop her at all, but before Steve has any chance to reply, her entire body goes rigid, fire zinging its way through her veins while her knees make a jarring impact with the floorboards…
Sadie is dimly aware of Steve sinking down to her side, Robin not far behind. She can even feel a sort of vague disturbance around where Will is sitting as well. But beyond that, all she can seem to focus on is the pain ripping through her. Spreading from the center of her chest, outward until it reaches her fingers and toes.
She doubles over, her left arm curling around her torso as though she is trying to keep herself from breaking apart, but as much as she prays for the blissful oblivion a loss of consciousness will provide, that relief never seems to come.
Instead, the pain only continues to grow. Her vision whites out.
Sadie's left hand falls to the floor, her fingernails digging into the wood, leaving scorch marks where indentations might have been as a flaring red light emanates from her palms. The pressure beneath her skin seems to build until she fears it will simply tear her apart. But then, just as quickly as it comes, it seems to stop. Her skin prickles beneath the weight of a cold sweat.
She drags in a gasping breath for air and immediately looks to Will, whose position is very similar to her own, his features clearly indicative of the same paralyzing pain that she can still feel echoing in her veins. And it is not long before the noise of her surroundings floods her senses, murmured curses and inquiries about well-being fading in light of Dustin's startled exclamation.
"What. The hell. Was that?"
…
Hello there, everyone! And welcome (finally!) to a new chapter in Eddie and Sadie's sequel! I'm sorry there was a bit of a delay here, between this chapter and the last! For a part of the week, I hit a mini road bump as far as where I wanted to go next. I didn't want to minimize the threat of the Upside Down looming on the edges, but I also didn't want to rush straight into a ton of battle sequences until some other things are lined up, first. So hopefully that all makes sense and isn't too boring?
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! And special thanks go out to last chapter's reviewers: SailorErinViz95, StrangestThing21, and mistyagami, for leaving such lovely feedback the last time around! I am so, so happy you're enjoying the story so far and I hope you continue to like where it goes from here!
Before I close (sorry, rambly A/N, I know!), I've also posted what will eventually become a series of one-shots that will center around Eddie and Sadie's relationship before TCATF, as well as a few 'deleted scenes' that I have in mind that didn't make it into that story, itself. If you're interested, feel free to give it a shot?
There's also a playlist on Spotify for this story, if anyone is intrigued. ( : / / open . spotify playlist / 4DTMmA2LM8iblIWBMTResJ_)
That's about all I have for now! Until next time?
MOMM
