Blasting through the headphones that Max lent him for the night until he could buy his own, the drumming of Anthrax's Madhouse echoes throughout his body as though it were his own heartbeat. With his hands crossed under his head, Eddie stares at the flaking ceiling of the school gym, turned into a shelter after the earthquake. His spine sinks into the uncomfortable cot, aching for a real mattress.

It's been weeks since he's had a proper rest. Lying awake until late in the night, his thoughts keep spiralling, filling his head with their negativity and the constant guilt of not having been able to save Chrissy. Despite being aware of his helplessness at the time, he curses himself for not having known earlier. Not having found a way to pull her out of Vecna's grip, not having known to play music to buy her time.

He wonders what it would've been like if she'd survived. Would her parents have fled Hawkins, or would they have stayed with the others, either in the comfort of their own home or at the shelter? Would she have spent some time with him after their meeting in the forest? Would she have come to see Corroded Coffin one day?

Probably not. She most likely would've been too busy staying with Jason, had he survived too. He can't understand how this guy ever scored someone like Chrissy. She wore her heart on her sleeve, only to be hurt by others, while he spent his time preaching against so-called freaks on the basis of his own ignorance, refusing to understand or learn. All of that while acting like the hero of Hawkins, the righter of wrongs.

He finds himself shedding a tear at the thought of her smile. She didn't deserve it. Not one bit. How Vecna fed on her, on her fears, he can't understand. She needed help, not to die.

He curls his fist and dries his eye before anyone sees him. But nobody does. He's the only one still awake, despite the night hardly beginning. Everyone is exhausted. Mentally and physically. The children dozed off a long time ago, while the parents snore besides them, their fingers intertwined or reaching out for something to hold onto, for some comfort. Not far from the table where drinks are served, lit up by the lamppost outside, he spots a red mane spread out on a pillow.

Poor Max.

Ever since they escaped the Upside Down and found Max inert in Lucas' arms, his thoughts often turn to the younger girl. The fright of not having been able to save her was too great for him to be neutral towards her. When Steve explained what happened with Billy, his view changed completely. How could one person so young bear so much weight upon her shoulders and not falter? If anything, Max was the only one not to give in to panic when things took a turn for the worst.

As the only ones in the group to live in the shelter, they became closer, sitting down in a corner when no help was needed, chatting away to kill time and forget their situation. Her sarcasm and her natural tough demeanor were aspects of her personality that he admires, even when he ends up the target of her barbs. In the midst of craziness, he's just happy to have found new friends who shared his trauma. His other friends at Hawkins High wouldn't understand any of it. In fact, they've been avoiding him ever since he resurfaced, once the accusations against him dropped.

When the volunteers leave the shelter and when Max falls asleep, he is alone. At the mercy of the shadows taking over him.

He sighs and presses the stop button on the walkman. He pops it open to take the tape out, slipping it back into its case. He sits up on the cot, stretching his back and glancing around, unnoticed by the others. With his bare foot, he searches for his t-shirt on the dusty floor, picking it up between his toes. Once he puts it on, he throws off his blanket and stands up, yawning as he readjusts his boxers. He slips his legs into his jeans and turns towards the hall.

He tiptoes through the rows of bed until he reaches Max's, taking the walkman and the headset with him. He places them on her pile of clothes underneath the cot, smiling as he sees her relaxed traits. For the first time in weeks, she seems peaceful, finding some well-earned solace in her sleep.

Before he leaves, he grabs the corners of her blanket and pulls it over her, tucking her in well enough for her to not feel the cold air of the gymnasium. He kisses her forehead like the big brother he sometimes wished he would have been, then walks out.

Breathing in the cold late April air, he pulls a pack of cigarette from his pocket and brings one to his lips. Leaning against the doorframe, he lights it up and inhales the smoke, hoping for some relief that never comes. He stares at the few cars parked in front of him, eerily still. When he coughs, the sound echoes, reinforcing the loneliness within him. He feels tiny in a vast world he has no control over, still terrified at the idea of a darker version of this same world.

"Fuck."

He rubs the cigarette against the wall and slips it back into the pack, having hardly smoked it. He can't stand being on his own anymore. Not even for a smoke. Everything tastes bitter now.

He heads back inside, dragging his feet to the wall where he usually sits with Max. Before he lets himself slide to the ground to mope, his eyes catch sight of the telephone screwed to the wall. He ponders for a moment. Would there be anyone to call at this time of night? No. It's midnight, nobody would answer.

Still, he shuffles up to it and pushes a coin inside, picking up the receiver and dialing the only number he knows by heart. The only person he feels like talking to.

Pressing his forehead against the cold concrete wall, he expects it to ring endlessly until the communication would be cut. Much to his surprise, not a single beep sounds before he hears the other phone being picked up.

"Steve?" he whispers loud enough for him to hear.

"Eddie?"

"Sorry that I called you, man, I'm..."

"Feeling like shit?"

Eddie snorts, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

"You can say that, yeah."

"I'll be right there."

He hangs up as fast as he answered. Eddie stares at the handset, chuckling as warmth begins to spread from his chest. He doesn't know why he called Steve in particular. If anything, it's Robin he's closest to. But the more time he spends with him, the more he realises how different Steve is from the idea he had of him. He's not the vain popular guy that Jason was. Maybe he once has been, but he allowed himself to grow past it, not ashamed of admitting his wrongs, even if he first goes through a short phase of denial, hurt in his pride. He's a good listener and surprisingly, someone who can give good advice without overlooking your personality.

When Steve pulls over to the school gym, he finds Eddie already standing there, shivering in the cold. Once he stops the car, he leans over the passenger seat to open the door and let him in. As soon as Eddie flops onto the seat, heaving a sigh of relief, he presses his skull against the headrest, without looking at him.

"I'm sorry that I called you so late. Didn't know who else to call."

"I wasn't sleeping either and I was alone. Don't worry about that."

Following his visit at the Wheelers', Steve returned home, only to find his massive house empty. Such an event as the earthquake and the near-destruction of Hawkins wasn't enough for his parents to stay with their son, left to his own devices, as usual. They did hurry back to town when they heard the news and after Steve confirming that he experienced it first hand. But none of them bothered going to the shelter at least once, or checking up on their neighbors, settling on checking the house for any damage instead.

Fed up with their behavior, Steve stayed away from his house as much as possible, spending his time gathering donations and controlling them once at the shelter. After merely a week, his father left again, soon followed by his mother, who couldn't trust her husband traveling on his own.

All they've left was a stack of money on the counter one morning, smaller than the last one.

Avoiding the house like the plague, finding himself there alone is pure torture. Each whisper echoes between the walls, repeating itself until driving him crazy. When there, he doesn't feel like doing anything. No watching TV, no reading magazines, no shooting hoops, no running — nothing.

So when he came back from Nancy's, he was left at the mercy of his somber memories of the Upside Down and the same spiral that Eddie was a victim of.

Finally, Eddie turns his head and meets Steve's gaze, underlined by deep black circles.

"You look awful, King Steve."

"Wish I could get some rest once in a while."

"Felt like shit too?"

"Yeah. Thinking about everything that happened, all the people who died because we couldn't act on time. The usual."

They turn silent, staring at the door of the gymnasium, mentally picturing all the people sleeping inside.

"And I went to see Nance."

Eddie whips his head around with round eyes.

"Gave a shot?"

"No," Steve scoffs, drumming on the steering wheel. "I wanted to check on her, make sure she was okay."

"And? Was she?"

"No."

Steve turns the ignition under Eddie's quizzical look.

"I'm dying for a slushie," he says, changing the subject. "Let's go to 7-Eleven?"

"Sounds like heaven to me."

As he drives out of Hawkins, Steve's voice cuts through the silence, drawing Eddie's attention back to him.

"Jonathan really fucked up. She was a mess. She waited for him to get his letter to open her own. The entire time!"

"She doesn't even know if she got in?"

"Well, she does now. She wanted to open it with me."

Eddie chuckles, throwing his head back.

"C'mon, you can't tell me that you're not seeing the elephant in the room!"

"She doesn't love me, Ed, period. Anyway, I told her to value college above her relationship with Jonathan. I think she should go to Boston."

"That's kind of you, but shit as well," his passenger comments. "You realise that if she goes, neither you nor Jonathan will have her, right?"

"I don't care about that. I messed up my chance when I had it. She's her own person."

"Bullshit."

"Oh man, I hate this word."

The BMW darts onto the forest road, deserted since the split. The streetlights dance upon the body of the car and onto their faces, their only beacons in the night. While the loneliness is still kicking in, they both find comfort in each other's presence. For the rest of the short ride, they talk about Nancy and Jonathan, Steve telling Eddie all about his visit to the Wheelers' house.

Once at the 7-Eleven, they order slushies, ignoring the insisting glares of the cashier towards Eddie. As soon as they pay, they walk back out and sit inside the car, sighing as they bring the straws to their lips.

"What about you?" Steve asks between two sips.

"What about me?"

"Why are you feeling down?"

Eddie sighs and rests his elbow against the window, supporting his head.

"Can't stop thinking about Chrissy."

"Were you in love with her?"

"No. Hardly knew her. But I know she was a good person. And the fact that I couldn't do anything to protect her drives me wild."

"You couldn't have known back then."

"I know. But I can't stop seeing her bones cracking and..."

He stops himself before the tears flood his eyes. The lump in his throat grows too large for him to speak and Steve doesn't need words to understand what's going on.

"I feel the same too, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"About not being able to save everyone. I feel like I'm responsible for all of that. I was responsible for Max and I failed her."

"Steve, you didn't."

Steve sniffs, dissimulating his face behind his hand, blinking repeatedly as he represses the tears.

"Hey, it's okay, man."

"Is it though? Max almost became blind. Because of me. Because I didn't look after her when she needed it. Dustin could've died because of me."

"But I was with him."

"And you could've died too! If I'd been more careful, maybe we would've found you earlier. Maybe we could've saved Max on time too, and she wouldn't have lost her sight!"

Eddie sees the tears flowing down Steve's face and pulls him into a warm yet awkward embrace. Finding himself submerged by the emotion he felt back in his cot, he sinks into the hug, letting it all out. For the first time since the group found him after he ran away after Chrissy's death, he allows himself to cry. He's surprised that it didn't happen earlier, with the overwhelming succession of events. Not even in the RV as they drove to stock up on weapons.

Not even when he cut off his own escape route from the Upside Down to divert the bats' attention away from Dustin, facing them alone, shaking at the knees.

The first weeks afterwards were easier on him. When the horrifying deaths of random teenagers and young adults began to happen in plain view, the people of Hawkins began to understand that there was more to those murders than just a high schooler going around breaking their bones. While the hatred and fear of Hellfire Club increased at first, it was the intervention of the army that helped to disculpate him. Chrissy's body was exhumed for a new autopsy carried out by a former researcher of Hawkins Lab, who identified the cause of death in no time.

Blaming the wave of deaths on a virus spread through chemicals by the Russians, Eddie was able to return to his community. First spending two nights at the military hospital for infected wounds from the bat attack, he reunited with his uncle, who'd kept putting up missing posters for him, never giving up.

However, his arrival at the shelter — their trailer having sunk in a fracture — was met by a scramble of wary refugees, spitting on him and yelling atrocities because of his affiliation with the now-banned Hellfire Club. In the middle of the crowd, Dustin, Robin and Nancy ran up to him, linking arms with him and bringing him to the sandwich table, where Vickie prepared a double decker sandwich. Later on, Steve and Mike joined them, cussing at whoever came close to him with bad intentions.

Once he spent a few nights in his cot, surrounded by everyone, they began to understand that he posed no threat, seeing him on a regular basis, going about his business and his normal life.

If this life was anything remotely close to normal.

As for Steve, he's shut his emotions off in order to care for others, putting himself in the background until the overload became too much to bear.

And here they are, sobbing in each other's arms behind a 7-Eleven at night.

Steve pulls a pack of tissues out of his pocket and cracks it open, handing it to Eddie first. Embarrassed by their emotions, they avoid looking at each other for a minute, blowing their nose or wiping the tears away.

"I haven't cried like that since I was a kid," Eddie disrupts the silence with a chuckle. "Probably not since mom and dad died."

"What happened to them?"

"Mom was sick. Dad OD'ed."

"Fuck... I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, man. You couldn't know. Never told anyone."

"How old were you?"

"About 6 when I started living with my uncle."

Steve nods and sips his slushie, resting his head against the wall. His eyes wander across the empty road, missing seeing all the traffic. How eerie it was to see the once swarming Hawkins devoid of life. Perhaps it would've been better for him to leave too, but the idea of leaving Dustin, Robin and Nancy behind was unbearable.

"I wish I could've talked to them."

Eddie's voice nearly startles him. He turns his head to face him, finding him in the same position as him, except that he hardly touches the slushie. His big eyes are clouded by a somber veil, lost in the distance.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The Cunninghams."

The overly sweet taste of cherry glides down Steve's throat, leaving a cold trail. For a moment, he regrets drinking it in the first place, the temperature outside being already low.

"What would you have said to them?"

"I don't know," Eddie shrugs. "It would've been pointless anyway. Wouldn't bring their daughter back."

"Maybe it would've given them closure. Especially after the army cleared you."

"Maybe."

Eddie runs a hand through his entangled hair, wincing as his fingers yank at knots.

"I guess I would've offered them my condolences. Told them how nice their daughter was. That she had a heart big enough for everyone. Even for a freak like me."

Steve slams his hand upon his shoulder, pursing his lips as their gazes meet.

"That would've been nice, yeah. But from what I know, her mom was awful to her."

"What do you mean?"

"There were rumors in the basketball team that she had eating disorders. The few times her mom showed up, it ended up with her yelling at Chrissy in the corridor. Just pinpointing every little thing she deemed she did wrong. I can't remember a single game without her crying at the end."

Closing his fist, Eddie draws in a deep breath.

"Then it's maybe for the best that I didn't meet Mrs. Cunningham."

He pauses, twirling his slushie inside his cup.

"Do you think that's what Vecna fed on?"

"Probably. I didn't know her well."

"I wish I'd known her better."

"I know. But you have to let go, Eddie. I know what everyone out there said, but you're not responsible for her death. Only Vecna is."

Eddie suckles on the straw before his tears start rushing back.

"Seriously, Ed," Steve insists. "It was out of your control. You knew nothing of the Upside Down back then."

"I know. I try to keep that in mind."

Steve pops the lid off his cup and tilts his head back to let the remaining ice drop into his mouth. Eddie laughs at the sight of his coloured tongue, marked by the red shade of the cherry flavor. Before taking another sip, he nudges him gently.

"But you know, Harrington, I'm glad we got to know each other during all this. You're... You're a good guy."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve smiles back, blushing at the compliment. "You're a good guy too."

"So we can agree on never telling anyone about tonight?"

"Deal."

The pair laughs the pain away, chatting as Eddie finishes his drink. Once he's done, he heads back to the shop to buy snacks, bringing them back outside as he finds Steve kicking pebbles in front of the door.

"Hey, Harrington, I've got a good way to release some of that pressure. You're in?"

"Depends on what it is."

Eddie trots up to the car, clutching the bags of chips and the candy against his chest, biting his bottom lip with a grin. Steve falls into step, unlocking the car as soon as he reaches it. As soon as they sit inside, Eddie locks his own door and leans over his new friend to lock his.

"Okay, what is going on?" Steve asks, panicked.

Pulling out the Anthrax tape he was listening to at the shelter from his pocket, he dangles it in front of Steve's face.

"Playing one of these babies and screaming the hell out of yourself."

While he usually wouldn't agree to it, not being a fan of metal music, Steve chuckles and ejects his Queen tape from the player, tucking it back into its case. In the meantime, Eddie slips Spreading the Disease in, rewinding it before pressing play, cranking the sound up to a deafening volume.

As the first notes of A.I.R. fill the air, Steve starts the car and dashes out of the parking lot, encouraged by Eddie's shouting and fist pumping. The BMW races on the desolate roads, blasting the music throughout the landscapes of Indiana. Inside, Steve and Eddie scream at the top of their lungs, either the lyrics or the burden they've been carrying for too long.

When Steve accidentally bites his tongue in the process, he glances at his friend and bursts out laughing, soon imitated by him.

They created their own bubble, leaving all their cares back in Hawkins. They decide to use that night to roam away from them, singing themselves hoarse until dawn.

And for those few hours, all feels well.

But nothing lasts forever.