Routine Nine:
I
She wakes in her bed in the morning light, with sweat-soaked skin, and harsh breathing, and she still hears the whispers.
Hears the clock, chiming once.
Twice.
Thrice.
And four times.
Chrissy gets out of bed. Walks past her mother without care, and she leaves her house in nothing but her pajamas, and no makeup again. Before it would have horrified her. Be perfect. Cover up your freckles, you look unkempt, darken your lashes you look as if you have none, curl your hair, it looks like a nest. But who cared about perfect? Chrissy had stopped caring. She had never been perfect. Always almost perfect. Or good enough.
I was never enough. I will never be enough. And that's why I die. It is why Henry chose me. Why he can break me.
"Christine Elizabeth Cunningham-" her mother is screaming, following her as she calmly walks down the stairs.
Part of her is tempted to throw herself down them. But she's not sure if the fall will kill her, and Henry breaks her enough for her to know that she prefers when she punctured her own throat. It had been less painful, at least.
Her mother is still screaming when she turns back to look at her.
The same things as always. She's an animal of great size. She needs to measure herself, she has to be perfect Christine Elizabeth. Her Father stares from the top of the stairs. He always watches. Not maliciously. Not concernedly. Just a spectator in his children's torment. A man's job is to bring home money, and it's the woman's to raise the children. He follows that with a religious zeal that he does not follow anywhere else.
Christine realizes she hates them both.
Not just her mother.
But both of them. And if it hadn't been for Henry, she thinks they would have killed her nonetheless in time. Like a frog in a pot, and she hadn't realized the waters were already boiling.
"I hate you both," she says mildly, voice flat, "You're horrible people."
She walks out her front door.
She half expects Henry to take her, each step she takes. She does hear the clock, but… No spiders scurry at the corner of her eyes. She realizes it's been a while since she saw them, other than in the hospital room two Routines ago. She hears his damn four chimes, but no longer his creepy spiders scuttle across her sight. He takes her quicker when he starts, she knows, because she can push back, and he still needs his gates opened. She's noticed a pattern. She held him off for longer, maybe a few fractions of seconds, but long nonetheless.
Fighting directly hadn't helped. Running away hadn't helped. She's running low on ideas. Other than trying to get better at pushing, she needed to regroup and think about her next step. But she needs a break. Again, selfishly, stupidly, Chrissy just wants to step away. She… She needs to step away. She wishes desperately to just… Not be in this situation.
Her bare toes step against asphalt and grass, she walks for hours, never more evident that she woke up before dawn on the day she dies. She doesn't remember if she's ever woken up after dawn in her life… Her earliest memories is her mother walking her up to jog off any 'lingering' ounces when she was four. Hawkins on the morning of her death is so normal that it sort of breaks her heart. Just a normal Friday, just before Spring Break. It's only slightly cold, but maybe that's her favorite pajamas and her bare feet. She walks and walks and walks as the sun rises and she just…
Breathes.
Chrissy thinks she's forgotten how. It's an automatic function of her body, yet she has forgotten how.
"Whoa there- You good Cunningham?"
Eddie Munson is in his van, his music blasting. Something surprisingly mellow thing. Something about a sanitarium, and it's growing into something blaring- It's amazing she hadn't even noticed him. She realizes with a sort of startled acknowledgment that she had been walking towards Eddie's castle, instead of stealing her mother's car to get there. She swallows, she knows she's half numb at this point.
"Hi," she says lamely, hand lifting in a half-hearted wave and she remembers he had held her as she died in her last Routine.
She thinks Eddie Munson is one of the sweetest people she knows, and he doesn't know her at all.
"Hi," he says, easily, brows furrowed and confused. He too lifts his hands and curls into a little wave. She is surprised, but not, when he shuts off his van, "What's the cheer captain doing walking around when there's a ra-ra pep rally scheduled- Jesus are you barefoot Cunnigham?"
His eyes flicker down at her, and instead of his usual bluster, he's turned all concern in instant. His worried eyes stare at her, at her red eyes and her cut-up feet. She was bleeding. She didn't feel it. He of course, always, jumps out of his van to help her. Hands out, approaching her like she was a spoked animal.
She supposed she sort of was.
"Yeah. And I'm ditching. Fuck the pep rally."
It's not like it's the first time. She's skipped it- She thinks at least twice on purpose? This time she's just gonna… Wander around Hawkins, and see places she hasn't in a long time, hopefully, think of something to do for when Henry comes for her again. She thinks she's going to get a cheeseburger with a strawberry milkshake- She- She's just-so fucking scared and she just wants something to feel nice, like Eddie's arms around her.
Eddie whistles, he's getting closer, small steps. Part of Chrissy wants to fling herself at him. But he doesn't know her. He's taking it from the top. If she does she might scare him off. And being with Eddie is always so goddamn nice.
"Chrissy Cunningham you're a freak."
Despite everything, despite how tired she is-
A smile blooms. Because he says it like it's the best thing he has ever learned. And she thinks its the best thing she's ever learned about herself.
Christine Elizabeth Cunningham, she's a freak. And she's growing to be proud of that.
"You motherfucking bet I am," she says, and how sad is it that it's taken her this long to swear. She's such a priss.
Prissy Chrissy, knows some of the girls on the squad call her. And it's always meant to be a judgment because she's eighteen and she's a virgin and she says words like 'Crumbs' when she's upset. Eddie looks like he just got Christmas and his Birthday all in one as he cackles. Head thrown back. He laughs with his whole body. He does everything with all of himself, wide and expressive. She loves his laugh, and his smile because it's crooked and a little dorky but honest.
"Whoa, didn't know you had it in you, Cunningham."
His dark eyes glitter.
"There's a lot you don't know, Eddie," she replies, and she can't help how warm her voice is.
He's smiling.
God, she really loves how he smiles. She has no idea how she thought he was scary when he has the sweetest, most honest smile in the whole world. His smile changes. Shy and god still so sweet.
"Do… Do you need a ride somewhere?"
"Crumbs," she sniffs, smiling, "That's sweet of you. How 'bout the dinner? I want a cheeseburger so badly."
"You're chariot, M'lady."
He bows, gallant and nerdy. She laughs. He makes her laugh so easily.
"Thank you, gallant Ser!"
She curtsies back. Even if it's ridiculous with her bare feet and her cheer shorts. She climbs in.