A few hours had passed since the others left, and the light outside had shifted from the pale gray of dawn to the bright early afternoon. Inside the boathouse, the air was cold, the musty scent of damp wood and old machinery lingering in the space. The silence between Dove and Eddie felt heavy as they sat among the dust-covered tools and the creaky floorboards, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
Dove leaned back against the cold wooden wall, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. The boathouse felt eerily still, save for the occasional groan of the old structure settling. Eddie sat across from her, his legs stretched out in front of him, idly flipping the guitar pick from his necklace between his fingers as he processed everything she'd just unloaded on him.
"So," Eddie began, his voice cutting through the heavy silence, "when you told me that your mystery creature turned out to be a frog.." He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"It wasn't technically a lie," Dove muttered defensively. "It was.. frog-adjacent."
Eddie snorted, shaking his head. "Frog-adjacent. Right. Because frogs usually have razor-sharp teeth and eat cats."
Dove winced at the memory, her arms tightening slightly around her knees. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't your average bullfrog. But it wasn't exactly my fault that Dustin kept it like some kind of pet."
Eddie tilted his head, his lips curving into a crooked grin. "Sure, sure. Let's blame the kid. Not the older, wiser sibling who could've, I don't know, stopped him?"
Dove raised an eyebrow, her voice dry. "You try saying no to Dustin when he's in full puppy dog mode."
Eddie nodded slowly, as if turning the idea over in his head. "And, just to clarify," he said, his tone tinged with disbelief. "The lady you met at The Hideout—she wasn't a college recruiter. She was a government agent who, what? Threatened to kill you if you didn't sign an NDA?"
Dove rolled her eyes, leaning back against the dusty wall. "She didn't threaten to kill me. She just.. strongly implied that things would get very bad if I didn't cooperate."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "So, in response, you rewrote an entire government document? Like, reworded the fine print and everything?"
"Not the whole thing," Dove clarified, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Eddie leaned back, crossing his arms with an exaggerated nod. "Uh-huh. Then you stumbled into Red Dawn, threatened to kill multiple Russian soldiers, survived a fake massacre, and said, 'you know what I'm gonna do next? Cheerleading.'"
Dove groaned, leaning her head back against the wall. "Okay, when you put it like that, it does sound ridiculous."
Eddie smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "I mean, surviving interdimensional monsters and covert government conspiracies just to lead pep rallies? That's like if Batman spent his free time as a barista."
Dove smirked, shaking her head. "If Batman were this good at choreography, maybe Gotham wouldn't be such a mess."
Eddie laughed, the sound echoing through the boathouse. "Well, for what it's worth, Princess, you're officially the most badass person I know. And that's coming from the guy who met Ozzy Osbourne backstage at the Civic Center and watched him bite the head off a bat."
Dove scrunched up her nose in disgust. "That's not badass, Eddie—that's just gross."
Eddie smirked, leaning back against the wall. "Gross? Sure. Iconic? Absolutely. The man set the bar for crazy, and here you are, somehow clearing it without even trying."
"I'll pass on biting any bats, thanks," Dove said dryly, crossing her arms.
Eddie shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Suit yourself. But Russian soldiers? Interdimensional monsters? Cheerleading? Ozzy could never."
Dove studied him for a moment. He was smiling, joking like he always did, but she could see it—the tension underneath, the way his shoulders were just a little too stiff, how his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Eddie hid it well, but Dove could tell this was a lot for him. Hell, it would be a lot for anyone.
She leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. "Hey," she said, catching his gaze. "Everything's gonna be okay."
Eddie's smile faltered, just for a second, before he recovered. He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "That so? You've got a crystal ball tucked away somewhere, Princess? Or maybe a secret to getting the townsfolk to put down their pitchforks?"
"I've fought things much worse than the small minded idiots in this town Eddie," Dove said firmly, moving to sit next to him on the floor. "We're going to kill Vecna, clear your name, and then you're finally gonna walk across that stage at graduation."
Eddie glanced at her, his eyes full of doubt, but there was a flicker of something else—hope, maybe. "Graduate, huh? You still think I'm gonna pull that off?"
Dove smirked, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "You better. I didn't spend the last seven months tutoring you for nothing."
Eddie chuckled dryly, the sound low and a little hoarse, as he leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.
Dove smiled, her tone softening. "And after graduation, we're getting the hell out of here. No more monsters, no more Hawkins. Just.. freedom."
Eddie's gaze dropped from the ceiling, his expression sobering as he looked at her. "Why are you sticking by me, Dove? You don't have to.. you shouldn't be stuck in this mess."
Dove reached over and gently placed her hand on his arm. "Because you're my friend, Eddie. And I'm not letting you go down for something you didn't do."
Eddie stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers for some kind of reassurance. Slowly, he nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Okay.. okay. We'll prove I didn't kill anyone and then we'll get out of here. Together."
Dove smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "That's right. We're getting out of here."
Eddie leaned back against the wall, his eyes closing for just a moment, as if the idea of a future beyond Hawkins was finally starting to sink in.
As the light outside grew brighter, Dove leaned against Eddie's shoulder, both of them finding a rare moment of peace in the quiet. The tension that had weighed down the air between them earlier seemed to lift slightly, replaced by the comfort of shared hope, however fragile. They stayed like that for a while, just listening to the distant sound of the lake and the creaking of the old shed.
Then, out of nowhere, Eddie broke the silence.
"You know what we need for our apartment?" he asked, his voice casual but with a mischievous edge.
Dove glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
"A life-size cardboard cutout of David Lee Roth. You know, from Van Halen? We'll put him, in all of his shirtless glory, right in the living room where he can judge all of our life choices." He grinned, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the idea.
Dove laughed, the sound echoing through the boathouse. "Absolutely not."
Eddie gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like she'd wounded him. "Come on, Dove. You'd learn to love him."
"Nope, no chance," Dove replied, still laughing as she shook her head. "But we can get something a little less.. ridiculous. Like a record player or maybe some actual furniture."
Eddie grinned, clearly happy just to see her laugh. "Fine, fine. But I'm still getting the cutout for my room. And we need a neon sign. Something that says, 'No Russians allowed'."
Dove rolled her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder again. "You're impossible."
They continued to talk about their future apartment, throwing out ridiculous ideas like velvet couches, lava lamps, and a jukebox for the corner. Dove found herself more relaxed than she'd been in days, the weight of everything momentarily lifting as they laughed together.
A car door slammed outside, breaking the peaceful moment.
Dove instantly shot to her feet, her heart racing. She rushed over to the window, trying to peer out, but the angle made it impossible to see whoever had just arrived.
"I can't see who it is," she whispered, her voice tense.
Eddie was already standing next to the door, gripping the broken beer bottle tightly in his hand, his body rigid with fear. His eyes darted between the door and Dove, as if ready to defend them at any moment.
Dove's pulse quickened as she strained to listen for any sounds from outside. Gripping one of the oars from the wall, she raised it like a weapon, her muscles tense. The door swung open, and she instantly relaxed as Dustin stepped in, grocery bags hanging from his arms.
"Delivery service!" Dustin announced with a grin.
Robin, Max, and Steve followed him in, each carrying their own bags. Eddie rushed forward, eagerly taking the bags from them and sifting through until he found a Yoo-hoo and a box of Honeycomb cereal. Without hesitation, he tore open the box, climbed into the old boat, and started shoving handfuls of cereal into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days.
Dustin set his hands on his hips, trying to gather everyone's attention. "So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?" he asked, glancing toward Eddie and sitting on a nearby stool.
Eddie paused, about to shove a handful of cereal into his mouth. "Bad news first, always."
"All right, bad news." Dove braced herself as Dustin continued. "Hawkins PD is still looking for you. They are now completely convinced that you killed Chrissy."
Eddie's face dropped, his hand freezing mid-way to his mouth with the bottle of Yoo-hoo. "And the good news?" he asked cautiously, his words jumbled through a mouthful of cereal.
"Your name hasn't gone public yet," Robin chimed in, trying to offer a small sliver of hope. "But if we found out about you, it's only a matter of time before others do."
"Not to mention Jason and his crew hunting you down," Dove added quietly, her gaze flicking over to Eddie, who swallowed hard.
Robin nodded in agreement, "And once your name's out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you."
"Hunt the freak, right?" Eddie choked out, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with dread.
"Exactly," Robin confirmed with a grimace, leaning against the old workbench.
"So before that happens," Dustin said, straightening up, "we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence."
Eddie blinked, disbelief written all over his face. "That's all, Dustin?" he asked with a bitter laugh. "That's all?"
"But," Robin chimed in again, trying to keep the mood light. "We've actually kind of been through this before. I mean.." She gestured to the group. "They have. A few times. And I have, like, once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this."
Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, as if the weight of the situation was starting to dawn on him. "We usually rely on this girl who has superpowers.. but, uh, those went bye-bye, so.."
"So we're technically in more of the—" Robin stumbled over her words, trying to reassure Eddie.
"Brainstorming phase," Max finished for her, her tone more blunt.
Steve pointed at her and snapped his fingers. "Brainstorming."
Eddie looked around the room, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Brainstorming? That's where we're at?"
"There's nothing to worry about," Dustin added quickly, though his nervous expression betrayed him.
Dove exhaled deeply, sensing Eddie's growing panic. "Guys, this isn't helping," she muttered softly, but firmly.
The tension in the room hung thick in the air as they all fell silent for a moment, each of them processing the gravity of the situation in their own way.
Sirens blared nearby, breaking the tense silence and snapping everyone from their thoughts.
Robin's eyes widened as she pointed at the boat. "Tarp!"
Without hesitation, Eddie dove under the tarp in the boat, his breath ragged as he tried to still himself. Dove, Steve, Robin, Dustin, and Max ran to the window, peering through the cracked glass as multiple police cars and an ambulance streaked down the road.
Dove turned to Steve, her pulse quickening. Their eyes met, and in that instant, a silent understanding passed between them. Something was happening, and it wasn't good. Without a word, they both rushed toward the door, pulling it open with urgency.
"Wait, where are you going?" Eddie peeked out from under the tarp, panic creeping back into his voice.
"We'll be back soon," Dustin reassured him. "Stay here. Stay hidden."
The group bolted out the door, not looking back as they piled into Steve's car. Dove barely had time to fasten her seatbelt before Steve revved the engine and sped off, tires screeching against the gravel. The sirens faded ahead of them, but the flashing lights were still visible in the distance, leading them down the highway.
As Dove stepped out of the car, the midday sun beat down on the scene, casting long shadows across the road.
A line of bright yellow police tape stretched across the highway, fluttering slightly in the breeze. Officers and officials bustled about, their movements purposeful but tense. The sound of murmured conversations and crackling radios filled the air.
Dove's gaze drifted to the white sheet draped over the ground, the unmistakable outline of a body beneath it. Her stomach tightened as she noticed how the body was bent unnaturally, limbs twisted at odd angles that no living person could survive. She clenched her jaw, fighting the wave of nausea rising in her throat.
Beyond the police tape, Nancy Wheeler stood talking to Chief Powell, her expression tense. Powell nodded grimly, taking notes in a small pad.
Dove shifted, trying to shake the eerie feeling crawling up her spine. Just as she was about to look away from the scene, something flickered in her peripheral vision. She turned her head slightly and saw a shadow moving in the woods.
Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn't an animal—it was the distinct shape of a man, his form barely visible through the dense trees. He moved with purpose, walking deeper into the shadows, away from the scene and disappearing into the thick foliage.
Dove blinked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. She glanced back at the others—Steve, Dustin, Max, and Robin were all fixated on the crime scene, consumed by the horror in front of them. No one else had noticed the figure.
Without thinking, Dove stepped toward the woods, her feet moving as if on their own accord. She felt a strange pull, her curiosity and unease mixing into a tight knot in her stomach.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice barely louder than a whisper at first. She cleared her throat and called out again, louder this time, "Who's there?"
The man didn't stop. He continued walking deeper into the shadows, his movements almost unnatural, too smooth, too quiet.
Dove followed, her heart pounding in her chest as she ventured further into the woods. The sounds of the crime scene grew distant behind her, replaced by the eerie rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.
As she got closer, she recognized the man.
It was Billy.
Dove's heart froze in her chest. His back was to her, his broad shoulders still as he stood between the trees. "Billy?" she whispered, her voice shaking.
He didn't move at first, but then his head tilted slightly, as though he had heard her. "You told Max I would be okay." He said, his voice echoing through the trees like a distorted memory.
The words chilled her to the bone. Before she could react, he slowly turned around, and her stomach dropped.
There was a gaping black hole in his chest, dark and empty, the same place where the Mind Flayer had stabbed him months ago. His face was twisted and rotten, like a decaying corpse, eyes hollow and lips cracked.
Dove tried to scream, but no sound came out. She took a step back, her entire body trembling in fear, her legs threatening to give way beneath her.
Tick. Tock.
The sound of the clock echoed around her, louder then ever—relentless.
She turned around, desperate to escape, but almost collided with someone else. She gasped, her heart racing in her chest as she looked up.
Chrissy stood in front of her, tears streaking down her face, her mascara smudged. Her eyes were wide with silent terror, her lips trembling as she cried soundlessly.
"Chrissy?" Dove whispered, but the girl didn't respond.
Suddenly, Chrissy was lifted into the air, her body floating just as Eddie had described. Dove just watched, unable to move, frozen in horror as the scene unfolded in front of her.
Chrissy's limbs began to snap, one by one, her body contorting unnaturally, her bones cracking like twigs. Her head tilted back, her eyes rolling into her skull as her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The clock chimed, each strike sending a wave of dread crashing over Dove. The sound reverberated in her skull, drowning out every rational thought.
A voice whispered in her ear, low and menacing, "It's almost time."
Dove's blood ran cold and her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around frantically. She was back at the car, her knuckles white as she gripped the open door. She glanced around at the others, but they were still watching the bustling crime scene, unaware of the horrors she had just seen.