In Eddie's car parked at the very edge of the hospital parking lot, nearest to the exit in case he needed to vault and run and give Jason the slip, Eddie hit his head against the steering wheel.

"Stay alive, Chrissy?" He echoed one of his last sentiments to her, wincing at his own stupidity, "No Eddie, I thought I'd just try some light suicide." He mimicked in Chrissy's voice, though it wasn't a very good mimicking, and then groaned again.

It was really, really shitty of him to be making such dark jokes, all things considered. Sure, his humor certainly edged the line of 'Woah, you talk to your mother with that sort of mouth', but ha, jokes on them…he doesn't have a mother to wash his mouth out with soap, not anymore!

And there he goes again. That comforting, sweet dark humor.

If he wants to be around Chrissy, he thinks he must do two things.

Number One: Stop saying completely idiotic statements to her.

Of course, she's going to try to live. That should go without saying. Why would he need to remind her of that?

Number Two: Watch his language. His swearing, in particular, along with his tendency to make jokes that make others extremely uncomfortable. For most, it's a tool to weed out those he'd rather not associate with. But it's different with Chrissy.

And hell, why is he even making these rules in the first place? Does he honestly think that they'll be interacting enough to merit a set of rules for himself?

Well, you hope so, bud.

His inner voice lately has begun to sound like Dustin and this annoys him to no end.

But his mind-Dustin is also right.

Or else he wouldn't be sitting in the hospital parking lot at three AM running through the entire conversation he just had, worrying about how frail she looked, or replaying the multiple times she surprised the hell out of him.

He hadn't expected to interact with her at all after she was possessed by Vecna in his house.

But then he heard that she was stirring. The doctors went from believing she was a brain-dead case to thinking that perhaps she'd wake up.

And then he'd found himself, somehow, taking vigil in this hospital. He stayed out of sight until there was a commotion, and at least got to see her awake and talking.

And he told himself, "Sir, that will be the last time!"

Dunno, he thought if he called himself 'sir' it would sound like a military command. And maybe it would stick.

Clearly, that didn't work either.

He had to make sure she was actually okay, not just see it through the dingy glass before running for his life from the athlete idiot supreme and his merry band of flying monkeys.

But he'd confirmed it now, hadn't he? She was okay. She was out of the woods.

Oh, Eddie, you know she's not.

"Head-Dustin, shut the hell up," Eddie muttered, turning over his engine a couple of times before it sputtered to life. One day this piece of shit would give its last 'pah' of power and crap out on him.

He kept praying it wouldn't be today, and right now, prayers answered.

Okay, so on levels of 'okayness', Chrissy was middling.

She was alive, yay! She was talking and sentient, yay! Her arm wasn't broken beyond repair or amputated, yay!

But mentally?

Eeeeh, yikes. Not okay there.

But it's not his problem. It's Chrissy's problem. And if it belongs to anyone outside of Chrissy, it's maybe her literal boyfriend and current town sweetheart, Jason.

As much as Eddie tries to convince himself of this, all the way back to his trailer, he knows…he just knows, this is not the last time he'll see her.

He's always been shitty at willpower, but never has he been so drawn in, so unable to help himself as he is now.

The next morning, or rather, the afternoon he's awoken by a loud rapping on his front door.

His first panic is that it's the cops. That although Steve said that he had it handled, something's gone wrong and he'll be locked up forever.

Then it hits him…he was supposed to be at his band's practice two hours ago. He tugs on jeans and trips over his boots laying askew, swearing in song-form all the way to the door.

"Fuck, fuck, fucky-hey guys!" Eddie says, forcing a smile as he opens the door.

Gareth and Jeff scowl deeply at him.

"Do you, ah, want some…?" Eddie pats himself, thinking of something he could offer them, "Weed? A beer? LSD?" He doesn't actually have any LDS. He hopes they won't say that one.

"We want you to fucking show up to your own band practice, man!" Gareth says, refusing to enter, "It's the second time! I hope you have a good excuse."

"Hey, hey. Counting when I was hiding from the cops is totally lame to count." Eddie says, narrowing his eyes. If he wanted to really blow their band up, he'd mention that a certain someone sold him out by selling Lucas out.

Traitor, in his eyes.

He knows that letting this tension sit is no good for the band, but he tends to hold a grudge.

"You think we'd count that? No, what about last Friday!" Gareth sputtered. Eddie winced. He hadn't been there either. So, yeah, okay, two.

"I was...out last night," Eddie said lamely, "And tired." And trying to figure out why Chrissy held such a hold over him. He'd been running that one in his head until around five A.M.

"With your new friends?" Jeff sneered.

"No, just…" Eddie licked his lip, "Okay, sort of."

"Yeah, just like I thought," Gareth said, turning around, "You know what dude? I hope you're very, very happy with them. Don't show up to practice again unless you actually fucking mean it."

"It's my band, dickwads!" Eddie shouts after them, "You can't kick me out!"

"It's my garage!" Gareth spins around, "And we just did. Boom! We formally ex-communicate you, bro." Jeff nods in agreement, making an 'x' symbol with his fingers like Eddie was a vampire he was trying to ward off.

Eddie paces angrily for a second, trying to come up with a great zinger to throw back at them, but by the time he thinks of something halfway witty, they've already loaded into Jeff's car.

As the hurt and anger sting from this confrontation, he knows that on some level, it's justified.

He just wishes he could make them see that he's out of choices and desperately needs this lifeline.

He knew that his friendship with Steve, Nancy, and Robin would be…unusual to say the least. He never thought it would tear his former group apart.

But sure, it probably didn't make a lick of sense to them.

Steve Harrington, a former crush of practically every girl at Hawkins High. Great hair. Kinda a loser after graduation, though.

Nancy Wheeler: the biggest preppy Miss-Perfect there ever was. Jokes about having her panties so far in a twist that they were up her ass were commonly thrown around before he got to know her.

Robin Buckley. Just…weird. In a way totally unlike his weird. Unnerving weird.

Why the hell would he want to hang around those three?

He had tried, okay. He'd tried to explain that their bond had been forged in blood and a whole bunch of scary shit that wasn't supposed to exist.

For as much as Jeff and Gareth probably hoped things like the Demogorgon existed, for as much as they loved horror and fantasy, their minds were not prepared to comprehend or believe Eddie when he tried to tell them.

They just thought it was one big excuse or a joke that he'd been committing to for far too long.

It wasn't without precedent. He once played a joke on Gareth for a whole year.

But this was different! It was so deadly serious and no one believed him, sans his three new friends.

When he had nightmares that crippled him and had him crying like a toddler, who else was he going to call. Jeff? Hell naw. He was going to radio someone from his new crew, just to make sure he was still breathing, and that he was alive, and check on them.

Add in the fact, now, that he also associated on a very friendly level with a group of freshmen? And they didn't even know about the annoying middle-schooler Erica.

Okay, if he were in their shoes, he would have thought he himself had lost his mind.

But he hadn't. Or had he?

It didn't matter, did it?

When he had to pick and chose, he'd chosen the group that kept him alive and helped him through one of the scariest weeks of his life.

And Jeff and Gareth and the rest of the Hellfire Club did understand this.

And god he hoped they'd never have to.

It still sucked a big fat one, though.

XX

He was making dinner when it hit him.

Well, let's back this up.

The crew all came over - it seemed to be their thing. Traveling in a pack, making sure everyone was still okay. He idly wondered when he would also join their roving pack. Did they just pick you up and say 'come with us, we're up to something' or did you have to ask to join? Was it a big time commitment? Did he need to pay membership fees? These were the questions that plagued Eddie about being part of what Mike Wheeler called 'The Party'.

"Surprised you haven't been evicted yet," Steve said, pointing to the portal to the Upside Down, "And this place isn't being condemned. Wait. Can you condemn a trailer?"

"Surprising how people don't give half a shit when you live in a place like this," Eddie snorted, "Where else would we go?" He could pack up and go, sure. Steve had already offered a spare bedroom. But what about his uncle? The man deserved more than just vanishing with a 'good luck'. According to Nancy, he'd always believed in Eddie's innocence, and though he and his uncle lived like two awkward roommates since his parent's death, his heart was truly warmed to hear that someone had his back.

"Pretty sure that's a health hazard," Dustin said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, haven't you heard? So is living," Eddie said, "I'll just tape a towel over it. Problem solved, alright?" He'd always been a bit self-conscious about this house, and Chrissy had been the first one to make him feel like it was okay he lived here. He may not love this space, but it was his and it was frustrating to have to defend it to others.

Were their points valid?

Oh, totally.

It was the principal, though.

"We haven't heard anything more from Vecna," Nancy said, "But I still think he's planning something. We know it. And until Mike and Eleven are back, we're pretty much sitting ducks."

"You came all the way over here to tell me something I already know?" Eddie asked, "I thought you actually had news!"

"Why are you so scared of it? Got some secrets, Munson? Got reasons to be emotionally vulnerable?" Robin said, lounging on his couch, far too casual for her first time here, "I don't think people like you are prime targets. My money would be on Steve."

Steve made a sound in the back of his throat, "Hurtful."

"I'm not, I'm just-," Eddie broke off before he said what he planned on saying next, which is that he was concerned Vecna would go back for Chrissy again now that she was awake, "Look, look, there are just still people at risk."

"I've started to make peace with it, but I'm…touched," Max said, frowning at Eddie, "I think I'm stronger mentally now."

"Oh, right. Good." Eddie said, giving a thumbs up.

"You weren't talking about Max," Dustin said, narrowing his eyes. He spun toward Lucas, pointing a finger, "The basketball team!"

"I haven't heard anything," Lucas said, "They can't officially kick me off the team, and the season's over anyway, but it won't be pretty back at school." He said with a shake of his head.

"Have they been annoying you lately?" Dustin asked. They'd started to send hate mail to Lucas not soon after the events of all of it went down, calling him a traitor or worse. 'Annoying him' was putting the situation lightly.

Lucas frowned, "No…oh! So that means-,"

"Chrissy's awake," Dustin said with a wide grin, "And you've been to see her."

"Well, I had to make sure that I didn't cause any lasting damage. Or, uhm, that didn't," He said, pointing to the ceiling, "It's just been once. Okay, okay, it's been twice!" He said, the dubious expressions of the group wearing him down.

"Awww! Cute." Robin crooned from the corner.

"It's not cute, it's just…" Eddie inhaled hard. As much as he did appreciate his new friends, all of them together could be a bit overwhelming, especially since they had a cadence of years together he did not yet have, "She's pretty alone there, you know? She has her parents and Jason and yeah, the entire basketball team, but no one hears her when she talks. And she has this big cast and all the signatures are so fake and so stupid. She's stuck there another five days. Bored out of her skull; don't blame her. I just think that-," He paused his rant when he saw the smile Nancy was trying very hard to hold in and the open-mouthed shit-eating grin Dustin couldn't keep off his face.

"Dude!" He guffawed.

Eddie blinked, "Uhm, what, Henderson?" He wasn't sure he liked how Dustin was looking at him.

"Shh! He doesn't realize it yet," Nancy said, whacking Dustin's arm, "Don't ruin it!"

"Doesn't realize what? Hello?" Eddie waved a hand in front of Nancy, "I'm right here!"

"Oh, but…Nancy!" Dustin whined, "It would be so fun to tell him."

"If this is what I think it's about," Steve interjected, "He's not too far off from realizing it himself."

"From what?" Eddie felt like he was going crazy. Was he in his own mirror world and no one could hear him? "Do I need to know about something else?" He demanded.

"Oh, this isn't Upside Down related," Nancy assured him, "We all should be getting going!" She added abruptly, quickly herding the group out of his house, "Have a good day, Eddie. I hope that Chrissy knows what a good friend she has in you." But she said it with a sneaky smile.

The only clue Eddie got was, as they were leaving, Dustin gave a laugh, "Man. He is so far gone."

"Kettle black, Neverending Story."

Eddie spent the rest of the day in a narrowed-eye stare, trying to decipher what the hell they meant. He replayed every inch of that conversation on repeat, muttering it over and over under his breath.

He was just about starting to think that they were just pulling a fast one over him, that there was no secret and it was 'pull a prank on Eddie' day as some sort of hazing introduction to their friend group until he was making dinner. And thinking about Chrissy. And how if she were here, she would probably be okay with the dinners he made. He tried not to use the microwave often. He wasn't a chef by any means, but he prided himself in being able to create something besides just an icebox meal.

As he was changing his own recipe to what he was mentally imaging Chrissy might want, and imagining the way he might joke with her and talk as he made them dinner, the realization hit him like a bird smacking into a glass window.

"Jesus H Christ. I'm in love with Chrissy."

The truth of the words seemed to vibrate as he said them, as though the universe was going 'yes, finally, don't you get it yet?'.

He never got to eat his dinner that night, having abandoned it to sit in a deep existential crisis of his being. His entire thoughts were held captive by this striking thought that, the more he considered it, the more he knew it was true.

It was how she made his heart turn over when he was around her. Or how he got unbearably nervous and said stupid things in her presence. Or how the smell of whatever perfume she wore drove him insane. Or, the one that really cemented it, how his whole body itched at every moment to go and sit with her again, even though he had no right or reason to.

"You done fucked up, man," He told himself.

The loser outcast and the cheerleader.

The loser outcast who was wanted for murder and the cheerleader dating the person who wanted to skin him alive.

He wasn't sure what was worse; that he was now a walking cliche that previously he would have actively made fun of, or that he was so far gone just as Dustin so astutely teased, that he didn't even care.