Chapter Text
Oh,
Run away, the past will bite again
Oh,
No matter where you dwell
You,
Here again, a captive of the howl
You,
Welcome back to hell
-Metallica, "Am I Savage?"
EDDIE
Eddie never thought about death in a serious way.
You know, not that serious. He was just trying not to see it, at least not in the nearest future. He had a lot of plans! To finally finish school, maybe, to give the finger to Mrs. Welch on the graduation ceremony, to give a Good-bye concert and, finally, to get out of this goddamn Hawkins to a place, where dudes like him don’t get any crazy looks and wry dumb-ass faces from behind. He was hoping that he could earn enough not to make Wayne uncomfortable. He wanted this year to be His year. He had everything under control. Until that thing with another dimension and the Red Skull, who escaped from the comics (due to Max’s description) happened.
He couldn’t even think, that he will die before he can afford to give Wayne a Birthday present more expensive than a new lighter. Wayne, who was better parental figure than his own parents, who he prefers not to think about once again. Damn, he really wanted to tell all this sentimental shit to his uncle right before death. To see him getting that warm misty-eyed sight every time Eddie says something sweet to him. He wanted him to meet Dustin, they’d get along together… Anyways they can both sometimes make a big deal and worry too much about him, which is touching and annoying at the same time. Actually, he’d draw up a certain plan about what he would say to each of his friends. And dead sure he would ask not to do any kind of goddamn tearful funeral in the fucking church, never! Not with his damn ass! He’d definitely return in a form of furious spirit and punch the priest in his face before he ends that boring stuff about him going back to Heaven to hang out with angels and other stupid shit. Bloody hell, he’d probably die the second time right there just out of shame. Gladly, Wayne knows about his attitude towards religion and, most likely, that farce will never happen.
At least he felt like a real-life hero after all! Isn’t that an “American dream“? Eddie Munson, The Freak and The Banished, didn’t run away from danger for the first time in his life! Damn, Bobby Grant, who had been bullying him through middle school, would fucking flip out! Eddie would love to see him shit his pants watching these killer bats. Just the idea of it caused Eddie to laugh harshly, which made him immediately curl up in pain.
Some time ago he woke up, realizing that he was laying motionless on the hideous black ground in this another dimension. “Upside Down” as kids called it. Just recently he was dying in the weak arms of the kid, his friend with whom they were fighting the fucking army of bats, and now he could barely open his eyes with agonizing groan. He closed them again and thought that his death was much cooler than the resurrection.
Seriously, at the end after his dramatic last words he died. Completely and permanently. At least he felt like it was, like his body literally gave up. He felt numbness, some strange and unexperienced weakness in his limbs, how his heart became heavier and how a thick fog appeared in front of his sight…
…Until he went back to life with the most terrible headache ever existed and a taste of death on his tongue.
What a week, huh?
He probably would still lay here, not far from a raggedy-ass dark version of his home, half unconscious and feeling about to throw up, but, suddenly, he heard a familiar ear-splitting screech of bats. Eddie shuddered, realizing that his frozen body barely could move. It made him snort unhappily. His blurred consciousness, which was floating between a dream and reality, accepted this irony.
"And now I’ll die the second time from the same freaking bats. What a funny story to tell the Satan in hell."
But, after all, that joke wasn’t that funny. Eddie tried to get up, grunting and feeling a leaden weight upon his whole body, but he quickly realized, that his legs flatly refused to move. He looked at his torso with unfocused sight, thinking that the bats had damaged his insides and bones so badly that he was unlikely to stand up again. However even through a haze that enveloped his mind, he was puzzled to realize that all the damage that had been done was only his torn clothes. With his fingers shaking, he pulled up his shirt and tried to feel any sign of injury, but his skin was clean and untouched, though strangely pale.
"What the fuck," Eddie gulped a lump in his throat, his ears started pounding. He began to panic, touching own body again and again, body, which was ripped and teared just recently. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the…"
Suddenly the screech repeated. This caused him to get out of his state and jump on his unsteady legs. He noticed with surprise, that the panic, apparently, blocks his body weakness and makes his legs move, despite their anxious shivering. Eddie still didn’t understand what was going on, but he didn’t really want to become a brunch for these bastards. Slowly and painfully, he got into his trailer and closed the door behind. For a few seconds, he was breathing heavily, leaning his back on it, and then his eyes widened. He realized! That’s it! There is a gate in his trailer!
Eddie grinned victoriously and raised his head-
But the only thing staring back at him were black vines throbbing from the ceiling. Eddie’s heart fell down into his stomach, his eyes began to burn with horror and resentment.
"No…" His voice sounded hoarse and broken, his throat ached, like every sound scratched it with sandpaper. "No, no, no, no…"
He got away from the door and went to exactly the same place they had jumped off the other day with Dustin. Same place! He rounded his eyes looking for any sign of another dimension - his neck was getting stiff from his long gaze at the ceiling. But there was nothing. Only those crappy black vines, that made the already disgusting Upside Down atmosphere seem even more disgusting. With every second his pulse was racing, his heart was pounding violently in his chest, and eventually his ears began to ring so much that Eddie could not even hear his disturbing thoughts.
Panic overcame him again – he gritted his teeth and grabbed the chair, that fell on the floor. He put it on the place, where he just had been standing, and climbed up on it, slightly swaying. He managed to reach the ceiling and tried to knock on it – nothing happened. Eddie frowned, hit the ceiling strongly and shouted:
"Dustin?"
Nothing happened. He hit one more time.
"DUSTIN?"
His voice seemed to be addressed to a black hole – no echo, no ringing in the ears, nothing. So, there was no answer.
"DUSTIN HENDERSON, DO YOU HEAR ME?" Eddie started to beat the ceiling furiously with his fists. "THIS IS EDDIE! EDWARD MUNSON! I AM STILL FUCKING ALIVE, I AM HERE!"
Subconsciously, he already knew no one could hear him. He already knew, that this was stupid and pointless, but despair and terror seemed to have had blocked his mind’s access to common sense.
He was thinking about his trailer, about how Chrissy died, about his friends and Wayne. Everything was left there, outside this stupid dimension, where everything smelled like rot and death. Jeff would have joked that school didn’t smell any better, and Eddie would have laughed while rubbing his friend's curly hair. But he was there, in the normal world, and Eddie was here.
Munson was screaming until his hands got tired of pounding on the roof. After all, with his throat sore and his cheeks wet with tears, Eddie gave up. He climbed down from the chair and sat down on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. His whole body was limp from a sudden splash of emotions and energy.
His thoughts, like the ugly black vines of the Upside Down, began to consume him. He bit his lip - before even noticing how easily his teeth could bite to blood - and thought about home. About Dustin apparently announcing to everyone that Eddie’s dead. About how everyone’s going to be sad and move on to the future that Eddie wouldn’t have. He’s trapped, separated and dead. How will Wayne react? Eddie shuddered and frowned. How will Wayne react?
His knuckles throbbed unpleasantly, the eyes pinched terribly, the condition inside was not worth talking about. Eddie wanted to take off his bandana to wipe his face, but found it wasn’t even on his head. This forced him to cry out again from the hopelessness of his situation and to stick his forehead to his knees. Fucking bats, fucking other dimensions, fucking D&D villains, fucking...
BOOM! BOOM!
Eddie reared his head and looked warily at the door. He froze.
BOOM! BOOM!
Someone was definitely knocking. Was there a monster in Upside Down who was intelligent and polite enough to warn Eddie of his presence during his mental breakdown? Wild enough, if you ask Eddie himself. The only thing is, he had nothing to lose. Apparently, now everyone thinks he’s dead because they left him in this dump. There’s no way out of the good old Upside Down now, and the evil monsters even stole his favorite bandana. The situation is quite dire, so dying at the hands of the Polite Monster as a plan for the future didn’t sound so bad right now.
Well, that doesn’t mean he’ll give up without a fight.
Munson carefully got to his feet. His eyes began to wander around, trying to remember what three years ago could have saved him from the bandits who decided to break into his and his uncle’s trailer. Finally, Eddie took a breath and couldn’t think of anything better than taking one of Wayne’s particularly heavy cups. The nearest and most worthwhile weapon (the lamp) is trapped in a vile tentacle, and Aunt Martha is unlikely to be upset that Eddie is using her Christmas gift as a weapon of self-defense.
Armed with a heavy orange cup with a cat smiling and saying "Wish you an A-Meow-zing Christmas!" Eddie snuck up to the door.
Manson took a deep breath and raised his hand to open it.
He didn’t have his whole life before his eyes, no. And it didn’t happen last time, so Eddie decided for himself that it was just another myth that was socially accepted. However, he really couldn’t help but recall the really good moments he had experienced. Maybe there is a way out of here after all? Maybe he shouldn’t give up so early?
"It would be so dumb and wrong to die right now, honestly…"
But the door opened suddenly and he screamed. Feeling particularly brave (rather desperate) he raised his hand to beat the fuck up from this monster with a cup, not even paying attention to a loud, wheezing voice in front of him, rather than growling or grinding:
"JESUS, FUCKING, CHRIST, CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!? WHAT THE FUCK!?"
However, Eddie did not hear a single word, leaning all over the potential villain, screaming (manly) and trying to inflict as many blows as possible, which were skillfully blocked and accompanied by a lot of swearing.
"You… fuck… son of a bitch… stop it… you fucker… JUST- STOP!"
When the cup was finally beaten out of his hands and his wrists caught in the air, still trembling with the adrenaline, the sudden fury passed, Eddie was finally able to realize that he was not fighting the monster or Vecna. He blinked foolishly, staring at a perfectly human, filthy, and disgruntled face in front of him, as the "villain" pushed Eddie aside and got to his feet, muttering something under his breath. Munson realized he was staring at him with his mouth open and he must look incredibly stupid. He had barely realized that he himself had slowly risen to his feet, but had not stopped staring into the man’s face, not believing his eyes. Of course, this did not go unnoticed, and the man gave him a frown. He had a very familiar frown that he had occasionally noticed in the hallways of High School.
"What? You’re not gonna fight me with your fucking cup?"
And yet it wasn’t Eddie’s mistake or even his mind-game. The man standing before him was familiar to him, though not as first-class as he remembered him: with untidy blonde curls and cold blue eyes, all covered with mud and slime, wearing a torn Metallica t-shirt, wide rubbed pants and heavy black shoes. You can hardly forget the face of this bastard, after all, he was the honorable High School King!
"Billy fucking Hargrove?"
BILLY
Billy often wondered about his death.
It wasn’t something particularly tragic in his head, just a coincidence of certain circumstances that often changed, like the sets in a puppet show. Billy saw nothing wrong with his death, could not think of anything. Perhaps someone will miss him, but not for long. And for who? Asshole Billy Hargrove, always choosing fights? Arrogant teenager William Hargrove, who managed to get high marks in all subjects while constantly missing classes? Ungrateful Billy, the disappointment of a son, who was a disgrace to the family?
Death for Billy was more like a final chord. Of course, he was afraid of it. There’s no one who’s not afraid to die if he’s sane. Billy just pictured it as a control shot in the head, to stop the pain.
Billy got used to the pain. It was easy.
The pain was the constant of his life - it was always there, in all circumstances, constantly. It is tough for him to recall the years when this was not the case, because even those eventually began to cause him the same old pain, like an aching, rotting wound that never heals.
It started when his dad first raised his hand at his mom. No matter how hard she tried to smile at him and pretend everything was fine, Billy didn’t believe her. Although he wanted to believe until the last moment. When she told him, that things were going to get better. When she walked with him on the beach and laughed, fed him with sweet promises about the bright future that awaits them. Even when she picked up the debris from the floor and confidently swore to him that it would stop soon.
He also didn’t believe she’d ever leave him.
The pain intensified and covered up almost everything that his kind-hearted mother could put into him, an angel-like memory, weightless and imaginary. Sometimes he really thought he made it up, that she never existed, and the pictures in the old boxes that Neil pretended to throw away were just fake.
Neil Hargrove was the one who showed Billy how to deal with the pain. Billy followed in his footsteps obediently and blindly, without realizing it, furiously shouting that he was nothing like him.
And then the Mayfield’s ruined it, kindly harboring two monsters by their side. Since then, Billy’s pain has become sweet, sharp, and so familiar that he already considered it as a part of himself. At first, it was easier when Max laughed at his jokes and tried to impress him by flaunting her knowledge of driving. It was nice, even.
But it all went to hell, and Billy stood over the charred remains of a newborn family relationship. He was smiling, he was burning inside, and the pain stopped bothering him as well as anything else in his fucked up, shitty life.
Thinking about past, it was easier for Billy to let go of the present, which was jokey karma. When he closed his eyes, he could see the darkness, and when he opened them, he discovered something much worse.
Real Hell, where he belongs.
Here the pain returned again, as if he were ten years old again, and his mother kissed him goodbye. This time, he left. By taking the lives of all those innocent people.
Billy twitch every time his mind helpfully reminded him of the events that had brought him here. When he was in Hell for the first few days, the memories were cloudy and inaccurate. Later, they began to come back to him, making his hands tremble, and his tears drip through the whole damn place, while his desperate screams spread. The pitiful spectacle that he turned into, thank God, no one will ever see again. Billy was even a little happy until he felt excruciatingly alone.
And, of course, as always, all of a sudden, it’s all upside down again. There was a series of events that shattered his days, full of wandering through the abandoned Hawkins. There’s a whole fucking pile of shit that made Billy question his sanity again.
(Who is he kidding? When was the last time he was of sound mind?)
And so, stumping in the dark woods, Billy remembered himself. Running away like a fucking coward, which he always was. It was some... days or hours ago. Billy wasn’t sure. When he was asleep (or pretending to be asleep), he wasn’t counting down the time. He was still moving away from the familiar faces, still hearing echoes in his ears of voices he hadn’t heard in a long time so... clearly, really. His hands, clutching the good old axe, were trembling. He had not felt so frightened in a long time, so helpless. Jesus fucking Christ, he was fighting fucking monsters! Why was he so shaken by some...
He paused, rising from his memories. The forest around him, as usual, was dark, dark and humming. Billy found it oddly comforting, though not in the same way as a normal green forest. This infernal forest was more like a heavy blanket under which you could climb and feel strangely protected, even though you could hardly breathe.
He fetched a sigh and gritted his teeth. Billy Hargrove, who recently severed the head of his own personal jailer, ran from the pretty face of Steve Harrington and his girlfriends. What will people say?
Billy frowned, chasing away memories of warm brown eyes. He had no doubt that he... They didn’t take their little friends with them, and so he was relieved, but also selfishly disappointed.
He’d like to see Max again.
And that’s stupid, because he didn’t deserve it, and she certainly shouldn’t be risking her life running around in the most disgusting place imaginable. Especially for Billy, who was the worst older brother on earth. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, he wished it to happen, but it was stupid and presumptuous. Just before everything that brought him here, their relationship got a little warmer. Just a little bit, but it was enough to make Billy from the past presumptuously believe it might be the beginning of their truce.
Billy in the present clutched the axe harder. He didn’t have time to think - he had his patrol planned.
Patrol is the usual thing he does every day (or about every day, given that no fucking clock in this shit-hole works). It usually didn’t take him very long if he was lucky. He had checkpoints that made it easier for him to navigate. High school, hospital, police station, cemetery, couple of houses with particularly memorable facades, etcetera. Billy memorized them by heart.
Since he accidentally heard Max and Susan in the trailer park, he mentally added another checkpoint to it.
Billy walked slowly out of the woods to the Byers' house, making it easier for him to chart his future route. The idea that he had something to do was calming him. He hated sitting on his ass, terrible thoughts were coming to his mind, his fingers were itching, he had an involuntary urge to bite all his nails to numb that unpleasant feeling.
Today was a particularly stressful day... or maybe even a few. Hargrove wasn’t sure how many hours he’d been sleeping trying to get rid of disturbing thoughts. Billy did not want to hurry, stepping slowly through the empty, gray streets, trying to catch the slightest noise. He tried to get the faces and voices out of his head - it doesn’t matter, it’s over. Billy hoped that the same way they got into this fucking hole, they would get out of it too. It’s not like he should be worrying about them, he’s been lying to himself.
If they got here, it means something could have gone up. If something went up, that means Billy has to deal with it. This is the more familiar part - Billy Hargrove cleaning up the shit after the others. Just like his precious father taught him.
Billy sighed again and licked his dry lips - a habit which couldn’t be beaten out of him even after all the gigantic shit his life had thrown at him. As he headed towards the trailer park, he could not suppress the chills that ran down his back.
The bats were acting very strange today. Usually, they would cluster and attack in packs, making disgusting noises like all nightmares at once. Today, however, they were surprisingly peaceful, flying solo. Billy wouldn’t have paid any attention if he hadn’t avoided them for months, passing every possible route over.
Oddly enough, they even looked... peaceful. Billy tried to take a swing at one of the monsters and received only a familiar squeal, which made him wince and retreat. The bat didn’t even try to attack him and flew towards the forest.
How strange.
Billy decided not to dwell on it and went on. With each step he became more and more tense, as the number of bats in the direction of the trailer park increased. Hargrove tried to put aside the most negative thoughts and strode steadily forward.
As he was near, he heard the distinct sound of blows, muted but loud enough. They were accompanied by the same muffled screams, and Billy quickly realized that the sounds were coming from one of the trailers. The voice went quiet when Billy got close, but he was sure what he heard.
That was human screaming.
Billy swallowed a lump in his throat and walked cautiously up to the trailer, which, like everything else, looked disgusting. However, Hargrove sincerely hoped that there was a fucking Jailer waiting for him inside, determined to rise from the dead and put on his own fucking comedy show to torture Billy’s mind.
Because apparently, he hadn’t played with him enough last time.
Billy would have liked to put the axe back in his disgusting body, if you think about it.
He knocked twice, but decided not to speak if he was right. If it’s the enemy, it’s worth not exposing oneself to make the attack more sudden. Billy was tense.
Nothing happened.
He frowned and knocked twice again, not eager to take the first step. Danger in Hell circled everywhere, even in the air, and Billy learned it too well. Inside him everything screamed to be on his guard. It’s been a long time since he really feared anything, he only felt the tension and apprehension that now prevented him from taking the first step.
But apparently, whoever was in there was a prude. Hargrove realized that if he wanted answers, he had to take the initiative, which was riskier, but faster. So, Billy rolled his eyes, grabbed the axe with his left hand, and opened the door
Someone took a swing at him – is that a fucking cup? – while yelling with such force that the bats nearby could easily take a vacation and fly to Hawaii. When he was sure to see a man in front of him, Billy immediately dropped the axe and screamed at him in shock:
"JESUS, FUCKING, CHRIST, CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!? WHAT THE FUCK!?"
At the same moment, the "enemy’s" body was all over him, still screaming loudly and waving this ridiculous weapon. Billy rounded his eyes and fell to the ground, panicking, trying either to see or to calm his attacker, while blocking the series of badly learned blows. It was starting to get really annoying, so instead of cursing and trying to calm the idiot down, Billy growled and knocked the orange cup out of his hands. He then quickly immobilized his crazy twitching hands and squeezed them, still fearing another attempt to attack him. The man, at that moment, was in a state of shock, which Billy took advantage of, pushing away his attacker not too gently. He prayed that this loud spectacle would not attract the attention of the monsters.
When Billy got back to his feet, he finally got a proper look at the man in front of him. His face was a bit familiar, though distorted by shock, panic, and horror. Billy looked at the boy calmly, noticing the poor state of his clothes. However, what made his eyes narrow, and the tension to the maximum was his... appearance.
Unhealthy pale skin - that’s okay, the dude was from Hawkins after all, but fucking pointy ears? Sharp teeth that were visible even from the safe distance Billy kept between them?
What the hell is that?
If this is a Halloween costume, Billy was genuinely impressed. But as he doubted that it was Halloween time in the real world, he was at a loss. But of course he couldn’t stop himself from making an unenthusiastic comment:
"What? You’re not gonna fight me with your fucking cup?"
It seems that after that the strange fairy boy recovered from shock. His expression was comically distorted, running from one emotion to another. On a different day, Billy would have laughed at it, but he was too tired lately, sullen, and full of thoughts about death to even mention the amazing skills of this idiot’s face muscles.
"Billy fucking Hargrove? "
Billy blinked slowly.
"So what?"