#Erica Sinclair fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hitlikehammers · 3 months

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just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

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moonchildreads · 4 months

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small town

Chapter 24 - Up Where We Belong

IN THIS CHAPTER: Graduation gowns, strawberry milkshakes, and Wayne asks a question [9.9k]

WARNINGS: dealing with grief (nancy, dottie, eddie to a less extent), writer not knowing how graduations are in the us

A/N: happy new year!!!! i hope everyone is having a wonderful start of 2024, here's your belated christmas gift from yours truly. if you read this and think "that's not how that works", then i don't know what to tell you bestie but i tried. i watched a TON of graduation ceremonies on youtube and i pulled heavily from those, aside from borrowing things from my own not-american graduation. i hope you enjoy it anyways! (and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!) <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

All we have is here and now All our life, out there to find

Friday, June 13th - 1986

Wayne Munson had walked the halls of Hawkins High School several times throughout recent years courtesy of his nephew’s misbehaving, but never making it past Principal Higgins’ office was turning out to be a problem. Resigned, he stomped on his cigarette gently before following a family that looked like they knew where they were going, regretting not taking up Eddie’s offer to escort him inside before he disappeared in search of his friends and fellow graduates. Graduation. Ain’t that a funny thing to think about, Wayne mused. The auditorium, he noted as he finally found it, was decorated in bright orange and calming forest green, a Class of 1986 paper banner hanging from the dark curtain that was doing its job as an unassuming background at the very back of the room. On the stage, there was a regal-looking wooden lectern, and a small table with stacked up rolls of paper tied with orange and green ribbons; next to it, a bunch of black chairs where teachers would probably be sitting during the event had been carefully lined up into a single row.

Excitement filled the air. It was in the murmurs of the people taking their seats, skimming their programs to proudly find the names of their kids printed on the semi-matte paper. It was in the way the school’s faculty could not stand still, barely having time to say hello to everyone walking in before they were off to check yet another little detail so everything could go as smoothly as possible. Wayne walked down the central aisle trying to find a good spot to sit in while feeling a bead of sweat go down his back. The last time he’d worn a suit, any suit, had been to his mother’s funeral eight years before; in fact, he still only owned that one suit. The temperature in Hawkins was steadily rising as June turned into July, and Wayne felt incredibly stuffy in his clothes but he didn’t dare wear anything less for such a special day. Eddie had defied all odds and was now a High School Graduate, the first Munson to walk to stage in three generations. Truth be told, his Uncle was willing to bet that he was actually the first one to do so in their entire family history, and thus, Wayne wore the suit, and the shirt, and the tie, and searched for a seat near the front to witness his nephew doing the exact opposite of what the whole town had always expected him to do: succeed.

Bianca, Donny’s mom, was fussing over her youngest grandson, Francesco, when she saw Wayne looking a little lost in the crowd and waved at him to wordlessly invite him to sit with them. The eldest Munson approached them with a smile, settling himself on the row behind the Vitale family who was so very busy trying to keep little Francesco and his (barely) older cousin Marco from running down the aisles and bothering other families.

“Good to see y’all made it,” Wayne commented, shaking Donny’s dad Angelo’s hand before turning to Vittoria, Donny’s heavily pregnant older sister. “Though I coulda sworn I heard you were on bed rest, missy.”

“I am, but what my doctor doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she laughed, hand resting over her swollen belly. “This little lady hasn’t stopped kicking me all day, I think she’s more excited than I am to finally be outside the house!”

“It’s a special day, I’m sure the doctor won’t mind too much as long as we take it slow,” her husband said, kissing the side of her head. “Say hi to Mr. Munson, Marco.”

“Hi!” the little boy said, standing between his parents’ seats. “Whose Grandpa are you?”

“Marco!” his dad exclaimed, but Wayne laughed loudly.

“That’s not a grandpa, you dummy! That’s Eddie’s dad,” said Francesco, before grabbing his cousin’s hand and leading him towards Nonna Giulia down the row in search of the candy she always kept in her purse.

“I’m sorry,” Vittoria said with an apologetic smile. “They read this picture book about families at pre-school and now he thinks all men with white hair are grandpas.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I know I’m not gettin’ any younger,” Wayne joked, his eyes straying to the side of the auditorium where the seniors were finally getting ushered into formation.

The Vitale family craned their necks to see their boy, and Wayne in turn searched for his: Eddie was standing near Jeff towards the middle of the line, the two of them engaged in conversation as they waited for everyone to get into their respective places. It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to what his friend was saying; he was clearly answering back and keeping the chat going, but it seemed to his Uncle that he was searching for someone in the crowd, eyes scanning rows of unknown family members for a face he hadn’t yet found. Wayne was about to lift his hand to let him know where he was sitting, but it soon became apparent that Eddie hadn’t been looking for him - he had been looking for the short haired girl who had just ran into the auditorium with a panicked look on her face and an askew cap on her head.

Dottie hurried over to where her classmates were standing, enveloping a curly haired girl Wayne wasn’t familiar with at the very back of the line in an enthusiastic hug before doing the same with Donny. Wayne saw with an amused smile how Eddie waited patiently for his turn while she hugged Jeff, and how all his anxiety looked like it was melting away as he embraced her, eyes closed and face buried in her hair. After saying their hellos, Dottie kept walking to the front of the line where she greeted a strawberry blonde girl with excited hops and shared an equally loving hug with both her and Gareth. Her dad watched her with a fond smile from his place near the doors, a program held tightly in his hands. Taking pity on the poor man who Wayne knew was attending the event alone much like he was, he motioned for James to join their mismatched group who gladly took the offer, walking briskly towards the still empty seat next to Eddie’s uncle. James greeted Donny’s family before getting comfortable on his wooden chair and let a long breath out. Finally.

“Long morning?” Wayne asked, knowingly.

“Be grateful you don’t have a teenage girl in your house, Wayne. It was near impossible to get here on time,” James scoffed.

“Can’t be worse than Ed’s allergy to his damn alarm clock. It went off for a whole 15 minutes before he got up today.”

“Did it wake you up?”

“Nah. Was already up reading the paper but I wasn’t about to turn it off for him. He just rolls over and keeps sleeping if I do,” he said, and James shook his head with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Teenagers, right?”

“Yup. Teenagers.”

Over the few short months Wayne and James had known each other, they had learned to appreciate the quiet but hard work the other did for their respective kid. It wasn’t easy to be a single father, and even though Wayne wasn’t Eddie’s biological dad, there was no doubt in James’ mind that he fulfilled that role wonderfully in the boy’s life and heart. The Munsons and the Burkes had gone through a lot over the years, that much was undeniable, but on that hot Friday morning both fathers could be proud that their kids had made it to the other side relatively unharmed, all the while somehow finding each other to rely on along the way. If Dottie and Eddie were going to be inseparable all summer as they had been since the day they met, it was only fair James and Wayne got to compare notes on parenting and commiserate over the little annoying things they’d miss once the kids had left the comforting safety of their family homes.

Before they could continue their talk however, teachers began herding the seniors into a neat single file and getting into their places on the stage, Principal Higgins taking his spot behind the lectern. Excitement amplified as the crowd hushed - only suppressed coughs and a few little children’s voices could be heard in the quiet room. Wayne saw Higgins approach the mic and took a deep breath letting the pride he’d been feeling all morning take over him. The heat of the almost-here summer was forgotten outside in the parking lot, along with his smushed cigarette butt and the heavy weight he’d been carrying since a CPS agent left a scared 8-year-old Eddie on his doorstep all those years ago.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Hawkins High School Principal Thomas Higgins,” the man began, voice booming across the room with the aid of loudspeakers; Dorothy peered at him over the shoulder of the taller girl standing in front of her. “On behalf of the faculty, staff, and administration of Hawkins High, we’d like to welcome family and friends, and most importantly, to our seniors to the Commencement Exercises of the Graduating Class of 1986.”

Higgins paused for effect and the crowd followed his cue by breaking into happy applause - the aforementioned seniors gleefully waved to the few family members they could find within the sea of heads straining to look at them. The Class of ‘86 stood patiently to the side towards the back of the auditorium, waiting to be called into the main aisle where their names would be announced one by one and they’d go up the stage, accept their diploma, and go back downstairs to the rows of chairs at the front left that had been reserved for them. The full graduating class was small, no more than 40 students, and Dottie wondered how different things would have been for her if she were graduating with her New York classmates in a year that comprised around 400 kids instead of doing it in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Please, rise from your seats and join us in singing the National Anthem, followed by the Hawkins High School Spirit Song,” Higgins announced, and the sound of creaking wooden chairs filled the air as everyone followed his request.

Dottie sang along to the National Anthem without thinking too much about it, but when the first notes of the Hawkins High school song came through the speakers, she realized she had no idea what the lyrics were. No one had told her they’d be singing it during their only rehearsal, and certainly no one had spared a moment to teach it to her in the last six months. She wasn’t even sure she knew a spirit song even existed before that very moment. Eyes surveying over the crowd of family members, she saw that most if not all were singing along - the only ones not joining in were probably those who hadn’t attended Hawkins High and lived in a different town, perhaps even in a different state altogether. Heat rising up her chest under her dark green gown, she turned her head to the front, feeling very much like an outsider amongst her peers for the first time in months. Bryan Butler right behind her sang louder as the song was ending and she tried to not call attention to herself to let him take the spotlight. Once the music stopped, Principal Higgins neared the lectern to continue his speech.

“Thank you, you may be seated now,” Higgins said, and the wooden creaking resumed for a second as everyone sat back down to watch the rest of the ceremony. “The Hawkins High School Class of 1986 has experienced many memorable moments over the last four years, and Hawkins is proud of how these young graduates have worked and persevered through hard times to get to this day. We as faculty could not be prouder or more thrilled to celebrate with them, and we look forward to sending them off onto the next chapter in their lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and other family members, we are honored to have you here today as our guests to celebrate our graduates and we thank you for your support. Please clap along as the Class of 1986 proceeds to their places.”

The speakers began playing Pomp and Circumstance March No.1 in D and the crowd broke into fervent applause once more, Michael Allen leading the way for his fellow seniors to stand in the central aisle right below the middle set of stairs where they’d wait to be called to the stage. As they fell into their designated spots, Dottie finally recognized who had been assigned to stand right in front of her; it was Robin Buckley, the shy band nerd she had met at Family Video a few weeks earlier and briefly bonded with over their shared love of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She was wearing white Converse sneakers with little drawings in blue and black ink, and the edges of her black rolled up jeans could be seen poking below her gown. She’s so cool, Dottie thought, not knowing that Robin was desperately trying not to scan the audience lest her nerves paralyzed her. Not even painting her nails bright orange had saved them from being chewed on this time around.

“Hawkins High School’s Class of 1986 was given the opportunity to choose a member of our staff to read their names as they cross the stage today,” Principal Higgins explained as three people already on stage stood from their seats. “I am honored to announce that this year, our Assistant Principal Mrs. Elaine Chandler will present the diplomas to our newest graduates. Mrs. Suzanne O’Donnell, Mr. Leopold Hauser, and myself will present them with their diploma cover, graduation medallions, and honor cords if applicable. Elaine?” he motioned for her to switch places with him.

“Thank you, Principal Higgins,” said Assistant Principal Elaine Chandler, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she looked down the list of names in front of her. “Allen, Michael,” she called first from behind the lectern, and the crowd clapped as Michael went up to her and received a hug and a rolled up certificate before moving down the stage towards the other teachers to shake their hands.

Dottie’s palms began sweating as more names kept being called and her time as a Hawkins High student slowly came to an end. Even though she had felt very much like an intruder looking in through a window during her first few months in the town, she had to admit that was happy here now - certainly much more happier than she’d ever been back in New York. Here all the teachers knew her name without having to read it from a file. Here she had a group of friends she’d go to literal Hell and back for, and she had a boyfriend who loved her the way she’d always thought love should be: easy and gentle. Here she had attended the best prom of her life, and her face would be permanently attached to a club that had given her the safety she’d never gotten anywhere else to finally, truthfully, be herself. Here Dottie had been at home.

While Barnes, Kathleen was getting her extracurricular honor cords for being part of the cheerleading team, Mrs. Chandler called upon Buckley, Robin and Dottie suddenly found herself at the front of the line. Robin climbed the steps with as much grace as she could muster while being pretty much mortified, and Mrs. Chandler soothed her with friendly pats on her back before presenting her with her diploma. The tall girl accepted it with shaky hands, her rings glinting under the stage lights, when a loud cheer rang above the polite applause of the crowd. Robin laughed, half embarrassed and half grateful, and when Dottie turned to see where the sounds were coming from, she found not only Dustin and Erica hooting and hollering besides a couple who were clearly Robin’s parents, but also that Steve guy that worked at Family Video with her, the one that Robin had described as her strictly platonic best friend with a capital P. It looked like retail did bond you forever after all.

Mr. and Mrs. Buckley looked between confused and amused as Steve pinched his bottom lip and let out a loud whistle - a chortle escaped Robin’s mouth while a cheerful Mr. Hauser, who had been her favorite teacher all four years of high school, put her graduation medallion around her neck, nerves all but forgotten before she skipped her way down to Mrs. O’Donnell to receive her extracurricular honor cords for being in band. Huh, that’s curious, Dottie thought distractedly. Didn’t know Dustin and Erica were such good friends with her and Steve. I wonder how they met.

“Burke, Dorothy,” called Mrs. Chandler through the speakers, jostling Dottie out of her musings.

This was it. The moment of truth. Dottie climbed the stairs and accepted a hug from Mrs. Chandler, hearing her friends cheering for her loudly in the background when her damp fingers came into contact with her diploma. She glanced at the crowd and time seemed to stop when her eyes found her Dad, a proud smile on his face and his program tucked under his armpit so he could clap loudly for his daughter. She waved at him and Wayne, who had also stood up to cheer for her, and time resumed after a blinding flash went off and she was whisked along to where the rest of the teachers were standing. She shook hands with both Principal Higgins and Mr. Hauser even though she hardly knew both men, and accepted her diploma cover and her graduation medallion before turning towards Mrs. O’Donnell. She was about to hug her teacher when the old woman presented her with her own honor cords, entwined green and orange ending in delicate tassels dangling from her manicured hands.

“That’s not- I’m not-” Dottie began.

“You have one of the highest GPAs in your year, besides being involved in two extracurriculars. Congratulations, Miss Burke. You’ve earned this,” O’Donnell said, and it was perhaps the only time in the whole semester Dottie had seen her genuinely smile.

“T-thank you,” she managed to get out, letting the woman drape the cords on her shoulders and rushing to her seat before she began bawling on stage.

“Hey, congrats!” Robin whispered once they were both seated next to each other, shaking her own cords lightly. The ceremony continued with no regards to their little chat.

“You too! Didn’t know I had qualified for any of this, I think everyone saw me have an aneurism up there.”

“Nah, everyone’s too nervous about not tripping down the stairs on their way back, don’t worry about it.”

“Coleman, Gareth,” Mrs. Chandler announced, grabbing Dottie’s attention.

Carver, Jason hadn’t even reached the sidestage stairs to go down after accepting his diploma when Gareth, in his haste to get everything over with, tried to climb two steps at a time and got his feet tangled in his dark green gown. Cunningham, Chrissy, who was right behind him, quickly caught his arm before he could lose balance and hit the floor. He quietly thanked her with red cheeks and embarrassed eyes before he finally went up the stairs, one step at a time. Chrissy went back to the front of the line while other classmates around Dottie and Robin snickered at the little mishap; Gareth accepted his diploma and other paraphernalia, and got the hell off the stage as quickly as humanly possible.

“Thank God that wasn’t me,” Robin muttered, and Dottie grimaced in agreement.

Gareth ended up awkwardly sitting between Jason and Chrissy, but much to his relief, they had all been assigned to the row behind Dottie. Taking advantage of the proximity, he leaned forward to talk to his friend as the ceremony progressed and Chrissy quickly joined, stopping to give Dottie a kiss on her cheek from her seat behind her as a second greeting. Jason watched the scene unfold and asked himself when had his girlfriend started hanging out with people he didn’t know. He thought he knew everything about Chrissy - when had that changed and to what extent? Selfishly, he couldn’t help but think about what the future would look like for them when they left for college. Chrissy was headed to OSU and he would be at Indiana State, almost four hours and more than 250 miles between them. Would this be their last summer together? He didn’t like to entertain that thought.

Davis, Monica, Foster, Kyle, and Hanson, Randall were some of the names they didn’t pay much attention to until Humphrey, Andrew was called to the stage. Jason distracted himself from his anxiety over his relationship possibly having an expiration date by clapping loudly for his best friend. Dottie and Gareth shared a mischievous look: Andy wasn’t wearing any bandages on his nose anymore, but the dark purple shadow under his eye was still very visible with the bright stage lights illuminating his face. After him came Hurley, Marcie, one of Dot’s colleagues from the newspaper club, and Kemper, Lucy, the girl who had sold almost everyone their prom tickets. Morgan, Theresa was on stage when Dottie realized she knew almost all the people in her graduating class by name now, even if they had never spoken to one another before. In New York, she’d never known the names of all the people within a single class, not since elementary school at least. She wondered if they remembered her, but then decided she didn’t care that the answer was probably a resounding no.

When Munson, Edward was called to the stage, Dottie and Gareth stood up to make as much noise as possible, both infinitely proud of the long haired boy with the charming eyes who was accepting the one piece of paper that had seemed so elusive all this time. Dustin and Erica hollered at him, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, still in line waiting to accept their diplomas, joined them in their antics. When Principal Higgins went in for a handshake, Eddie pulled him into a hug; the older man laughed and let it happen, a sort of fondness for the metalhead’s unwavering resilience present in their interaction. He accepted his medallion and his own honor cords for being the Chapter Leader of a student organization, and just before he climbed off, he approached the edge of the stage with a dazzling grin.

“Here it comes,” Dottie muttered, anticipating her boyfriend to give the middle finger to the entire town and bolt as he had declared he’d do on multiple occasions.

What Eddie did instead was find his Uncle in the crowd and bow deeply in his direction as people clapped for him like it was the end of a play. Wayne pretended to not be choking back tears as his nephew got off the stage, lips pursed behind his fingers trying to hide the grin threatening to break out on his face.

“Coward,” Gareth said, and Chrissy hit him in the shoulder.

There was no time for Eddie to do anything more but find his seat, because immediately after him came Patton, Jeffrey, and exactly ten names later, came Vitale, Donatello. The teachers laughed and cooed at his excited nephews jumping up and down the aisle, cheering for his favorite Uncle. One day in the not so distant future, they’d probably be handing them their diplomas too. Just how many faces in the crowd had walked through these same halls, attended the same classes, and some of them even had the same teachers as the Class of ‘86? A much younger and recently married O’Donnell, a Higgins as a History teacher prior to his Principal days, a Kaminski after his eldest son had just been born. Never before had the kids in the Hellfire Club felt as much part of the Hawkins High community as they did now - it almost felt unfair that they had to permanently leave the place to finally feel that way.

“And last, but certainly not least,” said Mrs. Chandler when there was only one person left to climb up the stage. “-Wheeler, Nancy, the valedictorian for the Class of 1986 who will say a few words for us and her fellow graduates after receiving her diploma.”

The crowd broke once again in loud applause as a red cheeked Nancy in her dark green gown and bright orange valedictorian stole greeted all her teachers with a few flashcards containing her speech in her hand. Karen Wheeler looked at her daughter with shiny eyes, infinitely proud of her little girl that’d grown into a smart, capable woman right in front of her. In a few months she’d be far away, following her dreams, and taking a piece of her mother’s hopes with her as she did so, but none of her fears. Holly raised her arms, silently asking to be lifted up so she could see better, and Karen picked up her youngest daughter, pointing at her big sister in the distance so she could wave at her. Nancy took her place behind the lectern and looked at the audience, a carefully put together mask over bittersweet eyes that Dottie had almost become used to seeing on her friend. If she stared into a mirror too deeply, she could recognize the dents in her skin of her own mask, now laying shattered at her feet.

“Honorable guests, Principal Higgins, Hawkins High School faculty, academic and supporting staff, friends, families, and graduates - good morning,” Nancy began, voice soft but pleasantly clear. “It is with great pride that I stand here before you on such a special occasion to deliver this speech, which I promise I’ll try to keep short and sweet,” she lightheartedly smiled at her audience before she grew solemn once more. “However, before I start, I would like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence to commemorate the students and family members who could not be here today with us, and to remember the victims of the Starcourt Mall Fire on July 4th, 1985.”

Not a sound could be heard for a few heartbeats, and Dottie watched the faces of the town she’d come to love morph from amused to weary. There was real mourning here, a deep gash left open in a community that couldn’t heal properly because some wounds were just too deep to scab over. Eddie had told her everything he knew about what had happened, the official story everyone that hadn’t been involved in the tragedy repeated when asked, and her heart constricted when she saw Dustin and Erica in their seats with their heads down. They looked downright haunted. Steve sat next to them, watching over them with such turmoil in his eyes that Dottie had to wonder if there was something they were all missing about what happened. Had Steve also been in the mall with them? Had Robin, who was quietly sitting next to her like she was reliving a horror movie behind her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly tangling and untangling themselves in her honor cords?

Karen, sitting next to her unaware husband and emotionally closed off son, took a few deep breaths to keep her tears at bay and gently kissed Holly’s head before shifting her baby on her lap to hold her against her chest more tightly, like someone could snatch her off her arms at any given moment. Dottie twisted her mom’s engagement ring on her left middle finger and bit the inside of her cheek while blinking away the wetness gathering on her lash line. Not now, she scolded herself. Later.

“Thank you,” Nancy said, breaking the silence and moving onto her next flashcard. “Four years ago, we arrived at Hawkins High as children, and we are now leaving as young adults with our whole lives ahead of us. Some will go on to college, others will enter the workforce, but all of us will take the lessons learned here and let them guide us to become who we were always meant to be,” she turned to look to her side. “I'd like to thank our teachers for sharing their knowledge with us, for being patient and pushing us to achieve great things. With their help, our Hawkins High Mathletes reached their first ever state finals and brought home the silver medal earlier this year.”

There was a loud cheer coming from somewhere in the auditorium that sounded very much like Rick Stewart, exiting Captain of the Hawkins High Mathletes. Some people laughed goodnaturedly and joined in, the teachers clapping proudly at their labor being recognized. Nancy smiled and continued, knowing the applause would only get louder as she read the next part of her speech.

“I'd like to thank our coaches and counselors for making school more than just homework. You taught us about discipline, teamwork, and integrity, which led our basketball team to win the 1A North Central Conference Championship for the first time in 22 years,” the applause that followed was deafening, and it took several minutes for it to die down before Nancy could keep going. “I'd like to thank our families for supporting us in more ways that we could ever count, for chaperoning our dances and field trips, cheering for us at our sporting events, and attending all our plays with so much love and commitment, that our Drama Club was able to extend their winter run of West Side Story with a packed audience every night until their closure.”

The cheers this time were much more subdued, yet polite and sustained enough to not be embarrassing to the Drama Club members and their families in the audience. It was clear, however, where the town’s loyalties stood: Indiana’s love for basketball was known throughout the country, and Hawkins wasn’t the exception to the rule. Nancy looked at her graduating class and grabbed the last two flashcards in her pile.

“No one achieves success alone, and we are truly grateful for the help and guidance we’ve received during our years as Hawkins Tigers. However, if my classmates indulge me for a second, I’d like to ask each of you to think about a moment where you felt proud of yourself. Think about the things you’ve accomplished here, and the challenges you’ve overcome. A great woman by the name of Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote, you gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do. Our time as Hawkins High School students has come to an end. We did it, Class of ‘86. We did the thing we thought we couldn’t do, and we’ve learned that we can take the next thing that comes along, so keep moving forward. I’m proud of you, and I hope you are too. Thank you, and congratulations to us all.”

Dottie followed Nancy with her eyes as she shook Principal Higgins’ hand once more and left the stage towards her seat. Her hands were shaking lightly, and her lips were pursed, but she almost looked lighter, like she’d left significant weight behind that had nothing to do with public speaking related nerves. Nancy’s speech had been beautiful, there were no doubts about that, but it was strange to think about someone like her looking at her high school years as something that had been horrific to live through. She was popular enough to not have been bullied, pretty enough to have been desired and looked up to, smart and well-off enough to never have to worry about not fitting in.

High school was certainly hard for almost everyone, but the way Nancy had spoken about it left a familiar bitter taste in Dottie’s mouth. If Eddie had been right when retelling her the town’s recent strange happenings, Nancy had probably been thinking about her friend Barb when writing her speech. She would have most likely graduated alongside her, maybe she’d be headed to a nearby college where the two girls could still see each other often, or to a completely different one across the country and they’d have to call every weekend with updates on their new lives. Holland, Barbara should have been called up to the stage between Hall, Suzanne and Humphrey, Andrew, but now she was just another name added to the always-growing list of people who ought to have been there, but ultimately couldn’t be.

“Thank you for that inspiring speech, Miss Wheeler,” said Principal Higgins, returning to his place behind the lectern to close out the ceremony. “Graduating is an amazing achievement for these students, and we here at Hawkins High are excited to see the things they’ll accomplish in the future. By the authority vested in me by the Governor of the State of Indiana, Mr. Robert D. Orr, I confer the appropriate diplomas for the Class of 1986. Graduates, please move your tassels to the left,” he smiled at his now former students. “Congratulations Tigers, you can now throw your hats!”

As they had been instructed during rehearsals, they threw their hats directly above them, not wanting to lose them on the way down before they could take pictures with them but in the excitement and elation of the graduates, some caps ended up on the floor, prompting kids to search for the lost items under their chairs while their classmates cheered above them and congratulated one another. Dottie hugged Robin again while Principal Higgins said his goodbyes through the loudspeaker without anyone really hearing him, families eager to leave the auditorium and get into their cars quickly to avoid the inevitable bottleneck at the entrance of the parking lot.

“Thank you all for coming and being part of this special moment,” Higgins said, voice ringing above the loud chatter and scraping of chairs. “Please drive safe and have a good weekend!”

“Dad!” Dottie called upon seeing James talking to Gareth’s family near their cars. He waved at her in acknowledgment and she turned to her friend to say her goodbyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I have my new schedule down, okay? We can go to the movies some day!”

“I’m gonna go see family up North next week, but I’ll call you when I get back,” Chrissy said, arm still tangled with hers. “We have to go see the new Karate Kid coming out soon, Ralph Macchio is so cute.”

“I’m not even gonna correct you on that because I do wanna see it with you, but just know I think you’re crazy,” the brunette said, laughing at her friend.

“Well, excuse me, bad boys aren’t everyone’s type,” the blonde retorted, a secretive grin gracing her fairy-like features before she pulled her into a goodbye hug. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“We’ll see each other soon! You go have a great trip, forget about this boring town for a while.”

After the girls said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Dottie watched Chrissy greet her family with curious eyes. She didn’t know much about the Cunninghams and was surprised to see that her newest and most unlikely friend had a little brother she had never mentioned before. He must have not been the right age to be in high school yet or he’d probably be under Jason’s overprotective wing, especially if he was athletic like his big sister.

Chrissy might have looked small and dainty, but there was a certain fierceness cheerleaders had in their step - their aura had been painstakingly trained to command a room and demand attention. And yet, Dottie noticed that as Chrissy turned from her unassuming Dad to her elegant Mother, the brightness she radiated seemed to dim ever so slightly, even if her charming smile stayed in place.

“There you are! I was looking for you everywhere,” James exclaimed, her thoughts instantly lost to the wind. “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Dottie melted into his hug, knocking her cap even more askew with his shoulder. “They gave me honor cords, did you see? I didn’t know I had earned them!”

“I’m seeing them now! You worked so hard, good job.”

“Congratulations, sweetie!” Lydia, Gareth’s mom, said, pulling her into a hug. “Have you met Gretchen yet? Gare’s big sister?”

“Hey, congrats,” Gretchen said with a polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Gretchen said, eyes sparkling with mischief as she saw Gareth approach with two more kids toddling behind him. “I’m always really curious to meet any girl who would even talk to my brother in the first place, but you seem normal enough.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Gareth said, and Erica snickered.

“Honestly, he’s lucky we’re nice to him,” the middle-grader joined in, making Gareth groan in annoyance.

“You’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Congrats, Dot!” Dustin said, hugging the older girl from her right side, prompting Erica to cuddle up to her on the left. “We’re super proud of you.”

“Aw, Dus,” she pouted, leaning her head on his. He really was like the little brother she’d always wanted and never had. “Thank you, you’re so sweet. I’m happy you two could be here!”

“It was fun! We enjoyed it.”

“I saw you guys with that Steve guy earlier, did you come with him?”

“You know Steve?” Dustin said, curious.

“Yeah, he works at Family Video with Robin!” Dottie said.

“You know Robin?” it was Erica’s turn to ask.

“Uh, yeah, we’re classmates? She was sitting next to me throughout the ceremony- wait, how do you know them? What am I missing here?”

“Nothing! Steve’s, uh- Steve’s our babysitter!” Dustin hurried to say. “Did you know he used to date Nancy a while ago? That’s how we met, through Nancy. And we know Robin through Steve. Hawkins is a very small place.”

“W-what? Nancy and…”

“Yeah, she dumped him in front of everyone at a party and he’s been all mopey and sad since then,” Erica said, prompting Dustin to elbow her. “What? Just the facts!”

“Uh…,” Dottie looked at Gareth, dumbfounded.

“Anyway,” Dustin continued, aware that multiple eyes were on him. “He’s our babysitter.”

“Dustin, you’re fifteen,” Gareth laughed. “You’re a little old to still have a babysitter.”

“My Mom’s protective of me, okay? I’m an only child.”

“And he’s a good babysitter?” Dottie asked, amused.

“The best. Steve’s… yeah, Steve’s great. More like an older brother figure than a babysitter,” Dustin smiled, clearly fond of the older boy. “You should hang out with him, I think you’d like each other.”

“Stop. Just stop,” said Erica, knowing where Dustin was headed.

“What?” he shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Alright, let’s take some pictures!” said Lydia, not having paid any attention to the kids’ conversation.

While they were in the middle of taking photos, the remaining Hellfire Class of ‘86 joined the group with their respective families. Eddie snuck up behind Dottie while she was distracted taking a picture with Jeff and picked her up, arms encircling her middle and spinning her around while she giggled unabashedly, hands coming to rest on his forearms when he put her down but didn’t let go. Wayne had to hide a chuckle while he talked to the other parents; his nephew really wasn’t as smooth and mysterious as he thought he was, and Wayne had been around the sun too many times to not recognize what he was seeing between Eddie and his little lady friend. Gretchen, in turn, looked at Donny and lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“What have I missed?” she quietly said, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips. She’d always liked Donny the best out of all his brother’s friends, and was aware that as much of a good confidant as he was, he never shied away from gossip.

“He said he wanted to wait until after graduation to ask her out so I don’t think anything has happened yet,” Donny muttered back, crossing his arms and leaning closer to her friend’s big sister. “They’re totally gone for each other, though.”

“You don’t say,” Gretchen said and turned to Erica who looked very interested in their conversation. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s too chicken to ask her out,” Erica laughed. “But they have been looking really cozy lately. That’s suspicious.”

“Eddie knows she’s into him,” Donny said, making Erica’s eyes widen. “Forgot to tell you about that.”

“You bastard, I thought we had a good thing going and you’re withholding information from me? Nuh-uh, this is betrayal. I want reparations.”

“Oh, she’s feisty,” Gretchen said.

“Come to the restaurant this weekend, I’ll give you ice cream and we can catch up and compare notes,” Donny offered, genuinely interested in keeping his friendship with the fiery younger girl intact. “But it has to be this weekend, Dot starts working with us on Monday.”

“How big is that ice cream?”

“Big as you want.”

“Deal,” she put out her hand for them to shake on it, but it was merely a formality - Donatello Vitale had no intentions of ever crossing the one and only Erica Sinclair again.

As families began saying their goodbyes and heading to their cars, it soon became clear that Eddie and Dottie did not want the festivities to end so fast. They’d already taken multiple photos with everyone and with each other, waved Dustin and Erica off as they climbed into Steve’s red BMW, and even said hello to the Wheelers, but they would just not leave each other’s side, always fluttering around one another no matter what was happening. If James thought anything strange about it, he didn’t mention it, but as Wayne looked at his nephew’s beaming smile, he realized he didn’t have the heart to cut his happiness short when there was such an easy solution to their problem.

“You two have any plans for lunch?” Wayne asked James, finishing up another smoke.

“Not really, no. I was thinking of picking up some burgers to celebrate. Why? You have any suggestions?”

“Well, me an’ Eddie like to go to the diner down on Randolph on special occasions. Thought you might want to join us,” he smiled at the kids who were now both staring at him expectantly.

“Can we go, Dad?” Dottie asked with hopeful eyes. “They have crinkle fries - you love crinkle fries!”

“That’s really kind of you, Wayne, but we don’t want to intrude,” James was saying, but Eddie hurried forward.

“You wouldn’t be intruding, sir. We both graduated today, we can celebrate together!”

“Come on, Dad, they wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want us there.”

Both older men looked at each other with knowing eyes and James sighed theatrically before conceding, his daughter cheering happily at the new impromptu plans. The teens quickly headed in the direction of their cars deep in their own happy little world; their parents amusedly looked as Eddie opened her door for her and helped her in while they talked about burger combinations and debated about their orders.

“Meet you there?” James asked Wayne, also getting into his car.

“You bet. Come on, boy, quit the yappin’. You’ll see her again in ten minutes, she’s not gonna run away from you!”

“Jesus Christ, Wayne!”

Eddie and Dottie had already been to the diner down on Randolph a few times; some of them before they’d begun dating and once after, but never with their parental figures as unofficial chaperones. The booth at the back they loved to sit at was occupied, so they chose a table near the front instead - the diner was bustling with energy as multiple families had had the same idea as them and got a headstart on their kids’ summer holidays. Eddie helped Dottie with her chair, thoroughly enjoying how shy she’d get whenever he did something remotely gentleman-like, and plonked himself next to her, quickly engaging in conversation about the menu she was holding. James had no option but to sit in front of his daughter as Wayne took the seat in front of Eddie, both of them also busying themselves with their own menus.

The teens tried to act normal in front of their elders, they really did, but it was such a lovely day, and they were celebrating one of the biggest achievements in their short lives that it was as if they’d forgotten that friends didn’t usually look so smitten with one another. Wayne took little peeks at them over the bright laminated piece of paper in his hands, catching how Eddie was stroking the side of her arm resting on the table with his pinky finger while she talked; he loudly coughed when James put his menu down and took his reading glasses off, the unexpected sound making them jump and separate instantly just in time for him not to see them. A young and friendly looking waitress approached their table, pad of paper and pen in her hand.

“Hi! Are you ready for me to take your order or are we waiting for the wives to arrive?” she said with a perfect customer-service smile. Dottie blinked up at her twice, her face morphing into a blank expression.

“No, thank you, it’s just gonna be us four today,” James said politely.

Today, he’d said. Like Margaret and Maureen were off doing other things, like working or shopping or attending a jazzercise class, and couldn’t join them for lunch but they’d probably be around later. Like they weren’t gone forever. Like they were still alive. Nancy’s speech rattled around in Dottie’s brain, her eyes glazing over and her ears filling with invisible cotton. James and Wayne ordered their food, and Eddie ordered for both himself and her, very much aware that something was bothering her. Her sight was stuck to her Dad’s hand resting on the cheap laminate tabletop. The gold band that had been there on his finger since Margaret and him had said I do all those years ago taunted her, glinting under the fluorescent lights of the diner. They’d promised each other forever, and what did they get? What did she get?

“Dot,” Eddie muttered, hand sneaking down the table to settle on the exposed skin of her knee. “Darling, can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she turned to look at him in a daze.

Behind him, there was a table where a family sat: a father, a mother and a daughter, barely older than she’d been when she’d lost the most important woman in her life. The baby gurgled in her Mom’s arms, and the woman cooed at her, noses nuzzling against each other’s. Dottie turned her head towards the other side of the diner where a mother was cleaning up a little boy’s face, chocolate staining his chubby cheeks.

She had just graduated from high school and her mother wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there when she got her first period, during her first heartbreak, or when she won a spelling bee at age seven. She wouldn’t be there when she graduated college, when she got her first job, when she got married to the boy who was holding onto her leg with worried eyes. She would never be there, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. It was always going to be just them.

“Honey, are you okay?” James asked, leaning forward.

“I-I’m sorry,” she managed to get out before she stood up and bolted outside and into the parking lot, her chair scraping against the floor in her haste to get out of the diner.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Eddie said before he sped after her, his chains rattling with every long step he took to catch up with her.

In silence, James and Wayne watched their kids through the huge windows next to their table. When Dottie saw Eddie running behind her, she turned her back on him, hugging herself as she tried to keep her emotions together. She lifted a hand to wave at him over her shoulder and said something - probably that she was okay, that she didn’t need help so he should go back in - but as he came closer, it was evident that the storm that had been brewing inside her all morning was on the brink of overtaking her. All it took was feeling his hand hovering on her shoulder for her knees to buckle as she folded onto herself, Eddie instantly rushing forward to catch her and pulling her into his chest, her back rising up and down violently as she sobbed into his graduation gown. He chewed on his lower lip as he held himself together, never one to cry in public where people could see him and judge him for it. He muttered something into her hair, his chin resting onto the crown of her head, gently rocking her side to side as her sobs subsided.

“She was really lonely until we came here, y’know,” James said, breaking the quiet that had fallen on their table. Wayne could only look at his nephew, the gentleness he’d always known he’d possessed perfectly on display. “All her new friends are great to her but Eddie… you’ve got a good boy there, Wayne.”

“They’re both good kids,” Wayne said, matter-of-factly. “It’s a damn shame they’re so young and been through so much already.”

“Yeah, it is.”

In the parking lot, unaware that they were being watched, Dottie lifted her head from Eddie’s chest, an embarrassed smile on her lips as she fanned her face with her hands in an attempt to dry her tears without ruining what was left of her mascara. Eddie, still holding onto her, blew on her cheeks; she laughed, heart feeling equally heavy and light at the same time. There was joy and levity to be found in shared grief, that was something new she had learned from him.

“Sometimes I feel like Eddie understands her better than I do,” James admitted, fingers toying with his wedding band.

“They understand each other in ways that you and I never will,” Wayne mused. “That ain’t a bad thing. Actually, I think it might be healthy.”

“Mhm,” James agreed, half lost in his own thoughts.

Dottie squeezed Eddie one last time like she was mentally preparing herself, gathering strength for whatever came next, and nodded once to let him know that it was okay to let her go. Eddie followed her inside quietly, holding the door open for her as they filed in and sat once again at their table. They both looked very tired, and perhaps even a little bit flustered at having to face their guardians after bolting out of the diner so unexpectedly. Dottie leaned forward to grab a napkin to blow her nose.

“M’sorry,” she said, eyes low. James grabbed her hand gently.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. S’just a lot, you know?”

“I know,” her Dad said, watching her glance at Eddie next to her.

“Can I… is it okay if Eddie and I go to the lake after lunch?” she asked, shy. “We want to burn some cards.”

“Yeah, of course,” James said, knot tightening at the base of his throat and fingers tangling with his daughter’s.

Eddie was silent through the entire interaction, hands hellbent on shredding the paper napkin in front of him to minuscule pieces. Wayne could feel their table shake as he bounced his leg frantically, something he had long understood as his nephew’s tell when holding back tears. The waitress, unaware of what had just transpired, came back at that moment with their drinks and two milkshakes for the teens. Dottie smiled at them with wet eyes, and Eddie had the indecency to look sheepish: she hadn’t mentioned to him she wanted one, but he knew she loved strawberry milkshakes from this specific diner because they made them with real strawberry ice cream and not the powder. He must have ordered them when she blanked out. The simple gesture felt like balm for her anguished soul.

“Well, I’d like to propose a toast,” Wayne said, dissipating the remaining uncomfortable tension at their table. “To the Class of ‘86.”

“To the Class of ‘86,” James joined him, clicking their bottles of Coke together in the air.

Food arrived shortly after, and as an easy conversation sanded whatever edges were still sharp for the moment, Wayne observed the tender behavior of the kids sitting in front of him. It wasn’t as playful as it had been before, no, this felt much more… intimate. Considerate. Muted, yet still softhearted. Not missing a beat in the story she was telling to her Dad, Dottie grabbed the cherry on top of her milkshake and left it on top of Eddie’s. He gave her a toothy grin before popping it into his mouth, and she shook her head at him fondly. Yeah, this ain’t a bad thing at all, thought Wayne, taking a bite out of his food and laughing along with James at the ridiculous gossip Dottie and Eddie were sharing about their now former classmates.

“Okay, hold on a second before you run off,” Wayne said, as his nephew ushered his friend towards his van.

After lunch was done, it was decided that Wayne would drive Eddie and Dottie back to their trailer so they could get Eddie’s van and head to the lake for what they were calling The Card Ritual. The eldest Munson didn’t really understand what it meant, but it seemed that James knew what they were talking about so he didn’t ask too many questions about it - all he knew was that the kids were going to buy some cards at Melvald’s and then burn them, and that Dottie was emotional over the whole thing. If burning some paper brought peace to her heart, then who was Wayne to judge? He’d indulged in far more destructive coping mechanisms throughout his youth, evidenced by his unshakeable smoking habit.

After they’d said goodbye to James, they climbed into Wayne’s truck and headed to Forest Hills, graduation caps, gowns, and his suit jacket now discarded into the backseat. The heat kept rising in the early afternoon and Wayne just wanted to get out of his clothes, drink a glass of icy cold water, and take a nap in his undergarments next to his trusty fan, but he felt like there was a pressing conversation to be had before he went in and could finally relax on his day off.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked, Dottie coming to a stop next to him.

“I just gotta know, kid,” Wayne turned to her. “Does your Dad know about you two or do I have to play dumb with him?”

“W-what? What do you mean?” she asked, nervously.

“I may not be young, but I ain’t blind, sweetheart,” he smiled. “You’re not in trouble, I just wanna know how to act around your old man, that’s all.”

“He doesn’t know,” Eddie muttered, grabbing Dottie’s hand and surprising her with how quickly he confessed. “No one knows, we haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Except Chrissy,” Dottie said.

“Except Chrissy,” he conceded. “She knows because I asked her for advice, but she’s the only one.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long has this been going on?” Wayne asked, pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

“Uh, like two weeks? We’re not, like- we’re not official yet,” Eddie scratched his neck uncomfortably.

“Not offi- Edward,” his Uncle hardened his stare. “I taught you better than that.”

“Shit, I swear I was gonna do it today! Wanted to wait until after graduation, I’m not trying to be a flake-”

“It’s okay! We talked about it,” Dottie said, hanging onto his arm. “I don’t mind waiting, we just thought it’d be best to keep it a secret for now,” Wayne turned to look at her, wary. “Mr. Wayne, please, I’d announce it at the next Town Hall meeting if he’d let me.”

“We share all the same friends,” Eddie explained. “They’ll wanna know all the details, and I just- she breaks up with me and I’m the biggest loser in Hawkins, you know how those assholes are.”

“Oh my god, stop calling yourself a loser!” she whined.

“Don’t break up with me, and I won’t be!” he argued back, but it was clear he was being silly about it.

“Okay, so what’s the situation here? You two dating or not?” Wayne asked, getting back on topic.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, smiling down at her with hearts in his eyes. “We’re dating. I was gonna ask her to be my girlfriend officially later today but I might as well do it now since you’re so nosy.”

“It’s not like anything’s changing anyways,” Dottie said. “We just didn’t put a label on it, but I’ve kinda been his girlfriend since that party we went to a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hell yeah you are. And I’m your boyfriend, right?”

“No, you’re my private driver,” she deadpanned. “Of course you are, Eddie, what kind of question is that?”

“Just making sure, darling,” Eddie said, and Wayne snorted at how smug his nephew looked.

“Well, then… you two can go now, I guess. I’ll keep the secret.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Dottie said, coming to hug him. “We’ll tell people soon, we just want a little bit of privacy for now. The guys can be so nosy sometimes.”

“Don’t I know that, kid,” he chuckled. “I’m real happy for you two.”

“I’m really happy too,” she whispered to him, a bashful smile on her face.

Eddie finally let her into his van, her white sundress and summery sandals a stark contrast against his ripped jeans and chains. They were an odd couple if one only looked at their clothes, but it was so clear that they vibrated at the same frequency that Wayne couldn’t help but think that he should have expected this development sooner. He didn’t know why he’d chosen to believe them when they’d said nothing had happened between them the night of the party. His nephew went towards the driver’s seat when he called to him again.

“Ed, a word,” he was dead serious as Eddie jogged to where he was standing.

“Yeah?”

“You treat that girl right, okay?” Wayne said, voice low so she wouldn’t hear from the van. “I don’t wanna hear shit from her Dad about you bein’ stupid with her.”

“I know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, Wayne. I love her,” Eddie told him, so sure of what he was saying that it knocked the wind out of his Uncle’s lungs for a bit.

“Love, huh?” Wayne laughed softly, and Eddie shrugged with red ears but looked so very happy. “Go, have fun. And take care of her.”

“I will,” he nodded.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Wayne said, ruffling his hair roughly like when he was just a boy barely taller than his own hip. “And your Momma would be too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, eyes full of unshed tears. “I’m proud of me too.”

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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kanataka-san · 2 years

Text

Dustin: We need a plan, a really good one for it to work out

*everyone looks at (Y/N)*

(Y/N): Do I really look like a guy with a plan not to add a good one-?

#stranger things #stranger things drabble #stranger things x male reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield #dustin henderson x reader #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley

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munson-memories · 1 year

Text

Eddie grew his first facial hair and he didnt even notice.

It had been there that long, it had become a long tendril sprouting from the side of his chin.

Wayne noticed it one day when eddie threw himself down on the sofa, next to him.

He couldnt pass up the opportunity and ripped it out

"Who was you trying to impress with this one, son?" He laughed hysterically

Eddie didnt even get to see it attached :(

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2jihiir0 · 1 year

Text

Steve’s bedroom !

Filled with things from the ones he loves the most ♡

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanart #stranger things 4 #steddie fluff #stranger things #myart #Steve Harrington bedroom #steelve deserves all the happiness and love in the world #robin buckley #dustin henderson #erica sinclair

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eddieandbird · 1 year

Text

ctcwc22 day 24: secret santa

Max and Lucas caught onto Erica's plan to get more presents

#ctcwc22 #lumax #lucas sinclair #lumax fluff #max mayfield #erica sinclair

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sailorwritesstuff · 2 years

Note

hihi! can I request lucas with a s/o that's a cheerleader?

Stop this would be ADORABLE.

I think it's pretty clear that you guys met because you're now running in the same circle

Usually cheerleaders and basketball players sit together but it's MANDATORY on game days so the very first game day of the year you end up awkwardly stuff to the side with the other freshman popular table.

Lucas is a little bit late and ends up sitting next to you and the two of you accidentally bump heads when you try and help him catch some papers falling out of his open binder.

"I'm SO sorry."

"no. No it's ok."

"I'm so sorry oh my God...I'm. I'm Lucas."

After that the two of you sit together during mandatory game days it's a way for you to keep entertained without having to talk to the older douchebags.

He tells you about his friends and Max

In return you listen and tell him about yours

For a little bit he was still hung up on Max she was his first love and things ended very abruptly

But one day after your respective sports practice you were leaving around the same time and Lucas offered talking despite it being spring it was still a little cold out and your cheerjacket didn't protect much from that so Lucas offers you his letterman.

And something about the way that you won't if it draped over your shoulder as you thanked him shyly made his heart dance

When you got home that day you offered it back and he told you you can keep it.

"bring it back tomorrow."

"you don't have the game tomorrow I won't see you at lunch"

"I know... it gives me a reason to come find you."

"I'll see you tomorrow Sinclair."

And you DID bring it to school tomorrow. Received a great deal of teasing from your friends about wearing the "bench warmer's" jacket.

You don't get together officially into Lucas gets a little bit of closure with Max right before vecna.

He invites Max his friends to his game. And when he didn't see any of them there as he stepped onto the court he saw you stand up with excitement to see him better.

He heard you cheer louder than any other cheer leader when he scored.

He felt you tackle him in a hug and scream his name as soon as his feet hit the ground after being practically carried out the gym.

"LUCAS. OH MY GOD. YOU SCORED!"

"I scored..."

"I'm so proud of you!"

He just hugs you tighter before pulling away to look at your face "Will you go on a date with me?"

"yes! Of course."

-Blurb bonus-

"no. your problem is your knee keeps locking up at the wrong moments and your steps are messy Clara." The hushed whispers of the cheer captain, Eden was harsh as she scolded you squad member to your right. Leaving you to stare off towards the basket ball team to your left in hopes that she'd overlook you and leave you be. "It's not our fault as bases. That's your fault as the flyer. All you have to do is follow Chrissy's movements."

You slowly lift a carrot from your lunch and chew as quietly as possible. Watch Jason Carver pull Chrissy into his lap and smile like he was the happiest man alive. 'how sweet.'

"I have no problem finding a new flyer to replace you. Get. Your. Shit. Toge- OH!" Your captain yelps and your head snaps over to your other side.

"I am so sorry-" a tall awkward boy stood behind her frozen in fear. You hadn't seen what happened but Eden's face was bright red and her hands where holding her skirt in the back.

"You Pervert!" She smacks his chest and the boy clutches onto stacks of books and paper, ready to fall. "Go. Get."

The boy opens his mouth to apologize again but quickly walked away coming closer by the second. You cross your fingers under the table praying he'd find another empty seat besides the one beside you.

Unfortunately, he sat next to you several papers floating to the ground and on the table. "Sorry. Sorry-"

"it's no problem." You mumble. He began straightening his papers. You watch in curiosity as he placed them delicately in front of him. "You missed one"

You lean down to pick up the last of the papers by your foot at the same time he reached and the two of you accidentally collide.

"I'm so sorry-"

"no no it's ok- ow" You frown and wince leaning away from him "Today is not your day."

"no...it's not. I'm so sorry I'm Lucas."

"y/n."

"are you ok? Your head, I mean."

"you've got a pretty hard head, Lucas." You tease hoping it get this stranger to stop worrying. He smiles gently and your stomach does a soft spin. '...Lucas... what a nice name.'

#stranger things 4 #Lucas Sinclair #lucas sinclair angst #lucas sinclair fluff #lucas sinclair x reader #stranger things x reader #cheerleader!reader #stranger things #caleb mclaughlin #erica sinclair #sailor writes stuff #sailor's dreamhouse

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thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles · 2 years

Text

Die First

Max Mayfield x fem!Munson!reader

Warnings: cursing, st4vol2 spoilers (but also incorrect quoting so--), blood, vomiting, unbelievable amounts of angst (‘cause I like it for some reason), making out, happyish ending, reader has asthma

WC: 4.2k

Someone dies or someone gets hurt, but if one of us dies I hope I die first, ‘cause I don’t wanna live without you I don’t wanna ever learn how to fall asleep without you Tell me what’s worse: losing you now or later Maybe I can break the curse and I can be in love forever If I die first

Max was cursed. You knew that. But if anyone was gonna die, you’d want it to be you. Max had already been through so much and she didn’t need to be scared that she was gonna end up like Chrissy or Fred or Patrick. It wasn’t fair to her. If she rose in the air and her fragile bones broke--

“Hey, Y/n.” Max’s voice cut through the dim ringing in your ears and you snapped your eyes open to look at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. A-are you?”

“I’m okay as someone hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.” Max shrugged. “You look like you’re gonna be sick, Y/n.”

“I’m okay, really.” You patted the seat next to you and Max sat by you. You started to reach a hand out to hold hers, but Lucas took the seat next to her, forcing you to retract your hand.

Max’s face broke into a smile as she looked over at Lucas, who smiled back.

“Max, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Max smiled bigger as she looked at Lucas, making you feel like you were intruding. You silently got up and moved seats to sit by Robin, watching their exchange.

Robin looked between you and Max, then back again. She rested a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I know how it feels, Y/n.”

You startled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but it was too late.

“The way you’re looking at Max, the forlorn expression on your face, how I know you wish you were Lucas right now… you like your best friend.”

“Wh-what? I do not!” You spluttered, red-faced.

Robin gave you a look. “I’ve made that face before. I’ve felt the same way.”

“Don’t diagnose my feelings, Robin. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” You pushed her hand off your shoulder. “I don’t like Max like that. I would know if I did.”

Robin looked down, hurt. “I’m not trying to tell you that you like her, Y/n.”

“Yeah? Well, stop. Stop whatever you’re doing. I’m not about to end up in Pennhurst because of your bullshit explanation.”

“Why would you end up in Pennhurst?”

“Because you’re freaking crazy, Robin. You can’t just yell out in an RV that I like Max. Someone will think I’m psychotic and they’ll send me away.”

Robin scoffed. “It’s an easy secret to keep, Y/n.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And there’s always a chance that this won’t work, so you’d better tell her.”

“Wait, you- you think this won’t work? You think that we won’t be able to save Max and Hawkins?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! You think Max is gonna die, that we’re gonna lose, that Vecna’s gonna take over the world--” You began hyperventilating. Max looked up, hearing your loud breathing.

“Y/n!” Max moved quickly, grabbing your inhaler and placing it between your lips. “On three, okay? One, two, three.” She pressed the trigger on three and you inhaled the medicine. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at her, the sunlight haloing her head and glowing gorgeously across her face.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Max.” You avoided her eyes, choosing instead to look at Robin, who gave you a knowing look.

Max slid into the seat across from you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you,” You continued avoiding her gaze, focusing on Lucas behind her. “You should get back to Lucas.”

Max frowned, “Uh, okay.” She slid out of the bench seat and went back to Lucas.

Robin opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off. “Shut up.”

She grinned. “I wasn’t going to say anything. But you should tell her, Y/n.”

“No, I can’t. When we kill Vecna, she’ll avoid me. She’ll hate me, and if you couldn’t tell, Lucas is trying to get up the courage to ask her out again. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re suppressing your feelings--”

“Robin!” Steve called from the front. “Stop harassing a kid and get your shit together. Max, Lucas, Y/n, Erica, this is your stop.”

The four of you gathered the lanterns and pads of paper and moved toward the door. Steve caught your arm as you went out the door. “Good luck.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your wrist out of his grip, turning to receive Eddie’s worried look.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know. Just be careful, okay?”

Your brother’s worry scared you, and you nodded. “Okay.”

You stomped down the steps of the Winnebago and Lucas shut the door behind you. Max pulled her headphones over her ears again and clicked play on the tape. You gave her a worried glance, which she ignored. Erica went up the steps of the Creel House as Steve pulled away from the curb. Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and clicked your lantern on.

Oh my God, I’m so scared.

Max was looking around the attic when she was intercepted by Erica, who already had you and Lucas in tow. Erica held up the pad of paper. “I found him.” Max read off the sheet, then nodded and followed the three of you to the living room, where Erica’s lantern glowed bright and subdued shades of blue.

Erica deposited the three of you in the living room and then crossed the street to call Steve, Robin, and Nancy.

The awkwardness and tension in the air were almost palpable. Lucas shot Max a smile, who then scribbled something down on her pad of paper.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” Lucas returned, shielding his paper from you.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Lucas wrote, adding a smiley face. And, after a moment’s hesitation: “Movies on Friday?”

Max grinned and began to write something, hiding her pad when Lucas leaned over to look. When she showed him, you saw that she had drawn two stick figures holding hands, and immediately felt sick to your stomach. The three lanterns on the table suddenly went dim. Shit. Max stood, retrieving her shoes and tying the laces. You and Lucas got your lanterns and followed Max up the stairs in socked feet.

Max stood in the center of the attic, lantern shining brightly on a crate in front of her. “Come and get me, asshole. I’m right here. No music this time.” Max set her cassette player on the crate beside the lantern to prove her point. Then she sat on the floor and began to speak. She spoke of Billy, of how she was glad she wasn’t dead but at the same time wished she was, how she was happy that Billy was dead. That’s when her eyes rolled back in her head and Lucas dove to her side. You ran to the window and were flashing your flashlight toward the playground when you heard a loud thudding behind you-- someone was coming up the stairs.

Jason’s blond hair became visible first, then his bloodshot and tired eyes, green letterman jacket, and finally, the shiny, silvery steel of a revolver. You felt bile rising in your throat and swallowed hard.

“Sinclair,” Jason said, diverting Lucas’ attention from Max. “What are you doing? Wake her up.”

“Jason, I can’t.” Lucas stood, shocked, and moved away from Max.

“Why not? Is this another devil, cult thing? I said to wake her up!” Jason raised the gun and trained it on Lucas, loading the chamber with a click of his thumb.

“No, Jason, don’t!” You stepped out of the shadows. “You don’t understand, this has to happen.”

“Another Munson. I should’ve known.” Jason sneered, then turned his gun on you. “Why does it have to happen, freak? So you can open a gate for Satan?”

“We’re not devil spawn, Jason,” You scoffed, then realized how poor a decision it was to antagonize a person with a gun, let alone someone who seemed willing to use it on you. “Just… we can’t wake her up, but we’re not killing her.”

Jason let out a brutal laugh, then got down beside Max, making sure to keep his gun pointed at you. “Hey, wake up.” Jason shook Max’s shoulder lightly, attempting to wake her up from the trance. “Wake up!” You could tell that if he couldn’t wake her up, Jason would do anything in his power to force you to bring her out of it, including threatening you at gunpoint or possibly shooting you.

Jason stood and pointed his gun at Lucas again. “Wake her up, Sinclair.”

“We already told you, we can’t!” You shouted, trying to pull Jason’s focus away from Lucas. “Please, Jason, you have to trust us.”

“I can’t trust you if your cult killed Chrissy and Patrick. Especially if you’re planning to kill this girl.”

“We’re not,” Your voice broke and you could feel tears wanting to well up in your eyes, but you forced them away. “I would die for Max, I-I never want to lose her. Honestly, I hope I die first because I don’t wanna live without her.”

“Then wake. Her. Up.” Jason menacingly shook the gun at you and then Lucas let out a primal cry and tackled Jason. Their bodies collided with the crates, spilling the contents to the floor. The gun fell out of his hand and skittered across the floor, the shine lost in the darkness of the attic. Lucas punched Jason in the side and Jason returned a punch to Lucas’ face.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

The walkie crackled with static and you heard the front door slam, feet pounding up the stairs.

The doorknob rattled and Erica yelled, “Let me in!”

You attempted to get around the boys, but Jason’s arm rocketed out and tripped you. You fell and broke your chin and, to your horror, the cassette player on the splintering wood.

“Son of a bitch!” Bile again rose in your throat, forcing its way out of your mouth. You held back a cry of anguish. Blood and vomit leaked down your chin and stained the collar of your shirt. With a loud crack of glass breaking, the room went quiet. You spun, expecting Jason, but Lucas was keeled over, hands on his knees, panting heavily. He looked from Jason to you, to the broken player on the ground, then to Max, whose legs were uncrossing themselves as she rose into the air.

“No!” Lucas yelled, standing under her and reaching for her feet. Too late, Max’s eyes went almost white. She convulsed and then her limbs went taught, the bones in her arms and legs pressing against her skin harshly before snapping loudly.

You let out a dry sob and Max fell into Lucas’ arms, who was sobbing freely. You knelt by them and brushed Max’s hair out of her face, tears springing to your eyes. “Shit, Max, no!”

“L-Lucas? Y/n? I-I can’t see, I’m scared… I’m not ready to die, I don’t want to die!” Max’s eyes were white, thick drops of blood dripping down her cheeks.

“You won’t, Max, okay? You’re gonna be fine, I promise, I swear on God that you’re gonna be just fine,” You reassured, despite the sobs building up in the back of your throat. A sense of helplessness was beginning to overtake your body, starting in the pit of your stomach and rising to your head, echoing in your skull.

“Stay with me, Max, stay with me!” Lucas cupped Max’s cheek as he sobbed, brushing his tears off her pale face.

Max’s breathing began to slow to a painful pace and she heaved once, blood splattering her lips and chin, then stopped altogether. You and Lucas watched in agony as her eyes fell closed, hiding the white irises from you.

The ground split open, dark red light spilling from the fissure, and you helped Lucas pull Max away before following the fissure’s progress. It ripped through the attic floor towards Jason, who lay partially conscious near the bay window. He let out a pained moan as it tore through him, killing him almost instantly and disintegrating him, forcing you to turn away from Max and throw up on the floor. Your breathing increased in pace as you watched Lucas attempt to wake Max, as the dreadful realization settled on you- Max was dead. They hadn’t stopped Vecna. Robin had been right, and you still hadn’t told Max your true feelings for her. The door finally opened and Erica stopped cold at the sight of Max.

“Erica, call 911!” You yelped, nearly choking on the lack of air. “Hurry!”

Erica turned and rushed down the stairs, footsteps thudding loudly against the horrible backdrop of silence, save for your ragged breathing.

“Erica, help!” Lucas called in an earth-shattering voice, which caused you to sob against your better judgment, which knew you were having an asthma attack- but you’d left your inhaler on the RV, which was parked at your trailer. You gasped and clutched your throat, trying to avoid looking at Max or Lucas.

“Sh-shit,” You coughed, and then you could hear the sirens. Erica had called emergency services and they were close. Max let out a small gasp for air and you swiveled to her, still gasping. Lucas startled at the outburst and gently grabbed her wrist, checking for a pulse. You locked eyes with him and he gave a slight nod. However faint Max’s heartbeat was, it was there. Max was alive. It was impossible, unthinkable, you knew you had to be dreaming, but you thanked God nonetheless for the development and smiled softly, still hacking out breaths.

The EMTs rushed up the stairs, closely followed by Erica, and immediately transferred Max to a stretcher. They carried Max to the ambulance and attended to you and Lucas quickly. They put antiseptic on Lucas’ face and gave you a quick dose of albuterol before flipping the sirens and lights on then driving off, leaving you, Lucas, and Erica on the sidewalk in front of the Creel House.

Lucas held his sister close, the pair of them shell-shocked. You went back upstairs, ignoring the red rip in the floors and ceilings. Retrieving the walkie, you called Steve.

“Steve?” You choked out, noticing the dark stain of blood on the ground. “Robin, Nancy? We kind of have an emergency here.”

The walkie screeched once and then Steve’s voice came through. “I know. We’re going back through the gate now. Be there soon.” Then, nothing. Radio silence from the older teens. You went back downstairs after collecting the pieces of Max’s player.

You sat on the curb next to Lucas and Erica, “They’re on the way. I don’t know anything else.” You whispered. “I have a feeling that something really bad happened.” You coughed, hiding a sob. “And, Lucas, Max is gonna be fine, okay? She’s alive, and that’s better than--” You stopped short as car lights turned on across the street and someone wearing a Hawkins High letterman jacket got out of the car.

Hands deep in his pockets, Andy crossed the street and stood in front of you three.

“Where’s Jason?” His voice was deep as if he was keeping himself from crying.

You looked up at him, suddenly sympathetic, understanding of Jason’s motives. “He didn’t make it. I-I’m sorry.”

Andy’s eyes shot from his shoes to your eyes. “You’re lying. What did you do to him?!”

“I didn’t do anything,” You replied, somewhat calmly. “I’m sorry, Andy. Go home.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to punch you. Then he turned around, went back to Jason’s car, and got in the passenger side. You looked away as he started to cry, partially out of embarrassment and partially out of sympathy. Headlights glowed down the road and you turned to see the Winnebago turning the corner. You forced yourself to your feet, then pulled Lucas and Erica to their feet.

Steve parked the RV on the side of the road and killed the engine, to your surprise. The door swung open and you waited until everyone was out of the RV, but you only counted four pairs of feet, not five like you expected. Swinging your head up, you noticed who was missing. Where the hell was Eddie?

Steve’s eyes connected with yours, brimming with tears and sympathy. “Y/n…” He held out his arms and you rushed towards him.

“Where’s Eddie?” You held back tears, just as everyone else did. “Steve. Where’s my brother?”

“Where’s Max?” You heard Nancy ask Lucas.

“Sh-she’s at the hospital,”

“You might need this.” Steve opened his hand to you and you took your inhaler from his hand. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“No, Steve,” A sob pushed its way out of your throat. “Don’t lie to me, it’s not a joke. Where’s Eddie?”

Steve shook his head and a tear traced its way down his cheek.

“No--no, you’re lying! You’re lying!” Air whistled through your lungs and you pulled the trigger on the inhaler, the medicine uselessly escaping into the air.

Steve lunged for the inhaler and snatched the inhaler out of your grip, despite your protest, and forced it between your lips. He pressed the trigger, forcing you to breathe properly, and hugged you tightly.

You pushed uselessly at his chest, “No, get off. You lied to me, I hate you, I hate you.” Tears streamed in an unbroken river down your cheeks, staining your’s and Steve’s shirts.

You could feel Steve’s tears wetting your hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He comfortingly rubbed your back and you clutched at his jacket, clenching it tightly in your fist. When you finally pulled away, your fingers were stiff and you were sure that your face was tear-stained and red.

“Did you at least bring him back?” You watched for any sign that they had, an imperceptible nod of some sort, but Steve shook his head, forlorn. “You left him in the Upside Down?!” You shoved Steve backward. “You left him in that nightmare? What the hell’s wrong with you?!” You punched Steve’s chest multiple times until he grabbed your wrists and pulled you close again. “You bastard! You’re useless, I can’t trust you to do anything! Eddie trusted you to kill Vecna and you couldn’t even do that, he died and you failed!” The venom in your words stung, you knew, but you couldn’t stop, despite the guilt. “You failed and Max died, you goddamn bastard!” Your voice rose, words contorting into knife-sharp shapes as you continued to yell obscenities at the poor boy. “Asshole!”

A rough hand covered your mouth, forcing you to stop yelling. “Jesus Christ, Y/n. I know, you’re mad. I’d be upset, too. But that doesn’t give you license to swear at me on the sidewalk. Eddie was my friend. I’m just as mad as you are.”

“I-I’m not mad! I’m hurt and it’s not fair that you left Eddie there, in the Upside Down, all by himself.”

“What was I supposed to do? Leave Dustin there with his body?!”

“No! But you can’t leave by himself, he hates being alone, Steve. It’s not fair.” You took a deep breath and stopped crying. In a softer voice, you said, “You could have brought him back, at least.”

Six months later

Max’s breathing was steady, and her heart rate was stable. As far as you knew, she was going to wake up within the next year or so. Some coma patients could hear when they were unconscious, but the doctors didn’t know if Max could, so they assumed she couldn’t. That’s what they had told you, that she couldn’t hear. The whole town thought that Eddie had hurt her, had nearly killed her, but they knew that Eddie was dead. They assumed because of the “earthquake.” Lucas had stopped visiting Max after the first month and you had taken his place. You didn’t read to her or tell her about your day, you just sat by her side and wished you could hold her hand. The cast was no longer around her arm, but if anyone saw you…

Oh, screw it. You picked up Max’s hand. Her skin was warm and the weight of her hand in yours felt nice, but you didn’t know what Max would say if she were awake and you took her hand in yours. Then, the slightest bit of pressure on your hand. It wasn’t just the warmth and weight of Max’s hand, you realized. Max exhaled sharply and your eyes travelled up to hers. Her blue eyes glistened, and God, was she pretty, even under the harsh hospital lights.

“Y/n?” Max’s voice cracked, almost like a walkie-talkie. It was the first time she’d said anything in six months, so the words must’ve hurt to say, must’ve scratched her throat on the way out.

“Yeah, Max, it’s me,” You made to take your hand from hers’ covertly, but Max threaded your fingers together and squeezed your hand. “How you feeling?” You turned your head away from hers’ in an attempt to hide your blush.

“I’ve been… better,” Max smiled. “Y/n, l-look at me.”

You obeyed, turning your head to face her again. Her red hair seemed firey, her eyes alight. “I swear to God, you’re a goddess.”

Max’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Shit.” You dropped your eyes to the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“If you meant it, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You blushed. “No, I mean, yeah, I did mean it, but I meant I’m sorry that we didn’t… save you. We tried, really, but I crushed your tape player. I’m so sorry, Max, I know it was probably awful.”

Max scooted over and patted the bed beside her. “It’s okay.”

You shifted into the bed beside her, trying not to sit on the IV or the medicine drip that was tucked into her arm. “Doesn’t make me any less sorry.”

Max squeezed your hand again. “What does this mean?” She raised your interlocked hands.

“I think you think it means something different than me,” You mumbled, looking down.

“I know what you think it means,” Max tucked a hand under your chin and turned your head to her again. “And I like you, too.”

You reddened. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about--” And then her lips were on yours. Shocked, you pulled away. “But what about Lucas? You and him--”

Max put a finger against your lips. “Being in a coma gave me lots of time to reflect, Y/n.” Max grinned, “And I know now that I had wanted to go on that date with you.”

“With me?” This was unbelievable. The Max Mayfield wanted to go out with Y/n “The Freak” Munson?

“Only if you want to,” Max suddenly seemed smaller, more fragile, and she looked away. “Sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“No, no, Max, I do want to go out with you, I was just surprised. I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“I didn’t know until I heard Robin talking in the RV. The day that I… died.” You winced, but she continued, “And I was so confused. I thought I was just feeling normal best friend feelings for you, but then I remembered I never felt that way with El… Y/n, I love you.”

Your body propelled you forward, into her lips. She sat for a second, then she kissed you back.

Melting into the kiss, you pushed everything you felt for her into your lips as her tongue swiped along your bottom lip. Parting your lips, you felt her tongue on yours and-- the heart monitor went off, indicating that Max’s heart rate was above 90 bpm. You pulled away, grinning, and reached for her wrist.

“Feeling okay there, Max?” You could feel her pulse pounding, you knew it was going as fast as yours.

“Yeah, I-I’m okay,”

“And, for the record, I love you, too,” You were leaning in to kiss her again when the door flew open. In the doorway stood a dark figure. The person had dark, bloodshot eyes and a pained expression on their face. They stepped into Max’s room and grinned, showing bloodstained teeth. You took them in for a moment, then you flew to their side.

“Oh my God, Eddie!” Hugging him tightly, you could smell blood on his clothes, and in his hair, and the air suddenly wasn’t enough for your lungs. “Je-Jesus Christ, you’re alive!” You coughed, and then Eddie was leading you over to the chair you’d been sitting in and rooting through your bag for your inhaler. He triggered it for you because you refused to let go of him.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie rubbed your back comfortingly. “Hey, Red.”

“Hi,” Max’s voice was soft, her face red. “You didn’t--”

“See you guys kissing? No, no way.”

Your face heated up, “I hate you.”

“You were just saying how happy you were that I was alive.” Eddie kissed the top of your head.

“And I am, but I can still hate you. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t. I can’t stick around long, anyway.”

“What? Why not?”

“He knows I’m gone and he’ll assume that I went to warn you about his plan.”

“What? Who--”

“He, as in Vecna?” Max’s face was dark, her stony expression practically unreadable.

“Yeah.”

188 notes · View notes

moonchildreads · 10 months

Text

small town

Chapter 19 - We Built This City

IN THIS CHAPTER: Finals week, a friendly invitation, and the Hellfire Class of 86' takes a bow [7.6k]

WARNINGS: vague foreshadowing, mentions of fantasy violence? they play dnd, it's not real (again, taking the liberty of making them play 5e because i wasn't about to learn advanced dnd for this when i already play 5e)

A/N: whew! didn't think i'd ever get to finish this one lol. huge HUGE shout out to @gutterratt, who not only is a wonderful friend i was hugging and sharing the same air with just a few days ago, but also my dm (the best dm in the world, don't @ me). this chapter would have been impossible without your guidance, knowledge, and support. thank you for teaching me to dm through eddie. also shout out to brian murphy and NADDPOD for the inspiration for this chapter! check them out on spotify if you like dnd podcasts, they deserve all the love they get. onto the update!

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

We just want to dance here Someone stole the stage They call us irresponsible Write us off the page

Wednesday, May 28th - 1986

Finals week in Hawkins High was going pretty well or terribly wrong depending on who you asked. On Monday, freshman Cindy Jackson had come out of her Geography classroom sobbing, claiming that she had flunked the entire test and her GPA was going to fall drastically below average. Dustin and Mike had simply stepped around her in the hallway and headed to the parking lot to get their bikes without sparing a single thought for her. Eddie couldn’t believe how calm he felt whenever he sat down at his desk and a new test was placed in front of him. By the time Wednesday lunch period was upon them, he had already taken four of his six final exams, Dottie had taken five of her nine, and band practice had been suspended so everyone could study for tomorrow’s new round of tests, or in Eddie’s case, put the finishing touches to their upcoming D&D Friday session.

So far, their plan to stick to each other and not walk around the school alone like sitting ducks for the bullies had been working. Dottie only shared one class with Andy Humphrey, and it seemed that her threat to rat him out to their teacher had worked because no one in the basketball team had bothered them since then. At least, not any more than the usual jeers and disgusted glances they so often directed to her friends in Hellfire. Eddie had been keeping a low profile for the past couple of months, his entire thought process having been claimed by his ever growing crush on a certain short curly-haired girl; his frequent tirades in the cafeteria had been reduced to only one loud proclamation in the hallways every couple of weeks, and to be completely honest, no one cared about him or his unconventional opinions so close to the end of the school year, so him suddenly turning into a wallflower hadn’t really been noteworthy to his peers. Everyone just simply assumed that he was stressed about failing senior year for the third time in a row and left him alone to his devices.

When the group compared schedules on Monday and saw that Dottie was going to be headed to the same lecture as Andy three times that week, it was quickly decided that Donny would be her guardian since his Italian lessons were at the same time she’d be taking AP Spanish in the classroom opposite of his. Dustin and Mike were to be inseparable, and when they had different schedules, Mike was supposed to shadow Nancy as much as he could while Dustin stuck to Jeff on their way to the east wing for their respective classes. Eddie watched over Dottie like a hawk during their shared free periods, going so far as to stand outside the girls’ bathroom while she went about her private business in case any idiot got strange ideas about cornering her in a place where she was supposed to be safe. Ms. Kelly had looked very surprised to see all six boys waiting for Dottie to come out of their latest check-in session; it was strange to see how subdued they had all gotten in recent months and she knew it had everything to do with the sunshine girl that happily linked arms with the freshmen, Dustin excitedly skipping alongside her down the hallway while Mike dragged his feet next to them in protest.

It was, perhaps, that false sense of security that had her approaching the basketball team’s table after students had begun trickling out of the cafeteria, surely headed to their last classes of the day. Donny was supposed to safeguard her on their way to her second AP Spanish class of the week, but he had asked her to please wait for him near the teachers while he excused himself to the bathroom and promptly left her alone. When Dottie realized Andy wasn’t seated at the jock-filled table but one Lucas Sinclair was, she quickly forgot about her friends’ insistent requests to “lay low” until the school year was over and headed towards him without a second thought entering her mind. She stopped right in front of the freshman who eyed her curiously, brows raised in an unspoken question.

“Hi! You’re Lucas, right?” Dottie said, smiling brightly.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you! Would you mind giving these to Erica for me, please?” she extended her closed fist towards him and he instinctively held his palm open for her. Two pieces of shiny plastic hit his skin softly; he recognized them as part of his old dice set, the one he assumed had been gathering dust tucked away in his bedroom. “I must have accidentally taken them with me a couple of weeks ago - I would give them to her myself but I won’t see her until Friday and it’d suck if she bought a new set because she thought she lost these.”

“Yeah, that would really suck,” he chuckled uncomfortably, shifting in his seat knowing his new friends were watching the uncommon interaction unfold. “I’ll give them to her for you, don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you so much! Here, for your troubles,” she gave him a pack of Smarties as payment in kind. “See you around!”

“Thanks,” he managed to mutter before she bolted out of the room and into the hallway in search of Donny.

Lucas stared at the candy bag in his hand next to one d20 and one d4 that had belonged to him a couple of months before. They were black with gold numbers that he’d repainted himself with one of Will’s thinnest brushes, trying his hardest to cover the tacky white underneath. He hadn’t opened his D&D box in a while, the hard plastic container hidden away underneath his bed and pushed all the way back until it touched the wall. He’d yell at Erica for touching and stealing his things, but that would have meant admitting that he still cared about the part of him he’d been trying so hard to deny lately and he couldn’t allow himself to fail like that. Lucas was tired of being the bigger man; let his former friends apologize to him for once. Though, as days went on, he was starting to realize that maybe they would never come back at all.

“How do you know that chick?” asked Chance, one of his seniors.

“I don’t,” Lucas replied quickly. “I don’t have classes with her.”

“She’s a senior,” Patrick said. “I’m with her in English. She always sits with that Munson freak.”

“What does she want with you? Who’s Erica?”

“Erica, she’s my little sister. She wanted to return some dice to her, I think they are in a club together, I don’t know,” Lucas said, but he did know. He’d noticed Dottie sitting at lunch with his club members, he’d seen her wearing the same Hellfire shirt he owned, he’d heard Erica talk about her to their Mom. Lucas Sinclair knew exactly who Dorothy Burke was.

“Isn’t your sister like… eight?” Chance laughed.

“Eleven,” the freshman corrected him, but that seemed to peak Jason Carver, the basketball team’s captain’s attention.

“Your little sister is hanging out with those… freaks?” Jason asked, eyebrows bunching together.

“They play board games together, it’s so dumb-”

“She shouldn’t be around them, she’s just a kid. Who knows what they could do to her if… They aren’t good people, they- they could hurt her,” the captain said, tone stern.

“She’ll be fine, they’re just a bunch of nerds-”

“Lucas,” Jason insisted. “You’re a good friend and a good teammate to us. I’m sure you’re a good son to your parents too, but you have to be good to her as well. That’s your duty as her older brother.”

“Yeah, I-” he quickly put away the dice and Smarties in his pocket and nodded. “You’re right, I’ll talk to her about it.”

“You make sure you do that, okay? Take care of her,” the senior said, patting his shoulder in a friendly way and getting up. “Come on, guys, let’s go to class.”

Lucas walked behind his teammates until he reached his classroom and unassumingly disappeared from the group. He took his seat at the back and noticed Mike and Dustin sitting at the front, bickering with one another as usual. Bitterly, he recalled switching seats with the girl who now sat next to Dustin after Spring Break. Jason wasn’t being mean with his warning, he knew that. His captain had siblings too, he knew what being a big brother meant and he extended that same level of protectiveness towards his friends and younger members of the team. Lucas felt grateful that Jason, the current King of Hawkins High, was so willing to look out for not only him, but Erica too, if only because she was related to him. But when Mike snorted loudly at something Dustin had said, he couldn’t help but think that there weren’t people on Earth he would trust more to take care of Erica when he couldn’t watch her than Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson. And perhaps Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley too, but they didn’t have to know that, lest their egos got even bigger than they already were.

Friday, May 30th - 1986

The last day of finals week came towards them at neck breaking speed, causing Eddie and Dottie to stick to each other like velcro during the final three hours of the day. During third period, he’d had his Latin exam and she sat with him during every available second prior to it quizzing him on his vocab. After that, they both had had their Calc final, where they sat side by side suffering through it all together. He’d finished before her and quickly returned to his seat, noticing how her nerves seemed to be heightened every time someone got up and was granted permission to head to the cafeteria early. He slipped one of his rings off and slid it across the table until it bumped with her eraser; she smiled, thankful, and put it on her index finger to twirl with her left thumb while she concentrated on the numbers in front of her. After that came lunch and everyone was positively buzzing. Most of the student body had already finished all their exams and there was a sense of freedom in the air, a shared joy that couldn’t enter Dottie’s brain yet as she frantically reviewed her AP Spanish notes for her ninth final exam of the week. One look at her tired, wet eyes after someone had shouted a little bit too loud, and Eddie pulled her out of the room and into the back of his van where she could finally breathe and concentrate on reading her own writing before the bell rang.

After exams were finally over, Eddie headed to the woods to wait for Chrissy who had asked him if she could buy a rather unusual amount of weed considering her casual habits, and Dottie seeked refuge in The Weekly Streak’s newsroom until it was time for Hellfire to begin. She was helping Fred put together a mockup for a story he wanted to present to Nancy the next week when the editor-in-chief herself asked her if she wanted to go to the bathroom. Dottie, being well-versed in girl language, accepted without complaint and followed the blue-eyed girl into the nearest bathroom where she immediately began washing her hands in an attempt to hide the fact that she was so very much nervous about whatever she was about to say.

“Nance? Is everything okay?” Dottie asked, eyeing her carefully.

“Yeah- yes, everything’s okay. I just… I wanted you to know since you were the one that said I should just go for it so… I called Jonathan.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised that she was getting an update on the topic at all.

“We talked and he says he understands that I’m upset. We didn’t break up but we’re going to take a break, officially this time,” Nancy shut off the water tap and stepped to the side to wipe her hands dry with coarse paper towels.

“Well, how do you feel about that?”

“Good, I think. He says he has a job now, and he’ll go full-time for the summer after graduation so he might be able to save up some money to come see me,” she smiled, hope swimming behind her eyes.

“That’s great, Nancy!” Dottie said, giving a big hug to her friend. Nancy went stiff at first but after a second, she breathed out and hugged her back. “I’m so proud of you, I know that was probably a really hard conversation for you both.”

“It was but… I feel better now. I want to trust him again, and we agree that maybe this will help us get there.”

“So you’re still off the market then? Asking for a friend that’s totally not Fred,” Dottie joked, and Nancy let out a girly giggle that surprised the both of them.

“Off the market, and out of his league,” the editor-in-chief said, playfully stern.

“Oh my god, Nance!” she let out a loud snort that sent Nancy into a fit.

It felt good to laugh like this, to shoulder a silly burden together, to foster a new friendship and be vulnerable with one another. Growing up hadn’t been easy for either girl in wildly different ways, but the summer of ‘86 was right ahead of them and promised greener pastures if one could get the courage to take the first step outside. Nancy hadn’t let herself have a friend for so long. It had been easy with Jonathan - shared trauma bonds you like nothing else in the world after all - but it was undeniable that a part of her had died that day when Barb went missing. Even though Dottie wasn’t Barb, Nancy could feel like Nancy again right that moment, in that bathroom, hiding from their nosy journalist-aspiring colleagues and the junior that kept following her around like a lovesick puppy. She felt herself breathe a little bit easier almost a full year after the nightmare that still woke her up in the middle of night, prompting her to double check the guns she had stashed in the topmost part of her closet so her little sister Holly could never find them by accident.

The door to the bathroom opened and a group of cheerleaders came in, fussing over their makeup and hair before practice began. They were chatting excitedly about an upcoming party, and Nancy and Dottie moved aside to let them get access to the mirrors. They were about to leave when another girl pushed the door open in a frenzy; a slightly out of breath Chrissy Cunningham ran inside in haste.

“Where were you?!” shouted Melissa, rounding on her as soon as the door had slammed itself shut.

“I got held up by a teacher, calm down,” Chrissy lied seamlessly, but her glossy eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone that had spent any significant amount of time with the elder Hellfire members. “What are we talking about?”

“Your boyfriend’s party. What are you gonna wear?” Kathleen asked, putting away her lip gloss.

“Are we allowed to go?” Libby asked, eyes hopeful. Standing next to her was another junior tumbler, Valerie, who was downright pouting at their captain.

“Of course you are!” Chrissy said, taking full advantage of the fact that Jason would never complain about her inviting her younger cheerleader friends if she pouted at him a little. “Everyone is invited. Are you two coming too?”

It took a few milliseconds for Dottie to register that Chrissy was talking to Nancy and her, and she only realized because Nancy quickly put on a friendly smile and shook her head, a quick excuse on her lips.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I already told my Mom I would babysit my sister. It’s their date night and I’d hate it if they had to cancel,” she said, and Dottie knew she was lying because her eyebrows bunched upwards in the very familiar way they bunched whenever she lied to other people in the school’s newspaper about how great their ideas were.

“Aw, they still go on dates, that’s so cute,” Valerie said, ever the romantic.

“What about you, Dot? Are you coming?” Chrissy asked, ignoring the way her friends looked at her like she was inviting a rabid dog inside for dinner.

“Uh, I- I wasn’t aware there was gonna be a party.”

“It’s tomorrow night at my boyfriend’s house but I’m organizing it so it’s honestly my party,” she giggled, and Dottie swore she’d heard Gareth make that same sound whenever he was high. “We’re saying goodbye to senior year! I just told Eddie you were all invited, you should totally come.”

“You did what?” Melissa asked and Kathleen scoffed.

“It’s our last senior year party. All seniors can come,” Chrissy said in a tone that left no questions to be asked before she turned back to Dottie. “It’s gonna be really fun, we can probably convince Jason to let us play Queen at some point! Please think about it at least? For me?”

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll think about it. For you,” Dottie smiled, and Chrissy grinned.

“We should go now,” Nancy said, interrupting the awkward tension. “Lots of newspaper club things to do.”

“Oh, sure! We’ll see you around!”

Nancy guided Dottie out with a hand on her elbow; Chrissy and Valerie were the only ones that waved them goodbye. Just before the door closed, Melissa snarled “You invited the freaks? What’s wrong with you?” but they never heard what Chrissy replied. They made their way back to the newspaper club’s room in silence, each of them deep in their own thoughts. Nancy realized that she hadn’t been to a party since she’d broken up with Steve, her ex before she’d started dating Jonathan. Had it really been that long? It seemed like it had been ages since the last time Nancy tried to act like she was a normal teenager, like she didn’t need to keep a light on while she slept, scared of the shadows in the corner of her own bedroom. Like she didn’t have sleeping pills issued by a military doctor that she refused to take hidden inside a pair of old sneakers. Nancy would never be the same Nancy she was before November 8th, 1983, but she had to try.

“We should go,” she said, Dottie’s head snapping up from the papers in front of her. “To Chrissy’s party.”

“You wanna go?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“O-okay! I can ask my Dad to take us if you want,” Dottie offered.

“I drive, I can pick you up if you want.”

“Sure, if that’s better for you. Thank you!” the brown eyed girl smiled. “I actually haven’t been to any parties since senior year began.”

“We better make this one count then,” Nancy said, and went back to work with a timid but happy expression on her face.

Dottie tried really hard not to grin, but the thought of not only being invited to her first high school party in Hawkins, but also going with her newest friend and possibly her Hellfire gang made her impossibly giddy. Senior year had certainly sucked royal ass when it began, but it was definitely ending with a bang, not a whimper.

As Eddie ticked final after final on his list, he had allowed himself to think that he would be DMing his last session as the leader of the Hellfire Club that Friday. He had carefully crafted an emotional ending to the adventure they were currently on, and hoped his players would be on board to having a less action packed meeting than usual. They were, after all, not only saying goodbye to him as a leader, but also Jeff, Gareth, Donny, and Dottie. When classes started again in September, Mike and Dustin would be sophomores and the club would be in their hands, new sheep ready to be recruited walking down the hallways of Hawkins High.

The session had started, as usual, with a recap of the previous session's shenanigans. After finding out that their dead mutual friend Orfuel wasn’t, in fact, dead but instead trapped within Shadowfell, the party quickly realized what their next move was: to embark on a journey towards the Forest of Moonstone where Jeff’s character Tharivol had grown up and lived in, all in search for guidance and help of his elders. Orfuel’s partner in crime and girlfriend, Dedlock, had sacrificed him to Mask, the Lord of the Shadows, and was being kept in his divine realm inside Shadowfell - a castle known as the Shadow Keep. Dedlock wanted to rise above the ranks in the church of Mask, and this worthy act of manipulation was going to give her entry into the Circle of the Gray Ribbon, which is where his most loyal priests belonged.

The table was buzzing in excitement as they traveled through Eddie’s carefully crafted world in what would be their last time exploring it. They took their time on their way over to Moonstone, Eddie forcing them into lengthy conversations around a campfire, sharing stories about Orfuel and how they’d become such good friends with him that they were all willing to cross planes of existence to get him back in their lives. They attuned weapons and readied spells, and got a long rest in before the final challenge of the campaign finally arrived. Upon arrival to the Forest of Moonstone, they immediately seeked an audience with the druid that had taught Tharivol everything he knew. The slender elf advised them against their plan; they simply weren’t powerful enough to face the dangers of Shadowfell at this point in time. Instead, he proposed a different alternative.

The next steps were quite easy. They would wait until the new moon, which was, coincidentally, that same night. They’d hold a ritual to open a portal between the planes and bring back Orfuel from the terrible place he had been banished to. The eldest, most powerful cleric from the Circle, a halfling cleric named Portia, would guide them through the ritual, and they’d all have to contribute, each in their own time whenever Eddie prompted them to act. Between conversations and preparations, it was getting late, and so Eddie proposed a little bathroom break before the ritual began, which the boys accepted gratefully, cans of soda littering the table. Dottie inched her chair towards him, voice low like she was about to tell him a secret.

“So,” she began.

“So,” he said, curiosity piqued.

“I talked to Chrissy today and she invited me to a party.”

“Did she now?”

“Nancy and I are going.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t know you were interested in that.”

“I’m not but Nancy asked me to and I dunno, it could be fun. Our last senior year party,” Dottie said in a dramatic tone. “You’re going too, right? Chrissy said she invited you and the guys.”

“She did, but I-” he scratched his neck. “I’m gonna be honest with you, darling, I don’t really like those parties very much. I go to them, I sell a few ounces, and then we go to Jeff’s for a movie night.”

“But Chrissy wants us there, she said that all seniors should go. Please, Ed?” she pleaded, eyes rounded with weaponized innocence. “I like hanging out with Nancy but I’d feel so much better about going if I knew you were gonna be there too.”

Eddie sighed. I am so whipped for her and she knows it, he thought before turning to their other friends who were refilling the snack bowls while the freshmen got more sodas.

“Gentlemen!” he called, making Gareth, Jeff, and Donny look at him. “Princess here has a request.”

“What’s up?” Donny asked, sliding into his seat next to hers.

“Nancy and I are going to Chrissy’s party tomorrow night. I want you guys to go with us too,” she said, and the boys instantly laughed.

“Dot, we can’t go to Jason Carver’s house,” Gareth said between chuckles. “He hates us.”

“And also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one invites the freaks to parties,” Jeff added.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. The party is at Carver’s house, yes, but-” Eddie put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of scrap paper with girly writing on it. “-Chrissy Cunningham is planning it. We got an invite this time, fellow weirdos.”

“Chrissy invited you to her party?” Gareth asked in disbelief.

“I believe she invited us all.”

“She did,” Dottie said. “She told me she told Eddie to tell you we were all invited.”

“Those are too many uses of the verb to tell in one sentence,” Donny said, poking fun at her. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Okay, so, let me get this straight. Chrissy Cunningham, the Uncrowned Queen of Hawkins High, invited all of us to her party? And you’re actually going? With Nancy Wheeler of all people?” Gareth’s eyes were wide open.

“How much of a discount have you been giving her?” Jeff joked, implying something less illegal than simply selling her weed, but also dirtier was going on between them.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie threw a ball of paper at his head. “She’s a friend, and she invited Dottie too. In person, not through me.”

“Yeah, Nancy and I ran into her in the bathroom and she told us to come.”

“What is it with girls and bathrooms?” Gareth looked at Donny, the only other one at the table who had sisters. He shrugged in response.

“So? Are we all going? If it sucks we can leave, but I just thought it’d be fun to, y’know, do something different for once,” Dottie said with a hopeful smile.

“Okay, I’m in,” Donny announced.

“Dude!” Jeff and Gareth looked at him like he had betrayed them.

“Oh, come on! It’s now or never, we’re never gonna see these assholes again after graduation. And you know those rich kids always have so much beer at their parties. Are you really gonna say no to free booze?”

“Okay, when you put it like that…,” Gareth conceded. “I’ll go if we all go.”

“Ditto,” said Jeff.

“Guess we’re going to Jason Carver’s house tomorrow night, boys,” Eddie said, reluctantly.

“It’s gonna be awesome, you’ll see,” said Dottie, right as Dustin, Mike, and Erica rejoined the group and settled for the next part of the adventure.

“If everyone’s ready,” Dustin looked around the table at his friends after a lengthy discussion. “-we go to the clearing.”

“You come into the clearing right before midnight and you see everyone sitting on the grass, making a big circle around a huge oak tree. This is where Tharivol’s Circle prays to Silvanus, The Oak Father, the God of Wild Nature. You can feel energy underneath your feet, coming up your legs and into your chest as you approach everyone else. This place is sacred, and the people here are willing to help you rescue your innocent friend. Do not take their kindness for granted,” Eddie narrated, solemn voice ringing through the tension in the room. “Portia is standing next to the base of the tree in beautiful, shiny robes, her long silver hair blowing in the breeze. She beckons you to come closer.”

“We go to her,” Erica said, firmly.

“The old halfling lady instructs you to sit at her feet where the tree’s roots come out of the dirt. She looks at her Circle and begins her speech,” Eddie held his head high as he embodied Portia with a mystic drawl. “Children of Silvanus. We are gathered here tonight to help our very own Tharivol and his allies restore order and balance to where chaos and injustice has spread. Pray with us. Let Silvanus help them return a lost friend home,” in his normal voice, Eddie continued. “Portia turns around and with her staff, she draws a line into the earth where the portal will appear, if, and only if you succeed.”

“Hang on, Portia is opening a portal?” Jeff said, holding in a chuckle.

“Portia the Portal Lady,” Dustin muttered, and Mike next to him snorted loudly.

“You’re killing the fuckin’ mood,” Gareth complained, kicking Jeff who sat opposite him.

“Moving on, please,” Erica rolled her eyes and motioned at Eddie to continue. He bowed his head in acknowledgement and carried on with his narration.

“Portia starts praying loudly in a language you don’t quite understand. At first, you think she might be praying in Elven but you quickly realize she’s praying in Sylvan, the language of the fey,” Eddie said, tense silence falling over the room once again. “Tharivol,” he looked at Jeff. “You recognize a few words and it sounds like she’s requesting access to a kingdom, to a place called Shadowfell. She’s asking the Raven Queen for help in rectifying a wrong that has happened within her realm. I want you all to tell me what you do to help Portia during the ritual.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” asked Jeff.

“They are still sitting in a circle while they pray.”

“I’m gonna pray to Silvanus too then.”

“Go ahead. Let me hear what you say to him.”

“Oh, Silvanus, God of Wild Nature, Old Father Tree,” Jeff began, in character as Tharivol with his head bowed, eyes closed and hands clasped above the table. “Orfuel saved my life once. Let me return the favor. Let me repay the kindness he showed me by righting what is wrong in his name. Let him come home to us. Let him live long and prosper.”

“Damn,” said Gareth under his breath. It was showtime at the Hellfire Club, and everyone was taking it seriously.

“I’m gonna pray to Moradin for assistance,” Erica said as Boldhild. “I’m gonna invoke my Oath, and say: Fight the Greater Evil. No Mercy for the Wicked. By Any Means Necessary. Retribution. I honor these values today, and tomorrow. In your name, Moradin, the All-Father.”

“I’ll pray too,” Dottie joined them as Holly. “I’m going to lay down my quarterstaff, my symbol of Lathander touching the earth, and I’m gonna call out to him for help like they did.”

“You can do better than that, darling,” Eddie crossed his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Show me how you commune with your god.”

“O-okay,” she said, attributing her nerves to the expectation of performing an impromptu prayer in front of everyone and definitely not because of the sultry voice Eddie was talking to her with. She bowed her head and began praying. “Lathander, I come to you as a child of the light to ask you for aid in a time of need. My siblings in arms are asking Silvanus and Moradin to come together and help, but I fear their calls might go unanswered. Morninglord, I beg of you, take pity on us. Take pity on Orfuel, who has been banished to the plane of shadows. Take pity on those who cannot walk in your light like we do every new dawn, and please let us be joyous when the morning comes.”

There was the sense in the room that this wasn’t just a regular end of a campaign. They could feel it in the way Eddie had guided the session so far: minimal combat, heavy on the roleplay, distinctively interested in character growth. He was gearing up to something, and from the looks of it, it was going to be something big. With the understanding of a party that trusts their DM to bring a satisfying story to life, they gave themselves to him freely and wholeheartedly. This wasn’t just the end of an adventure. This was the end of Eddie’s reign as the leader of the Hellfire Club and he deserved a proper farewell.

“I-,” said Mike, gearing up to join his friends in the ritual as Mozikith. “I don’t think I can pray to Asmodeus for help, I mean… Doesn’t really feel right. So I’m gonna give Silvanus an offering instead.”

“What kind of offering do you wish to give him?” asked Eddie.

“Uh, a blood offering? My own blood.”

“No!” cried Jeff. “Offerings to Silvanus can’t be blood sacrifices. You have to destroy something made out of wood or wooden materials and bury it.”

“Okay, well, uh- Do I even own something made out of wood?” Mike wondered aloud as he looked down at his inventory notes.

“You have your staff,” Dustin suggested in a sheepish tone.

“Can… Can I break my staff and still keep my arcane stone?” he looked at his DM.

“I’ll allow it but you can’t cast spells simply holding the stone. You either get a new staff or do something with it, like put it inside a locket,” warned Eddie.

“It’s fine. I won’t need it anymore anyways,” Mike reasoned. “I’m gonna break my staff in two and bury it under where the portal is supposed to be created.”

“Me too,” said Gareth, making Despair join the sacrifice. “I’m gonna add my javelins to his pile.”

“How many?”

“All four of them.”

“Very well,” Eddie smiled. “Anyone else has something they’d like to add?”

“I want to offer something to the Raven Queen in exchange for her to let us through,” said Dustin as Seebo.

“Oh?”

“She collects trinkets, right?”

“That she does, Seebo. What do you have to offer to her?” Eddie leaned forward. “It has to be something interesting, remember, she doesn’t exactly care too much about cheap junk.”

“I want to offer her my father’s ring.”

A few sharp gasps could be heard as Dustin held Eddie’s eyes as if he was challenging him to say no. Everyone at the table knew what that ring meant to Dustin’s character. The heavy brass ring was all he had to remember his parents by after a war had left him and his ten younger siblings as orphans, begging on the streets for a small mercy until Orfuel taught him to run petty scams and pickpocket. At first he’d been reluctant but he had ten mouths to feed and couldn’t afford to pity those who had so much more than he did. Dustin placed a tacky ring he’d gotten at a yard sale in the middle of the table. Trust him to always keep props on his body for D&D related purposes.

“Okay, I’ll take it. Let’s see if she does too,” Eddie accepted his token.

“I’ll offer her a memory,” added Donny as Odorr. “I know she collects those too.”

“Which memory are you offering to the Raven Queen, dearest Odorr?”

“I want to give to her the night I burned down my village. That’s why I was a hermit until Orfuel found me,” he turned to the table to explain. “I was exiled as a kid because I couldn’t control my Wild Magic and set a barn on fire. It spread to the rest of the village so they said I was a danger and casted me out.”

“Shit,” Erica said, impressed that he’d kept his origin secret for so long. “Did you kill someone or what?”

“No, but I hurt a lot of people. It’s in the past now.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Dottie told him sincerely. Odorr had been her first friend on the campaign, and she cared for him like he was a real person. Donny squeezed her hand as a thank you.

“Okay, are we ready to proceed? Good. Since everyone has played their part in the ritual, I’ll explain how this is going to work,” Eddie brought them back to the game. “I’m gonna ask Tharivol to make an Arcana check, with advantage. To that you’re gonna add 1d6 of Inspiration for each member of your party, so that’s 6d6.”

“Can I roll Religion instead of Arcana? Since I’m praying to Silvanus,” Jeff bargained.

“Sure. Roll in front of everyone.”

Jeff grabbed 2d20 and breathed deeply, calming his nerves. He shook the dice in his hands, letting them fall to the tabletop, the two green and gold flecked pieces of plastic glinting in the moody lighting Eddie had set for the evening.

“18 and 19,” he announced.

“I’m guessing we’re starting with 19. Mozikith, if you will,” Eddie prompted Mike to start the inspiration dice rolls.

“Wait!” Dottie interrupted. “I want to cast Guidance on Tharivol.”

“Remind me again what that does, princess?”

“You touch one willing creature. Once before the spell ends, the target can roll a d4 and add the number rolled to one ability check of its choice. It can roll the die before or after making the ability check. The spell then ends,” she read with a smile. “You told me the other day that I always use the same two cantrips so I’m using a new one today.”

“I need to stop teaching you things if you’re gonna use them against me,” Eddie grumbled, but deep down was proud that she listened to his advice so intently. “Fine, Tharivol, add a d4.”

“Thank you,” Jeff said to Dottie and rolled. “2.”

“We’re at 21. Mozikith, please.”

“Shit,” Mike said. “That’s a 2.”

“We’re at 23. Seebo, your turn.”

“Fuck. Sorry guys, that’s gonna be a one,” Dustin mumbled angrily.

“Tough start. We’re at 24. Boldhild?”

“Four!” Erica cheered.

“We go up to 28! Despair, you go.”

“Please, please, please,” Gareth whispered. “SIX!”

“34! Odorr’s turn now.”

“Fuck yeah! That’s a six!” Donny punched the air excitedly. Everyone started becoming antsy but hopeful.

“We’re at 38. Holly, please.”

“Four?” Dottie said, timidly.

“That brings us to 42. Everyone in the clearing starts humming as Portia continues praying. Seebo, the ring in your hand begins burning until you can’t stand the heat anymore and drop it. It sinks into the earth beneath you as a gash appears where the line in the dirt was drawn,” Eddie began describing, his players waiting with bated breaths for confirmation of their success. “Tharivol, you feel a surge of magic from deep inside you, like a gentle warmth crawling up from your feet all the way up and into your chest. You see the oak tree begins glowing in the moonlight.”

“Holy shit,” Jeff said.

“The ground beneath you begins to shake and suddenly, Odorr, you feel a piercing pain in your head, like a needle pushing right in the middle of your forehead between your tiny horns. You fall to your knees in agony and see that the gash begins opening more, revealing fog on the other side.

“It’s working!” Dustin cried, and Mike shushed him immediately.

“Holly, you see your Lathander holy symbols begin to shine. First, it’s the one attached to your staff. Then, your armlet. It feels warm, like sunshine seeping into your skin on a cool day. The gash keeps opening and opening until it becomes a shadowy circle right in front of you. The pain in Odorr’s head stops,” Eddie said theatrically, making a pause for dramatic effect. “The DC you had to beat… was 40.”

“WE DID IT!” Erica screeched, and everyone began yelling at the same time.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, you piece of shit!” Donny yelled.

“Fuck, that was close,” moaned Dustin, bracing himself against the table, tension finally leaving his body.

“Congratulations, adventurers. You’ve just opened a portal to Shadowfell,” Eddie laughed, throwing his head back.

“Do we go in now? How does this work?” Dottie asked, wanting to continue the story.

“You have to speak the name of a creature and they’ll be sucked in through the portal towards your plane.”

“What was Orfuel’s last name?” Gareth looked at Jeff.

“Evensorrow,” said Mike.

“We call for Orfuel Evensorrow to come back to the material plane,” Jeff said, back in action.

“You see a shadow moving behind the fog, it seems like it’s fighting back the tendrils. Call out to him again, all of you,” Eddie instructed.

“Orfuel! Orfuel!” everyone began chanting. “Orfuel, it’s us! Stop fighting back!”

“The creature becomes prone when it hears your voices and lets itself be dragged into the material plane. A dirty human man lays at your feet, gasping for air after the shadowy vines retreat. Portia loses strength and the portal closes itself, severing the connection to Shadowfell.”

“I catch her before she falls,” Mike said quickly.

“Thank you, dearie,” Eddie said in a pitiful voice that belonged to an old frail lady. He continued in his normal voice. “Portia is okay, she just needs to rest.”

“We go to help Orfuel then,” Gareth looked at his friends, who nodded in agreement.

“Orfuel is a shell of the man you all used to know. His hair is long and matted, his beard is graying at the edges. He has dark circles under his eyes and looks like he hasn’t had a drink of water in days. He tries to speak, but his voice doesn’t come out.”

“I give him my water bottle,” Erica said.

“He drinks half of your waterskin in a rush and now that he feels better he looks at everyone surrounding him with fearful eyes,” Eddie began trembling, like it took a toll on his body to even utter a single syllable. “He’s coming. We have to- we have to hide. He’s coming.”

“Mask’s coming?” Donny asked.

“Mask’s just a pawn,” Eddie scoffed. “Orcus is coming.”

“Who’s Orcus?” Dottie looked around the table.

“The Lord of the Undead,” Dustin said, wary. “He’s the master of the undead that live in The Abyss. He wants to exterminate all life on every plane of existence until only his undead soldiers remain.”

“Wait, what do you mean Orcus is coming?” Erica asked Eddie, but really, it was Boldhild asking Orfuel.

“Mask knows Orcus hates the Raven Queen, so they made a deal. Mask kills the Raven Queen, and he becomes the keeper of Shadowfell for Orcus. Dedlock gave me up as a sacrifice to grow Mask’s power.”

“Shit. What do we do now?” Donny asked everyone else in the room.

“We fight back,” Dustin said, like it was obvious. “First we go for Dedlock and the Circle of the Gray Ribbon. Then we go for Mask.”

“And then…,” Mike mused. “We go into The Abyss.”

“And that’s where we’ll end our session,” Eddie said, and everyone groaned in protest.

“What the fuck, man?!”

“You said this session was the last one!”

“That’s such a non-ending, what is wrong with you?”

Eddie laughed and looked at his friends who kept begging him for more. More stories, more adventures, more guidance. They weren’t asking for entertainment. They were looking for more friendship. He moved to lower down his DM screen and hauled his prop box onto the table. Everyone stared at him curiously, wondering what trick he was gonna pull out of his metaphorical hat next. He simply reached in and grabbed two pins, putting them on the table: one said Chapter Leader, and the other said Dungeon Master. He’d had the first one for three years, and the second one for longer. He looked up at his club members with shiny eyes, and Dottie thought he’d never looked more at peace than in that moment.

“As you all know, my beloved sheep, I’m hoping I finally get to graduate this year. I don’t know if I am just yet, but in any case, this is my last session as Hellfire’s very own DM and leader. There’s more story to tell in this campaign, but I won’t be doing it here, on this throne, in this props room that always smells a little bit like glue,” he smiled when everyone huffed in agreement. “We’re going to take a break from this adventure until Dustin comes back from his nerd camp for geniuses-”

“Hey!” Dustin protested, but he looked proudly at Eddie while he did it.

“If you still want to find out what happens next after all that, I’ll be more than pleased to keep the action going outside of school grounds. But! A king shouldn’t rule over their kingdom forever, and it’s time for me to pass the crown onto the next generation. Wheeler, Henderson, please,” he motioned to the side. The freshmen followed him a few steps away from the table where Eddie dropped to one knee and bowed regally. “Michael Wheeler, you are Hellfire’s new Dungeon Master. I trust that the tales you tell will always be as grand as Mike the Magnificent was under my reign.”

“Woah,” Mike said when Eddie presented the Dungeon Master pin to him. “Eddie, this is- thanks, man.”

“Dustin Henderson,” Eddie continued, looking into the hopeful eyes of the kid he so very much admired. “The crown is too heavy for one man to wear alone, so I am choosing you to be the next Chapter Leader of the Hellfire Club. May you be as brave as Dustin the Daring was when he was under my wing.”

“I-” Dustin managed to get out before he launched himself across the floor and tackled Eddie into a tight hug.

“I won’t disappoint you, Eddie, I swear to god-”

But there was no need for him to promise anything, because Eddie knew that Hellfire was in safe hands with the two boys that had gone from looking at him like he was their Lord and Savior to simply calling him a friend. And as Eddie said goodbye to his time in high school, he was so grateful that even if he hadn’t learned a single thing valuable within those walls, he had come out of it with a group of people that he could always count on when life got too rough to handle on his own.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

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