Chapter Text
Non-conformity has always been an integral part of the Eddie Munson Doctrine. He is nothing, if not individual. So, it's no surprise that he would reject the hive-mind mentality like a failed organ transplant.
—
From his own cold dead lips, Eddie emerges as a sputter of dust, dancing in the murky air.
That's all he is now. Dust. Same as all that other nasty shit floating around in the Upside Down. And yet… he still thinks, sees, feels.
He feels…
It would be impossible to describe what exactly he feels as he looks down at his own lifeless eyes, and his slightly parted mouth, slick with blood, spewing everything that makes Eddie Eddie out in a dark cloud of smoke.
What he does feel though, undeniably, is a pull, like a siren song, drawing him out from his deflated lungs.
A dark cloud like himself, but monstrous in size, with long spider-like arms, looms over the barren landscape and beckons him to join - to become One.
He is helpless to the call at first, the exhaustion of defeat like iron shackles. The scattered remains of him drift far from his corpse, to merge with the commanding form above.
At once, he is enveloped within the eldritch being. And at once, he can see it all. He can see every decrepit root and vine snaking its way through the pits of hell and the waking world. He peers through the eyes of every monster that has the audacity to exist, and feels their instinct to rip, as strongly as if it's his own.
He sees Vecna, a shadow of his former self–not even a man, but more like a… a pulsating fetus of wriggling worms, hooked up to some sort of fleshy life support system. Objectively disgusting and abhorrent, and yet a phantom voice in his head whispers elegant… beautiful.
Despite being completely unrecognizable, Eddie just knows it's Vecna. He knows it is him like he knows his own name.
Eddie panics as he rapidly starts to lose himself. The lovecraftian horror—the hive—wants to assimilate him. Some particles that were once Eddie change their allegiance; like cowards, they run away from him, to be repurposed elsewhere, for the greater good.
The greater good, in the hive mind, is clear: consume, destroy, dominate.
How much of him has already been lost, doomed to carry out this thing's horrific designs? Hopefully, only the worst parts of him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!
Thrashing, he scrambles to pull himself together. He refuses to let a single other part of himself submit. The hive fights back, yanking at his essence. Eddie’s consciousness threatens to tear at the seams, but he manages to hold on.
Something that doesn't belong to him, laughs. The ripping sensation stops and he knits back together. It tosses him aside, speaking wordlessly.
Don't need you. Puny. Defective. Worthless.
The hive ignores him now, and he is cut off from its all-seeing eye. Eddie is just a gnat circling its head, shunned by something he never wanted to be a part of in the first place. Eddie the Banished. What else is new?
He wills himself forward, finding he can control the direction, looking a bit like a swarm of bees, he imagines. He flies around in a couple loops for practice. He has this weird 360 degree vision thing going on that is insanely bizarre.
Before he can make his escape and zoom away to who-knows-where, something catches his attention. It's so small, it's a miracle he doesn't miss it.
At the outermost edge of the hive, a lone particle reaches out to him, quivering, scared, and curious. Maybe it's a piece of him, regretting its decision and trying to reunite.
As he cautiously flies closer, Eddie realizes it isn't a part of himself after all. It is however, something he recognizes. Someone.
Chrissy.
A tiny part of Chrissy is reaching out to him. He just knows it's her, with that same supernatural certainty as before.
With no mouth to speak from, Eddie has to hope they can communicate telepathically.
Chrissy! Chrissy, it's me! It's Eddie! Can you hear me?
The speck - Chrissy, moves closer, straining against some invisible string tethering her to the swarm.
He tries to bring her in, wrap her up into his space.
I may look a little different now, but you remember me this time, don't you? Of course you do.
Chrissy dances in recognition.
There you are, beautiful. I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry for leaving you. I'm going to get you out of here. We're going to stick together this time.
Violently, Chrissy is torn from him, sucked deep into the belly of the beast.
He would scream, if he could. Every part of him shakes with outrage at the thought of Chrissy, a complete innocent in all of this bullshit, being thrown around like a ragdoll. Again! Just like- like when she-
Thrown around like she is nothing.
Eddie dives back into the hive to save her, but is spat back out like a bad taste.
Again, he tries to follow her, but he smacks into some kind of magnetic force field which propels him back.
The hive turns on him, rising high above, its many arms unfurling in a display of dominance. The air itself quakes like the roar of a beast, as the sky cracks with lightning. It leaves Eddie feeling significantly cowed. But he would rather be obliterated than run away when Chrissy needs him. He will not make that same mistake twice.
So, fuck it!
He dives-
And is promptly slammed back into the ground.
Eddie is a shaking whirl, clinging to the earth like fog in a cemetery, powerless as he watches the vast form soar away over the horizon, taking Chrissy with it.
He isn't strong enough to save her. At least, not on his own…
This isn't over.
If dust clouds could limp, that's what Eddie does, towards the glowing fissure in the road nearby. He half expects it to burn him up, or laugh like a gaping maw at his attempts to escape this hell.
But, he slips quietly and unassuming into the world that wanted him dead and got its wish. Hawkins.
—
By the look of things, Eddie is somewhere in Loch Nora - home of one Steve Harrington. Eddie only knows this because it's the richest neighborhood in town, and because he maybe used to sell drugs at house parties, on occasion.
It's definitely an option worth considering… break into the Harrington manor, knock over a few priceless heirlooms, and scare the hair right off Harrington's head. But Eddie isn't sure he would recognize the house; all these gaudy mansions look the same to him. And, he figures, Harrington would be more likely to attack him with a fly swatter than help him out.
So, new plan.
Where the hell does that butthead live, again? Typically, Dustin has to give directions when Eddie drives him home.
Every! Single! Time! Dustin would complain. What if there's an emergency one day and you need to find my house?
And Eddie would counter: Like that would ever happen.
Little twerp always had to be right, didn’t he?
Eddie is fully prepared to sneak his way through the streets of Hawkins (ducking behind trash cans like some kind of feral animal), but when he flies around the corner onto the main drive, he comes to a halt, mid-air.
Hawkins is in ruins. It is torn to shreds. Another huge, glowing fissure blocks the road ahead, and dark plumes of smoke and fire pollute the sky. Particles of dust float around; they trickle through him, whispering of the hive, making him shudder.
This is what he died for.
His heroics accomplished approximately zero, apparently. Figures.
Hugging himself a little closer together, Eddie soldiers on.
By some miracle, he does manage to find Dustin’s house. It's hard to miss once he comes across it - it’s the one with the tacky cat-shaped mailbox.
Faced with the front door, Eddie thinks: sure, why not? I’m basically a ghost, and tests his theory that he can fly through walls. And-
He cannot fly through walls. Noted.
Open window it is, then. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Clumsy, even in death, Eddie crashes into a stack of plastic cups drying on the kitchen counter, sending them clattering to the floor.
He hears footsteps approaching. “Dusty? Is that you?-”
Shit! Eddie flees in the opposite direction.
“JUST GRABBING SOME THINGS MA!!!” Dustin screeches, at an unnecessary volume from the room ahead. “STEVE’S COMING BACK TO GET ME!!!”
“WHO?!” Momma Henderson bellows in return. Turns out, the volume was necessary.
“STEVE!!!!”
Eddie manages to slip through the crack of the open door and hide behind a laundry basket, watching Dustin shove a random assortment of items into a duffle bag. He seems to hesitate with his Monster Manual, and places it on the bed.
“OHHH!! WELL, TELL STEVEN I SAY HI, DEAR!”
“YUP! WIIIILL DO!” Damn kid has a set of pipes.
How should he play this? Surely he can't just pop out, like tada! He has to communicate, somehow, that it’s him.
Eddie zips past Dustin’s face, eliciting a startled, “HOLY SHIT!”
“DUSTY?”
“I’M FINE! IT’S FINE!” Dustin whips his head around, arms in a kung-fu stance, and spots Eddie circling the framed Hellfire group photo on the desk.
The kid blinks owlishly at him.
Come on, Henderson. Insight check! It's just your good pal Eddie, back from the dead!
“RAAAAAHHHH!!!!” Dustin charges at him with a pillow.
Shit! Shit! Oh, come on! This is so stupid-
Eddie has to dodge the incoming assault, knocking over the picture frame in the process. It lands face-down on the floor with a loud crack.
Mission completely abandoned in an instant, Dustin drops to his knees, and winces.
“No, no no…” he carefully picks up the picture, shattered glass spilling out.
Eddie peers at Dustin through the slats of the closet door, which he is now cowering inside.
Dustin lets out a broken sob, his back hunched over. “What more do you want?” He is sniffling, but his voice is sharp. “Haven't you already taken enough? Or did you just come here to gloat?”
And Eddie’s heart breaks—wherever his heart is. He thinks back to their terrible final moments, their final words, and searches desperately for a way to say, without speaking, I’m right here, man.
At the sound of the closet door creaking open, Dustin’s attention snaps to Eddie. There are tears streaming down his face. The angry tirade visible on the tip of Dustin’s tongue is silenced by shock as he takes in the sight of the floating Hellfire shirt.
If Eddie knows anything, it's how to put on a good show, so he maneuvers the sleeve and gives a floppy little wave.
Dustin’s knee nearly gives out in his urgency to stand up.
“Don’t-" his chin wobbles. "You’re not him. That’s not funny.”
Eddie lets the arm of the shirt drop. He contemplates for a second, before bringing it across the chest.
Cross my heart.
“E-Eddie?” Dustin chokes, and Eddie flails the arms of the shirt in celebration.
Hesitantly, Dustin inches closer. “Please let this be you. Please don't be a trick, or some terrible hallucination from grief or something, I’ll be so mad...”
Eddie mimes a guitar solo in response. Most metal concert ever.
“EDDIE!!!!” Dustin once again charges at him, this time with the intent of a hug. The moment Dustin’s arms circle his - shoulders? - the shirt slumps to the ground. Dustin trips a little, catching himself on the bed, and clutching at his knee, an injury that is certainly Eddie’s fault. He will have to find some way to communicate an apology. Or a hundred apologies.
“I can’t believe it,” Dustin’s eyes are huge and wondrous, “Eddie, you- you died.” He reaches out to him, hand shaking, and Eddie wraps himself around it, causing Dustin to let out a watery chuckle.
“...Tickles.”
The boy breaks down again, slumping on the bed and covering his face with his hands as he cries. Eddie stays with him, pressing against his side.
"You goddamn asshole… I thought I lost you!"
There is so much he wants to say. He settles for ruffling through Dustin's hair. Dustin laughs through sniffles and swats at him.
A car horn blares outside, breaking the soft moment.
"Shit!" Dustin exclaims, jumping up from the bed. He shoves the Monster Manual into his duffle and zips it up. "Steve's here! We gotta go!"
Dustin cocks an eyebrow at Eddie. Then, he shrugs, limps to his desk, and grabs a jar filled with coins. Confused, Eddie gives Dustin a wide berth as he dumps the coins out on the bed.
"Get in!"
The empty jar stares at him expectantly.
Nuh uh. Nooooo way.
Dustin just rolls his eyes at him when he doesn't move. "Listen, Eddie. Things are bad out there. We're all meeting up to discuss the plan. Steve's waiting for us. So, get in the jar."
Nope. Not gonna happen.
Moving slowly towards Eddie like he is an easily spooked animal, Dustin gives the jar a little wiggle, which Eddie imagines is supposed to look inviting. It doesn't.
"Just…" Dustin’s voice is an octave higher than usual, "get in the jar!"
Another loud honk, and Dustin lunges at Eddie for the third time today, narrowly missing him with the glass prison. And now, Eddie is being chased around the room like a goddamn elusive firefly!
He clings to the ceiling, where Dustin can't reach. From above, Dustin's annoyance looks adorable, and Eddie does some taunting loop-de-loops.
"STEVE'S HERE, HONEY!" Momma Henderson calls, her voice approaching. "Do you want me to let him in?"
"NO!!" Dustin replies, too quickly. "I'LL BE RIGHT OUT!" He gestures for Eddie to come down. Get. In. Jar.
Eddie cautiously flies down, playing nice. He then flies from side to side, in what he hopes translates as him shaking his head.
With a heavy sigh, Dustin makes an offer, "I'll poke some holes in the top."
Hardly a compromise.
"Please, man? It's just for the drive! I don't want to…" Dustin's face crumples, and a haunted look clouds his eyes. "I don't want to lose you again or something. On the way there. Or whatever… I don't know. It's probably stupid..."
Motherf-
Low blow, kid. Really lay on the guilt. Eddie already regrets his decision as he flies up and down, nodding in resignation.
Dustin wastes no time. He procures a small pocket knife from his duffle and gouges a few holes in the lid. Eddie reluctantly squeezes himself in there. And it really is a squeeze once the lid pops closed - almost suffocating. He has to swirl himself around, to not feel completely restrained.
A third honk sounds, longer, and slightly muffled by the walls of the jar. Jesus Christ, King Steve needs to learn how to relax. That must be where Henderson gets his impatience from.
"Thanks, Eddie," Dustin sighs, relieved. He throws the duffle over his shoulder and holds Eddie close to his heart. "Just until we get there. Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you!"
—
"Dustin! I told you we're in a rush! It… what the hell is that?" Steve demands, the minute they slip into the backseat. His dumb hair is sticking up at odd angles, like he's been running his hands through it the entire time he waited.
Robin turns back from the passenger seat and gawks at them too. "Um. I second that question!"
"Okay, so… don't freak out…" Dustin warns, "I can explain!”
Steve's bug-eyes are glued to the jar - to Eddie. "Uhhhhh, I think that ship has sailed, man!” Steve says, totally freaking out, "because it looks to me like you adopted a new pet from the Upside Down, which-"
"No, no, no! Steve-"
"-need I remind you? The last one ate your cat, and almost killed me!"
Okay so, Eddie definitely needs to hear the rest of that story-
"It's not a pet! It's Eddie!"
The car goes silent.
Both Steve and Robin's faces fall. They exchange glances, their twin expressions full of concern and poorly concealed pity.
"Dustin…" Steve begins carefully. Dustin is already shaking his head, sensing where this is going. "I know you miss Eddie. I do too."
Hah! Harrington misses him? Right, sure…
It's honestly criminal that Eddie can't speak up to tease him about what is obviously just an attempt to placate the kid.
Oh, you missed me, sweetheart? I didn't know you cared so much!
The look on his face would be priceless.
"We all miss him," Robin adds softly.
Be still my not-so-beating heart, Buckley. You too?
"But Eddie…" Steve continues, oddly choked up, "He's gone, man. You know that.”
“I was there, Steve.” Dustin huffs, “I’m not a headcase.”
“Whoa, hey! I’m not saying yo-”
“Listen! This isn’t some messed up grief thing! Okay? It’s Eddie!”
Properly exasperated now, Steve scrubs his hands over his face. “How do you know it’s him, and not just some evil thing tricking you into thinking it’s him? Or just, like, some random Upside Down stuff?”
It would be irrational to be offended by that. And yet.
“I just know.”
Steve's lips tighten into a thin line. He turns to Robin, pleadingly, “Rob, a little help here?”
“Wh-what?” Robin startles out of her trance, and Eddie realizes she had been staring at him this whole time. She shakes her head to process Steve's request and then shrugs, noncomitally, “I mean… we can’t totally rule out the possibility, right?”
Thank you, Buckley! Eddie knew he liked her for a reason.
“Exactly!” Dustin says, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t run a few tests to confirm-”
No thank you, to the tests. What kind of tests?!
“-and he’s not doing any harm just sitting in the jar, is he? Look at him!” Dustin holds the jar out, pouting a little in consideration, “He’s kind of cute like this!”
“He is!" Robin agrees.
Eddie swirls around as fast as he can, putting on a show for his admirers. Robin makes a delighted little noise at the sight, while Dustin grins. Steve just wrinkles his nose.
“Okay,” Steve scoffs flatly, pushing the jar away, “Just, keep it away from me, and - you know, keep a lid on it.” He puts the car into gear, and turns back one more time, wagging his finger at Dustin. “Tight!”
–
Honestly, Eddie is a little pissed.
If the group had access to a cabin this whole time, why didn't they let Eddie hide out there while he was on the lam? Like, it's barely standing, sure, but it is remote.
"Okay, that's everyone!" Nancy says as they walk inside. The small property is at full capacity. Most people, Eddie recognizes, some he doesn't. And is that-
The chief of police? Evidently back from the dead, 100 pounds lighter, and sporting a buzz cut? Nothing should surprise him at this point.
Nancy spots the jar. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
The chatter in the room dies down as everyone takes a moment to stare.
"Uhhh…?" Mike Wheeler, ever the wordsmith, pipes up. He squints at Eddie, mouth gaping like a fish. "New pet?"
"Jesus. No! It's-" Before Dustin can explain further, Nancy waves it off.
"No time! We'll… circle back to that."
Dustin places Eddie down on a table, front and center. He won't miss a minute of the madness from here. And of course, he is on full display for anyone to gawk at him, including some guy with long hair Eddie has never seen before, who is clearly stoned out of his mind, the lucky bastard. Eddie doesn't know if he can even get high anymore. Probably not.
The group takes turns discussing the situation, and sharing whatever knowledge they have. Eddie tries to keep up, but there is a lot of information.
Chief Hopper, who is not dead, but who was actually in a Russian prison this whole time, thinks that the dust somehow controls the creatures in the Upside Down, or gives them life.
Eddie isn't sure what that means for him in his current state, but he doesn't like the sound of it. Especially since Hopper looks like he has seen some shit and isn't afraid to kill anything that poses even a minor threat at this point.
Hopper also has a daughter(?), with a matching buzzcut, who is apparently the superhero girl everyone keeps talking about. She is dating Mike(??), and she lost her superpowers for a while, but got them back better than ever. Metal as hell. Eddie only wishes for a demonstration for a second before the kid drops a bombshell, addressing the notable absence in the crowd that he had somehow overlooked.
Max. Dear little Red.
Eddie's sacrifice was meant to buy the others more time, but it wasn’t enough to save Max. And now she is…
"Lost," Supergirl says. "Her body- her heart is beating. But Max… I can't find her."
“She has to be somewhere,” Lucas states with conviction, his voice breaking slightly. He looks run-down and exhausted - justifiably so. “If she’s not lost in her own mind, then maybe she’s out there! Maybe Vecna has her… in his mind!”
Supergirl’s expression hardens. “Wherever Max is, I will get her back. We will.”
“If he has her…” Lucas says gravely, “I'll kill him!”
Lady Applejack takes the opportunity to chime in. “And how do you plan on doing that exactly?”
“Erica! I swear to-”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Obviously we’re going to save your girlfriend. But we tried to kill him, okay? And it. Didn’t. Work. We need a plan. A better one. One that doesn’t end up with people in comas, or killed by bats.”
Everyone flinches at that and Eddie gets the surreal sense he's attending his own funeral.
Dustin clears his throat. “Actually, about that-”
“The plan,” Nancy refocuses the discussion, “is in motion. The plan is to regroup, consolidate our resources, and figure out Vecna’s next move."
"That's not a plan!" Mike complains, sounding an awful lot like he does in a typical D&D session. "We'd be sitting ducks! Why should we wait and give One the chance to strike us first? We have the advantage. El has her powers back–” something unreadable crosses Supergirl’s face at that comment, “and Will says One is weak right now." His voice softens, "Right, Will?"
Will Byers, the kid with the unfortunate haircut that Mike always talks about, who apparently was not lost in the woods back in ‘83, but was actually stuck in that hell, steps forward shyly. “He’s… licking his wounds right now,” he admits, a little reluctantly. His voice turns grave and serious, far beyond the boy's years, “but he’s still dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous. He'll return–stronger than ever. And when he does, he wants revenge. On all of us. On all of Hawkins. No… on the world."
Mike’s face turns white as a sheet as he takes this in, his plan to storm the gates clearly abandoned.
Steve, who up until this point had been silently standing in the background, mutters a sarcastic, “Great. That’s great.”
Valuable input there, King Steve.
“And he’s hiding somewhere I can't reach.” Will continues with a faraway gaze.
“Me either,” says Supergirl.
“We won’t find him,” Will leaves no room for argument. “Not until he wants to be found.”
“Well, we have to try-” Lucas argues “I say we comb through the Upside Down inch by inch! Tear it apart if we have to! He has to be in there somewhere. We need to get back in there and kill the bastard! Wherever he is hiding!”
“We can't just burst in there unprepared,” Nancy asserts. “We need firepower. And El needs to gain strength. Vecna will be in hiding for a while. So the plan still stands- ”
“We need to hide too,” Jonathan adds, seriously. “It’s not just monsters we have to worry about. Jane- uh, El is being hunted down by some government people, they chased us out of Cali.”
“With guns and everything,” the dude with long hair adds.
“Wait,” Chief Hopper pushes himself up out of his chair, “so my daughter is being hunted, and no one thought to tell me this sooner?!” He quickly starts gathering his stuff, while Momma Byers (who seems to have a thing with the chief), attempts to calm him down. “We need to get off the grid. Now. Let’s go.”
Ignoring the overlapping protests and confusion in the room at the sudden shift, Hopper starts ushering Supergirl towards the door. He swings it open and—holy shit—it slams closed with a force that rocks the foundation.
“No.”
Supergirl is a damn fitting name.
“Come on, kid,” Hopper says urgently, “this place is five seconds away from becoming a quarantine zone. We have to get out of here before we’re surrounded.”
“I’m not leaving without finding Max. This… this all started because of me. I need to be here - to end it.”
“None of this is your fault, you hear me? Now, this is not a negotiation! We are getting you to safety. End of discussion!”
“You can’t make me go. If you want to go, you-" there is a painful beat of silence, "but I will stay here, to save my friends.”
There is clearly no changing her mind.
Hopper deflates at this, tears glistening in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without you, and you know that.” He pulls her into a hug, "Jesus, I just need you to be safe."
“You will train me," she sniffles into his chest, "I will get strong. I will be ready.”
"You want me to train you, huh?" Hopper lets out a big sigh and pulls back. He wipes her tears away and smiles at her sadly, "Fine… but don't think I'll go easy on you just 'cuz I'm your old man."
The girl's face crumples and she laughs before breaking down and burying herself back into his chest.
Joyce comes over to place a loving hand on Hopper's back. "We can all train," she says, sounding equal parts encouraging motherly figure and certified badass. "Strength in numbers."
"I for one," Robin speaks up, "have always wanted to learn how to build a bomb!"
"T-That's-" Nancy stammers.
"A terrible idea," Steve finishes her sentence.
Nancy and Steve exchange complicated looks, hardly able to maintain eye contact, before Nancy continues. "But we should. Ahem—train, I mean! All of us."
"Speaking of all of us-" Dustin tries-
But Robin seemingly can't help herself from derailing everything, saying "I really think we should consider my bomb idea…" which erupts the room into chaos anew, everyone arguing over weapons, training, tactics, blah, blah, blah blah blah…
"EVERYONE SHUT UP!!!" Dustin finally snaps, grabbing the room's attention. "It's my turn to speak now, okay? And I have been more than patient, especially considering how awesome my thing is."
"The floor is yours," a stunned Nancy gestures to the front of the room.
"Thank you," Dustin says primly, stepping into place next to Eddie.
Showtime?
This could go really wrong. Like really, really wrong. He's up against superheros and Nancy Wheeler's shotgun here.
"Listen," Dustin starts slowly, already anticipating push-back from the crowd, "what I'm about to tell you guys, might sound a little… crazy."
"Try a lot crazy…" Steve grumbles, and Robin smacks his arm.
"BUT—I'm telling you, it's real. And, it might just be the key to everything."
Let's not oversell things here, dude.
"Why didn't you lead with that?" Lady Applejack jeers.
"Well-"
Mike suddenly blurts out, "okay, just tell us! What's the deal with the jar?"
Eddie feels the weight of all the eyes in the room on him now. Some are wary, some quizzical, and some… hostile.
Dustin seems to sense this too, picking up the jar and cradling it protectively.
"Yeah…" Will says, his voice shaking, "it's been… watching us…"
The stoned guy rushes forward, shoving his face right up to the jar. "Whoaaa, how does it do that without any eyes?"
"Like Vecna watching us?" Lucas asks worriedly.
"No no no, just listen…" Dustin pulls Eddie further away from the weirdo pressing his face against the glass. Jonathan grabs the guy's arm and drags him away.
"Yeah… start explaining," Hopper warns, his suspicion increasing by the second, affecting the energy in the room, and putting everyone on edge.
"Okay. Okay." Dustin says, keeping his voice measured. He places Eddie back on the table, but steps in front of him. "The dust in the jar… isn't Vecna. He's a friend. He can help us."
"The dust is a friend?" Erica clearly isn't buying it. "How much of that crap did you inhale, exactly, Dusty?"
"A… a friend. What does that mean?" Joyce asks.
"He came to find me earlier," Dustin continues, "he- he's…"
"It's Eddie," Robin steps forward, providing Dustin with some much-needed backup.
Chaos ensues.
"What the hell, man?!" Mike is particularly pissed off about it. "First, I find out Eddie died saving everyone, and now you're telling me he's- he's what? In that jar over there? Are you kidding me?”
Nancy wears the same pitiful expression that Steve and Robin had in the car, "Dustin…"
"You don't think I know how it sounds?"
"It sounds crazy, we know," Robin pushes, "but what if? Since when did we start ruling things out for being too weird? Weird stuff happens every single day in Hawkins! We should at least consider the possibility."
"What, like we should consider your bomb idea?" Mike scoffs.
And heeeeere we go again.
Eddie's had enough of the bickering. He's had enough of being stuck in this fucking jar.
So, what's a sentient dust cloud to do, but push said jar off the table and smash it to bits?
Like most of Eddie's decisions, it is not well received.
The panic in the room barely registers before Supergirl lets out a banshee scream, holding her hand up like Darth Vader choking someone with the force, and Eddie-
Eddie finds himself slammed against the wall. And it isn't like some force pinning him there. Not exactly. It's more like…
It's like she commanded every particle of him to move, and he had no choice but to obey.
"STOP!" Dustin begs, "WAIT!!" Eddie can barely discern the shapes in front of him as things turn to black. He is vibrating, tearing at the seams again. Dustin shakes Supergirl loose from her concentration. "He's not going to hurt us! Just look!!"
Eddie is released from the thrall, and he lets himself float down to settle over the floor. The room comes back into focus and he is met with a sea of anxious faces, with Supergirl in the center, her expression serious, blood dripping from her nose.
He floats up carefully. They all stare at him like they're waiting for him to do something interesting.
When he moves an inch forward, the group flinches as a unit, everyone gripping their weapons. Several people step back, and several other people step forward protectively, including hero Steve brandishing a (seriously?) nail-studded baseball bat. He even pushes Supergirl behind him, like that makes any sense in this situation.
Jeez, tough crowd. How the hell is he supposed to convince a room full of traumatized people that he's not a threat?
He starts by moving back again, which causes a couple shoulders to relax. But not all of them.
And then he just sort of… sits there. Until it gets a little awkward actually.
"He doesn't…" Will considers him carefully, "he doesn't feel like One. He's from the Upside Down for sure… but… I don't know, he doesn't feel evil."
"How are we supposed to know it's him?" Steve asks nervously, still posed like he's about to hit a home-run.
"He can communicate with us!" Dustin prompts. "Up and down for yes, left and right for no. Right Eddie…?"
Hesitantly, Eddie moves up and down.
That gets a big reaction.
Everyone starts asking questions all at once and Eddie doesn't know where to start.
"One question at a time!" Nancy takes the reins. Everyone starts doing it again immediately. "Raise your hands!"
Every single person in the room raises their hand.
And thus begins a grueling hour of Q&A.
"Are you Eddie Munson?" Nancy starts with an easy one. Yes.
"Are you… dead?" Robin. Not so easy. Yes… and no.
There's a bunch of questions he can't even attempt to answer. Like:
"So what's it like, being all dusty and everything?" Stoned guy - Argyle, apparently. Eddie just says no to that one.
At some point, Steve sighs and puts his hand down, giving up on whatever question he had, because the kids have completely abandoned all decorum, and have started grilling Eddie on D&D stuff, asking him super specific questions about their campaign.
With all the super-specific questions though, it seems like everyone is much more on-board with the idea of him being him. Even Hopper, who asked him a question about the one time he busted Eddie, and Eddie led him on a footrace through the woods.
Once all questions have been seemingly explored, Steve's hand goes up, hesitant like before.
"Steve?" Nancy calls on him.
Steve opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He clears his throat and tries again. "Are you… Eddie, are you, like… okay?"
And, oh.
Eddie hadn't really had the chance to ask himself that yet…
The truth is… he's not. He's not okay. Of course he's not fucking okay. He's better than dead, but that's not saying much.
To answer Steve's question… no. He moves from side to side, just barely.
With the way the room sombers, Eddie is back to attending his own funeral.
“Well, we can't just leave him like this,” Steve says to the room, with enough sincerity that it actually floors Eddie for a moment.
In the silence that follows, Eddie barely has a chance to wrap his head around the fact that Steve might actually care about him, before someone speaks up.
“Of… course not,” Joyce says carefully - another person who by all accounts shouldn't care.
“But what exactly are you suggesting we do about it?” Erica rolls her eyes, “Like I said before, we need a PL-A-N!” she over-enunciates each part of the word.
“The little one's got a point,” Hopper says, ignoring Erica's death glare at the nickname. “We look out for our own. We always have. But we have no clue what all… this,” he gestures vaguely at Eddie, judgement clear as day, “is about. We're no scientists. And without Owens…” He trails off.
Nancy steps forward. “Not the lab,” she asserts, “We can't trust them with Eddie. But… I hate to admit it…” she looks at Eddie sympathetically, addressing him, “I don't think there's anything we can actually do. I mean, you don't have a body, Eddie. And even if we went back into the Upside Down to get it, which would be unbelievably stupid and dangerous-”
“Are you saying we could shove him back into his body?” Robin asks, hopefully.
“Even if that were possible,” Nancy continues, “it's been… two weeks.” She winces, “I don't think the body would-”
“Okay, okay-” Steve waves her off, face scrunched in disgust, “well it’s not like we have any spare bodies lying around...” He seems to immediately regret saying that and a couple people in the room groan. With the death toll sitting at 22, there is an uncomfortable irony to the comment.
“Wait a second…” Dustin gasps, having a light bulb moment.
“No-no, stop that train of thought!” Steve practically wails, “that's not an actual option!”
And Eddie is inclined to agree with Steve. If the suggestion here is for Eddie to… get shoved in the body of some poor sucker who died in the ‘earthquake’, and walk around controlling their body like a giant meat puppet, Eddie's answer is a definitive NO.
“Just hear me out!” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he rummages through his duffle bag, pulling out his Monster Manual. He slaps it down on the table and flicks through it until he gets to the desired page.
Everyone gathers 'round.
Eddie sneaks a glance - ah, of course.
“Ghosts?” Lucas reads aloud, incredulous, “is that what we're calling Eddie? I mean, he's more like a…” he looks Eddie over with a grimace, “like a bunch of mosquitos or somethin’.”
Eddie is half tempted to fly into Sinclair's face for that comment - I'll show you a bunch of mosquitos.
“What is a ghost, if not a soul without a body?” Dustin reasons. “That's all he needs. A body. See right here-” he points at the page, “ghosts have the power of possession. And we know it's possible, because-”
“Because we've seen it before…” Nancy murmurs.
“Will,” Jonathan confirms quietly, and everyone turns to look at the boy in question.
Will's face is drained of color. He swallows heavily. “It makes sense, but… possessing someone, even someone who died…” Something dark clouds his features, and he shakes his head to clear it away. “When I was possessed, it was- I mean we can't just…”
That would be such a violation - taking over someone's body, their life. It goes against everything Eddie stands for. He doesn't even like the forced conformity of social pressure, let alone taking away someone's actual free will. He flies back and forth, firm in his opposition to Dustin's plan.
“I'm not suggesting Eddie turn to the dark side!” Dustin groans, “Obviously that's off the table. But ethically speaking, Eddie is in the clear so long as the person consents to being possessed. He just needs a volunteer to share their body with him. Like…” Dustin searches for the right word, and he snaps when it comes to him. “like a roommate!”
“A roommate?” Steve snarks.
“Well don't look at me!” Lucas holds his hands up defensively.
“Not you!” Dustin rolls his eyes, “me!”
And… holy shit, Eddie is a bit taken aback. Dustin would really… for him?
Though incredibly touched that Dustin would make such a sacrifice for him, the thought of being shoved inside the body of a 15 year old boy doesn't really sit right with Eddie. It's a little creepy actually. Dustin should get the chance to at least get through adolescence in the privacy of his own body and mind.
Plus, possessing anyone… even with their consent is way too much to ask of them - too much of a burden.
Not to mention, having to sit back while the other person takes the reigns and lives their life, with Eddie as a passive passenger with no choice in the direction… sounds like prison. Might as well stay part of the hive mind at that point.
The room seems to have a similar hesitancy to Dustin’s idea.
“I don't know…” Will murmurs.
“You'd be crazy to let him do that,” Mike says, “-no offense to Eddie!” None taken; Eddie is of the same opinion.
“No… no, I don't like this,” Steve shakes his head vehemently, going into full dad-mode, “You're just a kid, you can't be the guinea pig in this situation.”
Dustin has a retort at the ready.
“Steve's right,” Nancy interjects, “we don't even know what would happen if he tried. Just because you read something in a game manual doesn't make it real. It could seriously hurt you, Dustin.”
“Would prolly be just like takin’ a rip” the Argyle guy pipes up. “Hell, I'll do it!” Everyone collectively ignores him.
Hopper attempts to be the voice of reason. “No one is possessing anyone! Jesus, have we lost our minds?”
“It's a risk I'm willing to take!” Dustin argues, “what if we leave Eddie how he is and he starts… drifting away or something? He can't breathe, or eat, or laugh, it's not right! I won't stand for it. No. Eddie's going to possess me. I give him my full consent. Right Eddie?”
Everyone turns to look at him. Slowly, Eddie moves back and forth, and goes to hover by Steve and Nancy. Sorry bud, it means a lot but… it just isn't an option.
Dustin's face falls, looking a little hurt. Then, his mouth presses into a hard line. “Then I'm going back into the Upside Down and getting Eddie's body. We aren't leaving him like this.”
No one likes this idea, least of all Steve who takes the lead in trying to talk Dustin down, putting his hand on Dustin’s shoulder to level with him. “Listen, Dusti-”
Dustin swats Steve's hand out of the way.
“No! You can't stop me from doing everything in my power to help Eddie! What are you going to do Steve, lock me up?”
“If we have to, man!” Steve says incredulously, arms crossed.
“What if it was me, Steve!” Dustin is getting angrier and tearier by the second, “would you just leave me like that? Look at him! Is that any way to live? I can't - we can't even really talk to him! I just got him back. It's not fair! It’s not fair…”
Steve takes the sobbing boy in his arms.
Eddie watches, numbly. The heartbreaking scene fills him with a very real pain, but he can only perceive that pain in theory. He has no heart to actually feel the ache. He doesn't have tear ducts that burn.
He can't hug Dustin and tell him it will be okay.
Eddie really doesn't know how he is supposed to live like this. But this is his reality now.
— 1 year later —
This new reality is boring.
It's a completely selfish thought, considering all the ongoing chaos.
Hawkins and its surrounding areas are under a full military quarantine, and the party has a new base of operations in the form of a hit new radio broadcast station WSQK: The Squawk, hosted by DJ Rockin’ Robin, assisted by her sound guy Steve. It was the perfect cover up for sending coded messages to members of the resistance during military occupation without raising too many inconvenient questions.
The group searched for Vecna to no avail. The Upside Down was relatively safe with the absence of any monsters. There was no sign of the hive either (or, the Mindflayer the kids called it–though Eddie didn't really see the direct comparison there; he would have gone with Elder Brain or Demon Lord or something–much more lore-accurate).
But they had no problem locating Eddie's body.
Needless to say it was not a viable option. It was half eaten and bloated and Eddie would have vomited, if he could have, at the sight of it.
So Eddie is stuck like this–amidst the honest to god apocalypse, and he can't even read a god damned book unless someone is there to turn the pages for him.
The world is falling to pieces around him and he can't do anything to help. Everyone has a role, except for him. He's nothing but a burden really, since he constantly just pesters people for attention. He ruffles through Harrington's hair to get a playful swat, he gets Robin to pretend to juggle him, he gets the kids to play 20 questions with him, and he watches each failed Crawl through the Upside Down with growing dismay. It was almost like Vecna was dead. But Eddie saw him, and Will could feel him–so they knew he was alive, somewhere.
At least tonight he's at the Harrington house with Steve and Robin, rather than alone at the Squawk. There's pros and cons to spending his time there. The radio station has an endless stream of music to entertain him. But it's lonely as hell at night. Sometimes Murray crashes on the couch in the Squawk bunker, but he walks around in his underwear and sings weird Russian songs while knocking back whiskey, so he's not ideal company. And since Eddie doesn't sleep… it amounts more to torture.
Steve and Robin are falling over each other in laughter, and for the first time since he was turned into a cloud of dust, Eddie feels something close to joy. As always though, it is soured by the pain of knowing that he, himself, will never double over with laughter ever again, or feel the stretch of a smile in his cheeks. And he can't even cry about how much it hurts.
“You okay?” Robin suddenly peeks up. She's developed some kind of sixth sense for his state of mind, picking up on something whenever his mood shifted.
He moves the ouija planchette to spell out:
J.E.A.L.O.U.S.
Both his friends frown down at the board. They exchange glances and Eddie immediately regrets saying anything. It's been happening more and more recently. He should really stop complaining so much to them.
“I have an idea!” Steve says suddenly, hopping up to his feet like he's gearing up for a boxing match.
“Ooo, do tell!” Robin rubs her hands together excitedly.
“Okay… now that I'm about to really suggest it, it feels crazy,” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up. He rubs at the back of his neck, “It's probably a bad idea and we definitely shouldn't do it… but…”
“Buuuuut?” Robin prompts.
Steve sighs with his hands on his hips, and nods once, like he has resigned himself to a decision, and then spreads his arms out wide and welcoming, with a stupid smirk on his lips.
“Possess me, Eddie Munson!”
It's like Eddie glitches, in that moment, every particle freezing in mid air for a split second.
“Yesss!!” Robin practically screeches, pumping her fists in the air. She sits up on her knees on the couch, enthralled by this new turn of events. “Are you serious? Are we actually doing this right now?!”
Eddie hopes his panic and confusion translate as he flies around in a swirly mess of anxiety.
“I'm down to try it, if Eddie is,” Steve shrugs like it's no big deal. Sure, they're friends now. Best friends, even, the three of them. But what Harrington is suggesting is actually insane!
Eddie would be inside Harrington's brain. In his body. Potentially feeling everything he feels.
It's a dizzying level of intimacy to share with anybody, and Eddie can't even fathom what it would be like to actually stand in Harrington-
Steve's… shoes. Steve's skin. Steve's… everything.
That rustles up a nervous feeling deep in Eddie's stomach, which he immediately tries to disown–some pesky attraction to the idea, the image of being inside Steve. It tickles at some perverted little fantasy in him..
There is always a chance that the mind meld would go in both directions too, and Steve would be able to see every intrusive depraved thought in Eddie's gay little head. And just because Steve is okay with Robin doesn't mean he would be okay with…
No way.
Eddie quickly goes to spell out his message on the board. Steve and Robin rush over to make out what he is saying.
U.R.D.R.U.N.K.
“Pfft! I only had like one beer–and a half!” Steve argues, and Eddie wonders how much of Steve's confidence is just bravado. There's no way in hell he is actually this chill about the idea. “You’ll see, once you get in here. I'm totally lucid! I mean, don't you want a taste of this ice cold beer?” Steve wiggles his beer bottle enticingly.
Robin giggles, but stifles it with her hand. “You don't have to obviously,” she says seriously. “But I gotta admit, man, it would be super cool to talk with you and hug you and shit. You've had to miss out on so many things, like…eating? I got some secret junk food stashed in here somewhere. You can eat all my secret junk food! I mean… now is your opportunity to try! If you never try then you'll never…” she frowns, not finishing her sentence.
He'll never do anything… ever again. Period.
Shit.
Steve clears his throat. “If it feels uncomfortable for either of us, and we wanna stop, then you'll just… get out of me! No harm, no foul, right? I trust you.”
Harrington needs to stop saying these things.
The truth is, Eddie is scared. He has no idea what could happen if he tried to fly down Harrington's throat. Who's to say he wouldn't just end up in his lungs and suffocate him to death from the inside?
But could he really resign himself to a lifetime of this purgatory, this nothing existence, if there was a chance he could experience those simple joys again, even if just for a few minutes? He was lucky enough to have a friend willing to risk it all and share that with him just so he can… what, experience eating a potato chip again or something?
“Well? What do you say?” Steve looks almost manic, like he is daring Eddie to say yes.
S.C.A.R.E.D.H.U.R.T
“I thought you didn't feel pain,” Steve remarks.
Eddie hovers over NO.
U.
“Hurt me?”
YES.
Steve nods, seriously for a second, as if this is the first time he's considered this could have negative consequences for him.
“He makes a good point, Steve,” Robin speaks up softly. “I mean… we really don't know what could happen… you know you have to be super sure about this…”
“Yeah… well…” there is a faraway look in Steve's eyes, like he is thinking really hard. Then the spell breaks and he looks up with crystal clear eyes at the cloud of dust in front of him–he looks at it like he can really see Eddie in it. “Eddie deserves it.”
Distantly, Eddie sees the way Robin nods, growing almost tearful in her emphatic agreement.
“Besides–” Steve continues, blinking long eyelashes rapidly as he looks away. “There's not much left in here for Eddie to damage,” he jokes, thwonking his hand against the side of his head.
“Don't we know it,” Robin responds by rote.
“So… I'm sure. I'm super sure. Now, come on, Eddie…” Steve smirks in a way that just barely reaches his eyes, as he gestures to himself. “You wanna take me for a spin, or not?”
F.U.C.K.
Eddie's next word should definitely be NO.
I.T.
He flips the entire board onto the floor.
“Ohmygoditshappening…” Robin mutters under her breath.
A pink hue rises to Harrington's cheeks and his eyes widen in shock before his face is taken over by a grin.
“Shit! Hell yeah!” Steve chuckles breathily, clearly nervous but trying to play it off. “Um. How should we, uh… do this?”
Like Eddie could possibly have an answer to that.
Apparently it was rhetorical though, as Steve looks around and eventually settles himself into the couch. Robin swivels so she is on her knees directly facing him, like a puppy waiting for a treat.
When Edide doesn't move, Steve snorts and says, “Well, you might need to get a little closer for this to work.”
Eddie summons his courage to get closer, hovering in front of Steve. He can see the anxious bob of his throat.
It feels awkward to imagine Harrington just… opening wide and Eddie cramming himself down in there.
There has to be a more elegant solution.
Behind him, on the coffee table, is Eddie's saving grace.
“Hah!” Robin laughs in delighted approval, “that's kind of perfect actually…”
“I feel like I'll owe Argyle money after this…” Steve chuckles as he picks up the empty bong Eddie has crammed himself in.
Steve lifts it, and his mouth is right there. Some of Eddie is already tickling at Steve's lips, before Steve pulls away.
“Ready?” He checks.
When Eddie makes no move to flee, Steve lets out a big sigh and says “well… here goes nothing…” before bringing the opening back to his lips and inhaling deep–inhaling all of Eddie Munson.