Chapter Text
February 1985, Indiana
So, his girlfriend left him for the guy he accused her of cheating on him with, so he lost his spot as king of the school, so he bussed a bunch of kids around now.
So what?
The kids were still a bit of a joy to be around, even if he didn’t understand what the hell they were talking about half the time, they clung onto Steve like he was their nanny. Dustin especially. Steve loved that kid, loved him like he was his little brother, something that his parents never would’ve given him. To be a Harrington was to be a lonely success. Steve failed on both fronts.
But Nancy? That was a hard one to let go of. Considering he was chaperoning both Jonathan and Nancy’s little brothers he’d cross paths with them often. Too often for his liking. Steve felt like he was going to lose it, so he ignored and ignored and ignored until finally--
“Steve, are you okay?” Nancy asked with pursed lips, arms crossed as the kids walked past them into the Byers house.
“Huh?” That was a first, Nancy stepping around Steve’s stoic silence to poke at him. He knew it was concern but, still. Jonathan stood right behind her, and Steve just toyed with a ring on his finger out of habit; a gift from his mother. She claimed she made that one, too. When he got anxious, he’d find himself mindlessly fidgeting with it, something that she hated but, well, it was his ring.
And she was never around to see it, anyways.
“You’ve been distant, and um...missing school a lot.”
“Been busy.” He shrugged, playing it off as nothing.
“Is this because of me? Or the kids? Steve, you know, I still care about you--” Whatever was holding Steve together snapped.
“Yeah, care so much about me that you dumped me, Nance.” The kids hovered in the doorway behind Jonathan, who went to step in when Nancy stopped him. “The kids are fine, thanks. Better company than my old crew. Maybe you should watch them sometime for me if you think they’re stressing me out, yeah?”
Without waiting for an answer, Steve stormed off into his car, driving away. He didn’t mean for the kids to see, to experience that, and he did enjoy his time with them but--
He needed time to cool off, and as the sky got darker, he felt more and more shame.
--
Steve knew he shouldn’t have stormed off like he did, but between his ex-girlfriend with her new boyfriend and the kids he babysat, he just couldn’t contain himself. He had a rough week already, his parents gone an extra week and getting rejection letters in his mailbox well—a group of people stressing him out with even more responsibilities was the last thing he needed.
Steve loved taking care of the kids, but he knew he’d been slacking with school recently. The letters, along with his own emotional turmoil, made him a bit more reclusive. They were concerned, sure, but also, he knew damn well that he was failing at life. The guilt ate at him nightly. Maybe it was his own anger with himself, but the moment Nancy opened her mouth he just wanted to scream at them.
Instead, Steve was sat alone in his living room, huffy even after a short drive back home. No amount of radio music distracted him, and they even played Wham. He fucking loved Wham.
Eyeing the clock above the doorway, a fancy looking wall clock his mother claimed to have made back in her day, Steve sighed. It was going to get dark soon, two hours having passed by while he fumed on the couch cushions. He knew he should call Nancy, or maybe Dustin, and try again to explain himself.
When he stood up off the couch, groaning, he heard a small thunk coming from the entranceway. Steve froze, quirking up his eyebrows, before grabbing the lamp beside the sofa. Just in case.
Steve told himself it was nothing, but he was a paranoid guy, alright?
He yanked the cord out so he could carry it with him as he side stepped to peer into the hall, finding nothing. He relaxed, running a hand through his well-maintained hair, then twirled the small silver ring he had on his right hand.
Right as Steve went to put the lamp back he heard a noise again, right behind him, but before he could turn around, he was on the ground. His jaw hurt, his teeth hurt, and there was a buzzing coming from behind him. Steve tried to orient himself, attempting to get up and swing at the unknown attacker, who simply caught his shaking fist.
A black ski mask, almost like a movie costume he’d seen at the theater before, black hoodie and gloves. The faintest, white smile in the holes, and piercing blue eyes. Steve’s head throbbed, the shock wearing off from moments ago, and he realized then that he’d been hit in the head with something rough. Heavy.
Using all the motor control and stamina he got (blessing his athletic history as he did so), Steve sprinted around the intruder quickly, booking it to the kitchen to yank the wall phone off the receiver. He started dialing 9-1-1 with trembling fingers and stared at the drawer by the sink across the way. There were knives in there.
He bit his lip indecisively, before leaving the phone to dangle by the cord to throw open the drawer and reach for a knife.
“Good idea.” A voice from behind him whispered, a gross feeling following shortly after.
Then it was a fight, one Steve knew he was losing, as the man wrestled him away from the drawer and tried to rip the knife out of his hands. Steve’s body and brain stopped feeling the pain, it became nothing but his primal senses and nerves screaming at him “RUN, RUN, GET AWAY.” He swears he was shouting it out loud, too.
The scrambling led to bleeding, the man having stabbed Steve straight through the palm, and with that bleeding hand he made a final reach for the phone; the phone that had been cut when his back was turned.
Would they know? He thought to himself.
His fingers smeared the yellow plastic in red, and Steve wept. Had they not had that argument earlier, the gang would’ve been here for movie night. But it was probably canceled because of him. No one would be coming.
He wept more, stopping only when he hit the tile, his teeth clacking. This time, though, the pain never truly came, instead he felt fuzzy, unreal. His vision was blurry, whether from the head trauma or the tears, he had no idea. Steve lay there, jolting with a knee pressed into his back and another knife went through his intact hand.
Then black.
Then movement, his leg hurt terribly, like when he jumped into the shallow end of the pool as a kid. Steve could barely see; it was dark out and his eyes weren’t working right. There was static, his jaw falling open to whine. Someone was holding him and he--
“lem...e....oo.” Steve tried, cringing when the words didn’t happen. “Lea...se.”
“Shush.” The man carrying him chuckled to himself, and Steve tried to focus his eyes but he just--
Next time he comes to, his whole body hurts. When he gains a little more control over his body, he glances down at himself and sees a strange man doing something odd to his stomach. The sight makes him sick, it registering to him that he was being dissected. Like some kind of science experiment.
He looked up, seeing trees. He brought Steve to the woods, and through the buzzing in his ears he could hear a creek. He could beat other worldly monsters, but not this. The humor wasn’t lost on him.
When he woke up for the last time, the only thing in Steve’s mind was, “I’m cold”. He must have somehow said that because the man tutted, putting his gloved hands around his throat, thumb pressing into his Adam's apple.
Before it went dark one more time, Steve just thought of Dustin.
It hurt.
It was over.
--
July 1985, Indiana
Eddie struggled to find his place in his newer home, AKA Hawkins, Indiana, but he did manage to find a small group to stick by. While he had been ushered into the town to live with his uncle after shit hit the fan with his dad, he did enjoy some aspects of Hawkins.
Two things, in fact.
The nature, the trees by his trailer reminded him faintly of his childhood, and the righteous townspeople he got to piss off. He got to enjoy both with his new gang, them often taunting regular citizens with satanic imagery or various misunderstood fantasy lore and rummaging in the woods.
Eddie dreaded the start of the school year, having already failed senior year once in his last school, but couldn’t contain his excitement about having a group this time around. Last time, back in the mountains, Eddie was completely alone and left to fend for himself, thanks to his crummy dad and shitty school system. He was pretty sure he’d hate this one too, but now he’s got company.
Gareth and Jeff picked up on Eddie’s presence pretty quickly, just a few days after moving in with his uncle Wayne he made waves in town by blasting his heavy metal with the windows down. At one point, when he pulled up to the arcade in his beaten down van, Gareth and Jeff hopped up to him and excitedly explained that they were starting a band. Munson smiled the whole drive back home, and when Wayne asked what he was so pepped up about he started to trail off about how great these guys were.
He caught a small smile on his uncle’s face, even though he tried to hide it.
Freak was introduced to him later as the last band member, and the rest was history.
Eddie actually belonged, being himself and belonging seemed impossible before. Even if most the town hated his guts, he had a group, friends, and a fucking band! His life felt so close to being complete in that one summer.
As the school year inched closer, they spent their hot summer days enjoying the shade in the woods and their nights in Gareth’s garage to practice; Freak said he had managed to find a place they could play at, and ever since then they’d been practicing like crazy. Eddie had his fingers crossed that this was it, and they’d get discovered.
The woods in Indiana weren’t too different from the ones in Appalachia, but you could tell that there were people nearby in these ones. Oh, and no mountains. Eddie didn’t miss those as much as he thought he would. The creeks, though, were a highlight. Deep in the woods by his trailer park, Eddie sloshed around in the creek bed with Gareth while the other two chit chatted nearby.
Eddie bent over and picked up a crawfish, threatened to throw it at Gareth before he spotted something glimmering in the water. The crawfish was spared being thrown, placed gently back into the stream to walk off, and Gareth took a sigh of relief. Munson bent down again, looking down at where the glimmer just was, which drew the attention of the other boys.
“What is it, Eddie?” Jeff asked, both of them walking as close as they could without getting their shoes wet.
“Dunno.” He swept around with his hand before feeling something metal and small. Eddie smiled up at his friends and ripped his hand out of the water with a dramatic “Aha!”.
A ring. A small silver ring.
“Neat.” Freak said, unimpressed. Gareth snorted and stepped out of the creek, shaking his head.
“Probably cursed, man.”
“Don’t joke about that.” Eddie eyed it carefully, then put it on his hand. He loved collecting rings, and the more on his hands the better. “See, I’m fine--” Eddie fell over, thrashing violently in the water and started groaning, but as soon as the guys ran to his side, he grabbed them and yelled.
“Gotchya!”
“You’re such a dick.” Gareth groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Free ring.” Eddie admired its shine, wondering if it was some sort of engagment ring or something. Every ring had a story.
“Gross.”
--
Eddie didn’t remember falling asleep, but the weed he smoked before bed tended to do that. Ever since he moved in with Wayne he’s had to smoke to sleep well, nothing against the man but Eddie wasn’t used to this. To having someone be there in the home with him, or his own sheets and privacy. It was alien, and it stressed him out sometimes deep in the night.
So, weed.
He stood on a basketball court at a park, oddly aware that he was dreaming. He glanced around, the breeze feeling nice and warm as the sun was setting, then realized this was a park he’d been to just recently. The creaky swing sets were rattling nearby, and the monkey bars were empty. No one was there except a boy.
He had dark brown hair, styled but clearly getting more disheveled each passing minute. The boy looked to be 7 or 8, though Eddie was a terrible guess at ages, but the basketball in the kid’s hands looked too big. Eddie watched as he tried and failed to make a basket, then walked up to his side.
“Gonna be a basketball player one day, kid?” He smirked; he hated basketball players, but he wasn’t about to tell a kid that. Not even in a dream.
“Yeah. I’m no good, though.” The kid pouted and tried again, irritated that he didn’t make it. “You wanna play?”
“Me? Play basketball?” Eddie scoffed, almost laughing until he saw the hopeful look in this kid’s eyes. Fucking adorable. “Ahem. Yeah. Sure.”
“Really?” He looked so excited; Eddie felt a bit of shame for nearly laughing at his request.
“Yeah.” Eddie took the ball from his hands and tried to tribble, the little kid laughing at how terrible he was. “Think fast.”
He bounced it over to the kid and tried to steal it again, somehow getting beat by someone at least a decade younger than him. Every attempt he made got stopped, and every throw he made went way past the hoop. He’d be so embarrassed if this were real, and he was forever grateful it wasn’t.
“You’re terrible!” The boy laughed, stopping to let Eddie catch his breath. “I’m Steve.”
“Eddie.” Eddie wheezed out, going to shake Steve’s hand.
“Work out more, Eddie!”
Why that little shit.
Before he could respond, he woke up. He felt out of breath, just like the dream, but otherwise he seemed fine? It was weird, it felt weird, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on dreams, Gareth needed a ride to the arcade and then the comic shop.
--
The arcade was crowded with kids and preteens, and there was one that seemed to stay clumped together, which meant longer waits for whatever machines those kids were on. Eddie didn’t mind too much, he was only there to hang out with his friends, he’d never been one for the arcade. Now board games? Eddie ate that stuff up. He’d mentioned it in passing before but wasn’t sure how the group would feel about something as intense as a Dungeons & Dragons campaign.
“Dammit!” Gareth thudded his hands onto the metal exterior of the game he was playing. Eddie eyed him, amused at how into it he got. Maybe they would enjoy his favorite passtime?
Back home, before Wayne, he didn’t actually have a chance to play it. He would spend his time, instead, writing out in-depth and detailed campaigns for fun. He’d always dreamed of playing it for real, to entertain and master the art of storytelling. He’d designed maps and painted character models with whatever supplies he could find, and he’d hide it from his dad whenever the bastard would appear at their house.
Almost as if the Lord was real, and giving Eddie a sign, he noticed one of those many kids a few cabinets over shout about a cleric. His brows raised at the mention of a Dungeons & Dragons class and readied himself to go over to the pipsqueaks until Gareth stepped in his way. Eddie groaned and bit his lip at being blocked from a possible campaign, but he couldn’t stay mad at Gareth, who didn’t even notice what was happening.
“I hate these games sometimes.” Gareth scowled. Without meeting his eyes and without thought, Eddie responded.
“I know a better game.” He watched over Gareth’s shoulder as the kids left.
“What? Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders and made pointed eye-contact with him, finally. “The game of all games.”
Gareth grinned, amped up by Eddie getting amped up.
Another win for Eddie Munson, Hawkins wasn’t so bad.
--
There was that kid again, except he was on the porch of some big house instead of on a basketball court. Eddie walked up the driveway, loose rocks crunching under his shoes. The kid looked older, too. The closer he got to him the more differences he noticed. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, why someone who looked to be about 10 was sitting there in the dark.
The cicadas screamed faintly in the background, fireflies beginning to make their appearance, so it must be summer. The house looked abandoned, vines growing up the sides and no lights were on. The kid, Steve he just remembered, had his head in his hands. His back was shaking, and that made Eddie’s heart hurt.
“Steve?” Eddie cautiously called out. He was standing right in front of him now, hovering uncomfortably. Steve jerked his head up and sniffled. Eddie couldn’t help but frown at the sight, the kid was crying so hard his eyes were red and puffy and there was some snot coming down his face all the way onto his chin. “What’s wrong?”
“Tommy isn’t my friend anymore.” Eddie didn’t know any Tommys, but he assumed it was another kid.
“Why’s that?”
“He said I'm stupid.” Steve coughed and attempted to clear his throat.
“I doubt you’re stupid.” Eddie took a risk and sat down next to the kid, sighing deeply. “People think I'm stupid all the time, but I know I'm not. I’m just smart in different ways than they want me to be.”
“Tommy is mean.”
“Tommy sounds mean, Steve.” When Eddie agreed Steve glanced up at him with a small smile.
“How do you know my name?” Steve added, still smiling.
“You told me it before, in another dream.” Eddie felt weird about this. “You looked younger,”
“Eddie?”
--
August 1985, Indiana
The school year was right around the corner, but instead of worrying about it Eddie just put work in to making their new club t-shirts. The group decided, after Eddie explained the game, to try to make being at school a little more fun. They purposely named their future club something both badass and controversial to the common folk of Indiana: Hellfire Club. They used Jeff’s mom’s sewing equipment to make the first draft, then went from there.
All of them were excited, and Eddie was positively giddy, he couldn’t decide on what campaign to run first so he rolled a D6 to make his selection. With all that work going on they weren’t in the woods as much, and Eddie felt a strange pull to it, but...
Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin, plus he started a lucrative drug dealing business to help his uncle out with the bills, he just didn’t have the time. With school being added to the mix, well, that will make it impossible. The pull didn’t stop when he was busy, but he could shrug it off pretty easily. Especially when it came to his DnD pride and joy. He’d had everyone pick out their class early on, so now he’s been working on crafting figures for them each to use.
“No tank, this’ll be fun.” Eddie mumbled to himself then continued to work, tongue between his lips as he painted one of his carvings.
“Do we need one?” Freak asked, worried.
“Nah.” He was in the zone, didn’t bother to look at his anxious friends next to him on the floor.
This was going to be great, except--
Those dreams kept happening. Steve. It was starting to unnerve him, although these weren’t nightmares so there were some nice moments.
Some bad, too.
--
A splash of water alerted Eddie nearby, and he realized he was at that house again. The vines were thicker, taller though, but still no lights on inside. He rounded the corner to the backyard and was taken aback by the sight of a swimming pool. He knew the house looked nice, if you removed the overgrowth, but a pool was next level nice. It was lit up, thankfully, because it was once again getting dark, which made Eddie wonder what someone was doing swimming at this hour.
This time, too, it was fall. The leaves were dying and falling off the trees and there was a slight chill in the air. Yet, there was Steve again, swimming in the water like it was summer. Following the pattern of previous dreams, this Steve was slightly older, though still young. Looked to be a middle schooler, no older than that from what Eddie could tell.
Eddie stepped closer, attempting not to startle the boy, until he got to the pool’s edge. Steve popped up for air and turned to face Eddie, staring at him like he was just another friend he knew. Did he know?
“Hey, Steve.”
“Hey.” His voice cracked, Eddie cringed and knew instantly he was right. What a terrible age.
“Kinda late to be out swimming, huh?”
“Practicing.”
“Of course, swim team?” Eddie grinned, but it fell off his face once Steve stopped responding. “Steve?”
“My throat hurts.” Steve looked frightened; his face was twisted wrong. Eddie’s heart stopped.
“W-what?” Eddie took a step back, unsure what was happening.
“Let me go, please, it hurts, please- let me-”
Eddie fell over into the grass, and back into his bed.
This time, he panicked and had to take a moment, take a hit and drink some water, before he could move on with his day.
That wasn’t how these dreams typically went.
--
Two days before school started Eddie found himself making a pitstop at some rich kid’s house party. Word spread fast that Eddie was the guy to go to for party favors, and this party is supposed to be full of people wanting to get high (among other things). The danger of showing up at this place is, of course, if it got busted by cops, he’d be in deep shit. Wayne would be so disappointed in him if he ended up like his old man.
He hasn’t even had his first session with Hellfire yet.
The drive through the rich neighborhood was boring and mostly made Eddie hate these people even more. The big houses were extravagant, and even the simple ones, the owners were clearly still loaded. Eddie was bitter, yeah, but at least tonight those guys would be giving him some cash for once. There were no other cars, though, so it was easy to go at his own pace while tapping his fingers to his favorite album when something caught his eye.
Eddie nearly passed it but slammed on the breaks in time, throwing his van into reverse and then park so he could get out and take a better look.
Steve’s house, the big vines covering the windows and doors, it looked exactly like the dreams. Eddie moved forward without thought, mouth open in shock as he found the porch and the swimming pool. The water was drained, and he shuddered in horror. The creeping feeling he had about the last dream, the woods, all of it came to a head. Eddie wanted to throw up.
Something was seriously wrong here, and Eddie didn’t want to stick around to find out what.
He sprinted back into his van and drove to the party, head reeling from what he had just seen. He’s pretty sure he’d never seen that house before just now, so how did he dream it up so perfectly? And Steve? What if he was real?
Was Eddie some sort of psychic now? He hated the thought. Yeah, he’d like the aesthetic but actually experiencing any of those powers sounds terrible, especially right now.
The party, he hoped, would take his mind off of it.
--
The party did not, in fact, take his mind off of it.
He sold his goods and wares and headed straight for the punch. It was rancid, the vodka was not mixed in or hidden at all within the bowl, but he didn’t care, and downed it. And again. And once more for good measure. The house still on his mind, Steve still on his mind. Why did Steve seem so scared, and almost in pain? Another drink.
God, he was about to be in school with these people.
Eddie eyed the crowd, silently judging all the drunk people dancing terribly in the living room and noticed a girl with dirty brown hair sitting by herself on the couch. She was nursing a drink, and her leg was bouncing up and down, nervousness clear as day. He went to sit next to her, maybe make conversation, when a girl started screaming at someone from across the room.
She was crying, long curled hair bouncing as she shoved her way past Eddie and out the door. His eyes went wide as he scanned the crowd for the source of her distress and landed on a guy with short hair and freckles, a blonde woman hanging off of him.
“Who was that, Tommy?” She stroked his face, his shock from the screaming froze him in place.
Tommy is a common name, but that combined with the house...
Munson bolted from the house and decided to take a risk when he saw the girl sitting on the front step crying into her hands.
“Hey.” He started, grimacing at how stupid this was. He was a sucker for comforting people, though, even if she seemed like just another prep. She looked up at him, mascara running down her face.
“What do you want, freak?” Ouch.
“Just checking on you, that's all.” She scoffed at that. “Are you okay?”
The girl paused, considering just telling him to fuck off, but the tears started up again.
“Tommy, he’s such an asshole.” Whew, more deja vu. “He showed up with some other girl hanging off his shoulder, like what? I’m way prettier than her.”
“He cheated?”
“He’s been cheating! Ever since...” She trailed off. “He’s a dick. I don’t know why I keep trying.”
“Ignore him, you could do better.” She blushed and rubbed the tears off her stained cheeks.
“Don’t hit on me, weirdo.”
“I’m not!” He laughed, hands up in self-defense. “Just saying! You could do way better than a chronic cheater.”
“What's your name?”
“Eddie.”
“Carol.”
“Enchante, Carol.” Eddie bowed without thinking.
“Let me give you some advice, Eddie.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t dress like that to school, you’re gonna end up a loser.”
And of course she was like that. He couldn’t tell if it was a dig or what she thought was genuine advice. Regardless, he shook his head and gave a small thanks before dipping out from the scene. Suddenly, he needed more to drink.
--
September 1985, Indiana
School was terrible, much like he expected, but at least Hellfire was going off without a hitch. They managed to snag the drama room for their sessions, and he stapled posters on the school boards to advertise for any other lost sheep out there. It was the only thing that got him through the school day, knowing he’d either be playing music with his friends or dming for them. It was all he ever wanted, but now he wanted more. He wanted Corroded Coffin to go big.
Carol was right, he swiftly became an outcast amongst the general school population. He saw her once, but she acted like she didn’t know or recognize him and laughed at the jokes her friends made at his expense. Tommy wasn’t near her, though, so he was oddly proud of her for ditching him. It didn’t take long for the jocks to pick on him and his friends, but it didn’t hurt his feelings. They were all chumps.
One more problem came up, with these freshmen following him around like a bunch of hungry stray cats. They talked excitedly, having seen his posters (which he now regrets hanging up) about Dungeons & Dragons. He maybe would’ve considered them for Hellfire if it weren’t for the fact that one of them was also a basketball player. As it was, he just ignored them best he could. Until he couldn’t.
Eddie sat on the bench where he made his deals, deep in the woods behind the school, when a girl in a long skirt marched up to him. He felt strangely intimidated and a brief chill, causing him to shiver. Her jaw was clenched, and heavy air of determination. Altogether, terrifying.
“You run Hellfire.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, don’t worry my cult won’t curse you.” He tried to joke but it fell flat. She stared him down, and another shiver shot down his spine.
“You won’t let my brother and his friends play, but you have those posters.”
“The freshmen? I don’t trust them--” She slammed her hands down on the wooden table causing him to jump in surprise.
“They’re good kids, even if my brother is sometimes an idiot, and I suggest you give them a chance.”
“Uh. Are you threatening me over a bunch of kids?”
“I’ve heard of you, Eddie Munson, you collect nerds and weird kids. I’m not threatening you per say, but please. Reconsider. They love Dungeons & Dragons so much more than you think. They need this.” She took a deep breath and withdrew her hands, smoothing out her skirt. “Sorry, I just uh... they are having a hard time, and they think you’re cool so if...”
“They think I'm cool?” He snorted, feeling a bit honored. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But what about the basketball kid?”
“He’s just as nerdy as the rest of them, don’t judge.” She seemed satisfied with the answer he gave and smiled. Another cold chill, huh. “Oh, and don’t sell them any of your products. That one is a threat.”
--
“Can’t believe Nancy fucking dumped me.” This Steve, this time, was lying on the floor in what seemed to be his living room. Eddie settled onto the uncomfortable dream couch and listened. Steve was older now, and his face looked a bit roughed up.
“Why did she dump you?” Steve rolled his head to glance at Eddie, hesitating to answer.
“She loves someone else. I think...after Barb died things were never the same.” That’s a new name. “Nancy never said she loved me.... not since then.”
“What happened to your face, Stevie?” Steve laughed at the nickname; his smile made Eddie feel a bit of gratification.
“Billy. Do me a favor and avoid him.”
“I don’t know who that is, but sure.” Eddie picked at the threads on his torn-up jeans, this dream wasn’t too bad this time. He felt bad for Steve, of course, but this wasn’t real. “Steve, what does Tommy look like?”
“What?” Steve studied him, confused. “Why?”
“Just uh...” Eddie rubbed his hands anxiously. “...curious?”
Steve’s face went blank and rolled over onto his stomach.
“Can you help me?” Steve asked, monotone.
--
Eddie was getting used to those dreams but sometimes they were weird. Another weird thing was, he started to feel cold all the time. It was only September, and the thermometers said it was in the 60s and 70s, yet it was cold. Ever since the conversation in the woods with that one terrifying girl it's been frigid-city. His jackets didn’t help for some reason either. He thought it was just him, maybe he did get cursed somehow.
“It’s always freezing around you, dude.” Jeff mentioned while tuning their instruments.
“What? Really?” Eddie put down his guitar and looked between the band. They all nodded but thought nothing of it. Not until they noticed Eddie spaced out in thought.
“Calm down, man.” Gareth added, pulling him back to reality.
“Maybe Eddie is haunted.” Freak laughed, Jeff joining in, but Eddie’s face must’ve shown something because everyone stared at him in worry. “Eds? It was a joke.”
“His face is so pale, are you scared of ghosts or something?”
“Eddie Munson fearing ghosts? That would be hilarious...”
“I think I am being haunted.” Eddie stated, nauseous.
“Fuck off.” Jeff laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Don’t call me crazy okay, but I think...that would explain a lot of weird shit.” He sat on the couch in the garage, eyes wide. “Do you guys know a Steve? Used to date a Nancy.”
They all looked at each other and paused. Thats not good.
“Steve Harrington.” Jeff mumbled. Eddie wanted to cry.