&&. Cassie + Eddie 002 - Blog Posts

cassieconrads·:

WHO: cassie conrrad & @eddiemcnson· WHERE: skull rock

In the weekend of the Fourth of July, Cassie had learned a lot. Hawkins was under attack by some supernatural creature, no one could leave, the government may or may not have been covering the whole thing up, and the girl Cassie thought she’d seen in her head the night at the graveyard actually hadn’t been dead. Which meant that she had some sort of apology to give to the nice guy with the rockstar head of hair she’d seen on her way to the library when she’d been looking for more information: Eddie Munson. After describing the cheerleader in her head, Eddie had proceeded to practically run in the other direction, and Cassie couldn’t help but dig into why. 

As it turned out, Eddie had been some sort of town-declared freak, after all. They’d thought that he was responsible for the cult in the woods or something like that, all because of playing Dungeons and Dragons. But, after talking to Lucas and finding out that there was no way some teenager could have done this singlehandedly back then, Cassie had come to realize just how horrible Hawkins had been to the guy. 

Which was why, upon seeing him at the rock where another one of Mike’s friends had apparently gotten possessed, according to Nancy, Cassie didn’t turn in the other direction. She also didn’t want to scare him into thinking she was there to pick a fight, so she approached with her hands in the air, notebook full of DnD notes she’d taken in one, as this was supposed to be a research trip.  “Please don’t run away this time, I come in peace,” she pleaded, taking cautious steps forward. “I promise. I have a whole lot of explaining to do and a pack of cigarettes in my pocket, half of which could be yours,” Cassie offered, lowering her hands slowly with a grin. 

+++

this was stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid. eddie truly didn’t know what had posessed him when he’d stormed out the trailer, headphones clasped tightly on his head, blasting the sisters of mercy’s 1987 ‘floodland’. coincidentally the same album he’d listened to over and over again following the months of spring break ‘86. the tape was worn out, sounding mangled at times, he didn’t care. it still provided him an odd sort of comfort. 

perhaps it had been wayne’s concerned nagging, or the way eddie still felt the bruises callahan’s handcuffs had left on his wrist. or it had been the fact that, once again, he couldn’t show his face in town without being subjected to scrutiny. maybe it had been eddie’s own doing, in the end, his constant overthinking that had caused him to snap at his uncle - who only meant well, of course, and eddie knew this - and leave the trailer to go on a walk. clear his head. not that he could take any of his usual routes, not if he planned on coming back home unharmed, anyway. still, he wondered why his feet had carried him to skull rock. muscle memory, maybe. just like it had been muscle memory in ‘86 when he’d fled to the same place after a run in with jason carver that had very nearly cost him his life, hadn’t vecna claimed his next victim at a particularly convenient moment.

being back at that spot did nothing in terms of calming his jangled nerves, made him feel worse, if anything. the feeling of worse-ness heightened by the fact that he’d forgot his cigarettes at home. bullshit. a voice cut through his incessant thoughts and eddie jumped, ripped his headphones off his head, ready to make a run for it. wasn’t that - oh. right.

a frown settled on his features, he eyed her with suspicion, a couple of beats passed. finally, he nodded apprehensively. “hand ‘em over.” and he nodded for her to go on.