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[camarod]

psycho man

bhargrove#1969

---

ABOUT ME

fuck off.

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[heatmetal]

I'd be offended if you weren't.

[ flicking the amp on with his toe and letting his fingers just mindlessly pick a tune. ]

[camarod]

You two are the biggest morons I have ever met.

[he hums again, then tilts his head, eyeing Eddie, chews the inside of his mouth. ] We hung out earlier. [he lifts a brow. ] Good little boys, like I said.

[his foot is tapping. one of them, anyway.] I promised him not to snitch this time. But you're both real honest to god idiots and maybe I'd be jealous of the way you're into each other if you both didn't make me wanna gag.

[heatmetal]

Well, I was in my sixth year of highschool, so that tracks. [ it's said lightly. ] Harrington's taken plenty of knocks to the head fighting supernatural monsters so...

[ it's a little mean and he sort of regrets it. eddie's tongue starts to peak out of the corner of his mouth, the absent playing transforming into a loose cover of ace of spades. he doesn't say anything else for the duration of the song and as the last chord rings, he sighs. ]

You ever just - [ he shakes his head ] get so wound up you think you're gonna burst?

[camarod]

Have you fucking met me?

[king of getting wound up etc. he's still watching; watches the face Eddie's face works, watches the way he seems to radiate all that anxious energy in every muscle. he wets his lips again, nudging Eddie with his foot.]

You need an outlet.

[heatmetal]

You're looking at it.

[ he lifts the guitar up. d&d. hellfire. his band. everything his room is plastered in. ]

It's not that, man, it's in the moment - I make the wrong choice. Every time. Every time.

[camarod]

[he swallows. his own spit feels too thick for his throat. ]

You and me both. [always. an abundance of bad choices that have led him. here. ] This isn't just about Harrington, huh.

[heatmetal]

... Nah, man.

[ his whole life is just one big fuckup. Eddie looks down, keeps his fingers busy. his teeth worry his lower lip, brow furrowing. ]

When my eighteenth rolled around, my uncle told me I needed to start being more careful. Drop allllll the stuff he knew I was doing that he didn't know about... And what was I doing on March 21, 1986? I was selling ketamine to Chrissy Cunningham.

[camarod]

Never done a thing wrong in her life Cunningham? Carver's girl?

[there are few sentences that might shock him, but this does. Billy and the cheerleaders were always - flirty, he guesses. never anything else. he only knows Chrissy's name because of Carver, he supposes. maybe he should feel bad about that. ]

[heatmetal]

Yeah. She, uh... [ he lets out a weak sigh. ] Sweet girl. Pretty. Absolutely terrified to be sitting at that picnic table with me... I should've told her to go home, but she seemed so... sad. Desperate. Said she couldn't sleep, felt like she was losing her mind - a-and she was.

[ his fingers are shaking just a little. ]

Vecna was - he was playing with her, man. She was so damn scared. I took her to my trailer, went in my room to get the stuff, came out with the Special K and she...

[camarod]

[sweet. yeah, he remembers that. kind. he's quiet for a moment, let's Eddie get his bearings, catch his breath. after a minute he rolls onto one elbow, reaches over to squeeze his arm again. ]

That wasn't on you, Eddie.

[heatmetal]

[ his leg is bouncing. head dropping. he still sees it. hears the way her bones cracked. the empty vacant stare in her eyes, how fragile she felt under his hands. ]

I just left her there. [ it's a horrible way to die, because he has no doubt that vecna didn't let her die that instant. he'd let her experience those final moments alone on his dirty floor. alone, broken, and terrified. eddie's shoulders shake. ] She didn't deserve that. A-And if I hadn't, if I'd called for help - [ Vecna would have kept killing. And Eddie would have been free to go. ]

[camarod]

[again, he reaches for that part of him that would hold his mother after a bad fight. remember her hands in his hair, her kisses on his forehead. remembers warmth, vaguely, and knows he can't give Eddie that, not really.

still, he sits up. reaches for the guitar, gentle detangles it from Eddie's hands. places it askew against the bed, opposite the bats. then he works on muscle memory: reaches for Eddie's shoulders to pull him close, flush against his chest. Billy swallows some of that too-thick spit again and hesitates, just for a second, before he soothes one hand down Eddie's back, and then other against the back of his head. he exhales, shaky. ]

She'd still be dead, and that's not on you. It's on him. That thing. What were you supposed to do? Come on.

[heatmetal]

But maybe I wouldn't be.

[ It's selfish to say out loud. He'd given himself gladly to protect his new friends - but he remembers the cold that came after. The blood draining from his body from all these fresh new holes. Dustin sobbing as he promised to take care of everyone in his stead.

Eddie sucks in a shuddering breath, goes easily against the broader man. ]

[camarod]

You're not a bad person for wishing you'd stayed alive.

[he's tight in his hugs. like maybe this is the first real one he's gave in a long time; like he's scared Eddie might disappear if he lets go. ] You're human. Eddie, we're just fucking kids.

[he's a little breathless. they're just kids. Billy never made it to eighteen, not really. something else did in his place. idly, he finds his fingers scratching at Eddie's scalp. soothing. ] Be mad about it. Hate it. I fucking do.

[heatmetal]

[ He guesses, with all the tears his shoulders have absorbed lately, its about time he returned the favor. Eddie curls against him like a pillbug and the sob that wrenches out of him is ugly. Frustration and grief, of every wrong choice he's ever made, made sound. ]

[camarod]

[he would have flinched away from this, back in Hawkins. would have pushed Eddie away and told him to get a grip; told him to grow some balls. it feels like a million years ago, feels like that ugly part of him has grown rotten with time. so he holds Eddie Munson against him, rubs circles in his back and combs his fingers through his curls the way he used to do for mom. he presses his nose into his hair, let's him sob and wail and rock through it.

whispers that's it, and you're okay, and i've got you. things he's always wanted to hear. it turns out you just have to do all the shit no one ever did for you. it's a revelation.

his own eyes sting a little. grief. anger. an empty sort of acceptance. he thinks he might give a shit about Eddie Munson more than he realised. ]

[heatmetal]

[ Neither of them deserved to die like that. Young and in their prime, their best years a promise they'd spent years waiting to see fulfilled. Maybe in another world, another time, they could've saved each other from Hawkins.

Eddie's an ugly crier. He cries the way he does everything, his whole body and soul in it. The bats react to the sound but - slowly, slowly, the colony dissipates as the tears do. The nonstop whispering and chittering ebbs, but he doesn't notice over the sound of his own crying.

When he's finally out of tears, he stays right against Billy. Not sure he has the strength to push himself back up just yet. But the window is mostly clear of bats, save for one or two stubborn little things that think they're still needed. ]

[camarod]

[he knows the shoulder his shirt is damp now. tears and snot, hot against his skin. it's a revelation not to be mad about it. it's a revelation to rock Eddie through this, to eventually just let him be.

if he's honest, maybe he likes the warmth against him. maybe he likes being close to another person in a way that isn't a quick fuck, or a fight. maybe Billy isn't as hollow as he lets himself believe, because he feels angry for Eddie. feels like he could take Vecna on by himself again just to give him some relief.

he doesn't know what to do with that. so he keeps holding him. let's his hand rest on Eddie's lower back, let's Eddie get himself back together, keeps busying his hand in his hair, and exhales a stilted breath. knows he should go and get Steve, soon. knows that he promised to stay, but that Eddie will want Steve, not him. it makes sense. ]

[heatmetal]

[ There's calm after the storm. A few minutes of silence, and then Eddie finally starts to move, looking at the damage with a genuine but weak laugh.

He still wants to go home. Look after his uncle, his bandmates, all his stupid little kids. But it feels good to have the release. To not be hit with reassurances that it's all going to be fine, because they don't know. And he thinks maybe he needs to be able to mourn what he's lost, the innocence he's never getting back. ]

... Guess I should foot your dry cleaning bill.

[camarod]

Don't sweat it. The way my careers going, I won't need it.

[ha. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, now. feels like a stupid thirteen year old, a bit clumsy and awkward. so he lies back again, slow onto his elbows. watches Eddie's face for cracks. ]

[heatmetal]

[ Another laugh. A gentle punch to his soaked shoulder. ]

We're not in California, sunshine. Eventually it's gonna get cold.

[ The smile reaches his eyes this time at least. ]

[camarod]

[good. good. he can relax. ]

So long as my other assets stay toasty, we're good.

[he means his -]

[heatmetal]

[ Another louder, brighter laugh. He wipes at his eyes and flops down against the mattress, scrubbing his face.]

That worried about shrinkage?

[camarod]

Not on your life.

[isn't every man. ] You good, though? Really, I mean.

[heatmetal]

Getting there.

[ he stares at the ceiling. ]

You're right, though. Need a waaaaay better outlet.