Chapter Text
Steve is late for date night. It’s not totally out of the ordinary, especially when their date, like tonight, is just a movie in on the couch, so Eddie tries not to worry. Keith can be a dick, making Steve stay late, especially if he knows he’s going home to his ‘girlfriend’. How that asshole has managed to follow Steve and Robin to almost every job they’ve worked together in some position of management baffles Eddie. It must be some kind of cosmic joke. He’s thinking of ways he could totally hypothetically, definitely not actually kill Keith, or at least get him fired, when the phone rings.
“You got Munson,” he says into the receiver.
“Who is this?” The voice on the other line is deep and garbled, yet distinctly feminine. He doesn’t recognize it, but something in her tone is familiar… and unsettling.
“I just told you who this is. Who are you trying to reach?” He asks, an edge in his voice as he considers maybe it’s some girl who’s hung up on Steve. He knows Steve would never leave him, especially for some random girl he barely spoke two words to on a poor excuse for a date, but the thought still sends him reeling somewhat.
“What number is this?”
“Motherf- you dialed didn’t you? What number are you trying to reach?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jesus christ. I think you have the wrong number,” Eddie says, becoming increasingly frustrated.
“Do I?” The voice asks, and then a moment later, in a much sweeter tone says, “My bad.”
There’s something almost comforting, motherly even, in the way she apologizes and he softens if only a little. “It happens,” Eddie says, and sets the phone back in its cradle. He turns to enter the kitchen, but takes only a step before the phone rings again.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”
“So why’d you dial it again.”
“To apologize.”
“You’re forgiven,” he says. “Bye now.” He moves to put the phone down, but the voice on the other end stops him.
“Wait, wait. Don’t hang up. I want to talk to you for a second.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Listen honey, they’ve got 900 numbers for that. See ya.” He scoffs as he hangs up the phone and goes to retrieve the Jiffy Pop he picked up from the store on the way home. He gets it on the stove and pulls the paper tab off when the phone rings for the third time. He desperately wants to ignore the call this time, but thinks it could be Steve letting him know he got held up, or fuck, maybe worse. Eddie would never forgive himself if Steve was hurt and he ignored his call for help.
“Hello.”
“Why don’t you want to talk to me?”
“Who is this?”
“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Didn’t I already tell you. And honestly the whole ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ thing is a little played out, isn’t it?” Eddie is now almost positive that whoever this is isn’t calling for Steve. Probably just some guys who won’t let go of the whole ‘cult leader Munson’ thing, and got their girlfriend to call so he wouldn’t hang up immediately. He shakes the popcorn on the stove to avoid burnt kernels. Steve always complains when there are burnt pieces.
“What’s that noise?”
“Popcorn.”
“Popcorn? I only eat popcorn at the movies.”
“Well I’m getting ready for a date. We’re watching a video.”
“What?”
“Just some scary movie,” he says, leaning on the counter and examining the chipped polish on his nails. He’s entirely disinterested in this conversation, but hopes the mention of a date will be enough to deter them from further calls. Unlikely, but a man can dream.
“You like scary movies?”
“Yeah, but my partner hates them.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Jesus, I don’t know,” Eddie kind of snaps. Nothing he says seems to make this girl back down.
“Oh come on, what comes to mind?”
“Halloween, I guess.” Eddie shrugs, remembering the stifling mask he used to sneak across the trailer park all those years ago. “You know, the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters. What’s yours?” The popcorn on the Stove rapidly expands in its foil and he resigns himself to talking his way through this conversation. Just get it over with so he can move on.
“Guess.” She says.
“Um, Nightmare on Elm Street.” He doesn’t say it’s because he imagines this chick is a total nightmare, but he tries to emphasize it in his tone.
“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”
Eddie scoops the vhs up off the counter and walks down the hall, locking the windows as he passes. “Ya, Freddy Kreuger.”
“Right, Freddy. I like that movie, it was scary.”
“Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked.”
“So, you got a boyfriend?”
Eddie freezes in his tracks, standing by the patio door. He doesn’t respond, tries to even his breathing before speaking, but he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. What he thought was a harmless prank call has come full circle right back to sinister.
“Did you hear me? I asked if you have a boyfriend.”
“N-no.” Eddie stammers. Even years after the fight, he sometimes feels the chill of eyes on him, the grip of vines and teeth of bats digging into his sides. He flicks on the patio lights and looks out over the pool. There’s no one there, nothing but the mist of the water lit against the forest that creeps at the edges of Steve’s backyard. He instinctively clicks the lock and rushes out a quick, “I have to go.”
“Don’t hang up on me!” Her voice is stern and eerie, but he hangs up anyway, his hair standing on end.
The forgotten popcorn is making noise like rapid gunfire and he tries to slow his breath as he tries to go pull it off the stove. It must be burnt by now. The phone rings again in his white-knuckled grasp. He doesn’t know why he picks it up, but something deep within him he isn’t even aware of compels his finger towards the button to pick up.
“Yes?” he asks, shortly.
“I told you not to hang up on me.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Well dial someone else okay.” He hangs up, only for the phone to ring not a second later.
“Listen asshole-”
“No you listen, you little bastard. If you hang up on me again, I’ll finish what those bats started, understand?”
Eddie pales. “W- How do you know about that? Is this some kind of joke?”
“More like a game, really. Can you handle that? Eddie.”
The way she says his name sends a chill up his spine. It- It can’t be. But it can’t be anyone else. The way she says his name, it… it’s just like him. He doesn’t even hang up the phone as he runs through the house, locking every door and window in his path. His breath puffs heavy and wet, mixed with the tears he hadn’t realized were rolling down his cheeks. He looks out the decorative windows on the front door, finding an empty yard.
“Listen, I’m two seconds away from calling the police.”
“Hopper can’t help you.”
“What do you want?”
“To see what your insides look like.”
Eddie slams the phone down on the cradle by the front door, backing away from the windows in terror. He doesn’t know who, or what, rings the doorbell at that moment.
“Who’s there?” He asks. “I’m calling the police.” He jumps about a foot in the air as he reaches for the phone to call Hop’s personal line and it rings before he can hit the first number.
“You should never say who’s there. Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a deathwish. You might as well come out here to investigate a strange noise or something.”
He tries to steel his nerves, but the quiver in his voice is unmistakable. “You’ve had your fun so you better just leave or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he’ll be pissed when he finds out.”
“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I lied! What gay man in Indiana would freely admit that to some psycho on the phone? I do have a boyfriend and he’ll be here any second so your ass better be gone.”
“Sure…”
“I swear.” Eddie’s voice gets more unsteady as he shouts. “He’s big and he plays football and he’ll beat the shit out of you with a baseball bat!”
“I’m getting scared. I’m shaking in my boots… His name wouldn’t be Steve would it?”
And that’s possibly the most horrifying thing he’s heard tonight. His own safety is one thing, but anyone finding out about Steve, Hawkins golden boy and resident lady killer, shacking up with the local freak? They’d kill him, and Eddie would never forgive himself. “How do you know his name?”
“Turn on the patio light… Again.”
Eddie steps carefully through the living room, back to the sliding glass door and reaches out a shaky hand to the light switch. The warm yellow bulb buzzes as it illuminates the yard. Eddie can’t open his eyes as he faces the wide windows, afraid of what he might see. He opens them slowly and finds Steve. He’s tied to a chair, coated in his own blood with duct tape covering his mouth. There’s a look in his eyes as he struggles that Eddie has only seen once before, in the upside down when he ripped a bat apart in pure unbridled fury.
“Fuck, Steve!” Eddie clicks the lock and pulls the door open, but the woman stops him, her voice growing deeper and more warped.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Eddie slams the door shut again, fearing the worst if he doesn’t listen. He’s choking back sobs at this point, knowing there’s nothing he can do if this woman got the drop on Steve of all people.
“Please don’t hurt him.”
“That all depends on you. I want to play a game.”
“No.”
“Then he dies right now.”
“No!”
“Which is it?” Eddie sobs again. “Which is it?”
“What kind of game?” He asks.
“Turn off the light. You’ll see what kind of game.” Steve shakes his head frantically, his eyes wide and pleading, but Eddie is helpless, forced to play along with this sadistic asshole – and not the kind of sadistic he enjoys. He clicks the lights off to the sound of Steve’s muffled screams of his name.
“Here’s how to play. I ask a question. If you get it right, he lives.”
“Please no.”
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. It’s an easy category. Movie trivia.”
“Please.”
“I’ll even give you a warm-up question.”
“Don’t do this. I can’t”
“Name the killer in Halloween.”
“No.”
“Come on, it’s your favorite scary movie, remember. He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, yes you do.”
“No. Please.”
“What’s his name? Steve’s counting on you.”
Eddie takes a beat, chokes on a sob and tries to take a deep breath because she’s right. Steve is counting on him. Everyone is counting on him because without Steve they would all fall apart. “Micheal. Michael Myers.”
“Yes! Very good.” She purrs. “Now for the real question.”
“No!”
“But you’re doing so well. We can’t stop now.”
“Just leave us alone.”
“Then answer the question. Same category. Name the killer in Friday the 13th.”
“Jason! Jason. Jason.” He repeats the name like it holds the key to the universe. He can’t help but think she chose that one on purpose, just to remind him of the man who led his manhunt.
“Sorry, that’s the wrong answer.”
“No it’s not. No it’s not, it was Jason.”
“NO it’s not. No way.”
“Listen, it was Jason. I saw that movie twenty god damn times!”
“Then you should know Jason’s mother, Mrs. Vorhees was the original killer. Jason didn’t show up until the sequel. I’m afraid that was a wrong answer.”
Fuck. She’s right. Eddie knows that. He watched that movie religiously, he should know that , but his mind is a mess, addled with a thousand scenarios, a million ways he could lose Steve forever. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. They were supposed to grow old together, maybe marry Robin and Chrissy so they could all live together without the weird looks. It wasn’t supposed to be some deranged woman in the middle of the night. They were supposed to be safe now.
“Please.” Eddie whimpers.
“Lucky for you, there’s a bonus round. But poor Steve, I’m afraid he’s out.”
Eddie can hear it before he sees it. The thud of an impact against Steve’s body, the wet squelch of his blood. He screams, screws his eyes shut because this can’t be real. This can’t be happening. He’s dreaming, he’s possessed by Vecna and this is all a vision, maybe he’s dead and this is Hell. Anything, please god, anything that means this isn’t real life. But he knows, as soon as he opens his eyes and sees the blood and viscera of Steve’s exposed abdomen, his sides carved up just like they were years ago, that this is no nightmare. Steve is dead. His head hangs limp against the back of the chair he’s tied to and Eddie screams, falling to the floor with shaky breaths.
The woman laughs, deep and inhuman. “Hey. We’re not finished yet. Final question, are you ready?”
“Please leave me alone.”
“Answer the question and I will. What. Door. Am. I. At? There are two main doors to your house. The front door and the patio door. If you answer correctly you live. Very simple.”
Eddie searches his surroundings for something to defend himself, settling on the letter opening on top of the tv.
“Don’t do this, I can’t. I won’t.”
“Your call.” The woman taunts. He doesn’t have a chance to answer before the chair previously holding Steve’s lifeless body comes crashing through the glass. Eddie runs, choking on the smoke now filling the house from the burning popcorn on the stove and grabs the biggest kitchen knife he can find on the way to the front door. He sees a figure dressed in all black jump through the hole in the glass and opens the front door, stepping out and closing it as quietly as possible. He presses his back to the wall, trying to flatten himself against the exterior as much as possible. The figure races through the house searching for him, but he notices a car through the tears blurring his vision – Hopper’s truck. Someone must have heard his screams and called in his stead. He glances back inside once more. The woman has entered the kitchen, backlit by the flames of the blazing popcorn on the stove. He crouches under the windows and tries to run while she’s distracted, but as soon as his head pops into view, she’s waiting for him, punching through the glass to grab the knife from his hand.
Eddie rips his hand out of her grasp and runs, he pauses briefly when he sees Steve’s body, but now is not the time. He can mourn later. The car is pulling into the driveway and he tries to race towards it, but he’s tackled to the ground, showered in glass by the woman jumping through the window. He escapes her only briefly before her hands are back around him, plunging her knife into his chest. Eddie falls to the ground, breathing hard as searing pain spreads from the same spot in his chest where he was once eaten alive. Hands find their way around his throat and he can feel his windpipe crushing under the pressure. He flails, kicking as hard as he can in hopes he can throw the body off of him. She goes falling backwards and he turns his head to see Hopper and… Fuck, no, Wayne is with him. He can’t let her get to Wayne too.
The two of them climb the front steps and Eddie tries to call out, but his voice has left him, crushed by the woman’s hands. He hears her rapidly approaching footsteps, but he’s too weak to escape now, allowing himself to be tackled. At the very least he can reach out and grab that mask. He can hardly grasp, but the rubber thing pulls off easily and he sees why the voice rang so familiar with him at the very beginning. Joyce, the woman who took him in, who was practically the only mother he’s ever known, stares back with a smile that reaches her ears.
“J-joyce… Why?” Is all he can choke out in a raspy whisper.
“Joyce isn’t here right now,” she says, only it isn’t her voice. It’s a voice he knows all too well. Vecna’s voice. It’s then he notices the dead iciness of her eyes, the same look he’s had described to him when hearing about Will’s possession.
“Let her go,” he tries to say. It comes out more like “L.. ergo.” Joyce – No, Vecna’s hand plunges the knife down into his chest once more and he loses consciousness. He knows this is the end. It has to be. If this attempt on his life doesn’t take, he doesn’t know what will, and anyway, he doesn’t want to survive this, not without Steve.
Eddie’s eyes open only once more. He feels the slimy cold of vines suspending him from the tree in Steve’s front yard. He vaguely registers the sound of Wayne screaming, sees Hopper rushing towards him. Eddie has no strength left. His head falls and the last thing he sees is Joyce’s body falling limp below him. He knows as he closes his eyes for the last time that she will not get back up.