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Dec. 3rd, 2022 at 12:56 AM
[Chrissy falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. She doesn't wake up until he pulls her out of sleep the next day. Despite knowing that Hawkins lies ahead of them, she's in a rested and good mood as they pack up their things and get ready to head out. They stop at a diner about thirty minutes away, and don't waste too much time eating. That probably has to do with the fact they both inhale their food and then some, and Chrissy's pleased to note that the waitress can see them just fine.
So maybe he's right, and they're only half dead. Either that, or starving ghosts can make themselves be seen in the name of getting food.
They go wash up in the bathroom before heading out from the diner, and Chrissy almost tries luring him into one of the stalls with her. But she behaves herself, feeling a little tense as they head back out to his bike.
The drive to Hawkins both feels like it takes forever and goes by too quickly. They listen to music and quietly chat about their childhood, and Chrissy keeps her arms wrapped tight around him the entire drive. Occasionally she presses a kiss to the back of his neck or his leather clad shoulder. The affection is easy and natural at this point, and he doesn't seem to mind her giving it to him anymore. It's just part of the way they are together.
That easy affection continues as they pull into Hawkins and Chrissy feels sick to her stomach. It's late afternoon by the time they pull up in front of her house, and her legs feel like they're made of Jello as he lifts her off the bike. She takes two steps before stumbling right into him, clinging hold of his hand for dear life. ]
I don't know if I can do this.
[She whispers, feeling so stupid. He's here with her, she can do this. She just has to be strong like he's teaching her to be.]
So maybe he's right, and they're only half dead. Either that, or starving ghosts can make themselves be seen in the name of getting food.
They go wash up in the bathroom before heading out from the diner, and Chrissy almost tries luring him into one of the stalls with her. But she behaves herself, feeling a little tense as they head back out to his bike.
The drive to Hawkins both feels like it takes forever and goes by too quickly. They listen to music and quietly chat about their childhood, and Chrissy keeps her arms wrapped tight around him the entire drive. Occasionally she presses a kiss to the back of his neck or his leather clad shoulder. The affection is easy and natural at this point, and he doesn't seem to mind her giving it to him anymore. It's just part of the way they are together.
That easy affection continues as they pull into Hawkins and Chrissy feels sick to her stomach. It's late afternoon by the time they pull up in front of her house, and her legs feel like they're made of Jello as he lifts her off the bike. She takes two steps before stumbling right into him, clinging hold of his hand for dear life. ]
I don't know if I can do this.
[She whispers, feeling so stupid. He's here with her, she can do this. She just has to be strong like he's teaching her to be.]
Comments
He's both minding Chrissy and assessing the house itself when she stumbles her way into him, and he frowns as he keeps hold of her, then sets his other hand on her shoulder and looks her in the eyes.]
Yes, you can. You know you can an' don't let anything tell you otherwise.
[And if she really, truly can't, he'll sort this shit out himself, but he really wants to see her step up, mostly so she can prove it to herself that she's capable.]
You think your parents are even home? What are the chances they're out right now?
[She breathes out a sigh of relief as she notices it.]
My brother plays sports. Maybe they're at one of his games?
[She has no idea that they're all currently at the church after her funeral. In actuality, she's only been dead a handful of days. Her body's been found, and her family's lives have all forever been changed because of what's happened to her.
The ghostly remains of their precious little girl finds joy in the fact that no one's there to stop them. Her family is gone, and she can do this. Done averting her eyes, she looks up to meet his. And she tries smiling, giving a firm nod of her head.]
When we go in, I'll go up to my room and pack some things. You can do what you need to do.
[Or what he wants to do, she guesses. Either way, she's finding that there's some slight excitement to her nervous energy as he forces the front door open and they go inside. It's a big house, and she's almost embarrassed to be showing him through it. But after a quick tour of the downstairs, she presses a kiss to his cheek and makes her leave to head upstairs to her room.
Everything is exactly how she remembers leaving it. Her things are all in their place, except for a few dresses that have been laid out on her bed. It doesn't take long to realize someone laid them out as possible choices to dress her body in. She hates each and every option, and shoves them off her bed in distaste. But on second thought, she picks them up and smoothes out every wrinkle. There's no point in upsetting her mother now.
She grabs her pink backpack and sets all of her school things on her little desk, and proceeds to pack some clothes and some of her favorite little things to bring with her. She also grabs her walkman and some of her tapes, as well as her polaroid camera and packs of film.]
Johnnie?
[She calls out as she finishes, sliding on her backpack.]
Did you find anything?
[As she turns about to head over to the door, he surprises her by his presence there in the doorway. Something about him seeing her pastel and frilly room is embarrassing, and she awkwardly shuffles and fidgets her hands together.]
[So sure, he had her tour of the place, and then grabbed a sack and took his own version of that tour, raiding whatever he felt like. All bottles of hard liquor, for one - and it'll be a shame to turn these into molotovs, because they look real good to drink, but they'll burn real pretty, too. Sorting through the garage, he didn't find a sledgehammer exactly, but a regular hammer will do for his purposes, and it's hung through his belt next to his knife.
He'd come up here thinking jewelry to resell would be the other obvious thing to pack up, but came across Chrissy's room first, and, sure, all right, he's going to raise an eyebrow. But then he shrugs it off and gives her an easy smile before peeking in there, over her shoulder.]
Cute. Am I allowed in?
[He's not sure why he cares, since it's probably more a relic of her past than anything else at this point, but there's something about the opportunity that he can't pass up. It's a window into part of her life that he'll never really get to know.]
[Her tone is teasing, as she tries to be as light as possible. It's hard to do, given how much she's reeling. Being here is hard on her, but at least she has some of her own things now. And there's a part of her that wants him to see this room, to see the mold she had been made to fit into. Some parts of it are her, like the threadbare stuffed tiger she's had since she was four. Which, now that she thinks about it? She kind of wants to keep. So she grabs it off her bed and shoves it into her bag, laughing a little.]
Are you going to make fun of me?
[Because most elements aren't her. The pastel decor and white wicker furniture, all of the trophies and medals hanging on a shelf. Her empty smile is plastered in pictures of her and Jason, and her with their clique. They're taped up to her dresser mirror, reminders of how meaningless her life used to be. But there's also a ballet bar still on the wall, from when she was a little girl. There's bits and pieces of her real self that shine through, and she thinks all those best pieces are now in her backpack.
But he wants to come in, so she goes over to take him by the hand to pull him inside. She's still a little shy about it, since he's the first boy that's ever been inside her room. It feels a little like being laid bare in a way that makes her keep nervously playing with her hair.]
It was nice to come back and see all of this, but...I've got a new life now.
[A life with him to look forward to. It may not be forever, and she knows that. But for now, it's the two of them against the world. And that's a hell of a lot more secure to her than this big house with an abundance of material things, and not enough love or happiness.]
[And obviously not in any way that shows he really means it. He'd never be cruel about any of it. He sets his bag of pilfered alcohol down as she leads him inside, and has a better look at it all now that he's here.
Sure, there are things she's probably embarrassed about, but that's not really what strikes him. It's just the simple, sweet innocence of it all that really illustrates in such a blatant, open way the sort of person she was, or was made to be, when he first ran across her just a couple of days ago. And that isn't a bad thing inherently, either. If anything, it just proves she's pretty normal. A normal girl in a normal town. And she can be something so much more than that, given the right opportunity.
What eventually does move him to comment are those photos of her and that other boy. He lifts one off the mirror and raises his eyebrows, before the corner of his mouth turns in a smirk.]
Lemme guess, this is the jerk I'm lookin' to sucker punch, is that right?
Yeah, that's Jason.
[She lets that sit out in the open for a few seconds before letting a hand slip up so she can guide him in for a quick kiss. Her hand slips into his back pocket as she does, and she finds the intimacy to be enough to make her smile like she doesn't have a care in the world.]
Everyone thought we looked so good together when we took that picture. But it's weird that no one can see that I'm screaming on the inside.
[Ugh. She pulls the picture from his hand and tosses it onto her desk like it's a memory she'd rather forget.]
Okay one more. A third. Just a little one, before he really pulls away and goes to recover his loot, slinging the bag over his shoulder.]
I think people sometimes only see what they wanna see. Fuckin' irony or something. Hey, you said your brother does sports, right? What kind?
[That guy's room is right down the hallway too. He pokes his head in, and ooh, and here's a backpack, that's better than this grocery bag for carrying things in. Don't mind him pulling schoolwork out so he can swap the bottles into it. But the real question is if there's a baseball bat lurking in this closet behind him, because that might be even better than a hammer. Longer reach, anyway.]
[Meaning there are definitely a few bats in his room. The poor thing is clueless as to why he'd be interested in what sports her little brother plays. But she does help him transfer things into the backpack, only pausing briefly to give him a really look at all the alcohol he's taken. Chrissy doesn't say anything about it though, just gets the bag done up before leaving him for a minute.]
I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes, okay?
[She goes back into her room to retrieve her backpack, sliding it over both shoulders before she takes a little time to say goodbye to everything. It's a bittersweet feeling that leaves tears in her eyes as she starts to head downstairs.
Family pictures hang on the walls, and she takes time to look at each one as she passes them by. She loves her family, even if they really messed her up. And she'll miss them. Okay, and maybe she feels bad about coming here and messing things up. By the time she makes it into the kitchen to shove some food into her backpack, the tears are threatening to spill.
Chrissy doesn't let them, and instead of spending much more time inside the house, she heads over to stand by the door and wait for him. Her arms wrap around herself, and she has to keep telling herself she better not cry. If she cries, she's really going to bring down the mood of this whole day.]
Yeah, I'll be right down.
[Mm, baseball bats. He's going to keep the hammer too because you just never know when you'll want one, but these are more like it. He hefts one bat, then the next before picking the heavier of the two, and sticks that in the backpack with the grip end poking upward where the zipper doesn't close around it.
Right, parents' room next. Her asshole dad doesn't seem to have a gun tucked away, or at least he can't find one, which is a shame, but Johnnie hasn't really used one of those anyway and hopes they won't find themselves needing one. They're almost worth more for trade-in value, and her mother's jewelry will suffice. He's not going to take it all because that tends to raise too many eyebrows too quickly, but he selects a few nicer pieces. Real pearls, a gold-plated bracelet. A few things here and there go into the back pocket of the backpack. And these little scarves or whatever the fuck they are, those will do as fuses for the fireshow.
Bag clinking with his collection, he trots quickly back down the stairs, feeling heartened by the additions to their arsenal and eventual cash supplies. Now all he's gotta do is ruin a few motherfuckers' days and he'll be riding high on adrenaline.
Chrissy does not look so thrilled when he sees her by the door, but his expression doesn't really falter. She's having a moment, it's cool, she'll get over it. He pats her on the shoulder excitedly as he leads the way out.]
Hey, c'mon, let's get outta here. Onward an' upward, right? We got shit to do. Where'm I gonna find these guys, anyway? Or, wait, you wanted to see where you think you died first, right?
[Recovering memories and all probably helps with the whole hunting down this murderer thing anyway. He's just a little scattered with the rush of getting to fuck some shit up, that's all, but he helps her onto the bike and does whatever adjusting of their gear they need in order to carry it all to wherever she wants to go next.]
This is it.
She can do this. She's been brave so far, she can do it for a little longer. She feels him step up beside her, and her fingers curl against his. He's there with her, he won't let anything else happen to her here.
Still, it's on shaky legs that they duck beneath police tape and make their way inside. The trailer has been completely ransacked and turned upside down, and Chrissy tiptoes her way through the living room. It doesn't take her long to find the body outline, and the sight of how mangled it looks makes her take pause and stare with wide eyes.
There's blood on the carpet, and she gulps down a lump that's formed in her throat. She's filled with a sense of dread that sits painfully in her stomach, and she just wants to run away and never come back. But being here isn't bringing back the memory of what happened, not fully. It's still just bits and pieces, flashes of terror and memories of fear. But there's an undercurrent of something else, like she's being watched and pulled in toward something.
It's when she hears that dark voice in her head that she realizes it's someone.
It's time you come home, Chrissy.
He's taunting her, able to sense her presence here. Either that, or it's all in her head. Either way, she gasps and stumbles back into Johnnie.]
This is...this is the last place I remember.
He's right there for her when she bumps backward into him, and settles his hands on her shoulders.]
You say the word an' we can get outta here.
[Because as much he personally wants to bash a mystery guy's skull in right now in retaliation, he also knows he would sure as fuck not want to hang out remembering details of his own death. If it doesn't come back to her, so it goes.]
But through that, she feels something else entirely. It's like something is calling her back to herself. Only it isn't guiding her back into her own head. It guides her out of his arms and through the trailer, toward the back. She stops at the edge of a glowing rift, a tear in reality. Peering in, it looks like nothing more than a dark void that goes nowhere. But Chrissy knows without having to be told that this is where she's being guided.
Whatever is waiting in there is evil. She can feel that. But it's also calling to her, like it wants her to come "home".]
I know this sounds crazy, but I think I need to go in there.
Now, that glowing shit though, that starts to make him a little nervous. That is some element of the deep unknown, and his experiences with that shit have gone from mixed to downright fucked in recent history.]
What the fuck is that, huh?
[Well, he's not going to balk if she isn't. Unknown or not, he's no coward. Maybe this will only come in at number two in his list of stupid choices he's made.]
[Oh god, she's going to be sick. Her stomach feels like she's in freefall, and she's so grateful that he's still standing beside her. Because she really might lose a grip on reality completely without him. If she was alone, she'd probably have curled up in a corner and just let herself fade away into nothingness. But with him, she feels like maybe she can at least pretend to be brave.
She reaches over to take hold of his hand. There's words on the tip of her tongue, things she wants to tell him in case they don't make it through the other side together. In the end, she can't bring herself to talk like that. Not when he was so confident that nothing was going to happen to them here today.
Quietly, she counts to three. She jumps, and he follows.
It feels like reality itself is bending and twisting around them as they fall through darkness, only to land in a heap on the other side. Everything here is dark and cold, and that eerie feeling that evil is around is amplified tenfold. They help one another to their feet and look around.
It doesn't take her long to realize this place is a dark reflection of Hawkins. Everything's twisted and run down, some kind of mirror of the town. None of this should be happening. And yet here they are, standing in the middle of a place that gives her the creeps. But it isn't enough to just be there. She still feels drawn in somewhere, and turns to face the direction that's calling to her.]
Do you still think nothing bad is going to happen?
[Because she's a little skeptical at this point.]
The plunge into darkness hits him like a shockwave. He gasps sharply, drawing a desperate breath where there is none to be found. Chrissy is gone, and here he is clutching at nothing but void, and the memory of it floods back into him anew.
It seeps cold and slick between his cells and drags at him like it wants to tear him, skin from muscle from bone. Seeking safety, Johnnie curls inward, and finds himself insignificantly small as black races and ripples outward and envelops everything. It tears him loose of his flesh and he watches above the Earth, helpless, as the weight of all those cursed stars comes crashing down upon it.
He has seen it all before. The universe is a yawning black pit that will take them all and if he could just stop, if he could just get this shit out, because as tough as he is, a human mind is too fragile to contain the cosmos. But it has entwined with his blood and has crusted under his nails and surrender to no one, not even death begins to feel like a failed promise.
It feels like minutes, hours, lifetimes before he hits ground, although it has been maybe a second or two, but the vide noir never does play nice with time. He's able to get himself together and function without thinking for a few frantic seconds as he scrambles to his feet and helps Chrissy up, and then looks warily around, tense like an animal ready to fight, or flee.]
...I've been here before.
[Not for long. Just long enough to see some of its horrors. A warning, maybe. Memories of the future rippling backward as he has long come to accept as part of his life now. Or maybe he has truly set foot on this very same ground as he drifted farther and farther toward the edge.
He looks at his hands as the memories sharpen into focus, rubs at the scarred side of his face, and watches Chrissy. She had better be real, but part of him assumes none of this is. He draws a shaky breath as for a moment it threatens to overwhelm him again. The fear very quickly morphs into anger, something he can use.]
We need to get the fuck outta here. I dunno what you think you're gonna find here but it's a real good fuckin' way to disappear forever an' I am not about that if we can help it.
[He's angry. And when faced with an angry man, she does what she normally would do with Jason. She cowers and tries to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Instead of looking at him, she looks all around for any sign of the rift they had jumped through. If there was that one, then it stands to reason there might be more in other places around this dark version of Hawkins. She's more concerned about the fact that he's said he's been here before though.
She remembers flashes of this place, of the monster that she knows now must reside here. Her hand reaches for Johnnie's, and she clings hold of it like they'll be separated forever if she lets go. In some ways, that's exactly what she's worried about. The thought of disappearing forever doesn't sit easy on her shoulders. There's a pressing need to try and make things better, to alleviate the anger she can hear in his voice.]
We'll keep moving and find a way out. There has to be another tear like that one somewhere else.
[Her hold on his hand tightens, in what's meant to be a reassuring gesture. They're in this together, and they'll figure a way out together. She won't apologize for jumping in, because she doesn't think she could've resisted the call of this place. Just like she can't turn away from what's calling her back to him. It's dangerous, she knows it has to be. But it feels like she's a puppet and her monster is pulling the strings.]
[He's not really mad at her, of course. He's mad at what happened to him and mad at the assholes who did it, and he's absolutely terrified of losing his mind to the darkness forever. So, sure, he snaps at her because he doesn't know what else to do, but he clings to her hand anyway and pulls ahead through the shadowy town with its trailing vines, viscous and black. She wants to find something here, she says, but he just wants to leave before they're both condemned to wander this nightmare forever.
Fuck, and all the stuff he'd picked up is still on the bike, since he hadn't really packed up for a hike or anything to come into the trailer. He still has his knife and that hammer, and they're better than nothing, but once they find a way out, he's burning that goddamned trailer to the ground.
Fewer options here doesn't mean no options, anyway. He'll just have to get creative. It's hard to think straight when the darkness here creeps at the corners of his vision and threatens to drown him, but he's fought his way out before and he can do it again. He'll just stay vigilant for anything that looks like a gap in the fabric of this corner of the world so he can tear through it all over again.]
Johnnie?
[Eventually she does speak up, her voice so small and soft and empty. Hopelessness has settled into where she thinks her heart used to be, and she isn't sure how much longer she can keep going before the darkness here consumes her.]
I'm really sorry, okay? [There's tears in her eyes as she looks up at him, so close to begging him to forgive her.] I didn't know what would —
[She doesn't get to finish her thought, because one of the dark tendril vines that they've been stepping over and around comes to life. It extends silently and quickly, curling around her leg. With a forceful tug, it tears her away from Johnnie. she screams as it happens, both hands struggling to lunge forward and reach for him.
It's useless though, as the barbed vine curls painfully into her leg and draws blood. Screaming in pain and fear as it happens, she's belly down in the mud and grime. Her fingers dig into the soil and she claws at it to try and pull away. Whatever is toying with her gives her a few seconds to think that she can try, before roughly dragging her back to be swallowed by the darkness.
The tendril drags her through the dirt, and her screams should tell Johnnie that she's still there with him. She'll be easy to follow, the marks of her body being dragged embedded in the damp earth. The path leads to a broken down area where physics make no sense. A staircase leading to nowhere, with pillars erected around a large grandfather clock that's eerily ticking out of sync.
Chrissy is deposited here, the tendril retracting as she's gracelessly dropped in the blood and gore that make up her monster's home. Her leg is in immense pain, but she still scrambles to climb up on her feet. The sight that she's greeted with once she does fills her with a level of terror she's never felt before. It courses through her, white hot and numbing. All at once, she's trembling head to toe, looking up in terror at exactly what she had been hoping to find here.
The answers she wanted are in front of her, but she can barely see them through her tears.
The body that's forcibly put on display on the pillar she's standing at is her own. Her limbs are contorted and beyond broken, she can see that through the tendrils that hold her body in place. And her face is disfigured, eyes bloodied and caved in, blood dried on her face. And her jaw is what somehow upsets her the most, torn and broken and tugged to the side. Fixed in a permanent scream and look of terror, Chrissy Cunningham is faced with the knowledge that this is how her body was found in the real Hawkins.
This is how her parents saw her. How the police must have found her.
This is how poor, sweet Eddie Munson saw her, and with that realization, memories of that night come crashing back to her in vivid detail. It's all too much for her to process and handle at once. With a sob, Chrissy scrambles back until she trips and falls on her ass. It's all for the best, maybe, as she topples over to rest on her hands and knees. She retches once, twice, before throwing up.
And as she feels herself sink down into the gore that's now coating her from head to toe, she thinks maybe she's not strong enough to fight the trauma she's feeling now. She's weak, always has been, and always will be. And this is just too much for her to handle alone.]
Chrissy!
[Swearing, leaping over vines that curl and flex under his feet, he's never all that far behind. Even when she's quickly pulled out of sight, the trail formed by that shit dragging her away, and her voice in the distance, keep guiding him reliably. These vines, tendrils, tentacles - whatever they are, it seems like they mostly want her, but the hammer is a comfort in his hand to swipe at them when a few do start to arc upward to impede his progress.
As he runs up on where she's been dragged, it's not her down below he sees first, but her corpse, pinned on display like some kind of macabre trophy. He staggers and sinks to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away, even as he quickly becomes aware that Chrissy herself, his Chrissy and not just some dead body, is in a heap right in front of him.
But tear his gaze away he does, and drops the hammer for his knife so he can slice through any vines still attached to her leg. Then he gets his arms around her and tries to stand with her, haul her onto her feet. Yeah, her leg is in bad shape but they have to get out of here somehow, and if nothing else maybe he'll just have to try and carry her.]
C'mon. We need to go. Whatever that is there, it's not you. Not anymore. Now, come on.
[He'll deal with what he's seen later. Getting her to safety seems like the real priority now. Whatever this place did to her, it still wants the rest of her and he's not letting that happen.]
[For her, she doesn't know if it's only been a minute or hours or something far, far longer than that. But he's found her, he came back for her. He didn't leave her here alone. She's not in her right mind right now, but fear and a need to flee fill her.
She clings hold of him and relies on him to help drag her along with him. They've got to get away from this place. Her leg hurts, sure, but she's pushing through the pain to go as fast as she can. She stumbles every now and then, but never is down for long thanks to him.
Time is strange in this place. It stretches out and feels like it goes on forever, even when she knows it can't have been more than a few minutes. But those few minutes offer them a little hope. Up ahead, there's the start of a small tear. It's where the sky meets the ground, and she's pretty sure that it's where lover's lake should be.
They push each other to hurry and get there, time moving so quickly that it feels like it's smothering her and making her unable to keep up with Johnnie. But the speed of their movements don't really matter, when her monster finds them. He stands in their path, tall and terrifying. Seeing him is enough to make Chrissy's fear increase even more, but it's his calling out to her that unsettles her to her core.
You've come home, Chrissy. You know where you belong.
She doesn't know if Johnnie can hear it too. But she practically is scrambling up his body like he'll be able to hide her away from the man that so brutally tortured and killed her.]
With a flick of his wrist, that knife is back in action, all gleaming steel in the darkness.]
Hey, back off asshole, you're not taking either of us!
[The shout comes just as he darts forward, aiming the blade at the thing's stomach - an easy, soft target, no ribs or anything else in the way. He just wants a nice, clean, long slice through all that fucked-up tissue, so he can shove this freak out of the way and keep going.]
Nothing here is normal.
And as Chrissy watches the scene unfold before her in horror, she's filled with clarity about one thing. She knows she loves Johnnie, knows that so clearly that she's driven to move forward. When you love someone, even if that love has come on quickly and without warning, you fight for them. You don't let them face terrible things alone. And that's what he's done for her here. He's fought to find her, to protect her. He's doing whatever he can to keep her safe. ]
Johnnie!
[She calls out to him as she hears the creature laugh, tendrils coming from his back to curl around Johnnie. They pry him away and send him flying. He lands, and Chrissy's running over to help him to his feet. When she glances up toward her personal monster to see him just observing her, she realizes he's toying with them. That makes something in her snap.]
Okay, you know what? I'm not staying here! You already have me. I'm dead, you killed me!
[But it's like he wants whatever is left of her, all of her to claim as a prize. Chrissy turns to look at the small tear that now seems to be slowly shrinking in size. They've got to get through that as soon as they can.]
I'm really afraid of you, but I'll fight to keep him safe. I care about him too much to let you take him away from me. You called me back here. I know that now. But I choose to him! And nothing you can do will stop us from getting out of here.
[She may be talking big, but she's backing up to grab Johnnie's hand. Her head turns to glance up at him, and she gives him a sad smile. This is all her fault, but she's going to have to apologize for it later. Right now, she's choosing to live. Her body may be gone, and Chrissy Cunningham may be dead.
But she's decided that she wants to live, however she can. She wants to stay with Johnnie, and she wants to burn the town that couldn't save her. She wants to be free from this monster, and leave Hawkins and never look back. So she nudges Johnnie and mouths a single word to him.
Run.
And without waiting, she ignores the pain in her leg and she runs for her life. Hand in hand, they make their way toward the rift. Tendrils extend and clip at them, but Chrissy kicks and stomps them off. She's torn from him a second time, but this time she fights like a feral animal. Her eyes are wild and desperate as she claws and tears at the tendrils, kicking and squirming until she's free. He's grabbing her and dragging her to her feet, and she's pretty sure he scoops her up and carries her small frame the rest of the way.
All that she knows is one moment they're in darkness, and the next the rift consumes them. The pull of time and space disorients and alarms her, but she's too exhausted to do anything other than give in to it. She doesn't panic until they wind up on the other side of the rift, all the way at the bottom of the lake.
As water fills her nose and lungs, she pushes herself to swim up to the surface. It takes forever to get there, but she breaks out through the top of the water with a loud gasp. It's nighttime now, stars overhead shining brightly above them. She has no time to appreciate them, because her focus is entirely only finding Johnnie.
She calls out his name as she treads water, trying to see any sign him. Chrissy's prepared to dive back down to pull him up if she needs to. A summer working as a lifeguard a year ago has her ready to leap into action.]
But Chrissy, she takes charge in a way he didn't expect she would, even though he's been telling her all along that she can. Even if they're nothing to this creature at all, they can still make it out of here together. So when she says run, he runs, and he's there at her side the whole time to keep her moving, keep her safe until they can get to, and through, that glowing gash in reality.
He braces for the plunge through darkness and refuses to let it take hold. He expects the flash of memories this time, some not even his own but visions of others who have been lost to the darkness, drifting eternally through the cold cosmos. Lost, lonely souls who succeeded too well in losing themselves to the void in the search for greater understanding, perhaps, or others like him who were never there by choice.
It occurs to him after a long slow moment that he's in water.
The weightlessness past the edge of the void is something unlike actual water on actual Earth, and there's just enough ambient light down here from the rift to reveal that he's drifting not through time and space but simply with the slow current of a lake. His lungs are burning. Survival instincts kick in, and he kicks his way upward with every ounce of strength he can muster until he breaks the surface and finally gulps real air.]
Chrissy?
[Oh - there she is, several yards off. With a groan, relieved she's there and that they're both out of that nightmare, he stays put and treads water for a moment, feeling weirdly drained.
But it's only a moment, and then he's on his way over.]
Hey, fuck that guy, right? Are you okay?
It's a little unfortunate they're having this moment in the middle of a lake though. She wants nothing more than to just latch onto him and hold him, to tell him how brave and wonderful he is. What happens instead is they nearly crash into one another while swimming. She grabs hold of him best as she can in the darkness, both hands pressing to his cheeks so she can kiss him.]
You found me.
[She repeats her words from earlier, so delighted and amazed that he'd be that ferocious just to try and protect her.]
I care about you so much, you know that? And something terrible could've happened to you because of me. [She pauses, only long enough to kiss him again.]
I'm so sorry, Johnnie.
[They'll really need to get up to shore soon. It's too cold to be out in the water at night. But she needs to have this moment with him, to know for sure that he isn't mad at her. ]
Don't be. You just did what you thought you had to do. That's always the right thing.
[He can disagree with it in the moment, too, but she's free to make her choices. Hopefully this was all worth it to her.]
Hey, your leg's hurt, right? Let's get to shore. I wanna have a look at that.
[He'll put off addressing that horrendous corpse and the hideous freak monster who was in there, and his own horrific memories for now. They'll make sure she's all right, get back to the bike, make their next moves from there. So he pulls away from her and offers a smile out of sheer relief as he beckons her along.
Ugh, dragging himself out of the water at the edge is tough. Everything is soaked through, and he's quickly getting cold as the night settles in. Why do they keep winding up in lakes?]