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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
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?]
Her lungs burn and her leg is throbbing, but none of that matters because they're both safe and they made it out in one piece. They're no more alive than they were before, but at least she got the answers she was looking for.]
At least now I know what happened. I don't have to spend the rest of my life wondering.
[But maybe it would've been better for her mentally to keep wondering, rather than see what she did. She sidesteps around that as she moves to sit up, positioning herself so he can come over and look at her leg. It's not in great shape after the tendril grabbing her, but at least it's not bad enough that it might kill her all over again.
The chill in the air might though, and her teeth chatter as she starts to work off her sweater. They really need to stop spending so much time in lakes. It's starting to become a bad habit.]
What's the verdict?
[It's not like they can go to a hospital. If it's that bad off, they'll just have to bandage it with whatever they can get their hands on.]
Pretty scuffed up, but - well, I was gonna say you'll live, but that ain't right.
[It's a bitter sort of humor, but that's what he's got right now. Content that she's not bleeding dangerously, he stands and offers her a hand up once she's done fighting with her sweater. He is absolutely dripping head to toe, but he can't be bothered to do anything about it right now other than leave.
A fire would warm things up nicely.]
Oughta get back to the bike an' we can get you fixed up. How far out did we end up? D'you know where we are?
[She quietly reassures him, trying to wring out her clothes enough that she feels comfortable to walk back. It takes her some looking around, but it's not hard to orient herself toward where skull rock is located. From there, she knows the exact walking path back to the trailer park.]
We're about a mile or so away from where we parked. So about a thirty minute walk from here? Come on.
[She reaches for his hand, so she can drag him along after her. It's also nice to have him right there for support if she stumbles or anything. That, and just having her hand on him serves as a great anchor to keep her focused. There's so many thoughts going on in her head right now that it's hard to stay fully present.]
I think I'm ready to just get out of Hawkins and never look back. What about you?
[He's probably more than ready to just burn the entire town down, and she's so tired and drained that she can't even tell him he shouldn't. Besides, a part of her is so haunted by everything she's seen today that she doesn't particularly want to argue with him about it.]
[But he's gonna walk it and that's that. Fuck this entire goddamned town.
He glances upward while they walk, but the stars just aren't a comfort to him. Once, maybe. He always preferred night over day, and still does, but some of it will forever be unsettling to him now too.
His jaw sets in a firm line as he considers her question.]
This town? Deserves payback for what it put you through. Besides, you saw what that motherfucker did, I don't need to remind you of the details. And those gaps in the world that go to that hellscape? Dunno why here or what the fuck is wrong with Hawkins, but I'm not gonna leave without giving it the sendoff it's fuckin' earned. I don't turn my back on that kinda bullshit and leave it untouched.
Either way, no argument makes itself known. She walks quietly for a little while after, silently amused by the squelching sound of their shoes. But this isn't the time for smiling or laughter, and she lets the moment pass without mention.]
If we can keep that thing from getting out and hurting more people, then we're doing the right thing.
[Eventually she does speak up, sounding convinced that at least they're going to make a difference in Hawkins before leaving. That's enough to at least give her a little life to her step as they keep walking. There's more she wants to ask him about what they've just gone through, but thinks maybe that's better to happen after he gets some of this pent up anger out of his system.]
[Now, realistically, again, he's one person. She makes two, but they still only have the one bike. There's only so much damage they can cause before they need to blow town or risk getting caught, and he still didn't manage to pick up a gas can or anything more explosive than the alcohol. So... it'll be a limited amount of damage. And it's not like he can even just target these rips in reality either because can't burn a lake. Could poison it though, maybe, but admittedly that's something he knows less about.]
We can start with that trailer where you got offed, an' see how far we get before we pick up a buncha pigs. Head for the next big city then, see how much I have to work to lose 'em. You know, it's easier when there's a bunch of us. Cops get all confused about who to follow when we can scatter in every direction.
[Man, he really does miss those guys. California will be there when he gets there, though.]
[But maybe she has enough pent up anger to help him out instead of holding him back. She hopes so, because there's increasing worry that he's going to get sick of her. Especially after all that he's seen here.
What if he can't even look at her anymore because he'll always see her how he did as a corpse? What if he thinks she's bad luck or just some weak rich girl that doesn't deserve his attention?
There's so many worries that she can't vocalize just yet, but she tries to rid herself of them by bringing his hand up to her mouth to press a kiss against it.]
But I can totally set something on fire for you. Just give me a lighter and point me in the right direction.
Wanna learn how to make a Molotov cocktail?
[As if it's hard to do, but it has him grinning again.]
Hell, you even heard of one? Let's start there.
[she's blushing because oh my god she's so sheltered he actually has to ask that. But it's sweet that he wants to explain it to her, so she laughs. It's strange that talking about Molotov cocktails makes her smile, but here they are. She's pretty sure she's a lost cause at this point.]
It'd be pretty metal to learn how to make one.
[Not to steal the words of a friend, but she's going to in this case. She would be so badass throwing a Molotov cocktail at the trailer where she died. Her hand pulls free from his as she skips ahead, pretending to throw one toward the trees they're walking through.]
If you seen movies you've seen most of what there is to know. That's what I nicked all those bottles for anyway, back at your place. Thought maybe they'd be for your ex's house, but now we got somethin' better to burn.
[Or at least a primary target. That house of her ex's is still on his list if they can screech on by on the bike with one bomb held in reserve for it.
And yeah, he'd seen that look she gave him when she saw what all he'd put in that bag, so he gives an eyebrow-raise at her in return. A clever little "see?" because it's not like he'd taken all of those to drink.]
Maybe we can drive by Jason's on the way out of town.
[But really, he's not even on her mind anymore. She's moved on so far past him that he doesn't matter. Why care about ruining Jason's life, when she has a much better guy to look forward to an afterlife with?]
I think we should have a contest, and see who can make the biggest fire. The winner gets — oh! We're almost there!
[They've reached the edge of the woods, and the long slope leading down into the trailer park. Once again, she pulls away from him to hurry ahead.]
[The winner gets what? Doesn't matter. The winner gets to have an excellent time causing mayhem and that is its own reward.
He sprints along after her, eager as ever to get back to the bike and onward to the absolute best part of the night. They've sure as hell already been through the worst of it.
Minutes later, they're back at the bike. Johnnie lifts his stolen backpack from where he'd left it, then finds his lighter.]
You know what? You get first throw. Scarf in the bottle as a wick, light it, make sure it burns real strong, then you get it outta your hands fast as you can, in through that door. Got it?
[If anyone deserves to burn this first particular trailer, it's her. He'll prep the other bottles so they can light and drive as they go. There's real, cruel mischief in his eyes now at the sheer anticipation of the destruction they're about to cause.]
She whispers an apology to him as she has Johnnie help her prepare a bottle for the throwing. It's sweet that he's letting her have the first throw, that he trusts her to be able to do it without messing things up.
Her smile turns into a wild grin by the time they finally get the scarf in place. She waits until he's got a few more prepped before she fiddles with the lighter and gets her bottle lit. It doesn't start out burning strong, so she holds it away from her face and watches closely as things start going.
Maybe she holds onto it a little too long, because she panics as it starts to get too hot and she hurls it toward the trailer with a gasp. It manages to make it through the front door, but just barely. They've really got to work on her throwing arm.
The second it hits the ground though, she steps back until she's safely pressed up against him. Guilt instantly fills her, but it leaves just as quickly as it comes on.]
Do we need to throw another?
[She's already going to grab one of the bottles he's prepped.]
[He glances toward it though just to be sure, and decides, fuck it. He wants it to burn faster.]
Don't want anything comin' back outta that fucked up place, though. Here, I got it.
[Her throw was fine, he's not bothered, but he wants to get a move on. He hops on the bike and gives her a hand, balances the open bag of bottles with their soaked scarves between his knees, then passes one back to her to hold onto.]
Gotta get you a lighter, next gas station. You ready?
[He'll just catch this on fire real quick, give it a few seconds as he starts up the bike, then fling it in through that door with a whoop of joy.]
Hell yeah! Here, pick one!
[They'll take a nice slow little loop through this trailer park, just to give her the tutorial version before they take to the main streets to get out of here before the cops notice the fires. That decided, he holds his lighter back over his shoulder for her to take.]
They blur through Hawkins like that, the two of them laughing and hollering. The girl that's on the back of his bike isn't the same one that met him a few days ago. She's come so far in that time that she doesn't even recognize herself anymore.
It's as she guides him by Jason's house that she lets him take over. Throwing the molotovs has been cathartic for her so far, but she's thinking maybe he should do this in lieu of beating her ex-boyfriend up. That way they'll get out of town faster, which is sounding pretty nice since they're both still soaking wet and messy.]
I think you should do this one. It's the last two bottles before we need to get out of here.
[There's police and fire sirens in the background, and she isn't sure if they're edging in on them or simply following the wake of their destruction. It doesn't really matter though. She knows they'll get this done, she'll wrap her arms around him tight as can be, and they'll make their great escape into the unknown.]
But that's all right. He'll get her back to California and then she can be right there with him as the whole crew becomes that wild cyclone of violence against whoever they please.
They reach that fucker's house that she'd been apparently stuck with for god knows how long, and he's all too happy to take over. One bottle crashes against a window and drips fire all over the windowsill where it soon takes hold, seeking a way inside. The second smashes into the front door, and the paint quickly peels as the fire eats its way up the wood.
The sirens are to be expected, and he takes to the side streets to avoid those assholes who are probably taking a direct route toward the fires. It's easier than it should be, he thinks, to simply vanish into the night - but maybe that's one real advantage of it being just the two of them on one bike, plus it's not like half the emergency response will even see them, maybe. He doesn't care why or how, but as fire blooms behind them and with one final cheer and a fist in the air, they're well on their way out of Hawkins and heading south.
He's still laughing a good few minutes later.]
Fuck that was good. Hey Chrissy, you got a pretty good arm on you, ya know that? Too fuckin' good. Wish we coulda stuck around to enjoy it, but y'know what, glad to be outta there. Fuck Hawkins!
[It wasn't even that amazing a victory, really, because anyone can trash a few trailers in a small town, but he doesn't care. He's just like this any time he gets to destroy something.]
[She's a little amazed with the praise, but also can't stop laughing. Hearing that he thinks she has a pretty good arm makes her want to preen, but she settles for holding up her middle finger as they drive off and get on the road.]
Yeah, fuck Hawkins!
[Sure, she has friends she's leaving behind. She had a life there. But it's only now that she's actually living. She's still laughing and riding high as she curls both arms around him, holding on tight. The occasional kiss is pressed to his cheek or the back of his neck, the adrenaline giving way to a need to just be close to him.]
We can celebrate together once we find someplace to stop.
[She sounds absolutely excited about that, and in good spirits as they get on the open road. They idly chat here and there, but mostly listen to the radio as they drive. It's an hour or so before they pull off the road into a motel parking lot. Once again, he goes into the lobby and comes back to get her.
They make their way into the room and help one another take their damp clothes off before they fall into bed together naked. She's quick to burrow her way under the blankets, eager for a chance to get nice and warm. There's room for him there too, of course, and she holds open the blanket in invitation.
Cuddling is nice in general, but cuddling with Johnnie is absolutely perfect. He holds her close and they share soft kisses here and there. The body heat combined with the blanket is enough to get her to stop shivering, and soon they both seem to settle together contently.]
Maybe we should talk about what happened.
[She says after they've been cuddling for a while, her fingers toying with his.]
I mean, you're still able to look at me and think I'm pretty, right?
[That's mostly a joke. It's not exactly what she's worried about, but it's a lighter way of addressing her discomfort with what they both saw in that strange place.]
He has his nose pressed into her hair and legs intertwined with hers when she speaks, and he's quick to press another kiss to her lips at those words.]
Of course, babe. You're gorgeous.
[But, she's right, that was really fucked up and they're lucky they're both here to talk about it. The contentedness fades from his face and he rolls onto his back, frowning up at the ceiling.]
I'm real sorry that happened to you. Still wish I'd busted some kneecaps. That... thing we saw in there, that ugly gray freak, what was that?
[Picking up on his discontent, she shifts to sit up a little. The blanket shifts down off of her, and she finds herself pressing her thumb against his chin as she looks at him.]
Maybe he was human once. But he's a monster now.
[And really, that's all she wants to say about it. It's with a soft sigh that she moves to lay back down with him, resting her head on his chest. Not wanting him to feel upset or even angry for long, her head turns and she presses a kiss against his skin.]
Do you want to get a shower?
[They could probably both use one, to be completely fair. Not that he really cares, but it's been a wild few days and jumping in lakes doesn't really count as getting cleaned up.
Besides, the hot water will feel good, and it'll feel even better with her up against him. It's thoughts like these that quickly pull him away from thinking about everything he went through in there too. He knows it's not obvious to her, all those overwhelming thoughts and nightmares that still haunt his memories, and he figures it's probably best that way. She has enough to deal with already. The image of her hanging there, broken and tortured...
Right, fuck, shower. The few seconds' delay he can attribute to just being worn out. He drags himself out of bed and stumbles toward the shower, and gets the hot water turned on. He'll let her get in first, though, take the best spot under the showerhead so she can let that warmth really seep in, because he can truly be a gentleman to his girl. She deserves a little special treatment after all that today.]
Your leg still doin' all right? Probably shoulda saved some of the alcohol to get it cleaned up sooner.
Of course, once he's in the shower with her, she doesn't hesitate to step back to press in close against him. It's nice and peaceful, even as he questions how her leg is doing.]
It hurts, but I hardly notice it anymore.
[They'll need to treat and wrap it, but maybe it would be fine to wait until tomorrow to do that. Her focus right now anyway is on him. Slowly, she turns so she's facing him. Hand pressed against his cheek at first, she slowly checks him over and feels for any sign of injury. Her touch drifts down his body, only stopping once she reaches his hip.
She steps back then so she's only halfway under the water, her other hand going to thread her fingers through his wet hair on the back of his head. His forehead is guided to press against hers, and her lips claim his in an achingly tender kiss.]
What about you? Are you doing okay?
[She doesn't mean just physically. Here, where they're hidden away from the world and it's just them, he can tell her whatever is on his mind. It's safe.]
[Blotches of blue and purple bloom across his back and an arm. Nothing he can't handle, though. It's why the leather and denim, of course - as far as clothes go, they do a good job being armor, and he gets in his fair share of scrapes where it's needed.
He debates with himself before deciding, fine, he'll say more. She's asking. That's different from dumping things on her she doesn't want. It's still hard to talk about, though. Hard to know what to say and how to say it when there's just so much. The jumble it was in before has sorted itself into something more orderly, though - not fully coherent, certainly not fully chronological, but the memories are sharper.]
Sorry I got kinda short with you while we were in there. On the way in was the worst, but the whole time it wouldn't leave me all the way alone. Kept makin' me remember the shit I saw when I got black-brained.
[It is crystal clear to him now why the right side of his face is all ripped up, and it wasn't just the vide noir trying to bust out through his skin. No, he really must've let loose trying to tear his own skin off out there in the desert before his body went still.]
Just hard to be there an' see straight, that's all. Mighta almost drowned on the way back out, too, come to think of it. I lost track of where I was an' how long I'd been there. But - you know. Don't worry about it.
[He feels compelled to add that at the end. He's not looking for pity or sympathy or anything like it, but she asked.]
[She stops herself there, and instead of finishing that thought she just shrugs her shoulders. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, and she can do that for him.]
Well, we can worry about each other now. It's okay.
[Which seems like a good compromise, as well as a genuine assertion for the relationship they've fallen into. They haven't talked about it, but she knows there's a connection there. He wouldn't have gone through all of that, wouldn't have fought so hard for her, if he didn't feel something for her. And because of that, she feels an ache in her chest at the thought of him going through something so awful.
He doesn't want her pity though. She knows him well enough to know that. Her fingertips still gently brush along that scar to his face though, not shying away from showing him that it doesn't bother her. ]
We'll take care of each other too.
[The words are a promise, as she reaches over to grab the little bottle of shampoo that the motel has left in the tub for them. She starts to work her soap covered hands through his hair at that, making sure to take care of him before worrying about herself.]
Some part of him is still a little freaked out by how quickly things have happened. But, hell, maybe they're really just that good a fit for each other. Nothing wrong with that. And if the future changes, it changes. That's fine too. For now he relaxes as her fingers massage his scalp and closes his eyes. She does take care of him well.]
Told ya I got your back. Glad you've got mine, too. You can be downright ferocious when you set your mind to it.
[Or if not ferocious then very determined, but "ferocious" sounds cooler. It's how he'd want to be seen if he was in her shoes. She's just a cute little thing with a buried streak of fire in her that had been waiting all this time to burst into life.
He presses a quick kiss to the bridge of her nose, then reaches for that shampoo himself so he can return the favor and scrub his fingers through her hair. There's still bits of otherworldly mud caked in there, and it's satisfying to watch it run out and wash away.]