This Is A Millions Times Better Than What We Got - Tumblr Posts

Thinking about what might’ve happened if Dustin and Eddie both made it through the trailer Gate; if the door held and none of the bats followed them.

-

They get a momentary reprieve, dizzy with relief.

And Hawkins splits open.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie screams, and he throws himself over Dustin as the living room is rent apart, shields him from chunks of the ceiling and trailer roof raining down; after one final shudder, everything goes eerily still.

They breathe.

“Max,” Dustin gasps. Scrabbling out from underneath Eddie, he reaches for his walkie, desperate, “Lucas, do you copy? Lucas! Do you goddamn—”

There’s a click and then the horrible sound of Lucas sobbing—trying and failing to get words out.

Eddie’s stomach plummets.

Through the fear and horror, it dawns on him that he needs to step up to the plate—that he’s in charge—and he has to act now.

“We’ve gotta go,” he says, thinking fast. He pulls Dustin up with him, adds, “Leave the walkie here,” jerking his head up to the grotesquely expanded Gate, “so they’ll have it when they get back.”

He’s thankful beyond words that Steve left the keys in the RV.

It’s a tense, silent ride broken only by Dustin sharply saying, “Watch out,” whenever they get too close to a chasm in the road.

Eddie can hardly comprehend what he’s looking at. He remembers saying the shire is burning. Now it sounds like a prophecy fulfilled.

When they reach the Creel House, he drives up onto the grass until the RV is hidden as best he can manage amongst the bushes and thorns.

Erica’s running out of the house by the time they reach the front steps, a walkie in her hand; Eddie’s eyes land on her skinned knees, and his stomach drops all over again.

“Hey, are you hurt, are you hurt?” he babbles, already knowing the answer—but he means is there more than this? I’m here, I’ll help you, I’ll help you.

His hands land on her shoulders, squeezing tight, and Erica—this sharp-tongued, funny, kind kid—breaks down in tears.

“I called a-an ambulance,” she stutters out.

“Hey, you did great. Shh, you did great.” Eddie hugs her far too briefly, but there’s no time. He presses the keys to the RV into her hand. “It’s hidden, hey, see that bush down there? Lock yourself in, keep radioing for the others. Hey, look at me. It’s gonna be okay.”

She nods, eyes shining.

No-one should have to be this fucking brave, Eddie thinks.

Dustin follows him through the house, up the stairs, jumping over the cracks until—

Max in Lucas’s arms, her eyes closed, blood running down her cheeks.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, but he can’t falter now; he pushes back vivid images of Chrissy, of Patrick, and falls to his knees next to Lucas.

“Her—her bones,” Lucas gasps, “I shouldn’t have m-moved her but the ground—Jason, he…”

Eddie follows where Lucas’s eyes darts to, across the cavernous gap in the floor, sees the mangled remains of—

“Jesus.” Eddie swallows through a wave of nausea.

“I hurt—I hurt her,” Lucas whispers.

Eddie puts a hand on his back. “No, you—you did what you had to, man. You saved her, Sinclair, you hear me?” He places two fingers to Max’s throat. Waits. Exhales deeply. “Pulse is still… okay, okay.”

“What?” Lucas tries to check, too. His hand is shaking. “But I—I felt—”

“Trust me, she’s—”

A wail. Sirens, rapidly approaching.

Eddie’s gaze flickers over Lucas and Dustin: their eyes are glassy with horror. It’s not hit them yet, what’s about to happen, and that’s fine. That’s how it should be.

It’s Eddie’s job to know.

The paramedics arrive first.

Eddie moves back. Gives them space.

He doesn’t miss the way their faces pale as they spot him.

“She has a pulse,” he says calmly. “Broken limbs. And her eyes, um, I don’t know what exactly…”

More sirens.

“Eddie,” Dustin says suddenly. Sharp, urgent. “Eddie, what are you doing? You need to go.”

Eddie smiles sadly. Shakes his head.

Footsteps pounding up the stairs. At first it seems to take forever, and then it speeds up all at once; Eddie’s being pulled roughly until he’s standing, handcuffs cutting into his skin, and Dustin is screaming.

“They didn’t know anything,” Eddie finds himself saying. Lucas’s expression shatters; Dustin just looks furious. “I swear, they didn’t—”

“Eddie, stop.” Dustin sounds close to tears. “Stop, stop—” He grabs at Eddie’s arm, only to be pushed aside by an officer. “He didn’t do anything!”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. He tries to catch Dustin’s eye, but he’s already being dragged out. “It’s okay.”

And it’s funny, just an hour ago and this would’ve been one of his worst fears realised. But now he barely feels it.

A hand clamps over his skull, pushes him into the police car.

The view out the window blurs as they speed away—black cut through with a burning red.

Eddie closes his eyes.

He wishes he could’ve…

He thinks of Steve, Robin, Nancy. Wants them to know he tried to protect their kids for as long as possible. Tried to buy them time. He did his best.

No, Eddie The Banished isn’t a hero, he thinks.

He simply did the only thing he could have done.