cheerfire | would someone care to classify

would someone care to classify

[ This was stupid. Scratch that, this was something more than stupid. It was pointless, hopeless, insane, a waste of time-- the list went on. But after everything he had seen after the Upside Down, why should this be any more fantastical than the rest of it? It doesn't take long from when he's out of the hospital that the research begins. They're out of the trailer park now, officially condemned, but his uncle had been given enough hush money to set them up at a new place, an apartment just outside of town. Even though Eddie has been officially been cleared of all wrong doing, it was still better for him to keep a low profile.

As soon as they were settled in the new place, Eddie had shut himself away in his new room with the decrepit books he had scrounged up in the library. They were all about death, the dead, the afterlife-- and how to make contact. Call him crazy-- and most people probably would, if they had known what he was up to. But Eddie had shut out the rest of the world as he healed, threw himself into macabre studies as his body healed. The only thing he's been able to think about since leaving the hospital, since that night, really, is her. Chrissy Cunningham. And he has been consumed by the idea of somehow contacting her, apologizing for how he's failed her. It's the least he can do, right?

And so it's late one early spring night that Eddie slips from the apartment, fires up the van and makes a beeline for the old trailer. A brown paper grocery bag sits beside him on the passenger seat, his only companion on the silent drive over. The move is bright and heavy in the sky as he pulls up in front of the trailer, still wrapped up in caution tape. Not that the feds have done much about it, and so he's able to sneak inside without much issue. Every single nerve ending feels like it's on fire, and it's all he can do to keep from trembling. He hasn't been in the trailer since it happened, and it feels deeply wrong to be here now.

For once, determination wins out over fear and anxiety, and Eddie goes about unpacking the bag and spreading the contents out over the living room floor. He spreads out candles, bundled sage, grave dirt, a wilted lily. All of them are arranged carefully, the candles lit, as he flips slowly through pages of a heavy, musty, tome. There's no way this will work, he thinks, but trying might make him feel better. Maybe he can move on after that. Cast in the glow of candlelight, Eddie fumbles through several lines of latin, words that he only vaguely knows the meaning of. Then he sets the book down, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. ]

Chrissy Cunningham. [ It's the first time he's spoken her name aloud since... since then. And it sends spears of guilt that drive themselves deep into his heart. ] I call upon-- [ This is so stupid, he thinks. Pathetic. ] I call upon your spirit. Reveal yourself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Between Chrissy's experience with dewing, and Eddie's with homemade stitches, they manage to get him pieced back together without too much trouble. Compared to the rest of the evening, this part feels strangely benign, normal, in comparison. Eddie does his best to remain stoic, but it's impossible not to flinch a little. All the while, he keeps his gaze on her, flashes her a smile whenever he can manage to summon one up. All that really matters is he's no longer in danger of bleeding out, and Chrissy has accomplished that. ]

Oh... [ That question manages to take him by surprise, despite the fact that he should have seen it coming. She's likely got all manner of questions beyond that, so he shouldn't be shying away from answering. ] It's been a few months.

[ He takes a moment to look at her work, tentatively flexes his fingers as he twists his arm slowly back and forth. Now all they need is to wrap it up, and she is quick to wind gauze around the stitches. ]

I graduated, actually. Think they just passed me because of all the... you know. [ He shrugs, finds he doesn't want to speak much about school. ] And when the government finally came through to clean things up, me and Wayne got a fat chunk of hush money. [ He takes a breath, gives her another little smile. ] That's what's gonna get us out of here.

[She tries to smile, but it falls flat. Now that the initial terror and rush is over, she's left with a lot of questions. And a lot of concerns. But she's glad to be alive again, so she knows that her questions don't really matter in the long run.]

You graduated? Eddie, that's...I'm so proud of you. Really.

[And really, she is. Her sentiment is genuine, not any part of it a lie. She can't let herself focus on the hush money he has, because her death is the reason he has it in the first place. All she can do is swallow a little, trying to ignore that she's been dead a few months and he never was able to move on. She's close to crying and doesn't want to actually let the tears fall.]

Do you have any idea where we'll go?

[She asks as she finishes wrapping his arm, and moves to stand up so she can gather all of the supplies and put them back into the box.]

[ Eddie can see it in her face, the little ways her forced smile cracks at the edges. It hadn't occurred to him that hearing about his life going on might have hurt her, but he sees it almost as soon as he's finished speaking And now that he doesn't have to worry about bleeding out anymore, Eddie wastes no time in practically launching himself forward, throwing both arms around her in a tight embrace. He still can't believe it, that's she's really here and alive and in his arms. ]

I'm sorry you missed it. [ He's sorry for so much, really, but he needs to figure out a way to let that go. She's here now, and that's what matters. ] But we-- we can make all new memories now.

[ When Eddie pulls back, he's smiling, nearly ear to ear. With the money he's now got tucked away, they can go anywhere, do anything, and never have to worry. He loves her, he knows this deep within himself, but there's still so much to learn. What things make her happy, or make her sad, there's still so much he wants to know. But for the moment, all he wants is to to offer her what comfort he can. ]

We can go anywhere. You wanna see California? Or the mountains? We never have to think about Hawkins again.

[It's obvious that he wants to please her. No, more than that. He wants to impress her. And she's perfectly impressed with the fact he cares about her enough to nearly kill himself in order to bring her back to life. A declaration telling him so sits on the edge of her tongue, but she swallows it down before the thought can be heard out in the open. He's smiling too much and is too excited for her to bring him down now.

Her arms stay wrapped around him, glad to be pressed in close. They're both warm now, but she still greedily soaks up all the body heat she can from him. There's still a slight chill in her bones that hasn't gone away entirely.]

California, really? [It's easy for her to sound amazed by the idea, because she honestly is.] I've always wanted to go. We could see the beach! And the really tall trees!

[At least she thinks the Redwoods are in California. She's not too sure right now, and it's really the least of her concerns at the moment. All she's worried about is his arm, and the fact that she shouldn't technically even exist. What are they going to do for her identity?

Chrissy Cunningham is dead. It looks like she's been reborn as Chrissy Munson, because his name is what she latches onto as an attempt to form some kind of new identity for herself.]

It's just, I'm a little on edge after...everything. [And she's sure he has to be too.] Maybe we can just head out and see where we end up?

[He's right. They can make all new memories now, just the two of them. There isn't any need to worry about who she is and who she's supposed to be. He'll take care of her. He's proven that much tonight.]

As long as it's safe and we're together, I don't care where we go first.

California sounds good to me.

[ And he can really see it, the two of them in some tiny house by the beach. The music scene is good in California, and Chrissy-- she could do whatever she wants, even if he doesn't have much of an idea of what that is. He just wants her to be happy, because if anyone in the world deserves that, it's Chrissy Cunningham. He holds her tight for a long while, doesn't even want to let her go enough to speak. ]

I know... and I'm sorry. [ There's so much he's sorry for, really. Sorry he let her die in the first place. Sorry he left her alone for two days when he promised one. Sorry that he didn't tell her about the blood sacrifice. Sure, she's alive, but he's lied to her almost the entire way. ] It's all gonna be okay from now on.

[ It's not a promise he can really make, but Eddie intends to keep it. Wherever they go, he just wants to be able to give her the life that was stolen from her. Eddie takes his time, presses a line of kisses starting at her temple and tracing down her neck. All he wants is for her to feel loved, to feel that she belongs on the side of existence. ]

Let's get cleaned up here, and then we can hit the road, okay? I don't know about you, but I'm dying for a shower.

[It's almost surreal to go back to being in a place where he can kiss her. And as much as her body responds to him, her mind is exhausted and overwhelmed. She definitely feels loved, more so than any other person on Earth. No one else has a boyfriend that would do what he's done to save her.

She's left wondering if that's the right way to describe him. He hadn't been her boyfriend before, but they definitely had a thing. Chrissy's distracted momentarily by turning her head to press a kiss against his hair, and then again to his temple. When he guides her in for a proper kiss, her lips instinctively part and she's all too happy to show him just how much he means to her.]

Hey, Eddie?

[Her voice is a whisper, lips brushing against his with how close they're pressed.]

Are you my boyfriend now?

I...

[ Eddie trails off, his throat suddenly tightening. Because, yes, obviously, he is. But it's not as simple as just saying that. Only a few hours ago she had been dead, a ghost, nearly a figment of his imagination. His mind whirls back to that meeting in the woods, wonders what would have happened if things had just been normal. If he had taken her to his trailer, sold her the drugs, babysat her when she tried them and-- yeah, he thinks he would have tried to kiss her then.

And after that night, maybe she would have broken up with Jason, maybe he would have asked her out on a date at the drive in. They could have shared candy and kisses in the front of his van before making their way to the back of it. Even though she's back, some part of him mourns for that sweet, teenage innocence that they've lost. ]

Of course I'm your boyfriend. [ He laughs, though it's a little forced. This whole thing is so weird, so outside the norm, even for someone who already lives on the fringes of normal. Is it okay to date the girl you've brought back from the dead? He has no idea. ] I mean-- if you want me to be.

[It's hard for her to really process the gravity of what she's lost. What they've lost, really. All she can focus on is Eddie. Every fiber of her being screams out to him, just wanting to keep him close. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie...her mind says his name on repeat, almost an instinctive chirp in the back of her head. She's so happy to be there with him, to get to have this second chance.]

Yeah. [Her admission is soft, almost timid.] I want you to be.

[If things had gone differently, this conversation would've happened months ago. As it is, she's grateful they're getting to have it now. No matter how weird everything feels, she keeps telling herself it will all settle and make sense to her eventually. Things won't be overwhelming forever.

Right now though, she's incredibly out of sorts. Just the thought of undressing and working a shower and getting clean feels impossible to her. It's too much to handle, and maybe she should be alarmed by that.]

Does that mean it's okay if you help me in the shower?

Then you're my girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham.

[ Saying it out loud sends a burst of butterflies through him, that start in his stomach and flutter their way outwards. Because really-- he shouldn't be saying it, because this chance was stolen from both of them. But here he is, saying it and feeling the elation rise up in his chest and it almost makes him want to cry. He still hasn't truly accepted that her death wasn't his fault, and as such, resolves silently to protect her, forever. He winds his arms around her, holds her close enough to hear the wild beating of his heart in his chest. ]

Oh-- [ And then she asks that and of course it should be fine. It is fine, he just-- it's not like he's a prude, and he would very much like to see her naked. But that doesn't stop a shy, boyish heat from creeping up his neck, tinting his cheeks pink. It shouldn't make him shy, not when he's done what he's done tonight, but he still manages to feel that way. ] Yeah, of course.

[ Eddie tries to set it aside, the silly shyness, because she needs him right now. She's navigating the world in an impossibly bizarre sort of way, and he wants to be there to help her. So he gets the both of them up, leads her by the hand through the apartment to the bathroom. Eddie starts the shower, leaves for a moment while the water gets hot to fetch a change of clothes for the both of them. He picks out a shirt and sweats for himself, spends a little bit longer finding something for Chrissy. She's so much smaller than he is, but he manages to find something older, smaller, that won't completely swallow her up.

When he trots back into the bathroom the room is warm and humid, slowly filling with steam. He makes the first move, carefully removes his shirt before pausing, waiting for her. ]

Is it okay if I join you?

[When he gets back, Chrissy's head is tipped back enough that she can stare up at the steam that's filling the room. She's looking at it with fascination, something that once seemed so unordinary is now able to be seen in a new light. Everything in the world is a wonder, and now that she's died and come back she feels like she can truly appreciate all of it. But with as taken by the steam as she is, there's a pang of fear.

Did she come back the right way? Is she normal? She can't remember ever watching steam fill up a bathroom like this before.

Thankfully, he tears her away from her focused state, and she slowly turns toward him. His shirt is off, and she promptly moves to remove hers. Following his lead makes this easier, makes her understand what she should do. It's not like she doesn't completely remember the steps necessary to take a shower. It's more like her brain hasn't fully kicked into gear with everything just yet.]

I want you to.

[She murmurs in response to his question, slowly peeling away her blood soaked and dirty layers. Once again, she reminded that her cheerleading uniform that she died in can't be what she was buried in. And again, she wonders what happened to her body.

Chrissy stands there naked, head dipped downward to look at her stomach. It's just as flat as ever, nearly concave when she breathes in. And as her palms press against her stomach, she feels the familiar flutter of her muscles and the way she can feel her stomach expand to press firm against her hands tells her this is definitely her body. Somehow, whatever he's done, she's...herself. She just wishes that she felt like it completely.

He has to take her by the hand and lead her into the shower once he's undressed, and as he positions her beneath the stream of water she just stands there and lets it fall over her. He stands behind her, and she shuffles until she turns to face him. They're probably supposed to use soap or something here, but this isn't her shower and she doesn't even know what he has.

It hits her all at once, a sense of sheer elation combined with so many overwhelming emotions. Fear, uncertainty, and anxiety threaten to win out over her happiness and relief. There's no more dark void, no more emptiness. She exists again. And because of that, she cries. She stands there beneath the perfectly lovely hot water that's pouring over her, and she sobs.

When he pulls her in close, her arms wrap around him, not quite hugging as much as clinging to him like he's her anchor.]

[ Eddie does his best not to stare once she's stripped down, because he knows for as much as he's gone through tonight, she's gone through impossibly more. She's still trying to find her footing existing in the world again, and he doesn't want to add an extra layer of complication. So instead focuses on getting himself undressed, sticks a hand into the spray to make sure it isn't too hot. Once they're both ready, and he's deemed the shower just the right temperature, Eddie helps her in.

He isn't quite sure how long it's been before he notices that she's crying. Of course she's crying, he doesn't blame her for crying. He just wishes she wasn't. Not because he can't handle it, but because he doesn't want her to every feel this way. Without a word, he pulls her close, holds her and lets her just cry. She has every right to cry, and so he says nothing, does nothing except keep her close.

Eddie doesn't know how long it's been, time seems so insignificant in this moment. But eventually he eases himself back, reaches for his bottle of shampoo. It's a musky, woodsy sort of scent, and he begins working his fingers through her hair. He turns the two of them, gets Chrissy beneath the spray so he can rinse the suds from her hair. Then he sets about lathering up a washcloth, goes slow as he washes her body. He takes his time with every inch of her, slow and methodical. When he's done, he stands again and kisses her. It's a soft, careful, sort of kiss, not wanting to add on to whatever she's already feeling. ]

I think you're all good. [ He says as he pulls back, pushing wet hair out of her face. ] How are you feeling?

I feel...

[She doesn't know how she feels, but at least she's not openly sobbing anymore. She's just sniffling a little, and even manages a smile as he pushes soaked hair out of her face so he can see her fully. The way he's just kissed her makes her weak in the knees, and it's then that she's very aware of the fact they're naked together in the shower.

Oh my gosh, she's showering with Eddie Munson.]

Warm.

[Flushed and heated in a way that suddenly has little to do with the hot water. But he doesn't have to know that.]

And safe.

[Somehow, she thinks he'll want to know that. To hear that she feels safe here with him.]

I think I'm better now. I'm really sorry for crying like that.

Come on, you don't have to apologize for that.

[ He wants to encourage her, wants her to know that what he says is true. At the same time, he thinks he comes close to understanding. There's so much she must be feeling right now, crying is the least she could do. And he's all too happy just to hold her through it, to give her all the time she needs. It's maybe a little funny, the both of them naked in the shower, pressed together without any expectations. As attracted to her as he had been, as he is, he doesn't worry about that now. ]

I'm always gonna keep you safe, okay? [ As though on cue, his grip around her tightens. He holds her close, safe and secure, and is reluctant to ease backward. But he manages it, somehow, lets himself take in the sight of her. ]

Think you could help me with my hair? [ He tries to make it sound playful, hopes that he can provide a decent distraction. She has every right to feel anxious and unsure, but he still wants to do anything he can to put her at ease. ] I know it's kind of a mess.

[He'll keep her safe. Eddie is always going to keep her safe. He's promised. That's enough to make her smile a little, nodding as he asks her to tend to his hair. She doesn't even stop to think it might be a distraction, Chrissy so focused on trying to find a way to take care of him in return. He's done so much for her, the least she can do is wash his hair.

She quickly contents herself with working his shampoo through his hair, rising up on her tiptoes to make sure she reaches every single inch a few times over. His playful tone has put her in a slightly lighter state of mind, and she hums one of her old favorite pop songs as she works. Every so often her soapy hand will reach down to grab hold of his arm, almost as if she's afraid she might slip away if she isn't tethered to him near constantly.]

Eddie? [Her voice is soft as she guides him to start rinsing his hair, and works her sudsy hands over his body to scrub him clean. She seems to be completely oblivious to the fact he's naked and her hands are all over his body.]

You're sure there's no way I'll be pulled back to where I was before, right?

[ Eddie is just beginning to relax, to enjoy the feeling of her fingers in his hair when she asks that. The question makes his guts turn to the ice, makes his blood go cold even under the warm spray of water. It's because he doesn't know the answer, but knows what he wants the answer to be. He's promised to keep her safe, and he'll do anything to make that happen, but he can't promise her what she needs to hear the most. As much as he wants to make that promise, to tell her what she needs to hear, he can't promise something he doesn't know to be true. ]

I... I really don't know.

[ He turns towards her, his face solemn, as he goes again to wrap his arms around her. Was this all a mistake? Has bringing her back caused more harm to her than good? In the moment he feels so stupidly selfish. Maybe he should have let her rest in peace, where she wouldn't have to worry about such things. ]

If this-- if this is too much. [ He pulls her tighter then, feels like he's the one about to start crying. Which again sends the shame that ties itself to selfishness flooding through him. ] Then I'm sorry. I know this is... so much. And you're here now because of me. [ Dead because of him, too. ] I don't want you to be afraid.

No, it's not too much. And I'm not afraid.

[She reassures him, even as she's not really able to put into words how she's feeling. It's a complicated matter, but above everything else, she's just glad to be here with him. So she kisses him, slow and sweet, trying to show him how she feels since words seem to be failing her right now.]

I just don't want to get to have you for real, and then lose you all over again.

[And she knows that he feels the same way, that he'd do whatever it took to keep her there with him.

As he finishes rinsing off, she makes sure that she's the one to turn off the water. She wants him to see that she's capable of doing small things, that there's parts of her that are still normal. She just has to come back into her own, is all.

He steps out first and grabs the towels, and wraps up in his own before he bundles her up in the other. They dry off and she watches him get dressed, before letting him help her into the clothes he's picked out for her. The oversized fit makes her giggle and grin, and she seems a little more like herself despite the clothes being so out of place from her usual style.

She isn't sure which of them kiss the other while they're in the middle of getting dressed and ready to head out of the bathroom. All that she knows is that he lifts her to rest on the edge of the bathroom counter, and she greedily pulls him in to stand between her legs as she takes her time enjoying deeper and far more languid kisses.

Her hands rest on his shoulders, and when she's had her fill her mouth parts from his, but her hands in his hair guide him to rest her forehead against his. It's perfect, a wonderful and sweet moment that she's so grateful they get to share.]

Do you have your things packed and ready to go?

[She doesn't have anything she can bring, so it's really just whatever he wants to grab that's keeping them there. The thought of getting to be on the road with him is exciting, and even if she isn't back to 100% yet, she knows she will be soon. She just needs a little time.]

[ Being out of the shower makes him feel a little less exposed, a little more sure of himself. It's just so intimate, a place where he feels like his heart is laid bare, and he finds he can take a cool breath of relief once the steam subsides He's been so worried about her, he hasn't taken a moment to think about how he feels, and this serves as a welcomed reprise. Whatever comes after tonight, she'll be close to him, held in his heart. ]

You're not gonna lose me.

[ That much he can be sure of, because it would take both heaven and earth to pull her out of his arms now. He'll do anything for her, anything to keep her here, both in his arms and on this earth. Whatever it takes. ]

I still need to pack, but it won't take me long.

[ All he needs is to tuff some clothes into a bag. The government hush money is more than he ever thought he would see in his life. He could leave right now, completely naked, and would still be alright. He just wants to be with her, no questions, no doubts. Chrissy is all he needs. ]

[She smiles a little and nods in understanding. As he ushers her out of the bathroom and into his room, she stands off to the side and watches him. There's magazines on the floor by his dresser that she helpfully picks up, and tucks them into his bag for him. While he's getting clothes, he contents herself with feeling helpful. She grabs anything out in open reach and puts it into his bags for him. There's a half used bottle of cologne, a couple of belts, a half eaten candy bar, bottle of lotion, and a box of condoms that all get slipped inside.

Whether he notices she isn't sure. But he finishes up and gets her to sit on the bed so he can help her get some socks and shoes on. They're her bloodied and gross white sneakers, but they're at least something. He promises to get her new things when they get somewhere safe. That makes her smile, and she follows along after him as he starts to move things out to his van. Getting out of here fast is the priority, and she can understand that much.]

We can drive for a few hours and find somewhere to pull off the road.

[She sounds more like her old self as he helps her into the passenger seat. It's hard to imagine what it must be like to willingly give up everything. Her situation is a little different. She was killed, she had no choice. But Eddie does. He's doing all of this for her. Her heart swells when she thinks of how much he must love her.]

Are you sure you're ready to do this?

[ In the flurry of him moving around the room, Eddie doesn't notice any of the things she's tucked into his bag. Those will all be pleasant surprises for later. He tries to make sure to pack things that will suit her in the interim, shirts and pants that he's already grown out of. Once they've gotten themselves far from Hawkins, when they feel like they can breathe again, he'll take her out shopping, but her whatever she wants. Eddie zips up the bag with a bit of effort, having to press the sides together to get it closed. ]

I've been ready for a long time.

[ He says it almost without thinking, because that's-- well, that's a heavy sort of thing to say to her. But it's true, it had first passed through his mind when they had met in the woods. Eddie had seen how she was hurting, and had only wanted to whisk her up and get her away from everything. He can do that now, with their circumstances so drastically changed. ]

Oh, one more thing. [ Eddie strides back over to his closet, fishing out a comfortable hooded sweatshirt in a deep maroon, a Black Sabbath design splayed across the front. He's smiling as he returns to her, helps her into it, pulling the soft fabric over her head. ] It's cold out there.

[ And that's it, really. His life is backed up into one small duffel bag, and he's ready to run away with the previously dead girl of his dreams. He wishes things could be different, but she's here with him now, and that counts for a lot. ]

You ready?

[The sound she makes is more akin to a hum than an actual answer. Humaning is hard, and her ability to be one comes and goes. But she sounds positive and like she's ready, so she reaches over to grab his hand as she nods.]

Ready.

[Neither of them even look back as they leave. There's nothing else for them here. All they have to do is look forward to what's waiting ahead. Which, as it turns out, is a lot of open road. Eddie stops at a gas station about an hour in so they can grab a snack and she can use the bathroom. She doesn't lock the door and he winds up having to come in when she takes too long without answering him.

He finds her staring at herself in the mirror at the sink, almost puzzled by her appearance. She lost track of herself and time itself staring at her own reflection, trying to make sure that the eyes looking back at her are her own. There's a fear she came back wrong, or this isn't her body. But everything feels like hers, and she's pretty sure Eddie is now concerned she's defective.

So she apologizes repeatedly on their way back out to the car, and winds up eating half a bag of chips because she doesn't want to ever make Eddie worry more about her than he already does. If she has it her way, he'll never be sad again.]

How many days do you think it will take us to get to the beach?

[She pipes up over the tape he has quietly playing, once again sounding like her old self. It seems to be coming and going tonight, but she keeps telling herself that's normal.]

[ Honestly, Eddie wishes she didn't feel the need to apologize. He knows he could ask her, tell her to stop, and she might oblige but-- well, there's a lot the both of them, but especially her, need to work through. He can't even begin to wrap his head around how it must feel to be dead and then suddenly not, to have to watch someone else bleed out and then help stitch them back togheter. So eddie lets her apologize, say whatever she needs to, answering with a few soft "it's alright"s when he can.

Primarily, he's just focused on driving, and with every mile they put behind them he feels a little more relaxed, a little more free. They can leave everything dark and terrible back in Hawkins, and let the rest of the world be bright. It's getting into the late hours of the morning when he finally pulls off the road, feeling the heat of exhaustion creeping in behind his eyeballs.

The hotel he chooses is nice, not over the top extravagant but certainly better than some shabby roadside motel. Eddie lets her wait in the car while he goes inside to book them a room. He returns twenty or so minutes later, ushers her quickly inside through the lobby and into the elevator. They take the quiet ride upwards, and after a short trip down a carpeted hallway he gets them into their room. It's clean, comfortable, with a large bed and the biggest tv he's seen set up across from it. ]

Bet you're tired. [ He says with a small smile as he nudged her towards the bed. ] You mind if we share?

[She laughs as she shakes her head, reaching up to grab hold of his shoulders so she can pull him back toward the bed with her. His arms wrap around her and they wind up stumbling their way to fall into bed together. It's so soft that it takes her by surprise, and she gasps as she clings hold of him a little tighter than necessary.

When they don't sink into the blankets, she relents her grip, instead choosing to steal a kiss or two. He thinks that she must be tired, and even though she's feeling out of sorts, the last thing she wants to do is sleep. She's terrified that if she closes her eyes, she'll never open them again. The thought of going back to restless darkness is enough to make her never want to sleep again. But if he's brought her back and she's human now, it means she'll have to eventually. ]

You should try sleeping. I'll be right here.

[ After the night they've had, Eddie is more than ready to kick off his shoes and curl up beneath the blankets. In the morning they can order room service, then hit the road and keep making their way across the country. But even as Chrissy leans in for a kiss, he can sense something is off. The whole thing is off, obviously, but she certainly doesn't seem in the mood to relax. Eddie reaches to wrap his arms around her, presses the palm of his hand against her back and lets it move in slow circles. ]

I can stay up with you.

[ For as long as he can keep his eyes open, at least. But he hates the idea of her sitting alone in the dark, anxious and unable to sleep. It's his fault she feels this way, if he had just let her rest then-- he has to force that train of thought to stop. He'll drive himself crazy this way, and he wants them to be able to figure out the way forward. ]

We could watch a movie or something. Are you hungry?

[Is she hungry? Chrissy blinks as she presses a hand against her stomach. It's the first time she's stopped to think about bodily functions, and she realizes that she actually feels...incredibly full. So she frowns and shakes her head, as memories of being alive and having a complicated relationship with food fill her mind. This isn't how it was back then though. This is a different kind of fullness, one that almost borders on discomfort.]

Not really, but —

[Pausing, her hands press harder against her stomach. Which turns out to be the wrong move, because pain instantly sets in and she grimaces. A kiss is pressed to his nose to try and distract him, as she squirms her way out from his hold to crawl off of the bed. She hurries to the bathroom, lifting up the shirt and hoodie he's put her into. And she turns, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her stomach...definitely looks a little full and rounded.

Chrissy frowns at the sight and presses her palm as hard as she can against the area. Nausea bubbles up, and she doubles over to lean above the sink as she feels the familiar sensation of vomiting settle in. Only instead of food, what comes up is rough and gritty and suffocating. She nearly chokes on the taste of soil as it forcibly is ejected from her body, spilling up from her stomach and out her mouth. It lands in the sink in muddy clumps that look like bloody coffee grounds. But with the smell of it, there's no mistaking that it's soil.

She tries crying out for Eddie in a panic, but her mouth and throat are too full to make anything but muffled noise. It just keeps coming and coming, and her hands grip hold of the edge of the counter as she tries to just get through it.]

Chrissy?

[ Eddie sits stunned for a moment, blinks stupidly as he watches her rush towards the bathroom. It's the sound of vomiting that gets him up and off his feet, rushing after her into the bathroom. He thinks he's ready for what he's going to see when he flings open the door, but there's nothing that could have prepared him for this. His eyes go wide, flicking between the dirt in the sink and Chrissy, hunched over and vomiting. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

He says nothing as he grabs the small trashcan in the bathroom, holding it beneath Chrissy as she continues to vomit up dirt. Eddie helps ease her to the floor, keeps one arm wrapped around her shoulders. The sight is enough to make his own stomach turn, the gas station snacks threatening to make their own reappearance. But he swallows hard, fights to keep his composure. ]

You're okay, I've got you. [ He says softly. She might not even hear him over her own retching. It seems like an eternity has passed when she finally goes still, when the dry heaving turns into a hoarse coughing. Eddie doesn't even know what to say, his face gone pale. ] I'm so sorry. This is all my fault.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject