(vecna's curse)

MARCH, 1986

｡･:*˚:✧｡ SATURDAY STARTS OUT almost peacefully. It takes Raymond a few minutes to realise he's not alone when he wakes up to a strange rumbling he soon recognises as snoring. Munson's loud even in his fucking sleep.

Having taken a quick shower, then slipped on a random black t-shirt and a pair of straight jeans, he settles in the kitchen, fighting through falling asleep all over again. Sleep is contagious and, with Munson sleeping a few metres away, it's truly unfair. You sacrifice one cheerleader to your cult and suddenly you don't have to make yourself breakfast.

He sets the table, two plates, two forks, two knifes, prepares a decent meal for two. It feels strange. Not grabbing a piece of toast and chewing it through the house as he cleans up or drinking orange juice straight out of the bottle. Instead, making an omelette, cutting vegetables for an actual salad. He's not all alone today, and the change is pleasant.

Until it isn't.

Raymond grabs that one t-shirt he's only worn a few times because it's just too big. He walks into the living room area. The armchairs have separated during the night, so Eddie is barely on them. His one foot is hanging over the armrest while his ass is hovering in between two seats. His neck is craned at a weird angle and it's painful to look at. Raymond should put him out of his misery.

"Rise and shine, Ted Bundy!" he yells and throws the piece of clothing onto Munson's face. "We've got a murder to cover up."

Eddie stirs slightly. "Five more minutes, please."

"Your breakfast is getting cold." Bingo.

At that, the man jumps up, nearly falling from his excuse of a bed. He does, however, end up knocking his forehead against the armrest and groaning in pain, covering his face with his palm. "You made breakfast?"

"You're that surprised?" Raymond sighs. "I can give it to Ava if you don't want it."

"No, no, no, no, I want it," he mumbles, yawns interrupting him. "Thanks, man. I always wanted to try some 'shrimp on a barbie'."

"Yeah, whatever."

Turns out, Munson isn't only bad at doing the Australian accent. He also doesn't like plain white t-shirts. He struts into the kitchen half an hour later, smelling of Raymond's shampoo, wet hair dripping all over the house, grumbling constantly until Raymond finally gives him attention and raises his eyebrows in question.

"It's not my style."

Raymond glares at him. "What?"

"It's just- it's not my style, man. You've seen how I dress. You can't expect me to, like, walk around in plain white."

Raymond fakes a gasp. "Shit, I'm so sorry, mate. Straight jackets are on the other rack. They might have your size. Want a prison cell while we're at it? Handcuffs go with it for free. They're pretty trendy right now. You look like the kind of guy who's into those."

"It's not funny." It kinda is. "You making fun of my situation. Not cool."

"Of you being into handcuffs or you being a murderer?"

He can't help but burst into laughter as he watches him. With his hair like that and his expression flat and unimpressed, Munson looks like a wet dog completely done with his life. He lifts a finger, trying to prove a point, but Raymond only laughs harder. It's not even that funny. Maybe it's just the fear of getting caught by the police, finally catching up to him. It's probably that.

"First of all--- first of all! Both of those statements are false---"

"So you're not into handcuffs? Damn."

"I am not. Second of all, maybe you have something... that fits me better." He sighs. "Like something colourful. Or black."

"Colourful or black, Munson?"

"Either one of those. Just not plain white."

Soon enough, he's in a different shirt. Screaming.

"Holy fucking shit, Park! Metallica of all things?" He grins, dimples showing. His eyes are glowing. The power of a fukcing band tee.

"It's a gift from my dad," Raymond mutters, trying to hide his own smile. He frowns at the way the shirt is a little tight for Eddie, the poor fabric stretching over his shoulders. "I figure he wanted me to be more... masculine or whatever. And apparently, nothing screams 'masculine' more than my favourite band's merchandise."

"Your favourite band?" Eddie's eyes grow wider. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, still in shock, with breakfast long forgotten on the table. "I'm starting to actually like you."

"Hooray," Raymond says flatly. "If you learn how to play their songs, you can like me all you want."

Scoffing, Eddie sits down and finally digs into his breakfast. "Well, for your information, I already know how to play a couple. So I guess you're lucky."

Raymond glares at the fugitive inhaling breakfast and choking on his orange juice in the middle of his kitchen. "I guess I am."

"I'm keeping this shirt, by the way."

🖇️ 🎬 🕷️ 🕸️ 🎸

｡･:*˚:✧｡"JESUS CHRIST, YOU gotta be kidding me, man. I'm starting to think you're actually insane."

"I am definitely not," Raymond responds simply, placing one bag on the counter. The other is just about to slip out of his grasp when a pair of hands grab it and set it next to the first one. Eddie starts unpacking the groceries, still baffled by Raymond's previous confession. His eyebrows are drawn together, tongue sticking out in concentration. One would think he's solving the most difficult math problem in the world, not figuring out which shelf cheese goes on.

He grabs the infamous chocolate milk with a scoff. Ava eyes it curiously. "Why did you buy it if you don't like it?"

"Because you said it's your favourite." It's really that simple.

Apparently, Raymond disliking chocolate milk is baffling to some people. He likes chocolate, he likes milk, but he hates chocolate milk. He's allowed to dislike it, right? But obviously, Eddie thinks it's the end of the fucking world, since it's his favourite thing ever.

He doesn't mention how funny it is to think about, Eddie Munson carrying his lunchbox full of drugs, always making sure to leave some space for the chocolate milk next to the cocaine. One time, Raymond entered the boys' bathroom and caught him washing questionable white powder off his tomato slices. Raymond attempted to help, but they ended up barely succeeding and sharing the goddamn cocaine sandwich.

Raymond has just returned home. He'd been grocery shopping, stacking up on random supplies for a day or two. He doesn't like leaving Munson alone in the house. Someone might see him or call the cops and there could be a whole scene. He'd like to be there to witness it. They've seen the news on TV. It feels more real now. It's only a matter of time before Chrissy's name is released to the public, meaning Eddie's will be, too.

Speaking of...

"Are you okay with telling me about Cunningham?"

Eddie's hand freezes on the fridge door. He's silent for a few moments, eyes still on the food inside before he closes the door and stands up straight. "You'll make fun of me."

"I already do that, mate. Might as well give me a proper reason to."

Eddie doesn't seem amused. Raymond takes it as his sign to stop joking for once. He motions towards the living room area and Eddie obeys hesitantly, shuffling towards one of the armchairs. Raymond takes up the other one in silence.

He watches him. Eddie places the chocolate milk on the coffee table and stares out the window, into the lake. They've opened the curtains to let in some light, since at night, they'll have to close them again to prevent intrusive eyes from seeing them together. It seems to help Munson stay calm. If this can be called calm. His hands are shaking again. Raymond wants to tell him something soothing, to try and ease his nerves, but he isn't entirely sure how.

"Ray, you have to promise me."

Raymond frowns. "Promise you what?"

Eddie sighs shakily. "That you won't laugh. That you won't interrupt. That you'll try and believe what I'm about to say."

He can do that. He can totally do that.

"I promise."

"Okay, okay, okay..." Eddie keeps repeating, more to himself than to Raymond, it seems. "Basically, she just... wanted to buy drugs from me. I know, before you interrupt me, yes, Chrissy Cunningham of all people! She wanted drugs. We met up in the forest where I usually... exchange goods and she already didn't seem okay. She was flustered and, like, really restless and all over the place. I've never seen her like that."

So Raymond wasn't the only one who noticed. She was weird the whole day yesterday, and she had been like that for a week, maybe. Just fidgety, distant, overall, out of it.

"And she kind of confessed she wasn't feeling well," Eddie continues. "Talked about... going crazy and shit, so I tried my best to comfort her by making a fool of myself. It seemed to work until she got fucking possessed."

"Right."

"Park."

"Sorry, sorry."

Eddie glares at him. "I even gave her a discount, but she asked for something stronger. I didn't have anything with me at the moment, so I offered to take her to my place so we could find her something that could work, but... It happened."

Raymond waits for him to continue. He doesn't. He stares out into the forest, the setting sun, eyes lost and unfocused, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Eddie, what happened?"

He doesn't get the chance to find out. There's a fucking car pulling up.

Eddie jumps up, face suddenly chalk white. Raymond is sure he doesn't look much better himself when Eddie grabs his sweaty palm and pulls him.

"What are you-"

"Shut up. We have to get out of here."

Raymond snatches his hand away when they're at the front door, yet a shadow beneath it shows whoever drives that car is right in front of them.

"Shit, shit, shit," Eddie curses and stumbles back. "Come on."

The curtain. Munson's solution is hiding behind the fucking curtain. They stand there, side by side, chests rising and falling in terrible sync as Ava keeps making confused little noises. Raymond prays their feet can't be seen when the voices at the door fall silent and the door creaks open.

He can hear footsteps. So many of them. Whoever it is that walked into Raymond's house as though it were their own, they're not alone. He feels his heart in his fucking throat.

"Someone was just here." The voice is foreign. Raymond frowns.

"Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran."

Raymond's eyes widen. That one voice he can recognise. It's soft, but has that rasp to it that provides him with warmth whenever he feels a little too alone. When it starts whispering to Ava, he is sure.

"Robin," he whispers. Eddie's eyes widen and he clamps a hand over Raymond's mouth. Raymond glares at him. Bites.

"Are we sure he's here?" The first voice echoes again. "I mean, it could have just been Park, it's his house."

"It's not him." Robin mutters again. "He hates chocolate milk, it's not his. It's gotta be someone else."

"Maybe he had a change of heart? Realised it's actually good and he's been lying to himself his entire life?"

"No way."

Eddie's reaction matches his, the two exchanging confused looks at the voices. A reflection of light catches Raymond's eye. He glances down at Eddie's hand, noticing what he's been holding onto all along. Fuck.

"Don't worry. If it's someone dangerous, Steve will get him with his umbrella."

No fucking way. Steve Harrington.

As if on cue, the owner of the voice closest to them speaks up. It's him. And Eddie doesn't seem happy about it.

"I know you think you're being funny, Henderson, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don't find it funny in the slight- Whoa! Wait! Wait! Wait!"

Raymond barley gets time to react because curtains are spread apart and everyone screams and Eddie has Steve pressed up against the wall with a butter knife to his throat.

"Fucking hell, Munson!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eddie!" A familiar kid shouts. Curly hair, blue eyes, lisp, knows Eddie. Sinclair's nerdy little friend. "Eddie, stop! Eddie, it's me. It's Dustin! This is Steve. He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?"

Steve Harrington stands there, eyes wide and hands in the air, holding onto Raymond's umbrella which he had probably grabbed when he entered.

Right," he squeals. His pleading eyes flicker to Ray. "Yeah, yeah."

If someone told Raymond he would have Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington at each other's throats in his living room, with Robin Buckley and two random kids trying to calm them down, he would call them crazy. Now, as Eddie presses the knife tighter against the skin of Steve's neck, he can totally believe it.

"Hey, hey, Munson, trust me, I wanna stab Harrington in the throat just as much as you do," Raymond says slowly, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, "hell, maybe even more than you do, but uh... how about you lay off of killing under my roof, huh?"

Steve doesn't sound too pleased. "Hey, now-"

Eddie doesn't let him speak any longer, his weapon of choice now dangerously close to actually cutting his throat open.

"No, no! Steve, why don't you drop the umbrella?" the kid with the lisp starts again. He's got too much patience. Like a fucking kindergarten teacher. Dustin, was it? "Steve's cool. He's cool."

"I'm cool, man," Steve assures, letting the umbrella fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. "I'm cool."

"Of course he is."

Eddie shoots Raymond a glare before examining everyone in the room. A startled Robin, Steve still begging for dear life, the Dustin kid nodding in encouragement and this random ginger girl just watching it all unfold. "What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for you," Dustin replies matter-of-factly.

Robin is the next to speak up, a sheepish grin on her freckled face. "We're here to help."

Frowning at her, Raymond steps away from Munson. "How did you know he'd be here?"

The girl blinks in confusion. Her hands are in front of her, flapping aimlessly because it helps her concentrate or whatever. "We came to check on Rick, we thought Eddie would be there. I... thought we could visit you as well, see if you're doing well."

Right.

"I'm doing very well with my little fugitive friend, as you see." He grins. "You didn't have to bring the whole zoo in here. I don't have that many beds."

Dustin stands in front of Robin somewhat protectively, shaking his head. He is wearing a smile that Raymond doesn't see the reason for.

"Raymond, hi, um..." He hesitates. "I'm Dustin. You remember me, right?"

"Not really, no."

"Last year, the whole Russian code situation-"

"Doesn't ring a bell, sorry," Raymond lies. Why would he give this child the satisfaction? He's got no reason to, even though yes, he does remember last summer and how those three lost causes begged him to help them translate some secret spy code because of his language skills, how he only accepted because Robin asked him to do it and how, if it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have helped Harrington even if he begged on his knees.

"Doesn't matter," Dustin concludes, voice softening. "Listen, Raymond, Eddie, we're here to talk. These are my friends. You guys know Robin, she's from band." Robin makes a ridiculous scene of playing an invisible trumpet. Dustin gestures towards the ginger girl. "This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D. Eddie. We're on your side. I swear on my mother. Right, guys?"

Max finally speaks up. "Yes. Yes. We swear."

"On Dustin's mother," Robin joins in.

"Yeah, Dustin's... Dustin's mother."

Eddie just stands there, utterly confused. He seems out of it, if Raymond's being honest, but Munson is always like that. It's nothing new. Though he is relieved when Steve is finally pushed out of harm's way because he really doesn't feel like cleaning up the crime scene.

Eddie curses loudly and drops the butter knife. He slumps down into one of the armchairs and the kids just sit cross-legged on the floor around him, eyes big and curious. Fucking hell, it is a kindergarten.

These people seem to have an already established dynamic. Raymond's not sure whether Eddie is a part of it or not, but Dustin knows him, and that says a lot.

The blue eyed boy kneels down in front of Eddie and Raymond gets an opportunity to fully see him. Munson has never looked this fucking terrified.

He has been close to telling Raymond everything, twice. Still, both times, there has been an obstacle, something to prevent him from having to go through this. Now, there are no obstacles in sight, only multiple pairs of eyes fixated on him, waiting for him to explain how Chrissy Cunningham died last night, and he seems frozen.

Dustin starts out softly, "Eddie, we just want to talk, okay? We want to know what happened."

Eddie doesn't dare look up to meet his gaze. Raymond can see his eyes turn glossy. Shaky hands come up to wipe the skin of his cheeks. "You won't believe me."

"Try us." Raymond turns to look at Max, the girl's grounding appearance awfully familiar somehow. It reminds him of someone else, the look in her eyes, the fear hidden inside, but he doesn't speak up.

Eddie explains everything he had already told Raymond before they were interrupted. How they'd met up and why, how she'd been distant and weird.

"She was like that when I saw her," Max conforms. "He's not lying."

Dustin's glare is hard. "Of course he isn't. Eddie, what happened next?"

Eddie stares down at his hands again. When he lifts his head, it's to look at Raymond. He isn't entirely sure why, but Munson collects himself after that, sitting up straight.

"I went to my room to get the goods and when I returned, she was just... standing there. Frozen." He shakes his head. "It was like her eyes, uh... Her eyes rolled into her skull, they were just white. And she couldn't see me or hear me."

Max and Dustin exchange a look that Raymond doesn't miss. They seem to know something more.

"Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh... And she just, like, hung there. In the air. And her bones..." Eddie whimpers, eyes shut tightly. Raymond can't look away from him, from his clenched jaw and tears rolling down his face. He is being genuine. "Her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man. It... It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling." He makes a rather disgusting gesture, demonstrating what he's just described. "I... I didn't know what to do, so I... I ran away. I left her there."

No one speaks. Raymond watches Max as she sits there with furrowed eyebrows. Dustin and Robin are still focused on Eddie, while Steve stands against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, worried gaze flickering from Eddie to Raymond.

Eddie laughs. "You all think I'm crazy, right?"

"Kinda," Ray has to mutter, earning himself a glare from Max.

Dustin ignores him. "No, we don't think you're crazy."

"Don't bullshit me, man!" Eddie shouts and Dustin flinches away at the sudden sound. "I know how this sounds."

"We're not bullshitting you," Max interjects and Robin nods from her spot beside her.

"We believe you."

They all exchange worried glances before nodding to each other silently. Dustin clears his throat.

"Look, what I'm about to tell you might be a little... difficult to take. You know how people say Hawkins is... cursed? They're not way off." Raymond can't help his confusion. It's probably written all over his face as he leans forward to hear the boy better. "There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours."

Eddie is quick to ask, "Like ghosts and shit?"

"There are some things worse than ghosts."

The reply comes from Max. The way she says it, like she knows those things like the back of her hand, like she falls asleep with them under her bed and wakes up to them staring into her eyes, it sends a chill down Raymond's spine.

"These monsters from this other world... we thought they were gone," Dustin says. His voice is surprisingly gentle. He seems to be aware of the situation, of the fear that consumes Eddie. "But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you."

"If they're back again," Max mumbles, "we need to know."

Raymond can't keep his mouth shut. "Monsters? You expect us to just... believe that?"

None other than Steve Harrington presses himself off the wall and stands in front of Raymond, intimidatingly tall. "Ray, we're not kidding. It's happened before. And after what happened to Chrissy, you better believe it and stop joking about it so easily."

"Why?" Raymond cocks his head to the side for the hell of it. Were it anyone else, he'd let them off the hook. Still, it's Steve. "Am I next, Harrington?"

Steve doesn't seem to find it funny. "You remember that night, at my place, when you got so high you stayed on the roof all night?" Raymond feels his blood freeze in his veins. "The next morning you told me about those weird noises and said how Barbara Holland just... disappeared. You mentioned a strange animal and I didn't take you seriously. It actually happened. Only that animal wasn't an animal. It was one of them and it took her. Nancy tried to reveal the truth to the public, but that shitty cover-up was the furthest she could go."

Raymond shakes his head. He takes a step back from Steve, feeling the backs of his knees knock against an armchair seat. He can feel Eddie's confused eyes on him and he's not ready to hear it.

The one to call out for him next is Max. "Also the mall fire last year, it wasn't a fire. My big brother Billy..." Fuck. "That thing, it came back, it got him. He-"

"He saved our asses," Robin interrupts her and Max seems grateful. "He didn't make it. The thing that happened to Chrissy, it's not our first time facing it. So please, just let us make sure. Okay?"

The numb sound of his heart racing in his chest is too loud. Robin's voice is muffled and all he can hear are the sirens. He can smell the smoke. He can see the tears in those blue eyes and the final goodbye.

For the first time today, he has nothing to say. He nods. Robin watches him, gaze soft, before she nods back and turns to Eddie slowly.

"Eddie, that night, did you see anything?"

"Dark particles, maybe?" Max is back in interrogation mode. Dustin nods encouragingly.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust."

"No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh... or touch." Eddie closes his eyes, rubs them roughly. He remains in that position, hands over his face, nails digging into the skin above his eyebrows, as though the action would be able to remove the memory out of his brain. Raymond wishes it were that simple. "You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she... she was in a trance or something."

"Or under a spell."

Dustin's comment seems to wake Eddie up. He blinks down at the boy before his eyes grow wide. "A curse."

"Vecna's curse."

Steve snorts next to Raymond. "Who's Vecna?"

"One of their game characters," Raymond replies quietly and Dustin nods.

"It's an undead creature of great power," he answers, eyes still on Eddie. The silent exchange these two have goes beyond the few words they actually say out loud and Raymond is grateful. He can't stand a tutorial on the world of D&D right now.

"A spell caster," Eddie whispers.

"A dark wizard."

"Wait, wait, wait, guys," Robin interrupts their little exchange. "How do we know this is a game character?"

"Because it's happened before," Max mutters. "These things, they actually exist, right? The game just... gave them a name and made the rules."

Raymond sits down onto the armchair and looks around. His eyes remain on Eddie. "And do those rules apply on the real life situation as well?"

Eddie turns to him. Right hand fumbling with the rings on the left, one knee constantly bouncing, eyes focused on something he'll have to let them in on later, he replies, "I sure hope they do, Park."

-AUTHOR'S NOTE !
•here's chapter 2 guys! we're meeting more characters, diving deeper into the actual plot of the season, which is as tricky as it is fun. it's tough to adapt your original character to an already existing dynamic without them feeling out of place yk. hopefully i managed to do it properly.

•yup, ray's a little bitch lol. he's got a loongg way to go! any ideas about his past? more specifically, the person he keeps associating with smoke? i thought you guys would bring it up in chapter 1 right away, but it might require more information for you to see the idea :D

•if there are any mistakes, any confusion or just anything that can be explained without spoilers in order to clear things up and help you guys enjoy this better, let me know! i am so grateful for all the support i've received so far and i hope you guys continue to like this <3