(the nina project pt. ii)

｡･:*˚:✧｡ROWS AND ROWS of silent, terrified people.

A little girl hides in the ruffles of her mother's black dress. An old man, broken by time, sits in silence, tears falling down his face as he stares ahead. A group of teenage boys, high schoolers, listen to the woman speaking, trembling hands and trembling lips and glossy eyes.

Her gaze wavers, flickering from her husband, standing silently beside her, to the photograph of her dead daughter on the stand, there for everyone to see the angel they've lost because of a madness of one man.

"The devil is here," she says. "I can feel his presence growing stronger each day. But I know Chrissy's in heaven now, looking down at us, smiling, happy to see all the lives she touched and brightened." The smile that's showed up on her face at some point falls. "But I also know she's frustrated. Angry. That the monster that did this to her is still out there. Still. Hurting others." She crumbles. Her hands come to hold her up, knuckles white and teeth gritted. The defeat crushes her and she poses the question, "How can he live, while my angel is gone? I know God has a plan. I know He has a reason, but our beautiful Chrissy didn't deserve to be taken so cruelly! And I just do not understand it. I see no reason. I see no reason!"

Jason Carver misses Chrissy Cunningham.

Her photograph stares at him from the stand, that same smile she always wore, that same glint in her eyes that's now gone forever.

She was such a happy person. She spread that happiness wherever she went. And now he'll never see her smile again because of that freak, Munson.

The moment police knocked on his door the other day, he knew. That feeling in his gut never lies. It didn't lie then and it's definitely not lying now.

He knows what he has to do. He's been careful, thorough. He's found connections, witnesses, checked rumours. All that's left is to find the freak.

"So I finally got a hold of Cappelletti," he says to his friends once they've gathered around the table. "Photos for the '86 yearbook."

Andy leans over the photographs, grabbing one of them with an impressed grin. "Hot damn." His expression falters. "Sinclair? Goddamn traitor."

On the photo, Lucas Sinclair is smiling with his friends. Everyone from the Hellfire Club, that cult that has them all messed up.

Jason nods. "Only reason he'd lead us to a dead end. The Hellfire Club. They're hiding Eddie."

Patrick is the first one to object, quiet as always. This past week, he's been strange. Everyone has. "Maybe we should bring this to the cops."

"The cops who think Chrissy's a drug dealer?" Jason shoots him a glare. "Who are letting this... this psycho go around killing people?"

"I'm just saying, what if this cult is doing shit to us?"

"Doing what?"

Shrugging awkwardly, Patrick avoids looking Jason directly. "They already know we're after them," he mumbles. "What if they cursed us or some shit?"

All Jason can do is blink. The group breaks into mocking laughter and Chance nudges the guys closest to him. "Patrick thinks he's cursed."

"Hey!" The sound of Jason's voice forces them into silence. "None of this is funny." He looks back at Patrick. "Look, I don't believe in that supernatural crap, all right? But this cult is dangerous. We have to be smart about this." He pulls a piece of paper out of the pocket of his suit. Words are scribbled on it, rows crooked, rising and falling without lines to guide them. "I made a list. Everywhere these freaks have been seen. We divide and conquer. Check 'em out one by one. Smoke 'em out."

"We should add Reefer Rick's house to this."

Jason's hand stills on the paper. He glances up at Derek, to see him shrug defensively. He's prepared to defend himself in case the guys start asking questions.

The only one comes from Jason himself. "What?"

"Reefer Rick. He's Eddie's supplier. He's supposed to be in prison, but someone spotted him back in his house a few days ago," Derek explains. When Chance moves over to the others, whispers something with a judging grin, Derek shakes his head. "Now my parents are freaking out and shit. It's probably nothing. I don't know. There was nothing weird yesterday or today."

If they're going to do this, they have to be smart about it. Sometimes the things they neglect because they're not likely turn out to be the answer and Jason's not letting this plan fail just because of that.

"No, that's good. That's good," he assures. "No stones unturned."

Andy turns to him, a frown on his face. "Also you know Park? Raymond Park, that... Chinese or whatever---"

Jason's jaw twitches. "He's Korean."

"Right, right," Andy dismisses. "Well, apparently his house is right next to Rick's. Mrs Quinn lives nearby, too. You know, the lady who owns that little café, gives us free dessert." A few of the guys nod and he continues. "She says Raymond's had some strange visitors."

Slowly, Andy takes the photo again, points vaguely at the kids smiling, arms around Eddie Munson. They're unaware of the danger that follows them with him around. Poor, young people, all completely charmed by this weird game, by Munson as their leader. He's getting them in trouble without them knowing.

And now Raymond is one of them and Jason isn't sure what to do about it.

Raymond's always been influenced by Munson. Jason has seen it, he's seen how it changed Raymond from a kind, nice boy, into a rude, cold, cruel person Jason can't recognise. He's been listening to him, admiring him and Jason should have known he'd be the first one Munson would run to after doing something so terrible. Raymond would support him, help him because Munson's created him.

"So maybe it's all connected," Chance concludes quietly.

Jason lets out a heavy sigh, already knowing what he has to do. "It could be."

🖇️ 🎬 🕷️ 🕸️ 🎸

｡･:*˚:✧｡IT WEARS OFF pretty quickly. Too quickly, in Raymond's opinion.

Way too soon, the sun is down and he's awake on the floor, messy head of hair on his chest, arms around his waist, a warm, heavy hand on his hip and a splitting headache to accompany it all.

He is fully sober. Whether it is from the rasp in Eddie's voice when he opens his eyes and catches Raymond counting his eyelashes or the ice cold shower he takes afterwards, he still isn't completely sure. He doesn't need to know. No one does.

Just like any other person going through a breakdown, Raymond relies on hair dye and a cute outfit.

He expects things to be awkward. He expects Eddie to be all strange and embarrassed, unable to look at him fully until Raymond assures him that it's completely alright they've fallen asleep together again. That it means nothing and they're cool.

Yet, when Raymond walks out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, Eddie shamelessly drinks up the sight of his bare torso and dripping, freshly dyed black hair, eyes innocently drifting up to meet Raymond's as he asks him if he wants to play with him, slurps on his last remaining chocolate milk as Raymond picks out a soft beige sweater and his favourite jeans.

(Raymond will never admit it, but he makes sure to choose that one sweater that's a little short, that has his skin showing if he raises his arms even a little bit.)

Everything feels normal, if one leaves out the drumming of Raymond's heart against his ribs.

That brings them to the floor, Raymond with his teeth grinding against his nail polish and eyebrows furrowed, Eddie with his tongue out in concentration, humming an unknown tune as they stare helplessly at the puzzle pieces scattered all over the wooden surface. There's music playing, it's Billy's mixtape.

"This is the dumbest thing ever," Raymond comments. "She literally ruined it."

"Come on." Eddie doesn't bother looking up at him. He simply rubs his thigh, not too high up for Raymond to want to dig up a hole for himself and jump right in, but not close enough to his knee to be considered friendly. "She thought it would be fun."

"It's not," he squeaks out.

He is referring, of course, to how Robin left a puzzle for them to solve the other day, but she'd taken it out of the box in order to hide the original picture. "This way you just gotta put the pieces together without orientation or any idea how it's supposed to look like. Isn't it fun?!" she exclaimed and Raymond said the same he says now. That it really wasn't.

He sees there's a lot of greens and purples. A lot of blurry splotches of colour. So far, they have the top part. Or is it the bottom? It could be turned upside down, depending on what the original is. It looks like the sky, with treetops framing it (or some kind of lake, with grass around it).

Completely lost, he looks up at Eddie, hoping he'd have a suggestion on how to approach this. Yet, Eddie is already looking back at him. He's smiling wide, the dimple on one of his cheeks deeper than the other, fingers rubbing the line of his sharp jaw.

"What is it?"

He doesn't waste a fucking second knocking the air out of Raymond's chest. "You're cute when you pretend to be angry."

"And you, you're making me actually angry."

He is basically seconds away from screaming. They're trapped inside, hiding from the police with a murderous supernatural creature on the loose and all Raymond can think about is Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Eddie's lips as he smirks and brushes the comment off, Eddie's eyes as they return to the puzzle, Eddie's gasp of surprise when he snaps his fingers and seems to finally realise what this is all about.

"Monet!" he shouts and sets his chocolate milk down on the floor. "It's Claude fucking Monet."

All Raymond can do is laugh, having forgotten that beneath the tattoos, the cigarettes and the leather, this man is a nerd at heart.

He allows himself to be bold. Hell, they'll probably die anyway, why should he hold back on something that Eddie might not even read enough into!

Yet, when he shuffles over, seemingly casual as ever, and rests his head in Eddie's lap, there is one hell of a reaction.

First, Eddie freezes. A puzzle piece that he was about to find a place for drops from in between his fingers and Raymond hears the hitch in his breath

Bad fucking idea, Park. He can hear it, muttered in Eddie's voice, even if he does not say it. His heart sinks as he feels the burn creep up his neck in pure shame. He lifts his head, ready to stand up and walk away --- now's a great time to dig that hole, Raymond! --- but something prevents him from doing so.

There's a hand on his head, gentle as ever, rings cold against his scalp. "Don't." The voice is barely there as Eddie lowers his head back onto his lap hesitantly. "It's nice."

Bad fucking idea. Abort. Abort. Abort.

In an attempt to get closer, to make sure, he's gotten himself in trouble. In so much trouble. How is he supposed to breathe with how gentle Eddie's being right now? He's running his fingers through the dark locks of hair, slowly and delicately, tracing the piercings on Raymond's ear, the freckles dusting over his cheeks. The puzzle lies on the floor, forgotten. A Fleetwood Mac song is playing.

He stares up at Eddie. There's a crease between Eddie's eyebrows, barely present, but here to remind them they're here on borrowed time, together, alone, waiting for something to happen. For the world to end or to be saved.

"Are you ever afraid?" he whispers, feeling his voice break.

Eddie stays silent for a few long seconds. His eyes fall shut, lashes wet. When they open again it's to look at Raymond. There's a rawness to his gaze that wasn't there before.

"All the time," Eddie confesses.

"What do you fear?"

The sun is setting slowly. Eddie's face is painted pink and orange, warm with something more than just the sun. He's beautiful.

"Nothing and everything," he says, chuckling. "Losing people. Losing myself in the chaos. Dying." A pause. "Staying alone in this."

Despite the lump in his throat, Raymond manages to grin. "Oh, look at you! You don't wanna lose me, Munson, do you?"

Eddie doesn't smile. "I don't."

The lump grows. It festers, sour and poisonous and Raymond fears he might choke. "Shit." His expression falls. "It's okay, not wanting to be alone. I don't mind it. I like having you around, too."

That's all this is. Two boys --- men --- so terrified of death and insanity that they grow closer in ways they aren't supposed to. Eddie's just looking for someone to hold. Someone to go with him through this. But Raymond is falling. Too quickly and too far.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself. Whatever Eddie needs, he can be just that. He can use the situation, take the opportunity, like he always does when it comes to love, all just to feel something real. Anything real.

He should have learned his fucking lesson already.

"Goddamn it, Park," Eddie whispers. A hand comes down to cradle Raymond's jaw like it did hours ago when they were drunk, barely conscious, when everything was allowed and everything made sense. Now, everything has a meaning to it. A price.

"What is it?" He forces his gaze up, away from Eddie's lips and to meet his eyes, but it doesn't last.

"I think I'm about to do something really stupid."

Raymond's headache is numbing. It's a thumping in the back of his skull that could be his heartbeat spreading through him, his heart attempting to flee before it gets shattered.

The space between them grows smaller and Raymond isn't sure if it's just Eddie leaning down or him lifting himself up. Maybe it's Eddie's fingers in his hair bringing him closer. Eddie's breath stirs against Raymond's lips, nose brushes against his. Raymond can't breathe, every piece of him longing for a taste, to feel him close, to hold him until the sun falls and rises again, until the earth stops spinning.

The air they share is warm as Raymond whispers back, "Do it."

Eddie doesn't.

A knocking sound breaks through the house, reaching Raymond's ears and pulling him out of his daze. It comes from the door and he freezes, feels Eddie freeze, too. He doesn't back away yet.

"It's the kids," he mutters. "We should probably open."

"Do we have to?" Raymond finds himself saying before he can stop it. The knocking intensifies.

Eddie smiles, thumb brushing against Raymond's bottom lip. He looks apologetic, almost. "I'm afraid we do, doll. They brought us a six-pack."

Separating from Eddie almost physically hurts, but Raymond finds himself stumbling out of the bedroom with his heart racing and his hands clammy, yelling out an exasperated, "I'm coming!"

Raymond wishes he knew.

It will cost him, he realises later on. This rush, this loss of all senses except for those that could feel Eddie, strips him of his usual wariness and he fails to check the pockets of the leather jacket he puts on, fails to hear it, the exchange outside the door, the voices that are foreign, yet so, so familiar.

Jason Carver looks lost. Even his neat suit can't hide those bloodshot eyes, his broken smile. He's a bomb seconds away from exploding. Raymond falters, but can't let it show. Can't let Jason see how terrified he is.

"Hey, uh..." Jason trails off, eyes going right past Raymond to look into the house. "Raymond, how are you?"

"Jason!" he exclaims, voice rising. He can only pray Eddie is listening and he won't come out here to greet the kids and be faced with the guy whose girlfriend he's supposedly murdered. Right. He should play along. "I'm so sorry about your girl, mate. I was gonna go to the funeral, but I didn't wanna make it weird."

The hint at their strange history goes ignored and Raymond is glad.

"You should have been there. It would have meant a lot to my Chrissy." It's genuine. Raymond knows it is because despite everything about this man that's staged, honed to perfection, his desire to fit in, to be what's expected of him, his love for Chrissy has always been real. In his attempt to run away from Raymond, Jason found himself completely smitten by the beautiful cheerleader and everyone could see that. Raymond sees it, too. "But I understand. It's alright. You know what happened, right?"

"A serial killer on the loose," Raymond states, faking a concerned expression. It's not that difficult because Vecna is, in fact, very much free and able to kill more. "Let's just hope they catch him before he causes more pain."

"But you know who did it, don't you?"

It breaks his heart, only a little, when he has to shake his head in faux confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Bones snapped, eyes gauged out. She's not the only one." Jason winces at his own words. "Don't play pretend when you know what I'm talking about."

He forces out an empty laugh. Leans against the doorframe to hide the hand reaching into his pocket. Feels for the knife. Not there. "I really don't understand, what does this have to do with me?"

Two more boys show up behind Jason, in identical suits, with matching cold expressions. One of them has in his hands something that looks like a fucking pipe.

"In the past few days, people have seen some members of the Hellfire club gather here. We know you have him, Raymond."

"Have who?"

"The psychopath that did this," Jason spits, steps forward. "That freak! Munson is here, isn't he?"

"Jason, I seriously don't know what you're talking about or what Munson's got to do with this." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, I know you loved her a lot, but I'm afraid I can't help you. You should leave it to the police."

He begins closing the door, but of course, of fucking course, Jason's foot comes to block it and he and his guys push it open again.

"Then you won't mind us taking a look around?" Jason asks as he walks in. His guys follow. In all the chaos, Raymond realises, with something like relief, that Lucas Sinclair isn't among them.

"I'm afraid you're overstaying your welcome, guys," Raymond says firmly. "With all due respect, you should go now."

"He's here, Raymond. I know you have him," Jason insists, mutters something to his guys. "He might have told you a sob story, but you can't let him fool you. He's manipulated you with his lies." He shakes his head as he stops in the middle of the room. "You knew my Chrissy. Everything this freak did to her, he deserves to pay for his sins. I'll make sure of it."

He can't risk it. There's too many of them for him to just stand around and do nothing. They'll reach the bedroom, they'll reach Eddie, they'll hurt him and he can't have that.

The guy standing closest to him is short. Skinny. He has a screwdriver in his hand. Raymond wastes no more time. He lunges forward and kicks the back of the boy's leg and he drops to the ground on his knees.

The screwdriver clatters to the floor. Raymond takes it.

Already up on his feet, the boy jumps him, but Raymond is faster. He grabs him by the hair, pressing the tip of the screwdriver to his throat.

"You guys made a mistake," he grits out, looking at the guys in front of him. "One move and he's dead."

He knows he can't do it. One push and the screwdriver would pierce through the skin, the boy would be dead within a minute. Yet, he is aware he won't be able to go through with it, not completely.

His advantage doesn't last long. The boy steps on his foot and Raymond curses. He receives an elbow to his stomach. The hand holding the screwdriver weakens, but he manages to stab through the boy's thigh before he loses it.

Jason and the other boy advance towards him as he subtly moves closer to the bedroom door. He's never felt this outnumbered in his life.

"You've got nowhere to go, Ray!" Jason shouts as the other boy helps his injured friend. "Should have given him up sooner."

He finds it in himself to laugh. "You're being ridiculous."

That seems to push Jason too far. Mockery, disbelief, dismissal. Raymond hears the punch before he feels it. The thud of Jason's fist against his nose. The sound he lets out. The buzzing in his head, like static as his eyes begin to water. The pain comes later, accompanied by the feeling of losing all air when he's punched in the stomach. He drops to the ground.

A kick to his gut. One to his shoulder. He cries out, trying to cover himself, in vain. Someone screams at Jason to stop. It could be one of the guys. It could be Raymond.

Fists grab the collar of his shirt and pull him up and suddenly he's face to face with Jason.

"You helped him!" he screams in Raymond's face, eyes wide. "You killed her, you helped that freak---"

His knuckles collide with Jason's jaw, not hard, but hard enough for Jason to drop him. His head hits the floor and fuck, his skull might as well be splitting open.

"Watch your fucking mouth," He grits out. Where is his fucking knife?

Jason pulls him up again, has him pinned against a wall and the situation feels all too familiar. Only now, it won't end in confusion, but in bloodshed.

Raymond decides to improvise a bit more. He blindly reaches out for the shelf next to him and grabs ahold of the object closest to him --- a blue ceramic vase, the vase his mother left, and smashes it against the side of Jason's head.

Without any time to process the shattering sound, the shards cutting his palm or to see what happens to Jason, he makes a run for it. Something is sitting on the counter, shining. His pocket knife. Finally. He grabs it just in time, too, because Jason is back.

Raymond doesn't want to use it on Jason. On the guy so shattered by his girlfriend's tragic death, lost with no hope to find out what really happened. He wishes he could sit him down and explain it all, wishes Jason would believe him, but he's too optimistic. He knows Jason would never understand. He'd want to hurt him. To hurt the others.

"Stay back, Jason. Don't make me do this." He rests his back against the locked bedroom door and raises the knife in front of himself, its sharp tip almost digging into Jason's stomach.

His two friends seem to have decided to join, both behind him like puppies. One of them is leaning against the other, leg bleeding.

They're closing in on him. He has no time left.

"You've made a mistake. Whatever he's told you to make you wanna die for him, it's not worth it." Jason spits out blood. "He and his people are not worth dying for."

And Raymond replies with the only thing he knows. "You're fucking wrong about that."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
‼️‼️ IMPORTANT ‼️‼️
i need you guys to tell me something honestly and rationally regarding eddie's fate.

i have one particular type of ending in mind already, i've had it from the start and it will most likely remain like that, but i wanna hear your opinions as always, i can't promise i'll take your advice, but i'll definitely think this through carefully..

eddie can either die or live. i don't wanna kill him off just for the sake of killing him off, but i also don't wanna let him live just because i love him a lot. i want it to fit the story and to make sense. this isn't necessarily a fix-it fic so i keep getting scared that if i kill him, you guys will stop reading, but also if i don't, some of you might not like how ridiculous it turns out

just let me know what you think. i already know what i'll do, but i just want to hear what you expect

now, moving on to this chapter!! guess who just left you all on a cliffhanger lmaooooo

well shit, we got a jason x ray interaction and it was....uh.... very fun. also, jason's pov and his opinion on raymond and eddie are not completely unreasonable, you'll see pretty soon!

BUT EDDIE AND RAYMOND THO??? they're my parents. like you don't understand, they're sitting with me right now, my two beautiful dads, telling me how to write this.

no seriously they're so cute i love them okay bye

ALSO DARK HAIR FELIX DARK HAIR FELIX DARK HAIR FELIX HE'S SO HOT

why does eddie get to have such a pretty husband and i don't smh

p.s. derek is a completely made-up person because the dude speaking didn't have a name as far as i remember so....... yeah