(the dive)

｡･:*˚:✧｡RAYMOND'S FACE ACHES, his entire head tortured by weak, yet consistent numbing pulsations and occasional hits of sharper pain, crisp and as cruel as the cold morning air. Eddie ended up cleaning his nose up last night with the ripped bottom of his Hellfire shirt, all gentle and quiet, and said he wasn't sure what was broken exactly. All Raymond knows is, it hurts like a bitch.

He sits up, immediately regretting moving his shoulder because fuck, it hurts too much. He grunts, holding his shoulder in place with his other hand, the one he'd sliced open, as though that would somehow keep the pain away, keep his arm in one piece.

Glancing down, he spots the red hues of bruises all over his abdomen. They turn purple where they disappear beneath his sweater, yet he doesn't lift it to see. He doesn't really want to. Instead, he zips up his jacket so Eddie wouldn't see, either.

As he turns his head to look behind himself, where Eddie had fallen asleep, his eyes land on an empty spot.

Eddie is gone and Raymond is suddenly taken back there.

Back home after he'd accompanied the kids to the trailer park, Eddie's jacket on his shoulders and Steve's guitar in his hands, and he's walking in to an empty house. All the fear he could taste on his tongue then, breaths quick and eyes wild, it's back now with an intensity that wasn't there then because back then, no one knew their names. No one knew where they were. Now, it feels like everyone does. Like any moment now, Chief Powell could come out of the morning fog with a gun pointed at Raymond, with Eddie already imprisoned, asking Raymond to hand himself over.

Moments like these make him miss Hopper.

"Eddie?" he calls out. He knows he can't be too loud because that nightmare of a scenario in his head could come true. Yet, the fact that Eddie's gone, that he's all alone in the woods, it makes him want to scream it.

It's somehow even colder when he steps out from beneath the rock and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, wraps his fingers around the knife and starts walking.

He's fully aware he can't go too far. He shouldn't. If Eddie finds his way back, he won't be able to find him and that'll only complicate things more.

Still, he tries to calm down. He has to. It's a delicate situation, at a delicate moment and he shouldn't freak out right away. Maybe there's a reasonable explanation for all of this.

Maybe Eddie panicked again. It would be completely valid, completely reasonable because Raymond is confused as shit, too.

They fell asleep in each others arms yet again. Lonely, terrified, hurting and finding comfort in the embrace, in Eddie's heartbeat against Raymond's ear and Raymond's fingers tracing Eddie's wrist.

It's all this is. Comfort. Temporary comfort two people struggling together can provide for each other. Something to help with the loneliness.

Yesterday, before the lake, before Jason, before everything, Eddie had almost kissed him. Right after they'd talked about it --- the fear, the loneliness, the fact that they'd been each other's only company in what is now proving itself to be the most eventful time of their lives.

That's all it is to Eddie. Eddie is scared and alone, stuck with someone familiar, and something is bound to happen within him. Some kind of temporary spark.

But Raymond is so fucked. It's ridiculous to even think about because he never would have thought he'd care so much. He assumed it had been thanks to the alcohol, the weed, the sexual frustration and Eddie being ridiculously hot, but there's so much to it. Eddie wrapping a blanket around him when he falls asleep. Attempting to make breakfast. Trying to comfort him when he thinks it's all going to shit. Watching with those big, warm eyes. Saying something stupid.

Eddie. Eddie, with his chains and leather and tattoos. Eddie, with messy hair smelling of Raymond's shampoo. Eddie, looking soft and gentle in Raymond's clothes.

It happened so fast. It's not normal, feeling his heart stumble into an endless pit without return over a few days. It wasn't supposed to. He didn't want it to, yet it happened, out of his reach and out of his control. He can't stop it now.

In a matter of days, their little bond has turned from a barely-friendship to sharing a bed, holding hands and almost kissing and to Eddie, it's an escape from this kind of reality, but to Raymond, it's turning into so much more.

He's been finding himself looking at Eddie for no reason whatsoever. Every smile he offers, every touch to the small of Raymond's back or the brush of his hand against Raymond's, it makes something inside Raymond stir. A rush. A rush of something new, something terrifying.

It was never like that with anyone before. With Billy, it was different. The rush was there, yet it tasted different on his tongue. The fear of excitement that came with falling. This isn't it.

This is the taste of his heart settling into place. And that is the scariest part.

They're meeting the others today. From this day forward, they'll be around other people all the time. It will change. Eddie will change, he'll grow cold and go back to his old self because Raymond will not be the only person around anymore. It's over.

A twig snaps behind him and he pulls out the knife, points it in front of himself as he turns around.

"Jesus Christ, Park!" Eddie exclaims, lifting his hands in the air. "It's me, it's just me."

"Where were you?" Raymond asks, surprising himself with the wariness that laces his tone.

"Taking a piss."

"The whole time?" Raymond raises an eyebrow. "Hope you washed your hands."

Eddie only grins. "Licked 'em clean."

"Oh, fucking hell..."

"Nah, I'm fucking with you," he continues, lowering his hands. His voice drops to a quiet murmur and Raymond would almost call it shy, if he were any dumber. "I got you something."

That's when Raymond notices the flask in his hand. Eddie offers it and Raymond furrows his eyebrows.

"You found this?"

"It's mine." He pats his chest as Raymond grabs the flask and sniffs it. "Found it in the vest pocket. It was almost empty."

"You carry alcohol to school?" He isn't sure why he's surprised. "What is it?"

"It was vodka. Now it's water."

Oh.

The very thought of water makes Raymond swipe his tongue over his dry lips. He glances down at the flask, then back up at Eddie. "For... me?"

"Yup! Had some, figured you'd want a bit."

"How'd you find water? I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to go to that bloody lake after... you know." He pauses as Eddie's grin drops. "Isn't it being investigated as we speak?"

"Probably is, dunno. That's not where I went." Eddie rubs the back of his neck and turns around. Raymond follows him to the rocks until they find shelter again. They settle on the ground, a safe distance between them that wasn't there last night. "There's this cave, deeper in the woods, with a stream."

Raymond frowns as he takes an experimental sip. In any other situation, he'd wait, maybe even offer it to someone else first, someone perfectly disposable --- Steve Harrington or his favorite kid, for example --- and see if he rolled over and died. Then, if Steve, under some unfortunate circumstances, lived, Raymond would drink. Right now, though, he simply empties the whole thing which probably isn't very clever, considering they might be stuck here a while.

He's been in America for years now. He's spent all of them right here, in their miserable little Hawkins. How he doesn't know about a whole cave in the forest near his home, he isn't sure. Maybe his mother is right, when she looks at him down the long bridge of her nose, picks him apart through her glasses and points out every flaw, like his freckles, for example, and tells him he should go out into the sun more often. Maybe he really is missing out on things.

"How do you know about that cave?"

"Oh, I have my ways." Eddie smirks. "I've had customers who wanted to meet here and there. Discovered a lot of nice spots thanks to my job."

"So you decided to go and get some water without waking me up? I could have washed up. I'm literally soaked in blood."

The crease on Eddie's forehead cuts through him and he regrets bringing it up immediately. Eddie's eyes trace the cuts on his face, then drop to the fully zipped jacket with doubt. "Right, well... I didn't wanna wake you up. I know you needed rest." Raymond's heart flutters in all the disgusting ways at the words, but he pushes it down, swallows it back before it can jump out and shatter. "Plus, I don't exactly have a watch to know how long I've been away."

At that, Raymond proudly lifts his wrist, his waterproof watch --- a Christmas gift from Mrs Harrington --- still ticking. "It's almost eleven."

Eddie's jaw clenches at the visible mockery, but he ignores it and Raymond supposes he's doing it for his own good. "Around two hours, then."

"Cool."

"Cool." Eddie purses his lips and that's when Raymond notices it. The hesitation. The subtle flicker of something gentle in his eyes, something hurting that wasn't there, not even last night.

Something happened.

He clears his throat. "So... wanna tell me what's wrong or should I guess? You did say bad news first. Fucking hypocrite."

"Right, right, don't freak out." Raymond glares at him and Eddie sighs. "Our names have gone public this morning."

The feeling of his heart sinking into the darkness of his chest wipes the glare right off his face. He feels unusually hollow, like the darkness may be infinite and the heart is not coming back anytime soon, gone forever, away from all the pain it's been carrying all along.

He watches Eddie, who only waits, silent and guilty.

"Both of us?"

Eddie nods. "Both of us."

Raymond shakes his head immediately. "How'd you find out?"

"I talked to the others."

"The walkie's dead. Bloody soaked."

"I found another one," Eddie explains through gritted teeth. His exasperation is visible, but he flinches, realising his mistake and calming down. "Stole it, actually. Henderson and the others, they'll be here in a few hours."

Raymond nods, words hard to work with all of a sudden. He averts his gaze to his muddy boots and the ground beneath them, to the blood stain on his jeans, to anything but Eddie because he can't do this.

He's so disappointed and Eddie can't know because if he does, he'll blame himself, more than he already does and Raymond won't let it happen.

Although, he isn't entirely sure what he's disappointed in. The shitty boat that wouldn't work. The cold water. Jason and his guys. This fucked up world.

A tiny, bitter and poisonous part of him is disappointed in Steve Harrington for not picking up, not coming to their rescue when they needed it.

"Ray, I'm so fucking sorry."

"No reason," Raymond mutters, finally bringing himself to meet Eddie's terrified eyes. "You didn't know. I insisted to come with you. I still do." He cracks a grin. "Besides, I am fucking badass now. Imagine how cool I will sound to people in a year or two." He doesn't allow himself to pay attention to the way Eddie's gaze shifts into something different. He can't afford to. "I wanna find something to eat. Let's go."

These days, Eddie apparently does everything Raymond asks him to do. So of course they go. Of course they struggle through the forest for hours, trying to find something.

He isn't sure what they're looking for, but he tries to see any sign of life, anything they could use until they see the kids again.

It makes no sense, he knows, but he really hopes there's a five course meal waiting for them somewhere among the trees and he really fucking hopes he won't get to think more about what just happened.

Eddie, it seems, isn't too different.

He moves on from the previous topic quickly, it seems. Raymond isn't sure how genuine it is, but he can't risk it and check. He lets it happen, follows Eddie's lead until their conversation is as light as it should be in such a situation.

"Wayne used to make that all the time. He would always add too much pepper or burn the eggs, but it would just taste so good." He sighs because apparently, telling about his strange family recipes is more exhausting than scavenging for food. "He eventually stopped because I stopped asking, learned to make it myself, but he always did it so much better."

"How'd he come up with that recipe anyway?" Raymond questions because Eddie's just listed off instructions he couldn't follow even if he actually tried, so he simply hasn't been listening.

"He didn't, my father did," Eddie's smile slips right off. "Wayne learned it from him, changed it up. I disliked dad's, loved Wayne's."

And yet, Raymond can't steer clear of those difficult, darker topics that make his chest heavy and his hands restless.

He swallows, the image of Eddie trembling in his living room as he told him about his parents engraved into his mind. Yet, the story still feels incomplete. As though Eddie had intentionally filtered it out, leaving out the parts he didn't want to share. He's scared there's something he missed or misunderstood, that Eddie wanted him to understand, but he only disappointed him by failing to see.

"What happened to him? And your brother?" he asks lowly as Eddie holds back a branch to let him pass without getting slapped in the face. They're almost back at Skull Rock now and the kids should show up soon. "You don't have to tell me if you don't wanna."

"It's okay, I guess. I owe you that much of an explanation anyway."

Raymond stops walking altogether, turning to him. "You don't owe me anything. If you don't want to talk about it, don't feel pressured because of anything, yeah? It's your personal shit."

"I know," Eddie chuckles, eyes suddenly inexplicably soft. He's gazing into Raymond's with an honesty that has him breathless. "But I don't want to to this anymore. It's always like this."

"What is?"

"We've known each other for years, but we don't know anything about each other." He shakes his head. "All we know is the shit we've told each other while doing drugs or smoking or drinking or whatever the fuck it is we've done, but it's always just pieces. We know each other well, but we actually don't know each other at all, don't you agree?"

"Yeah," Raymond confesses as casually as possible. "I suppose you're not as shallow as you seem to be. I might even enjoy getting to know you."

Eddie simply gives him the finger and continues talking as though nothing happened. "I gotta warn you, though. Your opinion on me might change for the worse after this conversation."

"That won't happen."

He doesn't even bother thinking about it. It's true. After all these days, all these years, he knows --- just like he knows that Robin likes that cute girl from band, knows that Steve's favourite colours are blue and dark red, knows that he can't stop staring at Eddie's lips --- that there's nothing in this world that Eddie could do to make it happen.

The beauty of Eddie Munson stretches further than his dumb humour, yet brilliant ideas, his poor concentration and fascinating memory. It's his devotion to the people he cares about, his talent for realising when Raymond's at his lowest and helping him stand on his own, something so uniquely broken, yet fixing, patching up on its own in the most wonderful ways, bit by bit.

Raymond could never hate him. Not even a little.

"Right," he croaks out, eyes on Raymond's, wavering. Raymond sees his gaze soften, in surprise, in awe --- he isn't sure what it is exactly, but he's afraid that's just how he himself looks when Eddie says anything remotely sweet. Ew. "Right, yeah, so... I should probably tell you what happened after my mom got sick."

They continue walking. Eddie's fingertips pick at his bottom lip again and Raymond reaches out wordlessly to stop it. He retracts his hand immediately after, crosses his arms over his chest to keep himself from touching Eddie any more. Not touching Eddie has, he notices, become a struggle.

"You see," Eddie starts out, jaw clenched, "she was, like, super sick and we all thought that was the end, but turns out, even then, she didn't need us. She said she didn't wanna die next to that monster of a man, our father, that she was tired. She left us and never came back."

Raymond winces, "Fucking hell. I thought I was gonna like her for being there for you, but she turned out to be a bitch."

He's afraid he's crossed the line, insulting someone Eddie grew up with. No matter how bad of a person she is, she's his mother.

Yet, Eddie only nods, letting out an empty little chuckle. "A bitch, indeed," he agrees. "My brother and I were all alone without her. Dad was there, but that doesn't really count, you know." He shrugs. "All he did was cause trouble. He was... hitting me more often. She wasn't there to stand between him and me, to protect me, so I fought back on my own. Things got really rough."

Quietly, Raymond sighs. "Did he hit your brother?"

To his relief, Eddie shakes his head. "No. God, no, he loved Dylan. Dylan was, like, everything I wasn't." His expression softens. "But Dylan hated him for hurting me. Those fights, all the drama, it scared him. He was so little, he... He never had a normal family." Eddie falls silent for a moment, slowing down his steps until they falter altogether and he stops again. Raymond's arms drop to his sides. "I never heard him speak."

Raymond can't imagine that. Eddie, nothing but a child, hiding bruises and cuts beneath his clothes, hiding all the grief, the pain, the guilt. His mother had just left and his father was torturing him constantly for something he couldn't change, causing so much fear to be born inside his little brother, a clueless, helpless being who'd never experienced familial love the way he was supposed to.

That was probably around the time Eddie and Raymond first met, middle school. All along, Eddie was struggling. Raymond had no idea, labeled him a strange guy with too much to say.

He was so wrong.

"Was it... around the time I moved to Hawkins?" Raymond feels Eddie's knuckles brush against his.

Eddie nods and continues walking, slowly and carefully, avoiding big tree roots and nasty puddles. "Yeah. I was, like, fourteen and Dylan... he was eight, almost nine." His breath gets caught in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut, as though every new sentence brought him pain. Holding his breath, Raymond finds Eddie's hand with his and holds it. "Dad was gentle with Dylan. He always treated him properly, fed him well, bought him nice shit so he'd learn not to be like me. I assumed that, with me gone, dad would go back to normal and Dylan wouldn't suffer. That's when I did it."

"Did what, Eddie?"

The rock closest to them seems to serve its purpose because Eddie leans against it, head hanging low. He looks away from Raymond, hides his face, the fear of Raymond not seeing him the same way anymore visible to Raymond himself.

It seems to take Eddie a second or two, collecting himself, bringing himself to speak. Raymond would stop him, tell him he doesn't have to, but he knows Eddie needs this. He needs to say it. That's the only way to get over the guilt.

Finally, Eddie turns back around and their eyes meet again. His hand starts slipping away, weak and shaking, but Raymond doesn't let it, intertwining their fingers and squeezing so Eddie knows.

"Babe, what did you do?" he whispers.

"I ran away," he finally says and Raymond feels a lump in his throat. "I left my brother with that psychopath and disappeared."

Crazily enough, Raymond now remembers it. He remembers looking around the lunch hall, waiting for that weird band kid to show up, unsuccessfully. He remembers months passing, remembers the confusion because 'Eddie Munson misses school only when his bruises take too long to heal.' Then Eddie came back, months later, once shaved head a mess of soft curls, eyeliner framing his eyes and Raymond now finally knows why he repeated that year.

He disappeared so he could come back as himself. His real self. Not the shell his father had created for him, had turned him into, but the actual Eddie Munson. Someone so beautifully extraordinary.

Wayne Munson is an incredible parent.

"I didn't know where to go," he says, sniffles. "Then Wayne found me and took me in. Dad and Wayne never talked, Wayne disagreed with everything dad stood for, they... Wayne hid me from him for, like, a year. And then, we heard my dad overdosed."

Raymond rubs circles into the back of his shaking hand. He isn't sure when he started exactly, but at some point, he catches himself doing it and decides not to stop because it seems effective in keeping Eddie calm. As calm as one can be when telling something like this.

He brings himself to ask, "What happened to Dylan?"

Eddie's eyes avert from Raymond's and his voice breaks. "We couldn't find him. There was just gossip that he did something to dad, that he should be locked up. He was sent off to this orphanage thing in Indianapolis, probably because no one could contact our mother."

Raymond can't find the right words because all he can think of his this is so fucked up. He truly didn't know anything. He only knew Eddie's parents were a bit strange, how something happened and he moved to his uncle's. He didn't know he had a brother, he didn't know about their relationship or what their mother was like.

Eddie was right earlier. They really don't know each other that well at all.

"And have you tried... looking for him?" he asks. "I mean, it's been a few years, could you not be his legal guardian or something?"

"Honestly, I was gonna go find him." Eddie shakes his head. "I was gonna save up some money and wait until graduation, then take a little trip, fully prepared to stand my ground and insist on taking care of him. I was gonna talk to him, see how he's doing." He chuckles suddenly. "Hell, I was even gonna give him a stupid ring, the one he liked when he was a kid."

"What makes you think you won't get the chance?"

Eddie looks up. "I don't think guys in jail get to be legal guardians to anyone, let alone damaged mute kids."

That's when Raymond remembers all the times he's joked about it. About Eddie getting arrested, not graduating. About their stupid little bet that drives him crazy in every way because Eddie wants to kiss him. About Eddie's fear of actually not making it. Failing.

Eddie doesn't want to graduate because of a title or because he necessarily wants to leave school, to live a better life. He wants a better life for his little brother.

Eyes averting from Eddie's restless fingers and drifting up, towards his eyes, Raymond swallows, feeling this weightlessness that comes with being honest. Being open.

"You'll make it," he whispers. "I know you will because you deserve it and hell, if you don't get to do it, then there's no real justice in this bloody world of ours." The weightlessness doesn't last because now his blood is pumping in his ears, his gaze barely meeting Eddie's and he tries to save himself, to fix it, to turn it into something lighter, less scary. "I doubt anyone in jail will be happy to have you, I mean, you literally don't know how to keep your bloody mouth shut."

"You can't be serious for one fucking second, can you?" Eddie raises his eyebrows, their moment dissipating. The ease in the way he looks at Raymond is beautiful and Raymond decides Eddie is the prettiest when he's happy. So he tries to make him the happiest one can be here.

"Nope," he replies. "I think sharing a cell with you won't be so bad. Objectively, it is, but not to me. I got used to it back home."

"It's not bad," Eddie comments and pushes himself off of the rock he'd been leaning against, his tone lighter, a tiny scoff leaving his mouth and fuck, Raymond's missed this. "You just can't appreciate my brilliance."

"Either that or there's nothing to really appreciate."

"You underestimate me. I bet you loved it, didn't you? Just sitting around with your goddamn cat --- she still hates me, by the way --- sleeping, eating, going to school, you were bored. And now, look at you!" Eddie cracks a grin Raymond's grateful to see. He pokes at Raymond's side, oblivious to the bruises and Raymond grunts, yet covers it up with a laugh. "You're a fugitive, hiding in the woods, running away from the police with a cult leader and murder suspect, little ol' me. Honestly, I think you should thank me."

As Raymond parts his lips to reply, rustling comes from the trees ahead. He clamps a hand over Eddie's mouth. He's not even surprised when Eddie licks it, only presses down harder, eyes on the endless green surrounding them. He steps back, behind the rock, almost slipping, yet catches himself in time to push Eddie back, too, and hides them from the eyes of anyone who'd come near.

Apparently, there's no need because the only tragic thing that shows up is Steve Harrington's bright yellow sweater. Raymond sighs in relief and lets go of Eddie, who, unsurprisingly, attempts to climb up the rock and grins at the kids with a kind of mischief that only means he's about to give them the scare of their lives.

Steve doesn't seem to see them, too focused on literally fighting the branches closest to him, stopping them from hitting him in the face. He's looking at the biggest rock, the shape of a skull, ignoring the smaller ones, including the one Raymond is behind, completely. "Oh, boom! Bada bing Bada boom!" As Raymond grimaces, Steve looks behind himself. "There she is, Henderson! Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face."

Behind him, undoubtedly, there's his favourite child. The blue eyes and curly hair beneath a cap, Raymond is certain it's the Henderson boy. Glancing up at Eddie, he sees the smile spread across his features at the sight of the kid, and he continues his struggle to reach the top, cursing beneath his breath, obviously rushing to meet him. Raymond smiles.

Dustin's holding onto something Raymond can only recognise as a compass, his face unreadable.

"Doesn't make sense," he mumbles and Steve only scoffs.

"Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it." He shrugs his shoulders. "Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead."

Right at that moment, Eddie, ever the dramatic theatre kid, jumps down and scares the living shit out of them both.

"I concur," he starts out, head high. "You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead."

Raymond's never seen the boy smile this wide as he sighs in relief and shakes his head. Behind him, Steve is watching as Dustin throws himself at Eddie and wraps his arms around him. "Jesus, we thought you were a goner."

The expression on Eddie's face is softer than it was before, as though a part of the boy's youth brought back his own. Despite the height difference, he melts into the embrace, closing his eyes. Raymond feels something fall into place.

"Yeah, me too, man," Eddie mutters. Raymond sees him look up at Steve and offer a nod. "Me too."

Steve doesn't seem to consider the nod enough. He steps closer, eyes still wary, looking right, then left, then back at Eddie. He runs a hand down his face. "Didn't you say Ray was with you?"

As Eddie's head tilts in confusion and he looks over to where Raymond is, Raymond feels a muscle in his jaw twitch.

Steve promised to check in daily, promised to be there. He's the one trying to make things right and when it's important, he's gone.

It's somehow always like that. Ever since Tommy and Carol, Steve's been that way, neglecting any signs his friend might need him, either oblivious or completely ignorant and this time, it was life and death. It was life and death and Steve chose to be ignorant.

Raymond steps out from behind the rock, arms crossed over his chest. Steve's eyes fall on him and he immediately rushes over, looking him up and down, inspecting.

"Jesus, what happened to you?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with," Raymond says simply and wraps the jacket around himself. "You should take that walkie, too. We don't need one if you're never there to hear us."

"We were at the Creel house, we couldn't---"

"Well, while you were playing haunted house, I almost drowned, so..." He gives him a smile that's nothing if not unkind.

Why he blames it all on Steve, he doesn't know. Maybe it's the fact that he seems all guilty now, that he keeps opening his mouth to say something, but closing it right after, coming up with nothing; that he was the one Raymond spoke to on that damn walkie, that night that felt like it belonged in a different reality.

Maybe it's just a matter of habit.

He turns to see Robin and Nancy come up behind Dustin, but that's all he sees, really, because within the second he's wrapped up in Robin's arms and surrounded by her scent and embraced by her warmth and fuck, this is what friendships are.

"Oh, my God, Ray, I'm so sorry we weren't there to hear you, we had this huge thing and we went to the Creel house --- you remember Victor Creel, right? Turns out Vecna was the one who killed his family and he was in the house last night, but he sorta wasn't, and we had to---"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here." He grunts. "Just don't choke me, please."

To show that she hears him, she squeezes him even harder.

Steve is looking at them over her shoulder and yes, it's definitely a matter of habit.

Nancy gives both Eddie and Raymond friendly little hugs, too quick to show any emotion, yet enough to show she's here. She's present and ready to fight for them and she wants them to live.

Lucas Sinclair is there next, offering an awkward smile. He keeps his eyes on Raymond's, avoiding looking anywhere where there's proof that his friends hurt him. He feels responsible and Raymond can see it, but he's not going to say anything about it. Not now.

And then, there she is.

Max Mayfield stands beside her ex boyfriend, a small smile on her face and headphones around her neck. Dark circles surround her clear blue eyes, yet she smiles like she always does. It looks like that smile Eddie gave him last night: not fake, but not quite there.

He doesn't think about it. Doesn't question it. Doesn't say anything. He only steps forward and wraps his arms around her, loosely and weakly, but he's here. Here to hear her gasp lightly at the action, to feel her hug back, to see her eyes shine with tears as she pulls back.

"What was that for?" she croaks out, her façade crumbling the longer she looks at him.

"Not dying."

Fucking hell, maybe home really is where the heart is.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
we're back bitches!!!

i really really really missed this book and i am so happy to finally be back. it's been one hell of a month and i was just unable to get this chapter out. i kept rewriting it and cutting it off and changing stuff up but this is how it is!!

thoughts?? i made up eddie's backstory like this because it suits my storyline so i hope you like it and it isn't too hard to imagine. i know when someone adds too many details to something that wasn't canonically there, it can be too much. i hope that's not the case here

i just wanna clarify that raymond is a little bitch and he's angry at steve and really fucking salty and steve is nice and we all know that but RAY DOESN'T!! ray sees him as s1 steve and nothing more. he has high expectations for someone who claims to have changed, claims they're ready to fix a friendship. in his eyes, steve isn't trying hard enough, he's all talk but he can't do something when he actually needs to. you can disagree, hell even i do, but it's his perspective and just..... let him be, yeah? their little story will be complete in its own time so don't worry :D

max and ray have my whole heart okay bye

thank you for your patience, for reading this book and loving it so much. it's almost at 1k reads and i wanna say you people mean the world to me <3