[Easy as that. Billy remembers a face; rich boy clothes and smooth, golden hair. He probably hated him too, if he’s honest. Gently, he pries Eddie from him. Lays him down and leans over, uses a knuckle to clear his face of hair.
Billy Hargrove is a predator. His smile is gentle, but it’s there, behind his eyes. Something cruel; something horrible. ] I won’t be long. Promise.
[He doesn’t kiss Eddie Munson. Not yet, anyway. He does leave him as comfortable as he can, grabs his jacket and leaves to hunt. It’s muscle memory, driving some old car to Munson’s place. Remembers one or two times during summer, before he’d been taken. He’s lucky the gates right there. Lucky he can’t hear voices on the other side. Staring at it feels exhilarating; surreal.
Squatting into a jump, grasping the edges of it and climbing through feels better. Hitting the mattress, feeling the crisp air of reality hit his stale, dead longs feels so fucking good he almost cries. Not now, though. Now he has to focus.
It takes him two hours to find Jason Carver, because all it takes, in the end, is to listen to the gossip on the wind, to sniff out a Hawkins High jacket and follow. He finds him at the Creel house, finds him at the door and grabs him fast. He smells like rage and hate; like bad cologne and misguided righteousness.
He has no idea he’s probably just saved Max’s life, but he knows she’s in there and he fucking hesitates a second before he drags an unconscious Jason Carver back with him.
He wakes up when Billy pushes him through; screams when Billy lands next to him. It’s not his fault he has to punch him to knock him out, but he isn’t complaining. Dragging him home is less of an ordeal that way anyway. He’s pliant when Billy ties him to a chair, heavy and limp when he drags the chair down the hall to the room that isn’t his, and leaves him opposite Eddie.
Billy looks mean when he pulls Jason’s head back by the hair to pry his mouth open to gag him. He looks delighted. ] There we go. You want him awake, Killer?
[ it should make him sick, waking from restless sleep to find his tormentor tied and gagged.
Eddie isn't cruel by nature. Ozzy biting the head off a bat might be metal, but Eddie scoops spiders out of the shower with his bare hands. Feeds the cats in the park with money he don't got.
But it doesn't. It doesn't.
He's so hungry and cold and Jason is a fire burning bright, the smell of him suffocating. His mouth is watering and he understands the assignment - trying to sit up and eat without giving a proper answer. ]
[Cute. It’s a tough choice whether to push Jason to him, or help Eddie up. Tougher choice not to take Jason for himself, but he’s - he’s tired of being alone. Jason’s eyelids are fluttering, though, and with a sigh he lets his head drop and pushes the chair forward.
He moves to Eddie after, carefully moves his hips, mindful of the mangled leg - wonders if that will heal at all - and then he gently lifts him from under his armpits and inches him forward. ] That’s it, careful.
[It’a not that unlike holding someone over a toilet: when Eddie’s balanced, he holds his hair back and gently urges him forward.]
[ It's fucked. There's some part of him that comes online as Billy picks him up, catching up with what instinct is compelling him to do and take.
But it's ignored. Billy's gentle touch and encouragement take precedence.
The bite Eddie gives is savage. Jason jerks awake as those fanged teeth gouge into his neck, his panicked eyes going to Billy and then to the man he's holding. ]
[He hums, something that sounds vaguely like Iron Maiden, glancing at Jason with an empty sort of grin. ] Nothing personal, Carver. From me anyway.
[He can smell the blood, can practically taste it in the air. Jason’s ragged breathing is so fucking loud, Billy can hear his heart working overtime with the effort of being alert. He waits, though, until Eddie comes up for air, to reach out with a thumb to catch some of the blood. ] Take it slow, Munson. Don’t choke.
[ It's the music. It's always the music. The bars of the song give him some semblance of self control and when he breaks, he leans hard back into Billy. There's color returning to his skin, though there's also fresh blood leaking from wounds that have yet to close. ]
You deserve this. [ he says to Jason, low and raw. ] I didn't kill anyone... Anyone but you.
[ his stomach turns a little, but when he returns to Jason's neck he's better able to pace himself. Drinking slow and careful, with control. ]
[Now that piques his interest. He tilts his head, watches Jason Carver with a new kind of curiosity. Watches as he tries to scream, to thrash, furious and panicked. Billy moves lazily: lets Eddie’s hair fall back into place, standing and circling to crouch at Jason’s side, holding him down.
[ it's only proving Jason right. Proving that deep down he is a monster. He doesn't even taste good - hot and metal like his rage is bloodborn - he just drinks and drinks until Jason stops making sound.
He's not dead. Yet. Just unconscious, but dying. Eddie pulls back and wipes his mouth. ]
... Carver tried to kill me. Got the whole town in on it.
[He glances up at Jason’s face, finds that he really doesn’t like it. He might ruin it, later. He feels alive - maybe the old fight in him will come back to. Maybe, maybe.
For now he pulls Jason back to give him enough space to crouch in front of Eddie. Gives a little push to inspect the bites.] Still feel like shit?
Still feel like I got run over by a truck, but the fires gone out.
[ The wounds on his face have closed. The ones on his abdomen no longer bleeding and slowly working their way to healed. But that leg is going to take more than one feeding to be put back in order, if it can be. ]
Have you been... [ like this ] in here the whole time?
[He snorts. Can’t help it. He hates small towns so fucking much. ]
Fucking Christ. [He’s up again, sits at the edge and glances, briefly, at Eddie’s leg. He will need more blood for it. Maybe more than Jason has. That’s fine. There’s a whole fucking basketball team. ]
Evil wizard - Munson. [It’s a soft tut.] I don’t what it is. I don’t even know what the fuck I am anymore. But you weren’t a killer.
[All bark no bite. He thinks.] This place gets inside you, though, man. Real fucking deep.
[He’s so - unmoored. Hasn’t thought of Max in a long time, and then tonight he’d known. Known she was there.
He wets his lips. ] I can do it. Kill Carver. But you’ll need more blood first.
[He thinks he should care, maybe. Should recoil a little at the thought of murder - and yet. It’s just necessary, now. A chore at the end of the day. ]
The trailer was empty. Not a soul. Promise. [He doesn’t know if Wayne will be back, though. Supposes it might be awkward once all that police tape comes down. ]
The whole town felt tense. Could smell it all close together. Wherever he is, he’ll have eyes on him.
[He’s rifling, pat, pat, patting until he finds his treasure. ]
- Figured this would be more important. Don’t worry, I’ll go get her.
[He could go now, he supposes. He might feel better if Jason were a little weaker, though. Eddie can’t move, and claws and teeth only go so far. He wets his lips. ] If I leave you with him, you think you’ll be good?
[ his eyes roll to Jason. Unconscious but not forever. Not yet. He made a mess of him, drained him Pretty good, but Eddie knows now that doesn't mean they're dead. ]
[He considers. Calculates. Eventually slides the blunt into Eddie’s hand and gets up.] Don’t smoke it without me. If he wakes up, tell him I’m taking a leak.
[See, Billy knows Jason Carver’s only strong when he’s flanked by other jocks. He knows his own rep: knows it must downright piss your pants frightening now considering he’s supposed to be dead.
Eddie can use that.
He’s gone after that: retraces his steps with his eyes watching the skies. All red lightening. Thunder. He’s upset.
It’s not his problem, though. Not anymore.
Eddie’s guitar is not where he found him. It’s about fifty yards away with a slimy baby demogorgan using the strings as a scratching post. Billy rips it off and crushes it under a boot. The guitar, though? That he treats gently, all admiration. Beautiful, really. ]
[He doesn’t take his time, but the storm gets worse and it makes Billy itch. He can see the vines moving; twitching to life and sending signal after signal. He can feel a call, too. Some old connection that never really severed.
He ignores it. Prowls his way home, skin a little dusted with ash, and his adrenaline spiking.
Something is happening out there. Distantly. He hopes it passes them by. Still, he’s alert when he crosses back over the threshhold, baby in hand and - ah. Jason.] Morning, sunshine.
[His grin is still mean as he sits back down at the edge of the bed, holding the guitar flat across his lap.] Gotta clean the strings, killer. One of those things was using it. [It’s a softer murmur for Eddie.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, who seems real fucking alive now.] But she’s here, as promised.
[He can feel Jason’s eyes on him. Confused. Afraid. Hateful. Good, he thinks. He’d hate to be predictable.
The guitar he puts down against the dresser - within Eddie’s reach, if he wants it. It frees his hands up to shrug his jacket off. ] Geez, Carver, you keep staring at us like that and a guy might think you have a crush.
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Billy Hargrove is a predator. His smile is gentle, but it’s there, behind his eyes. Something cruel; something horrible. ] I won’t be long. Promise.
[He doesn’t kiss Eddie Munson. Not yet, anyway. He does leave him as comfortable as he can, grabs his jacket and leaves to hunt. It’s muscle memory, driving some old car to Munson’s place. Remembers one or two times during summer, before he’d been taken. He’s lucky the gates right there. Lucky he can’t hear voices on the other side. Staring at it feels exhilarating; surreal.
Squatting into a jump, grasping the edges of it and climbing through feels better. Hitting the mattress, feeling the crisp air of reality hit his stale, dead longs feels so fucking good he almost cries. Not now, though. Now he has to focus.
It takes him two hours to find Jason Carver, because all it takes, in the end, is to listen to the gossip on the wind, to sniff out a Hawkins High jacket and follow. He finds him at the Creel house, finds him at the door and grabs him fast. He smells like rage and hate; like bad cologne and misguided righteousness.
He has no idea he’s probably just saved Max’s life, but he knows she’s in there and he fucking hesitates a second before he drags an unconscious Jason Carver back with him.
He wakes up when Billy pushes him through; screams when Billy lands next to him. It’s not his fault he has to punch him to knock him out, but he isn’t complaining. Dragging him home is less of an ordeal that way anyway. He’s pliant when Billy ties him to a chair, heavy and limp when he drags the chair down the hall to the room that isn’t his, and leaves him opposite Eddie.
Billy looks mean when he pulls Jason’s head back by the hair to pry his mouth open to gag him. He looks delighted. ] There we go. You want him awake, Killer?
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Eddie isn't cruel by nature. Ozzy biting the head off a bat might be metal, but Eddie scoops spiders out of the shower with his bare hands. Feeds the cats in the park with money he don't got.
But it doesn't. It doesn't.
He's so hungry and cold and Jason is a fire burning bright, the smell of him suffocating. His mouth is watering and he understands the assignment - trying to sit up and eat without giving a proper answer. ]
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He moves to Eddie after, carefully moves his hips, mindful of the mangled leg - wonders if that will heal at all - and then he gently lifts him from under his armpits and inches him forward. ] That’s it, careful.
[It’a not that unlike holding someone over a toilet: when Eddie’s balanced, he holds his hair back and gently urges him forward.]
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But it's ignored. Billy's gentle touch and encouragement take precedence.
The bite Eddie gives is savage. Jason jerks awake as those fanged teeth gouge into his neck, his panicked eyes going to Billy and then to the man he's holding. ]
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[He can smell the blood, can practically taste it in the air. Jason’s ragged breathing is so fucking loud, Billy can hear his heart working overtime with the effort of being alert. He waits, though, until Eddie comes up for air, to reach out with a thumb to catch some of the blood. ] Take it slow, Munson. Don’t choke.
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You deserve this. [ he says to Jason, low and raw. ] I didn't kill anyone... Anyone but you.
[ his stomach turns a little, but when he returns to Jason's neck he's better able to pace himself. Drinking slow and careful, with control. ]
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He whistles, low.]
Jesus, Munson. That sounds real personal.
[What has he missed?]
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He's not dead. Yet. Just unconscious, but dying. Eddie pulls back and wipes his mouth. ]
... Carver tried to kill me. Got the whole town in on it.
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[He glances up at Jason’s face, finds that he really doesn’t like it. He might ruin it, later. He feels alive - maybe the old fight in him will come back to. Maybe, maybe.
For now he pulls Jason back to give him enough space to crouch in front of Eddie. Gives a little push to inspect the bites.] Still feel like shit?
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[ The wounds on his face have closed. The ones on his abdomen no longer bleeding and slowly working their way to healed. But that leg is going to take more than one feeding to be put back in order, if it can be. ]
Have you been... [ like this ] in here the whole time?
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[How has it been? Months? Years? Long enough for Jason Carver to take his place; to go full crazy. Hell, sometimes Billy feels a little crazy too.
He’s got an excuse though.] Why’s Jason Carver out to get you?
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[ he sinks back down against the pillows. ]
Carver thinks it was me. Whole town does. Because I like angry music and play a goddamn roleplaying game.
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Fucking Christ. [He’s up again, sits at the edge and glances, briefly, at Eddie’s leg. He will need more blood for it. Maybe more than Jason has. That’s fine. There’s a whole fucking basketball team. ]
Evil wizard - Munson. [It’s a soft tut.] I don’t what it is. I don’t even know what the fuck I am anymore. But you weren’t a killer.
[All bark no bite. He thinks.] This place gets inside you, though, man. Real fucking deep.
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And billy had no idea what they are either. More than the bats were. But less than they used to be. ]
Kinda got that when I shotgunned that asshole's throat.
[ he closes his eyes. ]
The kids are calling him Vecna. He's the thing that controls all the creepy shit in here.
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[He’s so - unmoored. Hasn’t thought of Max in a long time, and then tonight he’d known. Known she was there.
He wets his lips. ] I can do it. Kill Carver. But you’ll need more blood first.
[He thinks he should care, maybe. Should recoil a little at the thought of murder - and yet. It’s just necessary, now. A chore at the end of the day. ]
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[ they can't let him go. He'll be back to the town, expand the hunt, come in here and get so many people killed. Hurt his uncle doing it.
... His uncle. Shit. Eddie sits up. ]
Wayne. Wayne's gotta leave that fucking trailer, dude. There's a portal to hell in the goddamn ceiling.
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[There’s a hand on his chest, pushing. ]
The trailer was empty. Not a soul. Promise. [He doesn’t know if Wayne will be back, though. Supposes it might be awkward once all that police tape comes down. ]
The whole town felt tense. Could smell it all close together. Wherever he is, he’ll have eyes on him.
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This fucking town is cursed.
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[The literal hellscape outside is howling, the entire town is witch hunting his drug dealer, and Jason Carver is never going home.
It’s almost funny. ] You got any weed on you, by chance. I haven’t smoked a goddamn thing in months.
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[ he's so fucking tired. Letting his eyes fall shut, trying not to think about the way Billy's mouth felt on his. ]
You remember my guitar?
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[He’s rifling, pat, pat, patting until he finds his treasure. ]
- Figured this would be more important. Don’t worry, I’ll go get her.
[He could go now, he supposes. He might feel better if Jason were a little weaker, though. Eddie can’t move, and claws and teeth only go so far. He wets his lips. ] If I leave you with him, you think you’ll be good?
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Yeah. He's tied up.
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[He considers. Calculates. Eventually slides the blunt into Eddie’s hand and gets up.] Don’t smoke it without me. If he wakes up, tell him I’m taking a leak.
[See, Billy knows Jason Carver’s only strong when he’s flanked by other jocks. He knows his own rep: knows it must downright piss your pants frightening now considering he’s supposed to be dead.
Eddie can use that.
He’s gone after that: retraces his steps with his eyes watching the skies. All red lightening. Thunder. He’s upset.
It’s not his problem, though. Not anymore.
Eddie’s guitar is not where he found him. It’s about fifty yards away with a slimy baby demogorgan using the strings as a scratching post. Billy rips it off and crushes it under a boot. The guitar, though? That he treats gently, all admiration. Beautiful, really. ]
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His heart raced. ]
Hargrove's taking a piss. [ Those hateful eyes fix on him. Eddie meets his gaze with measured hatred. ] Stay fucking put.
[ he does. And Eddie sits back up, refusing to show weakness. ]
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He ignores it. Prowls his way home, skin a little dusted with ash, and his adrenaline spiking.
Something is happening out there. Distantly. He hopes it passes them by. Still, he’s alert when he crosses back over the threshhold, baby in hand and - ah. Jason.] Morning, sunshine.
[His grin is still mean as he sits back down at the edge of the bed, holding the guitar flat across his lap.] Gotta clean the strings, killer. One of those things was using it. [It’s a softer murmur for Eddie.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, who seems real fucking alive now.] But she’s here, as promised.
[He can feel Jason’s eyes on him. Confused. Afraid. Hateful. Good, he thinks. He’d hate to be predictable.
The guitar he puts down against the dresser - within Eddie’s reach, if he wants it. It frees his hands up to shrug his jacket off. ] Geez, Carver, you keep staring at us like that and a guy might think you have a crush.
[Jason flinches. ]
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