Chapter Text
It’s the first day of Sophomore year and everyone has just about gone back to normal. Dustin can’t for the life of him understand how they’re all supposed to ‘stay low’ and not ‘draw attention’ to themselves. Walking through the halls, it makes his stomach churn knowing that Eddie was attending the same place, walking in his same footsteps, yet he didn’t get to graduate. It’s almost like his ghost still roams the halls, unable to leave without proper closure. Fuck that though, Dustin knows that the last place Ghost Eddie would be trapped at is school. He’s too metal for that, anyways.
Much to the dismay of his friends, he occasionally dawns the Hellfire shirt with pride. It usually gets him into fights. Unwinnable ones. At first it was terrifying, but then it became an escape. With each broken nose, swollen eye, or bruised rib came a blossoming feeling of pain, slowly fading into a unique flavor of pride. Every fight that he loses, his ego somehow expands. Maybe it’s the fact that the average person would give up after so many losses; maybe move away or take their own life, not able to deal with the terror that is getting your ass kicked weekly. Not him though, never him. As he walks through the halls, he’s suddenly grabbed by his backpack and slammed into the nearest locker. Andy spews out the usual spiel about demonic clubs and Eddie’s death, and all the other things he’s learned to tune out by now. No one in the hall bats an eye, they all just walk to their class like nothing is going on. They’re all blissfully unaware of the abuse that’s going on around them, or maybe they just choose not to pay attention. Dustin must look unamused because he’s suddenly being grabbed by his collar and once again thrown against the locker. His head hits the metal with a loud thud. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you.” Andy says, far too close for comfort. As Dustin is about to make some witty remark in return, Lucas steps up, biology textbook in hand. “I can’t help but notice you’re right in front of my locker.” He says, glaring daggers into Andy’s skull. The man’s grip loosens as he slowly begins to walk away, “Blame it on Henderson.” As the jock strides down the hall, Lucas rests his hand on Dustin’s arm. “Ignore him. I know it’s not your fault,” He unlocks the thin metal door and stacks his book on top of a few other study materials that are lying inside already. He looks down at the shorter boy’s shirt, “but seriously, what have we told you about wearing your Hellfire-” Just as he was about to rip into his friend, the bell rings and the two of them split ways: Dustin making his way to English, and Lucas walking to his history class.
Dustin slumps down in his chair, his demeanor dissimilar to the happy go lucky stance he would usually take on in the years prior. His body language seems to have changed, his friends have noticed. Like an old hand-me-down, it seems he got his newfound confidence and tenacity from a certain someone, though it doesn’t quite fit him. No one knows if he’s intentionally copying Eddie or if it’s going on subconsciously. They can’t decide which one would be sadder. Dustin pays just enough attention to stay passing in all of his classes. Claudia used to ask where her ‘straight A son’ went, but she quickly dropped it upon realizing that he probably wouldn’t come back. His thoughts are always occupied by his late friend, his mind acting as a sponge for everything relating to Eddie Munson and not leaving room for much else. It hurts sometimes, a feeling of pressure being built up with no release and nothing to serve as a distraction to the pain; a ball of discomfort constantly expanding to the point where thinking about anything else feels entirely impossible. It feels as though as soon as he entered the class, it was over. This is the case for nearly all of his classes, every week, all throughout the year. Even outside of school, life feels almost blurry at times. Dustin can’t help but feel like he’s trapped in his own head, simply living life on autopilot, not exactly controlling himself. It’s rare, but there are times when he zones out, and when he’s back, he’s lying in a field, or a parking lot, or shoved underneath some bleachers, with no recollection of the events that led up to it. These episodes don’t bother him much, as they’re the closest thing to happiness he’s had in a while – If you can define happiness as feeling no emotion at all and unintentionally barricading your deepest traumas behind the mental equivalent of a highly fortified military training base.
The gang used to meet up after their classes and plan the next hangout, or whose house everyone was going to that day. Now, when the final bell rings, each of the boys leave the building without navigating the building to even utter a ‘goodbye’. If a party member ends up bumping into another amongst the sea of gangly limbs and B.O., they might share a glance and a small smile, at best, before making a swift exit as if they aren’t best friends or something. Dustin walks through the crowded halls and makes it to where his bike is chained up. Lucas is standing there, waiting for him. “Hey.” He says. Dustin responds in his usual peckish tone of voice, “Hey?” It comes out like a question, ‘Hey? Why were you waiting next to my bike?’. It’s a harmless gesture between friends, but Dustin was starting to like how the party was drifting apart. It was less effort on his part to burn their bonds himself. Lord knows the creatures of Upside Down are still hungry and seething for victims to physically and/or mentally destroy. He doesn’t want his friends to like him enough to miss him when he’s gone.
Lucas hops on his bike and waits for Dustin to remove the lock from his. After he does, the taller boy pedals and says, “Follow me.”
After about 10 minutes of navigating the streets, the boys are once again locking up their bikes, this time in the dirt lot to the side of the Hospital. They walk into the building and check in with the receptionist, which takes little to no time at all. Each worker knows Lucas’ face and name by heart at this point. Usually he walks in and the nice lady at the desk tells him, “You’re all set.” before he even gets a foot through the door. The only difference this time was that Dustin had to check in. “Dustin Henderson.” He says when they ask for his name, “I’m going to see Max Mayfield. Or– Maxine, I guess, if you have her full name on the records. We’re friends.”
It’s been around 5 months since the gang fought the battle that was deemed an “Interesting, never before seen phenomenon.” Five months since the “earthquakes” that threatened to split Hawkins apart. Going back two months from now, is the time when Max woke up, describing her journey throughout Vecna’s mind, and how she could see Lucas playing her favorite song, using it to escape. The group wanted to throw a party, celebrating the fact that she was out of her coma, but decided against it, given that she still had so many casts and restrictions to the point she wouldn’t be able to enjoy herself. They save the idea for a later date as Max continues to heal in the hospital.
Lucas knocks and enters her room once he gets the go-ahead to come in. “I brought company.” He says with a smile on his face. “I hope that’s okay.” Dustin adds, and Lucas elbows him in the side, giving him a disappointed look, like he doesn’t understand why he would say that. “Of course it’s okay, dude.” He says as they both sit down on the uncomfortable plastic guest chairs. On a low volume, the radio is playing from the boombox on the desk. Max has made it a point to update Lucas on her newest favorite songs, because they both know that Kate Bush is an icon, but she’s heard “Running Up That Hill” enough times to recite the lyrics backwards if she wanted to. She cranes her head over to look at the two of them, it’s getting easier and less painful as her neck heals. She’s wearing a smile more often than what used to be her signature frown, “Lucas is right. I haven’t seen you in like 100 years, Dusty-Bun. Get me up to date.” Dustin laughs at the nickname, and Lucas nearly gets whiplash from how fast he turned to look at the other boy. It’s a sound he’s not used to hearing nowadays. It wasn’t a full laugh, it was more quiet and scornful, like he wanted to laugh but his brain told him that he couldn’t; like it was against the rules, like it was a sin, but it was a laugh all the same. Dustin speaks, “First of all, it’s been about a week since I last visited. Not 1000 years, or whatever you said. As for me right now, I’ve just been… I don’t know – getting through school and spending most of my time learning guitar to give myself something to do.” Max nods as well as she can with a brace over her neck, a habit she still has yet to break. Maybe this is one of the many reasons she’s happier. She’s been expressing her emotions and thoughts, rather than just nodding or making some vague head motion that probably didn’t mean anything to begin with.
“That’s good. I didn’t know you even played guitar. I used to play the drums. Once I get out of here, you and I can be a two man band.” She says. Lucas gapes, “I didn’t know either of you played instruments. I wish I could be a part of your band.” He pauses and listens to the radio. He quickly reaches across Dustin, increasing the volume slightly, “Oh wait, I can. Just listen to my beautiful vocals.” He begins singing along to the song playing with a goofy smile plastered on his face, and his hand pressed to his heart like he’s pouring his soul into the performance. Max and Dustin both break out into a fit of laughter. Dustin lightly shoves Lucas and tells him, “Okay, okay I’m sold! Now quit singing before I change my mind.” After that, the air feels lighter, there’s a connection, like finally finding out where to connect the puzzle piece you once thought went nowhere. Except these pieces have fit together before, which makes it all the more satisfying when you put them back where they belong.
Lucas rummages through his backpack and takes out his homework for the week. Max hums quietly to a song playing on the boombox. Suddenly the connection is gone, and Dustin feels like he’s intruding. This is obviously a comfortable silence and a routine between the pair that’s been built over the months. Lucas comes in after school every day, talking and doing schoolwork, ‘Just cause you’re awake doesn’t mean I’m gonna visit you any less.’ and Max talks with Lucas, finding random things to occupy her time, ‘So now instead of just hearing you, I have to see your stupid mug everyday?’ she smiles, no real malice behind her words. Dustin imagines that might have been how it played out. They’ve been close for a while. They dated for a few months before breaking up and realizing they were better off as friends. He thinks that might have solidified their friendship, drew them closer than they ever were before.
Dustin stands up, “I think I’m gonna head out.” He says. Lucas and Max look disappointed for a beat, but they don’t pressure him to stay, afraid he might lash out and distance himself more than he already has. Baby steps and all that. Max asks Lucas if he can step out of the room first and give her and Dustin some privacy. “Sure.” Lucas responds and the curly haired boy sits back down. When the taller boy leaves, the atmosphere is heavy. Nothing has been said, but there’s a sense of seriousness that lingers in the air, like sitting in front of the principal, knowing you’re about to get lectured for the umpteenth time about getting into unnecessary fights.
“I know exactly how you feel. You know that, right Dustin?” Max ditches her usual straight-forwardness and decides to dance around the topic instead. She throws out a vague sentence, hoping that maybe the boy sitting next to her will keep the conversation going at his own volition. “Yeah.” Is all he says, looking down at the square mix-match colored hospital tiles. The last time Max tried to speak about Eddie directly, Dustin simply walked out of the room. “You’re acting like an asshole. Just like I did. It’s not like I’m holding it against you or anything – cause I understand.” The boy’s face is completely unreadable. She gulps before continuing, “I understand what it’s like to lose someone. What it’s like to truly believe nobody cares about what you’re going through.” Her right arm is the only limb that’s not still restrained by a sling or a cast, so she awkwardly reaches over to the left side of her body where Dustin is sitting and holds her hand out. Something flashes in his eye, Max can’t tell what it is. Maybe a glimmer of hope. He scoots his chair closer and rests his elbow on the edge of the bed as he connects their hands. She gives an affirming squeeze, smiling at him. Dustin sucks in a sharp breath of air. He puts his left hand over the back of hers and holds her palm as though he would never get the chance to again. He shudders, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been a jerk. I don’t visit you as much as I should, Max. I know that you and I could probably help each other in a lot of ways,” The redheaded girl looks almost dumbfounded. She doesn’t miss how her friend specified that they would help each other, rather than just her getting him to talk about Eddie. “just – not yet. I can’t tell you about this stuff yet. I don’t even know if I understand it, myself.” He says with a weak smile on his face. Max grins, “It’s fine. Just make sure to stop by more, okay? We don’t have to talk about… All the shit that happened. We can just talk.” Dustin lets go of her hand. “Yeah. I’ll make sure to pop in here more often. G’night, Max.” He swings his backpack over his arm and moves to leave the room. He hears her say, “Night, Dustin.”
When he gets into the hallway, he sees Lucas sitting on the floor, reading an assigned book to pass the time. He heard the door close and was now standing up in front of Dustin. Lucas doesn’t ask what the two of them talked about, he doesn’t pry or act concerned for either one of them. Just gives Dustin a hug and tells him he’ll see him at school the next day.
Dustin never takes the elevator anymore. He walks down a couple flights of stairs and steps outside of the hospital into the warm night air. He spots Robin a few paces ahead of him, making her way to the parking lot. Usually he wouldn’t, but he calls her name. On most occasions he tries to avoid any contact with anyone from the party. Tonight is different. Her head whips around and a smile instantly grows on her face. “Dustin! Hey!” They walk up to each other and engage in their very own secret handshake. He can’t help but smile while they lock fingers because it always makes him think of the time Robin originally came up with the handshake. She feigned anger at Steve, saying how unfair it was that she didn’t get to have a handshake with a little kid. “What are you doing here?” Dustin asks. He’s following Robin – well she has her hand over his shoulder, guiding him to wherever she’s walking. “I was just visiting my gi-” She nearly jumps out of her skin, “Friend! My friend – is who I was visiting. Vickie.” Dustin looks skeptical. Thankfully for Robin, the conversation is cut short by a loud, “Henderson!” The joy in Steve’s voice is evident. It makes the youngest boy feel bad. Despite his greatest efforts to push him away, his brother never stayed mad at him after an argument, always defaulting back to the same old tone he’s always used with him. Dustin smiles, and ditches their handshake for a quick hug. Steve is stunned for a moment, a dopey grin plastered on his face. After a moment, he says, “Need a ride home?”
The drive back to his house is probably the highlight of Dustin’s week. Scratch that, month. Scratch that one more time; the highlight of the last five months of his life. There’s no talk about Eddie, no trying to get him out of his room, no pity. The three of them are singing their lungs out to all the crappy songs on the radio, just like they used to. Robin’s sitting in the back, dancing with Dustin as their hair blows haphazardly in the wind that comes from each of the four windows that are rolled all the way down. His hat flies off from the force of a particularly strong gust and Robin catches it, sticking it on her head and striking a few stupid poses that make the boy laugh. The volume lowers and the windows close as they pull into the Henderson Household driveway. He leans on Robin for a moment and she wraps her arms around him. “How about you call me next time you need a ride, Henderson? Or just if you wanna hang out or something – I mean, anything’s cool.” Steve says, and his words pick up speed near the end signifying his complete and utter loss of any sense he once had about what he was talking about. He often loses control over his mouth when Dustin’s around, nowadays. He always ends up saying something insensitive, rude, or downright pitying that he knows the kid doesn’t want to hear. It’s hard for him to navigate a conversation without sometimes sounding a bit like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Dustin disconnects from Robin, and opens the car door, “Yeah, of course. I’ll be sure to make a call to the WSQK radio whenever I need to go somewhere.” He says with a grin on his face. This makes Robin chuckle and Steve groans, “I cannot imagine having one of you guys on as a live caller, let alone to come ask me to chauffeur you around town. But, yeah. Just let me know, alright?” Dustin gives Steve a fist bump before stepping out of the car and wishing them both a goodnight as he closes the car door.
As he walks up the path to his house, he starts to cry. Steve and Robin are already down the street. He sniffles, wrapping his hand around the door handle and pushing the door open. His mom calls his name from the kitchen asking if he’s eaten already. He doesn’t respond out of fear that his voice may betray him and crack around the words he wants to say. He walks to his room, back turned to Claudia. He closes the door and flops onto his bed. He clutches his pillow tightly and sobs into the soft cushion. Dustin wonders how he could be so selfish. He had fun talking to Max and Lucas. Today was a day where he felt genuinely happy, hidden away and shielded from grief and sorrow. He had fun singing with Robin and Steve. It’s been a couple weeks since he last talked to them. Just the thought of their trio makes him smile, but something deep inside of his core tells him that it’s wrong. It’s so wrong to be happy; to smile when there’s people he won’t ever get to see again. He had so much fun without Eddie, and the idea makes him sick. He closes his eyes, thinking back to all the bridges he had started rebuilding today, and wondered how long it would take for him to break them down again.