Just Call My Name (And I'll Hear You Scream): Chapter 7

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Eddie nudged El in the side with his elbow as he scrubbed out a bowl. “You excited to go home?”

She smiled and nodded. “Are you?”

Eddie’s grin slipped. Oops. He and Chrissy had been too caught up in trying to make plans they had forgotten to mention them to anyone else. “Um, Chrissy and I aren’t going back to Hawkins.”

El frowned and put the plate she had dried into the cabinet. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “It’s not a particularly, um, happy place for either of us, so we figured we would start over somewhere new.”

“How far away?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure where we’re going yet.” He grinned. “But we’ll give you our phone number when we get settled somewhere if you miss us.”

The concern cleared from her face somewhat, and Eddie realized that was exactly what she had been worried about. “Hey, El–”

Boom.

For once, Eddie’s racing thoughts came in handy, realizing something wasn’t right and grabbing El by instinct, dragging her into the pantry. The two of them barely fit, and he could feel the shelves digging into his spine. El opened her mouth, but he clapped his hand over it, peeking out the tiniest crack in the door and trying to keep his breathing silent.

A man with a helmet and camouflage gear carrying a long gun burst into the kitchen through the back door, and Eddie felt his heart stop. Blood pounded in his ears, and he forced himself to breathe. He hadn’t heard any gun shots, so everyone was safe. For now, his traitorous mind whispered, but he pushed it away. These people were looking for El. He needed to get her out of here, and hopefully these guys would leave everyone else alone. Hopefully.

Someone said something in another room, but the pounding in his ears kept him from understanding. The man searching the kitchen looked up and left the room.

Eddie could feel El trembling against him and he knew she was scared for the others as well. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “the room is empty for now. I’m going to open the door, then you run as fast as you can out the back door, okay? I’ll be right behind you. There might be more guards out there. Do you think you can handle them?” He wished he had some sort of weapon on him, but he had nothing but an old, tiny pocket knife.

El nodded firmly, and he pushed open the door. They ran.

Sure enough, there were two men outside with guns, but El jerked her head, and both men fell, dropping the guns. Eddie kicked them out of their reach, but he didn’t trust himself to try shooting one. He grabbed El’s hand, and they ran down the street.

It didn’t occur to him how exposed that made them until he heard a noise and glanced back to see a large, solid white van with the back windows blocked off. Well, they could at least try to make it less suspicious–but that wasn’t important right now.

He dragged El into someone’s backyard, dropped her hand, helped her over the fence, then leapt over it himself. As long as they stayed off the roads, they would be safe, he thought–right as they came to a street corner.

The van turned a corner, coming straight for them, and a man inside leaned out the passenger window with a gun. Eddie grabbed for El again, though he knew there was no shelter they could reach in time, but the girl stood her ground, shoving her hand towards the van and screaming.

Eddie watched as, almost in slow-motion, the van lifted off the ground, flipped in the air, then landed heavily back on the street. “Ho-ly–” He cut off, doubting Hopper would appreciate him broadening his daughter’s vocabulary that way. (Of course, she had probably already been corrupted by the other kids. Eddie was fairly certain he hadn’t had as foul a mouth as Dustin at fourteen.)

“How did you do that?”

She frowned at him, wiping the blood from her nose. “You can do it too.”

Eddie shook his head. “Pipsqueak, there is a very big difference between pushing around a toy car or picking a lock, and doing that. That was . . . pretty metal.”

“Metal?”

“It was cool. Very cool.” She grinned.

He glanced back at the van. “We should, uh, we should get out of here before they wake up.”

She nodded and started to walk away, then stumbled. He caught her arm. “You okay?” She nodded and started to stand back up, but her legs wobbled.

“Okay, no, we’re not–we’re not going to do this. Here.” He knelt down with his back to her. “Climb on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.” She laughed for some reason he couldn’t understand, then climbed on, letting her head sag onto his shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked as he stood back up. She nodded and squeezed her arms around his neck. He started walking.

Chrissy watched, frozen, as the door fell apart. Jonathan dropped the phone, and a man burst in, shoving him against the wall.

Chrissy gasped, and Joyce shouted, “Stop!” The man turned to Chrissy and pointed. Another man came in and grabbed her arm, wrenching it around to see her wrist. She winced.

“Let go of her!” Joyce said, shoving the man, who turned to look at her like an annoying dog who barked too much.

He shoved Chrissy to the ground and grabbed his gun, pointing it at Joyce. “Stand by the wall and don’t move.”

“Mom!” Jonathan shouted.

“Check the bedrooms,” the man pointed the gun at Joyce said. Another man came in through the kitchen and nodded. Chrissy swallowed hard. Where were El and Eddie?

Bang.

Panic shot though Chrissy at the sound of the gunshot, but instead of Joyce, the other two men turned toward the sound.

Bang. Bang.

They both fell, and Hopper stepped out of the bedroom, holding a small gun, with Will hiding behind him. He waited a moment, glancing around, then asked, “Where are El and Eddie?”

“They were in the kitchen–” Chrissy began as she stood up, and Hopper pushed past her into the kitchen, glancing around, then cursing.

“They’re gone,” he said, and Chrissy’s heart dropped. “Okay, everyone stay behind me. We’re getting in the van as fast as we can, then we’ll find them.”

He walked back over to the hole of a front door, peeking out as he waited for them to crowd in behind him. They did, and he stepped out, glancing around, then hurrying them along to the van. They jumped in, and he was driving before they had all sat in their seats. Chrissy stumbled into Will and stammered an apology as she squished into the back with him and Jonathan.

“How are we supposed to find them?” Joyce asked, craning her neck to look through each window. “We don’t even know what direction they went in. What if we go the wrong way? They could be anywhere–”

“We’ll find them,” Hopper said.

“But–”

“We’ll find them,” he nearly shouted. “Just stop talking for a minute and–”

He broke off as a white van came into view–but not on the road. It flipped in the air, then crashed back to the ground, disappearing again.

“El! That’s El!” Will shouted. “She must be close!'

Hopper turned down the road the other van was on, maneuvering around the crashed vehicle. Eddie came into view, carrying El on his back. Chrissy let out a sigh of relief, and she saw his shoulders sag, too, when he spotted them.

He ran over as Hopper slowed and dragged the door open, turning and helping El in, then hopping in himself and slamming the door.

“El, sweetie, are you okay?” Joyce asked, reaching back to grab the girl’s hand.

“She’s–she’s fine,” Eddie panted. “Just wore herself out.

Jonathan reached up and grabbed her shoulder. She turned around and offered him a weak smile. Chrissy tapped Eddie’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He twisted around to look at her, then winced at the angle of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, just shaken. And tired, I guess. Are you?”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded and turned back, but he reached for her hand, entwining their fingers.

Hopper sped away, leaving behind the first place Chrissy could remember really being home.

No one spoke. The events of the day weighed heavily on them all, stifling conversation or any other sound.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, except Chrissy could feel Eddie start to pull away from her. It was a familiar feeling, but not one she had ever been able to explain.

Her mom had often pulled away like that. So had Jason and many of their friends. No one ever called it a punishment, but they didn’t need to. Her mother’s cold, sparse words after messing up a routine, Jason’s silence and pointed avoidance of his customary kiss on the mornings after a fight, her friends' cold smiles and lack of eye contact after missing the wrong party.

It felt all too familiar, but she didn’t know what she had done.

He shifted in his seat, tugging on her hand.

Which . . . he was still holding.

And, well, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember him ever being angry with her. Every time he pulled away, every time she thought she messed up, he told her later he was scared. And today had been terrifying, so maybe . . .

Hopper found a motel as the day began to fade into evening. He got out alone, paid for the rooms, then came back to the van to collect everyone.

El climbed out first to make room for Jonathan and Will, latching onto her oldest brother as soon as he was on the ground beside her. Eddie made no move to get out, or to let go of Chrissy’s hand, and she didn’t want to pull away yet either.

“Can, um, can Eddie and I stay out here for a little while? I think we both need to talk,” she said.

Hopper wanted to say no, she could tell, but Joyce laid a hand on his arm, shrugging and giving a slight smile. He sighed. “Alright. Twenty minutes. Any longer, and I’m coming out to get you.”

Chrissy nodded, and the rest of the group grabbed their bags and left. Without letting go of his hand, she climbed up to the middle seat and sat beside him before switching hands so she could hold his more comfortably.

He watched her curiously, but waited for her to speak. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

The look of shock on his face made her relax. “Mad at you? What would I be mad about?”

She shrugged and ducked her head. “I don’t know. You–you were acting weird.”

He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head, flashing a lazy grin when she looked up at him. “I’m always weird.”

She grinned back. “A different weird.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, I can see how that might be concerning.” HIs expression softened. “No, I’m not mad at you. I was just, um, thinking, I guess. I kinda get stuck in my head sometimes, thinking too much. Jeff used to snap his fingers in my face until I stopped.” He chuckled at the memory.

“What were you thinking about?” HIs expression darkened, and he shook his head. “Eddie . . . it’s obviously bothering you. If I can help, I want to.” She pulled his hand into her lap, twisting his rings.

“Its not–” he sighed. “I’m just . . . scared. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been running from all my problems, and I finally decided to stop, but, Chrissy, what if I can’t? What if the only way to keep you safe, to stay safe myself, is to keep running? What if every time we stop, they find us again?”

She frowned, leaning closer. “What if who finds us? What are you talking about?”

He swallowed and turned away, tugging on a strand of hair with his free hand. She reached over and touched his cheek, gently turning him back to her, but he dropped his eyes, still avoiding her gaze. “Eddie?”

“I–I don’t know how to tell you. I mean, I–I want to, but I’ve never told anybody. Well, Hopper and El know, but I didn’t tell them, they already knew.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked up at her now, and something ached in her chest when she saw how terrified he looked. He swallowed again, then pulled his hand out of hers to unclasp his watch. He held his hand back out, and she noticed the small tattoo on his wrist. 007. She brushed her fingers across it, and he sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes.

“What does it mean?” she asked. “Seven what?”

“It’s a brand,” he said, voice full of a venom she had never heard. “A claim, and a–a classification.” He took a slow, trembling breath. “That, um, that lab they say killed Barbara Holland and Bob Newby–”

“The one El’s from?” she asked.

His eyes snapped open. “You know about that?”

She shrugged. “Jonathan told me.”

He sighed, staring down at the holes in his jeans. “Yeah. Yeah, the one El’s from.” He tapped his foot and chewed on his lip, then burst out, “You know why they call her El?”

Chrissy frowned, confused by the change of subject. She shook her head.

“It’s short for Eleven. As in, the eleventh kid that doctor experimented on.”

Chrissy stared down at his wrist, the sight of the tattoo twisting her stomach. “Oh.” She closed her eyes and forced down the sick feeling. “Does–does that mean you’re–”

“Seven.”

She wanted to throw up.

The thought of one child experimented on was horrible enough, but eleven? And who knew if there were more after her? And Eddie, who had kept this secret so many years without telling anyone–

“What about Wayne?” She opened her eyes and found him staring at her.

“What do you–” he began. “Oh. Uh, when I got out, I recognized the name Hawkins and remembered my dad mentioning he lived there. I ran into Hopper, who helped me find him, and when I showed up–Apparently my dad had gone to jail while I was, um, gone. Wayne just assumed that was why I came to find him. I didn’t tell him any different.”

“Oh, Eddie,” she breathed.

“I–” he choked. “I thought it was over till Hopper showed up at the trailer telling me to leave. I mean, yeah my life sucked, but I had Wayne, I had friends. I always planned on getting out, but I still wanted to see them, you know? Call them up every once in a while, but I can’t do that if I"m constantly on the run. And I’m so scared it’s never going to stop, and, Chrissy, I never wanted to get you dragged into this. I–I should never have gone to that motel you were staying at. I should have let Hopper drive right past, but it’s so selfish, but I’m kind of glad I did because–because I really can’t imagine what I’d do without you anymore–”

“Eddie!”

He swallowed his next words, letting his eyes trail over to where she played with his fingers. She reached over and cupped her hand around his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I want to be here,” she whispered. “I’m glad to be here, and whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he gave a slight smile. “Okay.”

“Besides, you aren’t the only one running from your demons. Though I suppose mine are mostly in my head.”

His eyes snapped open. “You mean actually in your head, right? Not–”

“No! No, I mean things about–about my mom, or–” She stopped, dropping her gaze and fiddling with his rings again.

“Princess, you know you can tell me what’s on your mind, don’t you?”

She bit her lip. Wasn’t that exactly what she had been telling him all this time? And she did tell him things she was thinking sometimes, but there was still so much she hid away, burying it in hopes of never finding it again.

“Chrissy?”

“I was scared earlier,” she blurted out.

One corner of his lips quirked up in an attempt at a smirk. “I think everyone was scared earlier.”

“Not then. Well, yes then, but that’s not what I meant. I–I was scared of you.” That–came out very wrong.

He straightened, his brows drawing together. “Scared of me? Why? Chrissy, I’m sorry, I–”

“Not anymore!” she said quickly. “I’m not–I think I understand now, but you were being so quiet and acting different, and I can’t explain it, but it felt like when my mom would–would pull away to punish me, or when my friends wouldn’t talk to me because I–I did something wrong. And I was scared because I thought–I thought you were mad at me, but I didn’t know what–”

“Chrissy.” He took both her hands, squeezing them tightly. He was definitely angry now, but she didn’t think it was at her. “Stop. Just–listen, I get mad sometimes, probably more than I should, but I’m not going to just stop talking to–to punish you. That’s just–” He cursed and rubbed his hand down his face, dragging hers along with it. “That’s messed up, okay?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I stop talking sometimes, and I’m sorry I scared you, but that’s my problem, and clearly something I need to work on, and it has nothing to do with you.” He let go of her hands, cupping her face in his hands and swiping his thumbs down her cheeks, and, oh, she hadn’t realized she was crying.

“It’s not–it’s not just your problem,” she sniffed. “Most of the time you’re upset because of me.”

She could see him swallow. “Yeah, well, that’s just cause I’m so afraid of messing this up. But still, that’s not your fault.”

“But it can still be my problem, right? If I want it to?” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so she continued, “I–I mean, you help me with my problems, so I want to help you with yours too.”

She could see tears glitter in his eyes before he swiped them away, and he reached over, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could without either of them falling into the space between the seats. He held her like that for a moment, leaning his forehead against hers, before murmuring, “We should go. Don’t want Hopper to have to come out here and drag us inside.”

She swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

He opened the van door and hopped out, then bowed low and gestured to the motel, sending her into a fit of giggles exaggerated by exhaustion. When she climbed out and he shut the door, he twined his fingers though hers and led her around to the back to grab their backpacks, then they climbed the stairs to the two rooms they had watched the others disappear into.

She hesitated outside the door, not quite ready to leave him yet. “Good night, Eddie.”

“Good night.”

She made no move toward the door, only chewing her lip and rocking back and forth on her feet. He followed her movement with his eyes. “You should go to bed, princess.”

“I don’t want to.” She rocked closer, hesitating on her toes. The way his eyes locked on hers felt like a black hole, drawing her in. The weight of the backpack tried to drag her back, and she dropped it. A half-remembered physics lesson drifted through her mind about bigger objects attracting smaller ones. She must be getting smaller, drawn further and further into Eddie’s gravitational pull.

Or maybe she was getting bigger, because now Eddie was leaning in too. “Then what do you want?”

She knew it wasn’t what he meant, but there was really only one answer to the question. “I want you.”

She felt, more than heard, his contented sigh as he leaned even closer, lips pressing against hers. She heard his backpack drop, and he cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head to a better angle. She reached for him, her hands catching on his T-shirt. Her fingers slid up under the hem, brushing against his scars. He gasped, breaking the kiss.

She looked up at him, biting her lip and pushing away the memories of finding him lying on the ground, covered in his own blood, surrounded by those dead, horrible creatures. “I thought I lost you today.”

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “Soon,” he murmured, shifting so his mouth was just above her ear, “I don’t know when, but soon, it’ll just be the two of us in a new town, and we’ll find a place to live, and we’ll find jobs, and I’ll come see you at work every day and embarrass you–”

“You won’t embarrass me,” she protested, shoving him away, but not so far her hands left his chest.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Not even if I do this?”

He pulled her back and his lips caught hers again. His arms snaked around her and he tipped her backwards. She knew she wouldn’t fall, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly anyway.

He set her on her feet a moment later and she was sure even that couldn’t embarrass her. Not if it always made her head spin so much.

“Um,” she muttered intelligently, and he laughed. She flushed and whined, “that’s not fair!”

He smirked. “Why not?”

She crossed her arms and chewed her lip. Then she knocked on the door Joyce and El had gone into earlier, waited until she heard the lock click, the whirled around, snatched up her backpack, kissed the tip of his nose, and slipped past Joyce as his mouth fell open.

She collapsed against the wall, tipping her head back and sighing as Joyce closed the door behind her. “Good talk?” The woman raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Chrissy felt her already-warm face growing hotter. “We did talk. Really. About a lot of things.”

“I’m sure you did,” Joyce chuckled.

Chrissy fled into the bathroom to change into her pajamas. When she came out, Joyce was already tucked into one bed, reading, and El sat cross-legged on the other, frowning at Chrissy.

“Eddie said you won’t go to Hawkins,” the younger girl said.

“No. I, um, I can’t live at home anymore.”

“Why not?”

“El, that’s Chrissy’s business,” Joyce said firmly as Chrissy climbed onto the bed beside El.

El crossed her arms, still frowning, and Chrissy suddenly realized she looked like she was about to cry. “Oh, hey, I’m going to miss you too, but don’t worry. We’ll still call, and maybe one day we’ll come back to visit.” She hugged the younger girl, almost wishing for a moment she could go back to Hawkins, if only to stay with this new family she had made.

“We?” Joyce asked far too innocently, interrupting Chrissy’s train of thought.

She pulled away from El. “Oh, um, yes. Eddie and I decided to go together.”

Joyce nodded, not taking her eyes from her book. “That’s probably a good idea. That way neither of you will be alone.”

Chrissy smiled, uncomfortably aware of what her mom’s reaction would have been to the same plan. She climbed off the bed to hug Joyce. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Joyce put down her book and held her tightly. “And I’ll miss you.”

Next Chapter