multifandom oneshots/preferences

ridiculous crossover episode viii

"Eddie the Head?" it clicks for you. 

"Huh?" Wesley raises an eyebrow. 

"Eddie the Head! He's the mascot for Iron Maiden...right?" you look over at the zombie again as he stands up and approaches his cell bars, his decaying zombie body coming into full light. He's got his classic white shirt, messy gray hair, and jeans, tattered from years of mischief. 

"Who's askin'?"

"Uh, I'm Lieutenant L/n, Y/n L/n. This is Ensign Wesley Crusher."

"Yeah, tha's all right," he nods. "Tha's Vic ova' there."

"From Megadeth," you nod. "But..how? Aren't you fake? I mean...I've got posters of you in my quarters."

"We're real, alright. Murray's down there, somewhere. And imagine yer surprise when I tell ya' we got the Painkilla' 'ere, too," Eddie adds. "An' the Nightcrawla', but he don't talk much."

"You should take notes from that," Vic snickers from his cell. 

"The day I get outta 'ere, yer fucke-"

"How did you get here?" you ask. "How long have you been here?"

"Dunno. I was on tour one day, an' then here the next."

"What is going on?" Wesley nudges your elbow. 

"We're in a Kardassian/Ferengi prison that doubles as a shit storage unit and also holds mascots to iconic earth metal bands. Eddie was the mascot for the band Iron Maiden, Vic for Megadeth, Murray for Dio, and the Painkiller and Nightcrawler both featured in famous Judas Priest songs," you explain. 

"Uh, Eddie?" Wesley calls after a moment of consideration. 

"Yea?"

"When do the guards come each day?"

"I dunno. The clock I've got in 'ere's been broken fer ages. But I've not seen a guard down here in a while," Eddie shrugs as he leans on his elbows on the bars. 

Wesley reaches around the threshold, trying to find where the lock is. You join him and study the bar door. 

"I think the lock's right here, Y/n," he runs his hand over a subtly lighter gray circle in the outside of the sixth bar up from the ground. "Seems like a really old Kardassian lock...I watched someone break one in a movie once."

"And that's the most credible source ever," you smirk. Eddie gives a small chuckle across the hall. 

"It's no use gettin' the locks, kid," he calls.

"I don't think so," Wesley disagrees with a bit of a smile. You turn back and look through the junk pile to see if there's any tools you can find to take the lock apart. What you end up finding is something way cooler. 

"Hey, Wes, look at this!" you pace over to him and show him an old, beat up 2260's communicator. The metal mesh top had long been ripped off, but everything else was intact. 

"Oh my god," he mutters, taking the communicator and turning the knobs to try to tune it. Muted, cracked chirps come as the machine wakes up and searches for a signal.