A/N - This chapter was inspired (sort of) by the song Get Home by Bastille. I hope you all enjoy it.
Trigger Warning: This contains mentions of stalking and murder (but doesn't have any actual violence in it.) If this is likely to affect you negatively, please skip this one.
Sometimes, you didn't understand how you could be so damn stupid. When you had taken on the extra closing shift, you clearly hadn't thought about the fact that you closed way after dark. Nor had you considered that with your parents away visiting friends in a completely different state, you would have to find your own way home. And of course, none of that had clicked until after your coworker had locked up and driven away. So now, here you were standing on your own, well aware that you were about to have to do the 30-minute walk home alone in the dark.
After a couple of moments of hesitation, you shouldered your backpack, letting out a soft sigh. There was no point in standing around; it wasn't like a car was going to magically appear and take you home. So, off you went, walking as quickly as you could manage without breaking a sweat.
You'd only been walking for a minute or two when a car cruised past, driving far slower than was normal on Main Street. You glanced up as it went past, only to find the driver already staring at you. There was something about his eyes that made your stomach churn, a shiver running up your spine. It left you feeling gross, but you quickly picked up the pace, attempting to ignore the interaction.
But then, barely a block later, the car went past again, the same man staring out at you as he drove, and you felt sick. No one who knew anything about Hawkins would ever end up driving loops on Main Street. It just wasn't necessary. Everyone took the back roads. Everyone knew how to get everywhere without even needing to check the map. There wasn't a single route that would ever take you down this road twice.
You really were trying to ignore it. You tried to calm your racing heart. But then, as you rounded the corner, you saw the car again, parked right at the side of the road about half a block away. There wasn't a single part of you that thought walking past it would be a good idea. Not a single part of you thought that ignoring it would work this time. Sure, it could be harmless, but then again, it could not be.
You'd heard horror stories time and time again about girls being kidnapped and murdered whilst they were out alone at night. There'd been that guy out in California a couple of months back who'd killed 14 people. 14. And in the 70s there'd been tons of serial killers all over the country. Shit, you didn't want to end up with your face plastered over the front of a newspaper when they found you dead in some random back-road somewhere.
You gripped the straps of your bag tighter, swinging it off your shoulders and rifling through in search of your notebook. Eddie had made you a little scribbled index there when you'd first started working, claiming it was his duty as best friend and protector. It had been a collection of phone numbers that, he claimed, every adult would eventually need.
Emergency Services: 911.
Home Phone: 317-555-0170.
Pizza: 317-555-9190
The Hideout: 317-555-0278
Eddie/Wayne: 317-555-0947
He'd told you quite firmly that there would never be another number you would need and at that point, you'd laughed it off. When would you ever need to call him when he was always so busy calling you? But now, you were thankful for his slightly overprotective nature.
You scurried over to the closest phone booth, shoving in the coins with shaking hands and punching in his number. It rang for a moment, and your stomach clenched as you considered what you would do if he didn't answer. Did you call the police or was that an overreaction? What if it was just some guy and they all thought you were crazy for being so worried?
"Hello?"
You'd been so worked up that you hadn't even heard the line click when he'd answered.
"Eddie?" you murmured, clearing your throat quietly as you glanced back over to where the car was parked.
"Hey," he hummed softly. "What're you doing calling so late? You're usually all tucked up in bed by now," he pressed on, listening to you take a soft shaking breath. "Are you alright?"
You sniffled again. "I was walking home from work-"
"Y/N, it's gone 10 pm," he bit out, chastising you before you could even tell him what had happened. "Where's your dad?"
"Out of town," you murmured.
He let out a soft sigh. "Are you home?"
"No," you uttered, taking in another shaking breath. "There was this car and I think it's following me," you added. "It's parked up at the end of the street and I have to go past it to get home." You paused for a moment, listening to the movement on the other end of the line. "I don't know what to do."
"I'm on my way. Where are you?"
You hesitated, glancing around you. "On the corner of Moore and Main," you breathed out.
"Okay, Sweetheart. I can be there in 10 minutes. Why don't you start walking back to the shop and I'll meet you there, alright?"
"Alright." You sniffled again, hearing the car keys jingling in Eddie's hands through the phone.
"10 minutes," he reminded you. "Probably sooner."
You nodded, all too aware that he couldn't see you. "Okay," you murmured. "10 minutes," you repeated back to him before hanging up, throwing your bag back onto your shoulder and marching back the way you had come.
In 10 minutes, you would be in Eddie's van. You would be safe. He wouldn't ever let anything bad happen to you, you knew that. But still, your stomach was churning. A lot could happen in 10 minutes.
You kept glancing behind you as you all but ran back to the shop, clutching onto your bag straps so tight that your knuckles were turning white with the strain. By the time you reached the bright neon lights outside of the shop, you were panting, your body verging on a full-blown panic attack.
And then the van had pulled in, the headlights illuminating the dark parking lot and blinding you slightly. You let out a soft whimper in sheer relief, blinking away the little glowing orbs that had formed in your vision. Eddie must've broken a dozen traffic laws to get here so quick, and he was throwing open the door of the van the second it had come to a full stop.
"I'm here," he called out, practically running around the front of the van to reach you, his eyes roaming over you to check that you were unharmed. "I'm here," he repeated his voice softening as you burst into tears, letting him pull you into a tight hug.
He ushered you over to the van in an awkward half-embrace, helping you up into the passenger seat and fastening your seatbelt for you as you continued sobbing. And then he was doing something you weren't expecting, leaning up to press your face into his chest and kissing the top of your head as though it was the most natural thing in the world to comfort you so effortlessly.
You supposed it was natural, at this point. Eddie had been there when you'd lost your first tooth. He'd been there when you'd failed classes. He'd been there when your first boyfriend had broken up with you. He'd been there when other friendships had fallen apart. He was always there, ready to help and comfort. Ready to do whatever it took to make you feel happy and safe.
"It's okay," he hummed softly, balanced haphazardly on the corner of your seat, praying that he wouldn't go tumbling backwards out of the door. "You're alright," he reminded you. "I'm right here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Sweetheart," he pressed on, planting another delicate kiss on the top of your head.
It was only then that you seemed able to regain your composure, soft, shaking breaths slipping out of you as you sniffled back tears.
"Come on," he told you softly. "Let's get you home, Sweetheart," he added, finally releasing you to climb out of the van, and running around to the other side.
He hadn't even turned off the engine, you realised somewhere in the back of your mind. He'd been so worried about you that he hadn't even stopped the van properly before getting out to check on you.
"Can you point out the car to me if you see it?"
Your brow furrowed slightly as he pulled out onto the street. "Huh?"
"If you see the car, tell me, alright? Need to report it to the police." You nodded. "Do you have the notebook I gave you?" You nodded again. "Good girl. I'm going to need you to write down the plates for me, alright? And the make and model-"
"What about the colour?"
"Colour would be helpful too," he agreed softly.
You sat silently until you got back to the corner of Main and Moore. "It's that one," you breathed out, pointing directly at the car. From here, you could see that the driver was still inside, and your stomach started tying itself up in knots.
"Okay," he hummed, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently in his. "Write this down for me, Sweetheart. Gray VW Golf GTI MK1. Plates: A651 FEJ. You got that?"
"Gray VW Golf GTI MK1. A651 FEJ," you repeated.
"Perfect," he hummed, his eyes still focused on the car as he sped up to go past it. "Good job," he pressed on, attempting to keep your attention on him as he went past the guy that had you so terrified. "You did such a good job," he reminded you softly. "You did the right thing calling me instead of just walking."
You took in another deep breath, pulling your legs up onto the seat and hugging them to your chest. "I didn't know what else to do-"
"You always call me in these situations, alright? Doesn't matter when or why. If you need me, you call and I'll be there."
You nodded slightly.
"When do your parents get home?"
It was as if your brain went haywire at the question. Eddie was driving you home, where you would have to spend the night completely alone, other than the presence of your dog, Bruce. And you would have to spend the rest of the week alone too-
"Sweetheart?"
"They're gone all week," you breathed out. "Coming back Sunday."
He nodded, the drive to your house coming almost instinctually after years of ferrying you around. "Do you have any more late shifts whilst they're gone?"
You shook your head. "Nope," you murmured. "I'm on mornings the rest of the week," you pressed on.
"I'll drive you-"
"Eddie," you uttered, cutting him off. "What if he knows where I live?"
He stayed quiet for a moment, his hands clutching the steering wheel tightly. "I-" he started before letting out a deep sigh. "I don't know how to answer that question," he finally confessed. You nodded slightly, clearing your throat. "We'll call the police when we get to yours. They'll look into it-"
"Right," you murmured.
"How about, once we've sorted everything with the chief, we swing back to mine? I can pick up some stuff and leave a note for Wayne. I'll stay with you this week."
You hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure?"
"I'd feel better knowing that you're safe," he hummed. "I won't be sleeping properly if I'm always thinking about whether you're okay whilst you're all alone."
"I'll have Bruce with me," you corrected softly, hearing him let out a soft snort; the first laugh he'd allowed himself since you'd called.
He shook his head slightly, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Bruce is a pushover. He's hardly a guard dog," he chuckled. "He makes friends with everyone that comes to your house. He'd be rolling over for belly rubs if someone tried to break in," he added, before catching the concerned look on your face. "Not that anyone will try to-"
"Are you really okay staying over?" you interrupted.
He nodded. "Yeah," he hummed. "As long as you're alright with me being there."
"Yes please," you murmured.
*Time Skip*
Eddie had done all the hard work when reporting the car to the police, giving them every detail that you'd written down along with your explanation of what had happened. He'd even made a point of describing the driver to the best of his ability, even though he'd had a limited glance at him. And all the while, you'd been curled up on the couch with Bruce, eyes unfocused as you stared at the TV.
He'd taken you back over to the trailer with him too, never more than a couple of feet away from you at any time, as if you would disappear the second you were out of his reach. You watched awkwardly from the doorway as he shoved random items of clothing into his backpack, none of which would make a full outfit. And then you'd had to gently remind him that he would need his toothbrush and some other bathroom essentials.
By the time you'd made it back to your house, it was gone midnight and you were about ready to fall asleep standing up, but still, you were fighting back the exhaustion.
"I'll sleep on the couch," he told you softly. "And you can have Bruce up in your room," he added. "He'll keep you company because he's such a good boy, aren't you Bud?" he murmured, scratching between the dog's ears. "Yeah, you're going to keep Y/N safe, aren't you?" he added, watching as the dog's entire body shook from side to side with excitement.
"Is the couch big enough?"
Eddie glanced up at you from where he was crouched with the dog, giving you a half-assed shrug. "It'll be fine."
"Okay," you murmured, heading for the stairs with Bruce hot on your heels. "Good night."
"I'm right here if you need me, Sweetheart," he reminded you softly, slumping down on the couch and grabbing the blanket from the arm of the seat.
You'd only been in bed for 20 minutes, but you were already going out of your mind. Every noise you heard led you to the worst possible conclusion. The wind blowing a tree branch against the window was clearly the man from earlier trying to break in. The creaking pipes in the bathroom were definitely someone sneaking around in the hallway. The dog down the street barking at random intervals had almost certainly been spooked by someone moving around in the darkness outside the house.
It was like your brain was trying to sabotage you, and no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself that it wasn't real, you couldn't make yourself close your eyes and go to sleep, just in case.
You finally gave in at about 1 am, crawling out of bed and making your way as quietly as possible into the hallway. You'd made it halfway down the stairs before you'd hit a creaky step, causing Eddie to shoot up from the couch, watching you carefully.
"Y/N?" he murmured into the darkness, reaching over and switching on the lamp beside him. "Sweetheart, what are you doing up?"
"I can't sleep," you uttered, looking so frightened that Eddie's heart clenched in his chest. He'd never seen you look so scared before. Hell, you were the sort of person that was always laughing when you watched horror films. You weren't scared of anything. "Would you mind sleeping upstairs?" you added softly.
He nodded slightly. "Yeah," he agreed, not even bothering to put up a fight when you clearly weren't going to be able to sleep on your own. "I can come up," he told you, switching off the light and grabbing the blanket from the couch, trailing you back upstairs.
As soon as he walked into your room, he let out a snort of laughter. Bruce was still completely dead to the world, letting out gentle snores from his spot at the foot of your bed, blissfully unaware that you'd even moved.
"Told you he'd make a bad guard dog," he reminded you, watching you crawl into bed.
"He just needs a little training," you defended gently, scratching at the dog's head for a moment before settling back against the pillows. For the first time, you were smiling, albeit half-heartedly.
"Have you got a spare pillow?" Eddie hummed, stretching the blanket out across the floor.
Your brow furrowed slightly. "What are you doing?"
"You want me to sleep up here, right?"
"I meant up here," you explained, patting the spot beside you. "There's a pillow right here with your name on it," you added.
Eddie smiled softly at you, bundling the blanket back up and dropping it at the foot of your bed. "You sure?"
You shrugged. "I need my guard dog," you hummed out, offering him a small smile. A proper smile.
"I'm your guard dog now?" He smirked at you, his head tilted to the side.
You nodded, watching as he got into bed beside you. "Big bad guard dog won't let anything bad happen to me," you murmured, snuggling down under the covers.
He snorted with laughter as you tucked yourself into his side. "I'm a better guard dog than Bruce, that's for sure. He hasn't even realised you have a boy in your bed. I would've chased me out of here by now if I were him."
The soft chuckle that slipped out of you made Eddie's stomach fill with butterflies. Sure, he'd heard it a million times before, but now, with you cuddled up to him, it felt different. It felt more important. "Quit barking and go to sleep," you teased, letting your leg drape over his.
"Alright, Sweetheart. Sleep tight."
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