As it turns out, driving while having a panic attack is harder than it sounds.

Eddie's knuckles ache from how tightly he grasps the steering wheel, his breaths coming out in desperate pants until he finally secedes and pulls over halfway back home. Teary vision and dark, unlit streets don't mix well.

He used to do this all the time. The moment he'd bought his beat up van, Wayne helping him fix it up until it was something driveable for the boy, he'd always utilized it as a safe space. He kept blankets and a secret stash in the very back, he'd had a separate collection of cassettes just for the van, he made mixtapes that he'd kept under the passenger seat for nights when his feelings got too big and he needed to drive around until the panic in his chest could subside. Many of those drives included pushing through the sobs, still gunning it for the edge of town with blurry vision. It was a wonder he had never crashed. It was dangerous. Terribly, terribly dangerous.

He didn't care about danger before he met Willow.

Before, if he had crashed his van and ended up dead in a ditch, he figured his list of people that cared for him was short enough that it wouldn't cause much of a ripple in the Universe. He had friends. Hellfire worshiped him, but they could find a new Dungeon Master. He had Corroded Coffin, but again, that overlapped with Hellfire and he figured himself to be highly replaceable. Guitar wasn't a rare instrument. They'd find another tough guy who knew his way around the instrument and shared similar musical taste with the rest of the band. There was Wayne, and that was the only person he really worried about. But sometimes, on the especially bad nights, he wondered if he'd be doing his uncle a favor by getting out of his hair. Wayne would have his bedroom back, sleeping on a mattress rather than a couch or cot. He'd never have to drive to the local police station in the middle of one of his rare nights off. He'd never have to give another lecture to the boy about graduating.

When it got especially bad, he figured the danger was suitable, because if he were to turn the wheel in the slightest wrong direction, the space his absence left behind would be easily filled. The mourning would come and go, and Eddie would be just another gravestone.

And then Willow came along. And she cared, she cared so damn much. She'd cursed him a hundred times to drive safer. In the beginning of their friendship, she'd used other people's wellbeing as the excuse for her worry. But recently, he'd caught her referencing his own wellbeing, and it made him finally attempt to rectify his lead foot.

"Edward Theodore Munson," she had scolded the moment she sat in his passenger seat one morning, him running late to pick her up for school. She had been waiting outside for him and witnessed his erratic speeding before he screeched to a halt in front of her house.

"Uh oh," he teased with a grin, "Full government name. I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Why do you drive like you're trying to get yourself killed?" she ignored his joking tone, dead serious as she crossed her arms and glared at him.

He laughed nervously under her gaze, "What do you mean?"

"The way you drive!" she exclaimed. He'd been expecting a lecture when she got in his van, but not on the topic of his driving. He'd figured she'd be yelling at him about being late, "Do you even realize how many car crashes happen each year?"

"A shit ton."

"Yes, exactly. And do you know how many are fatal ?" He didn't answer her. He didn't know the answer to that question - he'd never thought about that question, "Nearly 3,500."

"3,500?" he'd repeated her, in shock she actually knew the number.

"Give or take," her gaze was still hard on him. Their tardiness was momentarily forgotten.

He had no idea how to respond. He felt like an idiot, sitting there and staring back at her until she had finally turned to look out his windshield.

Plenty of people had scolded him for his driving in the past, but it never really phased him. Wayne had even gone as far as threatening to revoke his van privileges. Chief Hopper had even threatened to revoke his license privileges. Neither ever went through with their threats, though. And to be fair, ever since the solemn event of the mall fire that had shaken the town over the summer, Eddie had one less person on his back about it.

Until now. Now, he had the fiery redhead beside him that had nestled herself into his life comfortably. The ramifications of allowing that to happen had never hit him harder than in that moment.

Her brother, Parker. Their car crash. And although when she'd told him what happened, it'd been clear to him that the drugs had killed her brother and not the car crash, it was clear that it was still a sensitive topic.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, dropping his playful mood entirely, still not shifting his van out of park, "I'll be more careful. I swear."

"You better," she grumbled, still not looking at him but her tone grew softer, "I'd like to keep you around for a bit longer, Munson."

Ever since Willow had entered his life, Eddie's late night drives had come to a halt. He'd already been working on driving more carefully when she was in the car with him, but after that day, he started practicing even when she was absent.

No more blowing through stop signs. No more speeding up at yellow lights. No more taking curves sharply. And no more driving when he was breaking down.

Until tonight. But even then, when the sobs had become too much for him, he'd pulled over. He never would have done that before her.

" Fuck !" he gasps loudly to no one in particular. It was just him and his thoughts, alone in the van.

I shouldn't have told her.

It's all he can think, miserable as he goes over the moment repeatedly in his head, stuck somewhere between regret and relief.

Relief that he had finally said it out loud. Regret that she knew. She knew, and she still hadn't been able to stop him.

He hadn't really let her speak, to be fair. But his mind wouldn't let him ponder on what she could have said to make the situation better. Honestly, if she was going to try and let him down easy like he had assumed she was, it would have just made it worse.

He sits with his anguish, loud and unbearable in the dark of his van at the end of Oakwood lane. Seconds pass, minutes pass, hours pass - Eddie doesn't make any moves to shift his van back into drive, to continue to navigate the night until he's back safely to his trailer. He succumbs to his sobs, he relives the worst moments of the night, and most of all, he misses her. He just left her behind, he's barely called off the deal, and he misses her. It doesn't feel like it's been under an hour since he saw her devastated face, flinching with every word he said. It feels like it's been a lifetime.

But the lifetime of Eddie without Willow has just only begun. And now, he was going to live with missing her, because that's all he had left.

—

Monday morning, he takes a wrong turn on the way to school. He turns on her street.

It leads to a breakdown so visceral that he ends up ditching the first half of the day; he tells himself it's not because of her, but because this was his normal. This is his normal. He has to remember that he is to return to who he was before her. That what became normal over the last several months isn't.

He can sleep in again. He can leave the trailer fifteen minutes before the tardy bell for homeroom again. He can smoke in his van to his heart's content, going to class high as a kite, again. He can give his full attention to his friends and he can go back to not caring about the whispers about him in the hallways.

Or at least, he can try.

But his ears had grown used to zeroing in on the conversations in passing. His mind was now trained to tune into it all, especially when he heard Willow's name.

"Heard that his slut left him," a jock sneers while he's rustling through his locker, "Finally came to her senses. Maybe he tried to sacrifice her on Halloween."

He wants to turn around and punch the asshole. He wants to snap at him to not call her that, to keep her name out of his mouth in general. But he can't. Ex-boyfriends don't defend their ex-girlfriends like that. It's not his place anymore.

It's the mantra he has to repeat to cling to his sanity the rest of the week - a week spent in a complete haze. He's always high, he's always distracted, he's always thinking of her. He doesn't attend any of their classes together, and he doesn't see her in the cafeteria during lunch. He also notices that Robin's missing from the bustling room; another friend lost in the aftermath.

Robin was always going to take Willow's side. It was fine.

With how the week goes, Willow Jenkins could have been a figment of Eddie's imagination. He doesn't hear her name, only the whispers calling her crude names, and no one talks to him about what has happened. The Hellfire boys know better, they can see the bomb detonated in their leader's chest. And no one is really sure how they could deal with the aftermath if they brought her up.

No one knew if Eddie Munson would break down in tears, crumpling before their eyes. No one knew if Eddie Munson would scream until his lungs burst, throat raw. No one knew if Eddie Munson would simply shut down, even more so than he already had.

No one knew how he would react. So a silent agreement had taken place that they would leave it be, and let the boy settle his feelings on his own.

Willow wouldn't have. She wouldn't have rested until she knew what was wrong.

It was an unfair thought on Eddie's part, but everywhere he looked in his life, he saw reminders and he saw comparisons. When he struggled with math homework, he wanted her to be sitting across from him so she could reassure him that he had it, he just needed to be patient with himself. When he was strumming aimlessly on his guitar during lonely afternoons, he wanted her to be spread out on his bed, questioning him endlessly on his music knowledge. When he was silent during Hellfire's loud conversations, he wanted her to be sitting by his side and calm his anxieties with a touch of her palm resting on his knee.

But she couldn't calm his anxieties when she was the starring one.

On Friday, Dustin had enough of the sulking. He had been the only one there that night besides Mike, and Mike Wheeler was never going to find the guts to confront Eddie about his behavior.

"So, Eddie," he started off, nervously chuckling when the conversation between the other boys died off enough that he saw an opportunity, "You gonna give us any hints about the campaign tonight?"

Eddie didn't even look up at him.

"Yeah, man!" Gareth catches on, looking at the freshman and immediately jumping to his aid, "You haven't talked about this next campaign at all. What's up with that?"

"It's canceled," Eddie responds dejectedly. He still won't even spare a glance to his friends.

They're all stunned into silence.

"What?" Jeff speaks up, looking around at the group. Eddie had already canceled their gig at the Hideout earlier this week, and his bandmates had bit their tongues. But Hellfire? "What do you mean, it's canceled ?"

"I mean it's canceled," Eddie snaps, finally looking up. His eyes were voids, not a single emotion swimming in them, "It's not happening. I'm calling it off tonight. Deal with it."

"You can't-" Mike begins, but then Eddie turns to look at him, interrupting harshly.

"Actually, I can , Wheeler. I'm the dungeon master. But feel free to run your own campaign if you've got a fucking problem with it."

He's being harsh - terribly, terribly harsh - and he can't even feel bad about it. He was never so blunt or mean, even before her.

"Alright," Gareth interjects, looking scornful from Eddie's tone towards Mike, "What the hell is up with you, man? What's your fuckin' problem?"

"What's my fucking problem?" Eddie laughs humorlessly, "Nothing. My fucking problem is absolutely nothing ."

Gareth narrows his eyes, "It's Red, isn't it?"

Time slows to a full stop for the Hellfire table, even as the student body around them continues to enjoy their lunch.

"Don't say her name," Eddie says quietly. The quiet before a storm. If looks could kill, Gareth Emerson's funeral would be tomorrow.

"That's not even her name, though!" he isn't deterred by the glare, continuing on with waving arms, "Her name's Willow , and we told you to not fuck it up, and you clearly did -"

"I didn't fuck it up!" Eddie shouts suddenly. It gains the attention of a few students nearby.

"Then what happened?" Gareth asks, slapping his palms on the table, fed up with Eddie's pity party, "Because one day, she was here. Hell, she was our friend , not even just your fuckin' girlfriend, and now? Poof . She's gone. I haven't even seen her in the fucking hallways-"

"She's not been coming to school?" Eddie interrupts.

Gareth ignores him, "All you've been doing is fucking moping. If you didn't fuck it up, if you two are still together, what the fuck is your problem?"

Even in Gareth's anger, he is giving Eddie an option right now. He can either come clean and admit to his friends what's happened, or he can continue to sulk.

Almost every single member of Hellfire finds themselves on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear Eddie's answer.

Every single member except Dustin and Mike.

They knew what happened, to some extent. When Eddie had driven off into the night, they had been there to witness the aftermath of Willow. Something even Eddie had been oblivious to.

"We aren't together," he finally whispers, eyes hard as he meets the stares of Gareth, Jeff, and Craig. When his eyes finally cross the table to look at the two youngest members, the ones who are completely avoiding his gaze, he knows that they know, "I broke up with her."

Did they know the truth?

Eddie wonders for a moment whether Willow had told anyone about their lies after he left. No, something in his gut knew that she hadn't indulged anyone in the details of their fake-dating scheme. He had figured she wouldn't, given the fact it would destroy the prize she had finally gotten her hands on.

He pictures her kissing Steve again, sitting at the poolside with his jacket draped over her shoulders.

He's going to be sick.

"Fuck this," he mutters, slamming himself up out of his chair. It makes everyone jump, staring at him wordlessly.

They don't know what to do as he storms off, out of the cafeteria and into the outside air, brisk yet not soothing against his warm flesh.

He really might be sick.

Instead of finding a reasonable place to spill his guts, Eddie slams his back into the brick wall of the school behind him, pinching his eyes shut and breaths racing from him, unable to find his composure.

He wishes he had never seen them together. He wishes she would have called the deal off before she made her choice. He wishes he could erase his memory of Willow and Steve.

Actually, he wishes he could erase his memory of Willow. Just Willow.

Of Willow and her soft smiles, her infectious laughter, her fingers threaded in his hair. He wishes he had never known the taste of her lips or the way his name sounded when she was gasping it from beneath him. He wants to scrub himself clean of the stain left behind. It's awful and aching, it's a burning red to match her hair, and it's the kind of mark that will never fade with time. It only took her four months to leave this permanent mark, and he was going to have to spend the rest of his life trying to clean himself of it without fruition.

"Eddie? Are you okay?"

Dustin.

"What do you want, Henderson?" He tries to phrase it as a demand, but the words come out as gasps. If he opens his eyes, he's going to cry.

"I... I'm sorry for following you. I just-" the boy cuts off, clearly not knowing what words to say in this situation.

What the fuck do you say to someone who's having a panic attack after angrily announcing they broke up with the girl they're in love with?

"You just what? Needed to come and rub salt in the wound? Needed to come remind me that I fucked up?" Eddie's venom wasn't towards Dustin, but he was the only one here to receive it currently, "She's with Steve now, isn't she? After I left, she ran into his arms, didn't she?"

He didn't mean to ask that out loud, but he was aware that Dustin had been there. Maybe if the boy could just confirm Eddie's worst fears, it would make all this easier. Assure him it was the right choice. That leaving her was the right choice.

"What?" Dustin stands in front of Eddie now, whose eyes are still tightly screwed shut and chest is still heaving, "Dude, Eddie, no."

"Don't bullshit me, man," he sighs out, pressing his lips together tightly before he finally opens his eyes. For a second, as he looks to Dustin, he feels guilty for the harsh tone he'd taken with him.

Dustin isn't the one he's angry at. But neither is Willow.

The only person he's really angry with is himself.

"I'm not!" Dustin's eyes go impossibly wide, "Look, I don't know what happened that night between you two, but she's not with Steve. She... Okay, the first night, yeah. But he was comforting her, man. You should have seen her-"

Eddie pushes off the wall. Again, the guilt washes over him, but he isn't in the mood to hear about how Steve Harrington played the hero after he 'broke' her heart.

Because it was fake. That was the plan all along.

"Eddie!" Dustin calls out, trailing after the boy as he begins to walk away, furiously blinking back any emotion, "Eddie, wait u-"

Dustin is cut off sharply, a small 'oof' falling from his lips. Eddie doesn't turn to see what made the boy stop mid sentence until he hears it - the last voice he was in the mood to hear right now, and especially directed at one of his sheeps.

" Eddie, Eddie, Eddie !" Jason Carver's voice mocks, pitched higher than what Dustin's was. Eddie hears the chuckles of the fellow jocks before he turns to see them, one of them gripping the back of Dustin's backpack.

The straps were pressing into his chest, the clear reason for his sentence being cut-off.

"Man, it's pathetic - the way you Satanists worship this freak," Jason continues to do the talking as his guard dogs are the ones surrounding Dustin intimidatingly.

"Let him go," Eddie immediately demands, retracing his steps quickly.

It only makes all of the jocks laugh more, Jason narrowing his gaze on Eddie.

"Or what ? Don't see your slut around here to defend you."

Eddie had finally had it, ready to curse Jason out, defending both Dustin and Willow's honor.

To Hell with it not being my place.