Chapter Forty-Two
Chrissy Cunningham

tw: self harm mentions

"I'm sorry- I know it's late, but I'm sorry-" Steve had her enveloped in a hug the minute the door opened, backing her into her house and closing the door behind him with his foot. "I know you hate my guts, and you don't wanna see me ever again, but I need you to know I'm sorry."

Her scent engulfed him immediately, the sound of some shitty movie from the 60s playing in the back. Steve had his fingers tangled in Ramona's hair, pressing her face into his chest. His other hand rubbed her back gently, fingers gripping the fabric of the shirt she wore. Only when he pulled away, which he hadn't yet, would he realize it was one of his. "Fuck, baby.. I'm sorry.. I-I was shitty to you, I said shitty things.. and I'll do anything- anything at all, to make it up to you.. One more chance? Please?"

"Steve.." Ramona pulled from the hug, looking up at him. His eyes were red and puffy, he'd clearly been crying. Maybe even for the two days they hadn't spoken, not even when she stopped in to see Robin at the video shop. It's not that she didn't want to, she was scared. She'd said things she regretted, and she was worried he had gone right back to hating her. Right back to square one, right back to 1984.

Her hand gently rested against his cheek, a ghost of a smile formed on her face as he immediately leaned into her touch. Her thumb brushed against his warm skin, eyes trailing along her features, over every freckle and blemish. "Steve.. we were never broken up.. there's no 'one more chance' to need."

Steve blinked in confusion, furrowing his brows as he searched her face. "Wh-? But- I said all those awful things to you."

"Steve, I forgive you." Ramona said plainly, a smile gracing her face (though it didn't reach her eyes), "You're okay. We are okay."

Her fingers trailed up from his cheek up into his hair and she pulled him down so he was looking her in the eyes. "But never, ever accuse me of using again. Copy that, Harrington?"

"I promise.. Never again. Do you want to talk about it?" Steve mumbled, almost inaudible. Ramona tensed, her breath catching in her throat. The question hung in the air and the silence became deafening. At he lack of response, Steve continued.
"You should, you know... talk about it."

Ramona shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was soft, his words trailing off. This was something he'd never dealt with before, and from Ramona... He felt so stupid for not noticing that something was wrong. He didn't know how to handle it, what to do, how to help. God, he was really starting to feel like he didn't know anything. "You don't have to. Not with me, if you don't want. I-I mean. I could help, I'm your boyfriend. I should help, but-"

"No, you should know." Ramona said, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. "It was an accident at first, really. A stupid accident. I was chopping up some vegetables for my mom, and- uh- the knife, I don't know, slipped? It slipped. And-and I was bleeding.. and."

Ramona's voice grew shaky as tears formed in her eyes. Steve stayed silent, watching the woman he loved begin to crumble in front of him. He'd rarely seen Ramona like this, and never had he seen her like this before Starcourt with the Russians.

He blamed himself, if he'd never convinced her to get a job in the mall she wouldn't have been there in the first place.

That was bullshit, though. Ramona would have still been there. She was the smartest girl he knew, along with Robin, he would've gone to her for help anyway. Or Dustin would have. There was no keeping her out of it.. and without it, there was no them. Without the Russians, Steve and Ramona would still be friends. Just friends. He never would have worked up the courage to say something, and Ramona would have still been denying her feelings.

Steve knew all of this, he did. But that didn't stop him from blaming himself. Ramona began to shake, and her arms snaked around herself as she sunk to the ground. Steve followed suit, pulling her close to him. He gently rocked her back and forth, struggling to keep his own emotions in check.

"And.." Ramona inhaled sharply, tearing her eyes away from him, feeling almost ashamed of how she was stammering over her words. "It reminded me of the Russians, and- and that stupid fucking lab. What they did to me. But-but Steve..."

"Ye-yeah?" His voice cracked, tears beginning to slip from his own eyes as he looked down at her.

"I liked it." She said plainly, "I liked it, Steve... bec-"

She hiccuped, quickly swiping the tears from her face and shaking her head. "Because I did it. I was in control this time."

Steve remained silent, pulling her tighter into his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, murmuring about how she'll be okay. That's when she broke, choked sobs ripping from her throat as she clutched as his shirt. She ignored the distant voices of Russian soldiers, believing it to be all in her head.

Steve tightened his hold on her, burying his face in her hair, struggling to hold in his own cries as Ramona let out everything that she had been holding in, allowing all of the emotions to wash freely over her.

~~

"Ramona!" Dustin's voice pulled her attention away from the movie and over to the door. The shout of her name was followed by him pounding on the door and holding down the doorbell. The perpetual ringing made her eye twitch as she stood and walked towards the door. "Ramona! Open. The. Hell. Up! I know you're in there! I hear Footloose playing."

"Dustin!" Max scolded, swatting at his hand. "Lay off the bell!"

"What?" Ramona's tone came off snappier than she had meant it to. "Sorry. I just have this killer headache, you're not helping it with the doorbell. So, lay off it next time. Got it?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm sorry." Dustin apologized, pushing past her and into the house. He took note of the tissues littering the ground. "Sad movie?"

"Nosebleed." Ramona answered, sheepishly picking up the tissues surrounding the couch. "It's weird. I've never had one of those before. Must be my allergies."

Dustin hummed, "Look, have you seen the news?"

"No, it's boring." Ramona answered plainly, tossing the tissues into the trashcan in the kitchen. Swearing under her breath as the lights flickered, she made her way back into the living room where Dustin and Max sat on her couch.

"Make yourselves at home, I guess." She muttered, taking a seat on the coffee table. "Well?"

"Well?" Dustin repeated. Ramona huffed, rolling her eyes.

"The news, Dustin. What about it?"

"Oh!" Dustin snapped, pointing to Max. "That's a Max question."

"Okay." Ramona said incredulously. "Max, what about the news?"

"It's not all on the news yet," Max started, "But Chrissy Cunningham is dead."

Time froze for a moment, the sentence lingering in the air like a bitter smell on a hot summer day. Ramona could barely choke up the words, "What?"

"She's dead." Max repeated, "I saw her. In Eddie's trailer."

"Eddie?!" Ramona repeated, her eyes bulging as she shook her head in disbelief. "No, wrong guy. 'sgot to be. Eddie's an angel. A freaky little angel. Don't tell Steve but he gives me a 'pretty girl' discount."

"That's what I said!" Dustin shouted, standing up. He cleared his throat, murmuring an apology when Ramona and Max both winced. "Discount for what?"

"Uh... Nothing?"

Dustin didn't look impressed, but he moved on, waving for Max to continue.

"She was in Eddie's trailer. I-uh, I didn't see much of her. But what I did? Horrible." Max rubbed her hands together. "I know it was Chrissy, it was the same outfit she wore at the pep rally-"

"Mike was asking why you weren't there." Dustin said, "I was wondering too."

"Dustin." Max warned. "Can I continue? Please?"

"Right. Of course. My bad. Go on."

"Eddie is about to be suspect number one. His trailer, he's gone, nowhere to be found. It doesn't look good, now I'm- I'm not saying that he did it. I-I don't even.. I don't think a person could do that to another person. All I'm saying is that this does not look good for Eddie."

"At this point, it doesn't look good for you." Dustin huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. "Tell her the rest."

"Okay, can you stop? I know I accused Eddie, but dude." Max rolled her eyes, "Ramona. You're smart, tell Dustin that this doesn't look good for Eddie. And- And before I saw him leave... my power went out, all the lights were flickering? I didn't think anything of it, my house is shitty and so is the power. Then I saw him leave. He looked scared. Really, really scared. Maybe, I don't know. I don't know. Ramona.. I don't know. Maybe he killed someone? Or-Or something else did? But the gate is closed. And- Well if it's not, we're fucked. El is in California-"

"Ugh..." Ramona groaned, massaging her fingers against her scalp. "Max. slow down. Like I said before, I've had this killer headache."

Max's shoulders dropped and she turned her head to look at Ramona, scolding herself for somehow missing it when Ramona had said it earlier. "You too?"

Ramona nodded, "Yeah, it started a few days ago. It's like no amount of-"

"Tylenol can stop it?" Max finished for her, Ramona nodded in response, muttering a yeah as her eyes .

"Look," Dustin started. "I'm glad you guys are bonding. But we have more, much more, important things a hand here. Like Max being wrong!"

"Oh my god!" Max groaned, "I never said he did it!"

"Who else have you talked to about this?" Ramona interrupted.

"Steve is next." Dustin answered quickly, "Robin, too."

~~

a/n: steve and ramona >>> also eddie and ramona's friendship is about to be so good guys