Yeah, no shit. [ eddie hadn't really been convinced in the end of it and with his experience with hawkins pd, well, there was no fucking way that they'd be remotely generous.

he listens to the explanation of this world and nods, feeling like what little blood he has in him drain from his face. he holds his breath, forgets after a moment to keep breathing and then doesn't realize that he goes unnaturally still as he takes that in. ] Okay, so I'm not supposed to be here and we all get superpowers? [ is that what he feels? it doesn't exactly feel fucking super as much as really fucking fucked up. he rubs a hand down his face, braces himself for it to get worse.

the joint is a welcome thing. he takes a hit as soon as it's back in his possession and that soothes the trembling that's kicked in in the hand that's holding the beer. a goddamn week later and he looks, well, fucked. the version of himself in front of him has a scar running up his neck from under the hoodie he's wearing. ] Four victims and Chrissy's the first.. [ he guesses, wonders if he's on that list because that would be fucking poetic justice in the cruelest of ways.

he takes another hit, looks up at the ceiling. holds it for a silent beat, exhales and looks back just in time to see the way he's being watched. he doesn't want to know but then, then there's chance that if some of this sticks maybe he'll be able to do more than fucking tuck tail and run from it all. maybe, maybe, maybe something in his goddamn life can go his way and not end up a fucking mishmash of tragedy. ] I don't think there's a fucking version of the universe that doesn't, man. So hit me with it and maybe our luck will turn around for once.

[ but he doubts that. ] Then we can get really high.