Zccming​:

Every now and then, on a day he didn't have to work, Cole found himself wandering aimlessly around the main attractions of Hawkins; like he was taking a tour of his hometown. Today, somehow, he ended up at the high school. He couldn't decide if it was self-sabotage or nice to remember, but everywhere he looked he could see him. Lost in thought, it took the girl's deep sigh to shake him out of the fog. "Damn. Should've known the school was that broke," he joked, trying to plant himself firmly in the here-and-now.

Cole walked closer, peering at the girl. They definitely went to high school together, but weren't really friends. "Ginny, right?"

WHO: ginny sprat & open.

WHERE: the hawkins high tennis courts. 

she sat on the picnic table, head bent as she re-wrapped her racket’s handle. sweat dripped down her forehead and stung her eyes, but she hardly stopped to wipe it away. glancing up at the person nearby, who’s repeated pushes of the button indicated a familiar frustration. 

“water fountain’s broken,” she sighed, “so don’t even bother.” 

The only thing worse than the residual pounding in Cole’s head is the haunting thought of what he’d seen in the cemetery. Or what he thought he’d seen. He had desperately tried to convince himself it wasn’t real-- but to no avail. How could it not be, when it was so tangible? If it was a mind trick, he should be institutionalized. But something felt... off, like so many other things in Hawkins did. So, Cole smoked until he finally passed out, and woke up to his alarm two hours later.

All day at work, he’d kept his headphones around his neck, playing music loud enough to distract from thinking about what had happened. Maybe it was immature, but he didn’t know how to deal with it so he just avoided it. That is, until Cassie walked through his door. He knew from her expression what she wanted to talk about, and he dutifully paused the music. Dragging his fingers through his unruly curls, Cole shrugged. “Not feeling my best, to be honest. I didn’t sleep much,” he admitted. “What about you?” He vaguely remembered her being at the cemetery, but the more time passed, the less clear the memories became.

WHO: cassie & @colemontgomeryx​ WHERE: the music store

To say that Cassie didn’t sleep well the night after being at the cemetery was an understatement. She was up the entirety of the night, replaying the same scene in her head until she finally began to count sheep instead. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being lifted up in the air and the sound of her bones cracking, followed by the voice … the one that was telling her it would all be over soon. The most peculiar part was that she wasn’t herself, she was the cheerleader, whoever she was. Though she could’ve sworn that Lucas had mentioned her name when Cassie told the story, the details of the night before were so hazy that she couldn’t remember. Had they really drank that much?

Nancy had warned her about this, and she didn’t want to tell her first thing in the morning what had happened. Instead, she thought to see someone who had been there in the cemetery with her, someone who might have answers to the running list of questions that had been growing in her head since she left the graveyard. Cassie found herself at the music store, remembering from their first meeting that Cole worked there. She greeted him with a pained smile, approaching the counter. “Is it me, or was something weird in that beer last night, because I feel like I’m having the worst blackout of my life. But you … you hit your head, right? I just wanted to see how you were feeling.”

@zccming

“I sorta spent the last few days hangin’ out with Elliot.”

zccming​:

.

“you take a hit like a dude.” max countered, feeling a momentary wave of relief as he returned the hug. his arm was warm, and heavy, and very much alive. he was alive. she pulled back, wincing herself when he pressed the ice pack against his torso. no way that felt good, but again, at least cole was there and breathing. max couldn’t be too upset with that outcome. she was sure it would hit her later, but she’d already shed a few silent tears in front of cole, she didn’t want to shed anymore. 

at his next comment, max’s brows rose as she looked at adam beside him, “what? you’re telling me you didn’t know he was here?” she rolled her eyes, relishing in the fact that this almost felt normal as she teased, “you’re fine. big baby. at least pretend you’re grateful i stole an ambulance for you.” she moved from the floor to a chair while cole reached for his water. she pulled her legs up into the chair with her and when cole asked if she was hurt, she flashed him her nasty looking hands. it hadn’t been related to the explosion, but it was an unavoidable truth. she had gotten hurt, a little. “i’m thinking about getting some boxing tape, i’ll look real tough.” max said dryly, then dropping her hands. cole’s next question left max mute. she shrugged, wanting to melt into the chair, “i didn’t see it all go down.” she admitted, “but, dustin said something about a bomb? and explosive fireworks? unbelievable.” sighing, she felt like she had to ask, “does that ring a bell to you?”

xx.

“It’s all those years of football,” Cole flexed the arm closes to her, pathetically. “I was a varsity athlete, you know... Technically,” he added before she could correct him. He took another sip of water, his throat burning at how much talking he was doing all of the sudden. But Cole didn’t care; he craved this sense of normalcy, even if it was just a distraction. He figured they were both owed that. Following her gaze to Adam asleep in the chair next to his bed, Cole’s expression softened. “Well, you were the one sobbing over me. Hard to notice anything else,” he joked. 

Cole choked out a laugh, “You stole an ambulance? Christ, Max. You’re compiling quite the record.” Concern flooded his face at the sight of her hands. “Max,” his tone was intentionally stern. “You need to get them looked at.” He motioned to the button by his bed, “We can call for a nurse. Then you can have your boxing tape.” The apprehension on Cole’s face only grew at Max’s mention of a bomb and fireworks. Admittedly, he didn’t remember much after the Tunnel of Love. He was preoccupied thinking Adam was going to die again; if he thought hard enough about it, he was sure he remembered Steve and Dustin arguing over something, mentioning ‘bomb’. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Kind of...,” then he dropped his voice, not wanting Adam to hear his next words. “He was acting weird. Like before. He was fighting with me... physically. Telling me to leave him alone,” he confessed, hoping Max knew what it meant. Hoping more than anything that it was an easy fix, though the heaviness in his gut told him he knew better. 

goldenboyrichards​:

After getting off of the Tunnel of Love, Adam couldn’t remember a single thing until he woke up surrounded by ash and smoke. Hours of his life were just missing, gone completely as if he’d fallen asleep and woken up. Adam had been popular in high school - he wasn’t unknown at parties. But even back then, he had never truly gotten so drunk that he blacked out. Whatever had happened to him at the carnival was something else entirely, something much more confusing. 

But when he’d come to? All Adam had seen was carnage. People injured, people dead, and Cole being loaded into a fucking ambulance. Adam had been too dazed to follow; he needed a minute to breath and figure out what had even happened. Because he just didn’t know - but there were several people glaring at him like he was responsible for this. Not solely, the others from the forest commune had helped, it seemed. But…. what had they done? And why?

Once he had fully come back into his own body, he remembered the nightmare he’d had. Or maybe it was a memory? But… but Adam would never hurt Cole. Even nightmare Adam hadn’t wanted to. But the thought of shoving him, pinning him against a wall and telling him to ‘fucking leave me alone already’ made Adam’s chest ache. 

As he caught a ride with someone to the hospital, he couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Just the thought that there was maybe a chance that he’d actually done that made Adam feel like he was going to throw up. 

Adam had waited while Cole lay on a bed, resting after breaking his rib. He couldn’t imagine that he was comfortable - that it didn’t hurt him. Adam would do anything in the world to take the pain from him, add it to his body instead of Cole’s. But there was nothing he could do but watch as his chest rose and fell, steady with the beeping of the heart monitor he was hooked up to. 

When Cole finally came to and asked about the lights, Adam leapt up immediately, reaching over to flick one set of fluorescents off. He thought about turning both off, but… well, what if Cole didn’t want to be in the dark? What if he was scared of Adam? His worst fear was seemingly confirmed when Cole stared at him, studying Adam’s eyes. 

Arms wrapping around him to hold himself together, Adam met his gaze sheepishly. Not because he wanted to, but because Cole deserved to see that it was him standing in front of him.  “Hey,” He replied, feeling far too casual given every fucking thing the two of them had been through. He kept his distance, standing by the light switch near the doorway. “Are you…. is it okay that I’m here?” Adam asked quietly, looking down at the floor. “I was worried about you. I don’t… I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything.” 

xx.

The rush of tears made Cole feel lightheaded and, despite his frantic blinking, they spilled down his cheeks. It was him. Adam was okay. He knew it was his him when he heard the layers of guilt in his voice, when his boyfriend angled his head to the floor. Cole hated seeing him like this, maybe just as much as he hated seeing out-of-body Adam. “Sweetheart,” Cole cooed, attempting to make his brittle voice sound comforting.

“Of course... Of course I want you here. Will you come sit by me?” he asked gently, though internally he felt like he was twelve years old, begging his mother not to leave him at bedtime. He was afraid of what happened, of course. But more than he was afraid for his own safety, he was terrified of what all of this meant for Adam. A pang of guilt swirled amidst the fear; Cole should’ve told Adam everything he knew, right away.

As Adam sat next to him, still cautious, afraid of something, Cole reached out his arm, offered his hand. “I’m okay,” he promised. “I’ll be fine. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” He searched Adam’s body for any sign of injury and met his eyes. Cole desperately wished that this was all they had to talk about, that Adam could climb into bed with him and things could be simple. But he knew better, and he wouldn’t leave Adam in the dark, not again.

Painfully, Cole twisted and picked up his water, needing some relief for his throat before he dared dive into this. “You don’t remember anything?” he asked, eyes lingering on the crease in Adam’s brow. He desperately wanted to shield Adam from this, to never tell him what horrible things had been done and said through his body.

Cole was crying again, in anticipation for how much this was going to hurt Adam. Adam, who couldn’t fathom hurting another person or letting someone down. Adam, who was always so good, who happily took on the burden of being the strong one, the shoulder to cry on. Adam, who deserved better than all of this. Cole bit down on his trembling lower lip, willing himself to keep it together, if only for Adam’s sake.

“Before you died,” he began cautiously, knowing that even saying that much was still shocking, “You were different. It wasn’t you. I didn’t know until later, but you were... possessed, I guess. By this thing they call the Mindflayer. It made you act different and then... it killed you. Or, it died and you died with it.” The whole thing still hurt his head, honestly, and there weren’t nearly enough answers. “I don’t know how or who or why but... you came back. And I think it’s happening again... it controlling you. I thought you were going to die again,” he choked back another influx of tears, remembering that horrifying moment at the carnival.

Cole had immediately recognized the similarities between Adam at the carnival and Adam the last day he saw him-- the stiffness of his body, the coldness of his tone, the cruelty of his words. He hoped Adam never found out about that moment. Swiping at his cheek with the back of his hand, Cole met Adam’s eyes again and tried for an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I don’t have more answers. But we’ll figure it out. Together, like you said.” He lifted Adam’s hand to his lips, ignoring the shooting pain from his ribcage. “I promise, love, we’ll figure it out.” He didn’t know what figuring it out meant, not even remotely, but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere until they did.

eddiemcnson​:

+++

droplets of nervous sweat starting to appear above his brow, eddie’s eyes darted down to where cole pulled out that blasted bandana before he took both the cigarette and lighter from him. he clicked it a couple of times, no light appeared, eddie nervously glanced back up at cole, down at the lighter. violently shook it around for a moment, another attempt - it thankfully lit this time and he handed it back to cole.

he was a bundle of nerves. the previous pleasant buzz from the alcohol had almost entirely disappeared, he flicked  the cigarette’s filter repeatedly, fidgeted with his rings on his other hand. as if he was almost….waiting for cole to ridicule him. instead, however, he said something completely unexpected and eddie chocked on his own breath, sputtering cough.

he looked up to lock eyes with him. i am, too. the fuck did he mean? and ‘too’? was this some sort of trap? or was he literally genuinely saying what…eddie thought…he was saying? hadn’t he not gotten any of his surely widely popularly used phrases moments ago? he quirked a brow, took a drag once his coughing had subised. “you are….what?”, eyes narrowed, voice low in case this was, indeed, a trap.

adam richards was mentioned and, oh, jeez, it all made sense. eddie almost instantly felt bad, a guilty nauseau creeping up on him. way to go, munson, way to go. “your best friend, wasn’t he?” brows pulled together, lips twisted into a sympathetic smile. of course, max hadn’t been the only one who’d lost someone on the very ground they were standing on. “listen, man, i’m so…sorry - like, that’s gotta be rough, like, being here and everything. sorry. i can go and  leave you alone if you want to.”

xx. 

Cole didn’t waver under Eddie’s gaze. If he was correct, Eddie’s behavior made sense. Cole felt it too, the fear of being found out by someone who wasn’t safe. It was the reason Cole and Adam snuck around for the three years they were together-- to avoid the football jocks and the band geeks and the teachers berating them and calling them names. Only it never stopped there; it often got physical, violent. Of course Eddie was afraid.

It was like they were playing chicken, like they were standing in front of a train for as long as possible and pulling back at the last second-- exhilarating, maybe, but not satisfying. Something about being in the mall, all his thoughts about Adam... it was the perfect concoction for a confession. “I like guys,” he said, meeting Eddie’s eyes again. “Adam was my boyfriend.”

And then: relief. Cole felt like he’d recovered part of himself, like he’d regained a phantom limb. He hadn’t been able to talk about his feelings this openly since, well, Adam. It was refreshing, rejuvenating even. “If you want, I’ll prove it,” he teased, giving Eddie a once-over. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so open about it, but what’s the worst that could happen?

jackforeman​:

It pained Jack to see Cole seem so on edge when he’d sat down beside the bed. Not that he could blame him, though, for what he’d apparently done at the carnival that he couldn’t even remember. He knew that Adam had been acting the same way, or so Jo had told him, and if he had explained to Cole that he had no idea what had happened, then maybe he would believe Jack, too. “I’m so sorry, seriously, if I–had anything to do with you feeling like shit.” He gave a pained smile; even if he hadn’t directly hurt Cole, he was somehow a part of setting up the fireworks that had led to this disaster. That much was made clear to him.

Jack gave a shrug, since it was really the only response he had. “I don’t know, I mean, I’m not injured or anything, which is kind of weird.” He thought about hearing that he’d fought Steve, who wasn’t by any means a weak person; he must have defended himself to some capacity. “I don’t remember any of it, either, which is … did Adam say that, too? I haven’t seen him since then.” Not when all Jack could think was that Adam might have been the one who killed him. 

xx.

At Jack’s second apology, Cole started to feel guilty, too. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t mad at Jack. Clearly what happened wasn’t in his control as much as it wasn’t in Adam’s control. So Cole motioned at the chair next to his bed that Adam had been occupying earlier in an invitation for Jack to sit. “It’s not your fault, man. Nothing I didn’t get in middle school, either,” he attempted a joke, then cringed as it came out more pathetic-sounding than he anticipated. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

That was weird-- Cole remembered Jack shoving him and Steve around, and Steve had definitely fought back. “I guess Harrington lost his touch,” he murmured, still mulling over how Jack had escaped unscathed. He bit his bottom lip, glancing up to the door as if Adam would walk in at any second. Then, refocusing on Jack, he sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, he doesn’t remember anything, except--” Cole frowned, stopped short. “Except, we got in this big fight before he... left. He was acting like he did at the carnival. And he didn’t remember it until now.”  He shook his head; none of this made any sense. “You didn’t suddenly recover any memories, right?” he asked, another feeble attempt at a joke.

joycefm​:

    “cole!!”  a  smile  rests  on  her  face  as  she  greets  the  other,  hiding  anything  that  resembled  surprise.  she  definitely  hadn’t  been  expecting  the  other  but  there  had  always  been  something  about  cole  that  felt  so  familiar.  maybe  because  they  simply  fit  into  hawkins  so  well  -  or  because  he  simply  got  along  with  her  boys  so  well..  she  wasn’t  exactly  sure.  but  she  extended  her  kindness  to  everyone  across  town  unless  they  gave  her  reason  not  to.  

    brows  raise  at  his  words  but  yet  she  doesn’t  hesitate  to  open  her  door  further,  welcoming  him  in.  “i  have  all  the  time  in  the  world  -  i  bought  some  fresh  fruit  so  come  on  in.”  she’s  already  moving  to  grab  the  other  a  bowl,  placing  it  on  the  kitchen  table  and  moving  immediately  to  the  refrigerator  to  grab  some  grapes.  "talk  to  me  -  what’s  on  your  mind?”

If Joyce was surprised, she certainly didn’t show it, which put Cole at ease. He supposed she was relatively used to all the youth of Hawkins showing up unannounced, but for Cole this was a first. Following Joyce to the kitchen, Cole tapped his fingers nervously on his legs. He smiled at her as she handed him a bowl and plopped grapes into it. “Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he said, though he bit down on a grape.

What’s on your mind? 

A lot, actually, but in the moment Cole was focused on his timing. Was this the right time? Was there ever a right time to say what he was going to say? He decided to just be honest. Five years late, maybe, but nonetheless. “I don’t really have like... a tactful way to say this?” Cole explained, with an apologetic smile. “Lonnie Byers was my dad. Or, is. But we don’t talk or anything. I’ve never met him.” Realizing that his sentences were running into each other, Cole took a breath, popped another grape into his mouth. “Um. My mom... Maggie, you might know her from school... she told me a few years back and I just didn’t know if I wanted to say anything? I don’t want to complicate your life, or Will’s or Jonathan’s, but...” He didn’t know how exactly to express what he’d been feeling for his whole life: the desire for a family, to come home to a house teeming with life, to not be so... alone in the world. 

Timothee Chalamet by Mark Williams and Sara Hirakawa, 2017

jackforeman​:

Weird. That was one way to describe it, anyway. Jack didn’t know what to think of any of it besides that it was weird: weird that he woke up and walked out of the Hawkins forest one morning, weird that he even went in the first place. But, Jo had shown him the newspaper articles and everything–it had to be true, even if he didn’t want to believe it. Maybe talking to Adam again, getting some clarity, wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“I’m glad to be back, too,” he agreed, matching Cole’s smile. “Yeah, they’re … you know, shocked, but good. My mom is saying I’m never allowed to leave Hawkins again, so I guess community college it is,” he joked, as if it were the only light he could make out of the situation. “My sister, Jo, she was pretty freaked out, but that’s probably because she didn’t expect to see a man in her basement when she came home from work. So, you’ve … talked to Adam, then? How is he?”

xx.

Cole genuinely chuckled at Jack’s answer. He remembered the first day he and Adam had left the Richards house, the fear in his mom’s eyes when Adam had told her he was going out for a bit. Cole couldn’t blame her, but Cole also would rather spend time with Adam alone than with his whole family. At least for a while, an attempt to make up for lost time. “That sounds like Mrs. Richards,” he admitted with a smile. “I can’t imagine what it feels like for them-- the moms.”

Raising a singular eyebrow, Cole nodded. He wondered if that was why Jo was freaked out, or if she might have the same questions Cole had. “That’s... understandable,” he said. Even he still hadn’t adjusted to Adam’s return, a return he never could have predicted. “Yeah! Yeah, we’ve been hanging out. He’s okay... he feels shitty for leaving his family behind, and all. I keep trying to tell him it isn’t his fault, you know, but...” Cole shrugged. That’s just who Adam was, always the one who wanted to help, who his family relied on. If only it was as easy as saying ‘it’s not your fault.’ “Have you? Talked to him?”