Boltedfruit Archive

It’s Friday night in Chicago. They’re full of good Thai food and more than a little drunk as they manage their way down fifth. It’s got all these cute little bars and restaurants that are little more than closed off food trucks.

Steve is pulling on his arm, so Eddie goes. He always goes.

“Here, here. This is the place Robin was telling me about,” he’s saying as Eddie has a hundred different strung beads hit him in the face.

Past the door, he finds himself in a musky, incense-smelling little shop absolutely plastered with all things tacky and niche. There’s a wall dedicated entirely to crystals, and another to shrines. There’s the usual, but then Eddie spies a picture of Clint Eastwood that someone printed out and hung over a vast array of candles.

Eddie lifts his finger. He whispers, “What’s with the…?”

Steve shakes his head, smiling in a boyish, drunk way. “Shush. Quiet. She’ll get pissed and won’t take us.”

“Ooh, take us where, big boy?” Eddie smirks, relishing the blush spreading across Steve’s face.

But Steve just leans in and noses at his cheek. They get lost like that for a while.

They jump when the beaded entry across the room parts to reveal a woman dressed in intricate robes and heavy eyeliner.

She’s already pissed as far as Eddie can tell.

She approaches the counter, never taking her eyes away from them.

“You are Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson, yes?”

Eddie grips Steve’s elbow. But Steve is laughing happily.

“Yeah! Robin said you’d do that.”

Her eyes travel between them before sliding down. “It’s a hundred for fortune.”

Eddie hums, taking a second look around her shop. Gaudy, thrifted things stuffed in every spare space.

“Pretty penny for a light show.”

She’s giving him an unimpressed look while Steve waves a hand dismissively at him.

“Don’t pay him any mind, he’s— we’re a little tipsy tonight.”

Steve pulls out his wallet and fumbles a hundred dollar bill out and onto the counter like it’s no big deal. Eddie feels the familiar pinch of guilt for not paying, but he knows Steve truly doesn’t mind.

It’s both annoying and nice, to be spoiled sometimes.

Though he isn’t sure he’d have chosen this place to be spoiled with, really.

The woman takes the bill and shoves it in a register hidden behind the counter. Only then does she give them a wide smile, attitude doing a total one-eighty.

“Welcome to Madame Erebus’, teller of fortunes and miserly doings. Your patronage is appreciated.”

She claps her hands together, long red nails the color of blood, and walks swiftly back through the door she came in.

Steve steps forward but Eddie holds fast, stopping him in his tracks.

“You sure about this? That was a lot of money to spend on a hack.”

“Don’t be tetchy. She probably got our names from Robin. It’ll be fun.”

“She’s a fortune teller , Steve. And she definitely sounds local.”

Steve scoffs, gently tugging himself free from Eddie’s fingers. He grabs Eddie’s wrist and squeezes.

“Trust me, it’s just a fun night cap. Then we’ll walk back to the hotel.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but goes along, because he always does.

–

Inside the back room is a round table and set of chairs. The table is draped in a heavy purple cloth that, when Eddie gets close, he can tell see is velvet. In the center of the table sits a large crystal ball.

It just keeps getting better and better.

The Madame, he thinks with a snort, shoots him a scathing look. Like she read his mind.

Eddie swallows thickly and sits beside his eager boyfriend, who seems oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

“Will you tell us about our futures?” Steve asks, a dopey smile crossing his face.

“Steve…”

Steve swats at his chest. He’s more drunk than Eddie realized, and he’s less drunk than he was when he walked in here. It’s a strange reversal, though he’s always been one to quickly hone in on situations that make him feel less than his best.

Madame Erebus lifts her hands to hover around the crystal ball. Inside a fog starts up, swirling thickly around. It must be mechanical.

“I will tell you only what the aether says you must know.”

She closes her eyes and breathes in, her chest heaving. For a long moment only her sucking gasps fill the room, and Eddie shifts, suddenly uncomfortable.

They should have just kept walking.

Underneath the cover of the table, he finds Steve’s hand and holds it. The room is zeroing in on them, feels like slow motion, a bomb about to fall on his head. He blinks, dizziness knocking him sideways.

The fortune teller’s eyes snap open. The same smoky white has obscured any other part of her eye, the milky haze piercing the middle distance.

Her fingers twitch like spider legs, jerky and fast. Eddie keeps his lips pressed together as he watches, waiting.

Steve is far away now. It feels like only Eddie is in the room with the Madame, a sensation not unlike being tethered to a boat when far beneath a wave. The tether is Steve’s hand in his. The waves are the sea beneath the fog, and Eddie is fighting not to go under.

The Madame’s neck cuts to the left, those milky eyes seeming to lock on Eddie alone.

Her jaw drops, red lips parting on a groan so guttural he feels it reverberate through his chest.

“You fear you are not enough, and will do anything to prove it true. He will see you for the infernal liar we know you to be,” she gasps, again and again, and Eddie feels sick. Feels flames lick teasing at his heels. “He will learn what you are. Let it be that he is the reason you shall reap what you have long past sown.”

Fiend fiend fiend fiend fiendish fire friendly future fracture freak freak freak freak —

The darkness washes away.

A single trail slips down his cheek. He can’t blink, can’t reset.

She sees him. She’s seen him.

He can’t be here anymore. Not ever again.

Eddie launches himself from the chair, yanking Steve along after him.

Steve is still giggling, a happy drunk tonight. If he’d seen what Eddie had when looking into Erebus’ eyes, he wouldn’t be so carefree.

No. No, that was meant for Eddie alone.

The Madame’s laughter rings in his ears when they make it to the street.

Steve wraps an arm over his shoulder, squeezing him tightly before easing up.

“You’re shaking, Eddie. Don’t tell me her little flashing ball got you spooked?”

Eddie laughs, the sound hollow.

He never should have come back.