#ghost eddie munson

[strangerxperv]

Do you guys wanna hear about my ghost! Eddie who, despite not being alive, tries to breed you?

[steviewashere]

Walking To The Bright Lights In Sorrow

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Major Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Discussions of the Death Penalty, Eddie's Death Seen as a Suicide (I think that's the only way I can describe it) Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, (Except Vecna Dies, Too), Angst, Mild Comfort, Dead Eddie Munson, Grieving Steve Harrington, Ghost Eddie Munson, Moving On, Goodbyes, Love Confessions, Eddie Moving on To the After Life, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Missed Opportunity, Promises Title from "Grace" by Jeff Buckley For @steddieangstyaugust Day 2 Prompt: Ghost(s)

🪦—————🪦 In the hollow of night, woken fresh from a nightmare, Steve started to have conversations with the dead air in his bedroom. It started as short, assuring affirmations in a scratchy sort of mumbling, something to calm him down. But now, it’s to somebody.

Eddie Munson.

He’s not wearing the green vest or the combat boots or the black bandanna. He’s not covered in blood and looking beyond Steve’s shoulder. No, Eddie’s clean and vivacious and in his usual everyday—the black leather jacket and the Hellfire Club t-shirt and dark blue, near black denim jeans. All that’s missing is the vest, but Eddie has turned him down every single time he’s offered it up.

The vest was clean, Steve made sure of that. Every patch in its place. All the buttons, the pins were stabbed through the material; just as Eddie left it. Just as Eddie gave it to him. And Steve knew, within half-conversations with Dustin, that battle vests really meant something. It was armor, a safety blanket, a flag, and a promise. To stay true to oneself.

But it seemed like Eddie didn’t need Steve’s help on that front. Because he swore, beyond everything, that Eddie was alive in his room. He was speaking and flailing and grinning. He was joking and laughing and holding himself casually. Sometimes, he swore that Eddie would reach out to him, like he was gearing up to brush back his hair or soothe a palm down his tense bicep or hold his trembling hand, but then he’d hesitate with some awful, sour sort of realization. He’d give up right then and there.

It happens again tonight.

It’s four in the morning. The sun not up yet. Early December, almost Christmas, and Steve is somehow sweating himself out of his clothes. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, gripping to the mattress with his aching fingers, looking at the carpet below his bare feet. And he notices when Eddie joins him because he settles on the mattress, too. Makes the bed dip. His weight barely anything, but Steve has known how to gauge him months ago.

“The bats,” Eddie’s voice croaks. It’s not a pretty sound. Almost a rasp, something on the verge of…death, but Steve makes himself stave that thought off. His voice echoes, too. Like a whisper in a cathedral. Hauntingly close.

Steve nods his head in response. Whispers, “I couldn’t stop them from getting to you…again.”

Eddie hums beside him. “You couldn’t stop them in the first place, Steve,” he states, “they came for me when you weren’t there.”

“I should’ve been”—

“No,” Eddie’s quick to murmur, “no, Steve. It was my choice. Nothing would’ve changed my mind, I promise you that.” It’s the same thing he says every time Steve has the nightmare about the demobats. It’s the same dismissive murmur. It’s the same factual thing. Steve hates it, but won’t say that. Doesn’t think he really can.

There’s silence in the room now. Tense and rigid and thick. He wants to cut it with a knife or tear it apart with his bare hands, but can’t even lift his fingers away from the mattress, can’t even make them curl into his own palms.

The mattress shifts next to him. Eddie’s cold, fog-heavy, wind-like presence icy on Steve’s arm. It’s the closest thing to touching they can get. All he wants is to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder, wants to smell his hair, wants to trace his fingers over the soft parts of his cheeks where those wounds are noticeably not present. Though, part of him is petrified of what happens if he does. A part of him wonders if it’ll be like in Hollywood—the ghosts touching their loved ones and then disappearing into a nothingness. A yearning, empty nothingness.

“I passed by Dustin’s before I came over here,” Eddie breathes into the space. That echo ever present, ever stomach curdling. “He was sound asleep. All curled up under his blanket. He was…there was this faint smile on his face and it’s probably the best thing I’ve seen since his head banging during our crazy, alter-dimension performance. I didn’t stop inside, though. Didn’t want to wake him.”

He swallows. Doesn’t know why Eddie’s telling him this. But he just responds low and careful, “He’s been keeping himself busy with Hellfire. Got a lot of responsibility now, y’know? I watched him do that master stuff or whatever…he’s got a talent for it, at least I think so.”

“Dustin was always going to be my pick for when I graduated,” Eddie says, a soft smile present in his voice. It soothes something racing in Steve’s veins, but he’s not ready to sleep, not ready to see Eddie’s face close behind the blackness in his eyelids. “I’ve heard a bit here and there of his campaigns. He…uh…he makes me an NPC a lot, doesn’t he?”

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. Murmurs, voice crackling, “He always saves you. Always, Eds. You always join the party members as a companion. Sometimes, you’re the only one still standing.” He finally lifts his gaze from the floor to look into Eddie’s eyes. His dark, yet cold and ghastly eyes. “I don’t think he can handle you dying again,” he admits, “I don’t think anybody can. Not even me.”

Eddie blinks at that. His mouth barely twitching into a frown before going neutral again. Lets out a soft, aching sigh. “The only thing I regret about dying is that all of you guys are so hung up on it,” he says, voice gone flat. Devoid.

Cold.

“Jesus Christ, Eds. That’s”—

“Brutal?” He finishes. “Yeah, Steve, I know. But it’s the truth.” His body shifts again, crouching to stand. And in the blink of an eye, Steve is looking up at Eddie, at him standing and hovering. Hands on his hips, gaze pointed out to the backyard, watching the curtains shiver from the small opening in the window. “I was going to be sentenced to the death penalty, you know that? They were going to ask for my last meal. Which I’d say the same thing I requested—Honeycombs, YooHoo, maybe some beer if they’d allow it. Then they were going to execute me. I think that’s more brutal, don’t you?”

And then he stares directly into Steve. Into. His gaze burns. Despite the icy edge to his irises. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe—he doesn’t need to do that anymore anyway.

A moment later, he looks away and continues, “I didn’t want that. I wanted to go out on my own accord. And I wanted it to mean something. It did, in the end, it ended up saving the world.

“I, Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins and three time senior—I was a hero at the end of the day. Even though you told me not to. I know what you told me. But sometimes you gotta bend the rules in order to make things right.”

“But, Eds…Eddie, the town still thinks”—

“Fuck what they think, Steve. I know what I am.” He moves at that. Crouching on the ground in front of Steve. Down on his knees. Face looking up to Steve’s sad gaze. His hands hover over Steve’s bare knees. “I know what I am,” he repeats, a murmur. “I don’t regret my death. I don’t regret what had to be done. I just hate that all of you always remember, you guys are constantly mourning. Over me? You’re mourning over me? We hardly knew each other!”

Steve sniffs. His lips wobble when he opens them to speak. There are tears sitting in his waterlines, hot and spiky and ready to spill. “I wanted to know you, Eds. I like when you’re here. I like dreaming about you because then we can talk and I can”—

“Baby,” Eddie coos sadly, “baby, this isn’t doing you any good.”

“It is!” Steve crows, “it is and now…now that you saw me tonight, I can go back to sleep and it’ll be fine.” He even scoots up the mattress, carefully, and situates himself under his blanket. “See? Cozy and warm. I’ll go to sleep and everything will be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

There’s a stunned, slow moment of silence. Eddie isn’t on the floor anymore, instead sitting on the edge of the mattress. All his movements hidden in between blinks, when Steve’s shifting and can’t see him. He can hear Eddie audibly swallow, hard enough that it sounds like he’s consuming rocks. But he doesn’t speak.

“Right?” Steve asks again, soft this time. So soft that it nearly gets lost on its way over the comforter. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ve got a funny story to tell you and we can”—

“Steve,” Eddie finally breathes. He looks over. Dark eyes hauntingly crestfallen. Piercing Steve like the sharp end of that stupid syringe. It makes him ache in all the worst ways. Just on the cusp of a heart attack. Eddie’s right hand shifts from his lap, moving slow over the blanket, hovering on the left side of Steve’s face. Contemplating. “Steve, I want to go. I…I’ve seen all I need to. You’re the last one.”

“Eds,” he murmurs.

“I want to go home, sweetheart. I want to see my mom. I want…I want to be in my childhood home. I want to dance with her. I want to go. Please.” And with the faintest of touch, he swipes his cold, ghostly thumb under Steve’s eye, into his hairline, over the top of his ear. He doesn’t disappear, but Steve doesn’t even want to blink. “I’ll still be in here, when you want me,” he says, tapping at Steve’s temple. “But I can’t be in here anymore,” and he states that with a wide arm gesturing around the bedroom.

He blinks, finally. Tears spilling hot and fast over his cheeks. Lips trembling. Nose stuffed up and snotty. Eddie’s still not gone, not yet, at least. “Okay,” he squeaks. “I just…I think I”—

“I know,” Eddie whispers, “I know, baby. I feel the same way.” His touch gets heavier, firmer on Steve’s cheek. In slow motion, his legs begin to wisp away. Steve hates that he was right about this part. “I love you, too, Stevie. I’ve had so much fun with you all these nights. I just want to rest, too.”

Steve closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Eddie go, but he nods his head slow against his pillow. Sinking into the last bit of touch Eddie will ever give him. “Promise me something?”

“Anything,” Eddie breathes, voice far away.

“Save me a spot?”

His thumb presses hard into Steve’s cheek. There’s a smile to his voice again, “Always, Stevie.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs, relaxing into his mattress. “Goodnight, Eds.”

The only response is the faint brush of wind from the window.

It’s almost like a kiss.

🪦—————🪦

[fandoms-in-law]

Ghostly Assistance

Summary: In 1989 Charles and Edwin have only been friends a few months when Steve and Robin meet them, sent to England by El who insists someone in London can help them get Eddie back. Steve isn't pleased when the ghosts suggest it sounds like Eddie is dead but Edwin and Charles agree to help regardless.

Author's note: Anyone else wonder how the detectives got their office? Cause I do. Also yeah, my idea for today was angsty and that's basically never my vibe. Thank you that this is out of my brain now, it's over shadowed multiple of the fics I've been writing this month just by knowing it was coming up at some point. Also decided my idea doesn't work for questions the fic and Steve bring up quite vehemently.

My Idea prompt for today: Steve finds out he can see ghosts by meeting the Dead Boy Detectives, which would be fun if it didn't explain why he's been able to see and hang out with Eddie when no-one else can. They'd hoped it was some upside down thing instead

/\/\

Eddie was alive; he had to be. Steve could see him, talk to him, just not touch him, but that just meant he was trapped in the Upside Down and they needed to save him. It couldn’t mean he was dead, no matter how the kids worried.

If Steve was somehow seeing a ghost, he’d surely be seeing more of them around Hawkins. It would be ludicrous to suppose that out of everyone killed by the Upside Down, Russians and US experimentation, only Eddie had become a ghost.

His faith in Eddie being alive, and El’s certainty there were people in London who could help bring him back was everything pushing him onto the plane, and Robin coming along made it almost feel like a holiday for them. Time away with his best friend to help save the man that meant so much to them all. It felt more like the adventures the kids described from their DnD games than anything they’d gone through yet.

Three years of quiet from the Upside Down, of worrying that it might come back but being assured by Will and El something was preventing that, assured by Eddie that he’d let them know if something bad was about to happen, and they finally had names of people El was sure would help. Even if the threat of danger wasn’t gone from Hawkins it was at least quiet enough for the trip to happen. Especially when they ensured their return flights could be brought forward free of charge.

/\/\

The names El had given them weren’t in any London phone book Robin had found and she’d taken to leading them around London, as if hoping to just run into them somehow. Steve didn’t think that would work but he also hadn’t been allowed to keep the note El had written with the names of who they were looking for.

Just having it calmed some of Robin’s frantic energy over doing this so he hadn’t argued that much. He was beginning to want to know what the names were though, having forgotten since boarding their flight.

Just as he turned to ask her Steve realised he’d been about to walk into a very formally dressed boy and dodged out of the way, tugging Robin further in also as a second boy was talking to the first he’d seen. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologised quickly as the odd looks he received.

“Steve?” Robin asked, sounding bewildered.

The formally dressed boy just nodded, “It’s fine.” He said, nodding and turning as if to carry on, but the second boy paused a moment, looking him over as if wanting to say more.

“Why are you talking to the air? What’s with yanking me here? Nobody is there.” Robin huffed, pulling herself out of his grip to gesture directly at the two boys.

“What?” Steve frowned now looking at her in confusion, “Oh, have a good day,” He called after the boys, focusing back on his friend, “The boys we just passed? They’re right there, still.”

She shook her head, following his gesture again, “Nope, nobody other than us on this street.”

“I don’t know what prank you’re trying to pull, Robs, but they’re blatantly there.” He huffed, gesturing again as if that would force her to stop denying it.

The second boy, more casually dressed, made a thoughtful noise, “You think it’d help to tell him we’re ghosts?”

Steve turned at that, eyes narrowed and looking over them again. “I’d know if I could see ghosts. Hawkins must have tons by this point.”

“Who mentioned ghosts, Steve?” Robin gripped his upper arm, looking around confused and concerned now.

“He did!” Steve repeated, gesturing back to the pair.

She shook her head, “Nobody is there.”

“Where is Hawkins and why would there be a lot of ghosts there?” The formally dressed boy had pulled out a notebook and was looking at him intrigued.

“Just admit is Eddie somehow got here.” Robin carried on, talking over him as if she couldn’t hear him at all and Steve was beginning to believe she wasn’t joking or just acting like she couldn’t.

He still glared at her and the boys. “It’s not Eddie and Hawkins, Indiana, America. The amount of death and shit that’s gone on in that town in the last 6 years, there’d be more than enough ghosts I’d know I could see them before now.” He huffed, but held up a hand when he could see another question about to be asked, “And Eddie is someone stuck in the Upside Down who I can see like you, she can’t and do not suggest he’s anything but alive.”

The casually dressed boy laughed, “Mate, you named somewhere the Upside Down? What is it? A pub?”

“Also I would assume Eddie is, in fact, dead, if as you say, you see him like us while others cannot.” The formal boy added.

Steve didn’t reply to either of them, turning to head back the way they’d come as quickly as he could while still walking.

Robin hesitated, looking around where they’d been before jogging to catch up. “Steve? Steve, Don’t storm off. I’ll get lost! Or you will.” She called, only pausing for a second after catching him up to place a comforting hand on his back, “Did the ghosts suggest Eddie’s dead?”

“He’s not dead.” He insisted.

She didn’t reply for a moment, looking torn between agreeing or trying to comfort him about that being a possibility. He heard in that moment the formal boy remarking “What an unusual couple. Charles? Why are you following them?”

“Mate, hey, sorry Edwin said that. Sounds like you’ve been through some stuff. We’re trying to help people where we can. Maybe if you tell us more we could help you, or your friend, Eddie, was it?” The boy called, catching up to them easily and earnestly meeting Steve’s eyes as he offered.

Robin sighed, nodding at something in Steve’s expression though he couldn’t guess what or how it’d changed with the boy offering to help them. “I believed you Eddie is alive before now so I’m sticking with that. But seeing ghosts? That’s pretty cool, right? Bet Dustin would call it metal.”

“No Robin, I don’t think so and doubt Dustin would either when they’re saying Eddie’s dead. Also they’re still here, offering to help.” Steve grumbled. He didn’t want help from people saying Eddie was dead.

“Okay, then listen, they’re willing and the first people we’ve had actually talk to us. All El gave us was 2 names and nothing else to find these people she thinks can help. Can you at least ask them about that?” She suggested gently.

“In a city like London it’s unlikely we’ll be able to assist, but I suppose we can try,” The formal boy, Edwin? Agreed with a heavy breath as if against letting his friend offer their help.

Steve glanced at him for a moment, “Thank you, except, Robs, you kept the note. I know one name began Ed but wasn’t Edward and the other might’ve been Charlie? Charlotte? Something charred but I haven’t seen the note or been told the names since we boarded the flight.”

As Robin huffed and muttered about having said them so many times while trying to find them and riffling through her jacket pockets to find the note, the casually dressed boy, Charles?, grinned, “Your flight from America? Yeah, I’d have forgotten them too. Guessing whomever you’re looking for isn’t in a phone book either.”

“She checked that as soon as she could with no luck.” Steve sighed as Robin half cheered, pulling the note out.

“Oh! Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland! That’s what El wrote.”

The names got a reaction from the pair talking to Steve and given the names he’d heard so far he could guess why. Edwin was smirking and Charles burst into laughter, “You’re kidding. That’s aces. Glad I stopped you storming off.”

“Quite so Charles. We’re the people you’re looking for apparently.” Edwin agreed, before his brow furrowed. “I would invite you to join us somewhere but Charles and I don’t currently have a residence. Perhaps we could reconvene at your hotel?”

Steve shrugged, “Guess we’ll have to. How would ghosts get a residence, anyway?” He asked offhand, before turning to Robin, “El asked us to find these ghosts. Apparently your method of randomly walking around London worked.”

“I told you it – So I flew all this way to help you find them and I can’t even see them? Why didn’t El ensure you got all the information instead of me?” Robin began to gloat before pausing in frustration.

“Haunting where they died most often, however neither of us are inclined to remain at the school we died within.” Edwin answered, gesturing to Steve for him to lead the way.

Steve nodded at the answer before replying to Robin’s question, “Probably because you were insisting on coming with me despite being very anxious over the idea of flying. El knows we share everything with each other eventually anyway. We’re going back to the hotel now, come on.”

The walk back was taken over by Robin wondering aloud about ghosts and occasionally Charles or Edwin explaining something more so Steve could share it.

/\/\

It had been a joke the last time they’d helped a ghost solve their unfinished business and been gifted something in return; a bag that Charles had been told to be careful with since it could store many things but also injure those removing items too harshly. He’d suggested trying to solve people problems for payment as their plans for their life and getting an office to do it from.

Edwin was wondering if that joke wasn’t as absurd as he’d thought now, listening to these two humans explain their friend’s situation as well as why Steve was so certain he was alive even 3 years after he was last seen in his body.

It could certainly give them a place to form a reference library for these sorts of problems.

“What about the ghosts, Robin?” Steve exclaimed. She’d been repeating the facts about ghosts that had been shared again, comparing it to Eddie but he clearly had his focus on a different detail. “I can listen and repeat what these boys are saying all you like, but why is there only Eddie even slightly ghost like in Hawkins?”

Edwin cleared his throat, “If I may, you might not have recognised ghosts in your town as such. Perhaps-” He broke off at the glare shot to him.

“You don’t know Hawkins. I can name 5 unjustified deaths without blinking and at least half I know would have unfinished business or a reason to stay. That’s ignoring the kids and that lab which killed or experimented on them until their deaths. If Eddie is a ghost, which I absolutely don’t believe, where are the rest? Why isn’t Barb still trying to reach Nance to ensure her boyfriend is good enough, or Chrissy, I don’t know, haunting Jason’s old mob? Why aren’t El’s siblings doing anything to show they’re there and mad over the guy who killed them still surviving and plotting?” The rant burst out of Steve and frankly left Edwin with more questions, enough that he stood back and started noting down what seemed to be important deaths or locations in Hawkins.

“And why is El also saying Eddie is alive.” Robin added quietly, as if coming to a realisation over Steve’s frustration.

Steve clicked at her, “Remembered that have you? El doesn’t lie.”

“Mates, I think you need to actually tell us what’s gone on in Hawkins. Just talking about Eddie clearly isn’t enough information.” Charles said, gaping slightly between the pair. “What was that about a lab killing kids?”

The story of Hawkins was disturbing, but Edwin was still dubious over the help they wanted. Moving to another country to help, even temporarily, seemed to be an extreme decision. Steve and Robin had barely finished their tale when he stood. “Charles, a word?” He gestured to the closet, deciding it was best to at least remain with the pair until their decision was made.

“Are you truly considering going to America to help these people? They’ve already got plenty of assistance from what they’ve said.”

Charles nodded, “And are getting nowhere with the issue. Sounds like they’re basically just waiting for it to kick off again instead of facing the guy causing all the deaths.” He gestured to Edwin with a grin, “And who better to help than the man who in a matter of months has gained more knowledge about magic and supernatural beings than most ghosts we’ve met? Besides, I know you’re curious. You wanna prove yourself right over Eddie as well as figure out why they haven’t got more ghosts around. Come on.”

Edwin fought the smile that wanted to break through. “No I-”

“Did you just gesture that they’ve hidden in the closet from us?” Robin’s voice came from the room outside the closet.

Steve huffed as if he’d tried to keep her quiet. “Edwin isn’t on board with coming back with us yet. Charles is convincing him.”

“In the closet? Are they-?” Her words drifted of, clearly implying something from the quiet groans Charles and Steve let out, Charles shaking his head.

“Don’t think so and definitely not currently. Best friends like us, I’d guess.” Steve replied after a thump that sounded like he’d shoved her lightly back.

Robin laughed, “Or two boys in a closet.”

“Convenient place to argue with the illusion of privacy. You think we should try that at home?”

“Nah, imagine how insufferable the kids would get if we started going into closets together all the time?”

Charles laughed, meeting Edwin’s eyes, “Guess Steve could hear us too.”

“Clearly. And You’re correct. I’m curious, but what if helping reveals us to death, or puts us at risk of whatever has prevented ghosts from forming in Hawkins?” Edwin returned to their conversation. “Or worse, since I’ve already encountered information on things that destroy ghosts entirely.”

“Wait!” Steve called, yanking the door open, “Death exists? Did I hear that right? Would you prefer we try and contact him directly?”

Edwin rolled his eyes, “Her and no, that would be the height of stupidity. Please close the door and refrain from further eavesdropping.”

Steve barely nodded as he did so, already turned to Robin. “Robs, Death is female! I wonder what she’s like?”

After a moment to hear the two friends start gossiping over death together Edwin and Charles finally continued their discussion over whether they should help, hopeful that Steve wasn’t listening still.

/\/\

“Do you think they’ll really get us a place?” Charles asked. They had decided to wait at London airport for the day or so it would take Robin and Steve to get home and were wondering over something Robin had offered. “Would be brills if they could even get it in London.”

Edwin wasn’t quite so convinced or excited by the thought. “We’ll have to wait and see, Charles. Although I would be grateful for a place to collate our research and cases.”

/\/\

“Are you the pair El said would help?” Eddie hesitated, ready to run from the two boys who’d appeared through the mirror in his trailer bathroom. There wasn’t a gate forming at least so he didn’t worry about the Upside Down being pushed to merge with Hawkins again.

The first boy to come through paused, looking him over. “Yes we are and despite El and Steve’s insistence you definitely seem to be a ghost.” He said.

“He’s Edwin. I’m Charles. Are you Eddie?” Charles greeted, having straightened up from where he’d fallen.

“Yes and no, I’m not dead. Vecna doesn’t let ghosts form. Come on, I’ll point out where my body is to you.” Eddie gestured, leading the way out. “I don’t think he can see me, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Edwin kept his voice hushed while replying, “You’re friends were beginning to think Vecna is dead.”

“Annoyingly he isn’t. I was hoping they’d believe that if it stayed quiet for long enough though. They’ve not been relaxing and have only just figured out patrols that don’t leave everyone a bit sleep deprived. I’m keeping him here for as long as I can.” Eddie explained, crouching behind some trees where they could see one of the gates El had mentioned needing to close each time they reopened.

“How?” Charles asked, seeing Eddie’s body moving to go through the gate and being pulled back somehow.

Eddie grunted, putting effort into yanking Vecna away from the gate. “Whatever Vecna did to kick me out of my body still lets me refuse to let it leave here. I go and see Steve or El if he’s distracted and I’m certain he won’t try to go through for a while.”

“It’s difficult to do.” Edwin observed. “This is a very unusual occurrence but then I still don’t understand El’s powers either.”

“Bet I could beat him though.” Charles offered. “If he’s got a body of his own around here, that is.”

Eddie snickered a little, “Yeah, please don’t kill me going after him.”

Charles nodded, “Course, Mate, would hurt someone Steve likes so much. You okay if we go back to him now though, do some research and planning to see if we can help?”

“Just keep me up to date on any plans.” Eddie waved them off, staying close to the gate just in case his body tried breaking through again.

/\/\

Steve was fuming, heartbroken, and an entire mix-up of emotions he couldn’t break down enough to understand. He was also staring at Edwin and Charles as if they were speaking Russian until Robin stepped in front of him. “Steve? Steve? Are Edwin and Charles back? What are they saying? Your reaction is scaring the kids.”

“Vecna took Eddie’s body. I’m going to kill him.” He blinked back to himself, going to grab his nail bat from the hall closet.

“No, put the nail bat down.” Dustin immediately jumped up, trying to tug the bat from his grip. “You aren’t killing anyone until Eddie has his body back, whatever that means.”

“Steve, you can’t go after him now.” Robin appeared at his side again. “You’d risk killing Eddie yourself if you did.”

Charles looked around at the various people there, focusing on Will and El as the other two who could see him. “Does this Vecna guy have a body?” He asked.

“Yes, we’ve gone against him before and he was in it then.” Steve growled out. “So let me in there to beat it to shreds. Kill the body and he’ll have to leave Eddie’s, right?”

El shook her head. “He’s possessing Eddie’s now, possibly because it’s less connected and stronger than his own without the vines.” She mused.

“It reduces your ability to find him too. I guess that’s why your early attempts to connect and fight him mentally failed, but if you faced him, went to meet him at a gate or something, could you get him out of Eddie’s body? Send him back to his own? If these two can find his own body and like blow it up at the same time, even better.” Steve suggested, looking between El and the ghosts imploringly, seemingly unconcerned that he’d gone from wanting to be the one to kill Vecna to planning for others to do the most damage in an instant.

Edwin shared a glance with Charles before nodding, “An astute plan, Steve. El, are you able to do that?”

El barely managed to agree before Mike interrupted, “Please tell me one of those ghosts had a better plan you’re agreeing to than the nonsense Steve just spewed.”

“Edwin said the plan was smart.” El simply replied.

“Steve? Smart?” Mike scoffed, “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

Watching Edwin slam one of the research books nearest Mike shut and the boy jumping away from it had Steve and a few other snickering, but soon sobering.

El waited for Edwin to finish his repetition of the praise before relaying it for everyone to hear, “Edwin says of course. Steve’s the one noticing the details that have helped form a viable plan to resolve Eddie’s situation and the threats over our town. Charles also thinks the plan is brills and is asking whether he needs to get explosives himself or we can provide some.”

“Great.” Mike groaned, but was called to start planning by Hopper and Nancy who were ready to fine tune Steve’s idea now someone had one.

/\/\

Hopper stared at Steve and Robin, bewildered and obviously questioning their sanity. “You want to buy an office, in England, for some ghosts who helped you with this? When since the plan to get rid of Vecna and save Eddie succeeded there’s been countless hauntings here?” He listed, breaking each question off sharply.

“I can help with most of those and El is working through the rest. Half of them just need telling what happened with their deaths and that the man orchestrating them all is dead himself now, definitely in hell to please them more.” Steve reasoned.

“Besides, we only asked Charles and Edwin to help us save Eddie and we did promise to get them their own place in payment.” Robin continued. “And if you don’t cosign to confirm it’s legit, Steve’ll just fake his father’s signature and make the Harrington accounts cover everything in case Edwin and Charles struggle at all.”

Steve had been ready to continue their arguments but paused at that. “Actually Hop, you’re right. We should do that as the first option. Charles has said he’ll write still anyway.”

“Brills.” Charles muttered behind them. “Please tell me your parents are rich assholes who never show up?”

“Correct in one. Let’s get you two back to England so we can set up your office.” Steve nodded, turning around. “Eddie’s coming with us and we’re going to have a few days holiday to sight see while we’re there too.”

Charles grinned and Edwin had a small smile also. “You really are being very generous to do this for us.”

“And you were very generous in agreeing to help us and everything you’ve done.” Steve mimicked his speech a little, smiling to show it was just teasing. “Seriously though, this doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough. Are you sure an office space is what you want?”

“Indeed. Along with all the games the other boys are insisting on you bringing back with you I’m sure it will be plenty enough.” Edwin confirmed. He knew the games being given to them wasn’t purely out of kindness; most of the kids had parents pushing them to clear out games rarely played with, but they seemed like a pleasant way to pass an evening at least.

[ghosttotheparty]

i’ll still be here after daybreak 5

originally posted on twitter // also on ao3 // prev

steve doesn’t like going to sleep. it’s stupid, he knows. sleep is good for you. robin keeps telling him.

he would like to stay up all night. it’s quieter. lonelier, in a good way. when he can ignore the little sounds from outside, the scratching of branches against the glass of windows, the rustling of rabbits hopping through shrubs, the fluttering of dry leaves, he can actually feel fine. no kids to drive around town, no customers to tolerate and smile at, no sun to squint in.

he stays up too late.

watching movies and baseball games, flipping through magazines and books, baking. he bakes now, apparently. mike teases him relentlessly, but he always seems happy when steve passes him an extra cookie.

but steve always gets sleepy eventually. he’s always tired.

nightmares wake him up. every night.

he opens his eyes gasping, searching the dark for anything at all. he shivers from the chill of his sweat drying on his skin even though he sleeps under blankets. and he’s shaking. he’s always shaking.

the dreams change.

the kids are usually involved. laying in their usual puppy pile, but their chests are still, their eyes glazed over blankly, their skin painted red. nancy is there, a bullet in her head. jonathan, gutted and eviscerated.

eddie. staring at him. arms fallen to his sides, palms facing the sky. blood seeping into the ground around him, red so dark it looks black.

robin.

her voice fading in her mouth as she says steve’s name.

blood staining her lips.

other times the dreams don’t make any sense.

one night he wades through broken glass that’s flooding the house. it slices his skin with every shift of his arms, and the front door doesn’t seem to move any closer.

another night he hears robin’s voice calling his name, but no matter where he goes, her voice is distant. desperate. scared.

every night is confusing.

dustin loses his teeth. lucas’s arms break. the wheelers’ house catches fire. robin’s freckles wash away in the rain. steve finds himself trapped in the hawkins high elevator, and the mirror shatters when he looks into it. his parents come home and he falls apart when they say his name. he gets trapped in his blankets and suffocates. he trips and falls through a crack in the pavement.

sometimes he wakes up with tears in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. his muscles are sore from how tense he is, and he feels more tired than he did before he fell asleep.

and it’s miserable. it’s so fucking miserable.

he longs for just a few hours of sleep.

for some fucking rest. he catches short naps sometimes during the day, during hangouts in the wheelers’ basement, while the kids are arguing about dungeons and dragons or whatever book series they’re all into. during his breaks at family video, as he’s lounging on the sofa.

he can fall asleep anywhere. sometimes he naps in his car, using robin’s forgotten sweater as a pillow. once he laid on the floor to color with holly, but he fell asleep before he finished his first picture. he woke up to a purple mustache and cartoonish glasses from mike.

it’s never enough. he’s perpetually exhausted.

and he wonders if his ghost can see it on him. can see him toss and turn and cry and wipe his face clean when the sun comes up. if it just watches him.

if maybe that’s why it helps him out, turning the water colder, pushing glasses across the counter so they’re closer to him. one morning he wakes up with his blanket tucked around him in a way it usually isn’t, and he’s curious.

when he starts feeling rested in the mornings, he’s mostly confused, but he’s scared to acknowledge it. like it’ll jinx him, like it’ll turn everything back to the way it was.

he’s still scared to go to sleep, even though he keeps waking up with no memory of nightmares.

he still falls asleep.

during movie night, he’s close to drifting off when something touches his face, brushing down the bridge of his nose. when he opens his eyes, he just sees the ceiling, and he suppresses a smile.

his ghost.

steve might love them.

his ghost taps the end of his nose when he closes his eyes again, and he holds back an honest-to-god giggle, like he’s a kid with a crush. and then he drifts off there, arm around robin, revelling in the ghost’s gentle touch.

after a while, he’s half awake, and he opens his eyes the slightest bit. it’s dark. robin is asleep next to him. the kids are still talking, their voices hushed around the sound of whatever movie they’ve got on now.

steve sighs and rests his head on the back of the sofa, closing his eyes again.

something brushes his cheek. he opens his eyes and then closes them again when he sees that there’s nothing there, and he turns his face into the touch.

it presses more firmly, spreading over his cheek and his jaw, and steve realises that it’s a hand, holding his face gently.

a hand. a man’s hand, strong and soft and almost fucking tender, like steve is fragile.

steve’s eyes burn. he doesn’t know why. he tilts his head, trying to turn his face into the palm, and the ghost lets him, stroking their thumb over steve’s cheek.

steve exhales shakily. robin shifts next to him.

‘you okay?’ she mumbles sleepily, and he looks at her. the fingers on his cheek stroke over his skin gently.

‘yeah,’ he whispers. ‘i’m good.’

she hums and turns to lay her head on his chest, her cheek squishing against him.

he gazes at her for a moment before he closes his eyes again, and he kind of wants to beg for the ghost to touch him again.

he doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything like it. so brief but so…

he doesn’t know.

kind, maybe.

it’s a few moments later when the ghost touches his cheek. steve presses his lips together to suppress a smile. and the air shifts like the ghost is smiling too as they trace his face so lightly it almost tickles.

and he wonders where the ghost is right now, if they’re sitting on the side of the sofa, or leaning over him, looking down at him. steve squeezes his eyes shut, focussing on the feeling of the ghost’s fingers, the feeling of robin breathing against him, her chest rising and falling steadily.

he drifts off again with a sigh, and then smell of leather and earth wafts over him like a breeze, and it washes over him like sunlight. he melts into the sofa with another sigh, and he’s overtaken by an odd feeling he’s never felt before. a sad kind of happy.

permanent taglist: @estrellami-1 @theplantscientist @spectrum-spectre @carlprocastinator1000 @starman-jpg @romantiklen @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

daybreak taglist: @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @yourmom-isgay @millseyes-world @notaqueenakhaleesi

(comment to added or removed!!)

buy me a coffee <3

[rindecisions]

[tiannasfanfic]

Check-In for the Recently Deceased: Part 1

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Eddie Munson never knew what to expect after he died. However, a waiting room certainly wasn't his first guess of what was waiting for him in the great beyond.

Rating: Mature

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns if any. Pat 1 of ?. Here's the start of another story for Spooky Season, this time featuring ghost!Eddie. 👻 I couldn’t find Eddie’s official birthdate anywhere, so I went with Joseph Quinn’s month and day.

CW: Major ST4 Spoilers; a lot of talk about death; mentions of ways to die (no details); mentions of wounds (left as vague as possible); mention of bloody clothes; angst (people reacting to the news they've died); hurt/comfort; dark humor.

Word Count: 3,746

Tag List: (I tagged everyone that commented on my original post, but please let me know if you want to be taken off. 😊) @tommiruewrites @munsonsmullet @who-let-me-write-this @lunr-flwr @hellfirefiend @bxtch-bou @jadeylovesmarvelxo @sataniquepanique @reincarnationoftheparty @corrodcd @iamnotagarden @idkidknemore

A long time ago, mankind developed spoken language and began conversing with one another.

Since then, one topic above all other has dominated conversations. This topic is ultimately what led to the invention of debates and, inevitably, the invention of arguments. It is a topic that has ruined friendships, torn apart families, and started many a long and bloody war.

Is there life after death?

Most religions of the world certainly seem to think so. They all have different names for it. Heaven, Valhalla, Zion, Elysium, and so on, but they all mean the same thing. Eternal paradise where your soul can be at rest.

Granted, not everyone believed in that sort of thing. While Agnostics don’t quite know where they are going, they are quite confident that they are going somewhere. Atheists, as far as they know, just wink out of existence at their time of death, but they are perfectly fine with that.

However, no matter which theory or religion you believe in, absolutely no faith in the history of mankind has ever described the afterlife as a brightly lit waiting room.

That was why when Eddie Munson found himself passing through a revolving gate into aforementioned brightly lit waiting room, he blinked a few times in surprise.

Last thing he knew, he was badly hurt and laying on the ground, looking up at Dustin and giving him instructions to take over Hellfire. He remembered being certain he was about to die, but then he was here. Eddie had no memory of getting from there to here.

The revolving gate whacked him in the back then, pushing him a few steps further into the room. He turned around to see what was outside but couldn’t see anything beyond the gate except for darkness and fog. Above the door was a lit sign that stated, No Exit. Indeed, there was no way to get back through the revolving tines of the gate. It was one way only.

Turning back to the main room, he finally took in his surroundings.

A few feet ahead of him was a small sign on top of a pole. It said Administration with an arrow pointing to the left, and Waiting Room just under that with an arrow pointing right.

Looking to his right, the waiting area reminded him of an ER. There were multiple rows of empty chairs, a few end tables and coffee tables stacked with magazines. and a coffee service cart in the corner, which made the room vaguely smell like coffee.

Looking to his left, on the other hand, reminded him of the DMV. The counter serving as the desk area was behind privacy glass and had five sliding windows. Eddie could just make out a shadow behind each window, indicating someone was at the desk behind it. Ropes attached to stanchions turned the open floor area into a little rope maze leading to the desk, which encouraged orderly queuing. A little ticket dispenser stood on a little pole at the back of the line, encouraging people to take a number before getting in line.

And, just like DMV and ER waiting rooms, soft elevator muzak was playing through the overhead speakers.

While the room was perfectly normal, with items and furniture typical for all waiting rooms, it all seemed distorted somehow. Eddie couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but everything was slightly warped, like it was just a step to the side of what it should look like.

A handwritten sign was taped to the pole underneath the printed one. Eddie stepped closer to read it.

Please check-in with Admitting first upon arrival. We cannot be held responsible if you go to Waiting first and end up sitting there for 27 and 9/18ths of a year. - Management

While being in a waiting room is never fun, that seemed like an oddly precise exaggeration. Eddie passed it off as someone in the office having a bad day from being on the receiving end of one too many ass chewings.

As directed, Eddie went to the Admissions area, taking a ticket from the small machine before following the path laid out with the ropes. He thought about hopping them since he was literally the only person in here, but stopped himself. He still didn’t know where he was or how he got here, so being cautious seemed like a good idea, especially after everything else he had just gone through.

Once he got to the head of the line, Eddie finally looked at the ticket he was holding.

4, the print on the ticket said.

Eddie looked up from the ticket to a glowing red sign above the counter.

Now Serving: 3, it said.

A few minutes passed, then there was a ding from the sign as the number changed from 3 to 4 and one of the windows slid open with a sudden bang that made Eddie jump.

“Next!” a loud voice called from it.

Eddie started to hurry over to the window but came to a sudden stop when he looked at the woman sitting behind the desk and his brain processed what he was seeing.

She was missing half of her face and part of her head.

Eddie stared at her, horrified. He felt a scream starting to rise up in his throat, an icy feeling of fear gripping him.

But then the woman did something so unexpected, it surprised him out of his fear.

She rolled her remaining eye with a loud huff and waved Eddie over impatiently.

“Come on, come on,” she said, her voice bored sounding. “I haven’t got all day.”

Eddie blinked, then slowly stepped up in front of the desk. Despite how she looked, he was able to understand the woman clearly. There was no lisp, gargle or anything of that nature when she spoke, just a hint of a Jersey accent. On top of that, she seemed perfectly at ease, not in any sort of pain.

Regardless of how realistic it looked; Eddie decided it had to be makeup. Really, really fucking good makeup, but makeup nonetheless. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Name?” the woman asked, turning her attention to what looked like a typewriter hooked up to a small TV.

“Um,” Eddie said, eyes darting from the weird piece of equipment. “Eddie Munson.”

“Just Eddie, Edward or something else?”

“Edward.”

The woman started typing then on the strange device. Eddie watched curiously as green lines of text appeared on the black screen as she typed. This must be one of those new computer things he’d heard about. He hadn’t seen one before since Hawkins High’s newest technology was still ancient as all hell.

“Birthday?” she asked.

“May 15, 1966,” Eddie answered.

The woman typed some more.

“Place of origin?”

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

The woman typed again and then began staring at the computer like she was waiting on something. Eddie glanced at the computer and saw the screen was dark now except for a blinking green cursor. A second later, some text appeared.

No records found.

The woman sighed.

“I swear, why do they give us all this new technology if they don’t have all of our information in it yet? Easier, they said. Pfft.”

The woman pushed her chair back, yanked open a filing cabinet under the desk and started rifling through the files in it.

Eddie got a better look at her then. Whatever costume party they were having up here, she had clearly gone all out for it. She was dressed as a dead homecoming queen, complete with long, frilly pink dress, pink heels, an elaborate crown over a partially fallen up-do, and a banner across her chest that stated OCHS Homecoming ‘71.

It was very creative, though he couldn’t tell how she was supposed to have died. Some sort of head injury, for sure, but that’s as far as he could guess.

“Ah, here we go,” she pulled a file out of the cabinet, closed it and scooted back up to the desk. “Here are today’s scheduled departures. Give me just a moment to find you.”

Eddie waited as she began to skim the papers in the file one by one. There were quite a few to go through, and it took a while to look over each one. At a glance, every page contained a rather comprehensive list of names, dates and locations.

Finally, after looking over the last page, the woman looked at Eddie with a furrow in the middle of her forehead.

“And you’re sure you are Edward Munson, May 15, 1966, Hawkins, Indiana?”

“Yeah, I think I know who I am,” he said, laughing a little.

However, the Homecoming Queen didn’t seem to find it quite so amusing. She raised an eyebrow at him with a stoic expression.

“This it can be an extremely traumatic experience for some,” she scolded Eddie, and his smile faded. “Depending on your reason for being here, you may not quite remember who you are at first.” Then she gestured to the ruined side of her head. “Took me over a week to get my bearings.”

Eddie mumbled an apology, even though he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. The woman’s face relaxed and she flipped the folder closed.

“I don’t have you in today’s file, so you may be in one of our Potentially Early files,” she said, then looked him up and down. “I can already tell I don’t need to check the Terminal Cases file. I’m going to assume the Unexpected Animal Attack file then?”

Eddie quirked his head at her in confusion, and the Homecoming Queen gestured at all of him. He looked down at himself and staggered backwards a few steps in shock.

This was the first time he had actually paid attention to himself. His Hellfire shirt was all torn to shreds through the torso and bloody. The wounds underneath it were still open, though they had completely stopped bleeding. He reached up in a near panic to feel both sides of his neck. His fingers were met with similar feeling wounds, and he quickly jerked them away. Oddly, none of them hurt despite the extent of the damage. They just kind of felt numb and a bit tingly, sort of like when his leg would fall asleep. Not exactly painful, but not exactly pleasant either.

Eddie looked back up to the woman and slowly nodded in answer to her questions. Technically, the Demobats were animals.

She nodded in acknowledgement, then swapped the file she had with a different one in the cabinet and started going through it the same way.

As she did that, Eddie’s head was reeling.

His last memories of Dustin, suddenly being here, the way Homecoming Queen looked, the way he looked…it all spun together in his mind to form the beginnings of a conclusion.

“Am I dead?” Eddie asked suddenly.

Homecoming Queen slowly lifted her gaze back to him, fixing him with a weird look before she slowly nodded her head. Then she turned her attention back to the file.

While Eddie had expected to die soon while he said goodbye to Dustin, the confirmation felt like a punch to the stomach.

And also, somehow, severely underwhelming.

After hearing this very topic debated virtually his entire life, Eddie never was sure what to believe in as far as god or the afterlife was concerned. But it always seemed to him like if there was something afterwards, there would be something big to let you know of the change. Kind of like puberty or getting old. One minute you’re fine, the next you’re a mess. It seemed like death would be the same way. Not just…one second, you’re dying, then next you’re in a waiting room. Was this really the afterlife?

“Hmm,” Homecoming Queen said, startling Eddie out of his thoughts.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re not in Unexpected Animal Attacks either,” she said, putting the file back in its proper order. “That must mean you’re really early.”

“Early?” he asked, blinking.

She nodded, replacing the file back into the cabinet.

“It happens sometimes,” she said. “As they say, shit happens. The sisters can only predict so much with so many fates in their hands. I’ll need to have the Librarians pull your Book of Life and check the date of your scheduled departure. Once I know when you were actually supposed to be here, I can go from there and see about getting you a placement.”

Eddie continued to stare at her, confusion passing over his features.

“Placement?” he asked. “Scheduled departure? Librarians? This all sounds way more like office work than I would have expected.”

Homecoming Queen chuckled, a bit of a smile her half face. There was a bit of a glimmer in her eye that gave away she saw a level of humor in his words that he didn’t quite get.

“Tell me about it,” she said, then shook her head a bit. “Luckily, you have your whole future in death ahead of you. Me? I’m permanently assigned right here to this very desk.”

“An afterlife behind a desk?” Eddie said, wrinkling his nose. “That sounds more like hell to me.”

The Homecoming Queen smiled at Eddie again, this time with a wizened look before she slightly nodding her head in agreement.

“If I knew then what I know now…” she said, letting her voice trail off, before shaking her head. “Anyhow. Please have a seat. It may take some time to find and pull your Book, but I’ll call you back up here once they’ve sent up the information I need. But, in the meantime.”

She pushed her chair away from her desk over to a shelf holding several a stacks of books. She took one and scooted back over to the window, where she slid the book across the counter to Eddie. He looked down, reading the name on the cover.

Handbook for the Recently Deceased.

“Now is a good time to start reading up,” she said, then tapped the cover with one finger. “Start from the beginning. Don’t skim it like some people do. Trust me, it’ll answer most of your questions, teach you about your new reality, and it will give some starting pointers.”

Eddie nodded and thanked her. As he was turning away from the counter, Homecoming Queen turned to the phone on her desk, hit a button on it, then picked up the receiver.

“Hey, it’s Diana from Admin,” he heard her saying into the phone as he was walking away. “I need the Book for Edward Munson, May 15, 1966, Hawkins, Indiana pulled for departure verification. He’s early, possibly very early, so he should still be categorized under-“

Eddie didn’t catch the rest of it as his attention was caught by two people coming in through the revolving gate. He did a double take, then quickly averted his eyes. They were in worse states than both him and the Homecoming Queen combined. He figured at this point it was impolite to stare at the other dead people. He kept his head down and made for a chair on the farthest end of the waiting room. A quick glance up showed them reading the signs and then heading for Admitting.

And so, the wait began.

A few more people trickled into the waiting room through the gate. Eddie couldn’t help but people watch as they all went to get checked in. Each new person that walked in sent a small jolt of shock through his system. Every single one looked like they had been through a horrific accident. It got easier to look at them without wanting to stare as time went on.

But then the trickle of dead souls soon turned into a steady stream as more and more people began coming through the gate.

It didn’t really dawn on Eddie that this might be an odd occurrence, even when he started recognizing people from around town. It wasn’t anyone he knew personally, mainly just those he largely saw in passing, such as the night clerk from the only 24-hour gas station in Hawkins and the waitress from Benny’s that Eddie usually flirted with. They were both young, in their late teens at minimum, so it was strange seeing them in the afterlife. Both looked like they had been through major accidents. Then again, everyone that came in looked like that to varying degrees, as if a lot of people in Hawkins had suddenly become a fatal level of accident prone.

He was starting to wonder about it when more people came in that he recognized. These weren’t just service workers he encountered in day-to-day life; these were people he knew on various levels. There were a few of his fellow students, two of his teachers and random people he had seen at The Hideout, among others. At one point, Eddie thought he heard Max calling for Lucas, but when he went to look for her to keep her company, he couldn’t find her.

A wheelchair came through the gate just then, one of those old-fashioned ones from the early 20th century. This wasn’t a strange sight as several people had come through in wheelchairs when their injuries were too severe to let them move about on their own. Even though the chairs were manual, they seemed to have a mind of their own at first. They self-propelled themselves and their passenger through the gate, then would wheel themselves off to the side out of the way. This is where they would stay unless they wheeled themselves somewhere else or someone helped them.

While he hadn’t recognized any of the others who came through in a chair, this particular wheelchair contained none other than Eddie’s tormentor, Jason Carver.

At first, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a little smug. If he had to be here, it seemed somehow fitting that Jason would be too. He had no plans to go rub it in his face though, the knowledge that Jason got his was more than-

Then the wheelchair re positioned itself and he forgot all about his spiteful thoughts when he saw the state Jason was in. Saying he had been cut in half was putting it mildly. It looked like he had been melted through around his middle. The top half of Jason’s body was sitting in his own lap.

Eddie was still trying to process this when Jason looked down and saw for himself the condition, he was in.

Everyone who passed through the waiting room had a different reaction to the revelation they were dead. Some took it well and seemed unbothered, while others openly sobbed or sat in shocked silence. But Jason was the first to openly scream in abject terror. He started screaming in terror and panic. He started to trash in his chair in his panic. That was when he discovered all of his limbs still worked just fine despite being separated. This seemed to freak him out even more, and his screams took a higher pitched, frantic tone.

The other people in the waiting room were not pleased with this.

“Pipe down!” one person yelled.

“Be glad you still have legs!” someone in a different wheelchair cried.

“We’re all dead! You ain’t special!” another person scolded.

If Jason heard them, he didn’t acknowledge them, too lost in his own panic attack to pay attention to anything else.

It was at that particular moment that Eddie realized something.

Despite everything that had happened, despite everything he had been put through at Jason’s hands, from the bullying when he was growing up to recent events, Eddie couldn’t just sit there and do nothing when the man desperately needed help. Jason Carver was an asshole, yes, but not even assholes deserve to go through something so traumatic like this alone.

Before he could think about it more, Eddie was on his feet, quickly making his way through the now crowded waiting room over to the Captain of the basketball team.

“Hey man, hey hey,” Eddie said with a gentle tone once he’d reached Jason, hesitating briefly before putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, everything’s gonna be fine, you just have to breathe through it. It’s shocking, I know, but try to breathe.”

It seemed ironic telling a dead person to breathe, but that was a train of thought for another time.

Jason’s head snapped up, eyes widening even more when he saw who was talking to him.

“Y-you!” Jason said, sputtering angrily. “Why, of all the-“

Then he stopped, his glare meeting Eddie’s sympathetic gaze. His face went blank for a few seconds before a look of dawning realization came over it.

“I-it wasn’t you…was it?”

Eddie slowly shook his head. Jason stared at him for a moment before a look of horror came over his face.

Death has a way of bringing someone clarity. They see what should have been obvious in life. It was one of those little twists the universe likes to throw at you when it’s too late to change anything or make it right.

“I-I,” Jason stuttered, a look of deep shame coming to his face.

It was at that moment Eddie found himself understanding Jason, too. Their pain and fear in life really hadn’t been much different from each other’s, but they were worlds apart socially and never would have seen that on their own. So, they hated each other instead.

Eddie waved off whatever apology Jason was trying to give.

“Water under the bridge,” he said. “It doesn’t really matter now anyway.” Eddie looked around at all the people occupying the large space and then gestured to all of them. “Henry Creel made sure of that.”

Jason looked at Eddie for a moment, then let his gaze sweep around the room. It was the first time he had really paid attention to the other people in the waiting room. His jaw dropped. Then he turned back to Eddie and got a really good look at him. He slowly looked him over, then back down at himself, before meeting Eddie’s gaze again.

“We didn’t survive the earthquake,” Jason said quietly. “Did we?”

Eddie shook his head, then went around to the back of the chair to start pushing Jason over to Admitting.

“Let’s get you in line for check in,” Eddie said, slowly navigating the chair through the crowded waiting room. “And I’ll fill you in as best I can.”

[myeuphoricmindset]

Haunted by you — Eddie Munson

↳ chapter seven

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six

Read on ao3

Summary | Eddie Munson's ghost is haunting the house recently occupied by Daisy Morgan. Having been deceased for years, Eddie becomes visible only to her. As she adjusts to sharing her living space with an otherworldly presence, their relationship develops into a compelling yet forbidden romance between the living and the dead. But, how could that ever truly work?

Warnings/tags | UPDATED: This chapter contains childhood abuse, drug use, mention of loss of parental rights, car accident and a damaged mother/daughter relationship. If you would like to skip Daisy's snippet of her backstory then skip ahead to the first page break. Full warnings here.

Word count | 4.2k

★

Small trembling hands clutch the steering wheel, Daisy’s wide-eyed gaze striving to find the road ahead. A sudden, forceful blow to the back of her head jolted her into action.

“What are you waiting for?”

Daisy hastily turned her attention to her mother in the passenger seat, who was busy lighting a pipe and inhaling. It was a disturbingly routine sight, one Daisy had grown accustomed to over the years. By the age of three, she had been taught to fetch the pipe and a lighter. Fetch like a dog, for that was how she was treated, or perhaps even worse.

Shifting the gear into drive, Daisy wedged her leg beneath her to gain a better view of the road. The street lights barely lit the way home, but she’s driven this route more than she can count. It still made her nervous, not because she was only eight and didn’t have a driver’s license, but because of her mother. 

“I’m going to make you walk home next time you do that shit.” Grace spit.

Daisy knew she wouldn’t. Her mother relied on her to drive, especially when securing her latest drug fix. It wasn’t until Daisy grew older that she overheard a social worker mentioning how Grace had taken her to her drug dealer’s house, forcing her to wait in a room filled with strangers and users while her mother obtained drugs. At a young age, she didn’t grasp the concept of a “dealer,” but she understood the discomfort she felt in that house. She knew that it was a bad place.

“You little slut, always batting your eyes at him,” Grace groaned in irritation.

Daisy didn’t comprehend. She made every effort to avoid eye contact with the man Grace associated with at that house. Her eyes were always downcast, and she did her utmost to remain invisible. It wasn’t her fault that he would gaze at her and attempt to engage in conversation while Grace used the bathroom. Her mother insisted it was her fault, that Daisy was trying to steal her man, sabotaging her connections. 

Young Daisy held back her tears as her mother hurled hateful words at her while she drove. It was all too easy to believe the cruel words coming from the person she was born to love. It must be true, she would tell herself when she was alone. Maybe she was worthless and stupid. 

Grace pinched her ear as she drove. “Do you even listen to me, girl?”

“Yes, mama,” Daisy replied, her voice trembling as she struggled to stay within the white lines on the road.

She twisted her ear in anger and Daisy held back her whimpering. She quietly exhaled as her mother removed her hand from her ear, a surge of relief washing over her. 

“Open your mouth.”

Daisy wished she could keep her mouth sealed, but she remembered what happened when she resisted. So she obediently opened her mouth, and the pill landed on her tongue. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she sensed her mother’s watchful eyes, and she swallowed.

Daisy regretted not speaking up to tell her mom it was too soon. The pill was always given after they passed Woodland Street, yet this time, they were still miles away. The sleeping pill usually would take effect just as they arrived home, a way for Grace to avoid dealing with her for the night so she could focus on her art.

It was too soon. Too soon. Daisy repeated that in her head, tuning out her mother’s rambling as she concentrated on the road. But the world outside began to blur, and Daisy felt her eyelids grow heavy. Keeping them open became increasingly challenging, and it didn’t take long before she fell into exhaustion.

Daisy couldn't recall the car colliding with the tree or her body being ejected from the vehicle, skidding across the unforgiving asphalt. Her memories consisted only of the moments in the hospital where the police and social workers posed questions. She remembered her mother’s shouts down the hallway, declaring she never wanted Daisy anyway when informed she would be taken away. Her physical injuries mended, but the wounds to Daisy’s heart and soul remained forever unhealed.

★

The sterile white walls, the incessant beeping of machines, and the sight of doctors in their white coats served as haunting reminders of her past, sending a shiver down her spine. It had been three long days since her admission, and the prospect of going home today filled her with gratitude. Her concussion had cleared, and only six stitches on her forehead bore witness to the ordeal.

Sloan, with a warm smile, placed clean clothes at the end of the hospital bed. 

“How’s the house?” Daisy asked.

How was Eddie? That’s what she really wanted to know. Did she see him? Of course not. Daisy was just so eager to see him. It’s all she’s been thinking about. Late last night, she had dialed the house’s number, hoping for Eddie to pick up, but it only rang and rang, each ring amplifying her anxiety.

Sloan reassured her, saying, “It’s clean, don’t worry.”

Oddly, that stirred conflicting emotions within Daisy. Perhaps a part of her craved proof that what had occurred on her birthday was real, not just her accident but what happened before it. She had no recollection of the fall into the pool. The last memory etched in her mind was telling Eddie to leave, a decision that had burdened her with regret since her awakening. She longed to see him, to apologize, to hear his voice. 

Daisy’s body ached, and she felt the soreness acutely as she dressed. Sloan stood close, ready to assist if necessary. Having someone there, offering support when needed, was a comforting presence, and Sloan was always the person Daisy could count on. She was well aware of Daisy’s unease about hospitals due to her past, and Sloan ensured they could leave as soon as she was cleared. 

Sloan even kept visitors at bay, aside from one person who Daisy welcomed. Steve had visited the previous day, apologizing and shouldering the blame for leaving her in the garden. Daisy had firmly asserted that it wasn’t his fault. He did nothing wrong. He was so kind and caring, and it made Daisy feel a little guilty about what happened. As if she had any control in it.

They had spent nearly half the day together talking. Despite their shared dance and kiss, it became clear that their connection was better suited to friendship. However, Daisy occasionally caught herself gazing at his lips and hands, promptly averting her eyes, thoughts consumed by Eddie.

Daisy expressed her gratitude to the nurse who wished her well upon departure. “Thank you so much; I really appreciate your help.”

Arm in arm, Sloan and Daisy strolled slowly through the hospital corridors. This time, she wasn’t leaving with a stranger bearing paperwork and sympathetic eyes but with someone she knew. Someone that was family.

“Love you,” Daisy murmured softly to Sloan, her way of saying thank you, and Sloan understood.

“I love you too,” Sloan replied, giving Daisy a gentle squeeze, mindful of her healing process. “How about we grab a pizza on the way home?”

Sloan’s words almost faded into the background as Daisy’s gaze fixated on someone standing at the nurses’ station. His name initially eluded her, but his curly hair and infectious smile were unmistakable.

“What’s wrong?” Sloan asked.

Daisy realized they had come to a halt in the middle of the hallway. Her attention remained fixed on the man who seemed captivated by a nurse behind the desk. He handed her a bag of food, making it apparent that she was his girlfriend or wife, visiting her at work. Daisy’s mind raced as she struggled to recall his name and why he seemed significant. Then, his name tag caught her eye: Dustin Henderson.

Daisy almost gasped but managed to contain it. “No, everything is fine.”

She tried to maintain her composure as they continued walking, but she couldn’t help glancing at Dustin. He knew Eddie, and he might know about Eddie’s past or what had happened to him. The image of their hellfire photograph remained in the forefront of her thoughts as she debated whether to approach him or go home.

Her eyes dropped to his name tag, not from the hospital, but bearing the name “Nexus Labcorp.”

“Do you know him?” Sloan asked, noticing Daisy’s fixation.

Daisy shifted her focus to her shoes, her voice faltering. “Uh, no. I thought maybe I did, but no.”

With that, Daisy and Sloan exited the hospital and made their way toward Sloan’s car. The sun’s warmth felt comforting on Daisy’s chilled skin, and the fresh air filled her lungs, rekindling a sense of life that had eluded her in the past three days.

She made a silent promise to herself, Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she will drive to Nexus and seek out Dustin. The questions about Eddie were gnawing at her, and the unresolved uncertainty couldn’t continue.

★

Daisy’s heart raced with nervous anticipation as Sloan steered them toward the house. Her thoughts swirled with questions. Could Eddie sense her presence? Did he know she was home? Her gaze swept over the property, searching every window for a glimpse of him, but there was no sign.As they entered the house, an oppressive silence surrounded them, even Sloan’s breathing was a faint whisper. 

Suddenly, there he was – Eddie, emerging from the kitchen, and his surprise mirrored Daisy’s own shock. They stood still, locked in a silent exchange, while Sloan set the bags down and spoke, her words lost in the background noise. Daisy wanted to run and jump in his arms, but she knew that was not possible. Never would be. 

Eddie approached her, his eyes wide with emotion. “Dais,” he uttered her name with a sigh of relief.

A tear rolled down Daisy’s cheek, and she couldn’t quite understand why she was overcome with such intense emotion. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew. It was all she could think about. Her feelings for him, the unfairness of the situation, how she’d asked him to leave when all she wanted was for him to stay, and how she had nearly lost her life without the chance to say goodbye.

“Are you okay?” Sloan’s voice broke the spell Daisy was under.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling a little…” She trailed off, a shrug and a shake of her head finishing her sentence. “It looks nice here, thank you for cleaning up.”

“Your head,” Eddie said with concern, brushing his finger over her stitches, a cold sensation sending shivers through her. She missed that touch, his familiar presence. “How are you? How badly are you hurt?”

Sloan wrapped her arm around Daisy before she could try to respond to Eddie. “Let me help you upstairs before I grab my bags.”

Daisy turned her gaze to Sloan. “Oh, are you staying?”

“Of course. I want to be here while you heal.”

“Tell her that I’ll take care of you,” Eddie added.

Daisy forced herself to focus on Sloan, striving to appear as normal as possible. All she wanted was to be alone with Eddie. Politely, Daisy insisted to Sloan that she was fine and suggested she head home. Sloan, however, refused to leave and guided her upstairs. 

Eddie and Daisy’s eyes met as she climbed the stairs. He smiled softly at her, but then something changed. Eddie’s smile faded, and he called out, “Daisy, wait.”

Daisy halted, her gaze locked on the empty living room. Eddie had vanished within the blink of an eye, and a sense of unease washed over her. She longed to call out his name, but Sloan gently urged her onward.

Something was amiss. Daisy knew it because Eddie remained absent throughout the evening. After Sloan left the room, Daisy called for him, but he never appeared. She ventured out of the room in search of him, but he was nowhere to be found. Why was he disappearing when she needed him most? Her desperation turned to hurt. Where was he? 

The drained pool mirrored her emptiness. Daisy perched at its edge as the sun set, but it felt all wrong without him. Perhaps he was in the garden, so she made her way to where they shared their first kiss.

“Eddie!” Daisy called out in a hushed whisper, not wanting to alarm Sloan. If she kept shouting, Sloan might think she was losing her mind and send her back to the hospital.

But she might think that regardless because when Sloan found Daisy, she was sitting on a stone bench and her face was wet with tears. Eddie wasn’t here and she’s never felt so alone. 

“Oh, Daisy, what’s wrong?”

Sloan sat next to her and wrapped her arms around her. It was comforting to be held when she was feeling this way, but all she could think about was how it would feel to be held by Eddie.

“I’m tired. Can you help me to bed?”

And Sloan did. No more questions were asked, and Daisy was thankful for that. She figured Sloan would assume she was right and healing was very exhausting.

As Sloan shut the door and the room was engulfed with darkness, Daisy whispered Eddie’s name once more. It came out broken and desperate. She glanced in the mirror hoping to see him and he would sit on the bed to begin telling a story. But he didn’t show. 

★

Daisy woke up with puffy eyes, still weighed down by exhaustion. Careful not to wake Sloan, she descended the stairs, leaving a note, and drove away from the house before the landscapers even began their morning routine.

With no sign of Eddie throughout the night and morning, Daisy felt an urgency to seek answers. Gathering information on where the lab was didn’t take her long, and before nine a.m., she found herself in the parking lot of Nexus Labcorp, hoping to find Dustin.

A brunette at the front desk greeted her with a warm smile. “Please, take a seat, and I’ll page him.”

The waiting room was colder than the outside, and Daisy was grateful for her sweatshirt. It didn’t take long before the curly-haired Dustin emerged, wearing a confused yet welcoming expression.

“Uh, hi. I’m Dustin. How can I help you?” 

Daisy stood, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Daisy.”

“Daisy? Nice to meet you. I don’t think we had an appointment scheduled today. Sorry for any confusion.”

“No, we didn’t. Um, sorry, this is kind of strange for me to show up here, and you don’t even know me, but is there a way we can talk?” Daisy hoped they could discuss somewhere more private than the waiting room.

“I don’t think I have much time; I’ve got a pretty packed schedule today. Can I ask what this is about?” 

Daisy hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Would it alarm him if she mentioned Eddie’s name? Were they close enough for him to know anything? Could this be a wasted effort? The questions weighed heavily on her. It was worth the risk. 

“It’s about Eddie Munson.”

Dustin’s face immediately shifted. His brows furrowed, and he glanced around the room before stepping aside and gesturing to a nearby door. “Come on back.”

They walked down a long hallway and entered an office near the back. Daisy didn’t know Dustin’s role at the company, but the numerous awards on the shelf behind his desk indicated his importance.

“Did you know Eddie?” Dustin asked as they took their seats.

How should she respond? Yes, but no? Not really. She knew Eddie better than most, yet not really at all. She was the only one who truly saw him—the only person in his life beyond death.

“Yes, we go way back.”

Go way back? She felt as foolish as she sounded.

“I guess he kept you private because he always talked about the pretty ladies he was dating,” Dustin said with a laugh.

Talked. Was. Did. All past tense. Daisy knew Eddie was gone, but it still hurt. She wanted to find out about his death, any unfinished business, and the reasons he might have left. Maybe he was trying to figure things out himself. Daisy didn’t know what she would do with the information, but she couldn’t stand the unknown.

“Well, I’m assuming you were both close. I’ve heard about you a few times.”

A lie. She rarely heard about people in his life, but she knew they were connected through his hellfire club, and that was enough to maintain the conversation.

“Did you? Well, yeah. I was more of an annoying little brother to him, but he always stuck around. Made sure I was doing okay. You know, showing up for the club and whatnot,” Dustin said with a smile, reminiscing about Eddie.

“Hellfire?” Daisy asked.

“That’s right. His pride and joy, aside from his music.”

Daisy smiled, eager to delve into the questions, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Should she ask how Eddie died, if anyone had issues with him, or if there were any loose ends? All the questions felt wrong, and she struggled to find the right words.

“Have you visited him?” Dustin asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Visited him?”

Does he have a gravesite? Daisy wondered. Maybe that’s where he was. Was he buried in Hawkins? The idea of his name on a tombstone made her feel queasy. His body was buried six feet under, while his soul was trapped in her house.

Dustin took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, I think visiting hours have finally opened back up.”

“Uh, no, I haven’t. Maybe you could remind me which cemetery he’s at. That’s actually why I came here. I didn’t find out about his passing until after I moved out of town, and I’d love to visit him.”

Dustin stared at her blankly, slowly tilting his head. “Cemetery? Who told you he died?” 

Daisy realized she’d said the wrong thing by the look in his eyes. Panic surged as she tried to figure out how to fix it. Before she could fully grasp the magnitude of her error, she blurted out the first name that came to mind – a name from the photo with Eddie, someone she knew Eddie and Dustin both had connections with.

“Gareth.”

Dustin chuckled, and Daisy jumped. Luckily, he didn’t notice, but he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me to laugh. But Gareth is an idiot sometimes. He probably meant it as a sick joke or maybe he’s that out of it, but he’s wrong. Eddie isn’t dead.”

Eddie isn’t dead. Daisy’s head spun, unable to process the idea. How was that possible? A million questions bubbled up, and her breath got caught in her throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Daisy stood up, clutching the chair for support. She swallowed, trying to muster some strength. “He’s n-not dead?” she asked again, seeking another confirmation.

Dustin stood, unsure whether to pat her back or give her space. He clearly felt uncomfortable and anxious. “No, he’s not.”

“Where is he?”

Dustin looked down and took a deep breath. “Oakridge Neurological Institute.”

“Neurological? Why is he there?”

Dustin sat down, glancing up at Daisy. “He’s not dead, Daisy. But he’s not really alive either.”

Daisy grew impatient, needing more answers as her chest grew heavy with concern. “What does that mean?”

“He’s in a coma. Has been for the past seven years.”

Daisy slumped back in her chair, feeling overwhelmed. She desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and process this information. Was this good or bad? It made sense, but it didn’t. She felt hope that she could see him and touch him, but that hope dwindled as she realized he hadn’t moved on because he was still partially alive. Daisy didn’t know how to feel about that.

Dustin continued, “Honestly, he should have been taken off life support a long time ago. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s painful for everyone to see him wasting away. He would have hated that. But his uncle can’t let him go. It’s sad.”

Daisy was deeply pained, struggling to hold back her tears. “How did it happen?”

“Did Gareth tell you it was a car accident? Because that’s true. Eddie would be pissed to know he totaled his van.”

She sat there, taking in the information and softly asked for the address. Dustin wrote it down and handed it over.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. The grief is hard to bear. He’s not dead, but he’s gone, and because the situation is unique, you can’t seem to find a good place to hold the pain. You can’t grieve and move on. I’ve been stuck in this limbo of sadness since I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry too,” Daisy said sincerely. Her pain deepened by the shared sorrow.

Daisy apologized for taking up his time and thanked him for providing the answers she was searching for. He was polite as he shook her hand and walked her to the door. Daisy clutched the piece of paper with the address on it. If Eddie wasn’t going to come to her then she was going to go to him. 

★

Daisy took a deep breath as she stood in the elevator with one of the staff members. The woman informed her that Eddie’s room was just down the hall as they stepped out into a bright, welcoming hallway. It felt different from a regular hospital, more long-term, a place for people who had nowhere else to go, where families couldn’t bear to let go. Daisy appreciated that someone cared so much about Eddie that they couldn’t release him, yet there was a profound sadness that surrounded the thought.

Taking another deep breath, Daisy tried to distract herself from crying by digging her nails into her palms. Eddie was right behind the door. Her heart raced as the attendant opened the door for her to walk in and then left her standing in the room, alone with Eddie.

She focused on Eddie’s feet at the end of the bed, tucked under the blankets, too afraid to look up. Slowly, she moved closer to him and found his hand, not touching it, but just looking at it. She was used to not being able to touch him, but now she could.

The beeping of the machines filled the room, providing a sense of focus, much like when she was a child in the hospital, alone and frightened. A reminder to breathe. Beep, breathe. Beep, breathe.

Finally, she lifted her gaze to find Eddie lying in the bed. The sight of the tubes connected to him and seeing him alive sent a rush of overwhelming emotions through her and she was unable to hold back her tears.

With immediate tenderness, Daisy took hold of his hand and whispered his name.

He was real. He was here.

He looked the same, so very beautiful. He had more facial hair and she thought about how she would tease him about that later. Telling him how he needs a woman’s touch within his care since his uncle had other things to worry about. Would she meet his uncle? Would she thank him for being able to have this moment with Eddie or would she tell him that this is the reason Eddie is stuck? Daisy pushed the thoughts aside and took a seat. 

“You’re warm,” she said as she pulled her chair closer to his bedside and tightened her grip on his hand. “Softer hands than I imagined, softer than Steve’s,” she added with a soft laugh.

Eddie lay there motionless, a painful sight of being able to see him alive yet not truly there. Daisy brushed the curls from his face and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Where are you?” Come back to me, she thought, then brought his hand to her face, kissed it, and pressed his hand against her cheek, closing her eyes.

“Eddie, please.” 

Just as she was lost in her emotions, the door creaked open, making Daisy jump at the sound. She turned her tear-filled eyes to see a beautiful blonde woman entering the room.

“Oh, hi,” the woman said, clearly taken aback by Daisy’s presence.

An uncomfortable atmosphere settled over the room as Daisy clung to Eddie's hand, her eyes still brimming with tears. It must have been an unusual and unsettling scene for a stranger. There was an uncanny familiarity in the woman's demeanor as she entered the room, suggesting she might have been here before.

Daisy stood up, wiping her face. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here. I’m Daisy.”

The blonde woman appeared somewhat concerned or maybe confused as she extended her hand to shake Daisy’s. Her eyes flicked to Daisy’s forehead where the stitches were on display. God, she was a mess.

“I’m Chrissy.”

As Daisy raised her hand to shake Chrissy’s, she froze upon noticing the stunning diamond ring on Chrissy’s left hand as she brushed back her hair.

Daisy’s stomach sank.

★ chapter eight coming soon ★

Fanart is currently being made for this series. I'm so excited to share.

Taglist:

@eddiemunson4life420@boxofsmittens@sweet-villain@all-time-otaku@steveoswhore@randomreader1999@erinekc@ficwrld@randomreader1999@deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth@ficswrld @tlclick73 @citychick86@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @erinekc @mandyjo8719 @sapphire4082

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[justsomerandomfanfic]

Spooky, Scary - (Ghost) Eddie Munson X Female Reader

Title: Spooky, Scary

(Ghost) Eddie Munson X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Vecna (Mentioned), and Steve and the gang (Mentioned very briefly)

WC: 1,315

Warnings: Mention of Eddie's death, slight angst, Eddie's sad, some references, confessions, and fluff

It was Halloween night and the air was crisp. The moon was full and littered with stars. The streets were lit by the light of streetlamps. There weren't many people out at this hour, but those who were walking down the sidewalks wore costumes. Some of them looked like they'd been put together quickly in a moment of inspiration while others seemed to be carefully planned. You, yourself, were dressed up for the holiday. For the third year in a row, you were going as Princess Leia from Star Wars: A New Hope. You had your hair in two buns on the side of your head, a white dress with a silver and white belt. Your brown boots completed the outfit nicely. Having been thrifted from Goodwill.

Heading home from trick-or-treating, you hurried home to get away from the cold chill of the air. Kicking off your shoes, you headed to your room. Dumping your bag on the bed, you started sorting your candy before dumping it back into your bed, you plopped down onto your bed, sighing with content. After eating some candy and watching an episode or two of your favorite show, you decided to practice on your electric keyboard for a bit before bed.

Sitting down on your small bench, you turned on the keyboard and started playing the Halloween theme song, just because. After finishing the song without many mistakes, you paused. Hearing clapping. Now, you'd usually welcome applause, if you weren't home alone.

Turning around, you were face to face with a young man. He was tall, long curly brown hair, big brown eyes. He was wearing black jeans and a leather jacket. His whole style screamed 80s. He was pretty cute, you had to say as well. But that all was normal except for the boy before you was floating off the ground.

"Um... Hello?" You said, trying to keep any tremor out of your voice.

He smiled at you warmly "Hello there! I'm Eddie." he said with a wave.

"Um... Hi, Eddie. What are you doing in my room?" You asked nervously.

"I'm kind of stuck here. If you haven't noticed..." He paused, looking down at himself. "I'm not really alive anymore. My old home used to be here until your house was built."

"Oh. Um.. I'm sorry. Um... I'm Y/N." You said, standing from your piano.

Eddie smiled sadly, "Nice to meet ya."

"Soooo..." You trailed off, sitting down on the edge of your bed. "You're a real ghost?"

Eddie nodded "Yup. And I've been haunting these halls since 1986."

Your eyes widened at the year, your jaw dropping slightly. "1986?"

Eddie nodded, floating over to float-sit on the bed beside you. "Yeah. What year is it? I haven't spoken to anyone in a while."

"2022." You exclaimed, flabbergasted.

Eddie's own eyes widened. "Wow. Okay."

"Well, Eddie. If I may ask... How did you die?"

Eddie smirked slightly, hiding the pain he was feeling, "Uh... You wouldn't believe me."

"If you don't want to tell me, that's alright. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." You muttered, wishing you could reach out and place your hand on his arm.

Eddie shook his head "No, it's fine. I just haven't told anyone before. Ummm... I was killed in a place dimension thing called the Upside Down by Demobats." He explained, making your furrow your eyebrows.

"What?"

"Demobats. They're sorta like creepy bat things with sharp claws and teeth. Totally not metal at all,” Eddie explained, waving his hands around briefly. "But Vecna is gone now, so they're gone. I think." He muttered, eyes wandering around your room.

"Wait, so you were killed by weird bats and you're telling me that this Upside Down is like some creepy another dimension?" You questioned, confused.

"Yes. Yes. It's like a parallel universe where everything goes wrong. All the time." Eddie explained.

You stared at Eddie, mouth agape before laughing nervously. "That's pretty weird. I'm sorry you died like that."

Eddie chuckled "It's okay. Well... I do miss being alive. I miss being able to eat things, smell things, and touch things. I miss my friends. But I don't regret dying." He said with a shrug.

"Mmm." You replied, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a bit before Eddie spoke up.

"Well!" He exclaimed, a smile on his face, which you had to admit to yourself, was quite adorable. "You asked me a question, so now it's my turn."

You fidgeted in your seat, turning slightly to the ghost boy, "Alright, what do you want to know?" You asked and Eddie hummed, pretending to think.

"Well..." He trailed off, "I want to know why you weren't scared of me. The last person I saw screamed and ran away." Eddie asked, looking at you curiously.

You chuckled, shaking your head "I don't really get scared easily And I consider myself strange and unusual."

Eddie huffed, flopping down onto your bed, "But I'm a ghost. That’s scary."

You shrugged, laughing lightly, "You’re not scary. And, well, before meeting you, I didn't know if I believed in ghosts actually." You admitted quietly.

Eddie's eyes widened, "Really? Then how did you explain how your brush moved from your desk to the bathroom?" He asked, surprised.

You looked over at him with wide eyes, slapping your hand on the bed with a soft thump, "That was you!? I knew I wasn't going crazy!"

Eddie grinned, nodding, "Yep! That was me." He said proudly.

You laughed, shaking your head "Well, thank you for letting me live my life normally." You said sarcastically, before speaking again. "So... Have you been haunting me this entire time I've lived here?"

Eddie huffed, sitting up, "Not entirely. I was mostly in the attic. But I come down here every once in a while. But, I didn't talk to you until now cause I thought you'd be scared of me." He muttered sheepishly. "I didn't want you to be scared of me."

"Oh..." You said softly.

Eddie nodded, "Yeah, and I'll be honest with you here... This may sound stupid, but I really like you." He said with a shy smile.

Your heart skipped a beat and you blushed, you weren't sure what to say in response.

"It must be weird hearing that. From a ghost." Eddie spoke, frowning slightly and looking down at your carpeted floor. "I mean... I've been here for sixty-four years, and I've never seen anyone as pretty as you. I only wish that I lived in this time. So I could talk to you. Gain the courage to ask you out or something."

You continued to stay silent, and Eddie continued, "I'm sorry I dumped all that on you. I'll go-"

"Eddie! Wait..." You called before he could disappear.

Eddie froze, and he glanced back at you, "Yeah?" He asked, nervous.

You smiled at him, feeling your face flush, "It's okay. It's a bit weird, sure, but I think you're adorable." You said softly, smiling at the ghost boy.

Eddie smiled happily, shocked by your response, "Adorable? Thanks." He said with a chuckle.

"And... I don't care if you're dead... We could just go on dates in my room or something, watch tv or play board games. People who are alive suck anyway." You laughed, placing your hand on his ghostly one on the bed.

Eddie's eyes widened, as did his smile before he took your hand in his. His smiling turned into shock as he held your hand in his.

"I can feel you..." He mumbled, eyes staring down at your hands.

You shuddered, nodding, "Yeah. You're cold."

Eddie gasped, "Oh! Sorry!" He said, dropping your hand, but you stopped him, taking his hand back in yours.

"It's fine, Eddie. The cold didn't bother me anyway." You chuckled, looking up at him as he smiled, confused.

"What?"

You shook your head, "Nothing..."

[kassifieddocuments]

Ghost Eddie AU (Part 1)

Steve feels like he's been here before. The soft grass under his feet actually kind of looking like those idealised cartoons. Almost too green. An all too perfect paradise that surely has something wrong underneath it.

"Harrington! What are you doing here?" Eddie looks up at him from where he's laying in said grass. "Kidding, I know. I was supposed to bring you here to tell you something, uh..."

Steve sits up, hardly daring to believe his eyes. "What –Eddie?!" He pulls the other both into a hug–the metalhead nerd he thought had died days about. But that brings him back to reality. "Wait, I thought you died? Are you alive? Or am I–" he cuts himself off, unable to say the last word but he knows the other young man will understand what he's asking.

Eddie sits back. "You're not dead, I'm not alive. If I were alive I'd probably have picked a better place to meet you than... This." He sighs. "Anyway, I had to bring some shitty prophecy from people who have been dead way longer, so if you wanna talk we should probably do it before all that?" He pats the grass next to him. "I don't know what the visitation allowances for dead people are, so this might be it."

Steve seems to deflate. "Oh. I knew you coming back would be too good to be true." he sighs sadly and sits down. Beginning to understand, Harrington nods then falls silent, waiting to hear the prophecy. He has a bad feeling about it but he has to hear it, whatever it might be.

The older boy nods. "Sorry, big boy. At least you'll have something to look forward to either way now." He grins, only for a moment.

Eddie sets a hand on the grass, perfect green quickly turning red and bloody. "Monster, forged in death. Blood will spill before your reign shall end. Innocent blood, hero's blood, royal blood. Rivers run red with the fallen, stars unable to give more than tears." He gasps, spreading red suddenly pulled back to the centre. It grows again when Eddie starts to leave, surrounding Steve. "You're not the monster. Just so we're clear." Eddie says, glancing back at Steve. That's all I really know."

Steve grins back and nods though he does let out a sigh in the end "I know. Still it would be better if you were back..."

The younger boy frowns as he listens to the prophecy, confused. None of them have royal blood as far as he knows... Unless it’s talking about Will as king of his "Castle Byers" fortress. The thought makes his stomach roll. The kid’s been through enough already as it is. But honestly even if it’s not him that prophecy doesn't sound promising.

Before he can say anything the dream begins to fade. He barely has time to wave goodbye before everything goes black.

It's still dark outside when he opens his eyes. Despite the dark clouds intercut with red lightning, the stars seem brighter than usual. With how many people left Hawkins, it makes some sense. Less light pollution or something.

He should probably go back to sleep. He's still tired.

Steve almost doesn't have time to finish the thought before sleep pulls him under again. The next morning though before he goes to work he lets all the kids know they need to meet up after work or high school because he has something to tell them. The minute his shift is over at the video store he heads over with Robin.

They rush to get to him, all wanting to know what happened. Will stands at the back of the group with El.

With Hawkins so empty, there's nobody listening in, at least not as far as they can see. It'll still probably be safer to head to his house.

So they do. The journey takes some time but once they arrive Steve gets right to it. He begins at the beginning by telling them all about his dream. When it comes to the part with the prophecy he’s careful to speak every line verbatim. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure the "royal blood" they’re talking about is Will. I mean the Upside Down already got him once and he’s the one who built the fort. He’s the king of Castle Byers."

Robin looks at him. "There's a lot to unpack there, but first let's fully assume that it's real because I don't think you're that much of a pessimist. There's a lot that "royal blood" could mean for our group. I mean, your high school nickname was "King Steve," for one." She rambles off. "And then there's the fact that it doesn't necessarily mean that it's going to be one of us."

Steve nods "True. I didn’t think it could be me but I guess so. And it didn’t even occur to me that it might very well mean someone else and it’s just trying to warn us of something that’s going to happen in Hawkins," he pauses for a moment, "but it seems like that would take too much time–figuring out who in our entire town has "royal blood" we still wouldn’t know which one was right. I mean there are probably a lot more than we’d think."

He sighs.

"Well, through the same logic that got you to Will, it could be Vecna himself if we consider him king of the Upside Down or something." Dustin says, sounding hopeful for the first time since everything happened. "Now, the rest. Because it sounds like something Eddie would actually scrap because he thinks it's too cheesy or something... I think it might be worth looking into. Stars crying, maybe it's going to rain a lot or maybe he just told us that the afterlife actually is that "dead people turn into stars" thing."

Steve shrugs "I don't know but we need to figure it out somehow and I'm sure we will before any of this happens. Look, I don't think it's coming any time soon so why don't we just sleep on it and think about this for a while then come back together when we have any ideas. Or anything happens. Okay? I doubt we're going to figure it out but tonight."

[hexiewrites]

i met your ghost (he followed me)

read chapter one on ao3

Steve Harrington was losing his mind. At least, he's pretty sure that’s what was happening, considering he kept seeing the ghost of a boy he let die, and it was starting to drive him actually crazy, in the Pennhurst kind of way. Except. Except he’d also always been a little bit gullible, always willing to jump into danger, to look at a situation that probably would be crazy and instead of turning and running, to drive right in. So instead of dealing with the ghost the way one probably should (which is to ignore it and maybe buy some holy water) Steve does the opposite. And Eddie Munson, who is pretty sure he is not a ghost, is, as always, really fucking glad he does. OR: Five times Steve sees Eddie's ghost, and one time he sees something different.

Chapter One

It started with a clenching in his gut.

Steve woke up too early that morning, something in his stomach twisting and writhing. He groaned a little into the pillow and pressed a fist down under his bellybutton. It wasn’t a ‘need to vomit’ pain, or a ‘the oysters were bad’ pain. And it was different than the pain in his sides, skin slowly knitting back together as his bat bites healed over. But it was definitely there, tight and aching under his skin, something new he couldn’t really name and didn’t really want to.

By the time he had gotten up and dressed and ready, fumbling through the buttons of the black shirt, making sure his shoes weren’t too badly scuffed, the pain had slid up and under his ribs and settled firmly in his chest. He kept taking deep breaths to make sure he still could, but it wasn’t in his lungs despite how much it felt like it should be. It was just there, something nebulous and uncomfortable, living under his skin.

keep reading here

[or: the eddie is a ghost but not quite fic that I’ve been working on for a little while now! don’t worry, this is a heavy dose of angst with a happy ending guaranteed! in today’s chapter: steve can have a little breakdown, as a treat]

[daybreaklynx]

I think we deserve to see steve have a breakdown in s5... is that too much to ask for

slightly lesser angst version..... sort of. eddie is not a ghost he's just trying to comfort his bf! they're both alive! ha! or something

base by pwobang on twt

[scarletv0id]

Eddie may be dead but he hasn’t been allowed to move on, and he’s finding it hard and hard not to scream about it. Especially when he sees the fallout of his actions.

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[ghosttotheparty]

i’ll still be here after daybreak 3

originally posted on twitter // also on ao3 // prev

it’s not necessarily that steve thinks he has a ghost. but over the past few years, he’s learned to not rule anything out. he’s never thought that his house might be haunted before.

he doesn’t remember any sort of paranormal experiences when he was kid; after all, his house was built just a few years before he was born, and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard of any kind of burials or anything on the land the house is on. of course, hawkins is haunted in a way.

but this is different. the lights never flicker in the house, he’s made sure to check. but things keep moving.

nothing important, really. honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if all his concussions are finally catching up and are just fucking with his memory.

but it’s weird. his hairspray bottles keep finding their way to the ground while he’s out, even though he places them away from the edge of his dresser. the photos on the surface are seemingly rifled through, spread like cards. his keys are moved across his bedside table one day as he’s getting dressed. and then the ring, eddie’s ring, is knocked off the table, and for a moment steve is pissed, protective and defensive and kind of territorial.

that’s how it starts, at least.

little things. items moving across tables, falling to the floor, only ever in his room. and then he can’t find his keys as he’s trying to leave, already running late. and he finds them under the table, like someone’s playing a stupid prank.

when he’s gone, it (whatever it may be) stays in his room. messes with his hairspray and photos, knocks aside his shoes, tugs his towel down from te back of his door. but when he’s home, it seems to follow him around.

it never does anything while steve is looking. while his back is turned, glasses will be moved across the counter, or the remote will be moved to the other side of the sofa, just out of reach. it’s rude, really, but steve can’t really help but be amused.

and then he’s filling a glass of water. he’s tired, just woken up but feeling oddly fine, and he doesn’t notice the water is still warm from washing the dishes last night. he sighs, preparing to lift his hand, to tip his glass over to empty it and start over.

and then the faucet turns. all by itself. as he watches.

he doesn’t move, watching as it turns slowly toward the blue, as the water gradually clears as it falls into his glass. he blinks blankly. until he realises that his glass is overflowing now, and he’s just been staring.

he reaches out and shuts the water off, holding the glass over the sink as he continues to stare at it. it’s filled to the rim, the shape of his fingers distorting a little as the water ripples. his hand is shaking.

and he feels like someone is watching him. looking. staring. waiting. it’s like the room has filled with a mist, a haze, like it’s gone thick as he just stands here and looks at the water in his hand.

‘…thank you,’ he says quietly, his voice rough with sleep.

and the air seems to clear. like it is satisfied. content.

steve suppresses a smile as he leans toward the glass, lifting it to his lips.

so he talks to it. he knows it seems fucking insane, talking to air, but it also just feels… fine.

he doesn’t tell anyone else. robin seems to notice that he’s been more fine lately, but she doesn’t ask any questions, like she’ll jinx it or something.

and maybe he should tell someone. maybe it’s upside-down related, and it could be an early signal of the end of the world, but it doesn’t feel like it. whatever it is, it feels nicer, somehow.

and steve doesn’t think he’s alone in thinking it; el seems to notice that something is off the next time she comes over for a movie night. steve stops when he sees her in the hallway, looking into the dark.

she looks confused. her head is tilted like she’s listening for something, like she’s a perplexed dog. her eyes flicker across the hall for a few moments before they stop, and she stares, her expression unreadable like it usually is.

‘el?’ steve says softly. she startles. ‘you okay?’

she looks back down the hall for a moment, seeming to hesitate, and then she smiles up at steve, her expression clearing.

‘i’m okay,’ she says lightly. ‘where do you keep your extra blankets?’

‘there’s no way you guys need more blankets,’ he says, ignoring the way the stone is his stomach hasn’t gone away. el looks at him like a puppy again, pouting just the slightest bit.

‘please?’

steve rolls his eyes fondly.

‘there’s a linen closet down the hall.’

she beams and skips away without turning on the light.

steve watches for another moment, hesitating. the hall bends to the right, and el disappears after a second. the others are all in the living room; he can hear them all, laughing and bickering and bantering, but the air feels thick again.

the light at the end of the hallway turns on, and he sees it seeping into the dark. he can vaguely see el’s shadow, and it’s still for a few moments before she moves, reaches up to grab blankets, holding them to herself and then setting them down.

steve shivers. he can’t bring himself to move. there’s a weight that’s settled on his shoulders, kind of like he’s being looked at again, but different. like el is being followed. like steve needs to stay, just in case.

it’s stupid, he knows. there’s nothing there. it’s just an empty hallway. but he stays, watches the darkness desperately, the sounds of the others having fun muffled into silence as steve stands. and waits. and watches.

until el comes back, startling steve as she appears suddenly.

she’s carrying a pile of folded blankets, and she looks at him over them, eyes shining brightly, half-smiling.

‘are you okay?’ she asks lightly. he blinks.

‘uh, yeah.’ he glances back down the hall. the light is still on. ‘you got everything you need?’

‘yes. joyce says i like to be bundled up.’

‘i know you do,’ steve says. he reaches to wrap an arm around her shoulders and tugs her toward the living room, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the light at the end of the hall turn off.

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[mcntsee]

me when i get asked why i suddenly dislike a character (i can’t tell them it’s because i read a fanfic where said character made y/n’s life miserable and now i have personal beef with them)