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candied-cae · 1 year

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And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - The Best Welcome Party

Chapter 14/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 11,681

Summary: With Eddie conscious for the first time since "the earthquake," a lot has to happen. Notably, he needs to be questioned by the Hawkins Police. But, of course, there may just be a little bit to check on before they deal with that responsibility...

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At Steve’s house, everyone was still milling around after he and Lucas left. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair still had a lot of stuff they needed to wrap their head around, and Nancy and Robin were feeling a little stir-crazy in the busy house, so they got an idea. They could run back to their houses, take showers, get changed, and then take off to ask the drama and band directors for their statements on Eddie.

Which would both get them out of the stressful atmosphere of Steve’s living room and give them something to do. And having something to do about how hopeless everything felt seemed to be the only way to get through it.

So, the two of them stuck around just long enough to make Hop sit down with them and agree to be a source. And to grab a couple of quotes so it’d sound like his words, and if anyone bugged him about it he knew what to say. A little bit here about “All kids find their own outlets for rebellion, I’ve pulled over almost every student who’s gone through that high school at least once since I’ve been here.” A line to specify “But Eddie Munson’s never been a very big thorn in my side. Can’t see him having done all this without a good motive. Which nobody’s been able to find.” And then they just rounded it out with a note about circumstantial evidence and there not being enough of anything to make sense to pin it on him. All according to a guy who used to be the city's chief of police.

Then they were able to drive off for their next steps, Nancy obviously the one behind the wheel and dropping Robin off before she went back to her place.

When Nancy got back to her house her dad was, thankfully, back at work. So it was just Holly and Amber sitting around a plastic tea set in the living room while Amber’s mom watched the news. She was able to head right on upstairs without much fuss.

But, while it didn’t take long for Nancy to take care of her own business, Robin had a bit more of a headache to deal with.

Her mom was again not happy she ran off, but it was easier to settle her down when Robin had her call Steve’s house and a parent answered. Joyce had confirmed that there had been chaperones there all night, and there were a whole bunch of them over, not just Steve and Robin alone. As if that would’ve meant anything anyway. But one phone call later and she was able to slip away and clean up so she could get to her plans with Nancy.

When she climbed out of the shower, however, she was interrupted by her mother calling for her.

“Robin!”

The girl was squeezing a towel around the ends of her hair to pull the water out - she hadn’t washed her hair, but the ends got damp anyway - and she yelled back,“ Uh, yeah?”

“You’ve got a call!”

Robin considered trying to run to the wall phone half-dressed or letting her mom try to stall with small talk as she pulled on her jeans. She decided she didn’t really like either option,“ Just tell Nancy I’ll be ready for pickup whenever she gets here!”

“It’s not a Nancy!” Theresa said from the kitchen as Robin reached for her shirt,“ It’s a Vickie!”

And all at once, she felt her heart jump to her throat. She threw on the shirt, haphazardly yelling,“ I’ll be right there!”

Once she got the article over her head, she yanked it down and barreled out of the bathroom. Quickly stealing the phone from her mother’s hands and turning the corner away to be further away from her mother’s listening ears.

“Heeyyy…” She started. But, no way, that sounded so awkward. She coughed and tried again,” I mean, hey. Hey, Vickie. How are- How are you?”

“Hi, hi, and hi to you too, Robin,” she said with a light fluttery giggle that made Robin’s heart seize again,” I’m good. And you are?”

“Good! I am good also.”

Robin was failing at this, right? She was failing at their first phone call. She was all jumpy, and too excited, and not saying words in the right order, and she had to sound so ridiculous-

But she pushed through it anyway. Digging her nails into her palm to try and keep herself from getting all high-pitched from the nerves, she said,” So, uh, how’d you… track me down?”

“Looked you up in the phone book. There aren’t any other Buckleys in town, you know.” Vickie said it like it was obvious.

Because it kind of was. It was how Robin would’ve found Vickie’s number if she had felt so bold. Maybe if she and Steve had been able to find an hour alone, he would’ve built her up to it. But receiving the phone call felt pretty great too.

“Yeah, yeah.” Robin confirmed the very normal behavior,” So, did you need anything or- or what had you calling little ol’ me today?”

“I, um, sorta thought we could hang out? It was fun spending time with you at the high school the other day, and I’d like to do it some more. Unless you didn’t think it was fun and, instead, I’m just the kind of girl who’s nice for company when there’s literally no one else to talk to, and in that case, I’ll just hang up, and we don’t have to talk about this-”

“No!” Robin leaped in to correct Vickie’s unfounded concern,“ No, no, no, I do not think that. I would like to hang out. With you. Too. I had fun on Saturday too. So, yeah, I’d really like to make some plans to spend time together again.”

And there was Vickie’s cute little fluttery giggle again,“ Cool. Um, I know things are still sort of crazy in town, but my parents would give me the keys to the car if you wanted to come up with an errand to run or something, and we could get some lunch after?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’d love to- like to do that-”

Calm down, Robin, don’t freak her out.

And, just as Robin was taming her excitement, she remembered she was already expecting a girl to come by,” Oh, yeah... I kind of had plans to help Nance with something…”

Vickie got a little quieter,“ Oh, well, we can raincheck if you want to-”

“No! I, um… actually, if you wanted to help, we were going to talk to Mr. Thompson.”

“The band director?” the girl asked.

“Well, him and Ms. Reynolds. We wanted to get, like, a statement on Eddie’s character from them. See if they had anything nice to say for an article about how he didn’t do it.”

“Oh,” Vickie said it like she was trying to understand the idea. And that made sense. She wasn’t on the inside team, so she didn’t know everything they did. Didn’t know Eddie that well. She’s just been knee-deep in rumors the whole time.

So Robin supplied,“ Which, by the way, he didn’t. It’s a long story, but we were with him pretty much the whole time, and it was actually Jason! Not Eddie, and-”

“Jason? Jason Carver?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s a long story, and I can tell you some more about it later, but Eddie really is innocent. I swear. Thing is, even when he wakes up and can explain everything to get the police to drop the charges, a lot of people probably won’t believe it. They’ll say stuff about how he got away with it and make his life a living... nightmare," she barely caught herself from saying 'hell'. A mistake she usually didn't have much trouble avoiding, but she was just so focused on Vickie that she almost missed it," Anyway, Nancy wanted to write something for the school paper to help show people he’s a good guy.

“And he is? A good guy, I mean.” Vickie still asked, though she was beginning to sound like she believed it.

“Yeah. He is.” Robin asserted,” And, since we’re both in band, if you wanted to come, we could probably divide and conquer faster. We can check with Mr. Thompson, and she can go to Ms. Reynolds. So that could be our errand and then get some lunch after.”

“Then, yeah, I’d love to help. You sure Nancy will be okay with me just kinda hijacking you at the last minute?”

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’ll just let her know what’s going on, and we can all meet up after to share notes.”

“Sounds good. You want to get together now, or do you want me to head over later?”

“Now’s fine. I just got done getting ready to head out with her anyway, so I am all good to go. I can give you the address-”

“It’s in the yellow pages right below the phone number.”

Robin nodded to herself,“ Yes, of course, it is, duh. Then I will see you in a few.”

“See you then, Robin.”

“Bye, Vickie.”

Robin bit into her bottom lip under her wide grin as she hung up the phone. It took everything in her to not stomp around her feet to get all the joyous energy out. Her cheeks were probably bright pink, and her hair had to be a mess, and she’d have to be sneaky to throw on some mascara and her favorite rings before she got out the door if she wanted to look even a little put together.

But it was Vickie. It was Vickie inviting her out for the day. It almost actually sounded like a date. And Robin dared to consider that Vickie’s voice and tone seemed like she knew how it sounded...

Which was insane. She still never thought the chance was real. Even after they volunteered together, and Steve tried so hard to hype her up, she was half-convinced that nothing would come of it besides his false hope. But it was real. And now she had something to work for.

And it was still scary.

But she tried to focus on what Steve told her between all his insisting that Vickie really liked her.

“Be yourself, and all that junk.”

Robin’s own advice thrown back at her. So Robin was just going to have to try to focus on being herself. And all that junk.

Worst-case scenario, she’ll at least be able to tease Steve about the fact that his idea was ridiculous and didn’t work. Which felt like a security blanket, honestly. At the end of the day, if the whole thing went horribly, she'd still find some way to laugh about it with her best friend...

“What was it?” her mother asked from around the corner where she had been reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee that they both knew was mostly creamer.

Robin poked her head over to look at her and attempted to settle herself to answer casually,“ Oh! Vickie’s just gonna help me and Nance with something! We’re going to head out in a bit and ask the band teacher a few questions.”

“The band teacher? Mr. Thompson?” Theresa asked folding and setting down the paper on the kitchen table as she leaned back in the chair.

But even Robin could tell her mother must have done everything she could to eavesdrop. Probably sat so still that the chair didn’t squeak, didn’t drink from her mug so she could listen, and held the paper in loose fingers so it didn’t crinkle the whole time... So she already knew all about what she was asking about. Why they needed to play around it, Robin never understood, but they did. It’s what they did. If they didn’t - if Robin tried to skip the unnecessary explanation - it would turn into a conversation about her manners.

So, instead, Robin confirmed,“ Yeah, Mr. Thompson,” and waited for the next question.

“What do you girls need him for?”

“Well, Eddie was in the school band for a few years. Didn’t do pep band or anything, but Mr. Thompson should still know him.” she clarified,” So we wanted to see if he had anything nice to say about him for an article on Eddie’s innocence. Make sure he doesn’t get mounted on a stake in the town square the minute the police unlock his cuffs.”

Her mother nodded along and took another sip of her coffee,“ Alright. Make sure you’re home tonight or tell me ahead of time if something changes. Before it gets dark out so I know I don’t need to worry.”

“I will, Mom.”

Her mother began to pick back up her newspaper and held out an open hand. The signal Robin always returned by blowing a kiss that she’d pretend to snap her hand around and pat into her chest. Which was another comfort. That was also their thing. Besides any tenseness or misunderstandings, once things settled Robin’s mother would always silently ask for a kiss. And Robin would always send one her way.

And just as Robin was bounding back to the bathroom to brush out her hair and try to doll herself up, at least a little bit, the doorbell rang.

“Wow, Vickie must’ve been pretty close,” Theresa commented from her newspaper.

But when Robin opened the door, it wasn’t Vickie on her front doorstep, but Nancy.

Nancy lit up when she was met with the other girl, a light bounce on her feet that had her curls spring on her shoulders,“ Ready to go?”

“Oh, Nance….” Robin said as she realized she didn’t even have time to try and call ahead to let her know about the change in plans.

“Yes?” Nancy’s eyes brows quirked, and her smile went a little nervous,” Should I be hurt by that reaction?”

“No! Um, I just got a call from Vickie,” she began to explain.

Though, just that on its own didn’t mean much to Nancy.

“Vickie?”

“Yeah! She wanted to help out with the teachers.”

“She did?” Nancy asked.

She found that a little hard to believe, considering the two of them only just got the idea the night before themselves. How did Vickie Nelson hear about it, and why does she care all that much? Clearing Eddie’s name was their business. Not hers.

But Robin just simply smiled back,“ Yeah! So I thought it’d be faster if we split up! She and I could scope out the band director - since he already knows us so well - and you can take care of Ms. Reynolds with no problem. And then we can share the info later and see how useful any of it might be.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

Nancy wasn’t trying to seem sour about it. She wasn’t trying to guilt trip her or make a big deal out of it. Robin had seemed all cheery about the idea, Nancy didn’t want to rain on her parade. So she pulled herself together and snapped out of whatever funk she slipped into a moment ago.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Just- here, take the questions we drew up last night. I’ll write myself a new copy, and we can get together later,” Nancy tore out a sheet of paper from her notebook and handed it over.

“Yeah, I’ll just be one walkie-away if anything comes up!” Robin nodded, accepting it with her easy-going grin still splayed across her face.

“Well, have fun,” Nancy wished her well as she began to turn back to her car.

“Thanks. You too!” Robin threw over her shoulder as she closed the door and was gone.

Okay. That stung.

The whole interaction stung.

Which was weird. Shouldn’t have really stung that much. Nancy and Robin were just new friends. Robin had other friends. It was fine. Maybe Nancy was just kind of put off since they made plans together, and now Robin was dropping them off for someone else. Yeah, anyone would be annoyed by that.

Yeah.

But either way, Nancy packed herself back into her car and breathed for a minute. Got her new notes jotted down. Then she saw Vickie park across the street. The other girl stepped out of the car. Looked around and sort of shook out her arms. Like she was nervous or something. But then she set her eyes on Robin’s front door and walked forward with a kind of determination Nancy supposed she’s worn when she was chasing a good story. Vickie made it up the steps and rang the doorbell, turned around, and shook out her arms again when she locked eyes with Nancy.

She froze. Her eyes were wide, her arms hanging off her a little awkwardly as she just stared back at Nancy in her station wagon. Like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

Nancy pulled her expression into a tightlipped smile. Something simple and polite but not exactly totally friendly. She was still a little annoyed about getting dumped- more like bailed on. Yeah, bailed on. But she gave a little wave anyway, and Vickie unfroze to wave back, wearing her own nervous smile.

And then the door opened, and Vickie spun around without hesitation. So Nancy started the car and drove off before she got a good look at Robin in her doorway again.

She had work to get to.

Robin and Vickie would climb into the Nelson’s hatchback and find Mr. Thompson, while Nancy picked up Jonathan to go with her for Ms. Reynolds.

The pair of girls took off for their director’s house and found themselves gigging a lot to the radio. Their music taste didn’t perfectly match up, but there was some notable overlap that they found entertaining for the drive. Vickie complimented Robin's jewelry, she did end up having just enough time to slip some on along with a coat of mascara before her doorbell rang again. Robin absolutely blushed and complimented Vickie. Said she liked the pale teal spirals she wore before, but the dangling green diamonds were great too.

When the drive was done, and they'd actually arrived to talk to Mr. Thompson, he had good things to say. Which was a real relief to Robin.

Turned out Eddie’s not only been in band since middle school, but he’d even stay after school for extra lessons when he was picking up guitar. Mr. Thompson had liked the kid. He was the kind of music student that every teacher wants to teach. The kind that loved it and had a knack for the ability. From piano to guitar, Eddie loved music with an intensity that most people never did. Loved it through his first senior year. He ended up not coming back in ‘84, even though he was still at the high school. Thompson had tried reaching out, but Eddie seemed different when he did.

Just said he had too much on his plate - his own band and trying to make money to help his uncle - and walked away.

Mr. Thompson let it go. He had other students to worry about.

But Eddie Munson, that was a good kid who loved music, even if he liked to find ways to play that weren’t entirely classical or conventional. Mr. Thompson remarked about some combative behavior sometimes. But it was more usually aimed at the other students when Eddie felt like they weren’t trying at all or didn’t care, less so at the director himself. At the end of the day, Mr. Thompson wondered what had happened to him when he stopped seeing Eddie loiter in the band hall, but he was never very sold on the idea that he had turned into a killer after less than two short years since they last spoke.

And the statements helped Vickie see Eddie as the good guy who was thrown into a bad situation that Robin knew he was.

The other pair were having a less fun time. Nancy was still wound up, and she wasn’t really sure why. Which only pissed her off more. Jonathan had something to say but didn’t want to spring it on her while she was in a bad mood. Not that it was the kind of news that should be used to ruin a good mood either…

Jonathan was in trouble. Really, really in trouble. He couldn't procrastinate for a few months again, but it was so much harder to say something when he was actually sitting next to her.

It was a quiet drive on their end.

Then they met with the teacher. Who also had pretty good stuff to say about Eddie. Turns out drama teachers usually couldn’t care less about “conventional”. Ms. Reynolds said she was always partial to more experimental fine arts anyway. And Eddie was loud and passionate in classes, that’s the sort of stuff that thrived in drama departments and drove creativity. He had presence and theatrics and was always paling around with Jeff in the back of her classroom. It was also apparently Eddie that had roped Gareth into helping out with set construction for the musical they just put on. And Josie was in the orchestra pit while Bruce helped with lights. Seemed all of Corroded Coffin had come together in her department at one point or another.

Which is how it had been so easy to convince her to sign off on letting them use the drama room for their Hellfire meetings anyway.

Their little crew was still a little divisive with some of the other drama kids. Their dark clothes and leather and metal set them apart. But Ms. Reynolds always liked them. Always appreciated the way they were willing to do whatever to help. And Eddie was the core, or leader, of that.

She had a few good things to say about the kid. He was weird, but unapologetically himself. And she was happy to go on the record that, as wild as he was, she believed that he didn’t do it.

All in all, Robin and Nancy’s mission could be considered a success.

Even if they didn’t do it together.

Now, Eddie himself was in a state of confusion.

He was still sort of reeling from the fact that Steve had been there at all. Steve Harrington had been there. Sat in the chair at his hospital bedside wearing stupid, boring jeans and a dusty, red sweatshirt like it was the most casual thing. The chair didn’t even look very comfortable. But Steve sat in it, more than once he sat there for a few hours and- that’s so weird.

Eddie wasn’t making it up, right?

He wasn’t going crazy from demobat rabies, right?

Steve had been there.

Right?

It was… it was just so weird.

Freaky, one could even say.

Yeah, they’d gotten mixed up in the same problem recently. But to come back for him, to sit at his bedside while he lay unconscious… It wasn't “right.” Didn’t make sense in the world Eddie Munson came from, even if he was starting to accept that place was long gone.

Steve… Steve Harrington was an enigma. For all four of Eddie’s years that they shared at high school together,

Steve Harrington was an enigma.

Even in Steve’s freshman year, he was the talk of the town. Good looking kid, with passable grades that were more easily accepted when everyone saw how he did in competitive sports. He was doing it all. Basketball, Baseball, Swim Team. And on top of that, his folks had crazy money and this big house he could sometimes swing parties at. He was adopted into the top dogs faster than anyone had ever seen.

In his sophomore year, he found his footing. Started to know exactly how he was fitting into things and how to take charge even though he was still an underclassman to most. Started to solidify the group of kids he hung out with along the upper crust. Started getting swarmed by girls. A whole slew of rumors were buzzing around after that about all the babes he was shmoozing between classes.

Though, his junior year might've been the height of it. He seemed like he was soaring in those days. Just basking in the awesomeness of everything in his life going right for him. And then he bagged little miss perfect. And then something happened to him before winter break. And he fell out with most of his old buddies. Focused a little harder on his classes. Fell into place wherever Nancy was.

And then his senior year was like watching him get snuffed out. All at once, he’d lost pretty much everything, except for his girlfriend. And then more shit happened just before winter break… and Steve Harrington didn’t even have that anymore. So he coasted by until he was out. Just sort of kept his head down and managed his social standing without some of the… previous assholery he was a part of. Even if Eddie didn’t believe it at the time. Kept trying to be a big man on campus, but most of his moves fell flat until he quietly graduated. And that was that.

And then… next time Eddie saw Steve up close, he was pushing him against the wall of his dealer's boat house. Trying to come to terms with all the truly insane stuff Henderson was telling him, Steve just nodded along. Then Eddie was fighting for his life alongside him, a fight he was pretty sure he’d lost. But he didn't. And Steve stuck around.

Freaky.

And that’s coming from “The Freak.”

But Eddie didn’t have much longer to dwell on it, because a slightly timid voice spoke from his doorway,“ Eddie…”

And looking over to see - instead of a nurse - one of his own little Hellions, his mouth open up into a wide smile instantly,“ Lucas! How’d you get here so fast? Harrington just left.”

Lucas took his bright expression as a sign to come on further in, so he took steps forward as he made his way to the chair Steve had previously occupied,“ I was just across the hall. I’ve been spending time with Max whenever I can.”

“Ahhhh…” Eddie nodded sagely, as if he wasn’t still playing catch up on what exactly those two had going on,” So, what’re you doing over here on my side then?”

“Wanted to see you up,” Lucas answered simply as he took his seat.

“Wish I could give you a show. I’d do a flip for you if it weren’t for these beauties.” Eddie teased with a jingle of his cuffs against the bed rail.

And then Lucas’s face went something sadder as he carefully asked,“ … so you’re really okay?"

Eddie shrugged, hoping it’d ease the kid a little. He looked kind of nervous for some reason,“ Yeah, man. I guess. I’m a little tender all over, but I’ll be fine. Not planning to abandon you kids any time soon. You’d all make a mess of my club if I didn’t finish up business myself before graduation.”

Eddie ended his line with a light chuckle, but Lucas didn’t respond. He looked a little gone, like his mind was elsewhere. And maybe Eddie should’ve assumed he was thinking about Max next door, but for some reason, he just had this nagging feeling that it was something else.

“Hey, you alright, Sinclair?” he wondered, letting his tone dip a little softer than he usually used it.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s nothing.” Lucas tried to shake his expression off, but Eddie saw it. And then it clicked.

Oh.

Hellfire.

One of the last things Eddie did before his whole world changed, was exclude Lucas from Hellfire. And things have been so unbelievably crazy the entire time since that day that… he completely forgot.

Shit.

He was a bad friend on Friday, and he hasn’t said anything to Lucas about it.

“I’m sorry, Lucas.”

And Lucas flinched back into himself. So surprised by the out of nowhere apology he had to sit up and try to joke,“ For being in a coma? I know you didn’t do it on purpose-”

“No. For Hellfire,” Eddie corrected,” I’m sorry you weren’t at the last game.”

“Oh,” Lucas seemed to be struggling to figure out what to do with the words that he just moved to brush them away,” I… it’s fine. I was busy at the championship-“

Eddie stopped him from acting like it wasn’t a big deal,“ Lucas. Would you just let me apologize to you?”

And Lucas was tense and quiet for a minute. But eventually, he let out a breath and sat back deeper into the chair,“ Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie started it seriously. Let the words sit on their own for a second before he tried to explain himself.

“It feels silly now to think about how worked up I was on Friday. Okay? Like, there are way bigger things than me just wanting stuff to go the way I planned. And… at the end of the day, I wanted you to be there. I know you’ve been juggling Hellfire with basketball, and we usually made it work, but then Hawkins unexpectedly qualified for the big tournament, or whatever, and… I don’t know. I got pissed. I've always hated the basketball guys. Felt like you were different from them- and you are, for the record. You’re different than them in all the best ways. But I got disappointed when I thought about you being with the cool crowd instead of the freaks. Made me feel like you were rejecting us, or leaving us behind for popularity…”

Lucas was shaking his head,“ That’s not-“

“I know,” Eddie told him anyway,” I know that’s not something you’d do, Sinclair. I was just making myself mad when I could’ve been going about it another way. I’ve got a few faults, and quick to anger is one of ‘em. It was cool and all meeting the littler Sinclair - don’t get me wrong - but I do wish you’d been with us for the end of the campaign. And most of the reason you couldn’t be was my fault because I was being stubborn. So I’m sorry. Really.”

And Lucas looked so much lighter in that chair after Eddie was done. Like some secret fear he’d been harboring since Friday that Eddie hated him was just run off. He even looked a little misty-eyed as he brought back his smile.

“I forgive you,” he said, though after a moment. It took him a bit to realize Eddie was waiting for it.

And then Eddie smiled back at him,“ Thanks. Was it a good game at least?”

Well. That astounded the boy.

“You want to hear about my game? You? Eddie Munson? A basketball game?”

Eddie tossed his head side to side like he was mulling it over,“ Well, maybe skip all the boring sporty bits and just tell me the highlights. Final score and stuff. But yeah, tell me about it.”

“Well, um,” Lucas shifted a little closer as he tried to remember how it all happened now that it felt like forever ago,” We’d been kinda neck-in-neck with the last team all night, the Falcons. They’d score, we’d score, we’d score some more, they’d even it right out. It was back and forth the whole game. And then Adam got knocked down… so they pulled me off the bench.”

“Wait a minute, you're saying you actually made it on the floor?” Eddie noticed, which made Lucas light up a little brighter. Now more confident that Eddie was actually interested in listening to him talk about his game.

“Yeah.”

“Ain’t that the first time that’s happened all year?”

He let out a soft chuckle,“ Yeah. It was.”

“You’re kidding…” Eddie leaned back and shook his head, remembering all the times his freshman would complain to each other at the lunch table about Lucas not getting to do anything worth watching.

“Well, if you’re impressed by that, how do you feel about hearing that I made the buzzer beater that won the whole thing?” he tempted.

And then Eddie’s attention shot back up to him,“ What?”

“We were down by one point, just the one, and there were ten seconds left on the clock. Jason tried to make the shot, but the ball hit the rim and bounced off. And I was the one who caught it. I just- It was just in my hands, and I dove out of the huddle, and… there wasn’t any time to think about it. So I took the shot. And it spun around the rim, jumped back out, and hit the backboard, but then it sunk. We won. We beat ‘em, 70 to 69.”

“That’s… that’s incredible, Lucas.” Eddie sounded dumbfounded. He really wasn’t a sporty guy, but even he could picture it. He wasn’t dumbfounded out of confusion, he was just that amazed.

Lucas got a little bashful,“ It was just-“

“No. No, that’s really cool, man,” and then the realization hit,” And we stole your sister so she couldn’t cheer you on…”

“Yeah… I was a little mad about that,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry about that too. You shoulda had someone there.”

“I wasn’t alone. The team practically paraded me around. And Steve was there in the audience. Robin was with the band. Even Nancy was there for the school paper. They cheered pretty loud when it happened.”

He sighed a little wistfully,“ I wish I saw it too.”

And, well, Lucas knew Eddie was trying to make up for everything, but that had to have been an outright lie.

“You hate basketball.”

“Yeah, I do. But I like you, kid. You’re one of my little freaks, and it would have been nice to see you do something that cool. Watch the whole school cheer you on even though you’re a nerd like the rest of us in Hellfire.”

And that…

‘You’re one of my little freaks’

It did a lot for Lucas. He’d honestly been a little scared the whole time that the game would be the final straw. The thing that set him away from Hellfire completely. Until the club became something only Dustin and Mike got to be a part of. But Eddie still thought Lucas was one of his.

He wasn’t getting thrown away.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he finally said when he didn’t think his voice was going to crack.

“Thank you for letting me in on a little of it. Even though I was a dick on Friday.”

The boy tried to walk that back,“ I wouldn’t say-”

“You can say it. One-time free pass since I’m admitting my shortcomings and humbling myself right now.”

And so, through a warm laugh, Lucas agreed,“ Okay, yeah, you were kind of a dick.”

“Thank you,” Eddie laughed a little with him,“ Now, tell me something about this plan Harrington mentioned. Wanna make sure I’ll be able to play my part well.”

Lucas ran over the bare bones with him. Just spent enough time on it that Eddie would know what to say, and then he called a nurse in. Eddie played like he was a little loopy for a few minutes to pass as him off as having just woken up. She checked his vitals and then called in a doctor who told that same nurse to get on the phone with the police department and Eddie’s uncle.

That was when they kicked Lucas out and sent him back across the hall. To make sure the cops wouldn’t have any arguments about the honesty of his interrogation. They really underestimated this Party, if only they knew.

By the end of it, people were on the way and Eddie was getting worn out. Turned out it was hard work waking up from a coma and socializing. He’d fallen back asleep before anyone new arrived at the hospital, but the next time he woke up someone had arrived.

It was Wayne. His wrinkled uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne, who just looked so exhausted with his eyebrows pinching together, carefully watching Eddie’s hand held within his. Wet eyes that didn't move or blink as he waited to see his boy come back to him.

So Eddie squeezed it and groaned out,“ Hey, old man.”

And the familiar sound of Wayne’s worn and lovingly gruff chuckle was like the sun after such a god-awful week. He took back one of his own hands to wipe under his eyes for a moment before putting it back and smiling at him,” There he is. The man of the hour.”

“Here I am.” Eddie smiled back at Wayne from under sleepy eyes.

His uncle squeezed his hand tighter,“ I got real scared there. Thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

“Aw, Wayne, you know you can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m still your problem just like I’ve always been.”

“No, never been a problem,” he corrected.

“Now, I know you’re getting too sappy and lying to me. I am nothing if not a headache.”

Wayne cracked a deeper smile and leaned in closer to brush his hand gently over Eddie’s dark curtain of hair.

“I’ll take the headache, kid.” He told him as he rested his thumb on his nephew’s cheek.

Which was such a Wayne thing to do and say. He was a man’s man. Working with his hands and watching westerns on his days off. That's the kind of classic man he was. They didn’t get all mushy on one another very often. It was an unspoken but entirely understood thing, that they loved each other.

But that line was such a Wayne way to say it.

And then Wayne mentioned,“ You know, you didn’t didn’t get to tell me how the story went.”

“The story?” Eddie wondered for a moment.

“The one you were finishin’ up on Friday. With the big twist surprise you were settin’ up for those kiddos.”

“Oh.”

Because, of course, Wayne would bring up his DnD campaign.

Eddie told him about every single one.

He never bothered with giving him stats or explaining the different dice rolls and how that all worked, but he would practice the story with him. He’d share the bits he’d assume Hellfire would work through during that week’s session while he got all his notes prepared, and - usually the next day Wayne was able - they’d sit down over breakfast, and he’d tell his uncle all about how the party actually played through it.

Wayne loved it. It was like listening to his own private movie told by his nephew. He’d get version one with how it was supposed to work, and then he’d get version two with all meandering and funny jabs from the characters and how they came around the problem. And Eddie would always light up while he talked about it.

But he never got to see Eddie after Friday night, after what was supposed to be the big finale.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked again.

And maybe it would’ve been wise of Eddie to spend the time with his uncle telling him what sort of week he’s just had. Answering all the questions and explaining how serious he was when he talked about monsters this time. But, strangely, it seemed so much more important to talk about the session.

“Well, those rugrats… they really pulled out all the stops.” Eddie told him, shifting around as he continued,” You see, Lucas has this big game come up suddenly. He couldn’t be there. And it would have meant they couldn’t play through the end of the campaign that night. So Dustin and Mike were running all over school trying to find someone to sub in for him. And then they showed up at Hellfire with Lucas’s kid sister! I’m not kidding! This little middle schooler named Erica struts in. And I’m looking at her, thinking there’s no way she’s hardcore enough. She’s practically a baby- and she probably doesn’t even know how DnD works- and she’s all pretty ‘n pink- so there’s just no way! She doesn’t have the metal for it, end of story. I was sure of it. But she busts in any way with this little monologue about just how hardcore she is… And it honestly blew me away a little. So we initiate her as an unofficial member and then we all sat down to start the game…”

And they just talked. Talked and talked about the game. Every second of it made Wayne feel a hundred times better. The longer Eddie spoke about one of his greatest passions, the more Wayne could be sure he wasn’t going to crumble to pieces in his hands.

After that was when Eddie knew he had to tell him about all the shit he’s been through. He couldn’t even imagine not telling his Wayne how crazy it really was. Not explaining why he came home Saturday morning to a body in their trailer. Not explaining why he so absolutely couldn’t go back to his uncle to ask for help. Not explaining that he climbed into hell and almost died in there for a chance at ending some great evil.

That just wasn’t something he could keep from him. Wayne would know he was bottling something up. He was always good at making him talk.

So he talked.

When they got through it all, Wayne just huffed and told him,“ You really did scare me, you know? I wasn’t sure if I’d get a call to identify a body, or if you’d just run away from everything here and I’d never know any better-”

“Sorry…”

“No. Don’t you say you're sorry. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’re going to make sure they know that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes,“ I don’t think they’ll just take your word for it.”

And then, from the door came the phrase,“ It’s not just his word.”

And it was Dustin Henderson, his mother standing right behind him.

“Henderson,” Eddie’s relief swelled to see the kid alright, then he added,“ And Mrs. Henderson.”

Officer Callahan had been hot on their heels showing up behind them as he started saying something about them not being allowed to see Eddie until they questioned him, how they had been instructed to go wait in Max’s room with the others. So the others were there too. But the two of them walked in anyway, completely ignoring the officer. Claudia took Eddie’s free hand, similarly to how she had Steve’s just the other morning.

And Eddie was just shocked that someone who was effectively a stranger was looking at him with kind eyes. He hadn’t expected to get that kind of treatment.

“My Dusty-bun tells me you stuck with him through the… earthquake. Made sure he was okay, and stayed safe even though the goddamn world was falling to pieces. Is that true?” she asked him, already very sure of the answer but wanting to hear him say it himself.

And something was flickering in the way she said it. ‘The… earthquake.’ So she knew it wasn’t really an earthquake. Which - as he thought about it - he remembered hearing Steve mutter about some parents finding out.

So Eddie gripped the bedrail and pushed himself to sit up in his bed, trying to be just a little awestruck, and answered.

“Yes ma’am,” like how Wayne always wanted him to say to adults. He usually bucked against the whole respecting your elders and authority figures thing, but for Dustin’s mother, he’d make an exception.

Her sweet smile pressed further into her plush cheeks, and she reached up to gently pat his hair with her hand, so very similar to how Wayne had,” Thank you. I will never be able to thank you enough for helping watch out for my baby-”

“Mom-” the kid groaned as if he could possibly still be surprised by the way his mother coddled him.

“So if you ever need anything, you can always reach out to us. Don’t even bother asking first, just take what you need.”

“That’s…”

Ridiculous. It was ridiculous to receive an offer like that from some little suburban mom. Even if she shared Dustin’s DNA and contributed to the weirdness of the little guy, she was still… just some mom. Not his.

But she pressed on,“ You saved me from my greatest fear. So whatever you need. And all of us are going to make sure everyone knows what really happened, as much as we can-”

“Okay,” Callahan tried to step in,” You can’t talk about the investigation before we’ve been able to question him-”

But then Ms. Henderson raised her finger to silence him while she turned back to Eddie,“ Do you feel up for their questions, honey?”

And that stunned him a second time. To watch Claudia Henderson shut up a policeman with a single finger and wait for Eddie’s cue before she was going to let anything happen. It was just stunning.

“Uh- yeah. Yeah, sure,” he croaked out when words came back to him.

“Alright,” she looked back at the man in blue,” Then ask him your questions so you can uncuff him and leave the poor boy alone.”

Callahan was readying to tell her about how that’s not exactly how it works,“ Ma’am-”

When Powell entered the room and interrupted him with a warning tone,“ Callahan.”

“They-” he began sputtering and motioning his hands at the pair who weren’t supposed to be in the room.

But before he could really argue, the Chief spoke to the mother,“ Ms. Henderson, you know you were supposed to go across the hall-”

“Well, we got over here just fine.” she innocently shrugged.

Chief Powell looked back at the officer with a disappointed glare as Callahan attempted to excuse himself,“ I tried-”

But Ms. Henderson was absolutely not allowing the two of them to waste time on it,“ Are you going to question him and get it over with?”

“Yes. Okay? If we could have everyone clear the room now? He’s not a minor; he can do this on his own.”

And then Claudia Henderson had the gall to look back at Eddie and wait for his blessing. Again. Like she was really willing to put her foot down and argue some more with the cops. Which- okay- maybe that was pretty badass. Way more than he was expecting from some prim and proper suburban mom. So Eddie gave her the nod she was looking for, and she placed her hands around Dustin’s shoulders to steer him into the other room.

Wayne gave his hand another tight squeeze and said,” You just holler and I’ll knock that door down, you hear?”

“I’ll be fine. Get outta here already,” Eddie squeezed his hand back.

Then Wayne let him go, and it was the first time he wasn’t being held since he arrived. His palm felt a little cold now. But he was okay. He was going to be okay.

Wayne left the room and followed the rest into the Max’s. They hadn’t all arrived yet. So far it was Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, Erica, Mike, and now Dustin. They are also accompanied by Karen, The Sinclairs, Susan, and now Claudia and Wayne.

Hop and Joyce were on their way with Will, El, and Argyle. Murray said he’d stay behind “strategizing”. And Vickie was supposed to be dropping Robin off any minute. Apparently, they had just sat down to eat an early lunch together when Steve reached out to everyone. Which had been news to him. So he’d been waiting with a very specific kind of impatience ever since. If he didn’t get to squeeze every ounce of information about her first date - because he was absolutely calling this a date - by the end of the night, he was going to go crazy.

In the meantime, everyone mingled the best they could. Wayne thanked Claudia for her ferocity for his boy, she thanked him for raising such a good one. Mike was on the walkie asking for updates on how close the Hopper-Byers car was to the hospital every few minutes, going on and on about how excited he was for El and Will to meet Eddie. Nancy seemed tense but told everyone they had used the morning to make some progress in cleaning things up. And Dustin was talking to Lucas and Erica about how Eddie looked before he and his mother were kicked out.

The questioning went well.

At least, it felt like it did.

Eddie didn’t really have anything to compare it to, seeing as he’d always kept himself out of too much trouble before. But it seemed like it wasn’t awful. There wasn’t any yelling, and while they asked him to be more specific or clarify what he was saying, they hadn't argued against his claims. So maybe Steve was right when he said they were leaning his way. And maybe Robin and Nancy would be able to turn it all around for him somehow.

But he reminded himself not to get carried away and hope for too much while Chief Powell finished up.

“We’ve taken your statement, and will be going over it with the evidence and the other testimonies we have collected. We don’t have an answer for you now, but we’ll be back tomorrow with the final decision on how the Hawkins Police Department will be proceeding with the charges.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, the cuffs stay on. And the visitors can come back in, but we’ll be posting an officer to keep an eye on you-”

And that was when the door swung open. Seemed like the people around there really didn’t care about following the rules. Chief Powell’s face twitched as he braced himself to tear into whoever just barged in when he found himself looking at a dead man.

“Chief…?”

It was the only word that came to him after referring to the man by the title for so many years. He looked different now, but he was still so unmistakably Jim Hopper.

He stepped into the room and motioned,“ From what I hear, that’s your job now, Cal.”

“You… you’re… how are you…” he sputtered, Callahan next to him just standing in silent shock with a hand over his mouth.

“Long story. One I don’t really want to go over. How about we call it a kidnapping and move on?”

“Kidnapping?” Powell asked,” But you- eight months, Chie- Hop… Hop, it’s been eight months since… you ‘died’ in the mall fire. Did they all lie about you being there, or-”

“No, I was there. Don’t try to take away my Hero of Hawkins medal now. It was the dying part that just didn’t stick.” Hopper corrected.

Then Callahan found his voice,“ But what’re you…?”

Hop shrugged and looked at Eddie for a second, which was weird because they’d never really spoken, but now the guy was on his side, technically,“ Was listening by the door and thought I could ask about possibly forgoing some of that procedure.”

“What?”

“Look, the kid’s clearly been through hell enough already, Cal-”

“Hop…” Powell shook his head,” This case is already messy enough as is. Everything needs to be by the book from this point on-”

“Come on. Call it calling in a favor?” he tried.

Which pulled a small smile to the other’s face because it was just so much like him to ask,“ You have no favors to call in.”

“You’re right, I never stocked any up. But… what about it anyway?”

“Look… as soon as the choice has been made, you’ll know. We aren’t dragging our feet on this, but we can’t be caught making mistakes. I’ll assume you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I’ve seen the-”

“Then you know, this has to be done right. There are too many eyes on it, and too much has gone off the rails already.” He emphasized. Then he spared a glance back at Eddie, and the kid did seem kind of pathetic.

“But we can loosen the cuffs a notch. Looks like Daniels put ‘em on a little tight.” He gave, stepping up to unlock them and clicking them back in place more comfortably.

Hop came in close behind him to ask,“ Who’ll be assigned the babysitting duty?”

“I was going to give it to Nichols,” Powell answered.

“Okay…” Jim considered,” Yeah, Nichols is good…”

“Alright then. Go on and invite everyone else in and tell them the protocol. We have work to do back at the station.”

“Calvin?” he asked as the officers headed for the door.

“Jim?”

“Thank you.” He said,” Nichols is…”

“Nichols is good. I know. He’s good at his job and not an ass like some of them, so he shouldn’t make this next day of waiting too difficult on him.” Which was a phrase that made Eddie feel a whole lot better about the guy,” And even if you don’t want to explain where the hell you’ve been the last two-thirds of the year, least you could do is bring a cup of coffee by my new office and tell me what the hell you’re doing now.”

“Yeah. Least I could do.” Jim agreed.

Then Powell nodded and left. Just like that, Eddie had officially done all he could to clear up the mess, and then it was out of his hands. It felt weird, to be on the other side of the fear. He had been dreading it the entire time since he saw Chrissy die right in front of him. “How do I get out of this?” played over and over in his head whenever the world was too quiet. And now he faced it. And he just has to lie there and wait until there’s news.

But before he could stew in it any longer, there were all his kids - plus a few new faces - packed in the door of his room. The adults excused themselves, some heading off to pick up some food from the diner in town for everyone to eat for lunch while the rest just headed on home themselves. Each of them decided to let the youngsters reunite on their own for a little bit.

As soon as Eddie saw Michael Wheeler coming in, he broke out an excited,“ Hey! It’s Little Wheeler! Where have you been all week? Didn’t you hear we were all hanging out?”

Mike, who was just a moment ago beaming to see his DM awake, let his expression instantly drop at the nickname.

“Little Wheeler?” he questioned.

Eddie explained,“ Well, yeah, I can’t call you and your sister both ‘Wheeler’ after all.”

Mike argued,“ I should be the original ‘Wheeler’!”

“I’m not calling Nance ‘Big Wheeler’, dude.” Eddie rolled his eyes,“ Plus she’s cool. Way too cool to not be the standalone ‘Wheeler’. You know?”

Nancy was wearing a pretty smug look when Mike turned on her,“ You stole my DM.”

“What?”

“You stole my DM!” he repeated,” I leave for one week, and suddenly I’m ‘Little Wheeler’?”

She shrugged her shoulders at her brother,“ That’s not my fault. Stop being ‘Little Wheeler’ material.”

“I’m the taller one!”

Eddie reached out his hand to try and get in between them,“ Wheelers, Wheelers, you're both pretty. No need to fight for the affections of my heart-”

But Mike wasn’t even listening,“ Give it back!”

“Give it back?” she quoted back to him.

“Give it back!”

“I’m not ‘giving it back’, Mike. It’s a nickname. Earn a better one if you’re going to be so worked up about it. How about we give ‘Little Shit’ a try?” she offered.

They kept bickering between themselves as someone new stepped in a little closer to Eddie’s bedside.

He recognized her from the empty space in his head they’d met a few days ago, but he still didn’t really know her yet.

And then she looked at him with bashful eyes and began speaking,“ I like your hair. It’s… pretty.”

Eddie’s hair reminded her of her own before she woke up in that bed at the NINA project to see they'd cut it all off. She really liked having long hair. It was something that she was able to look at the mirror and say “It’s been so long since I was trapped there that now my hair goes past my shoulders.” She can’t say that anymore.

Because they caught her again.

And maybe she walked right into it but… she liked her long hair.

Missed it now.

And Eddie said, with a flourish,“ Why thank you, m’lady. Not exactly the style of flattery I usually aim for, but I am more than happy to accept it regardless.”

That’s right. Mike had said that Eddie was pretty “metal.” So maybe there was another word that fit him better.

“It’s also really… bitchin’.”

And Eddie just lit up. His eyes and smile widened at the soft-spoken girl,“ Oh my god, you’re my favorite now. Please, come closer, you little angel!”

He beckoned her with his hand as much as he could while still being restrained, and El’s own smile grew with her giggle as she stepped up to his bedside with more confidence. Her brother was just behind her, and Eddie had been about to greet him when two of the kids he already knew well enough yelled at him.

“Hey!” Mike and Dustin protested in unison. Both of them were clearly mad about the fact that he just called El his favorite, and he didn’t even know her name yet.

“Hey yourselves!” Eddie shot back,” This cutie saved my life and just gave me the greatest compliment I’ve ever received!”

“But that’s- That’s not-” Dustin sputtered before turning to one of the other older boys in the room,” STEVE!”

“What do you want me to do about it? I can’t magically make you his favorite again-“

To which Mike took offense,“ Hey!”

“Please, Mike, do you really think you were Eddie’s favorite?” Dustin asked him with that same tone Steve kept saying he’d do something about, yet hasn't,” It was obviously me. And it’s obviously going to be me again, once I retake my throne from this thief!”

El scrunched her eyebrows together at him,“ I did not steal it.”

“Yes, you did! With magic powers and sweet words!”

Eddie chimed in,“ Don’t forget the cute face.”

“And your cute face!” he added with an accusatory finger, though it just made El laugh again.

Lucas shrugged and sided,“ I’m on El’s team. You can’t not like her. I tried. Didn’t get very far.”

She gave him a courteous nod,” Thank you.”

However, Mike seethed “Traitor!” in the other boy's direction.

“So, El’s the name of the darling I owe my life to?” Eddie asked her, ignoring the boy’s play fighting.

“Yes. Short for Eleven.” She answered.

“Eleven?”

“There’s a lot we didn’t have time to explain fully the first time around,” Steve told him.

“I wasn’t even here when Eddie’s life went to shit! I think that means I get bonus points.” Mike got louder as he tried to argue.

Lucas was the one to disagree,“ That doesn’t make any sense. None of us screwed him over.”

“If anything, you weren’t even here to try and help him out of it. I think that means we deserve bonus points.” Dustin added.

“They are so immature.” Erica rolled her eyes and said to Steve.

“I know they are.” he agreed,” At least you behave when you aren’t too busy blackmailing us-”

“Eddie! You’re really awake!” Robin rushed in, finally arriving with the rest of them.

“Last one in, Robin?” Eddie asked.

“I was…” She spared a glance at Steve, who was already looking at her pretty intently, before she put her focus back on the one in the bed,” looking into something. For you!”

Erica leaned in closer to Steve and whispered while Robin rambled about her meeting with Mr. Thompson,“ It is not blackmailing when I am just insisting on the return of the goods and services that were pledged to me-”

“It’s a little blackmail-y, or like, at least blackmail-adjacent the way you do it,” Steve whispered back.

“And yet, I didn’t even need to apply the pressure for five minutes before you broke. Seems like you just knew I was right.”

Steve deadpanned at her,“ Okay, I take it back. You don’t behave. No one in The Party behaves.”

“Oh, that’s the truth.” Robin hastily agreed when she caught the back half of what he said.

“Oh, so this is The Party?” Eddie asked with a motion to the room.

Mike pipped up,“ Yeah. We’re The Party.”

Nancy gave a light shove to his head,“ It’s what they’ve been calling themselves since the day Dustin moved into town. And once we all got mixed up in everything together, we all kind of adopted it.”

"We're still the originals, though," Mike mentioned with a motion between the four boys.

“So that’s what the little angel meant. Not celebrating.” Eddie figured, finally connecting the dots. But should he really have expected the person he confused with God to be using fantasy terms that way? Can’t blame the guy for assuming she’d meant it by the normie definition.

“No, she was not referring to an actual party.” Will joked beside her.

“Good, because I was going to be pissed if you were all just having fun while I was dying.” He huffed.

Steve stepped forward,“ You weren’t dying-”

“Oh no, he absolutely was.” Robin interrupted him,” You heard El, she had to keep him together enough to even make it to the hospital-”

“What?”

And there was Wayne at the door, along with the other parents all holding to-go bags of food for everyone. Thus started the third - and hopefully last - explanation of what was actually going on. They couldn’t really pretend like everything was normal since Eddie had already told Wayne most of what happened to him. So they just explained it further. Went over the bits that Eddie didn’t know anything about or didn’t understand fully. They had the discussion over burgers and fries, and vending machine sodas and candies. Which made all the information go down a little bit easier.

Eddie learned why a child would be named Eleven.

Wayne learned that his boy’s innocence rests on the integrity of a mountain of lies.

Which was really scary to think about.

So they tried not to.

They all started getting to know one another a little better, seeing as how they’d be putting together more plans to fight off the end of the world. Wayne and Hopper noticed a few similar mannerisms between them. Eddie was more properly introduced to El and Will. And Jonathan and Argyle. And Joyce. Those were all the new faces he was getting a real conversation with. According to everyone, there was some guy who didn’t feel like coming in, two more on the way, and the other parents had headed off back to their homes until visiting hours were over. They didn't want to overwhelm Eddie and thought the kids should get to spend some time with him. Which was pretty sweet, considering he was a wanted man who had been on the run just a few days before.

It was about then that they were suddenly interrupted by a distressed woman in a pantsuit and sunglasses at their door.

But before she even got a word in, Nancy was standing up from her seat and very sharply telling her,” Out.”

The woman peeled off her sunglasses and responded through a clenched jaw,” I see you found our missing persons… and then some.”

She added that last bit while eyeing Jim.

“Get out.” Nancy insisted.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“I said ‘Get out’. So get out of this room.”

“Nancy…?” Joyce asked, concerned. Nancy had never revisited her grudge against this particular government agent any of the times they ran over things.

The woman pushed,“ We have to talk about what happened.”

“I’m not saying a goddamn word to you people. Since we can’t trust you not to make it worse.”

Then it was Hopper trying to calm her down,“ Kid-”

“They handed her back to him.” Nancy said firmly, making strides around Eddie’s bed to put herself between the woman and the rest of the room, tucking El right behind her,” So no. They don’t get to get close to her again.”

“However you feel about things, we still need to get on the same page if we have any hope of cleaning things up around here.”

“It’s not happening. Not here, not today, and not anywhere near El. I don’t care what you say, it’s not.”

The woman seemed exacerbated,“ We have to-”

Finally, Nancy let out the yell she had been fighting back all day,“ Get out!”

Which was a sight. For everyone. To see her lose her cool like that.

It was different than the way she fought monsters.

It was… something else.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“Tomorrow then? We all get together and discuss things tomorrow?” Joyce offered the compromise, still making up her mind on how exactly she felt about the situation but sure about wanting to get it taken care of.

Hopper answered for their guest in his own gruff voice,“ We’ll talk tomorrow.”

After a moment of silence, the agent decided to take the deal on the table,“ I’ll leave my card. There’s a number on it. Call and make plans for the meeting, or I’ll show up unannounced again. With backup.”

Nancy was gearing up to walk closer when Steve grabbed her shoulder,“ Get out-”

“I’m leaving. Make sure you call.” She said, pressing the slip on top of the light fixture by the door.

And then she was gone.

“You know… I was going to give this welcoming committee a five-star review in the paper until she showed up. Really soured the mood, you know?” Eddie joked, trying to relieve some tension.

Nancy huffed and returned to her seat,” Sorry. The news must’ve aired footage of the police arriving for questioning and were probably still running the cameras when everyone showed up, so…”

“We weren’t even thinking about that when we got here…” Jonathan muttered beside her.

“It’s okay. Still a pretty rockin’ day from my end. Being not dead and all.”

“That’s it, man. We just gotta focus on the positives.” Argyle smiled back at him.

“What’s the plan for the meeting?” Robin asked nervously.

“El’s not coming.” Nancy set the condition sternly.

“Agreed.” Hop nodded and crossed his arms.

“But-” the girl tried to argue.

“No. We have to assume she won’t be alone, and while Sam might’ve been on your side, we don’t know what they’re doing now on their own. We need to know how everything stands. If there are people who aren’t our allies, we aren’t giving them an opportunity to get ahold of you again.”

“We can’t just leave her alone, Hop,” Joyce noted.

“So, you don’t.” Wayne thought,” You bring her here on the way to the meeting. There are all the cameras at the entrance, an officer will be posted by the room, and this hospital is still full of people. If someone tried to break her out of her against her will, they wouldn’t get very far without drawing a lot of attention.”

Jim nodded some more,” Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea. El can stay here until we finish.”

“More time to hang out with my guardian angel? Sounds good to me.” Eddie agreed with a smile, hoping El wouldn’t be nervous about the idea.

“So then, tomorrow morning. Most of the rest of us. Some place public. Get this dealt with so we can figure out the next move.” Jim concluded.

And no one else said anything, but they all agreed. That was the plan.

There wasn’t much more to say the evening, so when four o’clock arrived and a nurse was kicking everyone besides Wayne out and introducing Officer Nichols, they all went their separate ways. Most of the kids' parents were pulled up by the hospital entrance for pickup. Except for Robin who Steve whisked away so they could spend a few hours doing some much-needed checking in. Robin just had her first date after all, so there was so much to talk about before he needed to drop her off at home.

She told him everything. All about the phone call and Vickie's new earrings. About all the ways Vickie made her laugh and how she could swear she’d noticed Vickie’s eyes lingering on her when she would get lost in her rambles. About the way that Vickie sat right next to her while they talked to Mr. Thompson on his front porch. About the way that Vickie leaned against her and touched her shoulder and seemed to be so close sometimes that Robin swore her head was spinning.

She talked about it all with Steve.

Because telling her best friend about her amazing day made it so much more real.

And that was the moment Steve decided Robin wasn’t coming with them to the meeting. He had already been pretty sure about it but watching her bursting with excitement about her first real chance at loving a girl made him certain.

There was probably going to be nothing major that happened. It would be stupid of the Feds to try and take out something like a dozen people in a small town where everyone knows each other. But he wasn’t going to risk it. Just couldn’t imagine risking Robin disappearing before she got to kiss Vickie for the first time and feel loved in that sweet special way that romance can hold.

With everything Steve knew about love and everything he didn’t, he knew that Robin deserved to have her chance to find out about it.

#I AM SO SORRY LOVELIES!!!#I KEEP FORGETTING TO UPDATE TUMBLR WITH THESE CHAPTERS!!!#I'm copying over 3 chapters that are already on AO3 #And there are going to be another 2 coming out in the next few days!#Sorry again about the delay. I just completely forgot Tumblr existed for a minute because I've been focused on Twitter #Ronance Drama?#Oops. I didn't originally plan to give them much to 'overcome'#But I decided we'd make their story a little bit more turbulent for fun :)#And I hope y'all liked the Eddie apology to Lucas - I hope it didn't feel occ #But I really needed Eddie to say he was sorry for what he did bc I'm mad at him about it #and I got to start the saga of 'Wayne being the best uncle ever' bc I've been wanting to write my 'they talk about dnd together' bit so bad #And the beginnings of the Eddie&Nancy bestfriendism agenda I'm going to push #I adore them and they'll get a lot of attention and development together!#I'm also incredibly exciting about more El and Eddie interactions - El and Nancy bonds - and so many others #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things 4 spoilers #Stranger Things 4 volume 2 spoilers

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cherrychilli · 4 months

Text

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

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dearest-nell · 2 months

Text

charmed

e. munson x reader, 3k

summary: eddie comes home from a long day at work to discover wayne has a pretty surprise for him includes: established!eddie x reader, wayne being the sweetest paternal figure, mumblings of a found family, wayne manifesting a daughter in law by years end warnings: afab reader, non descript

a/n: writing from the boys perspective is always way more fun. i have so many thoughts about wayne and eddie's relationship.

Eddie had intended to be home earlier, a far cry earlier than the 9:30 that blinked hazily on his vans dashboard as he pulled in before the trailer. He was meant to be home hours ago, hoping to enjoy a Friday night the way that a young person ought to – out with the people he loved. Instead he sat in his driver's seat, covered in oil and grime and god knows what else from under the hood of some deadbeat richman from the other side of town. The apprentice had fucked the repair of a rather pricey car, one that was to be picked up first thing monday, and Eddie didn’t have it in him to let the little guy drown under the barrage of abuse from an intimidating customer.

So he stayed back, and now he was paying the price. Dinner would have been long over by now, and it was unlikely that Wayne was still home at such an hour. He usually had the night shift on this pay cycle, but Eddie couldn’t tell one from another these days. The lights were still on, his indication that he’d gotten his weeks wrong.

Worn leather boots beat against the gravel as he trekked towards the door, hand running through the curls that hung low on his forehead; wild, in desperate need of a trim. He was spent, body weary and limp from the extra strain. He wanted to call his friends, to call you, to ask for good company, but he knew even now he was too tired to go anywhere.

The door was unlocked, so he slipped into the warmth of the trailer with an involuntary shiver, eyes blinking tiredly to spot the figure propped up on the couch. Wayne. Beer in hand, chin shadowed with stubble; Eddie’s hero, if anyone were to ever ask. The old man was his favourite person, whether he knew it or not.

Wayne gave a gruff smile, tilting his chin up at his nephew. “Long day, boy?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, voice more gravelly than he’d realised. “Got stuck back, sorry I didn’t call.”

Wayne shrugged. “I figured, though there’s a surprise in your room f’you.”

A surprise? Eddie couldn’t possibly guess what. “You’re joking.”

Wayne simply smiled in response, shaking his head. “You go have a look ‘n tell me if I’m joking. Just be quiet about it.”

Eddie gave a quizzical sort of look, boots resounding against the floorboards as he moved towards the room, a quick mumble from Wayne catching his attention again.

“Quieter than that.”

Eddie scoffed, his demeanour still playful despite his disbelief. He took more careful steps this time, readjusting the band wrapped clumsily around his bound tresses, trying to alleviate the steadily subsiding headache from two hours ago. Wayne had never been much of a secret keeper, nor was he one for dramatics. He was a pragmatic, realistic, nonfrivolous sort of man, which made that excitable little sparkle in his uncle’s eyes all the more amusing. Wayne didn’t play tricks, but Eddie couldn’t help but feel he was walking into one.

With a slow turn of his door handle, Eddie eased the gap open, his eyes scanning the silent dark until his gaze settled upon the mountain of blankets upon his bed. There, buried under three blankets of comfort, was you. It might have been hard to tell under any other circumstances, but even half asleep and exhausted out of his mind, Eddie knew he could recognise your silhouette anywhere. He softened instantaneously, body slackening slightly under the slow wave of adoration that overcame him. You were here to see him. Talk about a surprise, he hadn’t expected to see you today, and now he felt his ribs pressing in tightly together, chest constricting with a glad sort of giddiness.

He was gentle in closing the door again, his smile bemused at his now grinning uncle. “And how’d my girl end up in there, hm?”

He toed off his boots, movements suddenly precise and careful under the presence of your company. Even through the closed door, he had no desire to rouse you just yet. Not until he was ready, clean and showered and shed of all other obligations, able to dedicate himself to your company.

“She came by at 5,” Wayne explained, turning down the quiet shout of the television set with a well worn remote, “thought you’d be home soon, wanted to surprise you. I told her she was welcome t’wait, thinkin’ you’d be round earlier. But y’weren’t, so we had some dinner.”

Wayne paused, nudging his chin towards the fridge, which Eddie took to mean there was leftovers waiting for him inside. He began rustling through, finding what was left of a roast and vegetables wrapped up neatly in foil. It was a little more extravagant than he had expected, and Eddie chalked that up to your aid in the kitchen. He could see the container of biscuits on the counter, too, with little hearts and flowers piped onto the tops. Pinks and blues and reds and whites, this wasn’t a house for sweets and softness, though Eddie welcomed your charms in any way he could get them. He sat at the table to feast, unbothered to even reheat the feast.

Wayne continued on. “Thought she might go lookin’ for y’, but we got a’talking. She’s a real sweet thing, y’know, made a real effort to chat. Even offered to sit down ‘n watch a game with me, thought I didn’t have the heart t’put her through it. Ended up watchin’ some Antiques Roadshow thinkin’ she’d like it better; you ever seen me watchin’ that before? I ain’t never had much care, but we had good fun.”

“No shit!” Eddie piped up, astounded by the softened edges of his Uncle. You’d charmed him, he thought, with your curious questions and kind smiles. For Wayne to sit down and talk to anyone was a miracle, one that only an angel could perform. His Angel.

“We got guessin’ and everythin’.” Wayne added, wiping roughly at his smile. “Seemed tired, though, so I told her to crash in your room. She’s been out maybe half an hour.”

Astounded was an understatement. Eddie had brought girls home before he met you, though none had bothered to exchange more than polite pleasantries with his Uncle. He’d never been serious about them, so he’d never thought much of it, and then came you. Three months into this new connection, a relationship born of spring flowers and whisky nights and loud music and soft touches. Eddie had never been serious until now, until you, and now he couldn’t picture being anything else but.

He was glowing, beaming from ear to ear. “So you like her, then?” He was so hopeful in his question, a sincerity Wayne only ever saw reserved for the most heartfelt of Eddie’s dreamings.

“I do.” Wayne announced, washing down his contentment with another swig of his beer. “I hope y’re serious ‘bout her, she’s real soft on you, and I think she’s a good one. Seems to make you happy enough, you ain’t mopin’ nearly so much these days.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning with faux annoyance, rolling foil into a tiny ball to toss across the room, missing Wayne by a good foot of space. “I don’t mope.”

“I don’t mope my ass, kid, you mope plenty. Just not anymore.” He was laughing now, worn lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. “I said she should come back f’dinner another night, we can all eat together. She was tellin’ me ‘bout this story she was readin’, and I’ll be damned if I don’t know how it ends.”

Eddie knew how this story ended; it ended with you. It began with you, too. It was all you, he couldn’t see any other ending for him.

“Yeah, that sounds good, old man.” He was doing his best to stomach the meal, but his words were caught around hastily eaten mouthfuls half chewed and uneasy to swallow. He’d give himself heartburn if he wasn’t careful, and it would have been worth it.

Eddie took a moment to pause, swallowing thickly, belching unceremoniously in a way he was glad you weren't there to witness. “I am serious, y’know, about her. Real serious. I got a good feeling.”

“Yeah?” Wayne questioned, sinking back into the sofa.

“Yeah. She could be the one; ain’t that somethin’? I always thought it was bull when people said you just know, but…” he laughed with astonishment, “I think I just know.”

“Well shit,” Wayne exclaimed, clearing his throat, “that’s real good, Ed’s. You just be good and treat her nice. Be a gentleman.”

Eddie wasn’t too sure he knew how to be a gentleman, but somehow, he knew you liked him all the same. He didn’t need to be anything but himself around you, and that was a one in a billion kind of feeling,

He was quick in his cleaning, fumbling around the kitchen to pack away a still soaking plate, his mind skating over the plastic drying rack by the sink entirely. “I’m bein’ good, I swear.”

“Bullshit.” Wayne teased, shaking his head. He braced himself on his knees, slowly rising to his feet with a groan. “I’m goin’ to bed. Tell her she’s welcome to stay whenever she likes, okay? Show her where the spare key is.”

“I will.” Eddie nodded, barely able to fight his slow building excitement. He could feel himself getting restless, hands flexing just at the thought of holding you. “G’night, Wayne.”

“G’night son.” He echoed back, disappearing into the quiet of his own room.

Eddie made sure to lock up on his way, switching off the tv and lights as his own sort of wind down ritual. They’d be on all night if he wasn’t careful, and he’d spied the last bill long enough to have a mind for the electricity now. Besides, he needed to be calm when he woke you. He’d half frightened you to death last time he came barrelling in.

Once again, he retreated towards his room, slipping into the dark like a shadow of the night, slowly shucking his way out of his overalls to kick to the side of the room. He didn’t mind staining his sheets with oil, but not you; you were something worth caring for. He knew he should have showered, but the sweat on his skin could hardly deter him from the need he had to be close to you, to ease away the troubles of his way with the balm of your skin against his, your whispers ringing in his head.

He fumbled his way to the edge of the mattress, your sleeping body facing away from him to the back wall of the room. He peered a little closer into the darkness, a sliver of moonlight cascading across the bare curve of your shoulder, arm wrapped around something small, something fuzzy…

“Well shit, Ted, what’re you doing in here?” Eddie hadn’t thought to consider where the ragdoll cat had scampered off to. Teddy had been adopted only a few weeks after Eddie came to live with Wayne, his Uncle’s way of easing the boy into this entirely new world together. Teddy had been his childhood companion, and by the way he was burrowed into the pudge of your stomach, purring louder than a car engine, Eddie could see you’d won him over too.

The cat barely stirred, rather giving him a grumbled sort of chirp at being disturbed, before wriggling his way further under the blankets. You, however, made the softest of whining noises that left Eddie’s heart near strangling in his chest. He lifted a ring clad hand to that moonlight shoulder, brushing callouses across the line of freckles that dusted your skin, watching as your eyes began to flutter open, head turning slightly to face him.

“Eddie!” No one in the world had ever been so enthusiastic to see him before, not one. His name wasn’t the kind to roll off the tongue, to be begged for or shouted out or held tenderly on someone's lips. Never before, but the way your mouth wrapped around the letters seemed to change the word entirely. Nothing had ever sounded so tender, so wanting, so pleased. You were always pleased to see him, a feeling he never had to doubt when he could see it so plainly reflected in your irises.

“Honey.” He cooed back, tugging up the corner of the bedsheets to slip beneath them, curving his body to fit the shape of your own, nudging his knee between your two just to feel your skin pressed against his own in every possible way. The hair on his body was just as wild as the hair on his head, but nothing felt like home to him more than the brush of your skin to the mess of his. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You exhaled a lengthy yawn, muffling the sound into his pillow with a hum. Your hair, once styled, now seemed mussed and flattened under the weight of your head. His bed linens were already tattooing precious creases into sleep warmed skin. You were too beautiful for him to even comprehend.

You turned in his arms, careful not to disrupt the grumbling cat beside you despite your eagerness. He felt arms press their way around him, your nose nuzzling at his chin. “Wayne let me in. I hope that’s okay.”

Literally nothing else could have been more okay in his mind. It was perfect. This was perfect; coming home to you. “Come by anytime, baby. I’m just sorry I wasn’t back sooner. I made you wait.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t mind. Wayne’s really cool. He kept me company.”

“So I heard.” His voice was edged with an air of amusement, his hand lifting to brush back the strands of hair falling across your face, leaving his palm to cup at the plush of your cheek, his eyes admiring even in the dark. “Antiques Roadshow?”

You let out a giggle. “We panicked! I was trying to make a good impression, and he suggested it so I thought why not. Honestly it was pretty fun, I could totally watch another episode.”

“Mm.” His lips met the button of your nose dotingly, his voice slackening to a syrupy smoothness. “He’s impressed, I’m impressed; you’ve got us Munson men wrapped around your pretty little finger. Even Teddy’s on your side.”

“I do not!” You chided, helpless against his onslaught of affection. He left you preening and giddy, a little lightheaded when he loved on you like this, and Eddie never had any intention of stopping. “Teddy just wanted a cuddle.”

“Him and me both.” Eddie asserted, snaking his other arm beneath the arch of your waist, wrapping around the small of your back to tug you in further, his smile resoundingly bright at the way you hummed happily. “We’re not too young to be asleep by 10, are we?”

The way you eased into the very fabric of him, your bodies so close and so connected, wrapped tightly in the warmth of his room, was enough assurance to him that you were just as content here as he was. “No. I’m not leaving this spot. You just got home, and I’m all sleepy, and Ted’s gonna get mad if we move.”

Ted chirped an affirmative sound, leaving Eddie to rasp a laugh. “Well we can’t make Teddy mad, can we. Gotta stay here all night with my girl.”

You chuckled softly in turn, your voice quieting under the weight of exhaustion. “I was meant to keep you company, but I’m so sleepy.” Another yawn parted your plush lips, leaving Eddie with no choice but to press his own to the corner once they came back together again.

“You are keepin’ me company. Think I’ll sleep a bunch better with you keepin’ me warm. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow, hm? After a big sleep in?”

“You’re so sexy when you talk like that.” You mumbled, your lashes fluttering shut to rest against your cheeks. “I’d kiss you stupid if I could move.”

Besotted was not a strong enough word for what Eddie felt in that moment, but he was overwhelmed with the urge to litter a smattering of kisses from the edge of your cheekbone to the corners of your forehead, each one softer than the last, lulling you into that sweet place of slumber you were already drifting towards.

“Kiss me stupid tomorrow. Sleep, sweetheart.” You didn’t need to be told twice. Within moments, Eddie watched the light in your flicker to a dim, pale glow, your breathing evening out to something unhurried. Peaceful. It didn’t matter to him that he had only had those brief moments with you tonight. Five minutes with you was enough to chase away all the strife of a day otherwise written off in his mind. And that was what his life had been missing, after all. Someone who made going to sleep at 10pm look like the greatest moment of his life. He wanted to keep you to himself, a greedy kind of possessiveness stirring in his gut, for as long as he was able, knowing full well that less than twelve hours from now, Wayne would without a doubt be waiting to make you both breakfast on his morning off.

Like he said, you had all the Munson boys charmed.

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theohohmoment · 4 months

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I'm going to say something wildly controversial.

*Deep breath*

Eddie Munson does not have soft curly hair.

Now, if your head canon or fanon has Eddie with soft curly hair, you have my full support. Feel free to have Steve Harrington running his fingers through soft brown curls.

BUT

Eddie Munson was a trailer park drug dealing metalhead in the 80s. Chances are he washed his hair with a bar of soap or the cheapest driest shampoo and never went near conditioner, and that was on purpose, he wanted his hair big and wild. He'd follow up with drying his hair upside down, scrunching it up to get some curls, sticking hair gel through the roots, back combing it, and then finally using a stupid amount of hair spray.

His hair would be big and mad and metal.

He probably hacked crazy layers into it with some old kitchen scissors over the trailer sink, driving Wayne up the wall. He was probably banned from lighting up a cigarette for half an hour after finishing his haircare routine due to the amount of hair spray.

And I honestly think that would work so well in fics. Imagine Dustin trying out the Eddie Munson hair routine like he did with Steve's for the snowball dance and Steve's reaction "I said 4 pumps Henderson!" "It's called being metal Steve, duh" or Steve seeing Eddie's actual flat/silky/lightly curled hair for the first time after his first post-upside down shower and getting heart palpations or Eddie convincing Steve to do each other's hair routines and Steve freaking out at the tangles from teasing it.

I just think authentically metal haired Eddie is something we need more of, that's all.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie #80s #metalhead #gay hair

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stevebabey · 1 year

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Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

#gay ppl in my phone…. take this humble offering to tide u over between fics #everything has become long #i cannot help it #every idea is like 5k+ words #this is me trying to combat it #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #uhhhh that’s all folks #this is indeed the trope of steve telling the police they were fucking for their alibi lmao #10 points if u can guess which line is from the hunger games!#that’s what inspired this

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sarcasticassian · 11 months

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it’s Wayne Munson that helps Steve realise he’s bisexual and it’s after he’s been waxing poetic about Eddie just to rub salt in the wound

Steve offered to help Wayne wash the dishes because he wants Eddie’s uncle to like him for more than the fact that he helped save Eddie’s life so he’s helping and Wayne is minding his goddamn business but Steve won’t stop talking about how great Eddie is which is lovely for Wayne, he agrees with everything Steve is saying obviously but he’s also not sure what Steve’s game is because Wayne knows Eddie has a big fat crush on the boy and so Steve must be sending some weird signals and Wayne isn’t sure what to do until Steve sighs as he’s drying a dish and blurts out

“whatever girl gets to date Eddie is gonna be so lucky, sometimes I wish I were a girl so I could date him”

and Wayne just sort of freezes because he doesn’t want to out Eddie but what the fuck, this Harrington kid quite clearly likes Eddie back so he slowly starts to carry on washing the dish in his hand and casually tells Steve

“you know, you don’t have to be a girl to date another boy, Steve, just in case you needed to hear that”

and now it’s Steve’s turn to freeze and he’s clutching the towel in his hands and frowning to himself, looks like Eddie when he’s trying to do his math homework, until his face clears and brightens and Steve just goes

“oh” then “and do you think-“ before he bites his lip and looks over at Eddie

“go” Wayne says, nudging Steve towards the couch and he washes the last plate and makes his excuses about going for a smoke so he can leave the two of them alone and very much tries to ignore how Eddie’s bedroom door is firmly shut when he comes back in and just turns up the tv

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things 4 #steveddie #wayne munson

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queenimmadolla · 7 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.

Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”

“Wha’?”

“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.

While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.

Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.

The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.

Someone.

Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.

Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.

Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.

He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

NOW, 1989

“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.

When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.

You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.

You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.

So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

Your mother was murdered.

Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.

The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.

Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.

You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.

The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.

He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.

So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.

“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

It was a little odd, but you did.

When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.

You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.

“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”

Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.

“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”

You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.

“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”

Didn’t feel like it.

Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.

“And I can. Please, let me do this.”

You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.

You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.

Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”

You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, spill.”

Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”

This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.

“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.

“Steve Harrington.”

“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.

“Does he flirt with you?”

“No.”

“See him flirt with any girls?”

“Nope.”

“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

“He’s on the spectrum?”

Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

It got quiet for a few moments.

”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.

She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

“Reefer Rick?”

“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

Munson.

You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

“H-He’s your favorite…?”

“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.

“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.

“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

Maybe a drink would calm you down.

You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

Oh, shit.

Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

”Funny seeing you here.”

You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.

“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

“Oh.”

He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

OH, THANK FUCK.

“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

“Hey, Carol.”

Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.

“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

“Oopsie.”

But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.

Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.

You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.

Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

“Wall.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

“Great Wall of China.”

Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.

Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.

“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

“Does that feel good?”

You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”

Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.

She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.

His right arm was out, palm up.

He was waiting for you.

You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

“Sissy. . .”

“Sissy…”

“SISSY!”

You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.

What the hell?

“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.

You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

“Oh my god…”

“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

“Ooh, your knees…”

You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.

“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.

“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.

“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.

You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

“THAT WE DO!”

You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

“Mm. White wine?”

It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

You shot him a glare.

“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.

You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

Then your eyes snapped open.

Oh, god. You were a loser.

After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.

“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

“Yes, we got a free soda!”

Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”

“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

“I bet you can.”

After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.

Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.

And it was coming from outside your front door.

You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.

You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

“Uuuhhhnng…”

This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”

You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.

You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

“Stop it!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Go away, I’m just a girl!”

The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.

On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.

You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.

Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”

He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

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