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dumbslxtclub · 2 years

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you’re on your own, kid | e.m - part ten

eddie munson x singlemom!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: emotions reach a fever pitch, resulting in some unexpected revelations

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 19, anxiety, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, mentions of a fight and wounds

word count: 8.4K+

a/n: here we go guys, gals and non-binary pals! shoutout to my zoom bestie @dickfics69 for beta reading. hope you enjoy, this chapter was a labor of love!

taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog @reidstea @sashaphantomhive @bexreadstoomuch @audhd-dragonaut @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86 @tlclick73 @fckyeahlames @gnocchey @astrolockley @sidthedollface2 @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord @eddiesbabe95

↳ one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

Part Ten: Isn’t It Delicate?

It’s not until a streak of morning sunlight creeps across your delicate eyelids that you’re awoken from an unusually heavy sleep. Bright rays assault your corneas as you peel your eyes open, smooshing down into the feathery pillow to escape the call of a new day. God, your body feels so heavy but your mind is crystal clear, none of your typical morning grogginess present. Tossing over to your side, you catch a glimpse of the alarm clock perched on your bedside table, it’s steady ticking the only sound in the otherwise silent bedroom.

8:24am.

Surely that can’t be right.

Hoisting yourself up, you peer over to re-read the clock. Maybe one of the hands stopped moving during the night? But no, the seconds continue clicking away, making a sure revolution of the face as it has countless times before. It dawns on you.

You slept through the whole night.

Oh, god.

You slept through the whole night.

Panic surges through your body, jolting you out of bed and racing to the door on unsteady feet. How could this have happened? Even during the deepest of REM cycles, Audrey’s cries are enough to pull you out of your slumber and to her beckoning call. That familiar pang of dread hangs heavy in your stomach, is she okay? Did something happen to her during the night? She’s gone a whole night without a feed, a change, you push away the thought creeping in that something bad has happened…

Swinging open the door frenetically, the sound of it hitting the wall somewhat compensates for the fact that your eyes haven’t properly started working yet and helps you orientate yourself. Eyes darting to the crib, which is completely empty, only further exacerbates your stress.

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.”

The blinds have been pulled open, an abnormally sunny March morning casting a sheet of buttery yellow across the living room. Smack bang in the center of the ancient carpet, a play mat that was previously stuffed into the corner has been rolled out. A mobile hangs above it, brightly colored bunnies, foxes and barnyard animals dangling from the twine and twirling with the sudden influx of air caused by the door slamming. A small pillow props up Audrey, who is situated on her stomach with her hands greedily but aimlessly grabbing in front of her cheerful face. Across from her, mirroring her position, is Eddie, holding a rainbow sensory caterpillar toy, beads bouncing off the crinkly interior as he waves it in front of her. Like two dogs at an impasse as they stand their ground over a stick, both fighting for ownership of the plush insect. Eddie shoots you a wide grin, shadows cast into the deep dimples in his cheeks. Mentally, you should politely return the gesture, but you’re too desperate for an answer to worry about your expression.

“Oh my god, you should have woken me up during the night!”

“Didn’t need to.” Eddie retorts smugly, tightening his grip on the toy which emits a squeaking noise. “I had it all handled.”

“But- did you feed her?”

“Sure did.”

“Every-”

“-Two hours? Like clockwork.”

“But what about-” “Changing her diaper? Sorted that too. Can’t say it’s my favorite pastime but we survived.” He chuckles, edging the caterpillar closer to Audrey’s desperate fingers. “Would’ve put her back to bed for a while, but thought she could use some time out of her straight-jacket to play.”

“It’s not a straight jacket, it’s a swaddle.”

“Well, it’s not as cool as what she’s wearing now.”

Printed on the back of the faded gray t-shirt is a tiny motorcycle, something you don’t recall purchasing for her. Eddie loosens his grip on the toy to readjust the one-size too big shirt she’s wearing, bare legs kicking excitedly on the plush mat. Her clammy fingers clamp down on the poor creature's head, which is swiftly brought into her drooling mouth for chewing. Eddie simply giggles at her antics while you try to slow your heart rate down with a calming exhale. As he rolls over, the sight before you causes your hazy vision to clear. Propping himself up on his elbow, hip taking the brunt of his weight to move his body in your direction. His hair is somehow even more unkempt than usual, but pales in comparison to Audrey’s, which looks like a half-sucked mango seed. But it’s not his hair that your eyes fixate on.

The shirt he borrowed last night has been discarded.

Light reflects off his pale skin, casting shadows into every groove and curve of his taut chest. It’s much easier to make out now the fine ink etched into his torso in the light of day, and much harder to hide your gawking. It’s not like you mean to stare at his uncovered body, but the contrast of the dark ink on his skin is positively eye-catching. Like a marble statue in a museum from centuries ago, made to be studied and appreciated for its beauty. Eddie, suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious under your gaze, clears his throat.

“Sorry- she spit up on me about 20 minutes ago and I didn’t want to wake you up to grab another one. She’s clearly not a big Bowie fan, not that I blame her.” His cheerful demeanor and Cheshire-cat smile compensates for the clear tension between the pair of you, neither wanting to address last night’s almost-kiss. Heat rises to your cheeks, the image returns of his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours, the groan caught in your throat threatening to release- “I’m gonna make some coffee.” Excusing yourself to the kitchen, you busy yourself clunking around in the cupboard looking for two clean mugs. “How did you know to feed her every two hours anyway?”

“Robin. She’s like a walking, talking baby book. Spits random facts out all the time to me.” His voice calls back from the other room.

You prep the percolator, taking care to spill a good amount of coffee grinds all over the counter and floor. All the while, the pair of best buddies giggle over something in the living room. With two cups of fresh coffee poured, you take them in either hand and carefully dodge the mess of clean laundry and assorted baby toys scattered in the doorway. The laughter only escalates as you draw nearer, placing the coffee on the ground beside Eddie, who has assumed the same tummy-time position as your daughter. Studying the pair closely, you can see that Audrey has a fat hand firmly grasped around a lock of Eddie’s hair, laughing her head off at him.

“Ow, ouch! God, you’ve got muscles, miss.” He chuckles, wincing slightly as he attempts to free his long strands from her tight grip. But he never lets his smile falter, which only further eggs her on, pulling his face closer to hers as she squeals with delight. You chuckle, taking your thumb and forefinger and placing them on Audrey’s cheeks, smooshing her mouth together with a smile.

“Get ‘im, Audrey! Kick his ass.” If Eddie could move his head more than an inch in your direction, you’re sure you’d be on the receiving end of a dirty look. Proud of yourself, you take a sip of your beverage and allow the caffeine hit to clear the remaining brain fog, placing the cup down beside you. “Aha! You’re in trouble now, Squid.” Eddie manages to free his curl from Audrey’s paw, bringing his fists up in a fighting position. He throws a couple of soft swings towards her outstretched hands, barely making contact with her palms. Back and forth, causing the baby to emit the most gorgeous laughter you’ve ever heard, pure music to your ears. As he lands his final blow, her tiny palm locks around the top of his knuckle with a squeal. Eddie dramatically collapses to the ground, a mess of hair flying around him as his face lands on the plush play mat. “Oh no, she’s twisting my arm! Have mercy, please!”

His grinning face flies back up to eye level, her eyes completely transfixed on his every move. Grabbing her small wrists gently with his hands, her gummy smile somehow grows wider as he begins colliding her hands with his face. With each mimed blow, he falls to either side like a WWF wrestler putting on their best show, complete with an agonizing groan as he feigns pain. Left hook, right hook, uppercut. Each movement is complete with a mimicked ‘whoosh’ sound from the metalhead. Clearly, the bounty of fresh toys you’d been gifted are rendered useless when Eddie is around. Audrey remains transfixed, giggling and squealing so hard you wonder if a hiccup attack is due soon. Her gaze drifts to you, the sparkle never leaving her eyes while she continues her assault on Eddie. God, she was beautiful. You wish you could bottle everything about her. Her smell. Her laugh. Her chubby legs kicking frantically. Time is moving entirely too fast for your liking.

Eddie sees her watching you, and pauses his motions. He studies your face, then hers, a voyeur encroaching on a private world in which only mother and daughter exist. Trading mutual understanding he will never completely relate to, the safety and bond formed long ago. How you look at her, and see your whole world gazing back at you. It’s beautiful. Painful. The love simmering within his core begins bubbling too quickly for him to contain it, unless he can interject in some way.

Eddie is a soldier, and his weapon of choice is outlandish humor. The perfect deflection, in his mind, to quell any tension between himself and those around him.

A tell-tale cheeky smile spreads across his face, sending up alarm bells once you clock him.

“What?” Your tone is dripping with distrust, shooting him a warning look which does little to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face.

His eyes dart back to Audrey, who has been studying the interaction between the pair of you. As soon as their eyes lock, her gummy smile grows significantly, and you wonder if they have some psychic connection, the pair already cooking up trouble. He leans in close to her, holding his ear up to her babbling mouth as if she’s divulging some deep secret. Nodding knowingly, his expression drops and he turns his solemn attention to you.

“I’m sorry, my ladyship, but the queen has spoken. You are a traitor to the kingdom, and must be executed.” On his final word, he runs his forefinger along the length of his neck, spelling out your demise.

“Eddie, n-” Before you can finish, Eddie launches at your mid-section, spear tackling you to the soft carpet beneath you, barely avoiding the half-full coffee cup beside you. Lungs emptying with the impact, you are powerless in stopping the laughter already making itself known as a result of his antics. Eddie grin is back in full force, towering over you. You tuck your knees to your chest like a turtle stuck on its shell, arms outstretched and ready to fight. With one quick motion, he swiftly clasps his fingers around your wrist, pinning it to the floor and rendering it useless.

“Accept your fate! It is for the good of the people.” A squawk not dissimilar to Audrey’s exits your throat as Eddie’s free hand bears into your ribs, tickling you as hard as he possibly can. His hair hangs haphazardly around his face, doing little to conceal his elated expression at his physical victory.

“Eddie! S-st-” You words are cut off as he hits a particularly sensitive spot on the side of your abdomen, your whole body tensing as you fail to control your hysterics. Eddie relishes in your discomfort, keeping a firm grip on your wrist glued to the ground. You never doubted Eddie’s strength, but seeing it in action is a different story. The brunt of his weight bears down on your wrist, but not to an uncomfortable extent, just enough to keep you in place. Mentally, you know, on your word, he would not hesitate to release you, prioritizing your comfort over any momentary joke. But the rush of endorphins rendered you drunk off their addictiveness, steady giggles vibrating in your chest and demanding more.

But you were never one to give up that easily.

With your free hand, you snatch a clump of curls and grasp tightly, tugging slightly to bring his face nearer. His eyes light up, clearly tickled over this struggle for power and your willingness to indulge in his antics. Instead of resisting, he leans in closer to lessen the pull on his scalp.

“Pulling an illegal move on me, sweetheart?” His words are honey-sweet, juxtaposing his imposing demeanor. “Sorry, that one’s only reserved for the queen.”

“Yeah? What about this one?” Years of play fighting with distant cousins pays off in this moment, thinking quick before wrapping your legs around his small waist. The sudden contact about his midsection is enough to throw Eddie off his groove, giving you a window of opportunity to invest all of your energy into swinging your knees to one side. Thankfully, you’ve chosen the side opposite to where you’ve placed your coffee, leaving more than enough room for an Eddie-sized shape to land in the small expanse of your living room. With perfect momentum, Eddie topples over with your legs still firmly squeezing into his sides, forcing him onto his back as you take your winning position atop him. Straddling him like a schoolyard bully about to steal some poor child’s lunch money, you shoot him a smug smile to rival his own. Eager fingers find his ribs, poking and prodding and relishing in how he squirms helplessly beneath you.

“Okay! Okay! I concede, you win.” His words are punctuated by grunts and laughter, along with frantic swats to your unrelenting hands. His flair for the dramatics has apparently rubbed off on you, throwing your fists skyward in victory.

“Yes! In your face, Munson.” Encroaching on his space slightly, you raise your eyebrows as you relish in your triumph, drawing your face closer to his to ensure he doesn’t miss a moment of your pride. His cheeks are flushed, strands of hair littering his forehead and lips curled into a permanent smirk. Adrenaline courses through your veins, the way one would experience after a heated game of gym class dodgeball during childhood years. Giddy pride, pure indulgence over something so trivial. With a flourish, your pointer finger boops his nose condescendingly. “I own you.”

It’s hard to miss the way Eddie’s chest rises beneath you at your utterance, how his already racing heart somehow paces up a notch. He knows better than to wriggle, to give any unjust indications of discomfort beneath the soothing weight of your figure. Instead, his outlet for his energy manifests through the tips of his fingers, snaking their way around your hips. Through the thin cotton of your sweatpants, you feel the firmness of his touch. Calloused fingers mindlessly caressing circles over the fabric, setting the nerve endings hidden beneath alight.

“You sure do.” Words barely a decibel above mumbling, as if they had slipped out with no intention of being heard by anyone other than the thinker. And unluckily, they don’t go unnoticed by you.

Suddenly, you drop back into your body. The body currently situated above Eddie, knees either side of his waist caging him. Straddling him. Your breath catches, intellectualizing that you should probably dismount him and put much needed distance between the pair of you. But every square inch of Eddie’s framework refutes, screams and aches for this moment to last a beat longer. Begs for indulgence, fingers gripping at your waist a hint firmer, willing you to linger about his figure for an eternity. Shock waves seep through the pores of his fingertips, nullifying the internal debate you wage with yourself, leaving you needy. Possessed by comfort. Driven by the need for connection.

Every shaky rise and fall of his chest, every circle completed by talented fingers, every miniscule shift of his waist beneath you, left you desperate for more. Simultaneously, these actions were more than enough and not even close to being enough.

But, as with all good things, this comes to a short and sharp end as a firm knock rings out against your door. Your response isn’t immediate, no knee-jerk action to jump up and attend to your visitor, just an acknowledging head turn in the direction of the entrance. Instead, you linger, as if to mourn a moment cut short. Not knowing, but praying, there will be another like it soon.

“I’ll get it.” As if Eddie, pinned beneath you, could have any say in the matter. He relinquishes his grip on your waist, freeing you unwillingly. Climbing somewhat unsteadily to your feet, you turn your attention to the door, swinging it open to reveal a tired-looking Wayne.

“Mornin’, darlin’. Hope I didn’t wake you.” He apologizes, placing a hand on the door-frame.

“Not at all! Eddie and I were just-”

“What’re you doing here? You should be sleeping, old man.” Eddie’s voice cuts in behind you, you don’t need to turn around to hear the cheeky grin spread across his face.

“‘T’s what I was tryin’ to do, but I got a call from the shop. Somethin’ about one of the guys being sick, they want you to come in.”

“Ah, but of course. No place I’d rather be on a fine day like this.” His words are dripping with sarcasm. “Let me just grab my clothes, I’ll be out in a sec.”

Feet scuffle into the bedroom as you take a step back to invite Eddie’s uncle inside.

“Would you like a coffee, Wayne?” He takes a step into the living room, eyes landing on the playmat spread out.

Shit, Audrey.

For someone concerned over whether or not she was alive ten minutes earlier, your motherly instincts evaporated quickly. Lucky for you, you were blessed with a low maintenance baby, her greedy hands attempting to pick up the discarded caterpillar once again that has landed far too out of reach. Wayne’s weary eyes light up at the sight of her. “Oh, hang on, let me introduce you!”

A few short strides is all it takes to reach the mat, arms extending downwards to pick your daughter up and interrupt her important retrieval mission. Her knees scrunch up to her chest, a steady stream of drool leaving her parted lips. You settle her on your shoulder, tucking her face to your chin so you can leave a quick kiss on her forehead before turning back to your visitor.

“Wayne, this is Audrey.” It’s hard to hide your pride as you present her to him, like all mothers you’re sure you’ve got the cutest baby in the whole world. And her, a picture of big brown eyes, chubby cheeks and a gummy smile, does little to quell this notion. The older man’s weathered face transforms into a smile, extending a hand out to her.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Audrey.” He shakes her tiny palm in his, the formality of it causing you to giggle. He runs his hand across her mess of hair, which seldom tames it. “She’s as pretty as a picture, sweets. Glad to finally see her in the flesh, swear Eddie never shuts up about the two of you.”

“Is that right?” You don’t get an answer before Eddie comes strolling back into the room, clothes in hand and boots unlaced.

“Time to make some money! You two stay out of trouble, especially this one.” He wants a warning finger at Audrey, who shoots him her best puppy dog eyes. Grinning, he presses his lips to her chubby cheek, leaving numerous obscenely loud wet kisses behind. Audrey giggles, Eddie’s attention is her favorite kind. Once satisfied, he places his palm on the side of your head to give you a quick peck on your crown. Funny, you can’t help but feel jealous of your daughter at this moment. “See you later.”

And with that, Eddie heads out the door past his uncle, who shoots you a small wave.

“Come knocking if you need anything, darlin’.”

“I will, thanks Wayne.”

Closing the door behind you, you look down at Audrey before heading to the kitchen. The day is still young, you have plenty of time to indulge in a slow morning with your daughter in your arms.

“Looks like we’re having a girls day.”

“I’m sorry, you what?!” Robin’s shock is enough to cause Audrey to stir in her capsule, nestled on the desk in the back room. Being the good friend that you are, you elected to grab Robin a coffee for her lunch break, the pair of you now sitting opposite one another on unsteady metal chairs. Her tuna salad is now all but forgotten with your revelation, giving the side of the black capsule a comforting tap. “Sorry, Squid. You rest that gorgeous big head of yours. Didn’t mean to wake you since your mom just dropped the bombshell that she and Eddie nearly k-“

“Oh my god, I don’t know if that’s what it was!” Your fingers drum nervously on the cardboard cup, trying to avert Robin’s stern gaze, like a student being lectured by their principal.

“Sure, he was probably just leaning in to count your freckles.”

“Shit, I mean, maybe I gave him the wrong idea?” You contemplate the idea with furrowed brows. “Like, y’know, asking him to share my bed and all…”

“Oh no, Eddie’s not like that.” Enthralled in your story, Robin chimes in through a mouthful of pasta. “Douche-nuts like Andy? Totally. A girl in his bed is free game. But Eddie? He treads carefully when it comes to the ladies. He must have been getting some serious vibes from you.”

“Well-“

“Did you give him vibes? Oh, you so did.”

“No!” You think for a beat. “I mean, I don’t think so- I don’t know! It was just- it was nice.”

“Nice? Dude, the last time you kissed a guy for ‘nice’, you ended up with her.” She points her fork at Audrey, raising her eyebrows all the while.

“Well, yeah, it just felt, like- comfortable. He’s just a good guy, and it’s been a while since I was around someone like him. And Audrey loves him to death. But, I don’t know- maybe it was a stupid thing to do…”

Trailing off, you take another sip of your coffee, the much needed caffeine picking you up from your post tickle-attack adrenaline dump earlier. Robin picks around at pieces of flaky fish stuck to the sides of the Tupperware container, uncharacteristically quiet. It makes you nervous.

“What? I can smell your hair burning from how hard you’re thinking.” You chuckle somewhat shyly. Robin takes a deep inhale as her eyes meet yours with a small smile, eyes fixating on a small paint scuff on the wall.

“Do you think it’s maybe… too soon?”

Eyes widening slightly at her insinuation, you shuffle forward in your chair.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- you’ve had a huge year. We all have. And Eddie’s wonderful, but I just can’t help but think-“

“What?”

“- that maybe you just need to give it a bit more time. Before, y’know, you get involved again.”

“Well, shouldn’t I be doing things like this? You know, the whole moving on thing?”

“Of course you should! It’s just-” Robin takes a sharp inhale, balling her hands into fists the way she does when she’s suppressing something. You can tell there’s more she wants to say. Words dancing on the tip of her tongue remaining caged, mind ceasing the unshared notion before it can spill out. You know better than to press, and so, you say nothing. “- you don’t know what the future holds. Things change, Audrey’s going to grow up so fast so I just want you to savor these moments with her. Give yourself some time, okay?”

It’s hard to avoid the Steve-sized elephant in the room right now, you understand what she’s implying. But the more time passes, the more you come to accept the fact that he’s not coming back, you find yourself looking at the future. After all, you have needs, not necessarily just physical, but emotional. Longing for comfort, safety, care to give and receive with someone outside of platonic friendships. You’ve spent months upon months trying to work out where to put your love for Steve now, shoving it into the quietest corners of your mind and doing your best to ignore it. But that care will always be there, it’s a monster you’re learning to become friends with. A beast with whom you can live side by side.

But you know Robin’s right. I mean, Audrey has been earthside for six weeks, and you’re just coming to terms with your new identity as a mother. Mentally, you understand that you need to prioritize yourself, begin standing your own ground for the sake of you and your daughter. Unfortunately, your heart is telling a different story.

With a defeated sigh, you shoot Robin an acknowledging smile.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I know, I’m always right.” She quips back, polishing off the rest of her tuna salad and placing it beside a snoozing Audrey. “Oh shit, before I forget-“

She rummages around in her coat pocket, pulling out a slim, black wallet.

“This is Eddie’s. Accidentally grabbed it on my way out last night thinking it was mine. Take a couple of bucks out and give it back to him later, would you?”

Smiling, you shove the wallet into your bag, knowing full well you’re not about to rob the metalhead after the amount of diapers he’s changed in the last 12 hours.

Just go home.

You don’t need to drive all the way out there.

You’ll see him later.

Thoughts on repeat like a broken record plague your drive to the auto repair shop, located on the outskirts of Hawkins. Close enough to drive to without it being an inconvenience, but far enough out of the way for it to not convincingly qualify as “oh, I was just passing by!”. By the time your car is rattling along the gravel driveway to the shop, you wish you’d taken the time to straighten out your story, hoping you won’t be bothering Eddie in the middle of his work day. Audrey, clearly tired from this morning’s antics, is dead asleep in her car seat. You take care not to stir her as you swap her back into her capsule, readjusting her beanie and tucking her duck-covered blanket in around her tiny frame. As you swing the car door closed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window. The sunny day has been a perfect excuse to put in a bit of extra effort, a long floral dress the perfect scapegoat to leave constricting jeans at home. A small gust of wind blows through your freshly washed hair, doing little to dull the warmth on your skin from the unobstructed sun. Black Converse scuff along the gray gravel, sending small stones flying before your free hand pushes open the office door, the bell above jingling to alert the building of your presence.

The hum of the aircon is the only noise heard above the distant tinkering in the adjacent workroom, the steady flow of air causing paper’s on the receptionists desk to flutter beneath a cat-shaped paperweight. A mess of graying curls shoots up from behind the desk, an older lady shooting you a smile as she takes her seat. “May I help you?” Readjusting the baby carrier in your hand, you make your way to the desk before placing Audrey down on the carpet. “Oh, hi! I’m just here to see Eddie. Is he around?”

Her eyebrows raise slightly, she must not be accustomed to customer’s coming in and willingly seeking out an acquitted murderer. “I think so, he should be in the workroom-”

“He is.” A gruffer, older voice interjects from the doorway to the break room, a half-eaten PB&J sandwich in hand. A man, likely in his late forties, wearing the same brand of work overalls Eddie does, enters the office space, meandering behind the desk. “He’s working on the silver minivan at the moment.”

“Oh, wonderful! I’ll go and grab him for you, doll. Won’t be a moment, take a seat.”

“Thank you.” Shooting her a grateful smile, you oblige, picking up the capsule and making your way to the worn sand-colored loveseat in the corner. Placing the capsule down beside you, you give a stirring Audrey a small tickle on her side.

“Good morning, miss.” Audrey’s eyes flutter open, taking in the unfamiliar building. The man behind the desk watches the pair of you, taking another bite of his mediocre lunch.

“She’s a cutie. I remember when my daughter’s were that small, long time ago now. Miss those days before they saw me as a walking credit card.” The older mechanic chuckles, taking a few cautious steps towards you. With maybe three regular faces to make conversation with, one being a baby, you welcomed the opportunity for a chat.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, she’s cute but still gives me plenty of grief. But with a face like that, she knows she can get away with it.” Your joke lands well with the older man, who shoots you a kind smile in return.

“What’s her name?”

“Audrey. Although she goes by Squid, most of the time.” The man’s expression further lightens, brows quirking as he studies you from head to toe.

“Oh, this is the famous Audrey!” Chuckling out a confused exhale, the man elaborates. “We’ve heard all about her, she’s a legend ‘round these parts. You, too.” Heat flushes your cheeks, that embarrassing yet flattering notion of gossip around you causes a million thoughts to rush through your head.

“Good things, I hope?”

“You bet. Eddie’s got a picture of you stuck in his locker and everything, came in looking proud as punch after she was born. Told us everything, how your friend passed out in the delivery room-”

“Yeah, my friend, Robin.” You can’t help but smile and shake your head at the memory, hilarious in hindsight.

“- What a classic! Not that I blame her, nearly did the same thing with my missus. But Eddie, y’know he’s not much of a talker, wouldn’t shut up about how well his girl did, how perfect the baby is-”

“Sorry, his-”

There’s no time for answers when the workroom door swings open, the receptionist returning with Eddie. Wiping oil residue off his fingers with an old rag, he’s a perfect picture of the modern working man. His hair is tied back in a ponytail, loose strands stuck to his temples from the day’s work. His overalls are unbuttoned to his navel, a stained wife-beater underneath clinging to his sweaty skin. Oh, god.

“Hey, you.” His expression is laced with concern. “Everything okay? Wasn’t expecting you to swing by.” “No, no! Everything’s cool, um. I just-” The rugged image of a man before you causes you to trip over your words, rendering you a giddy school girl talking to her crush.

“Squid missing me already, isn’t she?” He shoots a wide smile into the capsule, Audrey, now waking up and smiling at Eddie, sticks her tongue out slightly as her gummy smile grows. Reaching into the carrier, he gently untucks her blanket and pulls her out, admiring your outfit of choice for her today. Snuggled up in a sherpa-material pink onesie, he gives her a quick kiss on her forehead before propping her into the crook of his shoulder. “Thought I told you to stay out of trouble, hm? Wanna tell me what you did?”

With each sweet word Eddie mutters to Audrey, Robin’s sensible ideas are thrown right out of the metaphorical window. Hell, maybe a second baby wouldn’t be the worst idea.

“Oh, Bob! Gary needs you out back, can’t find his drillbits.” The receptionist calls out to the older man from behind the desk, busying herself flipping through the address book of clients.

“Right, I best get back to work then.” Bob gives the two of you a small nod. “Nice to meet you darl, hope to see you around.”

The mechanic leaves, but his words linger in the space like thick smog. His girl. Surely you didn’t hear that right. But, the words evoke a distant memory of being at your ultrasound appointment, how Eddie buttered up the receptionist and joked about not letting his girl go into the room by herself. He was joking. That must be what happened here, he’d just made a similar joke to his co-workers. No big deal…

“Did you, uh, need something?” Eddie’s question snaps you out of your thought spiral. “Or did you just want to give me a tiny apprentice for the day? Which I’m not opposed to, but I should warn you there’s quite a few sharp objects in there, plus I don’t think she’s strong enough to hold a wrench for me.”

“Sorry, yeah. Didn’t mean to bother you at work. Uh, Robin accidentally took your wallet last night and wanted me to drop it off to you.” Pulling the sleek wallet out of your bag, you hand it back to its rightful owner. Eddie studies the object with confusion, flashing it your way.

“Thank you, but- you drove all the way out here to drop my wallet off?”

“Yeah, well, I was kind enough not to rob you, but given how ungrateful you are for me driving all the way here to return it, I’m rethinking my good nature.” Eddie’s smile grows at your sarcastic retort, he loves having someone around that he can spar with when it comes to banter.

“You gonna hold me hostage and drive me to the nearest ATM?”

“Actually, I’m just gonna let Audrey drool all over you until you sign the deed to your trailer over to me.”

Eddie’s expression turns deadpan.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.” You quip, equally as serious. “Actually, I’m just gonna watch you hold her for a while. But, you know, I think she’s due for a diaper change…”

“Fine! Take me for all I’m worth, god.” He hands your daughter back to you, nose scrunched up but doing little to hide his growing smirk. “Well, I’d repay your generosity with dinner tonight, but I’ve gotta stay back late. Shop’s closed tomorrow and need to get everything ready for the customer’s Monday morning. Can we take a raincheck?”

“Of course. I mean, I know where you live, so…”

Eddie shakes his head as he picks up the capsule, gesturing for the door.

The receptionist gives you a friendly wave as you exit, Eddie giving you a squeeze on the shoulder before retreating back inside.

“Get home safely, trouble.”

A new record plays on repeat as you drive home.

His girl.

The days roll on, another week passes without incident. With a quiet Friday night on the cards, Robin joins you for a movie night before the pair of you inevitably pass out on the sofa together.

Life is peaceful. Uneventful. Bliss.

Until you’re awoken by the flash of red and blue through the living room windows, breaking you out of your slumber. It’s well past midnight, and the commotion outside your door causes your blood to run cold. Leaping to your feet, you tear the sheer curtain ajar to see the doors of the police van slamming shut, a man in uniform escorting a familiar silhouette to the patio of the opposing trailer.

“Robin!” Rushing to your friend’s side, you give her a firm shake.

“What?” She grumbles, still fighting off the call of sleep.

“The police are outside.” Her eyes shoot open at your revelation, launching herself across the room to the window.

“Oh, shit.”

Before you can comprehend, she’s swinging the door open and running outside, shouting out to the pair in the dark trailer park. Audrey remains oblivious to the commotion, and you make the snap judgment that she’ll be okay if you leave her for just a moment to join Robin outside. Pulling on the nearest pair of shoes and grabbing your keys, you dart out the door and jog across the gravel road to the vehicle.

The cold night is illuminated by the flashing lights refracted off the walls of Eddie’s trailer, making shadows out of the two men at the doorstep. As you draw closer, you realize the red splotches marking Eddie’s face are not resulting from the lights. His nose is bloody, a small cut on his cheekbone prominent and angry, face contorted into a permanent scowl. He’s a mess.

“Hop! What the fuck happened?” Robin calls out to the older man, who shoots her a disapproving look.

“This one thought it would be a good idea to start a fight.” Hopper has a firm grip on Eddie’s collar, soldier-marching him to the front door. “Got there before he could break any bones.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would’ve if you let me get a few more punches in.”

“You got in a fight?” Shock and disbelief lace your warranted reaction, words small in the vast night. The underlying hurt in your voice hurt Eddie more than any blow landed that night.

“No! I mean- it wasn’t like that. You should have heard him, he started it-”

“I don’t care who started it! I’m gonna be getting a call from some trust-fund baby’s dad tomorrow wanting your ass in a cell.” Hopper roughly yanks Eddie towards him, getting right in his personal space. “Now, is that what you want after all the strings I pulled for you last year?”

“Shit, Hop. We’ll take Eddie from here, clean him up inside.” Robin pleads with the policeman before turning her attention to you. “Let me deal with this, okay?”

All you can do is nod. With a loud sigh, Hopper releases the metalhead from his grip, and you quickly rush to his side and grab a fistful of his jacket, leading him towards your patio.

You swing the door closed behind you so violently it causes Eddie to jump. Pure anger courses through your body like poison, unable to stop the venom spilling out.

“What the fuck? You got into a fight?!”

“Listen, I-” Eddie raises his hands in defense, but it’s hopeless to stop your lecture.

“Who was it?” He looks down sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. “Eddie, I said who was it?”

“Andy.” Mumbling his words, it does little to calm you down.

“Oh my god, you can’t be serious.” You run your hands down your face with exasperation as you begin to pace the room.

“Please, I can-”

“Do you understand how dangerous that was? You could have gotten hurt.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Your face is busted up, Eddie! Why would you do something like that?”

“Look, everyone is just making a big deal over nothing-“

“Nothing?! Eddie, you need to be keeping a low profile, if the town starts talking about you-“

“They already are, sweetheart.” Eddie spits back, much more harshly than he wanted to. He is quick to readjust his tone, scoffing his next words. “I could turn into fucking Mother Teresa and it wouldn’t do a damn thing to change what this town thinks of me.”

“Why did you do it?” For a moment, your fury subsides, genuine curiosity taking its place. Eddie sighs, pacing the room nervously.

“I, uh- ran into him when I went to grab some dinner for us. He was with a few of his meathead friends, probably out drinking. Started mouthing off to me, nothing I wasn’t used to, so I just tried to ignore it. Then he mentioned you-“ His fingers curl into his fist as he recalls the incident. “- I’m not gonna repeat what he said, but it fucking boiled my blood. I warned him to stop, but he didn’t, his friends were egging him on. So, that’s when I threw a punch, before I knew it Hopper showed up and pulled us apart- it was fucking stupid.“

“You got that right.” Expression stony, contrasting the erratically pumping heart within your chest. “I’m really disappointed in you, Eddie.”

“Join the five-mile queue, sweetheart.”

He looks completely pathetic right now. Dried blood clinging to his upper lip, the shiner beneath his left eye growing aggressive. Maternal instincts tell you to clean him up, ice his wounds and tell him he’s going to be okay. But anger permeates through your pores, causing your palms to grow clammy and making the room entirely too hot for your liking.

“I think you should go home.”

“Please-”

“Just go, Eddie! I can take care of myself, alright? I don’t need you out there defending me.” You’re hurt. You’re angry. You’re scared. And you know you’re not about to take it out on him.

His brows furrow, mouth warping into an exasperated smile, devoid of any happiness. Shaking his head, he makes a beeline for the door.

“Sure. It’s not like you’ll need me around anymore soon.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s cool, Audrey doesn’t need a fuck-up like me around.” His hand clenches around the door handle, tendons in his jawline flexing as he grinds his teeth. “Never signed up to be a dad, anyway. I don’t deserve this.”

Eddie slams the door before he sees the tears swelling in your eyes. He’s not sure if he could survive that heartbreak, knowing the words he just uttered hurt far worse than anything that left Andy’s lips that evening.

This is what drowning feels like.

Eddie shuts the front door to his trailer, palms pressed to the cool glass window. Breathing feels like a chore, an activity of conscious choosing in which he has no interest in partaking. Eyes screwed shut, he tunes into the sounds of Robin and Hopper hushedly discussing something, rarely is Eddie so close to his own gossip.

Emotions suppressed deep in his subconscious trickle out of his eyes, his nose, his mouth, wetting the matted stain of blood stuck to stubble. It aches, how his stomach knots itself with every heaving sob manifesting in hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He curses his wicked tongue, the drawbridge having dropped to let forth indelible confessions flow into the small confines of your living room. He’s lost you. A fuck-up, despite every effort to do right. Inevitable, Eddie supposes, knowing fully how the cycles of relationships end in his life. And still, the regret hangs heavy in his gut, like a corpse weighed down with rocks in some desolate lake, never to be found. He would consider himself lucky to meet such a fate.

It's unclear how long he remains there, forehead pressed to the white partition, exorcizing the hurt from his body. With every convulsing gasp, every unsteady shake of his hands, he wills the pain to evaporate from the trailer. It hangs heavy in the room, engulfing him in a blanket of man-made misery, suffocating him.

The muttering between the pair outside subsides, bookmarked by the sound of tyres on gravel and the shutting of an adjacent door. The room is no longer washed in flashes of primary colors, rendering the interior dim bar the streak of moonlight making its way in. Silence and desolation fill the small room, now simultaneously too small and too large for Eddie to comfortably exist in alone.

Alone.

With unsteady steps, Eddie makes his way to the kitchenette, flicking on the overhead stove light. The room is bathed in sterile fluorescents, illuminating the stack of unwashed dishes in the sink as his eyes search for a wet rag. Ringed hands grip the lip of the bench, craving any form of physical stability. The burnt cheese stuck to the cast-iron griddle mocks him, craving his attention. He can’t look at the neglected chores a moment longer.

Like a specter floating through the room, he crouches down before his cassette player, mindlessly flicking through options in hope of drowning out his sorrows. Landing on Aerosmith’s self-titled album, he clicks open the contraption and places the cassette inside. Clicking it closed, he allows Steven Tyler’s voice to fill the empty airspace around him, Dream On playing at a comfortable volume to keep him company.

The raspy vocals transport him back to his van, parked in the parking lot of some diner. And you, in the passenger seat, happily chowing down on a hearty burger like it was the best meal you’d ever had. How simple it was, such a small gesture on his behalf eliciting such a fulfilling happiness within you. That was the day that Squid first kicked. He could never forget the sensation, tiny feet against tender skin, his palm pressed down on your growing belly. The first hello.

The pot begins to boil over once again, fresh tears pricking the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall. The words rattle around the inside of his head like the beads confined to Audrey’s caterpillar toy. He wishes he could take them back, his careless tongue letting his facade drop for a brief moment and exposing his deepest fears.

Beyond the crescendoing music, he hears it.

A faint rap at the door, hands meeting glass.

Like a fawn finding its legs, Eddie stands, consciously placing one foot in front of the other. Unsure of his fate awaiting him on the other side of the partition.

He swings the door open, and should feel a wash of relief.

Instead, he is hit with a fresh pang of guilt at the devastatingly beautiful sight before him.

There you are, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed tears against bloodshot rims. Lip curled inwards, quivering slightly. So delicate. Your previously witnessed anger has dropped its deceitful mask to reveal its true identity; grief.

“Eddie.” He thought he would never tire of you uttering his voice, and yet, his name feels dirty being spoken by such fragile lips. Unworthy of a place within your mouth. He doesn’t reply. “I’m so sorry.”

Eddie shrinks in on himself, quickly facing away and retreating into the safety of the kitchenette. He won’t be accepting any apologies from you, knowing they’re completely unnecessary. Your comforting words twist the knife buried deep into his abdomen, further exacerbating the guilt he’s experiencing.

“Please-” Glancing over his shoulder at your quivering words, he watches you take a cautious step towards him. “I- I overreacted. It- I was just scared.”

Eddie’s face contorts into a grimace, the sudden muscle movement in his cheek causing a fresh wave of pain around the tender wound. As a steady stream of tears decorate your flushed cheeks, words begin spilling out uninhibited in their wake.

“I’m sorry I told you to go, I didn’t want you to. I just, I needed to process this. You fucking scared the shit out of me, Eddie. But I-” A hiccup contracts your diaphragm, dismantling any remaining composure. “- I really don’t want to lose you. I don’t know if I could survive that again. And what you said earlier, I know you didn’t sign up for any of this-”

Eddie wishes the ground would open him up and swallow him whole. Relieve him of the regret that is eating him alive from the inside out.

“- And I’m trying my best, but it’s so fucking hard. I know I can do this on my own. But I want you around, I want you in Audrey’s life but I know it’s a lot. And I don’t want you to feel like you need to stay if it’s not what you want, and I’m so sorry. You were right, you don’t deserve this. And-” A sob dictates your quivering words. “- I’ll let you go if that’s what you want. I don’t think I deserve you.”

For the first time since getting home, Eddie feels like he can breathe. Like you are the source of the world’s oxygen, allowing you to fill his lungs. Standing stock still, glued to the floor beneath you, he understands that you are expecting no particular response. Filled to the brim with such strength, such self-respect, it’s contagious.

There is no logic to his next moves, driven purely by the desire to comfort you. To be unabashedly close to you. To indulge, even for a fleeting moment, in you. His eyes locked onto yours, watching as he closes the gap between the pair of you. Clumsy feet met yours, sending shockwaves through Eddie’s system. Clasping your soft cheeks beneath his palms, running his thumb along your cheekbone, finding the firm ridges beneath supple skin. He wastes no time in pressing his wanting lips to yours, relishing in their plump sanctuary. It’s greedy, the way he laps you up, ringed fingers snaking along your jawline in a firm hold. The tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, growing damp from the residue of tears staining your face. You soften into his touch, hands finding the front of his shirt and balling it up into fists, desperately clinging onto him. As if to close off any remaining space between you, desiring to be fully consumed by one another. Boldly, his tongue meets your parted lips, relishing in their salty taste. A panting sign releases into his mouth, breaths intermingling under the sweetest of circumstances. The kiss is fumbling, entirely imperfect, teeth clashing as you greedily lap each other up. Neediness only somewhat satiated as Eddie feels the thrum of your pulse beneath his palm, the quickening of your heartbeat. A spiraling loss of control, motions dictated only by instincts. But restraint takes over, intellectualizing that you need verbal comfort in this moment too. Fighting off every screaming nerve ending in his body, Eddie’s lips pull away from yours minutely, catching much needed breath. Hot air fans across his sensitive lips as you do the same, opening your glossy eyes to gaze up at him. As your gaze bores into his, the regret within his belly is blanketed by an overwhelming sense of comfort. The bridge of his nose meets yours, bone on bone, shutting his eyes to relish in the sensation of his fingers laced around the crook of your jawline. The scent of your drugstore perfume lingering on your clothes, the track forgotten in the background drawing to a conclusion. For the first time in his sorrowful life, he is living for the moment.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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