i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you (an eddie munson fix-it fic)
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader; Eddie Munson/You
Summary: Eddie tries to sacrifice himself and be the hero, but you're not letting him go that easily.
Or
What if there was one more person on Eddie and Dustin's team when they went into the Upside Down? What if they were able to get to him in time?
Rating: M(ature)
Warnings: Adult language, some descriptions of blood and violence. *** Some spoilers for the Season 4 Finale if you haven't seen it.
A/N: Eddie Munson is the new loml. Seriously giggling and kicking my feet just thinking of him. I'm already thinking of writing a smutty ch 2 and another kas fic. anyway, hope you enjoy! <3
Ao3 Link: Here
Update: Links to the smutty sequel - Tumblr / Ao3
“Alright, you’re next, sweetheart!” Eddie shouted, and his elbow shoved you toward the makeshift rope.
You stumbled as you raggedly gasped in the tainted air of this godforsaken place, but you grabbed the length of knotted sheets in your trembling hands.
“What about you?” you asked, snapping your gaze back to Eddie, who was standing between you and the door that the demo-bats were steadily splintering into pieces.
“I’ll be right behind you, princess!” Eddie tossed you a smile over his shoulder, but you could see the stark terror in his dark-brown eyes. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left you behind, now would I?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but an all-mighty crack suddenly echoed through the trailer.
“Hurry, go!” Eddie said as he turned to fully face the weakening door.
“Guys, hurry up!” Dustin yelled from above you, and you looked up to see the boy dancing around anxiously on the other side of the portal.
You knew you couldn’t waste any more time, but you threw Eddie one last look before you started pulling yourself up the rope. Your arms burned from the strain, and the unholy screeching of the demo-bats was making your ears ring, but before you knew it, you felt yourself cross the portal, gravity taking hold of you again and pulling you down.
“Eddie, come on, let’s go!” Dustin screamed as your back hit the mattress, and you looked up through the ceiling of the trailer, seeing Eddie’s pale, terrified, dirt-streaked face staring back at you.
You could still hear the demo-bats shrieking on the other side of the gate, could feel the cold splatter of their dark blood on your cheeks and collarbones. Your chest heaved as your lungs worked overtime, heart pounding a war march in your ears, but your wide, unblinking gaze was locked on Eddie Munson.
The dark-haired man was halfway up the rope, just a full more pull ups, and he would fall through and land on top of you. Dustin was still screaming— Eddie, you’re so close! Eddie! Let’s go!—but Eddie slowed, then stopped, and his eyes found yours.
They were scared, so scared… but also resolute, and realization washed over you like an ice cold wave.
No.
The word echoed through your mind before it fell from your lips.
“No!” you gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Eddie!”
But you were too late.
Eddie had let go of the rope, falling back onto his feet with a thud that shook you to your core.
“What are you doing?” Dustin yelled, and he reached for the rope, but Eddie sliced through it on the other side, the length of sheets collapsing onto the mattress at your feet. “Eddie, no! Stop, stop!”
The same words were screaming through your head, but you couldn’t find the breath to voice them. It felt like a fist was squeezing your lungs into clay. The center of your chest ached, and dots began to dance in the corners of your vision, blurred by tears.
“Eddie, what are you doing?!” Dustin moaned as he frantically gripped his head, and the two of you watched helplessly as the metalhead shoved the mattress on the other side away from the portal.
“I’m buying more time,” Eddie said, glancing up, or rather down, at you and Dustin. His dark eyes settled on yours for what felt like an endless moment, and his face twisted with sadness. “Henderson, get Obi out of here.”
The nickname— that stupid nickname— hit you like a blow to the chest, forcing the last bit of oxygen from your shriveled lungs.
Ever since you offered to tutor him last fall— in the hopes of making this his last senior year— he’d taken to giving you nicknames in retaliation, and not the usual “sweetheart” or “princess” he had been calling you from the moment he met you. No, he said that if you were truly going to be his mentor, then he should treat you with respect… by calling you “Gandalf” and “Master Obi-Wan” or Obi for short. Obi was his favorite, the one he resorted to most, to the point where Dustin and some of the others had started to call you that, too.
You had always rolled your eyes and playfully shoved Eddie every time he called you these things, but secretly, you loved it.
And now, it was tearing you to pieces.
“No, Eddie, please!” Dustin wailed, ripping you out of your reverie and back to the present.
Your eyes focused just in time to see Eddie slip out of sight on the other side of the gate, and the moment he was gone, every cell in your body rebelled.
No. No, this can’t happen. He can’t do this. I won’t let him.
All at once, you were suddenly in motion, shoving past a still screaming Dustin and stumbling toward the back of the trailer.
“Obi, where are you going?” the boy yelled after you, but you ignored him.
There was no time for talking. No time for explanations. No time, no time, notime.
You burst into Eddie’s bedroom, the door rebounding off the wall with a crunching sound. You ignored that, too, and frantically cast your eyes around the disheveled and messy room. The sight of Eddie’s guitar on the wall made your gut churn, the phantom echoes of his Upside Down concert still ringing in your ears. You half-expected demo-bats to come exploding out of the ceiling vent again, but you ignored the terrified skip of your heart as you fell to your knees and started rifling through the mess.
“Come on, come on,” you muttered, shoving aside dirty clothes, stray papers, old magazines.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dustin shouted from the doorway behind you. “Obi! We need to get back there! Eddie’s—”
“Aha!” you cheered in triumph, spotting your prize in a plastic bag beneath the dresser. You ripped it from its hiding place and dumped the contents on top of the dresser, DnD figurines and cassette tapes clattering to the floor.
The several cans of hairspray pinged as they bounced off each other, and you snapped them up, shaking them to estimate how much was left.
Not a lot, but enough. Thank god Eddie was a diva about his hair.
You shoved two of the cans into the waistband of your ripped jean shorts, one at each hip, and the third you grasped in your sweaty palm. Then you searched the mess on the dresser for a glint of metal, one you just saw a moment ago…
“There you are, bastard,” you said, snatching up the Zippo lighter perched precariously on the edge of the dresser. There were always half a dozen lighters in Eddie’s room at any given time, most usually lost and forgotten, but you were so grateful for this fact now as you shoved the Zippo in your pocket.
“Obi—” Dustin tried again, but you were suddenly whirling on him, grabbing his wrist, and sprinting back to the gate.
“Give me a boost.” You skidded to a stop beneath the portal and looked back at Dustin, who was pale and gaping at you.
“W-Wha—”
“Dustin!” you snapped, though you didn’t mean to. “We don’t have the time to build another rope, and Eddie is alone against a fucking army of bloodthirsty bats. Give me a goddamn boost!”
“I-I don’t know if I can,” he stammered out.
You frowned in confusion but then remembered the boy didn’t have fucking collarbones.
“Shit,” you cursed before your eyes fell on a rickety yellow chair. “Here!”
You dragged the chair under the gate and clambered up onto it, the metal legs groaning under your weight, but you were short, an inch or two shorter than even Dustin, and the ceiling seemed impossibly out of reach.
“Jump,” Dustin suddenly said, and when you looked down at him, his eyes were still scared but determined. Like Eddie’s had been. “Jump, and if you can reach the edge, I can push you through.”
There wasn’t time to think of alternatives, so you nodded quickly and shoved the third can of hairspray down the front of your shirt, in between your breasts and under the center band of your bra. The metal was cold against your skin, and you swore you could hear your thundering heartbeat echoing through the canister.
“Okay,” you breathed as you wiped your sweaty palms on your shorts. “Okay, I’ll go on three. Ready?”
“Shit,” Dustin said, his expression tortured, but he nodded. “Ready.”
You swallowed sharply as you looked up through the portal, the dark reflection of the Munson trailer staring back at you. Fear started to crawl up your spine like a million ants, but you ignored it as you bent your knees and prayed the wobbly chair beneath you held out.
“Alright, one,” you started, heart in your throat, flexing your fingers to get some feeling back into them. “Two… Three!”
On three, you jumped up with all your might, the chair screeching across the floor beneath you, but then you were in the air, your fingers extending, reaching…
And latching on to the edge of the gate.
The slick vines almost made you immediately lose your grip, but you dug your nails in deep, grunting as your shoulders strained against your body weight. Your legs kicked in the air, finding no purchase, until they smacked into something solid.
“Ow!” Dustin hissed. “Stop kicking!”
“Sorry,” you gasped, but that was all you could get out, because your arms were already starting to shake. You did stop kicking, though, and just hung there for a moment before you felt Dustin’s hands wrap around your feet and start to push.
You gritted your teeth and heaved yourself upwards, and with Dustin’s help, you started to breach the gate. First your head, then your shoulders, but as the Upside Down’s gravity latched onto you, you realized you forgot one important detail.
The landing.
“Oh, shit!” you yelped as your hands lost purchase, and you felt Dustin’s hands slip from your ankles as you plummeted toward the trailer floor.
“Obi!” Dustin yelled.
Your body flailed through the air, and you had just enough time to turn your body so your shoulder— and not your face— took the brunt of the fall.
The impact still knocked the breath and the sense out of you. You also heard a dull crunch as your shoulder crashed into the shitty linoleum tile, and a moment later, red-hot pain lanced through your body.
“Fuck!” you gasped, rolling onto your back and squeezing your eyes shut. A kaleidoscope of colors danced across the back of your eyelids, pulsing in time with the pain radiating from your shoulder.
You must have broken something. At least fractured it. The pain was so overwhelming, your mouth started to fill with saliva, but you swallowed it down, along with the bile rising in the back of your throat.
Eddie. Eddie needed you. He was alone. He needed help.
“Obi!” Dustin shouted again, and your eyes flew open as you sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” you croaked, dissolving into a cough and then a groan as the motion aggravated your shoulder.
You didn’t have time for this. Eddie didn’t have time for this. It had already been several minutes since you’d seen him. And since you weren’t being eaten alive, the bats must have left the trailer. But you could still hear them screeching, so they weren’t far off, which meant Eddie was still close by.
You could save him.
The thought had you rolling upright, biting through your tongue to keep from vomiting. Somehow, you ended up on your feet, though your vision was blurry with tears.
“I’m… gonna go find him,” you grunted out as you fixed your eyes on the splintered front door of the trailer.
“No, Obi, wait for me,” Dustin pleaded, and you heard him start to scrape the chair back into place.
“Can’t,” you said through gritted teeth, but then you suddenly heart a faint shout coming from outside the trailer.
A very human shout.
Eddie.
You were moving before you realized it, stumbling and then jogging out of the trailer, Dustin’s voice growing fainter and fainter behind you.
“Obi, wait, stop!”
But you couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. The pain in your shoulder even felt distant at this point, removed, muffled. As you staggered down the road, you reached into your shirt with your good arm and pulled out the can of hairspray that had somehow stayed snuggled under your bra. You were distantly grateful that the cans hadn’t exploded when you crashed into the trailer floor, but then Eddie’s voice echoed out across the trailer park again, and all other thoughts evaporated from your brain.
Because now, he was screaming.
The sound tore at your insides, infinitely more painful than a busted shoulder, and you rounded a corner to see a fucking tornado of bats circling the middle of the road.
Circling Eddie.
He was trying to fight them off, but they were so many, too many, and you watched in horror as one lashed its tail around his neck, yanking him off his feet. You saw him hit the asphalt before more of the bats descended and blocked him completely from view.
No, no, no.
Now, you were running, sprinting, gripping the can of hair spray in your fist like a sword as you used your good hand to dig the Zippo out of your pocket. The bats were so focused on Eddie, they didn’t even notice you approach, and within the blink of an eye, you were upon them. Pain flared through your shoulder like a supernova as you used your bad arm to flick open the lighter, and then you lifted the hairspray in front of it and aimed blindly at the cyclone of bats. You hit the striker as you simultaneously pressed down on the hairspray nozzle, and a column of fire erupted from your hand.
Your distantly heard Eddie’s voice at the back of your head, cackling. Obi uses fireball, anndddd that’s a hit!
And a hit it was.
The demo-bats directly in front of you immediately went up in flames, screeching and shrieking an unholy cacophony. They flailed and pinwheeled into each other, spreading the blaze, and one-by-one, they started to fall out of the sky and crash into the asphalt, little more than piles of smoldering leather skin and ashes.
But more importantly, a path was suddenly cleared before you, and you could see Eddie lying on the ground less than thirty feet away.
Adrenaline was making every nerve in your body buzz and sing, drowning out the terror, so when the hairspray can in your hand abruptly sputtered, empty, you didn’t miss a beat as you tossed it away and yanked another one from your waistband.
The bats were wailing as they burned, and you kept the column of flames going as you stumbled over their smoldering corpses. Some of the flying bastards were starting to catch on, though, and they dive-bombed you as you reached Eddie. You turned your back on his prone form— refusing to look down, refusing to see if he was still breathing because he had to be— and you lifted up your arms as you aimed for the eye of the winged storm.
“Fuck youuuuuu!” you bellowed, spinning in a circle to roast every demo-bat that came within five feet.
One of the bats directly above you shrieked so loudly your ears popped, and you aimed for the fucker just to shut it up. Its ugly snarling face was swallowed by the inferno, and its screech cut off as it suddenly went limp and plummeted from the sky.
You gasped but then remembered Eddie lying at your feet, and you didn’t even have to think about it as you turned and threw your body over his.
The grunt that escaped his chest when you landed on him would have made you weep for joy— alive, alive, he’s alive— but an instant later, you felt the corpse of the demo-bat slam into your spine while still on fire.
You cried out wordlessly as the flames scalded your shoulder blades, the smell of burning hair filling your nose, and you immediately rolled off Eddie. The bat carcass flopped to the side, and you kicked it away, rolling on your back again to put out any residual embers.
The pain in your shoulder was worse now, rearing its head past the adrenaline rushing through your veins, and now your back felt like a charred grill.
But you couldn’t think about that, couldn’t give into the pain, because the demo-bats were still screaming around you, and now they were pissed.
You scrambled to your feet and pulled your third and last can of hairspray from your waistband. You’d lost the previous one in your fall, and there was no time to look for it amongst the smoldering bodies surrounding you. Thankfully, you’d kept hold of the Zippo, because there were still dozens of bats circling overhead, and in the brief reprieve from the flames, they decided to get bold again.
They dive-bombed you in unison, and your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the face of what now seemed like countless winged nightmares. Their snarling maws, filled with teeth, descended on you like a plague, and you just barely got the Zippo and hairspray up before you were torn to pieces.
Flames exploded into life a moment later, and most of the bats veered off, but one fucker wasn’t deterred, and it swooped and raked its talons across your arm before spiraling off, burning.
“Shit!” you screamed as white-hot agony raced up your arm, and a gush of your own blood arched through the air, glinting in the lightning and flames flashing around you.
The bat had gotten you across your good forearm and bicep, and now both of your arms felt heavy as lead. Your body ached to drop them, to give up, but you refused.
You weren’t going to die. Because if you died, Eddie was going to die, and you were not going to let that happen.
“Come on, you sons of bitches!” you roared at the sky, baring your teeth at the demo-bats.
They screeched out their own war cry and dove once more, and you were there to meet them with flames and rage.
What felt like an eternity passed as you roasted the bats left and right, but then you felt the hairspray sputter in your hand, and your stomach dropped into your shoes. You only had a brief instant to panic before the flames died out all at once, and you stared at the can like it had personally betrayed you. But then you tossed it away like you had the others, shoved the lighter in your pocket out of habit, and gasped for breath as you searched for something, anything, to keep the bats at bay.
A flash of lightning illuminated the gloom around you, glinting off some metal half buried under the embers of a demo-bat corpse. Recognition hit you like a bus, and you lunged forward, dragging Eddie’s handmade shield and spear into your hands. Your busted shoulder screamed as you hefted the shield up in front of you, spikes pointed out, and the fingers of your opposite hand were slick with your own blood on the haft of the spear.
You crouched defensively like you had seen Eddie and Dustin do when they were fucking around in that field what felt like a lifetime ago, and your heartbeat was so loud in your ear, you almost didn’t hear Eddie’s voice.
“Obi,” he rasped behind you, but his voice sounded wrong, wet, and your insides froze. “O-bi… run.”
“No,” you said right before the bats seemed to realize you were out of fire, and then there was no more time for talking.
The cloud of them descended upon you, blocking out the sky, and you stepped back to protectively stand over Eddie’s body as you lifted you shield, closed your eyes, and braced for impact.
The first demo-bat to slam into the shield nearly knocked you off your feet, but you widened your stance and shouted wordlessly, extending your shield arm out until the pain was so great in your shoulder that you almost couldn’t feel it anymore. Bats kept slamming into the metal disk, one after another, and you lifted your spear, expecting one to swoop at you from behind.
But they didn’t.
In fact, after a moment, even the impacts against your shield stopped, and suddenly, it was eerily quiet. The demo-bats weren’t shrieking anymore, they were almost… whimpering. And the sound wasn’t coming from above you. It was coming from… below.
You tentatively peeked beyond your shield, bringing your spear in front of you, ready to impale anything that moved. But when you looked around, your eyes widened. The breath stilled in your lungs.
The sky was clear, and the demo-bats were… dead. Or dying. They twitched and writhed on the asphalt around you like worms after a big rain. Most of them were scorched in some manner, but some of them looked whole and unblemished, like they had just dropped out of the sky.
What the fuck?
You stood there panting for several seconds, but no more nightmares came swooping down out of the black clouds. The vines on the trailers around you didn’t come alive, a Demogorgon didn’t sprout of the ground and attack. There was… nothing.
Was it… was it over?
Before you could think any more about it, Eddie coughed behind you, and you whirled around.
“Eddie,” you gasped as you stumbled forward, your arms going limp at your sides. The shield and spear clattered onto the road, but you barely heard them, your eyes and all your attention focused on the man sprawled out at your feet.
It was the first time you had really looked at him since you started to attack the bats, and your breath immediately caught in your chest.
“Eddie,” you said again, but this time it was more of a whimper, your voice as weak as your buckling knees. You dropped into a kneeling position beside him, the hot asphalt digging and burning your bare skin, but it was all so very distant.
Because there was just so much blood surrounding Eddie.
His Hellfire shirt was torn to shreds, the gaping holes in the fabric matching the gaping holes in his skin. Blood trickled out of the jagged wounds, pooling on the road beneath him, spreading like oil slicks. You could feel some of it warm against your kneecaps, but the rest of you felt cold, ice cold.
“Well,” Eddie said, and his lips were red with blood as they flickered into a faint smile. “You… really proved yourself the master now, huh, Obi?”
“Shut up,” you replied reflexively, your go-to response when he was teasing you, but your voice cracked halfway through as tears blurred your vision. It felt as if you were watching this scene from outside your body, like you were seeing it at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.
Eddie laughed, which was his go to response, but he choked on a groan, coughing, blood now staining his teeth.
His pained noise snapped you back into your body, and you were suddenly moving, shuffling forward on your knees and pressing your hands into his gut. His hot blood pulsed through your fingers, slow and getting slower, and panic started to crawl up your throat.
“Goddamn it, Munson,” you said through your tears, keeping one hand on his stomach as you used the other to unknot the flannel tied around your waist. “Why’d you have to go and be such an idiot?”
You balled up the flannel and then quickly replaced your hand with it. Eddie groaned as you pressed down hard, but you needed to stop the bleeding.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you still muttered, hating the fact that you were hurting him.
“Eddie!”
Dustin’s voice was like the crack of a gun in the otherwise silent trailer park, making you flinch, but you refused to turn and face him. You listened as he stumbled across the bat-strewn asphalt, and a moment later, he was collapsing onto his knees on the other side of Eddie.
“Oh, god,” the boy whimpered, tears already streaking down his face. “Oh, god, Eddie.”
“Bad, huh?” the metalhead grunted beneath you, and you could feel how he struggled to get the words out.
Panic had latched onto the back of your tongue, pulling itself hand over hand upwards, and you knew you were moments away from screaming and never stopping.
“No, no, you’re gonna be fine,” Dustin said as he reached out and gently stroked the top of Eddie’s head. “J-Just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”
Hospital. The word rang through your head like a bell. You needed to get him to a hospital. If you could get him back through the gate, it was less than a ten minute drive, especially while speeding. He could make it.
He had to.
“Yes, yes, a hospital, we gotta get to the hospital,” you mumbled, the filter between your thoughts and words nonexistent now. Eddie’s blood was still burning your hands like a brand, but the flannel hadn’t soaked through yet. If you kept applying steady pressure, everything would be fine. “Dustin, I need rope, your shirt, anything that I can use to tie this flannel against him.”
“Y-Yeah, of course, here,” Dustin said, immediately shucking off part of his outfit. He handed you something that was part mesh, part ghillie suit, but it was elastic and flexible, which was what you needed.
“Okay, Eddie, I’m gonna have to shift you a little,” you warned, keeping one hand pressed to his torso as you slid your other one— the one holding the mesh fabric —underneath his side.
“Sure,” the dark-haired man mumbled, but his voice was very light, little more than a breath, and his eyes were starting to flutter.
You couldn’t waste any more time, so you shoved your arm beneath him. You skin scraped across the asphalt, tiny pinpricks of pain, but they were so easy to ignore as the you shoved your hand out on the other side of him.
“Dustin, grab it,” you ordered, and when he did, you quickly withdrew your hand and pressed it beside your other one on the man’s stomach. “This might hurt, Eddie, I’m sorry.”
“Wait, wait.” His dark brown eyes flickered open, finding yours. They looked so tired. And scared. “I-I think I just… need a second, okay?”
Dustin stifled a sob beside you, but your eyes were dry as you glared down at the man bleeding out beneath your fingers.
“Eddie, we don’t have a second,” you said. “We need to stop this bleeding before we can even move you, and then we have to somehow get you through the gate, and the hospital is still like ten minutes away, and goddamn it, why did you do this Munson?”
You gasped for breath at the end of your rant, your throat constricting, and the backs of your eyes started to feel hot again.
No, stop it, you couldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry because Eddie wasn’t going to die. You kept repeating this to yourself, even as Eddie coughed again, the sound wet, and smiled weakly up at you.
“I-I didn’t run away this time, though, right?” he asked, a begging for validation behind his dark eyes.
“No, no, you didn’t run,” Dustin said, voice choked.
“You’re… gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay, Henderson?” Eddie’s eyes slid from you to the boy on his other side, and his resigned tone suddenly infuriated you.
“No,” you snarled, Dustin sobbing out the same word. You pried one of your hands off Eddie’s stomach, leaning forward and grabbing both of Dustin’s. Your fingers were tacky with blood against his skin, but you ignored it as you met the kid’s eyes and maneuvered his hands. “Keep applying pressure. Hard. Here and here. Don’t let up.”
“W-What are you doing?” Dustin asked, but he did as instructed while you half turned and groped behind you.
You didn’t respond as your fingers closed around the haft of Eddie’s makeshift spear.
“Henderson,” Eddie coughed, but you refused to look at him. “Say it. Say ‘I’m gonna look after them.’”
“No, you’re gonna do that yourself,” Dustin sniffled as you turned back to face them.
You glanced down and saw blood was starting to drip from the flannel.
“Say it.” Eddie’s face was pleading.
“Don’t say shit, Dustin,” you growled, and then you leaned over and down so your face was hovering just over Eddie’s. “Do you hear that, Munson? I’m not letting your ass die, so shut the fuck up.”
Eddie’s bloody face twitched, too many emotions to name rippling across it, but you tore your eyes away and turned to Dustin.
“When I tell you to, move,” you said as you dug around in your pocket for the Zippo. Once it was in your hands, you flicked it open and laid the homemade spear across your lap.
“B-But I thought you said not t— what are you doing?” Dustin cut himself off, his wide eyes staring at where you were now running the Zippo’s flame along the knife used as the spear’s head.
“Pressure isn’t enough, he’s still bleeding,” you said in a flat, robotic tone, your eyes never leaving the lighter’s flame. “We need to cauterize the wounds. It’s the only way we’ll get him out of here in time.”
“Shittttt,” Dustin whined, and you knew if his hands weren’t glued to Eddie’s gut, they would be tearing at his hair.
“That… doesn’t sound fun,” Eddie rasped quietly.
“It won’t be,” you snapped and finally tore your eyes away from where the flat edge of the knife was beginning to glow orange. “That’s what you get for being stupid.”
“Aww, come on, princess.” He cracked a bloody smile. “You… can’t give me my hero moment? I-I think I was pretty badass. Let me go out in a blaze of glory.”
“No,” you spat, your voice cracking again as tears abruptly returned to your eyes with a vengeance. “No, because what about me? What the fuck am I supposed to do with you gone, Munson?”
Eddie blinked slowly at you, a numb sort of surprise flickering across his features.
“You’ll… be okay,” he said after a moment.
“No, I won’t,” you countered vehemently, and tears started to slip down your cheeks, dropping onto Eddie’s face and neck. “I won’t be okay. Because you’ll be dead, and I’ll spend the rest of my life in love with a goddamn ghost.”
You didn’t mean to say it, had told yourself you would take your embarrassing crush to the grave, but your mind was starting to spiral in desperation.
Eddie’s dark-brown eyes widened, but you snapped your head up to glare at Dustin.
“Move!”
The boy ripped his hands away and fell back on his ass, and you dropped the Zippo, using your now free hand to shove the bloody flannel and Eddie’s Hellfire shirt up and out of the way. His pale torso was soaked in blood, the crimson blocking out some of his tattoos, and you could see where it was still oozing from. Jagged bite and slash marks littered his ribs and sides, but your eyes quickly identified the two worst ones, the ones that were making him lose too much blood.
The spearhead was still glowing as you maneuvered it over Eddie’s torso, and you couldn’t help but find his eyes again.
They were still wide with fear and surprise, but you thought you saw trust there too in the dark depths of his gaze.
Without thinking about it, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. Eddie drew in a ragged gasp, and you briefly darted your tongue into his mouth, tasting blood. Then you pulled back and stared into his eyes.
“Don’t you fucking die on me, Munson,” you murmured in the space between your mouths.
“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he exhaled, and you seized the moment to position the hot spearhead over the worst of his wounds and press down.
The sound and smell of sizzling flesh hit you, and Eddie yelled out wordlessly as his back arched.
“Stay still, stay still,” you begged, trying not to stab him with the knife pressed to his skin.
Dustin leaped forward and pressed down on Eddie’s shoulder and thigh, anchoring him to the ground and whispering reassurances.
You counted to ten in your head and then carefully pried the knife away from his side. The skin was still streaked with crimson, and now it was red and raised in an angry, jagged pattern that matched the serrated edge of the knife. But no new blood trickled from the wound, and relief made your head swim.
You would still need to get him to a hospital for any internal injuries, but if you could stop the external bleeding, it would buy him some time.
“Okay, okay, just one more,” you panted, picking up the Zippo in shaking fingers to reheat the flat of the blade.
“You hear that, Eddie?” Dustin asked and shook him a little. “Just a little more.”
Eddie choked out a laugh, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he stared up at the dark sky. “’S’all good. It… doesn’t even really hurt anymore.”
Dustin whimpered, and you gritted your teeth, burning the tips of your fingers as you all but pressed the flame into the knife.
“Hey, Munson? Munson! What year is it?” you asked frantically.
“Hmmm, ’86, baby,” Eddie hummed, his voice sleepy. “My year. I think it’s finally… gonna be my year.”
“That’s right.” The flat of the blade was now orange, so you dropped the Zippo again and zeroed in on the second-worst bite. “So you gotta stay alive. It’s your year, and you’re going to graduate, and the second shit settles down, you’re taking me on a date.”
“Am… I?” His dark eyes refocused a little and found yours.
“Yes,” you said and steeled yourself. “So, keep breathing and focus on me.”
“Second part’s n-not hard at all, sweetheart.” He smiled weakly at you, but then his face contorted as you pressed the hot metal into his skin once more. “F-Fuck! Shitshitshit.”
“Shhh, I know, I’m sorry, so sorry,” you babbled as Dustin whined but held Eddie down.
You counted to ten again before pulling the blade away, and again, the skin was ugly and raised, but sealed. Your eyes danced over Eddie’s torso, but the rest of the bite and slash marks were shallow, most already clotted over. It was like the bats only got two good bites in before you started barbequing them.
Thank fucking Christ.
“Okay, okay, that’s it.” You dropped the spear and then hurriedly tugged your flannel and his shirt back over his stomach. You pressed the flannel against his gut, grabbing the mesh ghillie suit that was still underneath him and quickly tying it around his waist.
Eddie groaned, but when you were done, his torso was bound good and tight, and with the worst of the wounds cauterized, you should be able to move him.
He just needed to stay awake and keep breathing a little while longer.
“I-Is it done?” Dustin asked, his voice quiet and sounding much younger than he actually was. “Is he… gonna be okay?”
“I’ve done all I can, and most of the bleeding’s stopped,” you said, and you glanced from the curly-haired boy to the panting man beneath you. “We still need to get him to the hospital. ASAP. Do you hear that, Eddie? We gotta move.”
“I… don’t think I can,” he sighed, eyes fluttering, struggling to find yours. “S-So sleepy.”
“Hey, hey.” You reached out and cupped his face, trying to keep him awake, and his gaze cleared a little as it met yours. “What’s that line, from the Return of the King? The one Sam says to Frodo on the slopes of Mount Doom? When Frodo says he can’t go on.”
Eddie blinked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows, but Dustin beat him to it.
“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you,” the kid recited from memory, and a smile bloomed across your face.
“Yeah, that one,” you said, shifting so you were crouching on your heels instead of kneeling. “I can carry you. But I need you to at least sit up for me. Can you do that, Munson?”
Eddie stared at you with an expression you couldn’t place. He looked on the precipice of either breaking out into tears or into a smile, but his eyes were steady as they held yours.
“Obi,” he breathed, but you could already hear it in his tone, so you started shaking your head.
“Nope, nuh-uh, I’m not hearing any arguments. Can you sit up, yes or no?”
Eddie pursed his lips before jerking his chin down once.
“Alright, Henderson, help me sit him up,” you said, gently tucking your fingers under Eddie’s right shoulder while Dustin did the same on the left. “Slowly!”
Together, you and Dustin painstakingly levered Eddie upright.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the metalhead hissed through gritted teeth, and then he slumped against you once you had him in a seated position. His breath was hot and damp against the skin of your collarbones, his forehead pressed into the crook of your neck.
“Still with me, Munson?” you murmured as you wrapped your left arm around his back.
“Present and accounted for,” he groaned, rolling his brow against your good shoulder.
“Good, good. Now…” You shifted a little in your crouched position, your thighs and knees beginning to burn. “I need you to drape your arm around my shoulders, and I’m going to wrap mine around your waist. On three, we’re going to stand up, and Dustin’s going to slip under your other arm. Alright?”
“M’kay,” Eddie sighed as he nuzzled his nose behind your ear. “You smell good, Obi.”
Any other time, that sentence would have made butterflies explode into flight in your stomach, but you could hear the slur in his words, and you knew he wasn’t going to stay conscious much longer. The three of you needed to get back through the gate before he passed out.
“You can smell me all you want later, yeah?” you said and jostled him. “Drape your arm over my shoulder, Munson.”
Eddie hummed wordlessly but listened, so you made sure your hold on him was secure before you took a deep breath.
“Okay, one, two, three!”
You shoved upwards, body aching from the strain of Eddie’s additional weight. He was practically limp against you, but you got the pair of you upright, and he managed to somewhat stay on his feet.
“Alright, good,” you grunted, swaying, and you dug your fingers into Eddie’s opposite hip. The hand you had wrapped around his back was the one that demo-bat slashed, and you could feel your own blood still dripping down your skin, but you ignored it as you looked at Dustin. “Grab that spear. Something weird happened to the bats, I didn’t kill them all, so more might come back.”
“Shit, I hope not,” Dustin said, but he picked up the spear anyway before he moved to Eddie’s other side.
It was then you noticed his limp, and your eyes narrowed.
“Henderson, what happened to your leg?” you demanded.
“Well, what happened to your shoulder?” he shot back, raising his eyebrows at the shoulder Eddie wasn’t collapsed against, the one that was starting to ache something fierce now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade.
You winced and then sighed. You couldn’t reprimand him for something you had also done.
“Okay, fine, but never mind helping us,” you said, and you tucked your fingers into the belt loop on Eddie’s opposite side. “I can get him. Just… keep an eye out and lead us back to the gate.”
Dustin frowned, but his leg must have really been hurting because he didn’t argue. He just nodded, spared Eddie one more glance, and turned toward the Munson trailer.
“Alright, Munson, just put one foot in front of the other for me,” you murmured as you dragged your left foot forward.
Eddie stumbled after you, his weight dragging you down, but he stayed upright, his head lolling against your shoulder.
“’M so tired, Obi,” he sighed into your ear. “Can’t I nap first? I’ll study after, promise.”
His words were both slurred and nonsensical now, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat and quickened your pace as much as you could.
“No can do, Munson. We gotta get back to your trailer first.”
“Hmmm… and you gonna spend the night? Got this… new strain from Rick. ‘s killer.”
You’d spent the night at his place before, usually when you were too stoned or tired to drive back to your mom’s house and have her new boyfriend bitch at you for coming in so late. Of course, nothing had ever happened between you and Eddie, besides you drooling on his shoulder or on his couch, but the memory of being so close to him, his warm body pressed to your side while you watched some cheesy horror movie, made you want to scream.
Because his face felt so cold where it was pressed into your neck now.
“Yeah, I’ll stay the night,” you said in an effort to keep Eddie awake. “We can get as high as you want, and I’ll even let you practice Master of Puppets again.”
“I’ve almost… nailed the solo,” Eddie sighed into your hair. “So close. It’s going to be so m-metal.”
The memory of him playing on top of the trailer, rocking out even as an army of bats descended on him, made a slightly hysterical giggle slip from your lips.
“You’re right, it was so metal,” you said just as he stumbled, and you grunted as you caught him. “Hey. Hey, Munson. Eddie!”
“Hmmm?” he hummed, but he started walking again, and you could see his trailer in the distance.
“We’re almost there, so close, just keep walking for me, okay?” You met Dustin’s eye from where he was limping a few feet ahead of you, and while he still looked scared shitless, there was a hint of hope in his gaze now.
“H-Hey, Eddie,” Dustin stammered out, his voice high-pitched. “I-I was thinking, after you graduate, to celebrate, the club should have a one-shot night, and one of the other guys can DM. That way, you can be a player again a-and see that the torch has rightly been passed on. Obi wanted to play too, right, Obi?”
“Y-Yeah,” you said, though this was the first you’d ever even heard of this idea. “I’ve watched you guys play long enough. What do you say, Munson? Help me build a character?”
“You’re a Rouge,” Eddie laughed before he coughed again, and his feet tangled. You managed to keep the two of you from falling over, but his breath was ragged in your ear.
“Really, why?” The question just fell out of your mouth, anything to keep him talking, and Eddie could talk about DnD for hours.
“Sneaky,” he muttered, head lolling against yours, his arm that was draped over your shoulders weighing down on your neck like a yoke. “Sneaky little thief.”
“When have you ever seen me steal something, Munson?” The trailer was so close now, the steps just yards away, the remnants of the front door hanging from its hinges.
“Sneaky,” Eddie said again, but it was more like a sigh. “Snuck into my chest and… stole my heart. Whisked it away and hid it somewhere.”
Now, your feet tripped against each other. You knew he was delirious, barely conscious, speaking nonsense. But a part of you— a very small part buried beneath all the fear and anxiety and fading adrenaline— couldn’t help but wonder.
Did he… share your feelings?
Unfortunately, your brief trip to fantasy land was abruptly cancelled, because Eddie suddenly went completely limp against you and started to pitch forward.
“Eddie!” you gasped, trying to grab him, your arms screaming in pain.
Luckily, Dustin lunged back and helped catch the metalhead, but the two of you couldn’t keep him upright, so you lowered him onto the ground just in front of the steps to his trailer.
“Shit!” Dustin cursed, and he started to hyperventilate. “Shit, no. I-Is he--?”
“He’s alive,” you sighed in relief as you cupped a hand in front of Eddie’s mouth. His breathing was slow but even, just like his pulse when you groped under his neck to check. “I think he just passed out. His… body’s been though a lot.”
“Oh, okay,” Dustin said before he took a deep breath to recompose himself.
Of course, that was when the ground started rumbling beneath you, the Munson trailer creaking ominously.
You and Dustin stared wide-eyed at each other for a long moment, but then the rumbling worsened, followed by red lightning cracking across the sky again, and Dustin grasped at his head.
“Shit, what do we do?!” he wailed.
You glanced down at Eddie’s slack and bloody face for the briefest instant before you started moving.
“Grab his feet and help me get him in the trailer, Henderson,” you ordered, shifting so you could pick up Eddie’s shoulders. “Then you’re going to find whatever sheets or fabric you can in under thirty seconds and tie them together. Ready? On three.”
Dustin scrambled to comply, and as the world continued to shake at the seams around you, you focused on the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest.
He was alive, alive, alive, and you were going to do whatever you had to in order to keep him that way.
~*~*~*~*~*
Two Days Later
Another yawn cracked your jaw as you slumped in the hard plastic chair, and you shook your head, trying to wake up a little.
The sunlight coming through the windows behind you was an orange bordering on red, and the clock on the wall said it was just past seven pm. The sun would set completely soon, and you knew you needed to eat something for dinner, having skipped breakfast and snagging chips from the vending machine for lunch. Your stomach gurgled in agreement, but your heavy eyes and sore body kept you glued to your seat.
The steady beating of the heart monitor wasn’t helping either, the even rhythm like a metronome trying to lull you to sleep, and you scrubbed your face with your right hand, since you left was bundle up in a sling.
As you tiredly dragged your fingers down your cheek, your gaze drifted over to the still form on the bed. In front of you lay Eddie Munson, still breathing, still alive, but pale, his cheeks lacking their usual color, his lips cracked and peeling. He looked… smaller wrapped in bandages and a hospital gown, tucked under sterile white sheets. He also hadn’t woken up since he passed out on the steps of his trailer in the Upside Down. The doctors assured you he would. He’d had some minor internal bleeding, like you expected, but it only took you fifteen minutes after he passed out to get him through the doors of the hospital.
You’d almost killed yourself getting back through the gate, and then almost fallen into a miles’ wide sinkhole, and then nearly crashed the car as you were speeding down the road in a stolen vehicle while the earth quaked to the foundations of Hawkins, but you got Eddie here in time. The doctors said so. He would have some bad scarring— part of that your fault— but once his body recovered from the blood loss, he should be okay.
He just had to wake up.
You glared at Eddie’s sleeping face as you willed him to move, twitch, anything, but he stayed still and silent, and you sighed as you painstakingly got to your feet. You’d been sitting in that chair for hours now, like you had all night and the previous day. You needed to stretch.
Even though it somewhat pained you, you tore your eyes away from Eddie and moved to the window, staring impassively at the orange sky streaked with what look like black smoke, gray ash fluttering down to build upon the windowsill.
Steve had already called to tell you what was going on. Apparently, Mike, his superhero girlfriend Eleven— who you had yet to meet— and some of the others had seen the gates worsening with their own eyes. They were holding a strategy meeting at the Wheelers’ at eight, which Steve invited you to, and you wondered if there would be food there.
You knew you should be more worried, more scared, but all you felt was tired and numb. Everything kind of felt… suspended around you, like the deep breath before a plunge. You were waiting. Waiting for Eddie to wake up. Once he did, you could worry about the gates and the end of the world and whatever else. As long as he was awake.
You continued to stare blindly out at the sky and wondered how it had come to this.
You’d actually grown up in Hawkins. Had fond memories of biking around town, playing in the woods when you were young. Then, when you were about ten, your father got a new job in a bigger city, and he moved you and your mother out of Hawkins for this “great, new opportunity.” That lasted a few years, but when that job fell through, like they always did for your father, your mother finally had enough. She divorced him, and he signed away all his rights, so your mom moved the two of you back to her hometown, completely ignoring that it was your senior year.
She definitely regretted that now.
Small towns were pretty close-knit, so for the ten months you spent at Hawkins High, you mostly kept to yourself. You got good grades since you were good at memorizing and regurgitating information, but your mother was too busy with her new boyfriend to notice. They’d gone to your graduation, though, so that was something at least.
But you didn’t have the money to go to college. At least, not right away. So, you got a summer job at the mall slinging ice cream with Steve “the Hair” Harrington. You’d seen him around school since he was in your graduating class, but since you kept to yourself, you’d never had any interactions with him. He was actually cooler than his reputation made him out to be, in a kind of dorky, endearing way, and you had fun shooting the shit with him, Robin Buckley, and the children that just seemed to flock to Steve for some reason. You’d especially liked Dustin Henderson, specifically because he seemed to get under Steve’s skin in the most hilarious, annoying little brother way.
Then, of course, you got pulled into the whole “Russian spy/Oh-yeah-monsters-are-real” game, which wasn’t how you accepted to spend your summer last year.
But it wasn’t all bad. For the first time in your life, you had real friends. Friends who would literally die for you, and vice versa. Even after the world had been saved— or so you thought at the time— they still stuck around. Robin even helped you get a job at Family Video, and despite some reoccurring nightmares, you were… happy.
Then Dustin and the other kids started high school, met the Hellfire Club, met… Eddie.
Steve always complained about how much Dustin went on and on about this Eddie, but you thought it was sweet. You’d heard of Eddie Munson during your time at Hawkins High, but you never had any classes with him, and you always kept your head down in the halls and left immediately after school. Steven scoffed and rolled his eyes, said Eddie was just a stoner loser, which made Dustin heartily protest, and it always devolved into an argument either you or Robin had to break up.
You could admit you were curious about this Eddie Munson, but it was a mild curiosity.
Then, one rainy day in the fall, when Dustin blew out one of his bike tires and needed a ride home after Hellfire, you offered to pick him up since Steve had a shift that night. You’d run into the room where the club was wrapping up their session, dripping water everywhere, and when you finally shook your wet hair out of your face and looked up, your eyes immediately locked onto dark-brown ones that were staring at you with interest.
You suspected that was the moment you fell in love with Eddie Munson. But the next moment— the one where Dustin introduced you, and Eddie slid off his throne and onto his feet before dipping into a graceful, flourishing bow— was a close second.
For the next several weeks, Dustin had asked you to pick him up from Hellfire, but after Mike let it slip that Dustin’s bike was already fixed, you’d asked the curly-haired boy why. He’d reluctantly admitted that Eddie asked him to bring you around, so the next time the club met, you drove up to the school. Dustin was already leaving with Lucas and Mike, the three of them waving from their bikes, and Eddie had blinked at you in shock when he saw you leaning against your car. Then a wide smile bloomed across his face, crinkling his eyes, and it was all downhill from there.
You started spending time with Eddie in the afternoons or evenings or on your days off from the video store, and you quickly discovered that the hardcore metalhead persona was just a mask. The real Eddie Munson was a nerd through and through. But he was also sweet, funny, quick to smile and quicker to make you laugh.
The two of you spent hours talking about everything and nothing, passing joints back and forth until they were just ashes. You learned that he was actually pretty smart and well-read. His dog-earned copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings were worn from use and even annotated, and one night, when the two of you were really high, he read a passage from one of the books, doing all the different voices. You had dissolved into giggles at some point, pushed over the edge by a particularly ridiculously voice, and Eddie had looked so proud of himself, dimples prominently framing his wide grin.
His DnD campaigns were also incredibly complex and compelling, and you told him he could honestly be a writer someday. He had blushed and laughed you off, saying he was probably never even going to graduate high school, and the defeat in his voice had twisted your heart. So, you’d offered to tutor him, help him study, in the hopes of getting him to graduation. Eddie moaned and complained at first, but he let you quiz him with flashcards, started taking notes, and his grades had gone up a little in the last few months. As he’d crowed to the Hellfire Club numerous times, he had just needed to pass Ms. O’Donall’s final.
Of course, none of that mattered anymore. Half the town had already fled, and the school was being used as an evacuation center for those who remained. You’d heard rumors that the school administration was just going to pass all its students for the year, to make the paperwork for transferring easier, but you weren’t sure if that was true or not.
You hoped it was. Eddie deserved some good news when he woke up.
You sighed again and knew you needed to start heading for the Wheelers’. With one more glance at the darkening sky, you turned away from the window and went to pick up your jacket from the back of your chair.
But when you looked up, your eyes clashed with dark-brown ones, staring at you with interest.
“Jesus H. Christ!” you gasped, stumbling back a step as your right, bandaged hand flew to your chest.
Your heart was pounding in your ears, and Eddie Munson was staring back at you from the hospital bed. His gaze was glassy and a little disoriented, but it was focused on you, and after a moment, his dry lips parted, his tongue snaking out to wet them.
“Hey, Obi,” he rasped, and a faint smile tugged at his mouth.
You exhaled a sound halfway between a sob and a choke, and then you were stumbling forward, shoving the chair out of the way so you could sit on the edge of the bed.
“H-Holy shit,” you stuttered out, tears blurring your vision as you took Eddie’s hand in yours. His palm was warm against your own. “Fuck, Munson. Y-You took your damn time waking up.”
“ ’M sorry,” he sighed, but his fingers squeezed yours, and a tear finally escaped and trailed down your cheek. Eddie frowned at the sight, and his glassy gaze cleared a little bit. “Why… are you crying, princess?”
You choked out a laugh, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “Because you’re in the hospital, dingus. You almost died.”
“Oh, yeah.” He blinked placidly up at you for a moment, but then his eyes widened, and you heard on the monitor as his heart began to race. “Shit, wait, what happened? I-I remember the bats— Fuck! Where’s Henderson, is he okay? And what about Harrington? Wheeler? Sinclair? And the redhead, oh, fuck, did Vecna get her?”
“Eddie,” you tried to cut in, but he was fully starting to panic now, his fingers digging into your hand, his breath coming out in shallow pants.
“A-And am I in the Hawkins hospital? What about the cops? Fuck, are they on their way? Do we need to start running? I—”
“Eddie!” you said, this time louder, and he cut off with a gasp, his wild and terrified eyes staring into yours.
“Y-Yes?” he asked, his voice quiet and timid.
“Take a deep breath, Christ,” you sighed, and you would have run a hand through your hair if one of them wasn’t in a sling and the other held in a death grip by long, slender fingers, rough with guitar callouses.
Eddie inhaled shakily through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, and his eyes never left yours.
“Good,” you said, a weak but genuine smile stretching across your face. “Now, one thing at a time. What do you want to know first?”
“Henderson,” Eddie blurted without hesitation. “Is he alive?”
“Yes.” You nodded. “Dustin’s fine, just has a sprained ankle. Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Lucas are also fine. And Max is… alive.”
“I don’t like that tone, Obi,” Eddie said as he frowned at you. “What happened?”
He could always read you too easily.
“Vecna… did get her,” you sighed, eyes dropping to where your hand was intertwined with his. “Partially. Mike’s superhero girlfriend Eleven was able to beat him, but… Max is in rough shape. The doctors aren’t sure if she’ll wake up again.”
“Shit,” Eddie breathed, his face twisting. “That… sucks.”
His response startled a snort out of you, and his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“I-I’m sorry, that was stupid to say, I’m just drugged up—” he started to ramble, but you squeezed his hand and smiled at him again.
“No, you’re right, it sucks,” you agreed. “It fucking sucks royally. But apparently there’s a chance Eleven might be able to wake Max up, so there’s some hope.”
“Well, that’s good,” Eddie said, but then he shifted slightly and flinched.
“Are you okay?” you immediately asked, your eyes falling to his stomach, half-anticipating to see him bleeding through his gown.
“Fine, fine, just… sore,” he groaned and pressed his head back into the pillow, his long hair a dark halo around him. “Everywhere.”
“Welcome to the club,” you scoffed, awkwardly waving your sling-bound arm like a chicken wing.
Eddie frowned at your arm before his eyes found yours again. “How did that happen?”
“Well…” You bit your lip. “How much you do remember? From right before you passed out.”
“I… remember jamming out on top of the trailer,” Eddie started slowly as a crease formed in the middle of his brow. “I remember the bats, running from the bats, the bats getting into the trailer, and… oh.”
He flinched again, a little guilt beginning to leech into his eyes, and you knew he’d remembered his “decision.”
“Yeah, oh,” you repeated, your voice taking on an edge as you glared down at him. “You, Edward Munson, decided to fucking oh-so-heroically sacrifice yourself.”
“Aw, come on, Obi.” He tried for a smile, but it withered as your glare increased. “Okay, I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t just let you get eaten by monster bats. Y-You and Henderson, I mean. I was trying to give you both enough time to escape.”
“Did you honestly think we would just leave you there?” you demanded. You tried to sound angry— were angry— but you voice came out a little hurt.
“Well…” Eddie said as he chewed the dry skin off his lower lip. “I’d hoped you would. Especially after I cut the sheets down.”
“All that succeeded in doing was making it harder for Dustin and I to get back, which resorted in his sprained ankle, and my fractured fucking shoulder.” Your words were sharper than you meant them to be, and Eddie winced like you’d struck him. He averted his gaze and started to extract his hand from yours, but you clamped your fingers down around his. “Wait, no, I—”
You cut yourself off, sighed, and took a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’m sorry,” you muttered, running your thumb across the backs of Eddie’s knuckles. “I just… god, Munson. Do you know how fucking terrified I was when I saw those bats circling you? And don’t get me started on how much blood you lost. I nearly lost my goddamn mind trying to stop the bleeding.”
“You… burned me,” Eddie said, and his eyes narrowed as he fought to remember.
“Yes.” Now, it was your turn to flinch. “To stop the bleeding. I-I didn’t wanna hurt you, but it was the only way—”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled, and that lopsided grin you loved so much spread across his face. “You obviously did everything right, since I’m sitting here talkin’ to ya.”
You exhaled shakily because he was right. You’d kept him alive. That was the important part.
“Yeah, well, lugging your ass through that gate certainly wasn’t easy,” you scoffed, but you flashed him a smirk to show you were partially joking.
“How’d ya do it?” Eddie asked, settling back into the pillows as he absently played with your fingers.
“Well, the earthquake certainly didn’t give us a lot of time—” you started.
“Wait, what earthquake?”
“Would you let me finish?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him, and he sheepishly smiled.
“Sorry, go on,” he muttered.
“Like I said,” you sighed. “Right after you passed out, it felt like the Upside Down was trying to shake apart. So, Dustin and I carried you into the trailer, and Dustin tied together any fabric he could find while I used the furniture to prop up the mattress vertically beneath the gate. Dustin helped tie you to my back in the weirdest piggyback ride ever, and then he clambered up the mattress and through the portal. You and I more fell through, but Henderson made sure we had a landing pad this time, so minimal injury on that front. Then we hauled ass to the hospital. But…”
You trailed off and bit your lip, unsure of how to break the bad news to him.
“But what?” Eddie asked with a furrowed brow.
“But the earthquakes didn’t stop,” you went on as you tightened your grip on his hand. “The gates… grew. They fucking split Hawkins in half. And… they swallowed your trailer.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie breathed, his face paling, and then his nails dug into your skin. “Shit, Wayne?”
“Wayne’s fine,” you quickly assured him. “He was at the plant when it happened. He was actually here just a while ago. Went out to find something to eat.”
“Thank fucking Christ,” he sighed as some of the tension fled his body, but his eyes quickly found yours again. “So, the trailer’s just… gone, huh?”
“Yes.” You nodded and stroked your thumb across his knuckles again. “Along with half of Hawkins. Butttttt… Henderson was able to grab a few things while I was starting up the car.”
Eddie cocked his head at you curiously, his bangs trailing across his forehead, and you fought the urge to brush them back.
You smiled instead and tried to extract your hand from his, but his grip clamped down around you, and his brown eyes went a little panicked.
“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you soothed. “Just need to reach under my chair, and I only have one hand at the moment.”
A blush stained Eddie’s cheeks, and he reluctantly released your fingers. “Sorry.”
You just continued to smile at him as you stood and turned around. A small box had been stashed under your chair, but you’d kicked it out of your way when you’d rushed to Eddie’s side earlier. The cardboard box was shoved against the wall beneath the window, and you stifled a groan as you bent down and picked it up with one arm.
“It’s… not a lot,” you grunted as you set the box on the edge of the bed, pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “Mostly just what Dustin could sweep or throw in a box in under ten seconds. But it’s something, and I’d thought you’d like to have something familiar when you woke up.”
Eddie wiggled a little in the bed, wincing as he struggled upright.
“Here, let me help,” you said, leaning over to press the button on the side of the bed. The head of the mattress started to slowly raise, but you didn’t want to put too much pressure on Eddie’s gut yet, so you left the bed in a half reclined position. Then you hit another button to turn up the lights since the sun had fully set by this point, and Eddie blinked in the sudden brightness.
“Alright, what do we got here?” the metalhead asked as he peeked into the box, but his teasing expression turned soft when he saw the contents.
Slowly, he pulled out a few cassettes— Iron Maiden, Megadeath, Judas Priest— along with faded Metallica t-shirt, one of his favorites. Next was his DnD binder, stuffed full of notes, campaigns, and character sheets. And lastly, there were his copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.
“Goddamn Henderson,” Eddie muttered with a fond expression, and his eyes grew glassy again, this time with tears.
“He also managed to grab your guitar,” you added and grinned, saving the best for last.
“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie gasped as his gaze snapped to yours.
“He’s got it at his house,” you chuckled. “Said he’d keep it safe for you until you got out of the hospital.”
“That fucking kid.” Eddie grinned and shook his head, but his smile slowly faded.
“What?” you asked as you studied his troubled face.
Eddie slowly put all his things back into the box and nudged it back at you, so you took it and set it on the ground at your feet.
“Obi, be honest with me.” He met your eyes dead-on. “Am I going straight to jail from here? Are the cops just waiting for me to wake up to arrest me?”
“Not… exactly,” you said, pursing your lips. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, you’re killing me, princess,” he groaned. “Am I bound for the gallows or not?”
“You’re not,” you clarified. “All of Hawkins, the police department especially, have more pressing matters to focus on at the moment. Plus, um, Lucas kind of pinned the whole thing on Jason.”
“What?!” Eddie’s voice rose in pitch, and his eyes bulged out of his head. “And the cops believed Sinclair?”
“Well, they kind of had to.” You shrugged. “Especially since Jason couldn’t defend himself. Given the fact he’s dead. But he’s half the reason Max got hurt anyway. He found her and Lucas, attacked Lucas, and broke Max’s Walkman. Then he apparently got cut in half by the gate widening, so Lucas told the cops that Jason was the one who killed Chrissy. He thought Chrissy was cheating on him with you, so he killed her and framed you for the murder. Then he just went psycho, killing more people, and he confessed all this to Lucas before he tragically died in the earthquake.”
Eddie’s eyes grew larger and larger as you spoke, and when you finished, he exhaled sharply.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his gaze growing distant. “So does that mean… I’m free?”
“For the most part, yeah.” You smiled. “Half the town has fled in the last couple days, and the ones that are left are too busy worrying about the rest of Hawkins just falling into hell. The police exonerated you yesterday at an emergency town meeting, but no one seemed to really care anymore.”
“Fucking figures,” Eddie grumbled, and he rolled his eyes. “They were all up in arms to drag me through town and burn me at the stake, but now they’ve probably already forgotten my name.”
“Good,” you said as you reached out and took his hand again. “Those fuckers don’t deserve to utter your name anyway.”
Eddie seemed taken back for a moment, face slack with surprise, but he quickly covered it up with a smirk.
“Damn straight, sweetheart.” He winked before dropping his head back with a sigh. A moment of silence passed between the two of you, and then Eddie snorted before he started laughing.
“What?” you asked, his laughter contagious, pulling your lips upward.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “It’s just… guess I’m not graduating this year, either. ’86 wasn’t my year after all.”
“Actually,” you said as your smile grew, “I heard a rumor the school is just going to pass everyone. You know, in the wake of the ‘disaster.’ So I wouldn’t throw your towel in yet, Munson. I still think ’86 is going to be your year.”
Eddie grinned, a full grin this time, every inch the lively, crazy boy you’d known for months. His brown eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint you loved so much, and he abruptly lifted the hand that was intertwined with yours and pressed a smacking kiss to the back of your knuckles.
“’86, baby,” he crowed. “My year. And it’s all thanks to you, Obi.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, falling back into your usual song and dance, but Eddie suddenly grew serious.
“I mean it,” he said, all traces of laughter gone from his voice. His dark-brown eyes bored into yours, and your breath hitched in your chest. “I would have flunked out months ago without you pushing me to study, and I would have bled out in that fucked up place if you hadn’t saved me. I owe you. More than I can ever repay. But once I get out of this damn bed, find a place to live, and get a job, I’ll figure out how I can start. You know, if the world doesn’t end before then.”
“Excuses, excuses, Munson,” you teased but averted your gaze, uncomfortable with how deeply he was staring into you. You cast your mind about for something, anything else to say, and words tumbled from your mouth before you could fully process them. “M-My house didn’t get swallowed by the gate, so you could just stay with me, you know. J-Just until you find something else. Or the world ends. Whichever comes first.”
You laughed awkwardly, but you could still feel Eddie staring at you, and when you darted a glance in his direction, his eyes were wide. He quickly cleared his throat when he caught your gaze, but you could see your offer had surprised him.
“W-Well, that’s awfully kind of you, princess,” he stuttered out before plastering on a smile. “But I’m sure your mom won’t be thrilled to have the Munson men move in. And I can’t leave Wayne by himself.”
“Wayne can come, too,” you blurted out, dropping your gaze again. You stared at your scraped up knuckles, intertwined with Eddie’s, and tried to fight back your blush. “A-And my mom won’t be a problem. She… left.”
“She… left?” Eddie repeated in an incredulous tone. “What the hell do you mean, ‘she left?’”
“She left.” You shrugged, still refusing to look at him. “Yesterday morning, after I got done talking to the police, helping Lucas to corroborate the Jason lie, my mom showed up. She and David had already packed up the cars and were ready to get the hell out of Dodge. But I wouldn’t go with her. I couldn’t just leave you. I-I mean, you and the rest of the gang. Shit’s only gonna get worse before it gets better, and I know we’ll need all hands on deck if we’re going to keep the Upside Down from swallowing up the real world. So, I refused to go with her. She got upset, and David got pissed, but I’m nineteen. They can’t make me do anything. So… they left.”
Several beats of silence passed, and when it grew too much for you, you chanced a glance at Eddie’s face. His expression was caught between gaping shock and incandescent rage, and you blinked in surprise.
“Are you… are you alright?” you murmured, squeezing his hand.
Eddie seemed to snap out of it, and his gaze found yours again.
“Am I alright?” he scoffed, voice tinged with hysteria. “I should be asking you that. Your mom just… fuck, I’m sorry, but I can’t believe she just fucking abandoned you in the middle of this shitstorm. What a goddamn bitch. N-No offense, of course.”
“No, you’re right,” you said with a wry smile, and you shrugged again. “She is a bitch. We’ve never had the best relationship, I always reminded her too much of my father. But… at least this way she’ll be safe. David might be a dick, but he actually seems to care about her, and I know my mother would kill him if he tried to lay a hand on her. So… she’ll be fine. And who knows? Maybe, once this shit is all over and Eleven saves the world again, my mom will come to her senses and apologize.”
You and Eddie stared at each other for a long moment. You were the one to break first, poorly stifling a snort, and then Eddie caved after you, and soon the two of you were giggling and gasping for breath.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Eddie hissed as he grasped at his side, but he was still laughing. “Ughh, that hurts, Obi, don’t make me laughhhh.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you snickered, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide.
The pair of you lapsed into silence again as Eddie caught his breath, and then he flopped his head to the side to meet your eyes.
“So… your house, huh?” he asked, lips twitching up at the corners.
“I-If you want,” you stammered as you felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Granted, it might also get swallowed up at any moment, and you and Wayne would have to decide who gets the other bedroom and who gets the couch, but… yeah.”
You bit your lip and would have picked at your fingers if Eddie wasn’t still holding your hand. His face was soft and thoughtful as his brown eyes considered you, but then nervousness started to creep into his expression for some reason.
He seemed to take a moment to build up his courage, and he licked his lips before he spoke again.
“Can… can I ask you something, Obi?”
The seriousness of his tone made you sit up a little straighter.
“S-Sure.”
“It’s just… my memory is still a little spotty, after the bats got me,” he started, and his thumb started brushing over your knuckles again, like he usually played with the rings on his fingers. “I remember… some things, b-but I can’t tell if they actually happened or if I was just hallucinating from blood loss at that point. I— Look, I’m just gonna come out and ask, and you can’t laugh at me because I’m very injured and fragile and might cry. Alright?”
“A-Alright,” you said, swallowing past your suddenly dry throat.
You had a sneaking suspicion you already knew what he was going to ask.
Eddie took a deep breath, and then his chocolate-brown eyes stabbed into you, pinned you to the spot.
“Did you kiss me?”
Your breath hitched in your lungs, panic sparking along your nerves. You didn’t think he would remember. He’d been dying and delirious, and you were just trying to keep him alive, would have said whatever you needed to in order to keep him alive.
Part of you wanted to lie, save yourself the embarrassment, but you couldn’t with the way Eddie was staring into your soul.
“Yes,” you whispered, confessed, and you braced yourself for his rejection.
You’d never said anything about your feelings because you were sure they could never be reciprocated. Eddie had never made a move in all the months you’d known him. He was always affectionate, touching you in innocuous ways, playing with your fingers, tugging gently at your hair, throwing his arm over your shoulders, but it was never sexual, even when you passed out in his bed with him that one time, too stoned to move. So, he obviously didn’t see you like that, and you were too scared to risk your friendship by saying anything.
Besides, Eddie always talked about wanting to get the hell out of Hawkins and never look back, and you didn’t want to be the thing that got in the way of his dreams. You told yourself you would keep your dirty secret, take it to the grave, and yet here you were, on the precipice of spilling your guts.
“And… did you say that you… loved me? Like in love with me?” Eddie asked as he stared at you intently.
You couldn’t read his expression, his tone, your brain too busy setting itself on fire in embarrassment.
“Yes,” you said again, voice no more than a breath, and you dropped your gaze, unable to bare the rejection that would soon appear in his eyes.
“And did you mean it?”
It would be better to lie. To laugh it off, say you were just spouting nonsense to keep him awake. Tell him that of course you loved him, he was your best friend and nothing more.
You couldn’t, though. You were just so tired, and this secret had been weighing you down for so long. It was time to give it up.
But you couldn’t find your voice now, throat hot and tight with building tears, so you just nodded your head silently.
Eddie inhaled sharply, so sharply it sounded like he was in pain, and you just started babbling.
“I’m sorry, look, we can just forget all about it, really. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m just so happy you’re still alive, and I don’t want to lose you. Y-You’re my best friend, Munson. Besides, we still have all this gate shit to take care of, and—”
“Obi,” Eddie cut you off. Then he said your name. Your real name. He hadn’t used it in months, and it caused a shiver to roll down your spine.
You snapped your head up in shock, your mouth hanging open in a small ‘o.’
Eddie was still staring at you, but now he was smiling, so wide that his eyes crinkled and the dimples besides his mouth almost leapt off his cheeks. Tears dotted his eyelashes, but he looked so happy, you didn’t understand.
“What’s with the surprise?” he laughed when he saw your face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know, sweetheart.”
“K-Know what?” you stuttered, trying to piece things together.
“That I’ve been in love with you since the moment you walked into Hellfire, dripping wet, last fall,” he said simply, easily, his smile going a little lopsided. “I had to bow to you to keep from falling to my knees.”
“What?” It felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. Your ears started to ring, and your vision darkened at the edges until all you could see was his face.
“Seriously, Obi?” He smirked. “For a Jedi master, you can sometimes be a little slow. Why do you think I asked Henderson to lie to you about fixing his bike? I wanted to see you. At first, I was worried you were just showing up out of obligation toward the kid, but then there you were that day, leaning against your car in the parking lot, waiting for me. That was probably the happiest day of my life. If you discount all the other days I’ve spent with you since then.”
You gaped at him wordlessly, his words echoing around your skull but failing to process.
He… he loved you? He loved you back?
“B-But you never… you never said anything,” you stuttered. “Never gave any indication…”
“I thought I was pretty obvious, the way I’m always hanging all over you,” he snorted. “But I couldn’t help myself. I just… always want to be around you, Obi. You make the chaos in my head a little quieter. You were like this one spot of bright light in this ugly town. But, like you said, I-I didn’t want to ruin what we already had. Besides, I’m Eddie the Freak, and you’re like lightyears out of my league. Why would you ever go for someone like me?”
“You’re not a freak,” you immediately countered, your voice strong in your surety. “Don’t call yourself that. You’re… you’re Eddie the Brave, not the Freak.”
“Wait, I thought you were the Samwise to my Frodo,” Eddie quipped, so he apparently remembered a lot of what you said while he was dying.
“I’m serious.” You frowned. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself for Dustin and me. You’re a hero, Eddie. A truly metal hero.”
Eddie flushed at your praise, dropping his eyes so his long lashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks. He played with your fingers, and after a moment, he raised one of his shoulders in a half shrug.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy to be a hero when you’ve got such a beautiful maiden to save,” he said, eyes darting up to yours, and a smirk tugged at his lips.
“You are seriously the worst,” you groaned and pulled your hand from his, but he caught it again, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the center of your palm.
“True, but you love me,” he said, but you could see there was a question in his dark eyes, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.
“Yeah,” you breathed, cupping your hand over his warm cheek. “I do.”
Eddie nuzzled into your palm and grinned so brilliantly it was like looking into the sun, and you thought that you could handle any nightmare the Upside Down tried to throw at you, as long as you could see his smile every day for the rest of your life. However long it might be.
“Hey, Obi?” he muttered.
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice quiet and reverent.
Your stomach bottomed out inside you, and it felt like bubbles had replaced the blood in your veins. You felt light, weightless, like you would float away at any moment.
There was only one answer you could give.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Eddie smiled again, softer but no less happy, and he lifted his hand and gently tucked it behind your head. He played with your hair for a moment before his palm slid to the back of your neck, and then he was slowly tugging you down to meet him, and you were leaning the rest of the way to bridge the distance.
His lips were still dry and chapped when they brushed yours, but just the knowledge that it was him kissing you made every hair on your body stand on end. You tilted your head slightly to get a better angle, opening your mouth to let your tongue trace over his lower lip.
Eddie made a small, surprised noise that trailed off into a groan, and then his grip on the back of your neck tightened. He opened his mouth under yours, his tongue darting out, and the kiss deepened, grew more urgent. His other hand reached out to grab your waist, and he tried to pull your even closer, even though you were already half lying on his body.
You didn’t care, though. In fact, you also wanted to be closer, and you were just considering the logistics of trying to straddle him without exacerbating his wounds when you heard the door open behind you.
“Oh!” a voice gasped.
You ripped yourself away from Eddie, but his hand on your waist tightened and wouldn’t let you go far. You shot a quick glare at him before you glanced at the doorway, and your cheeks filled with fire when you saw the middle-aged nurse standing there.
“H-Hello,” you stammered, trying to stand up and failing when Eddie’s hand flattened against the top of your thigh.
“Hello,” the nurse said as she raised an eyebrow at the pair of you, and though her face looked disapproving, there was a hint of amusement in her gaze.
“H-He just woke up a minute ago.” You cleared your throat, and in your peripherals, you could see Eddie smirking up at you, unbothered. “I was… just about to call someone to check on him.”
“Of course,” the nurse said, but she didn’t sound or look convinced. “Well, I’ll need to give him a quick exam, but it should only take a minute. Then I’m sure you and your boyfriend must be hungry, so I’ll have someone bring you guys dinner.”
“Thank you,” you muttered, your cheeks still on fire.
The nurse hummed and approached the opposite side of the bed, but then she paused and raised an eyebrow at you again.
“I’ll need you to get off the bed for the exam,” she said and looked pointedly at the chair shoved against the wall.
“R-Right,” you stuttered, and then you shot a narrowed-eyed glare at Eddie.
He smiled innocently up at you, but he did remove his hand from your thigh, and you hurriedly got off the bed and moved to sit in the chair.
The nurse was quick and efficient in her exam, and she said Eddie was recovering nicely. If he could keep some food down and sleep through the night, he should be able to discharge in the morning.
“Alright, I’ll go see about getting you some dinner,” the nurse said as she made her way to the door again.
“Oh, wait,” Eddie called out, and when the nurse turned to him, he plastered on his most charming, dimpled smile. “Could you make sure we get the red Jello? That’s my girlfriend’s favorite.”
The easy and casual way he said ‘girlfriend’— not to mention the fact that he remembered which Jello was your favorite— made a heat wave flash through your body, and it felt like your heart had been replaced by humming bird wings.
“Sure, hon.” The nurse nodded before she shot the two of you a look. “But I will say that a hospital is a place for healing, so I expect the two of you to be respectful of that.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Eddie said with a completely earnest expression, and he raised his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
You were too embarrassed to actually say anything, but you nodded your head all the same. Thankfully, the nurse seemed satisfied with that because she left without saying anything else.
But the moment she was gone, Eddie snapped his head toward you and smirked.
“Yeah, Obi,” he teased. “You need to be more respectful of the sacred hospital. Keep it in your pants.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving,” you deadpanned as you rose from your chair. “Goodbye, Munson.”
“No, no, I was just kidding,” he laughed, but when you stepped toward the door, his voice dipped into a whine. “Nooooo, Obi, don’t be mean to meeee. I’m wounded. A wounded hero!”
You shook your head but couldn’t keep yourself from smiling, and somehow, you ended sitting on the edge of his bed again. You were too nervous about the nurse coming back to do anything ‘untoward,’ but Eddie seemed content to hold your hand and ask about everything else that had happened in the last few days.
The nurse soon returned with two trays of food, and while hospital food wasn’t exactly gourmet, it filled the aching void in the pit of your stomach. Eddie also had fun feeding you since he insisted your arms were too injured to move, and some of the mash potatoes did end up smeared across your cheeks, but Eddie was quick to lean forward and lick it off, silencing your complaints and setting your cheeks aflame.
While you two were eating, Wayne came back, and the poor man nearly fainted from shock when he saw Eddie awake, upright, and eating. Once he recomposed himself, he rushed forward to pull his nephew into a hug, and you subtlety slid off the edge of the bed to give them some room. You mouthed to Eddie over Wayne’s shoulder that you were going to make a phone call, and while the metalhead seemed reluctant to let you out of his sight, he nodded.
You left the two Munsons to reconnect in private, and you made your way to a payphone in one of the waiting rooms. You called the Wheelers’ place, and Dustin picked up on the second ring. He’d apparently been waiting for your call, wondering where you were since the strategy meeting was about to start. You regretfully informed him that you wouldn’t be making it to the meeting, but before he started to complain, you told him Eddie was awake.
The boy nearly blew out your eardrum with how loudly he cheered, but the relief and excitement in his voice only made you grin. Dustin rambled out a million questions before he cut himself off and said he was coming to the hospital, but you told him to stay at the Wheelers and go ahead with the meeting. He tried to argue, but you reminded him that Eddie still needed some rest, which he reluctantly agreed with. You assured him that he would be the first person you and Eddie went to see once Eddie was discharged tomorrow, and Dustin said he would hold you to that.
The two of you spoke for a few more minutes before you hung up the phone, and it had been about ten minutes since you left the Munsons, so you slowly made your way back to Eddie’s room.
Wayne was sitting in the chair beside Eddie’s bed when you eased open the door and slid silently into the room, and judging by his disturbed, slack jawed expression, you assumed Eddie was giving him an edited recap of all the Upside Down shenanigans.
“So, yeah,” Eddie finished in an incongruously chipper voice. “That’s the long and the short of it. I know, it’s fucked up, but it’s the truth.”
Wayne was silent for a long moment, and then he sighed and ran a hand over the top of his head.
“Few weeks ago, I might have called you crazy, but now… I believe you, kid,” he muttered and shook his head. “I’ve seen these… gates. Nothing of this world should look like that. So, I believe you.”
“Good,” Eddie sighed as he relaxed back into his pillows, but then he saw you standing by the door, and a grin broke out over his face. “There you are, sweetheart. I was just talkin’ bout ya.”
Wayne looked up as you hesitantly approached the bed. You’d met him in passing a few times, mostly when you would come over to get high with Eddie and Wayne was on his way out the door for his night shift, and you flashed the older man a tentative smile.
“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you said respectfully.
Wayne didn’t say anything in response as he slowly rose from his chair, and he rounded the end of the bed to stand in front of you, still without saying a word.
“Uhh…” Your eyes darted to Eddie, who looked just as confused, but before you could say anything else, Wayne suddenly pulled you into a tight, crushing hug.
“Thank you,” Wayne rasped into your ear, his voice sounding choked. “Thank you for saving my boy.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you slowly returned the man’s hug.
“O-Of course,” you stuttered before you cleared your throat. “I-I love Eddie, Mr. Munson. I wasn’t going to let him die, no matter how stubborn he was being.”
Wayne chuckled as he released you, wiping his eyes and flashing you a wry smile.
“That sounds like him,” he said.
“Hey!” Eddie protested from the bed, which you and Wayne ignored.
“Also, just call me Wayne,” the older Munson added.
“Alright, Wayne.” You smiled.
“Can we stop playing the ‘Ignore Eddie’ game?” Eddie pouted from the bed, and when you looked over at him, he made grabby motions in your direction.
You and Wayne shared an eyeroll, but Eddie’s uncle stepped to the side so you could reach the side of the bed. Eddie immediately grabbed your hand and tugged you down to sit on the mattress, and he smiled like he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Hi,” he breathed, already playing with your fingers.
“Hi,” you giggled back.
“Well, that’s my cue,” Wayne grunted behind you, and you turned to see him pulling on his jacket. “The, uh, power plant has asked the people left to take on extra shifts if they can, just until the government aid fully arrives. My shift ends around 3am, so I’ll catch some sleep at the high school before I come pick you up after they discharge you, Ed.”
“Oh, actually,” you interjected as you pulled your hand out of Eddie’s. He made a noise of protest, but you ignored him as you dug around in your jeans pocket and pulled out your keys. Then you turned and extended them out to Wayne. “The key with green paint on the top is my house key. My house is still intact, and, um, there’s no one living there at the moment besides me. I already offered this to Eddie, but you both can stay with me until we… figure out what to do about all this… mess.”
Wayne stared at you incredulously. “I-I don’t think—”
“Really, it’s fine, Mr. Mun— Wayne,” you corrected with a smile. “My place isn’t much, but I know a real bed is a right sight better than a cot stuffed in a high school gymnasium. I’ll, um, probably stay here at the hospital tonight anyway, just in case, so, really, you’ll have the place to yourself. And I can drive Eddie home after he’s discharged in the morning. Just leave my car keys.”
Wayne blinked at you, then at the keys, then at Eddie.
“I’d just take them, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said over your shoulder. “If you think I’m stubborn, Obi is like an immoveable object. Or an unstoppable force. Or both, really.”
You turned and narrowed your eyes at Eddie, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender.
“See?” he stage-whispered to his uncle out of the side of his mouth, and you rolled your eyes and turned back to Wayne.
The keys were still dangling from your fingers, but after a moment, Wayne reached out, took them, and started to work the green painted key off the ring. When he was done, he returned the others to you, and you smiled up at him.
“Thank you,” he grunted. “This is very… kind of you.”
“Kind is Obi’s middle name,” Eddie teased, causing you to blush.
Wayne spent a few more minutes saying goodbye, and you gave him directions to your house. You also told him which bedroom used to be your mothers, and where to find clean sheets.
Once he was gone, Eddie sighed and subsided into the pillows.
“Man, I’m tired,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.
“Almost dying will do that,” you said, and though you hadn’t meant to be funny, he laughed. The sound was infections, and you smiled slightly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his brow. “Why don’t you lay back and get some sleep? I’ll be right here.”
“Will you lay with me?” Eddie asked as he looked up at you through his lashes.
The bastard. He knew you were powerless against his puppy dog eyes.
But you still tried to be sensible.
“You’re still injured, Munson,” you pointed out rationally. “Plus, the bed is like two feet wide, and the nurse is going to rip us both a new one if she finds me in that bed again.”
“Don’t care,” he muttered, tugging at your arm as he fought through a yawn. “I don’t even feel any pain cause of the morphine, and fuck the nurse. I just want to feel you close. I always sleep better with you close.”
The simple confession evaporated the rest of the fight in you, and you sighed.
“Fine,” you relented, like you always did with him.
“Yay.” Eddie grinned and scooted over until his opposite shoulder was pressed against the guard rail.
You shook your head at him as you toed off your shoes, but when you saw the cardboard box half stashed under the bed, you got an idea. Bending down, you rifled through Eddie’s few remaining possessions before your fingers closed around the thing you were searching for, and then you stood up with your prize.
“Ooooh,” Eddie said when he saw the book in your hand, and his brown eyes lit up with delight. “You gonna read me a bedtime story, Obi?”
“Maybe, if you can be quiet long enough,” you huffed as you handed him the book. “Hold this.”
He dutifully took the book from you, and then you spent the next few minutes trying to figure out how to clamber up into the bed without harming either of you. In the end, you were both lying on your backs, hips and shoulders pressed together. Thankfully, your busted shoulder was on the outside of the bed, and you pulled up the guardrail again so you couldn’t roll out of bed in the middle of the night and fully break your already fractured bones.
“Hmm, this is nice,” Eddie hummed as he snuggled his face against your shoulder, his long hair brushing against your neck. “You smell good, Obi.”
“Stop it, you’re tickling me,” you giggled, trying to crane your head away, but he just chased after you.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You said I could smell you all I want if I stayed alive, and here I am, still kicking and breathing. Are you going back on your word, princess?”
“No,” you grumbled and just gave in.
Eddie made a happy noise as he pressed his nose to the column of your throat and inhaled, and then he pressed a quick kiss there that made goosebumps erupt over your skin.
“Okay, I’m ready,” he announced as he plopped the book back into your lap. “You may begin.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you teased, but you picked up the worn book all the same. “Do you want me to pick up at a certain spot?”
“Hmm, nah,” Eddie said, snuggling up more against you, and his eyes were heavy when you looked down at him. “Just start at the beginning.”
“Alright, but I’m not doing all those ridiculous voices you do for the dwarves,” you warned as you flipped to the first page.
“That’s okay, that’s where I’ll jump in,” Eddie snickered and pressed another kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Because I know how much you love it.”
You couldn’t even deny that. You loved it because Eddie was always so passionate, just like he was about everything else.
“Deal,” you chuckled, and then you cleared your throat before you began. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”
You had to admit, as much as your related to Bilbo and the other hobbits, you didn’t find comfort in a hole, or a house, or any one place.
No, your comfort was the man lying beside you, and no matter what lay ahead for the two of you, and for the rest of Hawkins, you knew you would always have a home as long as Eddie Munson was at your side.
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