STEVEN TYLER

The Time Before

2,592 words

an: This is my first time writing, so please be kind!

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smoking, mentions of disease, hospitals, cats (?), angst, sadness (Let me know if I missed anything!)

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Wayne Munson classifies his life into two parts. The separator is that one fateful night that his young nephew was dropped at his front door in the middle of the night by a teary-eyed mother who offered a promise of her return. This marker leaves two pieces; the time during Eddie, and the Time Before.

The Time Before is not something that Wayne likes to talk about. The Time Before was so far away now it didn't seem real. If he thought about it too much, he would question if he hadn't just dreamed up the whole thing. But no; it was real. All of it.

He had a child, Lisa. Lisa was now just another memory from the Time Before; what seemed to be someone else's life. Someone else's child. She was happy: little blonde pigtails springing from the sides of her head, soft cotton clothes so small he couldn't believe that any human could start out that tiny. He could still remember the smell; god, the smell. It was baby powder and springtime. That's the way he remembers it. He was so careful about smoking around her, too; he didn't want her to smell like an ashtray. He would only smoke outside when she wasn't there so that the smell of tobacco wouldn't stick to her clothes or hair.

Lisa's mama was a one-night escapade; the kind of thing that's great in the moment and never happens again. After getting home from 'Nam in the early 60s, he and his buddies indulged in the nightlife that they missed out on during their stints. He never even knew her name. But when the baby was left on his doorstep with a small bag of supplies and a note for explanation, Wayne worried. He had never planned on having kids. He didn't know if he could give this little girl the life she needed. But he tried.

He had no idea what he was doing, but as she grew he realized that he must've done something right. She was talkative by the time she turned three; ever the conversationalist. He beamed as he realized she got that from him. In fact, she got most of her traits from him; her musky blue eyes, her eagerness to move, her inability to sit still. He knew that was going to be a problem once she started school, but goddamnit, he didn't care. In his eyes, she could do no wrong.

It lasted five years. Five years of trips to the park. Five years of ice cream runs. Five years of little grabby hands that were telling him, 'Pick me up, Dad, please?' Five years of her short little giggles that were so contagious that even after she dumped all the baking flour onto the floor and made a snow angel, he couldn't be mad. He was never mad at her for long.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Wayne knew that. But he always thought that he would be the first to go. That it would last longer than it did.

When Lisa woke him up for the third time crying in the night, he thought it would be fine. He convinced himself it would all be fine. She had been sick for the past three days. It looked like a typical cold; she was running a fever, coughing, sneezing. But it had gotten worse in the last few hours; she was waking up to puke. She had so far thrown up three times in the last hour. She was complaining that her stomach hurt. He was trying to get her to calm down and go to sleep. But she kept crying, saying her stomach hurt.

When he ran into her room for the third time that night and flipped on the light, he knew something was really wrong. Her hands we clammy as they grabbed at him, holding onto his arm tightly, and her skin... a sinking feeling grew in his chest as he realized that her skin had grown jaundiced and pale. The small girl would shake in his arms every time she coughed, sobs racking through her body as she moaned and clutched her stomach.

He knew he had to do something. She was getting worse by the second, drifting away in his arms. He wouldn't let that happen. He scooped her up in a blanket and brought her out to the car, laying her on the front bench seat next to him and holding her as close to him as possible. She had stopped crying by the time he had pulled out of the driveway, her breathing shaky and forced. He knew he was repeating the words, 'Don't worry, Lisa, you're gonna be okay. Daddy's got you, don't worry, you're gonna be okay,' but he couldn't actually hear himself. It all felt so far away, and the sound of her labored breath seemed to ring in his ears.

He was thanking the lord that there was no one on the roads because he was pushing his truck as fast as it could go. he was desperately clinging to the small girl as he tried to remember the way to the hospital.

As they pulled up to the emergency room and he threw the truck into park, he knew. He could feel the loss. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was too late. But he was determined that it wouldn't be true. It wouldn't end that fast. He already had her backpack at home, and he was planning on surprising her with it next week. She was set to start school in two weeks, and he had bought all the school supplies he thought she would need. The backpack was blue, her favorite color, with little stars and moons all over the whole thing. It already held a pencil case filled with colored pencils and erasers, a lunchpail that matched the backpack, and three Dr. Seuss books that he was gonna start reading to her. Maybe she would even start reading them.

But all his hopes were thrown out the window the minute that he walked into the emergency room. He watched as his little girl was put on a stretcher, her tiny body not even taking up half of it. She looked so frail as the doctors and nurses wheeled her down the hallway, the fluorescent lights stinging his eyes. Everyone poked and prodded at her as he ran alongside, holding onto her hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her limp hand. He couldn't even hear what the nurses were saying, he just kept telling her, 'It's gonna be okay, baby, I'm here.'

He was sitting in the waiting room, watching the clock on the wall. The doctors came out two hours later.

His vision seemed to blend together until everything was just one big mush. He couldn't hear. He doubled over in his chair, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. Lisa was gone.

They told him it was Viral Hepatitis. Two Words, Six syllables that took his baby girl away.

He had waited too long. He knew it. Maybe if he had just taken her ten minutes sooner, maybe if he had just driven a little faster, maybe if... maybe if... maybe if...

He mourned not only his little girl but the things that she never got to do. She would never go to school. Never drive. Never have another birthday party. Never make friends.

He lost so many experiences with her. He would never get to see her grow up. He would never get to go to a father-daughter dance. He would never get to give her suitors the if-you-hurt-one-little-hair-on-her-head-you-will-never-be-heard-from-again speech, never get to move her into her college dorm, never get to walk her down the aisle.

~~~

After Lisa died, Wayne decided to have her cremated. He knew he had to get out of that house, the reminders of her everywhere. He couldn't stand the idea of not being able to visit his daughter, so he thought he could take her with him and visit her anytime. He might even bury her little urn somewhere close, just out of respect for the dead.

He cleaned out the house, packing all of Lisa's things that he wanted to keep into a small box. He took all the pictures off the walls and his clothes, loaded them all up in his old pickup truck, and made the dive all the way to Indiana.

~~~

Even though he had started off strong in the new trailer, he couldn't seem to adjust. He didn't eat, didn't go outside, and didn't sleep. Every time that he wore himself down enough to pass out on the couch, he would only get about 2 hours before having another set of dreams about Lisa. He would wake up in cold sweats with tears running down his face. And the worst part? He couldn't even remember the dreams. Just the fact that they were about her.

He was miserable in this new town. He didn't even think about looking for a job for the first two weeks, but as money started to disappear, he had to look through the Help Wanted section of the newspaper.

He'd also decided that after Lisa, he needed something else to take care of. So he got a cat. He didn't know why he needed a cat; a dog would have been a lot more sensible. A dog can watch over you and protect you; maybe he could've even trained it to go hunting with him. But he decided to buy a cat. It was a tiny black ball of fur that he named Flopsy because one ear flopped down like a Bunny rabbit while the other one stayed up.

That cat was one of the best things that ever happened to Wayne. When he felt lonely, it was almost like she could sense it. She would curl up in his lap or on his chest and lay there, just keeping him company, as he watched the television.

~~~

It wasn't even six months later when there was a knock at the door. He had just finished a cigarette (he had since thrown out the rule of only smoking outside) and was finally starting to nod off when a sharp knock at the door brought him back to consciousness and he went to answer it.

In those six months, Wayne had tacked down and managed to hold on to a job at the mechanics shop two miles down the road. He was good with cars, his entire childhood was spent with his father, who was the most professional (and honestly-priced) mechanic in the entire state of Georgia. His father had taught him and his brother, Alfred, whom they all called Al, everything there was to know about cars, and it was one of the only things the man could remember the ins and outs of to this day.

When he pulled open the door, his eyes immediately danced over the figures outside. It was so dark out that he couldn't see their faces, but he could tell that one was a woman, just shy of his own height, and a small boy, at least ten, huddled behind the woman's leg. When his vision finally adjusted to the dark of the night, he recognized the face of Vivianne, his brother's wife.

Al Munson was a screwy guy, as Wayne used to say. He and his brother were polar opposites. Their father always used to say that Al had less sense than God gave a goose, and he was just about right. Al had landed himself in jail five times before he was even eighteen, and it only got uglier from there.

Al had started to mess around with Vivianne when they had just graduated high school. And she was so blind to his actions that she stayed with him, even at the advice not to from her soon-to-be brother-in-law. They had a baby a few years before Wayne, but he was still fighting in Vietnam at that time and hadn't heard anything about a child until now.

When Vivianne sat down at his kitchen table, her face covered in tears and snot, she explained that Al was going to put her in the ground. She knew it. It had been a long time coming (Al wasn't always the most even-tempered guy) but it wasn't until she had the baby that she started taking his abuse seriously.

"I don't care about what happens to me anymore, I've made my bed and now I have to lie in it. But I couldn't stand to see that little boy get left alone with his father. He would kill him, I'm sure he would."

Wayne recognized what she needed before she even asked. "I'll take him."

He didn't think about his answer; he didn't think about all the things he'd need to do, he'd need to buy a bed and clothes and food that was healthy and be able to keep a watchful eye on a new child. But somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to take care of a kid. He thought that if he could make a difference in even one child's life, he should. For Lisa.

Vivianne left the trailer with the promise to return soon (one Wayne never believed would come to fruition), and Wayne went over to the couch and sat by the young boy. Flopsy, the cat, had taken an interest in the kid and was sitting up next to him, staring at him. The child seemed nervous, holding his bag in his lap and sitting straight up in his seat, which couldn't have been easy due to the plush cushions on the couch that seemed to want to swallow you up every time you sat down.

"Her name's Flopsy," Wayne announced, picking her up and placing her on his lap. "Do you want to pet her?" he asked softly, looking at the boy. He made no reply, just slowly moved his hand over her soft head. Flopsy immediately started purring, and the sound startled the boy, making him snatch his hand away. "No, no, no, that means she likes it. She makes that noise when she's happy," Wayne tried to explain, but the boy's fears of the cat had returned.

They sat in silence for a long while, the only thing making noise being Flopsy, who was meowing softly to be fed. Wayne eventually got up from the couch, walked to the kitchen, and refilled her food bowl. She seemed content, and he moved on to the next problem at hand: where the boy was going to sleep tonight. Wayne had an extra room where he had stored some junk when he first moved in and never got the chance to clean it out, but there was no extra bed in there. He was also not going to make the kid sleep on the couch, so he went into his own bedroom and took the sheets off the bed, replacing them with fresh ones. He cleared his side table ashtray, while he was at it, and a few empty coffee cups that he brought to the sink.

"You can sleep in there tonight, and tomorrow, we'll go out and buy you a bed and some sheets, okay?" Wayne explained to the young boy, pointing a thumb to his bedroom. The child turned to him, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he had arrived, and asked in a meek voice, "How long am I staying here?" Wayne didn't know how to answer this question. To be quite honest, he didn't know. He didn't know if Vivianne was ever going to come back and collect this kid, or if Al would come to take him. Technically, Wayne had no guardianship over him, so Al could come anytime he wanted to. Just the thought of that happening made Wayne shiver. "I don't know, kid. But it'll be good for you to have your own bedroom in case you do stay or if you come and visit," Wayne decided. The child nodded his head slowly, his small mop of curls bouncing along with him.

"What was your name again, kid?" Wayne asked, looking at him, hoping he would answer the question.

"Eddie."

The Time Before - Eddie's Movies

260 words

an: hey!!! life's been pretty crazy with exams and everything, and since I haven't posted in a while, here's a little fluff for you all! I've been obsessed with all the Godzilla and Kong movies recently, and wanted to put something in here because I think it fits Eddie so well! Hope you enjoy!

cw: fluff, slight mentions of child abuse

================================================Eddie had never gotten the chance to watch many movies at his former house; when his father was home, he would hog the tv, caring only to watch football games. The second time Eddie was placed in Wayne's care, Wayne decided to rent as many movies as he could that seemed like they would interest his nephew. Wayne laid them all on the shelf below the coffee table in careful piles.

Eddie had been quiet so far into his stay, much like the first time he was brought to Wayne, only much more enclosed, enveloped in himself. Wayne barely saw him leave his room, seeing it as a protective barrier from his brother's actions.

After they had finished dinner one night three weeks into Eddie's stay, Wayne suggested they put on a movie. "You go pick. They're all underneath the coffee table," he suggested. Eddie walked into the living room and picked the first one on the stack. He wasn't very interested at first, but once the opening scene of Godzilla vs. Megalon started, he was sucked in.

Practically attached to the movies, he spent the next two days watching every movie he could find. Godzilla, King Kong, and the Universal Monsters became his companions over the warm summer when his hair finally started to grow back out. Boris Karloff was his idol, and he even received a poster that has been tacked on his wall since his 12th birthday.

He wouldn't admit it until years later, but he cried at Kong's death at the end of King Kong (1976).

If you want more about Jonathan's Music taste, it's here

there’s a lotta unrealistic shit about stranger things but i think jonathan not knowing siouxsie sioux is the worst thing

my anger levels normally : 📈📉

my anger levels when ryle called atlas a "homeless guy who lily pity-fucked" : 📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈

Reblog if you're not homophobic

Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad. 

I want to see a movie of Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice but with Jamie Campell Bower as Lestat and Joesph Quinn as Louis

I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

love, lola / chapter one / through space and time (5.6k)

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie

my requests are open for this series if you want to request things from the backstory (if I don’t answer them, it’s because it’ll be revealed!)

prologue here / series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work

'Oh sweetheart you'll never believe this, Chrissy Cunningham is coming over later ahaha.' 

That was the last you had heard from Eddie and his words had made you want to slam the phone down so hard it crushed through the wall. Chrissy fucking Cunningham. It was downright embarrassing, you were twenty, living in New York and yet wanting to climb out onto the fire escape where the traffic can drown out your screaming over a teenage cheerleader. A hideous jealously coursed through you, not only was Eddie far away and his time previously reserved for you, now being spent with others. But it was being spent with the antithesis of you; classically all American feminine. Chrissy was delicate, pure and with the right amount of mystery. Eddie didn't know every detail of her life, every gory mortifying moment. Another fear that lingered in your mind - Eddie knew you far too well to possibly be in love with you. 

In the absence of a cure for a broken heart, the easiest alternative was to tape it back together and pretend that wasn't a temporary solution. For you this meant hooking up with someone, anyone who for once could make you feel desired, even if only for a night. And there he was, your human equivalent to sellotape, sat on the sofa with a beer trying to decide how long he needed to spend on pleasantries before he could get his dick out. Then your phone rang... it still wasn't Eddie. 

'Is this Y/N?' an anxious voice piped' 

'Yes... who is this?' 

'My name is Dustin, I'm Eddie's friend...'

Instantly your heart froze at Eddie's name and you hear the deep inhale from the other line. 

'He's in trouble. I didn't know who else to call.'

Immediately you were screeching at Mr. Sellotape to leave, the reason your heart beat at all needed you and he was more important than anything. You knew of Dustin, you knew of all of Eddie's latest lost chicks he'd taken under his wing. There was no need to ask for the boy to elaborate, whatever it was, you would be there. Every moment from the phone call until you find yourself back in Hawkins was a blur. Now you were finally, carefully approaching Skull Rock - where you used to get drunk as a teenager - to find beneath, curled up in a shivering ball, your Eddie. 

'Teddy,' you whisper, it's a name for his ears only. 

You heart wrenches to see how the confident larger than life boy turned to you quivering, eyes wide and tearful as if he could no longer trust the world around him. But he could trust you. Eddie leans in to your outstretched hand, finally receiving the only comfort on earth that could sooth him. The group linger back, aware you can help him in a way they'll never understand. After a few moments indulging in your touch, Eddie's big eyes blink open. This is the saddest and smallest you'd ever seen him, his face more haunted than the moment you stood by him as they lowered his mother's coffin into the ground. 

'W-why... h-how are you here Y/N?' his voice merely a croak. 

'Dustin called and I got on a plane straight away. You were in trouble. That's all I needed to know.'

You crawl up next to him as finally, for the first time since he saw Chrissy's crumpled lifeless body on his floor, Eddie lets himself go. Leaning against you, his face burrowed into your chest, sobs erupt causing his lanky frame to tremble and your top to soak with tears. He tells you every detail, the parts he hadn't wanted to scare the kids with. The way her bones crunched like twigs underfoot, how her once sparkling eyes crushed like grapes, every violent impact on the innocent girl's body inhuman. 

The bond that exists between you means not once does he question whether you believe his story or the insane revelation of the supernatural. The gang had told you everything, from Will's disappearance to where you are now and somehow it didn't surprise you. There had always been a twisted aura enveloping Hawkins that you'd never been able to ignore ever since you were a child. It was a topic your Grandmother frequently mentioned about the town you both called home; since time began there has been a darkness to Hawkins. 

Once again it felt like your destiny to be Eddie Munson's protector. Refusing to leave his side once you'd finally been reunited, whatever inter-dimensional beast or holier than thou towns person came for Eddie, they'd have to get through you first. You fingers intwined with his as you both swam into the depths of Lover's Lake, another location from your childhood together charred from the trauma Eddie had witnessed there. Pushing through to the surface you now came face to face with the hellish underbelly of Hawkins, the source of all the unexplained horrors that had occurred over the last three years. Instinctively you clung to Eddie holding him back as you witnessed demonic bats descend from the twisted red skies onto Steve Harrington. Nancy's screams and Eddie's tugging pull you out of the panicked vision of Eddie in Steve's place, being ravaged at all angles by the bats; you desperately needed him out of this and into safety.

The pair of you kick into action attempting to save Steve whilst you never let Eddie stray from your peripheral. Finally as the bats cower away you exhale and watch as Nancy attends to Steve's wounds. You can't help but notice the glimmer of adoration and heartbreak as she sees the damage, the way her fingers are gentle against his skin as her touch lingers a little too long and her eyes soften at his words. You force yourself to look away and continue forward with Robin as Eddie holds back with Steve, wrapping him in his jacket. Watching your shoes shuffle in the dirt, you look down in attempt to hide the blush rising on your cheeks as you realise the way Nancy looks at Steve is surely the way the world sees you look at Eddie. At least Nancy had the excuse of being his ex, of having held him in the ways you'd longed to hold Eddie but unfortunately you had no excuse; you'd never been so lucky to call Eddie yours. With the watergate closed you all pursue another avenue and continue onwards to the Wheeler house in search of weapons. As you finally arrive and begin to file up the stairs to Nancy's bedroom, Eddie's hand finds yours and pulls you back. 

The deep brown warmth in his eyes as they gaze up at you makes your heart burn similar to the burning sensation on your skin as Eddie's thumb rubs your knuckles. He looks at you and speaks with a sincerity rare for your best friend.

'I-I'm glad you're here Y/N... I mean... I'd rather you were away from this and safe but...'

You squeeze his hand as you indulge, letting your free hand brush his still damp fringe out his eyes. 

'Of course I'm here. I'd follow you anywhere... even through space and time,' you chuckle as you gesture around to the surreal surroundings you find yourselves in. 

Eddie faintly smiles back as he captures your other hand now, gripping them both intensely. 

'It's selfish but... I couldn't get through this without you, sweetheart.' 

It's a nickname that's lasted a lifetime and it still makes your blood rush without fail. You pull your conjoined hands to your lips and press a kiss to each. 

'You'll never have to get through anything without me. You're stuck with me for life.' 

Your heart is internally screaming please keep me around for life but you dare not let it slip.  

The moment is interrupted as Robin shouts for you both and fills you in on their discoveries; that the Upside Down is stuck in 1983 and that they can communicate with Dustin on the other side. You struggle to pay attention to Dustin's words and revelations, your eyes fixated on the way the energy twinkling from the lights reflects every shade of Eddie's eyes; shades of caramel, chocolate and espresso. 

Eventually you reach Eddie's trailer and see his lip tremble as you all enter. His eyes fixate on one spot and it goes without saying that it's where he saw Chrissy die. It feels disgustingly cruel for his own home to now be marred by this dark events. Dustin's cheerful face breaks the tension as it appears at the portal opening and you watch as Eddie visibly relaxes a the sight and sound of the boy. It's a comfort knowing Eddie had someone he was truly at ease with in your absence. You all venture into his bedroom and it's a familiar sight you've missed so much. It's wall to wall Eddie. His posters, his guitars, his bedsheets and clothes and... you spot something crumpled on the floor. 

'Urm Nance...'

She whips around to meet you, 'Yeah?'

'Did you say you think this place... this version of Hawkins was stuck in 83?'

She nods, 'Yep, pretty much. 6th November 83, the day Will went missing... why?'

You point to what caught your eye.

'Guess I was staying here that night,' you shrug. 

In the corner, next to the side of the bed Eddie usually sleeps on his a pile of your clothes. A small black satin dress, a matching set of pink lace underwear and a pair of black ankle boots. You'd forgotten you ever owned any of it, not having seen them in years. You're oblivious to Eddie's reaction to seeing what you point at, his cheeks redden, eyes wide as he gulps. Everyone stares at him but you, who starts to tie up sheets to use as a ladder between portals. 

Eddie coughs and manages to stutter out, 'Urm, y-yeah... you were here that night...' 

He's grateful that you're too distracted to see his pink cheeks and that his hair is still wet, hiding the beads of sweat surely trickling from his forehead. 

'That's wild, I totally forgot,' you shrug as you walk back into the living room. 

Nancy and Robin eyes shift at Eddie before following you out of the room. Steve stays and takes in Eddie's nervous appearance, 

'What the fuck dude?' His eyebrows raise, baffled as to what he just witnessed. 

Eddie shakes his head, 'don't ask...' he sighs and closes his eyes tightly. 

Steve looks over at the pile of clothes and back at the tension in Eddie's face, he attempts to sooth it. 

Batting his arm, Steve smirks 'cute panties though, right?'

Eddie's eyes jump back open, the red of the sky outside reflecting in the brown orbs and he raises his hand to Steve who jumps back in time. 

'Do. Not. Harrington,' he snarls. 

Steve raises his hands in surrender as he backs out the room, attempting to hide a smirk. 

'Alright, alright. Touchy subject, clearly, Munson.' 

Once Eddie is left alone in his bedroom he moves over to the pile of your clothes and lets the satin and lace glide through his fingers. Even in this godforsaken dimension, your smell still radiates from the fibres although mixed with whisky. He carefully folds them, pulls an old suitcase out from under his bed and opens it. In there are treasures, pictures of his Mom, song lyrics, old picks, gig tickets and birthday cards. He delicately places your clothes in there. Had the Upside Down mirrored his bedroom as it was now in 1986, your clothes would still be there folded perfectly in his box of treasures. 

It had been easy to slot into the group who'd been protecting your best friend in your absence. The Harringtons ran in the same circles as your Grandmother, many a ridiculous social event you and Steve had sought each other out to sit in the corner together. Robin although a couple years younger, had been interested in art like you so you'd run into each other in the art classrooms. Nancy had always been on a level above her peers, taking several of your senior classes despite being a sophomore. As for the kids, particularly Dustin, it was easy to connect with people who saw just how special Eddie was. You'd made it out of the portal and back into the real world. Your eyes scanned round the group of your new friends and allies. As you huddled together in the Max's trailer, plotting how to defeat Vecna you knew there'd been one ally you had yet to recruit - your Grandmother. Nancy had scavenged all the information she could on Vecna; from Victor Creel to Henry himself but there was one source of Hawkins history that hadn't been tapped into. Your Gran was born into a very wealthy founding family of Hawkins, it's story was her own. 

Earlier as you had clung to Eddie as you entered the Upside Down, across town your Gran sat at the back of the townhall listening to her community descend into madness. There were things in Hawkins they could never understand yet she had long suspected. Since childhood she felt the darkness infiltrate the streets she walked and the air she breathed. In 1959 a neighbour at the end of her street passed away leaving the home to his great niece and her family - The Creels. The events that happened in that house confirmed everything your Gran had ever theorised about Hawkins - it was cursed. Every detail she was able to piece together from neighbourhood gossip, police reports and the tales her daughter (your Mom) had told of the siblings Henry and Alice Creel that she had attended school with. All of it brought her to the conclusion that there was something that existed beyond what we understand. Then there was the Laboratory. It had appeared not long after the Second World War, her father some how involved in its funding and formation. She didn't know much about her father's work and that was by his own design, all she knew was that it wasn't savoury - nothing good ever paid so well. Often in the middle of the night she'd be awoken by the phone ringing, usually within ten minutes of the call she would hear her father leaving the house, she knew it meant something had gone wrong at the lab.

By the 50s, she sensed whatever was occurring at the lab had intensified as her father was pulled out of retirement and the atmosphere of Hawkins blackened further. Anytime she visited, her mother would inform her he was either out or shut away in his office with the men in black hats. Then after the Creel murders happened, something shifted in her father. He looked paler, gaunter, his eyes hollowed and empty, as if he were in a constant state of having seen a ghost. That is when she decided for sure whatever happened at Creel House was beyond human as was what occurred in the confines of Hawkins Lab. By 1960 her father had died and she sensed decades of harbouring these secret horrors finally took its toll on his body. As time went by, the Creel family faded to an urban legend within the town, everyone blissful to forget beside your Gran.

Then the events of 83 occurred, a boys dead body found one minute then he returns the next, unexplained deaths and increased activity at the lab. To her, all of it screamed cover up, something she could imagine her father hatching up in his office with the men in black hat. Since then incidents only continued, each more bizarre than the last and always haphazardly explained. Now she found herself here listening to her town finally realising none of this was normal and her completely missing the mark. Blaming it on satanism and cults, blaming on a boy she viewed as a grandson. A boy she knew was innocent. 

After convincing the group your Gran would understand, you found yourself pulling up to her house - your house. Steve and Dustin accompanied you to knock on as the rest of them stayed in the camper van Eddie had stolen. The door opened to your Gran's smiling face and after everything you'd learnt over the past couple of days, you just needed to be in her arms and comforted by the only real parent you'd ever had. Her arms instantly wrapped round you, her delicate hands stroking your back and hair soothingly like you were a child all over again. Soft kisses were placed at the crown of your head. 

'You came home to help Eddie, didn't you?' She murmured. 

'He didn't do it, Gran. I swear,' you couldn't help the sob that escaped you. 

She takes your face in her hands and instantly the smile on her face soothes your worries. 

'I know, of course he didn't. It's our Eddie we're talking about.' 

Our Eddie. It makes you smile just how deeply apart of each other's existence you are. 

Your Gran frees you and turns to your friends, waving them in. 

'Hello Steve and young man, you are?'

'Dustin, ma'am!' 

His formality makes your Gran smirk. 

'Okay Dustin, well come on in boys and you can just call me Ruby.'

The three of you follow your Gran into her sitting room and instantly you all scramble to fill her in from Will's disappearance to the present day. All she does is nod and occasionally close her eyes, her hands clasped together. 

'Ma'a- Ruby... do you believe us? I know it sounds ridic-' Dustin stammers but your Gran raises her hand and cuts him off. 

'I knew it. Finally. An entire lifetime I knew there was something wrong with Hawkins and thank god you kids finally worked it all out.'

Steve and Dustin look between each other blinking, shocked at her total belief and lack of questions. You just smile, you knew she'd understand it all if not be completely thrilled she finally had answers to decades of questions. The clap of her hands and her bejewelled rings clinking together gets the boys attention. 

'So,' she grins, 'what's the plan? What do you need from me?' 

So now you find yourself with a full plan to defeat Vecna ready to be enacted. All of you split into separate groups: Max, Lucas and Erica at the Creel House, Robin, Nancy and Steve at the Upside Down alternative and you sitting at the edge of the portal in Eddie's trailer as he and Dustin lower themselves into the Upside Down side. All of you armed by weapons funded by your Gran. It infuriated you to be left on the outside as Eddie threw himself into danger but they'd all argued they needed someone at the portal, ready to help them through and to hand if something went wrong in either world. Eddie had to unlatch your grip from his hand, he kissed your head as he whispered,

'You can't always be the one saving me, sweetheart.'

The words made you feel sick, it was alien to not be by Eddie's side to protect him. You wait alone and anxious, picking at an abandoned flannel of Eddie's you found on the sofa next to you. Finally, the silence is broken by Robin's crackle through the walkie,

'Initiate Phase 3.'

'Understood Buckley, Phase 3 about to be initiated,' both Eddie and Dustin's voices chirp through the speaker. 

Hearing his voice alone allows you the breathe a little easier until you realise now it's really happening, now is where the trouble begins. 

Within minutes you begin to feel the vibrations from the amps on the other side and Eddie's guitar kicks in. A grin spreads over your face as you lean further to the portal to listen closer. Master of Puppets. You can't help but chuckle, of course your best friend chose to defeat an inter-dimensional monster with Metallica. Ever since its release he'd been dedicated every spare moment to practising it. Multiple scheduled calls were missed because he'd become so absorbed in attempting to perfectly repeating the chords but you understood, his passion just another thing you loved about him. When he did remember, he often put you on loudspeaker as he continued to try and master the solo. But it was hard to talk when you could picture him sat on the edge of his bed, calloused fingers burning as he repeated notes until it was flawless, the veins in his hands, neck and arms protruding as he tensed and his tongue poking out like it always did when he concentrated hard. However none of the times you'd heard him had he played like this.

Through dimensions you could hear the passion he was playing with, you knew his entire being was being forced into this song and it showed, every note flawless. When you closed your eyes you could picture him stood on the roof, wind whipping round his curls, his body rippling in movement with the guitar and the sleeves of his leather jacket taught and crinkled with his movements. It killed you to be missing his most mental performance yet. The wretched screeches of the bats pulled you from your longing and made your heart rate pick up. The plan had worked clearly but now that meant they were making a beeline for Eddie. The image of seeing the bats lunging at Steve's body earlier made your stomach churn. The thought of Eddie... your legs were already dangling over the edge of the portal when silence fell. Time ticked slowly and it all felt wrong. You grabbed for your walkie,

' Dustin?' You panted, 'what's going on? Why is it quite?'

Silence. No response. It was all too quite. 

You hurled yourself through the portal, crashing onto the mattress you'd peacefully curled up on with Eddie so many times. You wished that's where you really were now, asleep bedside him and having the worst dream of your life. But you weren't. You stumbled to your feet and wrenched open the trailer door. The sky was darker than earlier, now a deep crimson with murky clouds and crackling lightening. Dustin stood nervously not far from the trailer... without Eddie. 

'What the fuck is going on?' you hissed. 

'He's gone rogue...' Dustin whispered, his eyes wide and you looked in the direction of his stare. 

The bats were silent because they'd been occupied with chasing Eddie who was fleeing away from the trailer. 

'What the hell is he doing?! You were supposed to play then get in the fucking trailer!' You scowled. 

'Th-they were too quick! We couldn't get from the roof to the door so he started running, s-so I could get in safely,' Dustin's bottom lip was trembling. 

You couldn't be mad at him, this screamed of Eddie's recklessness. You reached out and squeezed Dustin's shoulder. 

'Please, please, get inside. Get upside and safe. I'll deal with him.'

Dustin nods and begins to back up the stairs to the trailer. 

You're furious at Eddie's recklessness. Enraged he'd risk himself like this, make Dustin witness and risk leaving you. His figure continues to flee into the distance on a bike. You march closer, standing safely away from the trailer door which Dustin has finally retreated through. 

'EDWARD FUCKING MUNSON,' you bellow, 'WHAT PART OF THE FUCKING PLAN IS THIS?'

Your voice booms through the desolate land, bouncing off the tinny trailers and catching not only Eddie's attention but the bats. All of them screeching to a halt. 

'GET INSIDE NOW!' Eddie shouts back. 

He should know how stubborn you are, you stomp forward and you can see him shaking his head and flapping his arms encouraging you to move. 

'NO YOU FUCKING IDIOT! GET HERE NOW. WHERE IN THE PLAN DID WE DECIDE TO PLAY HUMAN SACRIFICE?' the anger inside you has completely erupted, you cannot believe how stupid he'd be. The rage is blinding you that all you can see is Eddie's frustrated figure and not the bats who are beginning to be lured by your echoing voice. 

'YOU SCARED DUSTIN! YOU SCARED ME! THIS IS NOT D&D, THIS IS NOT A FANTASY TO PLAY THE HERO! GET. INSIDE. NOW.' 

Some how your voice has grown even louder, Eddie has never heard you neither this loud nor angry. It's terrifying but what scares him more is how you've completely backfired his plan. The bats are now hurtling towards you and you're oblivious, still screeching at him. 

'Y/N be careful! They're coming your way now, for fucks sake!' 

Finally you process the world around you beside Eddie and see the black mass of bats now turned and flapping in your direction. Frantically, you spin to find the nearest weapon at your disposal. A shot gun sits propped up against the railings of the trailer and you skid over grabbing it. Cocking it, you're never more grateful for a ridiculous upbringing that resulted in you learning to shoot clay pigeons. 

Eddie's eyes bulge as he watches you shoot down the bats like it was second nature. His fingers grip at his hair knowing there's more bats than bullets and they're a lot faster than the gun. 

'Crazy bitch,' he mutters and he assesses his surroundings, 'couldn't just let me protect her for once.' 

He spots the wire for the amp dangling off the roof of the trailer and speeds back off towards it, hoping the guitar works again. 

The bats are dropping one by one but they continue to close in on you. They block your view and you pray for once in his life Eddie Munson has made a sensible decision and gone inside... but alas you were wrong. 

The amp screeches back to life and the bats flinch at the noise pivoting again back towards Eddie. Your fingers grip tight on the gun as you see him clearly now, round the side of the trailer across from you, calloused fingers causing his guitar to break through the noise again. Motherfucker, you think. 

You try to shout again to get the bats back to you but your voice is now hoarse and incomparable to the volume of the amps. 

The gun blasts to life again as you attempt to shoot down the swarm that is spiralling round Eddie but it's futile. The bats appear to have tripled in number. A darkness whispers through your mind it's no use. 

Tears trickle at the panic that's coursing through your veins, you attempt to move towards him but your legs are trembling and the shaking slows down the number of shots you can fire. As your arms lower, bullets all spent, you can finally hear his song. It's not Metallica now but your favourite and now the tears flood your waterline. Hot on your skin and completely obscuring the view of Eddie. 

Eddie watches you try to stumble nearer through the gaps between the beasts that swirl around him. He's stuck in the eye of a demonic tornado. He's the unlikely hero attempting to save princess who can only succeed at a cost. Your life is worth much more, he believes that to his core. But for once he thinks he can finally call himself a hero, protecting you for once instead of vice versa. Eddie is sure he has them all of the bats to his attention now, safely away from you. No need to play anymore he stops and lifts his guitar, swinging it round his head like a baseball bat. The bats screech and their blood splatters against his face each time he catches another. It's exhausting, another appearing in place of any he strikes. His arms and lungs ache. 

'Don't...' he gasps, 'you dare fucking hurt her. Don't...'

One bat manages to side sweep him, the sharp tail taking his legs out from under him. Eddie crashes to the floor and all he sees is black, the swarm entirely filling his line of vision. Over their screeches he can barely hear you cry his name. He groans as hot punctures strike at him repeatedly. The bats are quick to shred his pre ripped jeans and the thin cotton of his t-shirt. His trusty leather jacket providing him an armour that it had already done since the day you bought it for him. There's not point fooling himself, Eddie knows the hot trickles he feels down his torso and legs is his own blood. He closes his eyes, I'm really fucking tired he thinks. 

 Scarlet thunder cracks brutally through the blackened sky. Once, twice, three, four times. The bats instantly screech and drop fast and hard. Their bodies thumbing to the ground, the shield drop and revealing Eddie lying there motionless. Your scream pierces the silence, feet crunching over the dust and bodies to get to him. 

'Eddie,' you're barely able to croak as you take in the sight before you. 

His t-shirt tattered, gashes littering his sides as hot red pulses out of them and an unholy rate. Your heart and stomach plummet. Dropping to your knees by his side you rip off your sweater. Pushing it against the blood flow. A sharp gasp escapes Eddie and whilst you hate to hurt him, you're so pleased to hear a noise. 

'Teddy, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. I need to stop the bleeding okay?' 

His eyes are drooping heavily, his chest raising faintly. You cradle his face, stroking away his hair and letting your forehead fall to his. 

'W-why did you do that?' you sob

Eddie wheezes attempting to answer and your hand goes to sooth him, stroking his neck. 

'C-couldn't... let... them...hurt you,' he splutters, blood splattering out his mouth. It's bad.You shake your head and try to protest but he muscles the strength to take take your hand in is. 

'You'd h-have... done the same,' he smiles. 

Even with bloody smeared over his face he is the most beautiful human you've ever seen. 

'Yeah... I would've,' you chuckle between sniffs. 

You heart cracks, his eyes droop closed and his body feels cooler each second. 

'Please, please stay awake Teddy. Please,' you're begging, tears streaming down into his neck where you've buried your face. The hand he had taken yours in shifts, managing to tangle into a lock of your hair. Your eyes shut blissfully at the touch, you never want him to stop touching you even if he's never touched you in all the ways you want. Eddie's throat croaks again and push up to look at his face. 

'Through,' he coughs again, more blood splatters out, 'space and time, yeah? Sweethea...' 

Eddie's eyes finally fluttered closed and then fingers than had been clutching your hair slack. If he goes knowing you're safe and you're the last thing his eyes ever got to enjoy and your skin was the final thing he got to touch, then that's a pretty good way to go. 

 Your own heart stops as you scan his face. Fingers clutching at the sides of his face, shaking him. Harder and harder. 

'Eddie?' you welp.  

'EDDIE?!' you grip at the scuffed leather.

No response. No movement. The blood that had been gushing from him has stilled. You throw your body over his. Face buried into his bloody chest, careless to its stains. 

'Don't you dare fucking leave me Edward Munson. I don't know how to exist without you, I don't think I do exist without you,' you whisper through a fresh wave of sobs. 

Your fingers find his pick necklace and you press your lips to it. 'Please, Teddy. I'm so in love with you. Please.' 

When Dustin finds you, quickly followed by Steve, Robin and Nancy, they gasp at the sight before them. You're curled up on Eddie's body, when they tug you away, you're covered in as much blood as Eddie. Collectively they carry him, your hand never leaving his. 

Once top side, they lay Eddie in back of Steve's car. You crawl in beside him and the gang look mournful as they watch Steve reverse, speeding away to the hospital. You're completely oblivious to the world outside of yours and Eddie's bodies. Steve let's tears seep as he keeps his eyes on the road, determined to pretend he can't hear the way you confess your love to Eddie. Whatever happens, he thinks, I'll never mention I heard that. 

A group of people haul Eddie out the backseat and into the hospital, you chasing frantically. Determined to never let him out of your sight. The doctors and nurses look in horror as they assess his injuries, petrified as to what could cause such unholy damage. You screech at them to stop as they cut away his clothes,

'Don't... don't rip that!' You cry as you take Eddie's leather jacket off for him. Steve and a nurse stroke your back as your carefully take off every ring, bracelet and necklace. Pressing a kiss to his buckles when you remove the final one. To the staff you must look like a distraught wife, you could only dream. The nurse tugs you away,

'Please honey, you have to let go of him now if the Doctors have any hope of saving him.' 

Steve takes you into his arms as you begin to cry more. As Eddie is wheeled away, the nurse shakes her head at Steve and mouths 'prepare her for the worst.' He nods, pulling you now over to the sofa and laying you down. 

Steve watches trying to stifle his own tears now as he sees you cover your body in Eddie's leather jacket and place each of his rings on yourself. As your exhausted eyes flutter closed, he witnesses you bring the rings to your lips. All of it means so much more now, Steve realises. You were completely in love with Eddie Munson. 

apparently we have a type of man ...

long-haired man >>>>