Chapter Text
Days. Weeks. Months. He’s still not back. Every day I wake up, hoping, wishing, even praying to a God I don’t even know or believe in to bring him home. God, if I could just see the shit eating grin he always had one more time, I would be content. But no. Eddie’s not coming back.
I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for the tears to move from my eyes. If last year's me saw me right now, he would deny every single piece of evidence shown that led me to where I am now.
What led me to falling helplessly in love with the man that sacrificed himself to save Dustin. My son. Eddie “the freak” Munson, of all people.
Who would’ve thought?
I definitely didn’t, but that was the point. He was seen as the guy who stayed in his comfort zone instead of being a daredevil, the guy who got anxious at the thought of danger, the guy who ran away from problems.
But this time, he didn’t run. The one time he should’ve ran, he didn’t. He fought back. To give us a sliver of time to get out.
He lost his life saving us from the monsters that still haunt me but I’m not the only one.
Dustin: the boy who watched one of his best friends lose his fight. Everything about him changed; his once unique happiness soon turned into pure disparity.
The day he watched his best friend die, a part of him seemed to die too.
For the first week, I went to his house to check on him, just to make sure he wouldn’t fall into a downward spiral of guilt and blame. Though I tried to convince him it wasn’t anyone’s fault, he didn’t believe me.
He believed he should’ve seen it coming; he should’ve fought to keep Eddie from wandering off to distract the bats. He even wished that it was him, not Eddie.
That part broke me. There aren’t many things that make me sad, but as soon as I heard the words “it should’ve been me, not him”, my heart shattered.
Our boy wished he would’ve died that day. He wanted it to happen.
He broke down as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me as I whispered quiet “don’t say that”s and “you didn’t do anything right”s into his temple.
All I wanted to do was take his pain away, but I couldn’t. I knew that, but I wished I could. Maybe even just wipe his memory of what happened.
But I couldn’t. All I could do was be there for him. All I could do was wait; wait for him to come out of his bedroom.
Eventually, he did try to go back to “normal Dustin”, but it still disturbed him at night. He would wake up to repeated nightmares of that night. Half of the time, he ran on less than three hours of sleep because of them.
Just like I am right now. It’s currently five a.m. and I have to wake up at seven to get ready for the day I’ve dreaded for the past week.
Eddie’s “funeral”.
It’s not really a funeral since we couldn’t bring his corpse out of the Upside Down, but it’s more of a memorial thing for his uncle.
We all had our own, everyone in our group went, even the California Crew who never met him. Oh, how they would’ve loved him.
But now all I can think about was how I never got to tell him how much he impacted my life. How he showed me that it’s okay to be weird, or how he proved that no one’s opinion matters but your own, or how he showed me what true love really was.
No, I never got to see his romantic side, but he did teach me true love isn’t just a feeling like a butterfly in your stomach, but a whole need.
A need to be near someone everyday, a need to make someone happy. It’s not how the adults described it to us when we were kids; it’s not just the birds and the bees, it’s more than that.
People say that love is a dangerous game, and it is. It’s one where you have to be careful; where you have to walk on a tightrope of silence in order to keep yourself from falling into a pit of rejection and embarrassment. And if you fall, either land in the arms of the one you love, or into the pit you hide from.
I never tried to walk across the rope as I was too busy sitting in the chair of denial. Though I wish I would’ve stood up and accepted the fact it’s okay earlier, it’s too late.
I can’t go back and tell Eddie “the freak” Munson about how Steve “the hair” Harrington fell in love with him like a chick in a romance novel. I can’t confess my love as if my life depended on it.
It’s seven a.m.
—
The early morning air drew cold as the sound of the trees made the breeze more noticeable. Standing in all black, Wayne stood, staring blankly at the stone in front of him. On either side of him stood both the Hawkins and the California crew; both sides looked at each other then to the empty grave.
I walk up slowly in hopes of avoiding unnecessary eyes on me caused by my tardiness. Unfortunately, the crackling leaves gave me away, but it seemed to have drawn everyone out of their awkward state.
Taking my place, I scan the group, looking at each and every one of the well known faces. They were all pretty upset but the worst of all had to be Wayne’s. He tried to hide it, but I could see right through.
A single tear rolled down his slightly wrinkled cheek as another threatened to fall from his other eye. Pain; pain was all that could be seen in the worn out eyes of a man who lost his happiness. My throat tightened at the thought of not knowing how he felt.
But all I could do was stare at the grave like everyone else.