Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

it’s too late to say you’re sorry
how would i know, why should i care?
please don’t bother tryin’ to find her
she’s not there
-the zombies, “she’s not there”

Once again, it begins with a letter. 

Ever since that letter came, several weeks ago, Eddie hates getting the mail. 

He does it anyway, for a few reasons; one, because the distance from his place to the cluster mailbox at the entrance of the trailer park is just over a mile, and Chrissy says the walk is good exercise for him. (And no, she will not accept his excuse of greatly preferring other types of exercise.) Two, because it is actually kind of nice to wander quietly through the trailer park instead of ripping through it with music blaring. He starts noticing stuff like people planting flowers, or painting their porches, or when the Kleins put up a little swing set for their grandkids. He makes friends with a couple of cool dogs and a very fat cat who loves belly rubs. He sees a few of the same neighbors every morning, and some of them start smiling at him. He starts smiling back. 

Three is the most important reason, though. He gets the mail every day precisely because he hates it. No more running, he’d promised, and he meant it, even from something as stupid as looking for bad news every time he unlocks their tiny compartment. His therapist says that small victories are just as important as big ones, sometimes maybe more. Getting the mail feels small and big all at once. 

And usually there isn’t bad news. Bills don’t count as bad news anymore, now that there’s actually enough money to pay them. Most of the rest of it is junk. Usually there isn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

Usually. 

Today there’s a letter. 

A heavy cream-colored envelope, addressed to Wayne, from someone called Parker in someplace called Morgan Heights. It doesn’t look bad. It doesn’t look good, either. It looks— out of the ordinary. 

(The Upside Down gave Eddie a much greater appreciation for things being ordinary.)

He tries not to notice that Wayne blanches when he reads the return address on that envelope. He tries not to watch Wayne shove the letter in his back pocket, take it to his room to read in private. He tries not to be anxious when the letter is not mentioned over breakfast. He tries to convince himself that it’s nothing to worry about, that nothing bad has happened. 

“I was gonna wait til tonight, but you ain’t gonna settle down one bit til I show you that letter, are you, son?”

Maybe he could’ve convinced himself, but he’s never been able to fool Wayne. 

“I guess not,” Eddie admits. He’d been spinning his fork in circles on the table while Wayne and Chrissy ate. His breakfast plate is still untouched. “Is it bad?”

“It was a surprise, I’ll tell you that much,” mutters Wayne as he retrieves the letter from his room. He passes it to Eddie and stands just behind him, hands resting on his shoulders, a strong comforting presence that gives Eddie the courage to unfold the paper. 

Dear Wayne Munson,

Several weeks ago I read of the death of your brother in the newspaper. I apologize for the delay in sending this, but I wanted to extend my sincerest condolences for your loss. 

I wish, if you will permit me, to also express my sympathy to Edward. I have thought of him often over the years. In fact, I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I would very much like to contact him. Perhaps someday we might be able to arrange for me to speak with you both. I understand if this request seems strange to you. David has never changed his mind, although recent events have changed mine, so of course we must use discretion. 

I will await your response. I hope you and Edward are well.

Cordially yours,
Mrs. Joan Parker

To say Eddie is confused would be a massive understatement. “I don’t understand. What is this? Who’s Joan Parker, how does she know us? Why does she want to contact me? What is all that about David and discretion?” Wayne shakes his head, rubs his hands over his face. Eddie hears his own voice rising, a panicky note creeping in, but he can’t control it. “Papa, what is this? Who is this from?”

Wayne sucks in a deep breath, lets it go in a heavy sigh. 

“Joan Parker is your grandma. Your mother’s mother.”

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is a high pitched incoherent noise with an upward inflection, something sort of resembling but not quite what? Chrissy immediately grabs his hand, twining their fingers together, grounding him. He squeezes tight, closes his eyes, takes three slow deep breaths. Then he looks up at Wayne. “Go on.”

“David is her husband. He’s a hard man. Tony told me when they first got married, David wouldn’t have nothing to do with your Ma once she ran away, because he hated my brother and he hated that his daughter chose my brother over him. I s’pose he kept his wife on a tight leash ‘cause when he said ‘you can’t see your daughter long as she’s with that thug’ she went right along with it. I only met them once, the day I went to get you, Ed, and he told me in no uncertain terms that nobody in his family would ever be speaking to anyone named Munson again.” He pauses, sighs again. “‘Cept he didn’t say it quite as polite as all that. That’s what she means when she says David never changed his mind. Don’t reckon I know what he’d do if he found out she wrote to us. I can’t imagine how she even got our address without him finding out.”

Eddie takes a few more deep breaths while he ponders this. Chrissy rubs little soothing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. He lifts her hand, presses it against his face for a moment. 

“Let me get this straight,” he says finally. “I have a grandmother. And a grandfather, who hated my father, which, okay, fair enough, who didn’t?— but he also hates me, and you, just for carrying the old Munson name. And this grandmother, who I have never seen or spoken to, as far as I remember, in all my nearly 21 years on this planet, because the grandfather told her she wasn’t allowed to speak to me? But she has apparently— secretly?— been thinking about me?” He jumps up to pace around the kitchen, unable to sit still a second longer. “And she saw something about my father in the newspaper and decided hey, today’s the day to sneak behind my husband’s back and send a note to say sorry for your loss of this bastard we hated, and by the way, wanna hang out? No. I don’t like this. This is fucked up. Why would she do this?”

“I don’t know, son.” Wayne rubs his eyes again. “I don’t know. I’m as confused as you are.”

“But we could find out,” Chrissy suggests timidly. Both of them turn abruptly to stare at her, Wayne’s brow furrowed in confusion, Eddie… well, Eddie actually has no idea what kind of face he’s making, but it probably isn’t a good one. His mouth is hanging open for sure. A silent moment passes before he manages to say, “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I am serious,” she insists. “There has to be a reason. Look what she says about ‘recent events’. Something changed her mind about avoiding you guys. Maybe it’s, like, safe now? Since Tony’s gone? Maybe her husband won’t be mad anymore? She’s waiting for your response. She wants to talk to you! She has to have a reason for wanting to talk to you now. We should find out. Eddie, we have to find out.”

He stops pacing, plops down heavily in the chair next to her. Looks uncertainly to Wayne. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to, darlin’. It’s up to you,” Wayne reassures him. “You can throw this letter in the trash if you want. I ain’t got nothin’ to say to her, but if you do… Well. Anythin’ you wanna do is all right by me.”

Chrissy nods in agreement. “He’s right. I’m sorry, angel. This isn’t my decision. Just think about it for now, huh? If you want to try to talk to her, I’ll help. And if you want to forget all about this, that’s okay too. Whatever you want, I’m on your side.”

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, should we take a vote?” Eddie asks the group reclined in various positions around the fire pit in Steve’s backyard. 

They’re missing Mike and El, and Jonathan and Nancy— some sort of Wheeler family trip— but the rest of the Party has assembled to hear Eddie’s unbelievable story. He even brought the letter, and they passed it around to study it carefully as he recounted what Wayne had told him. 

“Just, quick poll. Should I try to contact her. For or against, with one sentence supporting your position,” Eddie suggests. He turns first to Chrissy; he values the Party highly (of course, he wouldn’t ask them if he didn’t) but her opinion is always his touchstone. “Go ahead, sweetness. I know you’re ‘for’ but let’s hear your argument.”

“I just think there has to be a compelling reason for her to want to contact you guys.” Chrissy tells the group. 

Eddie nods. “Red?”

“Against,” Max says immediately. “She wants something, and she doesn’t have the right to want anything from you.”

He studies her face carefully for a moment, noting her fierce expression, before nodding again. “Harrington.”

“I think I’m… for? I mean, it’s definitely weird, but I’ll admit I’m curious about what she wants.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Can I ask a question too? Don’t you wanna know what she’s like?”

“Wayne told me what she’s like. Or at least, what she was like back then. So my very comprehensive answer to your question is, I don’t know. Henderson?”

“For!” Dustin chirps. “Dude, my grandma is awesome, don’t you want one?”

Eddie tries to frown, although Dustin is so cute it’s kind of hard. “I don’t know that, either. That’s why we’re here. Buckley?”

“Against. This is some sinister shit,” Robin says decisively. 

“Mmm, sinister. Much better description than mine, which was ‘fucked up’. Sinclair.”

Lucas sighs. “I really don’t know, man. I’m like… my head is for but my gut is against. But I’ll go with for because of what Chrissy said, I wanna know what made her suddenly need to find you after all this time.”

“I’ll take the against,” Erica pipes up before he can ask. “Roll for insight, nerd, this is a terrible idea.”

“Not exactly concrete reasoning, but I appreciate the illustration. What say you, Will the Wise?”

“For,” Will says softly. “You should give her a chance to say if she’s sorry. Also Mom would want you to.”

“That’s two sentences, Byers, and no fair invoking the incantation of Mom Would Want. You know I’m powerless against that shit.”

“Well, she would!” Will insists. “I’m just saying! She’d say this could be wonderful for you, honey”— his voice pitches up in a scarily accurate imitation of Joyce— “and you’d get all red and embarrassed but then you’d say she was right. You would.”

“Jesus.” Eddie’s getting all red right now, he can tell. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Joyce and they all know it. “You’re lucky I like you. So, okay, that’s 5 to 3 in favor of contact. Buckley, any rebuttals for the majority?”

“Well, like, it’s just so weird, who even does this? Who like fucks off and forgets they have a grandson for 20 years and then suddenly writes a note one day like ‘by the way, been thinking of you’?” Robin scoffs. “It’s weird as hell. And kind of insulting. And also, like what if we’re getting this entirely wrong? She doesn’t actually SAY ‘come visit me and ask me what the hell I meant by sending you this weirdly formal letter’, y’know? Maybe it’s just, she saw something in the paper about your dad and she was all, holy shit my daughter used to be married to that guy, well here’s hoping if I send his family a note and light a candle in church this Sunday then I’ll be forgiven for ignoring their kid for the last 20 years or whatever.”

Steve shoots Robin a warning look, but Eddie actually snorts out a little laugh. Robin is completely incapable of bullshitting, and he loves that about her. “You make a compelling argument. Anything to add, Red?”

“I really don’t like the part she wrote about your so-called grandfather never changing his mind.” Max’s brow furrows with concern. “I feel like, anyone who would sit back and let her husband tell her she can’t ever talk to her daughter or her grandson? That’s a really shitty person. She should’ve stood up for you and she never did. Why would you need her now?”

“Duly noted,” Eddie starts to say, but Dustin speaks over him. 

“Maybe she needs him,” Dustin counters. “Maybe when she read about your dad she was like, holy shit, life can change in an instant. Time for me to figure out what’s important. Know what’s important? My grandson! I should find him because he’s probably awesome!”

“That’s very optimistic of you, Dusty-bun, but I don’t think it’s that easy,” Max objects. “I don’t think anything is ever that easy.”

“Maybe she’s trying not to be a shitty person anymore?” Chrissy says gently. “Maybe she wants to try to make amends.”

“It’s a little late for that!” sasses Erica. “Have you seen how old he is? He doesn’t need a grandma to tuck him in and read him stories. I bet Max is right. She wants something. And I hope it’s money, ‘cause it’ll serve her right when she finds out you don’t have any.”

“Damn.” Eddie dramatically clutches his chest. “Tell us how it really is, why dontcha.”

“But come on, admit it. At this point, you’re kinda dying of curiosity, aren’t you?” Lucas points out. “I know I am.”

“She does sound like she can’t come right out and say she thinks David’s wrong, but she’s hinting at it,” Steve adds. “‘I know I have no right to ask this of you’, come on. There’s, like, all kinds of repressed emotions just in that one line. ‘I will await your response’, just, wow. And that she’s changed her mind even though David won’t change his— sending the letter is proof of that. I bet she’s tired of letting him tell her what to do.”

“She shouldn’t have let him tell her a stupid thing like that in the first place!” Max snaps. 

Will sighs sadly. “If my father ever wrote to me I think I’d write him back.”

“Ouch. You do not play fair, man,” Eddie teases, throwing an arm around Will’s shoulders. “That was a low blow and you know it.” Will just leans against him and sighs again, so Eddie shuts up and pulls him a little closer. The kid’s only trying to help. 

“What could it hurt to just find out? Find out what happened that changed her mind, and what she wants to do about it,” Steve suggests. “You don’t have to do anything after that if you don’t want to, dude. Nobody’s saying you have to be her best friend. But maybe… maybe it’ll help you.”

“Maybe she wants to put you in her will or something.” Lucas brightens. “You could be heir to a fortune.”

“I seriously doubt that,” laughs Eddie, “but I’ll take it if she’s offering.” He allows himself a split second to imagine buying a house for Wayne before shaking it off. No fucking way he’s heir to anything, unless it’s something bad. Munsons only inherit shit like addictions and stupidity. 

“So are we doing this? Yeah? Shit, yeah!” Dustin bounces happily to his feet. “Shit shit shit shit shit! When do we start, how do we execute Operation Grandmother?” he excitedly asks. 

“I was thinking, maybe we shouldn’t write back to her? In case David gets the letter before she can,” Chrissy explains. “We could call directory assistance and get their phone number. Then we could call her and you could talk to her, or even see if she’d want to meet up with you in person.”

“If she does, we have got to get you some new clothes,” Steve mutters. 

Erica rolls her eyes, while Max and Robin exchange a look. “Are you sure about this, Eddie?” Robin says hesitantly. “Do you really wanna do this?”

“Honestly? No, I’m not sure I want to… but I sort of feel like I ought to, if that makes sense. Like I have to.”

No more running. He promised. 

INTERLUDE: MAX MAYFIELD

Max practically drags Robin inside on the pretense of getting more snacks. “Are we the only ones here who aren’t crazy?” she hisses. “Us and the middle schooler. I thought Steve and Dustin were supposed to be so smart, but apparently a 12 year old is smarter? What the hell are they all thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Robin actually looks like she might cry. “They’re all acting like it’s some happy fairy-tale shit, but, like, can you think of any way this could possibly turn out good? ‘Cause I don’t think I can. And how many more crazy things can Eddie handle before he completely loses it? Let’s be honest here, he’s kind of always halfway to losing it lately anyway. This might be— you know, the straw? What do they say about the straw? The camel’s last straw.”

“Straw that broke the camel’s back,” Max grimly agrees. “I hate this. He’s never met this woman in his life. He doesn’t owe her anything.” She grits her teeth. “Who does she think she is just turning up out of nowhere like this? She ignored him when he was a little kid who needed her and now that he’s grown up she decides she’s ready to be World’s Greatest Granny? It’s bullshit. She must want something big. I swear to god if she asks him to be a fucking kidney donor or something…”

“Chrissy won’t let that happen.” Robin bites her lip uncertainly. “Will she? I mean she is awfully nice. If this grandmother comes at her with a convincing enough sob story, Chrissy might fall for it.”

“No, she won’t. She’d fall for it if anybody wanted something from her, but she’s always super protective of Eddie.”

“So are you,” Robin points out, and indeed, Max realizes she’s been clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug indentations into her palms. “Maybe if he meets her, you can go with him.”

“I wish I could,” Max says unhappily. 

END INTERLUDE

In the end, it’s surprisingly easy to arrange.

Directory assistance provides the Parkers’ phone number in a matter of minutes. Eddie tries repeatedly for several days to muster up the courage to call, but his nerve always fails him at the last second. Finally he begs Chrissy to do it for him. He doesn’t think that necessarily counts as running. 

She calls, and immediately gets through to Joan Parker. 

Joan is delighted to hear from her, once she learns who Chrissy is. Joan can’t stop thanking her for reaching out. 

Joan would love to meet them. 

Joan says she can’t wait. 

Chapter Text

on the day the wall came down
the ship of fools had finally run aground
promises lit up the night
like paper doves in flight
-pink floyd, “a great day for freedom”

Most of the time, Eddie doesn’t mind being himself. The way he looks reflects who he is and what he likes, and he’s okay with that. But ever since the Upside Down there’s been a tiny part of him that is more than willing to let the “mean and scary” reputation go, a part that doesn’t want anyone to be afraid of him anymore. 

It’s that tiny part that takes over and says yes when Steve says “we’re going shopping, dingus” and orders him to buy new jeans and sneakers. It’s that part that borrows a plain long-sleeved tee and a belt with an unadorned buckle from Wayne. It’s that part that sits still while Chrissy combs his hair out of his face and ties it neatly into a ponytail, while she swaps out his three chunky rings for modest bands of onyx and etched silver, while she detaches the chain from his wallet. 

He’s a sellout, sure. But he just really fucking doesn’t want Joan Parker to be afraid of him. 

It’s honestly bad enough that he’s terrified she’ll hate him as soon as he starts talking. That she’ll say he’s just like his father. The least he can do is try not to give her a heart attack the moment she sees him, right?

“You look very handsome,” Chrissy assures him, still fussing with his hair. She smoothed it out the best she could, but a few stray curls are already springing free to fall over his forehead again. “I know you hate your outfit, but it looks good on you.”

“I don’t exactly hate it.” Eddie examines his forest green shirt. “It’s comfortable at least, just really boring. But I should probably try to make a decent first impression before breaking out the skulls and tatties, huh?” He sighs. “Just call me Bland Generic Edward.”

“Oh, stop it. You look great. And you’re still metal as hell on the inside, where it really counts.” Chrissy looks adorably proud of herself when that makes him laugh. She pulls his face down to hers for a kiss. “You ready to do this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He takes her hand. “Let’s go meet Joan Parker.”

Joan Parker is just as nervous as Eddie; maybe even more so. She starts crying as soon as she sees him. He goes full on awkward and tongue-tied. It’s Chrissy, bless her, who gets them both maneuvered into their booth at the little diner Joan chose for their meeting place. Chrissy chatters blithely about their pleasant drive and the weather in Hawkins, gradually easing them into light conversation, until Joan composes herself. 

“You look so much like your mother,” she tells Eddie. “I brought a few pictures to show you. I don’t have many, my husband… isn’t one for keepsakes, really. But I managed to save a few special ones, and I made copies for you.” She takes an envelope of photos from her purse, and Chrissy pulls them out one by one to exclaim over each one and ask for the story behind it. 

First there’s a tenth grade yearbook photo, the final school picture taken before his mom dropped out. 16 year old Judy Parker’s hair is poker straight, but it’s the same deep rich brown as Eddie’s. He has her eyes, those same large and impossibly expressive eyes framed with the same long lashes. He has her wide, toothy smile too, dimples and all. In the photo she looks happy and a bit mischievous and very, very young. 

Eddie lets out a shaky sigh. “Mommy,” he whispers. “She was so pretty. I forgot how pretty she was.”

Joan smiles sadly. “She was, wasn’t she? You remind me so much of her, it’s uncanny.”

A second photo shows the girl— Eddie can’t even think of her as a young woman, she is so clearly still a girl— in a hospital bed. She’s Judy Munson now, with a bright gold ring to prove it, looking exhausted but wearing a triumphant grin and holding a tiny blanket-swaddled baby. “Aww, look, it’s you!” Chrissy giggles. “Little baby Eddie! How cute!”

“Oh, he was a peanut,” Joan says fondly. “Only six pounds.” He has no idea why that makes him blush. 

A third photo. Judy sits cross-legged on a beige carpet in front of a small and somewhat scraggly decorated tree. Her red sweater has a big snowman on the front; her hair falls nearly to her waist. She’s gazing, enraptured, at baby Eddie lying on a blanket next to her, one chubby fist tightly clutching her index finger, his entire face absolutely lit up with a huge toothless grin. Chrissy practically swoons. “First Christmas,” Joan murmurs. 

In the fourth picture, Judy stands on the front porch of a blue house with white window boxes. She’s holding Eddie on one hip and dangling a shiny key from her other hand with a gleeful expression. Tiny Eddie looks preoccupied with trying to remove the silly sun hat on his head. They all chuckle at that. 

“That was the day you all moved from an apartment to your first house,” Joan recalls. Eddie’s starting to wonder how she knows all of this, if she wasn’t allowed to be around. Was Judy secretly keeping in touch with her mother?

The last picture shows Eddie sitting on Joan’s lap, all wide eyes and unruly curls. His expression is serious, staring up at her; full lips slightly pouted, brown eyes huge in his little round face. 

“That was your second birthday.” Joan’s eyes fill with tears again. “It was the first time I ever saw you in person. The first time I ever held my grandson.”

A hundred questions whirl through Eddie’s brain, but all he can manage to say is “I don’t understand.”

And Joan doesn’t get a chance to explain. 

An irate man has stormed into the diner, anger radiating from every inch of his frame. He snaps something at the waitress behind the counter, and she points directly at their table. Before Joan can even turn around to confirm Eddie knows this has to be David. Grandpa Dictator. 

Were they actually ratted out by a spy? Eddie could almost laugh. Spies in the diner. Holy fuck, this town is worse than Hawkins. 

Chrissy hastily gathers the photos and tucks them into her purse a second before David arrives at their table. 

“What is this?” he demands in a tight, imperious voice. Joan immediately begins to stammer out an explanation, but David doesn’t bother to listen. He glares furiously at Eddie. “You’re that Munson bastard. How dare you show your face around here.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but David isn’t finished. “Your degenerate father wasn’t welcome around here and neither are you. The moment Judy ran off with that scum she was dead to me. She’s no longer any daughter of mine. So you,” he positively sneers, “are nothing to us either.”

“To us?” Eddie snaps back, jumping to his feet. He can sneer too. Fuck it, bring on the mean and scary. “Funny, I didn’t hear Joan saying I was nothing to her.” He oh so casually pushes his sleeves up to show off his bat markings; tattoos on one arm, Upside Down scars on the other. Sure enough, David’s eyes widen when he spots them. Eddie smirks, leans in close. “You always speak for everyone around you, shithead?”

David’s face goes purple with rage. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of here now, you little punk!”

“Or what? What are you gonna do, old man? If I’m nothing to you, then you can’t possibly do anything to me. And I don’t give a shit what you think of me.” Eddie shrugs. He can feel his hands shaking, adrenaline and fury coursing through him. He clenches them into fists, turning to Joan. “I get it now. He’s the reason she ran in the first place, isn’t he? My mother. She ran to my father to get away from him, not you. And when I was seven and she called you crying, asking, begging, to come back home, he was the one who said no. Not you. Wasn’t he.” 

Joan nods through her sobs. Eddie turns back to David again. “She would’ve come back if you’d let her, and she would’ve been safe, she would still be here. I’d still have her. But you just couldn’t swallow your pride, could you? Your shitty pride was more important to you than your own daughter. Well congratu-fuckin-lations. You killed her just as much as Tony did, you stupid asshole.”

The entire eavesdropping restaurant gasps at that. 

David slams his fists down on the table. “How dare you!” he screeches, nearly apoplectic. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

“But you aren’t completely innocent, either, are you?” Eddie continues relentlessly, whipping back to face Joan. She’s shrunken into herself, unable to even meet his eyes. His voice drips acid. “I mean, I get it, clearly this man is a power-tripping fuckwit. But did you even try? Did you even try to defend my mom? You even let him get rid of her pictures. I mean, what the hell?” She can’t look at him. Won’t look at him. 

David, taking advantage of catching Eddie unaware, backhands him hard across the mouth. “Don’t you ever come back here, trash, you hear me?”

“Come back here?” Eddie laughs maniacally into all the shamelessly staring faces. He licks blood from his lower lip and spits at David. “Yeah, no fuckin worries, old man. I have no desire to ever come back to this shithole.”

Chrissy is beside him, arm linked with his, but Joan still won’t even acknowledge him. 

He didn’t expect that to hurt as badly as it does. 

“There is nothing for me here.”

He storms out. 

There was no choice. He had no choice but to run; he’d undoubtedly have done something stupid if he hadn’t, like get arrested for beating the shit out of David Parker. He can’t do that to Chrissy, or Wayne. So he runs away. 

Oh, but there is shame in it this time. 

INTERLUDE: WAYNE MUNSON

He knows the kids will call him at some point, but Wayne isn’t expecting to hear from them until later that night. Possibly even the next morning, depending on how well things go. Chrissy had booked them a motel room in case they wanted to extend their visit. 

So he’s a little distracted when he answers the ringing phone in the early afternoon, fumbling with his cigarette lighter. “Yeah.” He tunes in with half an ear, ready to hang up if it’s a sales pitch. 

But a small anguished voice choking out “Papa?” immediately gets his full attention. 

“Ed! What happened? You alright?”

A heartwrenching sob is his only answer. 

Wayne sighs. He was so afraid this would be the outcome, but he’d foolishly dared to get his hopes up. He really should’ve known better. “Aww, darlin’, what’d they do to you?” he says softly. Damn those Parkers. He could strangle them both with his bare hands, honestly he could. How dare they treat his sweet boy badly. How dare they let him down again. 

Eddie is gasping for breath, making little high-pitched keening noises. “Eddie. Take it easy, now. Breathe for me, huh? Take a deep breath, that’s my good boy. You’ll be alright. Whatever happened, it’ll be alright, we’ll take care of it. C’mon, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, darlin’.” He angrily swipes a tear from his own cheek. “Listen to me, Ed, I love you more’n anythin’ else. Whatever they did or said to you, it don’t mean anythin’ here. I love you, you’re my son and you belong here with me. Okay, baby? You’ll always belong here. I’ll always want you here.”

His broken-hearted boy continues sobbing, quietly, helplessly. It breaks Wayne’s heart, too. “Ed, put Chrissy on the phone, will ya? I’m’a tell her to bring you on home now. You just hang in there, darlin’, okay? I’ll be right here when you get home.”

END INTERLUDE

Eddie fully expects Max to say I told you so. He’ll let her, too, without complaining. She earned it. She did try to warn him, she and Robin and even Erica, and they were right. Whatever she wants to say to him, he deserves it. 

She doesn’t say it though. She doesn’t say anything about the disaster that Operation Grandmother turned out to be. She just… sticks around. 

She came over shortly after he and Chrissy got home (and after he’d spent a mortifying amount of time slumped on the floor bawling into Wayne’s lap; ever since the Upside Down he’s become a huge crybaby which, despite what his therapist says, is actually really humiliating). Max showed up with two movies and a plate of brownies, explaining “El told me I needed to be here,” and she didn’t say a word about his puffy red eyes. She and Chrissy sat him down and pressed in close, squishing him on the couch between them, warming him with their comforting presence. Max usually teases him for being way too touchy-feely with her— “you’re so clingy!” she’ll scoff when he hugs her— but that night she sits tucked right up against his side and lets him lean on her. 

“You’re one in a million, Red,” he mumbles into her hair. “Don’t tell Henderson but you’ve always been my favorite.”

“Shut up, nerd.” She loops her arm through his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Go to sleep for awhile, you look like shit.”

He does exactly that, cozy, cuddled between his girlfriend and his sister. 

Max keeps checking on him for the next few days, coming over as soon as he gets home from work, listening to music with him, helping him cook dinner or wash dishes. Eddie knows Chrissy has filled her in on what happened, but unlike everyone else Max never asks him to talk about how he feels about the whole mess, which he appreciates. She gets it, without making him say a word. And she doesn’t tiptoe around him like he might shatter; she just hangs out like they normally would, albeit more often. It’s a relieving change of pace for Eddie, who’s had way more fussing from Dustin, Will, and Mama Bear Steve than he’s comfortable with. 

Max and El are at his place this weekend, in the kitchen with Chrissy, making snickerdoodles and having a gossipy gigglefest while Eddie messes around with his acoustic guitar, trying to work out a tricky bridge for a song he’s almost finished writing. Max is the one who spots the unfamiliar car pulling up outside, and she beats Chrissy to the door when a knock sounds. 

Standing on the porch is a tall blonde woman in jeans and a pink blouse, carrying a large tote bag. “Hi there. Uh, I’m looking for Eddie Munson?” 

“He doesn’t buy stuff from door-to-door salesmen,” Max snarks. Eddie can’t keep a giggle from escaping at her tone. 

“This is the Munsons’ home. Can we help you?” Chrissy, of course, is much more polite. Eddie steps up behind her to get a peek at their unexpected guest, and the woman’s jaw drops the second she sees him. 

“Holy moly. You must be Eddie. You have the same eyes,” she breathes. 

His stomach turns with dread. “Who are you?”

“I— my name’s Ally. Allyson. Eddie, I’m… I’m your aunt.”

Chapter Text

i don't wanna hate you
i don't wanna take you
but i don't wanna be the one to cry
and that don't really matter to anyone, anymore
but like a fool i keep losing my place
and i keep seeing you walk through that door
-don henley/patty smyth, “sometimes love just ain’t enough”

“My aunt?”

They’re all staring at him. Eddie can’t make his brain form a single coherent thought. 

“You don’t remember me?” Allyson lets out a nervous sounding giggle. “Um, well I guess that makes sense, you were only five years old last time I saw you, but I thought you might…” she trails off awkwardly. “Oh! I probably look a little different too, I was 14 then, but… sorry. I guess I really thought you might remember.”

This is too much. Bright sparks swim at the edges of Eddie’s vision; he’s fairly certain he’s about to throw up. “Could… could you excuse me for a minute?” He swallows hard. “You can come in, but just— I just need a minute. Just wait a minute.” He rushes to the bathroom. 

After, he brushes his teeth and splashes cold water on his face. Grips the edge of the sink with both hands. Tries to catch his breath. This is too much. Too much. 

He tries to run through the grounding exercise his therapist taught him, but he can’t remember how it goes. Is it five things he can hear, or feel? The only thing he can feel is his heart thumping painfully against his chest, pulse pounding in his scars. Darkness is closing in. 

Before it swallows him completely he fumbles for the doorknob, manages to weakly tug the door open. Tries to call out. Fails. 

He faintly hears El say, “Chrissy? Eddie needs you.”

He resurfaces to the feeling of two small hands gently stroking his face. 

“Come back to me, sweet angel. I’m here. I’m right here with you. Come back to me.”

Eddie blinks, eyes refocusing. He’s sitting on the bathroom floor, back against the tub, Chrissy kneeling in front of him. She gently tilts his face up to look into his eyes. “There you are,” she says with a soft smile. “Hi, my love.”

“Hi,” he croaks. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Are the girls all right?” He sighs with relief at her reassuring nod. Takes a deep breath. “Um, is she still here?”

Chrissy nods. “Do you want to talk to her? You don’t have to. Max is more than ready to throw her out, if you want her to.”

He smiles a little. “I bet. No, I’ll try to talk to her. But… stay with me?”

“Always.” She helps him up, and they go back to the living room together. 

Allyson is perched on the edge of Wayne’s recliner. Max and El are staring at her in silence. El wide eyed with wonder, looking lost in thought; Max glowering, suspicion palpable. 

“What is aunt?” El asks suddenly. 

Allyson seems surprisingly unfazed by the odd question. “Aunt is a woman who’s a sibling to one of your parents. Eddie’s mom was my sister.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I live in Keyport, about two hours from here.”

“Why don’t you ever come visit?”

“Sweetie,” Chrissy starts to protest, but Allyson shakes her head. “It’s okay. I actually didn’t know where Eddie lived until yesterday. When he moved away to live here, I didn’t know how to find him.”

“Before we continue this interrogation,” Chrissy interjects, “let’s at least introduce ourselves properly, shall we? I’m Chrissy, Eddie’s girlfriend. These are our good friends, Jane and Max. Well, my friends; they’re more like sisters to Eddie. His father, Wayne, won’t be home until later tonight.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Allyson says with a smile. “I’m Allyson DeMarco, but you can call me Ally. Eddie’s mom Judy was my older sister, seven years older than me. I was nine when Eddie was born. He was the cutest little thing I’d ever seen.” She grins. “Judy used to tease me because I’d always ask if I could keep him, like he was a puppy I found.”

El giggles at that, but Max’s stony expression doesn’t change. Ally’s smile fades, and she gulps audibly. 

“So… I don’t really know where you want me to start? Do you have more questions you want to ask me?” She seems to address that to Chrissy. Eddie can’t quite look at her directly, so he isn’t sure who she’s facing. 

“I have questions,” Max says sharply. “Where have you been all this time, and why are you here now?”

“Honey, don’t be rude,” Chrissy whispers, but Ally shakes her head. “No, really, it’s okay. I get it. You can ask me whatever you want, honest. Where have I been— well, like I said, I was only 14 the last time I saw Eddie. His dad was, um. How can I put this? His dad was struggling with some, um, substance abuse issues. And my sister thought it would be, um, wiser…”

“Come on. No bullshit. We can handle it. Just say what you mean.” Max gives her a challenging look. 

“Right. Okay. No bullshit.” Ally claps her hands. “Tony’s issues kept getting worse, and my sister didn’t think it was safe anymore for me to be around him when he was drunk or drugged up. Which, after awhile, was basically all the time. So I stopped going over to her house. We kept in touch with secret letters and phone calls, but I never got to see her again.” 

She pauses. “Could I have a glass of water?” Chrissy rushes to get it, bringing back a glass for Eddie too. “Still okay?” she murmurs as she hands it to him, and he gives her a grateful nod. 

Ally takes a long sip, then continues. “I was 17 when my sister died. I’d just started my senior year, so of course I was still living with my parents. I asked them what would happen to Eddie, and my dad said he was going to live with relatives and to forget about him. I asked who, because I didn’t want to forget, I wanted to write to him. My dad—“ She gives a breathy little laugh. “He’s super controlling, if you haven’t figured that out already. I was punished very, very harshly for asking, so I never asked again.”

She turns to look directly at Max. “So that’s where I’ve been. I have no excuses. I finished high school and went to college and went on with my life and I tried to forget about my nephew because my dad told me to. I didn’t know where he lived or who he lived with and I never asked. And I feel horribly ashamed about that, but my feelings can’t change the past, so I don’t even know how much it would mean to you to hear me apologize. But I will anyway, because I am so, so sorry.”

El whispers something to Max that Eddie can’t quite catch. It almost sounds like “she is good.” For the first time, Max’s face softens. “Okay,” she says quietly. Perhaps even with a hint of respect. “Thanks for being honest.”

“You’re welcome. And you asked me why am I here now? Well, I went over to visit my mom yesterday, and while we were downtown having lunch, about nine different people stopped by our table to casually inquire if I’d heard that my nephew came to town last week and made a huge scene with my father. So finally I said mom, what the heck, why am I hearing this from everybody but you? She wouldn’t tell me anything about it except that she had written to Eddie. So I demanded the address, and here I am.”

“It was your father who made the huge scene, by the way,” Chrissy says matter-of-factly. She lifts Eddie’s hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “We were enjoying a lovely chat with Joan, weren’t we, angel? Until he came in and ruined everything.”

Ally groans. “Why does that not surprise me. He’s such a jerk. Let’s try not to talk too much about him if we can help it.” She glances around the room, eyes lighting on the guitar. “Eddie, is that yours? You play?”

He manages a nod. 

“He plays in a band,” El says proudly. “Their songs are loud and scary but they play very good and Eddie is the best one.” Ally laughs at that, looking pleased. “I’m actually a music teacher! And I do piano lessons, so if your band ever needs some keyboards, let me know,” she offers. 

He’s being such an idiot, but all he can do is stare at her. He wishes he could remember her from when he was little. She doesn’t look much like his mother at all, except for dimples when she smiles. He’s stupidly speechless. Jesus, get it together, Munson. His mouth opens, and closes again. Really making a great impression here.

But Ally seems remarkably untroubled by his silence. “Oh! I brought a photo album! Eddie, want to see?” She moves to sit next to him, pulling a gigantic album from her tote bag. “Judy gave me this for safekeeping. She used to mail me things all the time to add to it, so there’s tons of stuff in here.” She eagerly opens to the first page, where there’s a snapshot of tiny newborn Eddie in his mother’s arms, his father beaming proudly behind them. Tucked into the slot next to it is an index card covered in large loopy handwriting. 

Edward Anthony Munson
Tuesday 10/18/66 9:21 am
6 lbs 2 oz 17 inches
Today our family is complete. 
Happiest day of my life!

Those last five words are Eddie’s undoing. Ally and the girls continue examining the album, talking and laughing around and over him, while he sits numbly staring at his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks. Jesus H. Christ, he’s such an idiot. At least his aunt is kind enough to pretend she doesn’t notice. 

INTERLUDE: CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

The photo album is the cutest thing Chrissy’s ever seen. It’s so much more than pictures; it’s almost a novel, brimming with those handwritten index cards, Judy’s captions and dates and stories about Eddie bringing everything to life. One card even has a few chocolate colored curls taped to it, underneath the words First haircut! The dates span nearly eight years, from Eddie’s birth to his first day of third grade. Chrissy absolutely loves Ally for saving it, for treasuring it, keeping it safe from Tony who apparently liked to trash his wife’s belongings when he was drunk. And she doesn’t think she’s biased when she says that Eddie was by far the most adorable baby in the world. 

She likes Ally, liked her immediately; but she knows part of it is because she feels such a strong kinship with her. Chrissy understands exactly what it’s like to be kept under the thumb of a parent who swears they’re doing what’s best for you even as they’re destroying your life. What it’s like to have your every goal, every move, every thought decided for you. She remembers all too well how it feels to believe, not to know; like the apologue of the frog in slowly simmering water, she couldn’t see the danger even as the temperature rose. She knows how she would’ve ended up if Eddie hadn’t come into her life when he did. Grown but still dependent, constantly and desperately seeking the love that should’ve been inherent, the approval that could never be earned. Would never be freely given. 

(That was the direction her life was headed before Vecna, anyway. And she wouldn’t have survived him without Eddie, either. One way or another she would’ve ended up an empty broken husk of a person.)

So she can empathize with Ally, and she hopes they’ll stay in touch because she really wants to hear Ally’s story, when and how she finally broke free. Chrissy even trusts her, because she knows exactly where Ally’s coming from. 

She just hopes trusting Ally will turn out better than trusting Joan did.

END INTERLUDE

Eddie feels much better once his father comes home. Wayne is polite to Ally but a little standoffish, keeping a safe distance. Even after she charms him by giving him the photo album— “you’re his dad, sir, so really this belongs to you”— it’s clear he has his guard up. Oddly, that makes Eddie feel safe enough that he’s finally able to relax and join the conversation. He even plays a few songs on the guitar when Ally begs him. She has a lovely singing voice. 

Before she leaves, Ally pulls a Polaroid camera out of her bag and asks if she can take some pictures of them for her own photo album. Eddie poses with Wayne, with Chrissy, with Max and El, with all of them together, and then Chrissy takes one of Eddie and Ally. 

“Take another,” she insists, “so we can each keep one.” He surprises himself with the thought that yes, he actually would like to keep a memento from this day. 

“So, Eddie,” Ally says after she’s carefully labeled and dated her little stack of Polaroids. “I have a few people waiting for me at home who I can’t wait to show these to, and I know they’re super excited to meet you.” She grins at him with his mother’s wide dimpled smile. “How do you feel about meeting your uncle and cousins?”

Chapter Text

i was down my dreams were wearing thin
when you're lost where do you begin
my heart always seemed to drift from day to day
looking for the love that never came my way
-air supply, “two less lonely people in the world”

This time he won’t budge; he’s not changing his hair or his clothes. Ally’s already seen his standard metalhead regalia and she still invited him to meet her kids. He plans to show them Eddie, not boring-ass Edward with the sensible shoes and the long sleeves hiding his tats. Eddie is as good as it gets now. 

He does wear the new rings Chrissy gave him, though. But only because he likes to fidget with the etched patterns, they feel nice under his fingertips. It has nothing to do with whether or not the old ones are scary looking. Nothing at all. 

And they’re taking Chrissy’s car because the van needs a tuneup. No other reason. If the van has a lingering weed smell, and he doesn’t want to show up with that smell clinging to his clothes, well that’s just because he doesn’t want Ally’s kids— his cousins, shit— to ask too many questions. That’s all. 

Eddie, his therapist’s voice scolds him in his head, are you being honest with yourself right now?

“No,” he admits out loud. “As usual, I’m fuckin terrified.”

Chrissy glances worriedly at him. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Yeah, ‘cause, apparently that’s what I do now. I’m freaking out here, sweetness. I dunno if I can do this.” Eddie presses the heels of his hands against his eyes for a minute. “This was maybe a bad idea.”

“Eddie, my love,” Chrissy says tenderly, her voice so affectionate that his breath catches in his throat. “What is it you always say to me before I talk to my mother?”

“Um… she’s a heinous bitch?”

Chrissy laughs. “No, that’s afterwards. Before.”

“Ah yes.” He puts on his dramatic voice. “But in the end it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines—“

“It’ll shine out the clearer,” she finishes along with him. 

He sighs. “Damn, woman, I love you to death. How’d I ever get so lucky?”

Her dazzling laugh sets off sparklers in his heart and renews his courage. He can definitely handle this with Chrissy by his side. 

Charlie DeMarco, Ally’s husband, has a scruffy goatee, honey-brown hair almost as long as Argyle’s, a huge 2112 Starman tattooed on his left bicep and Dark Side of the Moon prism on the right. His ears and nose are pierced. He owns a motorcycle. 

He might be the coolest guy Eddie’s ever seen. 

Chrissy absolutely loses it the moment she sets eyes on him. She can’t stop giggling. “Oh my god, Eddie was— he was so afraid he wouldn’t make a good impression,” she splutters to Ally. “You should’ve told us we had nothing to worry about! Oh my god, they should put his picture in the dictionary under the word ‘nonconformist’! Look at his nose ring!”

Charlie laughs, too. “I knew I’d like you crazy diamonds,” he says. “You guys want beer or smokes or what?”

Ally smacks his arm. “Babe, none of that til the kids go to bed!”

“Oh, right, right.” Charlie nods sagely. “Can’t corrupt my progeny.” Eddie already loves this guy. “Speaking of, you ready to meet the rugrats?”

“You know it.” 

Joey, age 9, is a skinny little tornado of spirit. He immediately grabs their hands and takes them on a tour, wanting to show them everything; his room, his Nintendo, his bike, his treehouse. He’s also full of questions. How old is Eddie? Are he and Chrissy married? Who does he like better, Batman or Superman? Did he bring his guitar? Can he teach Joey to play guitar sometime? Is he a famous rockstar? Is he coming to live with them? “We have an extra room, but you can share mine if you want!” he says happily. “I think it would be so cool if we shared.” Eddie answers everything, talking and laughing easily, loving the kid’s energy. Joey reminds him a little of himself at that age, but a happier, much more well-adjusted version. The one thing he doesn’t ask (that Eddie was afraid he would) is why they’ve never met before; he seems beyond thrilled to have a brand new cousin just show up out of nowhere, ready to play with him. Eddie wonders what he’d think of D&D, if it’s too early to introduce him. He’ll ask Charlie’s opinion later. He already knows Henderson would get a kick out of Joey. 

Katie, a tiny 6 year old with blond pigtails, is as quiet as Joey is loud. In fact, Eddie doesn’t think he’s heard her say a single word as she’s tagged along after them. So while Chrissy is attempting to teach Joey how to somersault, Eddie sits down in the grass next to the little girl. 

“Man,” he says to her, “your brother never stops, huh?” She giggles and shakes her head no. She’s got dimples, too. 

“What about you? We’ve seen all of Joey’s favorite stuff. What do you like to do?” Katie holds up one little finger, wait a minute, and dashes inside. She returns with a stuffed tiger and a coloring book, plopping the tiger into Eddie’s hands. 

“Hey, very cool. Does he have a name?” She indicates a collar around the tiger’s neck, and Eddie lifts it up to see. “Oh, Hobbes! Nice! You clearly have excellent taste, my lady.” Katie giggles again, and Eddie grins at her. Apparently she’s not a talker, but it doesn’t bother him. She communicates just fine, and he talks enough for both of them anyway. “Can I see your book, too?”

She hands him the book, and as he flips through admiring her pictures, she sneaks one little hand out to touch the bats on his forearm. “Ah,” he says, “you like? It’s a tattoo, like your dad’s. Pretty metal, huh?” She smiles and nods. Then touches it again and points to herself. Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You want one?” She nods again, enthusiastically. He laughs. “Hey, why not. You got a pen, or a marker?”

She runs inside again, coming back with a box of Crayola markers. He nods approvingly. “Okay, cool. What do you want? You want bats like mine, or something else?” Katie thinks a moment, then points to Hobbes. “A tiger?” She nods, pigtails swinging. Eddie opens the back cover of her coloring book and does a quick sketch of a cartoon tiger napping in a treehouse with his paws hanging over the edge of the platform. Then another one, pouncing on a flower. One more, on his back with his fluffy belly showing. He holds them out for Katie to see. “One of these, or something else?” She points to the pouncing tiger, then taps her finger three times on the flower. “More flowers?” Eddie guesses. She nods happily. 

Katie crawls into his lap and Eddie draws an entire field of colorful flowers on her tiny arm, then adds not only the pouncing tiger but a few butterflies and one black bat. “So we can match,” he tells her, and she giggles again. She touches a butterfly, then taps his arm. Without hesitating he draws a kaleidoscope of butterflies all around his bats. They’re all a little wonky since he’s working left-handed, but they’re good enough. He grins, holding out his arm for Katie to examine, and she smiles up at him and holds her arm out next to his. 

The click of a camera startles him into looking up. Charlie has just snapped a picture of them admiring their artwork. Ally is gazing fondly at them, beaming, but wiping away a few tears too. 

“I’ve never seen her take to anyone so quickly,” Ally explains quietly to Eddie as Katie rushes to her dad to show off her arm. “She’s so shy, and she almost always gets overlooked since she doesn’t talk. Usually she’s afraid of new people, but she liked you right away. Thank you for being so kind to her. I knew you were special, Eddie.”

His aunt throws her arms around him, and Eddie has to blink back a few tears of his own. 

INTERLUDE: JOAN PARKER

She’s never begrudged her daughter anything, honest. Parents are supposed to want better things, better lives for their children than the ones they’ve had themselves. Of course Ally’s happiness is important to her. Judy’s was, too. If that means Ally rarely visits and only calls once or twice a month, then she can accept that. Ally took a big risk to be her lifeline to Judy all those years ago. Joan owes her for that, among other things. 

But when Ally calls just to tell her what a pleasant weekend she spent with Eddie and Chrissy, Joan feels a sharp stab of pure envy she was completely unprepared for. 

“Mom,” Ally says gently. “You’re gonna need to tell me the whole story. What made you find Eddie after all these years? Don’t tell me it was just to send a sympathy card, we both know how you felt about Tony. You wrote to Eddie for some other reason. And then after you went to all that effort, why did you let Dad chase him away?”

Joan can tell the story, and she can answer at least the first question honestly. The second she can’t think about, so she fits it neatly into a box and files it away under verboten. There’s too much in that box to ever try to unpack. This is the way it is; the way it has been and will continue to be. 

“Mom, don’t be ridiculous. If you want to talk to him again, just do it there, so Dad won’t find out. He won’t hear about it from anyone if you’re not in town. Do what I did and just go there. Forest Hills is easy to find.”

Ally makes it sound so simple. Just go there. He won’t hear about it. Do what I did. 

Can she still try to fix this? David derailed her plan so badly last time, and she knows she hurt Eddie by keeping quiet while David said all those awful things to him. Can she be brave enough, after a lifetime of backing down, of following expectations, to just go? She decides she has to try. If she does it by herself, she might be able to get it right this time. 

She may not get another chance. 

END INTERLUDE

When there’s a knock at the trailer door Eddie answers it without even checking who it is first. Will and Dustin are in his kitchen already, trying to weasel campaign details out of him and eating all his potato chips. He’s fully expecting either Mike or Lucas to be standing there when he wrenches the door open. 

It’s Joan. 

“Eddie, can we talk?” she pleads. “There’s something I need to tell you.” 

Chapter Text

there’s no one to take my blame
if they wanted to
there’s nothing to keep me sane
and it’s all the same to you
there’s nowhere to set my aim
so i’m everywhere
never come near me again
do you really think i need you?
-dream theater, “space-dye vest”

“Uh, hi. Talk. Sure. Yeah, we can talk.” Eddie steps back so Joan can come inside. “Uh, my friends are here, let me just…” He glances around. Where to go? He definitely doesn’t want to take Joan into his room, it’s a mess. But he isn’t sure he trusts Will and Dustin to wait in there without snooping through his campaign notes.

Before he can decide, the door opens again. It’s Chrissy, home from a shift at the video store. She’s followed by Steve, El, and Mike. He can only assume Lucas and Max will be right behind them. He looks frantically to Chrissy. As much as Eddie loves his friends, he doesn’t want anybody here right now for whatever it is his grandmother claims she needs to tell him. There are way too many people in this little trailer, and they’re all too loud. 

Joan looks sort of stunned. Not in a good way. She’s gazing around with a strange pinched expression on her face, taking in the small room with its odd decor, the hats and mugs, the photos on the bookcase, the diploma Wayne had proudly framed and hung on the wall. Eddie’s skin crawls under her scrutiny. He wishes Wayne was home. 

“You only graduated last year?” she says faintly. “I thought you— aren’t you about to turn 21?”

Okay, what the actual fuck, that was not how he saw this conversation starting. Over her shoulder, he sees El turn to glare at Joan. 

“Mrs. Parker!” Suddenly Chrissy is stepping in front of him, taking Joan’s arm, leading her to the door. “How lovely to see you again! We weren’t expecting you, these are Eddie’s friends, but you don’t want all of us in your hair! Why don’t you two sit outside?” She’s managed to deftly steer Joan out the front door, down the steps and over to the ancient couch at the front of the trailer. “I’ll bring out some lemonade for you and you can have a nice quiet chat out here. Be right back!”

There’s a loud shriek and a wall-rattling thump from inside. It’s just Steve and Dustin horsing around, but Joan jumps as if she’s heard someone being murdered. He sighs. Of course she’d be that type. In her mind there’s probably a murder committed every ten minutes somewhere on this side of the tracks. Eddie clears his throat. He’s already on edge from the way she looked down her nose at Wayne’s things, and he’s in no mood to take any shit. “So. Gotta say I didn’t expect I’d ever see you again. You have a nice drive over?” 

“Oh yes,” she says, as if she hadn’t heard his sarcasm. Joan glances over at Lucas and Max, heading their way from Max’s place. Eddie gestures at them to go ahead inside. “Yes, it was an easy drive, but… Have you always lived here? It’s awfully close, isn’t it? All these neighbors, and everyone so close together in these little… units. You know, Forest Hills is such a lovely name, I was really expecting…”

“Something nicer than a rundown trailer park?” Eddie says bluntly. “Yeah, well. I grew up happier in this shitty trailer than my mother did in your fancy house, because Wayne actually loves me. And you didn’t exactly give me a choice about where to live anyway, huh? I’m lucky to be here.”

They stare at each other for a moment. 

“And yes, I did just graduate last year. Took me three tries. I had a lot of trouble in school because I have ADD and I didn’t know it. Sorry if that doesn’t fit your worldview either. It never bothered Wayne. He’s proud that I kept trying.”

It’s awfully quiet inside. Eddie has a feeling his friends are clustered at the open window, listening, but he’s too angry now to keep his voice from rising. 

“Anything else you wanna criticize while you’re here? There’s my van, it’s a piece of shit too, wanna judge that? Wanna point at the laundry on the clothesline? Wanna make fun of my bedroom window ‘cause it doesn’t close all the way? How about—“

Two hands are on Eddie’s shoulders, gently pushing him back down into his seat. El and Max. 

Joan is staring at him, hands pressed to her mouth, eyes wide and filled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Are you finished here?” Max’s voice is low and venomous. 

“No, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— we just started out on the wrong foot here. I didn’t mean to make you feel inferior.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how it always goes, isn’t it?” Eddie says bitterly. “No matter what we do, the Munsons always end up inferior to people like you.”

INTERLUDE: EL HOPPER

El does not need to use her powers to know that Eddie is upset. Everyone in the room can tell. They can all hear the mean things his grandmother says. If this is how a grandmother acts, El is glad she never had one. 

But something sharper is tickling the edge of her mind, something she needs to close her eyes and focus on. This power is still pretty new. Dr. Owens gave it a technical name, something like telepathic empathy transference, but she likes the name Max says better. Max calls it her spidey sense. 

Right now something is tingling her spidey sense about Eddie. She closes her eyes and zeroes in. 
shame 
anger 
pride 
sorrow 
bitterness anger shame
shame 
anger!
anger bitterness despair 
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair

She opens her eyes with a gasp. 

“Max. Come on.”

El is completely willing to hurt this mouthbreather of a grandmother if she has to. If Eddie needs her to. 

She steps outside, Max right behind her. 

END INTERLUDE

“Eddie, is she bad?” El says urgently. “Is she bad like Papa was?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Eddie’s fists flex involuntarily, his left leg bounces. He really needs a cigarette. “Maybe not? I don’t know.”

Max, jaw set and eyes narrowed, steps closer to Joan Parker. “I think you should leave now.” She cracks her knuckles. 

“No, please!” Joan bursts out. She starts spilling a frenzied rush of words. “I’m sorry, Eddie, I just need to— I’m sick. That’s what I came to tell you. I’m sick. Last time I beat it, but this time we’re not sure. I don’t know how much time I might have. And I— I couldn’t be at peace until I found you. I had to see you again. I need to ask you to forgive me. For letting you go. I had to find you, just in case, to ask you to forgive me.”

Eddie stares at her in silence for what feels like an eternity. 

“So that’s it,” he rasps out at last. “That’s what changed your mind? You don’t even care about me, just like you didn’t care about Mommy, you only want to ease your shitty conscience now so you can die peaceful and happy? Well guess what, I don’t care about you either. So no, you’re not forgiven! Fuck you, you can rot!” He’s on his feet and he’s screaming, harsh and hurting, every word scraping from his constricting throat. “I was just a little kid! Eight years old, what the fuck could I possibly have done to you? But I wasn’t good enough! You threw me out with the trash and you never even looked back once! You think I’ll ever fucking forgive you?”

Steve has crashed through the door, grabbed Eddie from behind, strong arms wrapped around his chest, holding him back from attacking her because he’s trying to, he really wants to, wants to hurt her, wants her to hurt the way he hurts, somewhere Chrissy’s sobbing and he hates Joan for making Chrissy cry, he hates her, hates her, wants to hurt her, Max and El practically shoving Joan away from Eddie, Max right in her face snarling she better not even think about ever showing up here again, El’s face a thundercloud, a hint of blood appearing under her nostril as Joan trips and falls heavily, bangs her head against the side of her car, Mike and Lucas shouting, Will grabbing at his shirt, Dustin jumping up and down in front of him Eddie Eddie Eddie calm down Eddie stop Jesus Christ Eddie he’s straining against Steve’s hold screaming his chest is ripping apart jesus fuck it hurts it hurts he’s screaming he cannot stop screaming he may not ever stop screaming. Over and over and over again. 

“I’ll never forgive you! Never! Never! Never! You can rot! YOU CAN FUCKING ROT IN HELL!”

Joan’s car speeds away in a cloud of dust. 

Eddie drops like a millstone, passing out in Steve’s arms. 

He won’t let anyone into his room. He sits with his back against the door to keep them out. They can’t see him yet. He’s too raw and ugly. Something deep and grim and troubling bled out that he hadn’t anticipated and it’s everywhere and it’s a mess. He needs time to get it all under wraps and put it back. 

Once in a while one or two of them will come and knock, saying they’re still here, they’ll wait, just come out whenever he’s ready. He can’t answer. Can’t speak. The misery is a physical, visceral ache. He can’t even smoke it away; weed crystallized everything sharper and stark instead of dulling it down. He feels, in the most literal sense of the word, heartbroken. Something has ripped apart inside him. The jagged edges pierce his chest and sides and stomach with every breath. 

A gentle tap at the door. 

“Eddie? Honey, it’s Joyce. Will called me, I hope that’s okay. I came right over. I thought maybe you might need me.”

He’s so tired of always needing. 

“Do you want to talk?”

No. Absolutely not. Talking is what got him here in the first place.

“Sweetie, I just really don’t think you should be alone right now. I can make you some tea, or read to you, or… whatever you want, just, can you open the door for me? Can you let me in?”

Whatever he wants? What he wants is impossible. He wants to go back in time and throw Joan Parker’s letter in the trash where it belongs. He wants to stop feeling inferior. He wants his mother. 

“I know I’m not your mom, Eddie,” Joyce says softly, “but maybe I could be a substitute for a little while?”

How—?

He stands, trembling. 

“Sweetheart? Can I come in?”

Eddie begins to cry. 

Joyce opens the door and gathers him into her arms, holding him close. Despite being tiny, she is strong; larger than life when one of her children needs her. Eddie crumbles against her, sobbing, and her tears mingle with his. 

Chapter Text

if a prayer today is spoken
please offer it for me
when the bridge to heaven is broken
and you’re lost on the wild wild sea
-sting, “the wild wild sea”

Ally won’t stop apologizing, no matter how many times Eddie assures her it isn’t her fault. 

“I should’ve asked you before I just suggested she ambush you,” she groans. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I should’ve known something like this would happen.”

“It’s okay,” he says again. Chrissy does this, too; takes on the blame and the guilt for her mother’s actions. He tries to remember what his therapist says about that. “You didn’t know she was gonna come here and judge everything. And you didn’t know what she really wanted, she told you she just wanted to reconcile, not be fuckin absolved. You didn’t know. You’re not responsible for what she does or how she thinks. You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“You sound like my shrink,” Ally giggles. 

“I’m quoting mine!”

She laughs so hard she snorts, and Eddie even manages a chuckle. He should probably call his shrink soon. “We’re a mess,” she says warmly. 

“Yeah, well. It’s actually kinda nice to know the Parkers are just as fucked up as the Munsons.” That sets her off again. 

Finally, when she’s a little calmer, she asks, “You guys are still coming up this weekend, right?”

“Yeah, we’ll head up Friday night. Make sure you have a first aid kit handy, Chrissy says Joey wants her to teach him how to do a backflip.” He twists the phone cord in his fingers. “Um, Ally?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think if we have time, maybe we could go visit my mom?”

“Sure, hon,” she says softly. “We can definitely visit your mom.”

Rosehill Cemetery is beautiful, as cemeteries go. It’s surrounded by trees and fields of flowers. The markers are all clean and kept in good repair, the grounds well maintained. Eddie still hates it, but he guesses it could be a lot worse. He doesn’t even know where his father’s ashes are; at least his mother has a pretty place to rest. 

They stop walking in front of a large, somewhat ostentatious marble headstone.

JUDITH ELAINE PARKER
MAY 28, 1949 - SEPTEMBER 21, 1974
PRECIOUS DAUGHTER, BELOVED SISTER 
GONE TOO SOON BUT LOVED FOR A LIFETIME

The bouquet of zinnias drops from Eddie’s nerveless fingers. 

“This is really her?” he breathes. 

Ally touches his arm. “This is her.”

“But— but it’s wrong!”

Chrissy, who had crouched down to pick up the flowers, straightens up quickly. “What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s all wrong. It says Parker. She married my father, her name was Judy Munson! Munson, same as mine!” Tears are beginning to spill over, whether from anger or grief he isn’t sure. Probably both? He feels like he’s choking. “It says daughter and sister but why doesn’t it say she was my mother? It should say mother, she loved me, why would they just erase me from her life like that? It should say mother!” He’s sobbing, furiously hitting at the stone, blood from his knuckles beginning to streak the marble. 

“Eddie, oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Ally catches his hands in hers. “Honey, stop, you’re hurting yourself. Oh, Eddie. I’m so used to it, I didn’t even think, I should’ve told you what it said before we came. God, I’m really failing you at this aunt thing, huh? I’m sorry, hon. And you’re absolutely right, she loved you guys, you and your dad. Her Munson men. You’re right.”

As she speaks, Ally’s gently leading him away from the grave to a nearby bench, sitting him down, pulling a tissue from her sleeve to wipe away tears from his cheeks. “She loved your dad, she always saw the best in him. She was so proud to be Mrs. Judy Munson. And she loved you, she loved you so much. She told me once she felt like the luckiest person in the world because she got to be your mom. It doesn’t matter what my stupid father put on that gravestone. Judy said being your mom was the best thing she’d ever done with her life.” She smooths his hair back from his face. “You were her little treasure.”

Eddie closes his eyes, swallows hard. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, suddenly exhausted. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown a fit like that. You’re not failing me, I’m being a jerk. I’m sorry, Ally.” 

“No, please, honey, you don’t have to apologize. I understand how you feel. I’m going to talk to Charlie about this, okay? We should at least have Munson added to her stone. Judy would want that. It’s a name she was proud to have, and it should be there for the world to see.”

INTERLUDE: CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

That night in the DeMarco’s guest bedroom Chrissy rests tucked up warm in her favorite position, nestled little-spoon into Eddie, her back against his chest. His right hand rests on her stomach, her fingers idly tracing the stone in the one ring he never takes off, Judy’s ring. 

“You awake, angel?” she whispers. 

“Mm-hmm.”

“Are you okay, after the cemetery?”

He sighs, breath tickling her ear. “Think so, yeah. Glad you were with me.”

“Me too.” He smells so good. “Eddie?”

“What, sweetness.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through such an awful thing with Joan and David, but I’m really glad it brought Ally and Charlie and the kids into your life.” She means it. The more people who love Eddie, the better. Life keeps trying to knock him down, and he needs as many people pulling for him as he can get. He deserves so much better than what he’s had. He deserves to have lots of friends and family in his corner. He deserves the world. 

“Yeah, me too.” His words come slowly. “They’re pretty great.”

“I think so too.” She pulls his arm tighter around her. “Angel?”

He yawns, his chin bumping the top of her head. “Wha’izzit, darlin’?”

“I was thinking. Joan kinda reminds me of my dad, in a way. They’re both… trapped. Stuck with someone who’s basically a tyrant.”

He’s quiet for awhile, but she knows he’s awake because he can’t hold still, his fingers drumming nervously against hers. She can feel his heart racing.

She’s been thinking about the similarity between her dad and Joan since the first day they met her. And between herself and Ally. The ones who got away. Once she’d struggled free of the trap, broken the chains that bound her, it was imperative to leave those pieces where they lay, not drag them along behind her. She wants Eddie to be free, too. 

“You don’t ever have to see her again if you don’t want to. But I think it would be good for you if you could find a way to forgive her. Within yourself. For yourself.” She trails her fingers up and down his arm. “Just for your own healing, and— peace of mind.”

“I dunno, sweetness. Maybe someday I can try that, but right now it’s still just too fuckin— I can’t even think about her yet. Does she even deserve it?”

“It’s not about what she deserves though. It’s for you. What you deserve. So you can leave it behind.”

He sighs. “Baby, please, I don’t wanna talk about this right now. I’m sorry.” His voice wobbles, breaks a little. “Just please don’t make me talk about it.”

She turns in his arms, reaches up to try and kiss away the sadness in his voice. The salt of his tears burns against her lips. “Okay, angel, you don’t have to talk,” she whispers. “Just get some sleep. We’ll figure it out later. I’m not going anywhere.”

END INTERLUDE 

The next morning, the darkness is close, trying to swallow him. 

Eddie has to force himself to get out of bed, to shower and dress. He goes through the motions as best he can; playing with Joey, answering Ally’s cheerful, chatty questions, helping Charlie cook a huge stack of pancakes. But he feels it all around him, sucking at his limbs, weighing on his chest, like he’s wading through molasses. Everything he says feels a half step behind. 

The cheerful chaos of the breakfast table washes over him. Joey’s antics are a fun distraction, but the adults keep sneaking glances at him. Eddie tries to fix his face into a pleasantly neutral expression. He sees Chrissy and Ally exchange a look, and he turns his attention back to his plate, carefully swirling one tine of his fork through a melted chocolate chip. 

Someone tugs his sleeve. Katie is standing next to his chair, holding up her arms to be picked up. Eddie lifts her into his lap and drops a little kiss on the top of her head. “Hey, ladybug, you didn’t eat anything. You’re not hungry?” She shrugs, then taps his chest. 

“Me? Yeah, I’m always hungry. I’ll probably eat eight or nine of these pancakes,” Eddie says lamely, hoping it’ll be enough to make her laugh. It isn’t. She looks pointedly at his untouched plate, then back into his face. She taps his chest again.

“You want me to eat?” he guesses, and she nods. Points to herself. “You’ll eat if I eat?” She nods again, more enthusiastically this time. “Okay. Fair enough,” he agrees. “I’ve got chocolate chip, you wanna share?” She smiles happily and pats his hand. 

Eddie cuts a pancake into small pieces for her, but Katie doesn’t reach for the fork. “What, you’re gonna make me do the airplane thing? Okay then.” He lifts the fork and zooms it toward her, but she won’t open up. “Oh, what, am I supposed to be doing sound effects too? Is this a whole thing for you, ladybug? You won’t eat until I’ve completely debased myself? Fine.” He blows a raspberry. Her entire face lights up with a dimpled grin, and she opens her mouth and accepts the bite. Eddie sighs dramatically. “Whew, got lucky there. I don’t even know what sounds airplanes actually make.” 

A ten ton weight lifts from his chest when he hears her chiming little giggle. 

He takes a bite too, because he told her he would, and continues chattering nonsense to her as he feeds her, embellishing his airplanes with ridiculous sound effects. Together they have a pancake each, and Katie even steals a few bites of his bacon, before she leans back against him and sighs. He gently wipes her face with his napkin and starts in on a second pancake, suddenly ravenous. 

He’s forking up a big piece when he feels their eyes and looks up. Charlie, Ally, and Chrissy are all staring at him. Ally is in tears, and Chrissy looks a little misty eyed as well. 

“What’d I do?” he mumbles, mouth full. 

“Nothing bad, man, it’s just… I didn’t think either of you were gonna eat today. It’s really freakin’ hard to get her to eat when she’s upset… she knew something was wrong and she went right to you and you just…” Charlie wheezes out a laugh that’s almost a sob. “You two. You two. I’m in awe. Completely in awe, man. That was metal,” he says approvingly. 

Chrissy sniffles. “That was the sweetest thing ever. You’re gonna be such a great dad someday!” Holy shit. Eddie can feel his face turning bright red. 

Ally wipes her eyes. “Okay, it’s official. Any opinions expressed by the Parker parents are null and void; here in the DeMarco household, we are card-carrying members of the Eddie Munson Fan Club. Right, guys?”

“Right!” Charlie and Joey shout, and Katie nods and bangs her little fist on the table. Chrissy beams. 

“Eddie,” Ally says, taking his hand, “we’re so glad we found you, so happy you’re part of our family.”

Chapter Text

you just call on me, brother
when you need a hand
we all need somebody to lean on
i just might have a problem
that you’ll understand
we all need somebody to lean on
-bill withers, “lean on me”

“One more, please.” Wayne passes Eddie another piece of scotch tape, and he seals the final flap on his beautifully wrapped gift. 

Nancy’s birthday party is that evening, and Eddie can say with confidence that he’s found her the most metal present he’s ever given anyone. It looks like an ordinary briefcase, perfect for an aspiring journalist, but it has a secret compartment with a gun hidden inside. He hopes she likes it as much as he thinks she will. Nancy is most of the reason his pathetic ass didn’t bleed to death in the Upside Down, so an awesome birthday gift feels like the very least he can do for her in return. He won’t be there to see her open it, though. He has no intention of actually attending the huge blowout the Wheelers have planned. 

He hasn’t seen any of his friends, other than Chrissy, since his epic meltdown. Yep, he’s running again, he’ll admit it. Eddie the Formerly Banished, Now Colossally Mortified. He’s too embarrassed to face them. And he definitely doesn’t want to talk about it. The Party is all about talking, about everything, even more so since Vecna, but he just can’t handle it yet. They’ve already seen entirely too much of his ridiculous crybaby ways. He’s the oldest one in the group but they all constantly have to coddle him, it’s shameful. Eddie doesn’t want to see anyone until he’s sure he’s got a grip again. 

“Looks nice, son. You got a bow to put on it?” Wayne rummages through the shopping bag, now filled with scraps of wrapping paper. “Ah, here we go.” He pulls out the glittery puff of curly ribbons. “Interesting choice, darlin’.”

“It reminded me of her hair,” he jokes, and Wayne chuckles. He’s trying to peel the paper backing off the adhesive when there’s a loud knock at the trailer door. Startled, Eddie utters a high-pitched “eep!”, drops the ribbons and races to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

Wayne is astonished. “Ed, what’n tarnation?!”

“I’m not here!” Eddie yells. 

“The hell you say. Boy, have you lost your mind?”

“Papaaa. Please don’t make me answer the door,” he begs. “I’m not expecting anyone and last time I answered the door it was her. I don’t wanna be ambushed again.”

Wayne’s southern accent and expressions come out more when he’s grouchy. Eddie’s fairly sure he hears a muttered “consarn it!” as Wayne wrenches the front door open, and something about cheese slipping off the goddam cracker. Then, loudly, “You’n come out, boy, it’s some of your Party. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”

Except it sort of is? He’s acting all stupid and fragile like a delicate flower and they’ve caught him at it. Eddie wonders if he can escape out his busted window without anyone seeing him. He’s struggling with it when the bedroom door flies open and Dustin barges in, followed by Max and Steve. 

“Son of a bitch, Eddie, what the hell. What the hell, dude. Now you literally hide when we come over?” Dustin looks hurt. 

“You’ve been avoiding us again,” Steve accuses. “You always do this, Eds. Don’t you trust us?” He looks hurt, too. Shit, how can Eddie say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ without sounding like a total asshole?

Even Max looks upset, not mad like he would’ve expected. “You know, you’re breaking a bunch of rules in the Munson-Mayfield Sibling Doctrine.”

Eddie gapes at her. “Did… did we have one of those?”

“We do now. And I regret to inform you, you’re in direct violation of several fundamental principles.”

And there it is, his eyes are prickling. Jesus. Eddie blinks fiercely against the sting of tears. “Red, are you actually speaking nerd at me right now?”

“Figured it’s the only way you’d listen,” Max grumbles. 

“Guys, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, okay? I just can’t— I know you all want me to talk about it and I can’t. I can’t even think about it.” He gusts out a sigh, exasperated with himself. “Yeah, I’m hiding, ‘cause I’m stupid. I’m ashamed of how— how many fuckin times I f-fall apart in front of you guys and you all just keep picking me up like it’s n-no big deal but I c-c-can’t…” He turns his back to them, stares fixedly out the window. “I’m supposed to be better than this,” he hisses. 

“Says who?” demands Dustin. 

“I don’t— it’s just too much, Henderson, okay? I need too much, I’m taking too much. People can’t handle it when you’re too— too needy and— they leave you.” He bangs his forehead against the windowpane. “I’ll figure it out. I’ve gotta— I’ve gotta just learn how to be brave.”

“You’re joking, right?” Max scoffs. “Eddie, come on, after everything you’ve done the last few weeks? You’re brave already. You’re the bravest person I know.”

And just like that he breaks. He shatters, but his three amazing friends move as one to catch him and press all his pieces back together in their arms. 

“Goddammit, Red,” he sobs into their shoulders, “you can’t be nice to me. I’m— I’m so t-tired of crying.” He feels Dustin’s curly head tuck under his chin, a gentle hand rubbing his back. For a moment he can’t tell where he ends and they begin. For a moment he can stop being afraid. 

He pulls away before he wants to, but they can’t hold him up forever. “I’m sorry.” He lifts one shoulder to wipe his face on his sleeve, sniffling. Tries for a joke. “Guess you guys better start keeping tissues up your sleeves like my aunt does.” Dustin offers a weak chuckle. Max sighs. 

“Look, man, if we’ve been pushing you too hard about sharing everything, it’s only because we worry about you,” Steve says, reaching up to brush a tear from Eddie’s cheek with his thumb. “But when it gets to be too much, can you just say something? Okay? You don’t have to hide from us. Just tell us you need a breather or something. We’ll still be around, just, no pressure. You don’t have to be alone.”

“We’re not gonna get tired of you, Eddie,” Dustin informs him. “We’re not ever gonna leave you. That’s not how the Party works, shit, you should know that by now. Nobody keeps track of how much anybody needs, we just all help each other. We all need each other.”

“We love you.” Max flushes a little. “Sibling Doctrine, it’s totally a thing now. You’re never getting rid of us, Munson. So quit trying, wouldja?”

Eddie laughs. Then his chin quivers and he bursts into tears again, but he doesn’t turn away and neither do his friends. 

Chrissy, Dustin, and Max skip Nancy’s party with him. Eddie does call her to explain, though, instead of following his original plan of pulling a no-show at the last second. She’s really sweet about it, tells him she’ll miss him and hopes he’ll be back to “his regularly scheduled anarchy” soon. That makes him laugh. Nancy is truly a badass. 

Steve stopped by the Wheelers’ for a while, to see Nancy and drop off everyone’s gifts, but then he comes back to the trailer too, bringing movies and snacks and a big slice of birthday cake Nancy sent along for them to share. They let Chrissy pick the first movie, and Dustin declares that Eddie is overdue for some of his patented Cuddle Puddle Treatment. Before he knows it he’s in what is quickly becoming his favorite spot, tightly squeezed on the couch between Max and Chrissy, this time with the added weight of Dustin sprawled in his lap, and Steve’s legs kicked across Chrissy with his feet resting in Dustin’s lap. Chrissy’s hand is in Eddie’s hair, twining his curls through her fingers, and Max lets one of her hands fall over his wrist and doesn’t move away. 

It’s glorious.

He’s sound asleep less than thirty minutes into the movie. And when he wakes up, hours later, they’re all still there. 

INTERLUDE: WAYNE MUNSON

Eddie and Chrissy have driven him out to Keyport to meet Ally’s family. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go at first, to be honest; but apparently the little ones were excited to meet their Uncle Wayne, and Ed seemed relaxed and happy about going, so he agreed. 

He likes all of them well enough. What he really appreciates, though, is watching them interact with Ed, and him with them. The boy lights up around them. Charlie and Ally treat him like a younger brother, and he looks at the two of them the way Wayne sometimes catches the Henderson boy looking at Ed. Pure adoration. It does Wayne’s heart good to feel how much they already love his boy. 

And seeing him with the little ones is utterly enchanting. 

Ed’s barely out of the car when Joey launches himself into the air shrieking “catch me!”, and he does, catching him and spinning him around, flipping him upside down just to hear the little boy shout with laughter. They start swinging imaginary swords at one another and Ed tumbles to the ground in a dramatic heap when Joey pretends to stab him. He thrashes and groans until Joey comes closer, then sneak-attacks and starts a tickle fight. Wayne laughs harder than he has in awhile, just watching. 

When Katie gets tired of waiting her turn she tugs Ed’s sleeve, and the smile he shines down at her makes Wayne’s breath catch in his throat. Eddie hugs the little girl, calling her “ladybug”, then scoops her up and tosses her high in the air above his head, catching her easily and oh so gently. They’d told him the girl doesn’t talk, but she sure can laugh. 

Then Ed starts singing to her, swaying back and forth with her in his arms, and lordy be, Wayne nearly sheds a tear. It’s an old Styx song that he’s put her name into. “Ka-atie, when you’re with me I’m smiii-iling,” he croons. “Give me, oh-ho-oh-ho-all of your love… your hands build me up when I’m si-inking…” Of course he knows his boy can sing, but this is unexpectedly beautiful. He’s almost angry when Joey interrupts saying he wants a song too. But Eddie just laughs, sets Katie down and says Joey can only have a song if both of them will help him with it, and in a matter of moments he’s got them both doing the familiar stomp stomp clap rhythm of We Will Rock You. He launches into the first verse, replacing the word ‘buddy’ with ‘Joey’, of course. Charlie, Ally, and Chrissy all join in at the chorus. 

So help him, Wayne does too. 

There’s something magical about his son today. He looks almost ethereal, the sunlight picking out amber-gold highlights in his hair, turning his eyes the warm rich color of brandy. When he smiles, Wayne understands why Chrissy calls him angel. But it’s even more so the tenderness within him; there is a sweet gentleness inherent in his boy that he knows is rare, mostly nonexistent, with people who’ve grown up in situations like Ed’s. Despite everything he’s been through, he still has such a beautiful soul, and Wayne is grateful for the people who see and value his precious son as much as he does. This family, he’s sure of it now, will treat Eddie like the treasure he is. 

It does Wayne’s heart good. 

END INTERLUDE

INTERLUDE: ALLY DEMARCO

It’s hard to get a minute alone with Eddie with the kids clamoring all over him, but finally Charlie gets them settled down with cartoons and popcorn and she can show Eddie the paper that’s been burning a hole in her pocket all day. 

It’s a beautiful, carefully done sketch; a mock-up of a new granite headstone for Judy. “Charlie wants us to give her a completely new one,” she happily explains to a dumbfounded Eddie. “He said if we were doing it, then we should do it right. What do you think?”

The stone has three delicate zinnias carved in each upper corner, and very different text than the current version. 

JUDITH ELAINE MUNSON
MAY 28, 1949 - SEPT. 21, 1974
CHERISHED SISTER AND MOTHER
FOREVER LOVED - ACD & EWM

“Is that okay, that I put our initials?” she asks a bit anxiously when he doesn’t say anything. “I know it’s a little unusual… but I was thinking about what you said, that my parents erased you from her life. And I thought this way they can’t ever erase either one of us again. But only if that’s okay with you. We can still change this if you don’t think it’s right.”

She realizes then that he’s quiet because he’s fighting a losing battle with tears. “Nope. It’s good. It’s perfect, actually. Unless…” He lightly touches the W in his initials. “Do you think she’ll mind that I did that?”

“No, honey, I think she’ll understand.” Under the circumstances, Ally’s surprised he didn’t change his name sooner. She’s certain her sister would’ve approved of his choice. 

“Then I love it.” He grabs her in a bear hug, the first time he’s initiated a hug with her since he was a tiny wide-eyed boy of five. She feels her own tears welling up. “Thank you,” he whispers to her. “This is incredible. Thank you so much.”

“It’s our pleasure, honey, really. I’m so glad we can make this right.” It feels so good to give him this, but Ally hadn’t anticipated how much better she would feel too after removing the Parker from her sister’s name. When Eddie smiles at her it’s like seeing Judy smile again. 

He sniffles. “I like the zinnias. They were her favorite. I always remembered ‘cause I liked the funny name. She used to let me help her plant them.”

Ally grins through her tears. “Me too, when I was little. Judy always had a flower garden.”

“Maybe we can plant some for her, after they install the new stone?”

“I think that’s a great idea, Eddie. I think your mom would love that.”

END INTERLUDE

Chapter Text

i took a heavenly ride through our silence
i knew the moment had arrived
for killing the past and coming back to life

i took a heavenly ride through our silence
i knew the waiting had begun
and headed straight into the shining sun 
-pink floyd, “coming back to life”

Corroded Coffin is competing that day in a Battle of the Bands at the county fair, and Eddie is positively vibrating with excitement. He’s so keyed up it’s even more impossible than usual to keep still. Chrissy jokes that he’s wiggly like a puppy on adoption day, but he can’t help it. His feelings are too big for his body to contain them. 

Each band gets to perform one cover song, take a minute or two to introduce themselves, then do one original song. The guys have chosen Holy Diver as their cover (despite Charlie making a good argument for Rush’s Subdivisions) and an original written by all four of them; Grant and Eddie wrote the music and Gareth and Jeff, lyrics. It’s the first one they’ve all worked on together that they’re all really proud of, so the decision to play it today was easy. This will be the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. Eddie can’t wait. 

But first— he checks his watch anxiously, hops up on a bench to scan the crowd— first, he gets to introduce the DeMarcos to the Party. If they ever get there. 

“Eddie.” Chrissy tugs at his hand to pull him down from the bench. “Sweet angel. You know I never say this to you, but you have got to calm down a little. They’re coming. They’ll be here, and we’re all gonna have a great day, but just relax a bit, huh? I don’t want you to overload.”

“I know. I know.” He takes her hands in his, bouncing a little on his toes. “Sorry. I’ll be okay, promise. And thank you. Have I told you today how pretty you are? You look amazing. You are amazing. I’m so glad you’re here.” He leans into her, mouth seeking hers like he’s a starving man and she’s an ice cream sundae. “I love you,” he murmurs. “So fuckin crazy in love with you.”

“I love you too, god, so much.” She tangles her fingers in his hair, pulling him in deeper, and he goes willingly until he hears Wayne’s voice protesting “Lord have mercy, boy, behave yourself! You’re in public!” Laughing, he breaks away to stick his tongue out at Wayne, who mutters, “Reckon I done raised you better’n that.”

“You raised him just perfect,” Chrissy says sweetly, making both of them blush. 

“Oh god, gross,” Max laughs from behind them, and then they’re swept up in chatter by the entire Party and their families. Even Chrissy’s father and her brother join the group, much to Eddie’s surprise. Everyone wants to wish Corroded Coffin luck. El shyly offers up a handful of friendship bracelets she’s made, and blushes happily when the guys pounce on them and playfully fight over which ones they want to wear onstage. Eddie claims he needs more than one since he can’t possibly decide. He chooses one to match Chrissy’s, one to match the one Max wears, and one more just because it’s the same colors as his guitar. Maybe he’ll ask El to make an extra long one that he can stitch to the edge of a bandana, that would look pretty sick. 

At last, the DeMarcos arrive, and Eddie is almost too hyper to introduce them to everyone. Chrissy has to take over for him. He’s talking a mile a minute when the call goes out for them to report backstage, and everyone waves the guys away with shouts of “break a leg!” and “go melt some faces!”

Jeff suggested that each of them, after introducing themselves, dedicate their performance to someone special. He’s heard enough “Chrissy, this is for you” over the last year to know that Eddie won’t have a problem with the idea, and Gareth and Grant readily agreed as well. And now the time has come. 

“We’re Corroded Coffin,” Jeff shouts to the enthusiastic crowd, “and first things first, we wanna thank Janie for our awesome bracelets!” The four of them raise their wrists in unison. Eddie can’t find El but he does catch a glimpse of Hopper’s proud grin. He can’t resist flashing Hop his signature devil horns. 

Jeff continues, thanking the crowd for their support and dedicating his performance to his girlfriend. Grant and Gareth do the same, then look expectantly to Eddie. A big smile spreads across his face. Chrissy knows what’s coming, but this will surprise everyone else. “I’ve actually got quite a Party of awesome people here for me today,” he says, chuckling as he hears a loud hell yeah! from Dustin, “but this one’s dedicated to my family, especially Ally.” Eddie spots her in the crowd just in time. “Thanks for coming to find me. I love you guys.”

The audience roars its approval, Gareth counts them in, and they rock. 

The prize they win for second place is five hundred dollars, but Eddie’s flying so high when their name is announced that he honestly wouldn’t care if it was only fifty cents. Second place out of sixteen bands feels plenty amazing. 

And amazing quickly turns into mindblowing when Charlie brings a guy who sort of looks like Alice Cooper over to meet them. “You guys were fucking incredible,” Charlie tells them, “and this dude thought so too. This is my friend Jonesy. He owns a shit-ton of bars and clubs, and-“

“Let me tell them, man,” Jonesy interrupts, nudging Charlie. “I wanna get your band playing at a few of my venues ASAP. I’m thinking especially for the Bloomington crowd, you guys have the exact kind of sound and energy we need. And I know a couple other people in the business who are gonna wanna hear you, too.”

The boys stare at each other in shocked silence for about three seconds before exploding in whoops and cheers, pounding each others’ backs and jumping up and down in a hysterical and very shouty group hug. They discuss details for a few minutes, but Jonesy must realize they’re too excited to really pay attention, so he gives each of them his card and promises to be in touch soon. 

“You guys. Maybe this is it! Maybe ‘87 is the year we’ll make it big.” Gareth dares to say aloud what they’re all secretly thinking. “Who knows? I feel like anything’s possible right now.”

“I wonder if our five drunks will miss us,” Eddie laughs. 

INTERLUDE: CHARLIE DEMARCO

Charlie knew when he first met Ally that her family was kinda fucked up, but it seemed like every new fact he learned about them was worse than the one before. 

All she’d initially told him was that she didn’t have much contact with her parents. It only took meeting them once for him to understand that; her dad was some kind of narcissist or sociopath or something. He’d hated Charlie on sight. Hell, part of the reason Charlie got his Starman tattoo was just to piss off Ally’s dad. 

Later when he’d heard the story of the disowned sister, her junkie husband the accidental murderer, and the kid they all tried to pretend didn’t exist, it stunned him so much that three days later he asked her to tell him the whole thing again, just to make sure he hadn’t imagined it while on a bad trip. He’d read about psycho people who did insane shit to their families, but up to that point in his life he thought he’d been lucky enough to never have met any. Turned out, not only had he met two of the psychos, they were his parents-in-law; plus for an added bonus he technically had a brother-in-law rotting in prison somewhere. Charlie went out and pierced his nose to cope with that one. 

So, after all that, he felt like it was perfectly justified when his first reaction to Ally telling him she’d found her nephew, the kid they don’t speak of, and she was going to see him, was “Like hell you are.” Nobody could blame him for expecting the worst! Some random kid living in the middle of nowhere with a guardian nobody knew, and Ally thought she could just pop in one day and everything would be fine? What if the kid had inherited his father’s temper? What if he hurt her? Charlie had no problem telling her, loudly and repeatedly, that this was most assuredly a bad idea, but she was determined to see it through. So he shut his mouth and quietly braced for the worst, because things with Ally’s family were always the fucking worst. 

He was definitely not expecting her to come home overjoyed, with photos of a goofy metalhead and his careworn but kind-looking dad, full of stories about how nice and funny and charming the kid was. How talented he was on the guitar. How sweet he was with his girlfriend and sisters. How he’d cried when she showed him his mother’s album. “You just have to meet him, babe,” she’d told him, “you’ll see. You’re gonna love him.”

Even at that point Charlie still doubted he’d love the kid, but he’d never been so happy to be proved wrong. Eddie was a kindred spirit. By the end of their first weekend together, he and Charlie were bonded for life. The way the kids adored him just cemented it. Ally was right and he didn’t mind admitting it. Eddie was pretty damn easy to love. 

That was why he wanted to give Judy a new gravestone; Ally’s parents had only chosen that “precious daughter” shit for show anyway. That was why he was happy to bring Jonesy to check out Corroded Coffin, ecstatic when the man wanted to pursue them. He’d kept it a secret from Eddie, just in case, but once again it turned out that he was worried for nothing. Jonesy was a groupie in no time. Charlie was thrilled to be able to give the kid this kind of boost. He sure as hell deserved it. 

And, after hearing him dedicate his performance to them, there was something else Charlie thought he deserved too. 

“I wanna talk to you real quick, man,” he whispered to Eddie during a rare calm moment. “Let’s go get some funnel cake or something and just chat for a second.” Eddie agreed, and they broke away from their group and strolled down the midway together. 

“So listen, man, I just wanna lay some brotherly wisdom on you, cool? About this whole forgive-Joan quest Chrissy thinks you should take. No disrespect to her, I totally see where she’s coming from. I get what she’s saying, y’know? But I wanted to make sure you know that Ally and I don’t exactly feel the same way.”

He finds a bench in a fairly quiet area and sits sideways on it, facing Eddie. “Forgiveness is great and all, man, I admire Chrissy for wanting that, but… Ally and I feel like sometimes there are certain things in life that are just too big, too much to be forgiven. That sometimes the best you can do with them is chalk them up as a lesson learned and move on. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t make you a bad person, y’know? Not a bad person at all. Some things are just inexcusable. We both think what Joan did to you might be one of those things. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” 

He claps a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s entirely up to you, my dude, but I want you to know that whichever way you go with it, doesn’t touch what you have with us. Me and Ally, Joey and Katie. We’re your fan club forever, man. Whether you want to forgive Joan or not. Either way, we got you. So, y’know, in case that’s something that would’ve influenced your decision… you don’t have to worry about it, cool?”

The kid’s got tears in his eyes. Charlie pulls him in for a side hug. He can’t believe he ever thought this kid might be capable of hurting anyone. Under all the leather and chains he’s totally just soft and fluffy like a marshmallow. 

Charlie’s okay with that. He’s always liked marshmallows. 

END INTERLUDE

Chrissy was right; everyone had a great day. They went on all the rides, ate ridiculous amounts of fried food, laughed and shoved and competed with each other trying to beat the games. Eddie managed to win at a game launching rubber frogs into floating lily pads. The prize was a surprisingly adorable stuffed orange frog which, after a hasty whispered conversation with Chrissy, he gleefully presented to Max. 

“In honor of the Doctrine,” he told her with a wink. 

“You are such a nerd,” she shot back, but she carried the frog around proudly for the rest of the day, even taking it in with her when she and Lucas found a photo booth. That made Eddie grin. 

They were stopped a few times throughout the day by people shouting congratulations or rock on at Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. Each time someone recognized them, they got giddy all over again. A group of bikers even yelled hell yeah, Corroded Fuckin’ Coffin! and threw the devil horns at them. Laughing, Ally insisted the bikers come pose for pictures with the band. A couple of them asked for autographs, which had Gareth dangerously close to fainting. “This is it,” he kept saying, “this is how it all begins.” 

Maybe it would be. At that moment, though, Eddie was already pretty blissfully content. 

He and Chrissy were high up above the fairground on the skyway ride, tucked close together, his arm around her shoulders. The sun was beginning to set, staining the sky with pink and gold. It was a fairy-tale moment in an incredible day. 

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?” Eddie murmurs. 

“Course I do.” Chrissy snuggles closer. “Not quite as much as I love you though.”

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If you ever feel trapped with me, promise me you’ll let me know? And— and I’ll set you free.”

Chrissy tilts her head up to meet his eyes. “That’s… not at all what I was expecting you to say. What would make you think I’d ever feel like that? I’m crazy about you.”

He sighs. “I’m crazy about you too, honestly you have no idea how much, but I just want it to stay that way, y’know? I want… I mean, my mom was crazy about my dad. Presumably at one point your father was crazy about your mother, I dunno. Seems like it can change in a heartbeat. I don’t want us to ever change, but I know we might someday. And if it’s a bad change, if you ever need, or just want, to get away from me, I want you to feel safe enough to tell me and know that I’ll let you go. It’ll break my heart. But I’ll let you go.”

Chrissy is silent for a minute, pondering this. “Okay, angel, I’ll promise,” she says softly, “but it doesn’t matter, because I’ll never let you go. I’m gonna be crazy about you forever, Eddie.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Really. You’ll see. Fifty years from now, when we’re celebrating our golden wedding anniversary, I’ll still be crazy about you.”

“From now, huh? You proposing to me, Cunningham?”

“Maybe I am.”

“I’m all yours. Hell, I’ll even take your name if you want me to. Keep you from being lumped in with the riffraff, y’know, one of those Munsons.”

“Are you kidding?” Chrissy brushes a featherlight kiss against his jaw. “I can’t wait to be one of those Munsons. It’ll be an honor to be lumped in with you.”

Their laughter echoes across the sky. 

“Eddie, my love, all you have to do is say the word. I’d become a Munson right now if I thought there was any kind of minister here.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” His heartbeat flutters in his throat. “Holy shit, you’re actually serious. No, you can’t be, I’m a total mess, I—“

“We’re all messes, angel. But that doesn’t matter, you’re so many other things too, and all of them are amazing.” 

“But I’m a bad mess, a fucked up parents cries all the time needs a shrink kind of mess. They said I might have to take medicine.”

She shrugs. “So, you’ll take medicine. That doesn’t change who you are or how much I love you. I see a shrink, too, remember? Ally sees a shrink and she’s doing great. And hello? All of us have fucked up parents. We don’t have to be like them. That’s the whole point of seeing the shrink!” She giggles at the expression on his face. “Are you trying to scare me away? It’s not gonna work. Remember, I know your secret, you only look mean and scary.”

He can’t help but laugh. That day in the woods behind the school feels so long ago. “You think your mother’ll kill me?”

“She’ll have to get through me first.”

“And you actually are scary, so.”

She giggles again. “Any other objections? Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

“Jesus, woman, you’re gonna be the death of me.” The skyway ride bumps gently to the ground, and they hop down and head for the exit. Chrissy laces her fingers through his, and he pulls her closer to his side and kisses her temple. “Where’ll we live? Can we even afford a place of our own yet?”

“We don’t have to figure that out right away,” she insists, “Poppy says we’re welcome at the trailer with him for as long as we want.”

“Okay, what about college? You’ve got three years left, plus more if you need a master’s or anything.”

“What, they don’t let married people go to college?” She smirks at him. “Try again, angel.”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Eddie blurts out, “I’m the one who’s scared. I want you to fly, sweetness, I don’t— I don’t want to tie you down. I want you to have everything you want. I don’t want you to be unhappy years from now because you realized you could’ve done so much better than me.”

She stops walking. Takes his chin firmly in her hand, turning him to face her. “Edward Wayne Munson, there is nobody in this world who’s better for me than you.”

He laughs, heart soaring, even as two big tears roll down his face. “Okay, so, what’s the word, then?”

She kisses the tears away. “What word?”

“You said all I have to do is say the word. What’s the word?”

“Oh… it’s more like a few words, I guess. Something like ‘Chrissy Cunningham, love of my life, will you marry me and be mine forever’ should do nicely.”

“I think I can manage that.” He glances around. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Well, I’m not gonna ask you to marry me and then give you my ugly skull ring, am I? We’re at the fair, I oughta try to win you a ring, or at least a teddy bear or something, right? Come on.”

“I like your skull ring.” She giggles as he tugs her hand. “I like all your rings.”

“Nope. Too ugly for a fantastically beautiful woman like you. Just come with me!”

“I’m coming, angel. Anywhere you wanna go, I’m coming with you.”

Hand in hand, laughing, they run down the midway together. 

Chapter Text

the story's in the past with nothing to recall
i’ve got my life to live and i don't need you at all
the roller-coaster ride we took is nearly at an end
i bought my ticket with my tears, that's all i’m gonna spend
and i think it's gonna be all right
yeah, the worst is over now
the morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball
-the cyrkle, “red rubber ball”

To Mrs. Joan Parker:

This is your alleged grandson. My therapist Dr. Austin said I should write to you to sort out my thoughts and feelings about what happened the day you came to my trailer. She says even though yelling “fuck you” at you was probably satisfying in the moment, it’s not a healthy way to communicate. I asked her, if I agreed to write this, could I include the fact that I still stand by that fuck you? Because you REALLY deserved it. She said yes, so here I am writing, and fuck you for judging my home. (She says technically that’s two but she’ll let it slide.)

Anyway. This is most likely not gonna be a happy letter saying we can be pals now, so don’t get your hopes up. It’s supposed to be me figuring out what to do about you asking me to forgive you. Chrissy thinks I should, but Ally says its okay if I can’t. Wayne kinda hates you so I didn’t bother asking him. Dr. A says to stop focusing on what everyone else wants and just write down everything I’m thinking and that will help me clarify what I want. 

So I’ll jump right in and start with: Really you should’ve asked for forgiveness a long time ago, like 13 years ago when the entire world went to shit around me. When Mrs. Morris from next door held me and we cried while we watched my mother get taken away by an ambulance before I got to say goodbye to her, and my father get taken away by the cops before I got to say anything to him, where were you? You should’ve been there with me that day, asking me to forgive you. That would’ve been a better start, probably. 

I know I’m not supposed to think too much about what-ifs, because it’s pretty much pointless, but I can’t help it. There’s so many. What if, when my mom called you to beg for help, you had let us come to you? What if her taking me and leaving him was the thing that made him decide to get clean? What if he didn’t get clean but she was with you so she was still safe from him? What if her own father had treated her decently so she never ran away with an older boy in the first place? What if her mother had loved her enough to protect her from her father?

What if she were still alive? She wouldn’t even be 40 yet. So much of her was taken away from me and it didn’t have to be that way. And a lot of the reason it is that way is because of you and your husband. You guys may not have physically been the ones to kill her, but you’re pretty much the reason she was still there to be killed. She had nowhere else to go. Is that part of what you want me to forgive you for? I don’t know if I can. I might be almost 21 but I still want my mom. She should still be here. There’s so many things I wish I could tell her. It’s not fair that you met Chrissy and she never will. 

Also by the way, in case you’ve got other people on your please-forgive-me list, it’s kinda hard to forgive someone who never actually apologized, so you might wanna work on that. You never even said anything like you wished you hadn’t sent me away or you thought what you did was wrong. Just that you were sick and all that. Which is pretty cold, to be honest. I gotta admit I really don’t know what you expected of me. I mean yeah it sucks that you’re sick and I’m not wishing death on you or anything, but I really don’t even know you and honestly it feels like you dying peacefully doesn’t have anything to do with me. Not trying to be mean for no reason. Just the facts. 

But if it was up to me? Then honestly I feel like maybe you shouldn’t get to be at peace, because of what you did to my mom. Your own daughter. On whatever cosmic scale it is that you’re hoping to balance, it doesn’t actually matter that you left me, because I was lucky enough to have Wayne. He loves me and he says I belong with him and he’s been the best dad ever. But I still think just for what you did to your daughter that maybe you don’t deserve a clear conscience. I think you should remember what you did and feel bad about it. I think it should trouble you. And since you’re a “divine judgment” believing kinda lady, well maybe you should be judged the same way you judged my mom. 

Okay, what do you know, Dr. A was right. I know what I want. I don’t want to forgive or absolve you in any way. I can’t do it. But I also don’t want to hate you or keep being mad at you or wish bad stuff on you or anything. In fact, the minute I drop this letter in the mailbox I’m gonna do my best to forget all about you. I don’t want to think about you anymore. I just want to forget you and move on with my life. I have a lot to look forward to and I don’t want to waste another minute thinking about you. 

And I’m definitely a spiteful jerk for saying this but I hope you still think about me. I hope you read something awesome about me and my band in a magazine someday and you think, that could’ve been my grandson, but I royally fucked myself over and he doesn’t even know I exist.

Dr. A says we’ll work on that. She’s reading this and she says it’ll take time, and it’s maybe not realistic for me to think I can completely forget but we’ll do the best we can. She also said I could at least get some inspiration for some really thrash music out of this whole shitshow. Which is not a terrible idea if I’m honest. I’ve already got a sick riff kicking around in my head and I think Fuck Off Granny would be a pretty badass title.

Anyway. I’m making a mess of this. 

It’s not up to me to absolve you and I don’t want to and I’m not going to. And that doesn’t make me bad. I’m not a bad person for deciding to just keep moving forward. Dr. A says I deserve to be happy. I’m lucky enough to have lots of people in my life who make me happy, people who really care about me. I was pretty upset after you left that day and they

Dr. A’s interrupting again and wants me to be honest and tell you that it was more than just “pretty upset”, alright fine, you made me cry for like a week straight and feel horrible and trashy and worthless, okay? She says I’m not any of those things really— and usually I know I’m not, but what was I supposed to think after everything you said and did? I used to be tougher but I went through a lot of crazy shit last year and Dr. A says I get depressed or whatever and I should avoid actively inviting negative influences into my life. And she’s telling me to put this in quotes, “the woman nearly gave you a nervous breakdown, it doesn’t get much more negative than that.” So she says it’s better for me to leave you behind. She doesn’t think any relationship we’d have could be healthy, and honestly I have to say I agree.

I probably won’t be able to forget about you completely. But I’m gonna think about you as little as possible. I’m actually super excited for my future and I’ll ruin it if I keep looking back. So I’m gonna just keep moving forward and make my life as happy as I can. It’s full of people and things and music that I love and Dr. A says keeping my focus on all that will help me heal. Maybe you should find some stuff in your life to love too. 

Please don’t contact me anymore, I don’t want to see you or talk to you again. 

Goodbye,
Edward Munson