Work Text:
Chrissy started feeling sick a month into being married. Which was… disappointing, because her immediate thought after lurching out of bed at three in the morning to escape the warm bed covers and her new husband’s arms was— I was doing so well, too.
She hadn’t purposefully thrown up for nearly a year. Since leaving her parents' house after graduation and moving in with the Munson men, Chrissy relationship with food had shifted significantly. Eddie had known about her eating habits (or lack thereof) and seemed to work tirelessly to make sure she was at least nibbling on something at any time of the day. Wayne got in on the task too; never raising a brow at her and Eddie’s shared plates during meals, or Eddie’s compulsive habit of handing her any number of snacks he had stuffed into the pockets of his battle vest at random moments. In fact, Chrissy had nearly cried the first time she was handed an Oreo cookie from Wayne while they were watching the football game together (Eddie was nowhere to be seen, as per usual on game nights).
Slowly, the thought of food and actually putting it into her mouth wasn’t as big of an issue anymore. It wasn’t fixed just from Eddie and Wayne’s kindness, by any means, but it was a start. And she never would have been given the chance to start if she’d never met Eddie during their senior year.
Which made this relapse… weird. Nine months. Nine months ago, Chrissy had made a promise to herself and to Eddie, as they sat on the floor of the tiny trailer bathroom after a rather harrowing dinner (made even more embarrassing since it had been their one-year anniversary and Eddie had been so sweet and made dinner for them that night)—
No more. She was done. Her mother wasn’t here to berate her size anymore, Chrissy had autonomy over her own body and she didn’t like the way she was treating it anymore. Making Eddie so sad every time she threw up her food was like a punch in the gut and the cherry on top, all at once.
It was like a revelation. A promise, that she made to Eddie right then and there, after she was finished crying and he was busy washing the tears off her face. Done. All done. No more.
She did cry again the next day though, when he surprised her with a picnic at their table behind the high school and knelt down in the dirt next to her, making a whole different promise to her when he asked her to marry him.
Something like shame washed over Chrissy as she curled around the toilet bowl again, trying desperately to keep quiet so Eddie wouldn’t wake up. Her new husband had spent the entire day before moving them into their new house and (much to his chagrin and Dustin’s amusement) had pulled something in his back. Chrissy had happily spent most of the evening rubbing the knots out for him until he’d fallen asleep, snoring and everything.
“Chris?”
Oh, well. Maybe she should be a bit weirded out that she felt proud of herself for doing such a bad job of hiding her gross noise. She used to be an ace at puking silently.
“Uh huh?” Chrissy managed to gasp.
Eddie hesitated before she heard his hand hit the door knob, “You ok if I come in?”
“Yeah…” Chrissy moans, “I… I think I’m done.”
The door opened quietly and Eddie slipped inside, closing the door behind him again unnecessarily. It was a reflex from living with Wayne in the same trailer as them for so long.
Eddie was still bleary-eyed and slumped down next to her stiffly, doing his best to sit up against the hard porcelain of the bathtub. Chrissy slumped into the space between the tub and the toilet to face him, pushing the handle down to flush away the nasty remnants of their dinner the night before. Eddie tugged her foot up into his lap, pushing and prodding at her ankle lazily while they sat quietly, even once the toilet tank stopped refilling and the bathroom was quiet again.
“Feeling any better?” Eddie asks her softly, his eyes barely any brighter as he squints at her. His curls were all mussed up (probably her fault), and he had deep red lines imprinted into his chest from their blankets. He’d been sleeping hard.
Chrissy swallows thickly, too weak to kneel up to the sink for a sip of water, “Not really. But, I think it’s over.”
“Was it the fish?” Eddie asks, sounding nervous underneath the casual curiosity. Eddie wasn’t one to tiptoe around Chrissy’s eating disorder, but he had never been the type to outright blame it on her feeling poorly. If she told him, right now, that it was just bad food poisoning, he’d take her word for it. He’d keep an eye on her, but he’d believe her. It was one of Chrissy’s favourite things about him, that he trusted her to tell him the truth.
But that wasn’t what this was, and for all Chrissy knew, it could be food poisoning.
“I dunno,” Chrissy whimpers, “I just woke up and had to run.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, probably without realizing it. But Chrissy just smiles at him, not thinking badly of him for the raw reaction. “You weren’t sick last night?”
Chrissy shakes her head, “No. I was going to fight you for the leftovers for lunch today.”
A grin breaks out on Eddie’s face, the crooked wrinkles and dimples making an appearance, “Sorry princess, but I think those are gonna have to go in the trash.”
“Yeah,” Chrissy sighs, “I don’t think I even want to smell fish right now, anyway.”
“I don’t blame you,” Eddie gives her a commiserating smile, his thumb nonstop making trails of tingles up and down her foot and up her leg. “Think you can make it to bed?”
Taking quick stock of her body, Chrissy agreed she could probably crawl back. Eddie pouted when he realized with his back, he couldn’t manage to scoop her up and carry her to their bed like he’d normally do, and that just made Chrissy pout back at him. Those big Bambi eyes were going to kill her one of these days.
Spending the next day sick in bed together was all right though.
👑🎸
A couple days later, it happened again. This time, Eddie had crashed at Steve’s house after a ‘boys’ night’ (not Eddie’s idea, it was an unfortunate melding of both Harrington’s and Dustin’s minds), which left Chrissy with an empty house and a relaxing evening to herself. She’d fried eggs for supper and had a lovely soak in the bath before cuddling up in bed, enjoying her ability to fall asleep like a starfish across the entire mattress for once.
Bolting out of bed before midnight led eventually to Chrissy bawling into the phone and Steve Harrington’s ear, who was not fast enough in fetching her husband for her to cry to. It did lead to the rather amusing entourage that apparently felt Eddie wouldn’t do a good enough job to come home and comfort her, as her living room turned into the new sleeping quarters for ‘boys’ night’. Chrissy couldn’t stop giggling at Eddie’s unimpressed face when he’d carried her into the living room to cuddle on the couch, only to find Lucas and Dustin already cozied up with a small nest made up for Chrissy. Of which Eddie was apparently not invited.
“I don’t remember you knuckleheads being invited,” Eddie glares, having to shuffle in the hallway to hike Chrissy up higher now that he couldn’t just lay her out on the couch like he’d planned. Still giggling, Chrissy wrapped her arms around his neck, sneaking a kiss right there on his collar.
Mike tries to act like nothing’s happening, just clicking on their television to Wheel of Fortune. Chrissy makes a little gasping noise she would later deny ever happening, wiggling in Eddie’s arms. She was a pro at Wheel of Fortune.
Dustin boldly stuffs his feet further into Eddie’s favourite blanket, smiling up at the pair still standing in the mouth of the living room, “We want to make sure Chrissy’s okay.”
Eddie glares again, though Chrissy knows he’s not angry. Her husband wasn’t built to be angry. “That’s what phones are for, Henderson. It’s one in the morning.”
Steve throws Chrissy a sheepish look, his eyes filled with worry as he watches them. Chrissy gets it; Steve and the rest of the Party are rather codependent, for good reason. Nancy had the flu last week, and she’d complained to Chrissy that she might never want to see another bowl of chicken noodle soup ever again after the Party begged their mothers to make some for their friend.
Chrissy perked up, peeking up from Eddie’s shoulder to try and catch his eye around all the posturing and glaring.
“Baby?” Chrissy asks, as sticky-sweet as she can manage. Eddie’s looking at her immediately like she knew he would. Perfect .
“You ok, Princess?” Eddie asks, all worry and no grumpy, “What’s wrong? You feeling sick again?”
Chrissy pouts, but shakes her head. It makes the worried frown on Eddie’s face go away but those stupid, pretty brown eyes are looking her over, as his arms clutch her just a bit tighter.
Lucas looks over in worry, “Is she fevered? Nancy was fevered when she was sick.”
“Why do you know my sister’s temperature?” Mike asks with a side-long glance at Lucas, sneaking a look over at Chrissy in the meantime.
“Do you need a bucket? My mom has this bucket under the sink. Eddie, where’s your bucket?” Dustin asks, scrambling from his couch nest like a chicken trying to take flight.
Steve reaches out to smack at Dustin, “Gross, Henderson. They’re adults—”
“Can I have soup?”
The boys all freeze. Eddie blinks at Chrissy, complete bewilderment crossing his features before they smooth out into amusement.
“Soup?” he asks her, craning his head back as if to get a better look at her, “Again, Cunningham, it’s one in the morning .”
Chrissy scowls, “ Munson .”
Eddie rolls his eyes but Chrissy knows better and can see his lips fighting a smile, “Sorry Your Majesty,” he throws Steve a long-suffering look neither he nor Chrissy believes for a second, “my mistake. It’s one in the morning, Mrs. Munson.”
Chrissy sniffs, “That didn’t stop you from sneaking bacon from the fridge yesterday.”
“Lies and slander,” Eddie says immediately, ignoring Chrissy’s and the kids’ giggles, “that was two nights ago.”
“Eddie!” Chrissy giggles, nuzzling back into his neck for added effect and nailing it in one. She felt the moment he gave in to her odd request, especially since she was obviously sick and not feeling well.
“Ok sweetheart, what kind?” Eddie asks kindly, going and depositing her into her couch nest, not bothering to try and clear Lucas’s head before swinging her feet into the poor boy’s forehead.
“Hey!”
“Chicken noodle, please,” Chrissy pleads, cuddling into the Eddie-blankie and Dustin’s side, eyes already focused on Pat Sajak.
Eddie just shook his head and went into the kitchen, Steve trailing along behind him for some moral support and conversation. That was fine, Chrissy was happily warm and cozy between the sheepies; gleefully answering every puzzle before Dustin and winding Mike up with dirty answers before giving the real ones.
After her late-night soup, Chrissy didn’t feel that bad anymore and hyped it all up to just a regular upset stomach.
👑🎸
Except it kept happening. Before bed. In the middle of the night. In the morning, before she was able to leave for work. At work. Which was the worst so far (aside from the middle of the night stints when she lost sleep) because she worked at the Sheriff’s Station at the desk with Flo, who tsked at the grown-ass men who looked like they’d seen the Devil himself the first time Chrissy had hurled into her wastebasket.
While Hopper got Eddie on the phone, throwing Chrissy a concerned look, Flo sat next to her and patted her back gently before saying that one thing to make Chrissy want to puke for an entirely different reason.
“You and your man workin’ on filling up that new house of yours, Miss Chris?”
Chrissy’s spine felt like it was being pulled out of her ears from the shocked shiver that ran down her back.
“Oh,” Chrissy whimpered into the trash lining, “ fuck .”
Eddie couldn’t get out of work to pick her up— the record shop on main street only had three employees; the owner, Phil. Eddie. And a teen girl who might have been a sophomore or junior at the high school. It was a Tuesday morning, so she’d be at school, and Phil was probably at the hospital visiting his wife. Which meant Eddie was the only one there with no one around to cover him.
No worries though. The Munsons had a whole slew of friends that could step in.
So how was it that of all the people available to come and pick Chrissy up from work, it fell to Robin Buckley’s shoulders to guide the sick ex-cheerleader home?
Robin’s nose scrunched up when she walked into the front office of the Sheriff’s office and got a good look at the pale Chrissy Munson.
“Damn, Chrissy, if you were this sick why’d you come into work?”
Chrissy groaned, heaving herself out of her desk chair while waving away Flo’s helpful hands, “I wasn’t sick this morning.”
Flo tutted and fluttered behind her, grabbing Chrissy’s bag and jacket, “Go home sugar, lie down and get that husband of yours to run you a bath when he gets home. And don’t worry about coming in until you’re feeling better! Lord knows these boys can clean up after themselves for a few days.” Flo said while throwing a stink eye at Callahan, who was in the middle of trying (and failing) to basket-toss a scrunched-up ball of paper into the trash across the room. The heat of her glare seemed to throw off his shot, and it flopped uslessly onto the carpet.
Robin cackled at the slumping police officer who sheepishly picked it up himself under the watchful eye of Flo, while Chrissy dragged herself and Robin out the doors and to her car.
Knowing Robin wasn’t the best driver at the best of times, Chrissy pulled herself in the driver’s side and waited for her friend to follow into the passengers. Robin shot her a worried look as Chrissy started the car.
“I can drive you home, Chrissy. Steve’s been letting me practice and I think I could manage a couple of blocks.”
“We’re not going straight home,” Chrissy muttered as she swung onto the road, “and I’m feeling okay right now. Don’t worry.”
Robin’s nose wrinkles up, “Well, if you’re going to hurl, please make sure you turn on the signal before moving over to the curb because last time, when I was driving with Steve, Dustin was in the back and had this grody statistic about the number of people who get—”
“Robin!” Chrissy yelps, already feeling queasy over what this ‘grody’ statistic was about to entail.
“Sorry! I’ll shut up!”
The drive to Melvald’s was mostly filled with Robin’s usual amount of chatter, which Chrissy had always enjoyed because it gave her the choice to either engage or let it wash over her when she felt less than an ideal conversationalist. Like today.
Robin kept chattering as they walked into the general store when Chrissy picked up a basket, stalked down the ‘pharmaceutical’ aisle and picked out some antiacids and ginger ale from the endcap. She went on when Chrissy snagged some crackers. Even when she begged Chrissy with her own big brown puppy dog eyes for the rainbow-coloured ribbon candy she snagged from the shelf.
All the chattering stopped dead in its tracks when Chrissy unflinchingly swiped a row of pregnancy tests off the hanging peg and into the basket, only to cover them up with a box of tampons right after.
Robin blinked owlishly, “Uhh, isn’t that counterintuitive?”
Chrissy shrugged, feeling a lot more shaky than she had been at the beginning of the shopping trip, “It’s going to be one or the other, Rob.”
Robin followed after her, where Chrissy was walking up to the checkout like a woman on a mission, “I guess… hey if it ends up being the first thing, could I have those?” Robin points at the tampon box as Chrissy puts them up on the counter for Joyce Byers to scan through.
Chrissy snorts when she looks down, “Sure, they can be my gift to you for this harrowing shopping trip.”
Robin grins, “I do feel a bit like my mom dragged me out to do errands.” She sucks her lips in with a wince when Chrissy flinches, “Whoops. Sorry, too soon?”
Joyce gives them a big smile when the lady in front of them is leaving, “Hi girls! How are you?”
“Hi Mama J!” Robin greets the older woman, happily pushing Chrissy’s loot further up the counter towards the Party’s unofficial den mother, “I’m good, but Chris is, uh, a little under the weather.”
Joyce gives Chrissy a sorry look like she’s instantly ready to give the younger woman a hug and a cuddle. Chrissy loves Joyce.
“Aw hun, I’m sorry. Are you on your way home from the station?”
Chrissy nods, “Yeah. Hop tried calling Eddie, but he couldn’t get off work. So Robin came to save me.”
Robin nods, a bit bobble-headed as she leans over the register, watching Joyce scan each item and carefully place them into a bag, “Yeah, I’m the sidekick to Munson’s Batman.” she groans when she gets matching looks of confusion from Joyce and Chrissy, “Aw, come on! Batman! Like, Batman and Robin ? No?”
Joyce gives Chrissy an amused glance, “I would have thought Steve was Batman in that equation?”
Chrissy giggles as Robin gets a contemplative look on her face before having to agree with Joyce, though she immediately launches into an argument over whether or not she should be Batman and Steve would be her Robin, namesake or not.
It was distracting enough that Chrissy missed Joyce stuttering over the pregnancy tests as they reached her, scanning them quickly and tucking them away discreetly into the bag. Joyce wasn’t sure how she got away with simply waving goodbye to the girls once Chrissy paid when she felt like jumping around in excitement and badgering Chrissy to tell her everything as soon as she knew anything .
Robin jumped back into the passenger side without a thought, making Chrissy smile as she set the bags in the trunk. Steve had spoiled his best friend a bit she thought, as she started the car and began driving them both back to her and Eddie's house.
Chrissy felt a bit like she was setting Robin up in her bedroom like setting a kid in front of the television to give herself some privacy in the bathroom. Cue the shivers. Tucking Robin in, handing her the crossword book from Eddie’s side table and the small jar of ribbon candy she’d begged for at the general store— Chrissy went into the bathroom with her comical pile of tests to pee on.
Robin was munching on the candy by the time Chrissy came out, happily doodling phallic drawings into the empty white boxes of the half-finished puzzle on page forty-two. She looked up when Chrissy padded her way over to the bed, face planting into her pillow and somehow rolling herself into the blankets until she had turned into a Chrissy-burrito.
Robin sticks a hand out and pats the top of her red-blonde hair, “What’s the verdict?”
“Won’t know for another five minutes,” Chrissy whispers, “I didn’t want to be by myself.”
“Hmm,” Robin hums around her mouthful of candy, “well, no matter what, at least you got to pretend to be a scientist for a couple of minutes. Like my very own Chemist Barbie.” Robin sets another condescending pat on Chrissy’s hair, enjoying the fact that Chrissy has no ability to swat her away due to her current status as a Spanish meal.
Chrissy snorts, “They’re those new ones. I peed on a stick and put it on the countertop.”
“That’s so lame,” Robin sighs, “Kind of takes the fun out of it, doesn’t it?”
“You’re just upset you don’t get to play with them.”
“Yes, pregnancy tests are sort of mythical beings to lesbians.”
“Oh God ,” Chrissy moans, flapping around until her hands are free, just so she can push them into her eyes, “Robin, I think I’m freaking out!”
“Well, Jesus, it’s about time.” Robin throws the puzzle book overboard so she can sink down into the pillows, getting closer to Chrissy, “I was beginning to think you really are some Barbie impersonator.”
Chrissy bubbles a laugh through the oncoming tears, “I don’t know if I’m even having thoughts right now, Robin. I can’t remember how to make those happen!”
Robin squints at her, “Okay, no thoughts, got it. Any feelings so far?”
“Those are kind of numb too.”
She sighs, “Chrissy, I’m trying not to flounder here, but I could use some more adjectives to help me figure out who to call here.”
Chrissy sits up quickly, “What? No, you can’t tell anyone! This is between you and me, missy!”
Robin gaped at her, “Wha— why would you make me keep this kind of secret? Are you nuts!”
“You said you’re my Robin!”
“I said I was Eddie’s Robin! Batman called, I responded and got to save, um…” Robin squints at the top of Chrissy’s head and her reddish hair, “Poison Ivy?”
“You said ‘Munson’s Robin’. Not my fault you forgot that means me too nowadays.” Chrissy quips, feeling rather smug when Robin just blows a raspberry at her.
“All this aside,” Robin says as she pushes away whatever invisible force she felt was there, to set a rather stern-looking face at Chrissy, “You’ve got a husband that’s coming home in the next two hours and he’s going to be expecting some flu-ridden zombie that’s taken over his wife’s body. Not this panic-ridden, somehow still perky and adorable hot mess of a girl who’s just pissed on approximately twelve identical sticks of plastic. So, what’s the plan?”
Chrissy groans into her hands.
Robin goes on, “Because, no matter what those sticks say, Chrissy, Eddie should get to know.” She pets Chrissy’s hair, this time making it not feel like she’s treating Chrissy like a kitten but more like a good friend, “That weirdo really loves you, Chris, and he’s going to continue to love you no matter what. So what are you freaking out about?”
Robin had never been so serious for Chrissy like this before, and the tone seemed to be enough to make those useless thoughts in Chrissy’s brain start working again.
“I… we haven’t, like, talked about… this .” Chrissy whimpers, unable to say the words yet.
Robin still seemed to get it, if the way she reared back with a squished-up nose was enough of an answer.
“You two— the Star-Crossed lovers of fair Hawkins— haven’t even once talked about having kids? That never came up before you, oh I dunno, got married?”
“No, not—” Chrissy scrambled up on her hands and knees, “Yes, we did, obviously. That’s nuts if we didn’t— I mean, like, we’ve never discussed when would be a good time. We’re both so busy with work and getting the house finished, and Eddie’s getting busier with the band since Tessa showed up at the bar to talk to them, and—”
“This is beginning to sound a lot like excuses, Mrs. Munson,” Robin grins, “When you guys talked about kids, what did Eddie say? Was he excited?”
Chrissy bites her lip, a deep red blush overtaking her cheeks. Robin gives her a look, not sure what to do with that.
“...Do I want to know—”
“Maybe not.” Chrissy squeaks, her hands coming up to cover her face in embarrassment.
Robin pretends to gag but presses on, “Okay, ignoring thinking about what gets Eddie the Freak’s jollies off.” She shudders, just to get Chrissy to swat at her again, “Obviously, everyone knows he loves kids. He’s practically a big kid himself!”
“Yeah,” Chrissy sighed, this time feeling all mushy and soft thinking about the time Eddie had introduced Chrissy to a cousin of his, who had recently had a baby. Chrissy had barely been able to keep up with the conversation when her then-fiance had scooped up the baby and wrapped it up in his arms. They were probably lucky he hadn’t driven into a ditch on their way home.
Robin snaps in front of her face, “Focus up, Cunning— Munson. We’ve only got a couple of minutes left,”
Chrissy swallows, sitting up next to Robin against her headboard, “Eddie’s really excited to have a baby. I know that.”
“All right,” Robin says, her voice gentle again, “and… are you excited for a baby?”
Now, Chrissy would love to be able to just say yes without any stipulations. But that wasn’t the way Chrissy Munson nee Cunnigham thought. Her brain was wired all wrong, as she liked to think. It made things better when Eddie or one of their friends gave her that ‘oh honey’ look when one of her parents' old ideals accidentally made its way up and out of her throat; she could just think, ‘Whoops, crossed wires’, and forget about it. File it away for a different day to stew over and overthink.
Chrissy’s home life had not been ideal or in any way pleasant. Her mother picked on her, her size, her weight, and her diet. She pinched and pushed, physically and mentally. Took away food as punishment and hemmed in clothing that was already at least a size too small. Laura Cunningham was the largest reason Chrissy had gone looking for drugs and a certain metalhead in the first place.
Her father was distant and practically a ghost in his own home. Chrissy couldn't recall the last time her father had done much more than ask Chrissy or her brother to pass him the pepper at dinner time. She couldn’t even be sure if he knew she’d moved out of the house after graduation.
PJ, her younger brother, was as shut up and stuck in that house as she had been and Chrissy didn’t blame him at all for also being unable to foster a sibling bond between them. He was fifteen now and in high school, though she hadn’t seen him since she’d left with Eddie. She missed him, of course, but it was like missing a distant relative who lived in another state— not the emotions one would normally connect to a younger brother.
All that to be said, Chrissy hadn’t grown up in a household that fostered ‘family togetherness’. She hadn’t even known what she was missing, not really, until she’d moved in with Eddie and been shown by him and Wayne what family was meant to be like.
Wayne was like Eddie’s father— had been since Eddie had been dropped off at his door when he was seven. Eddie grew up being rather independent on account of Wayne’s job, but the two made it look easy like it was more the norm for a family unit than the touted picket fence and two-point-five kids all their parents were always talking about. Wayne loved Eddie, and Eddie loved Wayne.
And when Eddie loved Chrissy and asked Wayne to love her too, he did. Without question. Chrissy loved Wayne after that too.
Chrissy knows she didn’t get a mother she wants to fashion herself after. Laura isn’t the basis she would ever want to use for what a mother-daughter relationship should look like. No, Chrissy has seen other, better mothers she would rather be like. Joyce was the best mother she had ever met— her sons were wonderful; curious and kind and helpful, even after having a father that wasn’t any good. Eddie didn’t have a good father to use as a basis for himself either. He had better. He got a father-figure to compare his other one too, which would only make him all the better of a father.
Joyce Byers was the sort of mother Chrissy wanted to be like. One she thinks she could be like, actually. And Joyce would be the type of mother that would be a good grandmother too. Chrissy would like to be a mother if she could be one like Joyce.
If she could be a mother like Joyce… Chrissy’s thoughts spun, rethinking with those crossed wires that had made her spiral and overthink this whole thing in the first place.
Chrissy-Joyce would be a good mom. She’d give her baby cuddles and kisses, without any stipulations. Her baby wouldn’t have to learn walk on their own or refuse the crackers offered to her in order to earn those hugs and kisses. No, Chrissy-Joyce would kiss those baby cheeks just because.
If her baby wanted to be messy and play in the dirt? Well, Chrissy-Joyce would let it happen and yes, maybe groan a bit at the mess she’d have to clean up afterwards, but it would be worth it to hear those adorable little giggles while they played.
Chrissy-Joyce would love that baby. She’d love that baby, and she’d love being a mom if Eddie got to be a dad.
“...Chrissy?”
Robin’s face swam back into focus, still frowning at Chrissy in concern, but giving her the time to think about things.
Chrissy swallows thickly, smiling again., “I… I could be excited about a baby.”
👑🎸
“Chris?” Eddie called out as soon as he had the front door closed behind him, dumping his keys and wallet onto the crooked table his wife had probably picked out of a dumpster and felt sorry for it. Most of their furniture had been picked out with the same stipulations. Almost all were followed by big blue eyes that pouted at Eddie and some form of ‘But honey, it looks so sad all alone!’.
He was whipped, he could admit it. If it got him a few ugly tables and chairs, who cared, really?
“Chrissy?” He calls again, quieter now after his first hadn’t garnered any answer, in case she was asleep. His poor girl had been so sick lately and seemed to catch every little sniffle and flu going through this damn town. He’d been concerned at first, when he’d woken up a few times to her hurling into the toilet in the middle of the night and thought she’d relapsed with her eating disorder. But Chrissy hadn’t reacted the same she used to when purging, and the thought hadn’t crossed his mind in a long time. Just that he wished he could help her stop being so sick all the time.
The house was still quiet, so he tiptoed into their bedroom and found Chrissy all bundled up on their bed, and Robin curled around her and leaned against the headboard at possibly the most awkward angle. It was sweet though— their odd-ball friend obviously took his warning to take care of her to heart.
Stepping back out quietly, Eddie went into the kitchen, started up the coffee maker and began preheating the oven. The girls could have their nap, and he’d hopefully have edible food ready for them when they woke up.
An hour later, Eddie still hasn’t heard even a rustle from the bedroom, so he turns the oven back on to keep their food warm and wanders back into the room. The girls are still asleep, but he doesn’t bother sneaking up to them— obviously, whatever bug Chrissy’s come down with this time was enough to sap the energy from Robin Buckley.
Like every time he gets to see her sleeping, Eddie feels overcome with love just watching his wife, his Chrissy, relaxed and safe in their bed. It had become a sort of calming force for him since she’d moved out of her parent's house and into the trailer he’d shared with Wayne. Their little twin-sized bed he’d had crammed into the room he’d had since he was seven and just moved in with Wayne was lumpy and had old ass springs that dug into his hip whenever they rolled too far to the edge.
But it was theirs once Chrissy started staying over more and more, and it was theirs when she moved in officially and would be sharing his entire room from then until forever. Since the first time, she’d slept over and Eddie watched her fall asleep in his arms, he’d learned what inner peace was. What having someone trust you so implicitly meant when he got to watch his girl relax into his arms and sleep, knowing he’d be there in the morning.
Smiling, Eddie reached to tuck the hair out of Chrissy’s face, briefly amused when he did the same to Robin with only slightly less care. Both girls were still passed out and didn’t seem anywhere near waking up.
Well, dinner alone might be the way to go if he didn’t want to wait another hour or more to be able to eat.
Not wanting to leave without checking, Eddie knelt down at the side of the bed Chrissy was splayed out, resting his chin on his folded arms.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie whispers gently, “I made food if you’re up to it?”
Like he’d expected, she didn’t even stir. But, he’d feel guilty if he didn’t check before eating on his own and having her find out later. He tried to explain he wasn’t lonely if he ate by himself, but she seemed to believe meals were a social event. And everyone knew he was the last person to deny Chrissy of anything. Being blasted with the full force of Chrissy Munson’s sad eyes was no laughing matter.
Chuckling to himself, Eddie also did a double-take at Robin to see if she was in the land of the living yet (nope) before heaving himself up.
Something wedged between their shoulders caught his eye as he stood up. Possibly a remote control, though why they’d have the living room TV remote in here wasn’t clear. Then again, this was Robin. Maybe it had been a prop for a story about Steve. Those tended to require the most props.
It was probably uncomfortable, whatever it was, so he grabbed it and started wiggling it out. But when he got it free, it wasn’t what he thought. In fact, it was just some weird pink stick that Eddie couldn’t for the life of him deduce the meaning for.
“All right,” Eddie says to himself, placing it on the side table on Chrissy’s side and going to leave the room.
Except, you know… Eddie’s also a sucker for one Christine Elizabeth Munson, so he looks back at his wife before he turns to leave— and spots another one of those sticks stuck in the comforter.
“Okay, what the fuck?” Eddie says, still in a whisper and removes the second stick. Then, well, three more sticks.
“Yeah, nope, this is gonna bug me forever…” Feeling a bit bad about it since she’s feeling bad, Eddie wiggles Chrissy’s shoulder, nonstop jostling her until her eyelids begin to flutter and her breathing changes.
“Eds?” Chrissy mutters, struggling to blink awake. Her hands come up to smooth her hair back, and a little smile tugs her mouth up when she feels her hair already tucked behind an ear.
“Hi baby,” Eddie greets her, unable to keep himself from leaning in for a kiss, “How’re you feelin’, sugar?”
Chrissy hums, “Better. Robin came and got me from work.”
Eddie hums back, “Yeah, I know. I called her. You think you’re feeling up for some food?”
“Food?” Sleepy Chrissy mutters in a higher pitch than normally awake Chrissy does, and it always makes Eddie melt just a bit, “What kinda food?”
“Chicken pot pie.”
Sleepy Chrissy seemed to disappear immediately and Awake Chrissy was practically drooling over the pillow, “Chicken?! Yes, please!”
Eddie blinks at his wife, who had never been so feral for chicken before. But hey, if it was going to get some nutrients into her body other than the saltines he spotted next to Robin, then who was he to argue?
“You want it in here, or in the kitchen? Couch maybe?” Eddie asks, still not heaving her up from the bed like he might normally when she was feeling better.
“Couch sounds nice,” Chrissy sighs, stretching and moaning when her shoulders make twin clicking noises.
“Couch it is then,” Eddie grins. As Chrissy moves to start standing and Robin begins shifting around on his side of the bed, Eddie catches sight of another one of the suspicious pink sticks. He frowns at it, reminded of the weird phenomenon of the mysterious sticks. “Hey, Chris?”
“Yeah?” Chrissy asks, blinking up at him with still slightly sleepy eyes.
“What the hell are all these things?”
Chrissy frowns but looks down, “What thing— oh shit !”
The resulting screech shocks Eddie into falling back onto his butt and wakes Robin up so suddenly, she jackknifes up from the bed and scrambles for Chrissy.
“Holy cow! Chrissy!? What happened? Is it the baby?! What do I do? Do I need to call Steve— no, shit, Eddie, I totally meant Eddie— Oh.”
Robin froze in the middle of her scrambling, her hands pressed for some reason into the sides of Chrissy’s head from behind, so all Eddie could see were Robin’s Skittles-coloured nails coming from behind his wife’s ears through her hair.
Robin’s sheepish face peeked around Chrissy’s shoulder, “Hi Eddie.”
Eddie, however, was currently not high but really wished he could be.
“Rob—Chrissy, what?” his eyes felt like they were going everywhere. From Robin’s sheepish grin to Chrissy’s crazy wide eyes to the pink sticks to the other pink sticks to Robin saying— the tumblers in his brain were falling into place as he reached out to grab one of the several pink sticks he’d set aside already.
“Eddie—!” Chrissy seemed not to know what to do after that, but just let him look the stick over, the girls seeming to be holding their breath.
“Um,” Eddie finally (brilliantly) said, “Princess? Are these, um…”
“They’re pregnancy tests.” Robin piped up, oh so helpfully. Chrissy swiped at the hands still holding her head in place.
Some sort of noise, like a puh escaped his throat though he had no recollection of allowing that particular noise out.
Chrissy shuffled a bit closer, ducking to try and get a read of his face, “Eddie? Honey?”
“Robin…” he cleared his throat. Why was it hard to swallow all of a sudden? “Robin said, um…”
Robin, again apparently thinking she was being helpful, nods and says, “Baby.”
Eddie again wheezes out some form of guh and Chrissy scowls at their friend over her shoulder.
“ Robin !”
“Sorry! Jeez, sorry, I’m gonna— oh, is that food?” Robin sniffs the air, shuffles off the bed and rushes out of the room. Eddie hopes the food tastes good because he’s pretty sure his tastebuds disappeared when he swallowed his tongue.
The door somehow clicks shut behind her, so Eddie and Chrissy find themselves encased in quiet. Chrissy, no longer hindered by Robin behind her, manages to get her legs free so she can swing them off the bed in front of Eddie. Who was still literally knocked on his ass, clutching a pregnancy test.
“Oh Eddie ,” Chrissy coos, her hands fidgeting in her lap, “God, they’re those new ones that just came out, you know? But I wasn’t sure how they’d work, so when we stopped at Melvalds because Flo made some stupid baby comment while I was waiting for Robin to come to get me, I just sort of scooped a whole lot of them into my basket, only when I opened the boxes there’s, like, two in each box. Which seems wild, but I guess they’re not always accurate, so then I started using a bunch of them after the first couple turned blue? Then Robin got into it and started saying how it was more scientifically accurate to have more for, like, a majority vote kind of thing? But more and more of them were turning blue and only like, one wasn’t? And we were getting freaked out and then excited and I guess we fell asleep before I could clean them up to surprise you—”
“ Chrissy .” Eddie gasps. He was pretty fucking surprised right now, he had no idea what she was talking about.
Chrissy goes quiet again while Eddie struggles to make any more noise. She lets him take his time because she loves him. And he loves her dammit, but the absolute tidal wave of information she’s just given him is way too much for his hamster brain to handle.
“Chrissy, sweetheart,” Eddie points the stick at her, “are you…?”
Chrissy smiles, her shoulders slumping from their previous spot near her ears.
“I’m pregnant, Eddie.”
Eddie’s breath kind of just… leaves his body, “You’re—”
Her grin gets bigger, “We’re pregnant , Eds.”
“Oh my God ,” Eddie gasps, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden as a wash of something goes through his body. Chrissy didn’t expect him to launch himself from the floor to full-on body tackle her back into the bed if her resulting scream said anything about it.
Her giggles got louder and happier the more kisses he pressed into her face, haphazard and so all over the place, he’s pretty sure he managed to kiss her front tooth twice.
“Eddie!” Chrissy shouts through her laughter, his own chuckling making it very difficult for either of them to stop laughing.
“Oh God, baby, you’re pregnant!” Eddie shouts, all those pesky emotions finally resulting in an explosion of chaotic glee, “We’re gonna have a baby!”
“Yeah,” Chrissy managed to sputter around both of their hair and through Eddie’s maniac kissing, “it’s… good, right? We haven’t really talked about when—”
“Holy hell, it’s good!” Eddie rushes to say, not wanting her to think he wasn’t ready or something. He squished her cheeks between both hands, making a rather hilarious ducky face he probably shouldn’t be thinking about too hard right now, “It’s so good. It’s great. It’s amazing. It’s whatever the hell synonym is gonna get you to believe me.”
Chrissy is laughing at him again (but what else is new? He lives to serve his queen), “Ok, I got it. I was a little worried we weren’t ready, but if you’re sure…”
“Oh baby,” Eddie grins through another messy kiss that was more teeth than lip, “I’m sooo sure. I’m sure excited to have a baby with you,” he presses a kiss to her nose, “To watch you grow our baby,” a deep kiss to her lips, “to spoil this baby rotten,” one to her cheek, “spoil you rotten,” both her eyelids, “and be unfathomably randy over the size your boobs are gonna get.”
“... Edward! ”