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TW: Discussions and depictions of PTSD and panic attacks.
Some canon divergence: In addition to Eddie surviving and Max not being comatose, the backstory for Eddie’s parents is also purely written for my fics, and I came up with them before the release of s4v2 (even though we only get an inkling of info about Eddie’s dad) and since my version is already incorporated in another fic, I just stuck with it here.
This is technically a followup fic to my Joyce and Eddie story, “Warm.” I’m hesitant to call it a sequel, but…kinda? Either way, “Warm” was REALLY well-received, here and only my other socials, and I wanted you guys to know how much I appreciate that! <3 I loved writing that fic, and am really proud of it, so I’m glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you enjoy “Safe” too. I figured Eddie needed to bond with his surrogate mother figure’s other half as well!
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It had been nearly a week since the fallout. Since the Upside Down — Hell, came bursting forth to swallow up the once quiet town of Hawkins.
A week since the crowding of a thoroughly unlikely team of friends and allies, and their families, gathered on the property housing former Chief Hopper’s cabin, which, all things considered, had seen better days. Those who were injured, like Eddie slept inside and shared one of the two small bedrooms, living room, or loft with whoever else could fit. Everyone else was either camped out in the back of Argyle’s pizza truck, Eddie’s van (rescued courtesy of Wayne) or in makeshift tents out in the field, when the weather was agreeable. Indeed, it felt like the unusual group was at last beginning to settle into something resembling safe-haven, and the feeling was most welcomed, even if it was temporary.
Since their arrival, the group had managed to patch up the old place as best as they could, given their limited resources and construction skills, but at the very least, the gaping holes in the already precarious roof were covered, and the smashed windows had been (somewhat) repaired, at the very least it kept the rain and seemingly endless dusting of ash falling from the sky from getting in. — Even some of the residents in/around the house had been patched up.
“Just, keep your arms as high up as you can for me, sweetheart.” Joyce commanded softly, as she wrapped Eddie’s torso up tight in fresh bandages. His uncle watched intently, leaning tiredly up against a doorframe, cigarette smoldering away in his loosened grip. Eddie occasionally caught his eye while Joyce worked, but tried hard not to let the gesture linger long enough to force acknowledgement. He loved Wayne, and Wayne loved him, but ever since his ‘resurrection,’ the aging man had been absolutely unshakable.
Part of Eddie found it a bit amusing, considering his uncle had always jokingly picked on him for his own clinginess, but it was also getting to be rather annoying, infantilizing, even. The man was around every corner, waiting for Joyce to declare that she needed his assistance, or doting on his nephew, making sure he had everything he needed, sometimes before he even asked, or trying to gauge whether or not he needed help with any number of basic tasks, or just wanted to talk, as if they all haven’t been living the exact same routine as everyone else in the house. Eddie could tell he was a little remiss at being shrugged off almost every time, so occasionally he’d lie and say he really needed help changing his bandages, or was too exhausted to make his own sandwich, or needed help tying his shoes. Something simple, easy, and non-embarrassing to placate the overly concerned man.
It just so happened though, that today was yet another day that Good Nurse Joyce beat him to the punch. “There we go. All set!” She gently patted his tummy a few times as she fastened a pin to the cloth. “You’re healing up nicely, seems you really did get here right on time! Hopefully they won’t scar too badly.” She mused, washing her hands while Eddie put the medical supplies away. He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, if they did, y’know? Scars are pretty metal.” Joyce rolled her eyes and smirked at his uncle. “‘Metal’ he says.” She chided good-naturedly, earning a solemn smile and nod from Wayne.
He watched with an odd air of contentment as Eddie pulled a shirt over his head, and went about doing some light chores around the cabin. Occasionally sharing a word or a joke with Joyce, who seemed to take to her assumed role so naturally. It reminded him so much of his late sister, and the pure and loving closeness she shared with her only child. They only got seven years together, but in watching Eddie carry on so fluidly, so ordinarily with Joyce Byers, made him wonder, if this is what it would’ve been like if she were still here? — Minus the whole ‘Hell on Earth’ thing, which he still had yet to fully wrap his head around, of course.
Suddenly he was grounded from his thoughts by the firm weight of a calloused hand against his shoulder. The jostle forced the ash at the tip of his cigarette to fall to the floor, which Eddie noticed and swept up, giving his uncle a teasingly scolding look. “Tsk tsk, smoking indoors? Who even DOES that?” He smirked. Wayne glanced back to see Hopper standing over him. The man had lost a considerable amount of weight, his hair was buzzed nearly bald, and his once soft face was hardened by healing scars, but those eyes were unmistakable. He was still the same old Hop.
Wayne nodded stiffly. “Hop.” He greeted stoically, finally taking a stiff drag from the already half-spent cigarette. Hopper strode over next to him and let out a gravelly laugh. “Talkative as always, I see.” He joked. “He’s doing well here, your kid.” He complimented, gesturing to Eddie, giggling away with Joyce about some undisclosed point of humor. Wayne nodded again. “Yep.” Sensing his tension, Hopper clapped a hand against his back twice, before landing against his shoulder once more. “Wayne, y’know, I KNOW he’s not guilty. Everyone here is on his side, and once all of…this…whatever this is, is over, I promise you, we are going to—“ “And it still won’t be enough, will it?” Wayne spoke plainly, as always. “I appreciate the sentiments Jim, I really do, but you n’ I both know that this town’s been gunnin’ for that boy for years. Now they have an excuse, and by God they’re gonna cling to it for as long as they can. We’ll have to leave, I know we will.” Hopper opened his mouth to reply, but quietly closed it, gently pulling his hand back and stuffing both in the pockets of his jeans.
Somehow Wayne sensed his old friend’s mind at work, trying to process that brusque delivery and cobble together a reply. He turned to face him, eyes weary and face worn and tired as he was still coming down from the insurmountable stress of the past two weeks. He gestured lightly in Eddie’s direction with his cigarette. “That boy’s been through literal HELL and back. More than once. I’m not about to put him through it again for the sake of stickin’ around in a place he ain’t welcome in the first place. Won’t hear of it.” With that, he took a long, stiff drag from the cigarette before extinguishing the scant remains in the ashtray on the coffee table.
“Well, no one could ever accuse you of mixing your words, old man.” Hopper surrendered, giving him a stiff pat on the shoulder before brushing past him. Approaching Joyce, he took her by the hips and pulled her close, into a kiss. Eddie clutched the broom in his hands and shook his head, unblinking at the sight. “I swear, I am NEVER gonna get used to that.” He muttered to himself with a sarcastic chuckle.
“The kids are about to go on another supply run. Find what they can find, see what they can see. I’m gonna grab a quick bite, then head out with ‘em.” Hopper gestured to the door with a cock of his head, Joyce widened her gaze and stepped back, arms firmly crossed. “Hop, you’ve been on EVERY RUN since we got here, morning, noon, and night, you need to slow down!” She scolded. “I can’t let them go on their own, Joyce, every single one of the parents, except for Charlie Sinclair are scared out of their wits, and-and these kids ARE fighters, but they’re not exactly ‘survival ready.’” He rationalized, nudging Joyce closer to the kitchen window so she could catch a glimpse of the kids running amok outside. — They weren’t exactly ‘kids’ anymore, but the egregious use of signal flares to light joints and medical tape to sturdy makeshift forts only helped ingratiate Joyce to the point Hopper was trying to make.
“I’ll tell you what,” She started, lightly tugging on the dirtied lapels of his jacket. “I’LL go with the kids. You stay here and rest. We can manage ONE run without you.” Hopper pulled away, exaggeratedly shaking his head. “No, no, no. Joyce, holding down the fort’s one thing, you at least have shelter, protection if one of those…things comes around. Out there? Out there’s different.” His grim warning did nothing to shake her nerves, which he should’ve anticipated.
“Well, I could always bring along a ‘chaperone’ if it’ll calm your nerves!” She joked, nudging his chest with an elbow. “Wayne! Why don’t we go together?” At this point, the three men in the room all simultaneously eyed each other, then leveled their uncertainty at Joyce. Wayne, specifically raised a brow and held a long stare at the woman. “Y’know, I just thought it’d help you clear your head a bit, to get outta this cramped little sardine tin and do something productive, you haven’t set foot out of this cabin since we got here, and I know you wanna help, however you can. And I for one am going CRAZY sitting around here doing nothing.” Joyce finished exasperatedly, slapping her arms against her sides. “Y’been takin’ good care of everyone here, especially my boy, that ain’t nothin,’ Ms. Byers.” Wayne prided coolly. Joyce smiled at his well-mannered drawl; she’d given up on telling him he could just call her ‘Joyce’ days ago.
“If y’don’t mind me askin,’ how good are you with a gun? Any gun?” Wayne asked, crossing his arms. “Solid.” Hopper vouched, smirking at her from the side, not wanting to divulge too much about their exploits in Russia, but still taking the opportunity to praise her. Wayne nodded and glanced outside. “It’ll be dark in a few hours, kinda looks like rain, if we’re really gonna do this, we might wanna get goin.’” Wayne shrugged on his worn denim jacket and grabbed a few bags, waving Joyce on to jump in. As he laced up his boots, he paused, catching sight of Eddie in the kitchen, the wind instantly knocked from his sails, again.
“Joyce, if you’re comin’ with us, who’s gonna watch out for Eddie?” He asked, trying to keep his voice down, but judging by Eddie’s frustrated huff and the roll of his eyes, it didn’t go unnoticed. “Oh, Jesus…” The young man bemoaned, leaning back against the counter with defiantly crossed arms. A heavy hand landed just a little too roughly on his shoulder, jostling him slightly as he winced from the discomfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch him.” Hopper smirked, feigning enthusiasm. He chuckled a bit as Eddie pulled away.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me. I’m an ADULT, I don’t NEED a BABYSITTER.” He stood his ground firmly. His aging uncle approached him with a stern stare. Eddie recognized it, and quickly backed down. Wayne was hardly ever strict with Eddie, but when he did need to lay down the law, all it took was a serious shift in his weathered face, and a certain sternness to his tone for Eddie to surrender in defeat. “Son, Hop’s gonna stay with you while we’re gone. Not a babysitter, just a friend helpin’ a friend, s’all.” Eddie made an irritated, pouty face and looked away, Wayne gently cupped his cheek and literally pulled his attention back his way. “Look at me, boy. Didn’t you hear him say it’s dangerous out here? ANYTHING could happen. And it’s not just those damned monsters you’ve gotta worry about, any of those bloodthirsty busybodies in town make their way up here, then what?! Hop knows what he’s doin,’ and it pains me to say that you’re a terrible shot, so you’re stayin’ with him. Don’t argue.” Eddie looked down at his shoes. “Yessir.” He grumbled, hot in the face at his uncle’s unintentional embarrassment, after he’d so firmly declared that he was, himself an ‘adult.’ He hated to admit it, but he did have a point, as far as the idea of a chance run-in with literally anyone in Hawkins right now.
Wayne gently pulled Eddie closer by the back of his head, and kissed the soft top of his dark curls. “We’ll be off, then. You behave while we’re gone, y’hear!” Wayne ordered with a wink, as he and Joyce prepared to rally the troops. “Be careful.” Hopper whispered, planting a kiss against Joyce’s lips. She held his hand, him stretching his arm out far, only releasing her from his grasp once she’ reached the threshold of the old wooden door. “So…now what, oh mighty guardian?” I hope you brought some coloring books for me!” Eddie jabbed petulantly, propping his face up with both hands as he leaned over the counter. Hopper sighed deeply and stared out the kitchen window, watching as Joyce, Wayne, and Mr. Sinclair rounded up the kids and loaded the vehicles, wondering now if it was too late to change his mind.
Hopper had plenty of experience with Eddie Munson in the past, but being tasked with watching after him as an injured and sometimes still needy young adult was a far cry from dealing with an overzealous, rebellious little teen mouthing off from the back of his police cruiser.
“Hellooooo?” Eddie teased from behind him, Hopper pursed his eyes shut in frustration and turned to face him. “Nothing. That’s what. Read a book, go plan one of your…adventures, or—“ “Campaigns.” Eddie corrected with a smirk. “Campaigns, whatever. Just…do your best to stay outta trouble for a few hours, okay?” The older of the two breathed exhaustedly. Inwardly, Eddie was surprised that his assumed former rival appeared to be giving up so quickly.
Eddie rounded the counter and stopped in front of him, arms wrapped around his thin frame as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Ah come on, ‘Chief,’ you sure you don’t wanna chase me around for old time’s sake? Maybe slap some cuffs on me, although these days, that’s kinda my—“ “I don’t wanna know.” Hopper said impassively, keeping his eyes on the coffee maker as he tried to watch the little pot at the bottom fill up as absentmindedly as possible. Indeed, it was going to be a long evening.
“Coffee?” The former officer asked, holding up two mugs, both noticeably chipped (likely survivors of Elle’s tantrum a year or two back) Eddie shook his head. “Nah, thanks though. We don’t have any sugar, and what’s left of the milk should probably be saved for the cereal.” Hopper nodded once and downed a large gulp of stiff, black coffee. Eddie grimaced at the sight. “Ugh, you’re just like my uncle, I don’t know how you stand it.” “PLEASE go find something to do…” Hopper rubbed his eyes with a free hand, and Eddie at last surrendered and headed for the bedroom he and Wayne had been sharing.
Rummaging through the admittedly sparse duffel bag his uncle had managed to pack before making his way here, Eddie pulled out a rather beat up copy of “The Hobbit.” He smiled for a moment, reflecting to himself about how grateful he was to have someone as thoughtful as Wayne. — Hardly anything in the Munsons already modest household had survived the opening of the gates, and Wayne still prioritized making sure Eddie had some of his favorite things to give him some sense of normalcy.
Thumbing through the worn out pages, just about all of them dog-eared from years of reading and re-reading on loop, he stopped where a very uncharacteristically girly bookmark sat tucked right into the interior of the spine. It was light green, with pink and red roses and yellow butterflies. On the back, there was a distinctly fine cursive signature, along with a message. “A gift for you. Please stop mutilating your books! — Love, Nancy.” Eddie chuckled, remembering the prim and proper gunslinger practically shoving the bookmark at him in the Wheelers’ basement once she first caught a horrified glance at the bent and slightly torn pages of one of his D&D plan books. She’d be happy that it was at least going to use.
Sliding the bookmark carefully onto the nightstand, Eddie settled into the mountain of plush pillows behind him and began reading.
Somewhere in between his vivid imagination conjuring up scenes from the beloved story he’d read countless times, the rumble of the approaching storm outside his window, the distant, nagging worry over his loved ones out on their supply run, and the even more distant, and yet never quite out of reach memories of his exploits in the Upside Down, the visions in Eddie’s head began taking quite a sinister shape as he unknowingly drifted off to sleep.
One thing that Eddie could never recall being frightened of as a child was thunderstorms. He couldn’t for the life of him fathom what was bringing on this overwhelming feeling of dread, now, but he knew by the uncomfortably familiar feeling, that it was one hundred percent, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a deep-seated, and unshakable fear creeping over him.
Outside the window next to his sleeping body, a typical Springtime storm rumbled through the shelter of the towering trees that surrounded the little safe haven, nothing out of the ordinary. But in his head, it only added to the realism of the violently bright red strikes of lightning that illuminated the otherwise bleak skies in the Upside Down, where he currently stood, frozen in place, watching his nightmare unfold.
He was stuck, trapped by a tangle of Vecna’s vines. Holding him firmly in place as he screamed, calling out the names of his friends in the endless distance, only to be met with a haunting echo, a clap of thunder, or the growls and screeches of the practically hellborn creatures that inhabited the Upside Down. “STEVE?! DUSTIN?! MIKE?! MAX?! ERICA?! LUCAS?! ROBIN!? NANCY?!…ANYBODY!?”
Suddenly he FELT it, a stiff and painful jerking sensation in his leg, as one of Vecna’s vines slithered up from the tangles and pulled him backwards, dragging him across the jagged field of decay. His whole body believably aching as it was mercilessly strung along the rough terrain.
“LET ME GO! Y-YOU SON OF A BITCH!” He cried exasperatedly, suddenly finding himself hanging upside down, suspended in the air before Vecna himself. All around him, the bodies of his friends floated grotesquely on display. Mangled. Nearly unrecognizable as anything remotely human. Panicked tears rolled down Eddie’s cheeks as he turned to face Vecna. “Eddieeeee.” He seethed cooly, extending a massive, clawed hand and holding it just above his horrified face, before clamping down. “It will all be over soon.” The sinister voice promised.
In the cabin, Hopper parted one of the tattered living room curtains and peered up at the darkening sky just outside the window. The rain was already coming down pretty hard, and it appeared the storm may intensify. He’d always heard that the older you got, the more accurately you could predict the weather, and Wayne (though only a handful of years his senior) had been correct in his insistence earlier that a storm was approaching; he’d have to remember to tease his old friend about his advancing age, later.
Suddenly, a sharp gasp, and the sounds of the thick wooden headboard of Hopper’s old bed frame tapping against the wall ripped through the otherwise silent air. Thunder again. “Eddie?!” Hopper called out, only to be met with another, harder slam of the headboard, and a pained whimper. Hopper snatched the double barrel that leaned up against the chair by a nearby corner, and quickly checked to make sure it was still loaded. “Eddie I’m coming in!” Hopper warned, slowly approaching the half-open door.
Trapped in his nightmare, Eddie struggled, his head beginning to pound as his eyes experienced a sudden, tremendous pressure. In the background, a flurry of all of his friends’ favorite songs melded together in a haunting, hopelessly disjointed melody that hurt his ears. But he couldn’t make out his own song among the chaos. Nothing and no one could save him. “It is time, for your suffering…to end.” Vecna ordered, sinking his claws into all sides of Eddie’s face as he cried out, only managing a string of “NO!”s, as he watched the soulless evil behind the mess of the man formerly known as Henry Creel glowering at him. Helplessly, Eddie succumbed, a sudden feeling of pressure squeezing hard against his shoulders.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” Vecna hissed tauntingly. Looking around, from what little he could see from beneath Vecna’s grasp, the world around them began fading out, things disappearing, changing, flickering off into the darkness. Suddenly, the voice calling his name began to sound a great deal familiar. “Eddie! Eddie! EDDIE! C’mon, wake up, kid!” His large brown eyes shot open, swollen with tears. Hopper stared down at him, his expression a mixture of concern and tired annoyance, the firearm he’d brought in lay carelessly on the floor behind them, dropped in a hurry.
“Holy shit, kid! What the hell’s goin’ on?!” Hopper exclaimed, some modicum of irritation present in his tone once he acknowledged the pair was alone in the room. The man paused upon noticing that Eddie, only half awake, was still thrashing about on the bed, eyelids flittering and teary as indistinguishable words escaped his contorted, drooling mouth. “N-N-NO! NO! NO! NOOOO! S-STEVE! RUN! YOU-Y-YOU…” In an instant, a distinct feeling of pity and frustration filled Hopper’s heart. He’d seen this before. Experienced it, first hand; this was no ordinary ‘nightmare.’
Slowly he extended his arms, waiting for Eddie’s thrashing to become a little less erratic. After a few short moments, he gently scooped Eddie up and held him close; the younger man was surprisingly light, but it was still a bit of a struggle with the fight he was putting up. “HNN! L-LEMME GO! LET ME GOOO! N-NO, V-V-VECNA, W-WE…WE HAV-HNN!” Tears rolled down Eddie’s cheeks and his long, lanky limbs flailed around wildly in every direction they could. Hopper turned his head and winced, hoping Eddie’s many rings or long, painted fingernails wouldn’t make contact with his already battered face. “Shh…shh…It’s okay, kiddo, it’s okay. Just wake up, you’re safe, you’re safe…” Hopper soothed as gently as he could, shakily rocking the twenty year old in his arms, one hand pressed gently but firmly to the back of his head. — In any other scenario in which this happened, he might feel a little silly, cradling the grown adult like a frightened child, but knowing what the young man was going through, Hopper leapt into action with surprising deftness, trying to carry out the task of bringing him down from this attack with the utmost care. No second thoughts about it.
Hopper lowered himself onto the bed, his knees aching and trembling from the added weight in his arms. He held Eddie in his lap, close against his chest, his heart wrenching a bit upon feeling how hard he was shaking, and swearing the younger man’s heart was beating so fast, he could feel it, too. “Remember what I said, Eddie, you’re safe here. I need you to focus and breathe with me, okay?” He asked, tone firm but calm. Eddie kept his eyes clenched shut, face contorted in obvious discomfort as he struggled to breathe through his panicked sobs. On impulse he pounded weakly against Hopper’s chest.
Hopper pulled away gently, cupping both hands over Eddie’s feverish cheeks. “Eddie. Open your eyes. You’re safe, buddy, you’re here, in my cabin, with me…it’s Hopper, remember? We’re in my old bedroom, we’re just waiting for our friends and family to get back. There’s a storm, but the worst of it’s gone. Breathe with me, okay?” Hopper tried again, this time patiently trying to ground Eddie.
Slowly, big brown eyes, seemingly made bigger by the fat tears welling up in them, opened. Tears spilled down his cheeks and onto Hopper’s hands as he met the older man’s gaze, shakily imitating the in and out breathing motions of his mouth.
Hopper removed a hand from Eddie’s cheek and ran it gently up and down his back, noting that this must be working, as the shaking had almost totally subsided, already. “Ohh, there’s a good boy. Just keep it up, you’re doin’ so good. Almost through it.” Hopper whispered soothingly, pressing his cheek to the top of Eddie’s head, as a few remaining, tearful hiccups escaped Eddie, who was once more clinging to his temporary guardian’s shirt, forehead lightly pressed into his chest.
It took minutes for Eddie’s breathing and heartbeat to stabilize, and the overpowering episode had clearly taken a lot out of him. Hopper sat on the edge of the bed, Eddie still held close in his lap, drifting in and out of exhausted sleep. He stared blankly at the pouring rain outside. The thunder had passed on, but the rain still lingered, softly tapping against the ramshackle roof and flittering serenely through the leaves on the many trees that surrounded them. His legs twinged and sizzled with the agonizing discomfort of falling asleep beneath Eddie’s full, limp weight sagging against them, but he didn’t care move.
He listened to Eddie’s steadied breathing and impulsively ran a hand through his long curls. It’d been an age since he had to comfort a child (though the young adult in his lap at the moment could hardly be considered such) but Elle, and his late daughter Sara had given him at least a bit of practice.
He remembered the day his old war and drinking buddy, Wayne Munson appeared back in Hawkins after nearly a month of unexpected absence. — It was the Summer of 1973, and Wayne had travelled to Halliard several miles away to bid a final farewell to his little sister.
Georgiana, “Georgie,” as she was affectionately called by her loved ones, had been battling a particularly aggressive pneumonia for months, aggravated by a crippling depression following the death of her young husband just a few years prior. Everyone in Wayne’s circle was kept apprised of the young woman’s deteriorating condition, but what baffled everyone in Hawkins was how he just so casually happened to gloss over the fact that there was a child in the mix.
Hopper remembered standing with his wife and infant daughter outside of Melvald’s General Store when Wayne pulled up in his beat up old pickup, an unfamiliar little person seated next to him. Short, dark brown curls hanging in a soft curtain over his downward-cast eyes.
“Well c’mon boy, come out and say hello to my friend here.” Wayne gently prodded, holding the rusted door open for the young boy. The Hoppers approached with uncertain stares. Mrs. Hopper smiling kindly at the seven year old, while Jim stared at his friend, mouth slightly agape and brows furrowed in confusion. Wayne clapped a hand against the child’s slumped shoulders. “This is my nephew, Eddie. He’s uh…he’s gonna be stayin’ with me, from now on.” Wayne smiled as best as he could, but given his solemn tone and recent news, Hopper was able to put two-and-two together fairly quickly. He sighed remorsefully.
“This here is Jim Hopper, he’s the Chief of Police here in Hawkins, very important job!” Wayne said, as Hopper removed his hat and knelt down to meet the boy’s gaze. He extended a hand. “Chief Hopper, nice to meet you, Eddie.” With that, the child raised his head, and the policeman was met with the widest brown eyes he’d ever seen. They looked even wider considering they were so glassy from crying. Little Eddie took his hand and offered a weak shake. “Quite a grip you got there, kid.” Eddie shied away from the compliment and rushed to hide behind Wayne’s legs. His uncle chuckled, reaching down to stroke his hair.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Poor kid’s still a little skittish with uh…everythin’ goin’ on. Lots of changes.” Hopper placed a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about Georgie. If you need anything, you know where to call.” He offered in a whisper, patting his shoulder before replacing his hat, and tipping the brim. “We’ll be seein’ you. Welcome to Hawkins, Eddie! You better behave yourself, I don’t wanna catch you in the back of my squad car!” Hopper joked, placing a kiss to his wife’s cheek as they walked away.
As it so happened, Hopper did in fact get Eddie in the back of his squad car a few years down the road. Several times, in fact. It was mostly petty offenses. His drug dealing, vandalism, a fight or two with some of the jocks at school who just wouldn’t give him a break, and most frequently noise complaints. ALWAYS with the noise complaints! Not as if Forest Hills Trailer Park was ever too peaceful, to begin with. — And every time, Wayne was there to bail him out and back him up. Hopper knew he wasn’t a ‘bad’ kid, but he sure as hell made some more than questionable choices, and established quite an unsavory reputation. Punk. Rebel. Degenerate. Trash. Thug. Criminal. Freak…
And now, the town ‘freak’ was sat half asleep, cradled in his lap. As small, needy and vulnerable as he was on the day he first arrived in Hawkins. It’s strange how life has a way of bringing things back, nearly full-circle like that.
Eddie lightly pushed away from Hopper’s chest, staring up at him with those same huge brown eyes that stared up at him some thirteen years ago. “Sorry.” He said weakly, Hopper shook his head. “No, don’t apologize, kid.” He grumbled, glad to let Eddie slide off of him and give his legs some relief. He clapped a hand firmly against his back, Eddie winced slightly as his injuries were still on the mend. “Sorry…You didn’t do anything wrong, I just heard all that noise, and y’know with everything going on, I was just…making sure you were okay.” Hopper replied. Eddie nodded silently, and the pair stared out at the rain, finally beginning to taper off as darkness fell.
Eddie caught sight of a small patch of red seeping through the lower left side of his shirt. “Oh shit…” He breathed quietly, Hopper noticed immediately and in a surge of what he could only estimate was ‘fatherly instinct,’ he reached over and gently lifted Eddie’s shirt. “Looks like you were really up against it, back there…” He muttered, gesturing for Eddie to hold the shirt up so he could undo the bandages and assess the damage. Eddie’s torso felt lighter as the tightly wound cloth loosened and slid down. Sure enough, he’d torn a couple stitches just above the hip, but thankfully nothing too serious.
“Okay, let’s go get this patched up.” Hopper ordered softly, getting up to rummage through the dresser drawers. He pulled out a bright yellow tee shirt with a bright red ‘Benny’s Diner’ logo on it. He offered a cocky smile to the usually black-clad Eddie, who looked something less than amused, but, these days, everyone in the cramped and cobbled-together cabin was learning fast that beggars can’t be choosers.
Eddie sat up on the countertop, wincing every now and again as Hopper, with surprising skill and precision, stitched up the little hole in Eddie’s side. He was more than relieved when he noticed the man sit the needle and embroidery floss down, releasing a long-held breath. Hopper dipped a cloth in a bowl of hot, soapy water and gingerly patted his work clean, before applying some antiseptic and placing a gauze pad over it. “Okay, arms up.” He ordered, wrapping some fresh bandages around his torso, and pinning them in place. “Thanks.” Eddie said, pulling the bright and gaudy shirt over his head. “Yeah, don’t mention it, kid.” Hopper replied, lifting the younger man up and placing him on his feet, so as to avoid another injury strain.
“Looks like the rain’s stopped.” Eddie pointed out, noting the odd but welcomed air of silence that had fallen over the outside. “Yeah.” Hopper turned to Eddie. “You uh, like hot chocolate?”
Eddie pulled a chair over to the counter. Wrapped up in a quilt from the bedroom, he watched tiredly as his anointed caretaker slowly stirred a small pot of milk over the newly repaired stovetop. He eyed the empty carton sitting at the top of the trash can and half-wondered if the kids would be furious with him when they found out they’d all be eating dry cereal the next morning.
“You ever get those episodes before now?” Hopper asked, cutting right to the chase. Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Well…yes and no, I guess. I used to get nightmares all the time, the first few months I lived with my uncle. After my mom died. But…they kinda went away after awhile, other than a few incidents. But…but after we got back from…‘down there…’ I-I don’t think I’ve gotten a solid night’s sleep, since. It’s not always THIS bad, but…it’s always on my mind.” Eddie confessed.
Hopper nodded, pouring the hot milk into a pair of mugs sitting on the counter nearby. “Welp, one thing I can tell you for sure is that, that, was no regular nightmare.” Eddie perked up a little, seeming intrigued. Hopper continued, keeping his concentration on the powered hot chocolate mix he measured out from the tin, carefully stirring it into each mug. “Some people call it a ‘walking nightmare,’ some call it ‘shell shock,’ and some people have different names for it, entirely, but, I’ve seen it before. After ‘Nam.” Hopper said, sliding one of the piping hot drinks Eddie’s way. “Y’see kid, when you go through a trauma like, war, or death, or abuse, or…fighting crazy monsters from some messed up alternate dimension, it takes more outta you than you realize, in the moment. Most people don’t know they’re REALLY messed up until after everything’s settled down again, and they’re tryin’ to get back to normal.” Eddie nodded, taking the information in. Hopper seemed impressed at how the young punk held fast to every word he said; for all the run-ins they’d had in the past, he was certain this was one of the ONLY times that Eddie appeared to be genuinely receptive to his advice.
“Stupid question I guess, but…does it ever, y’know…get easier?” Eddie asked unsteadily. Hopper’s throat tightened as he took in the sight of the wide-eyed boy, wrapped up in the quilt and sipping hot chocolate. — Freshly into adulthood, already carrying the weight of traumas on his shoulders that never should’ve been his to bear in the first place, and now grappling with things that he knew for sure, never really got easier, let alone went away. He didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this.
Hopper pursed his lips and shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie to you, kid, no, it doesn’t. You just…you grow around it. That’s how you move forward. All of your experiences, good, bad, or indifferent, are a part of you, but they don’t define you, and you sure as shit can’t let them control you. It doesn’t go away, you can’t change the past, but it WILL get better.” Eddie took in the former cop’s words as he took in a deep, sweetly comforting sip of hot chocolate.
Eddie smirked. “Hey. You remember that time you caught me behind the library?” Eddie chuckled as he watched the gears turn in Hopper’s head. “Library?” He questioned under his breath. Eddie laughed as the man’s eyes shot wide open, and he slapped the countertop zealously before pointing at the young man. “YES. Oh my God, March of ’79! First day of Spring break and your stupid ass was dealin’ out in the open!” Eddie cupped a hand to his laughing mouth. “You pulled up right as I was tryin’ my DAMNDEST to hop that stupid fence! My shoelaces got stuck and you pulled me down so hard, my stash AND money fell out!” “Landed dead on the hood of my fuckin’ squad car! And you STILL tried to deny it!” Hopper guffawed. The pair traded stories of their run-ins together, mostly laced with fondness and humor at the past, and how much and how little they’d changed. Neither one noticed the approaching headlights twinkling through the forest leaves.
“Knock-knock!” Max’s voice rang out sharply through the cabin, following the resounding and unintentional ‘slam’ of the heavy front door against the wall. “JESUS!” Both men exclaimed, quickly collecting themselves when they noticed the parade of teenagers striding in, soaking wet, but victorious, with bags and boxes in hand.
Elle sat a box of blankets on the floor and approached Hopper with a smile, never tiring of wrapping her arms around him. “Hey kiddo.” He greeted, kissing the top of her buzzed head. “Hi.” She smiled, before turning to Eddie. “Hey.” He said flatly, briefly raising his mug. “Are you feeling better?” She asked, sensing that something had happened in their absence. Eddie smiled. “Never better, kid.”
Hopper rose to compliment the group, noting the impressive haul that now littered the cabin floor. “Well, looks like a productive outing, everyone looks alive and in one piece!” He kept his gazed fixed on the front door, until Joyce strode in, gently enveloping her in a hug. “Y’see that?” She whispered, pointing to the jovial and soaking wet group, rummaging through their spoils. “Most worthwhile outing in a minute, hmm? And just who LEAD that outing?” She teased, Hopper rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead. “Alright, alright, you did good. Better than good, looks like we’ll be set for a bit. What all’d you find?” He asked, kneeling down to inspect the boxes himself.
Wayne snuck up from behind and roughly patted Hopper’s shoulders. “Eh, some blankets, clothes, a couple medical supplies here n’ there, but mostly cans. Eddie n’ I are plenty experienced with canned food, I’m sure we can whip somethin’ up!” He smiled optimistically. Hopper nodded, pushing himself back upright with a bit of strain on his already tired knees.
“So, this one give you any trouble?” Wayne teased, wrapping an arm around his nephew, who merely rolled his eyes in response. “Not a bit! A perfect little angel.” The former officer teased with a smirk, Wayne laughed. “As always.” He said, giving Eddie’s shoulders a gentle jostle.
Hopper gave a few extra moments of thought before admitting to Wayne what had happened in his absence, but he figured Eddie’s guardian had a right to know, so it wouldn’t sneak up and startle him if it happened again. “He uh…he had a bit of an…episode earlier, just, comin’ down off of everything that happened, but he’s solid, he—“Well, did you sing ‘Vienna’ for him?” Joyce interjected, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Eddie’s eyes widened, and he nearly choked on that last sip of hot chocolate.
“Excuse me?” Dustin chortled, Eddie buried his face in his hands, face hot with embarrassment. “‘Vienna,’ like, the Billy Joel song?” Max smirked. “Hold on, there crazy child! You’re so adventurous and juvenile!” Lucas teased, leaning into Max as he sang. “Oh my God! Those aren’t even the right—“ Eddie threw his arms up in surrender before he accidentally put the final nail in the coffin. “Edward Munson, that is the LEAST metal thing I have EVER heard. And from my DUNGEON MASTER no less!” Dustin teased. “For SHAME!” Mike joined in. Steve stepped forward, placing a hand on Mike and Dustin's shoulders. "Now come on guys, Joyce is just doing her job...making sure Hop remembered to sing the baby to sleep!" More uproarious laughter erupted from the already unruly bunch. "I hate all of you. Seriously." Eddie snarked, running a hand roughly through his long curls before shooting double middle fingers furiously at the group.
Wayne sat back and smiled warmly as Eddie bantered on with his newfound friends. Hopper stood next to him, offering a cigarette. “So, he’s got a touch of ‘shock’ does he?” The elder of the two asked sympathetically. Hopper nodded, exhaling a puff of acrid smoke. “Yeah, but he’s a strong kid, and he’s got a lot of people in his corner these days. He’ll be fine, he’ll be just fine.” Hopper promised, patting Wayne’s shoulder as he watched the endearing yet chaotic scene unfold.
Indeed, Eddie Munson wasn’t the frightened little boy, or wayward teenager he’d come to know before. He was growing into someone entirely new. Entirely, and confidently his own.