Work Text:
From the day of the rift, you were never able to say that Eddie Munson had died; he was just missing. When Dustin Henderson cried to Wayne and Wayne had cried to you, you held the older man in your arms, tears streaming down your face. But he was just missing.
As the posters you hung were vandalized and torn down, you'd take slow, shaking breaths before posting new ones, because he was just missing.
At the funeral you numbly shook hands and accepted hugs, hardly listening to their condolences because he was just missing.
Even now, as you sit next to the simple headstone, running your fingers along the carved letters of his name, you manage to think "You're just missing. You have to just be missing. You promised that we'd get out together, Munson."
As the rain began to fall it camouflaged your freshly fallen tears. All you could do was hug the stone tightly, hoping you'd feel his arms around you like before. After all, he was just missing.