Chapter Text
Uncle Wayne always told Eddie, "hurt people hurt people," and that he should treat bullies with some compassion, but also know when to fight back. Eddie honestly can't tell if it's great advice or a terrible one--because it's Eddie's senior year, and he's still being bullied, a lot.
It's usually Tommy H, Carol, and some douchbag named Frank. Sometimes they’ll just start something for no good reason; but when did bullies ever have a good reason to bother someone? They pick on him for every little thing. For "looking at them" - or just spacing out whilst facing in their general direction. For failing classes. For Hellfire. For his Hair. Rings. For smiling.
Eddie doesn’t usually engage, but sometimes he can’t help but bite back with a "Fuck off!" or two, and then he’s dragged somewhere, sometimes in the parking lot or those dark corners around the school, being shoved against the wall, punched, or kicked. They always leave him heaving and bloodied on the ground, laughing.
No one helps. No one even bothers to intervene all that much. Once or twice, he sees Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler with the bullies, and they give a weak ass "hey, come on, guys," but. But they don't actually stop them from dragging Eddie to the spots, where they hurt him, mock him. And why should they help, anyway - they're the same sort of people. They're all the same.
It's a routine, of sorts. Eddie picks himself up from the ground and wipes off the blood on his sleeves, and takes a deep breath. He's going to be okay. No scars or wounds last long enough, and he knows all and any trace of bullying should be gone overnight, maybe even before Wayne comes home late at night after his shift. Wayne rarely sees him with cuts or bruises. But he knows, Eddie can tell, because there's only so much time to get rid of the blood stains.
He doesn't think twice about healing fast. It's just the way a human body works. There's nothing to think about. He takes some hits, shows up to school the next day without any proof of violence inflicted, then gets hit again a few days later. Lather, rinse, repeat.
God, he can't wait to get out of this shithole town. He's hoping very much hoping to graduate and get the fuck out of here, but the prospects don't look great for him. Mrs O'Donnell isn't taking too kindly to his test scores. If he scrapes a D minus this semester, he'd be lucky.
-
It's November. Walking down the school hallways amongst a crowd of hormonal teens is always a drag, and he tries to push down the stupid, senseless cloud that's always attached to the lot of them. From time to time, there are a few people who walk around with a heavier weight on their shoulders, heavier than usual, but Eddie doesn't know what to do with it. He ignores them. He's always ignored them.
Until, one day, he sees Jonathan Byers putting up a poster on the bulletin board. Eddie leans against the lockers to take it in. The figurative weight is crushing Jonathan, inside and out, Eddie can feel it. It's different from any other clown that he's seen, and for a moment, Eddie considers approaching him. Nancy Wheeler beats him to it; she and Jonathan have a short conversation. Amiable. A few feet away, Harrington and his usual goonies are staring at them suspiciously. Tommy is the first to notice Eddie's attention on them, and he barks, "what are you looking at, freak?" And Eddie has to remember how to put one foot after the other as he walks away as quickly as he could. He really doesn't want to show up to Chemistry in bruises. He can't skip it, either. He's barely passing that class.
Later, Eddie goes back to the bulletin board. It's a missing person poster, with two pictures of a small boy. It reads:
HAVE YOU SEEN ME?
Will Byers Aged 12 4'9"
Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, 73 lbs
Last Seen Wearing Jeans,
Blue Plaid Shirt, White T-Shirt
Red Down Vest with tan stripe
Carrying Black Canvas Day Bag
Any information call Joyce Byers
555-0141
The small boy in the pictures is smiling. Age 12, the poster says. Kid has a ridiculous bowl cut and bangs, but he looks happy, he looks adorable.
Eddie doesn't remember much about his life at age 12. He didn't have a bowl cut, though; that much he knows. His own hair was buzzed down to his scalp. He hated how it felt, how it looked, and never had a proper haircut since, determined to grow it out as much as he can. Eddie looks down at his own hair, now way past down his shoulders, and twirls a finger around his curls, bringing it to his mouth. Maybe he should cut his bangs. Hmm.
There's a memorial for little Will Byers at school. A few days later, the Byers have a funeral for the boy. Jonathan hasn't been seen at school for several days.
Before Eddie can process any of this, Will Byers is apparently found alive. And just like that, the weirdest week of 1983 is over. The townspeople, initially upset and confused, seem to be moving on.
But Jonathan is never the same, now. Understandably so; he looks worse, more sullen than ever, and would often be seen whispering to Nancy Wheeler, both of them acting a lot more familiar and intimate than before. Eddie notices, from a reasonable distance - that the crushing distress that was once only hovering over Jonathan is now shared with Nancy.
The weirdest thing, in Eddie's opinion, is the change in Steve Harrington. Not that Eddie's been stalking him or anything - but Steve, once carefree, cheerful, and confident, now carries himself like a beaten-up dog with its tail between his hind legs. He has bad bruises on his face that last almost an entire week. If Eddie is a bit curious to know what happens, he doesn't trust himself to ask.
-
On the last day of the fall semester, Eddie heads to the bleachers outside to lick his wounds. The usual assholes found out that Eddie failed Mrs O'Donnell's class again, and taunted him, and maybe Eddie shouldn't have, but he shoved Tommy hard enough to lose his footing and fall on his ass. Eddie could only enjoy a small moment of satisfaction before Frank held him up against the brick wall between the gym buildings, and Tommy got up to beat the shit out of him. Fucking hell, that really hurt.
There's a reason that Eddie chose the spot underneath the bleachers to recover. There's no one around, not in this weather and not at this awkward hour between 6th and 7th period, and it's quiet. That day, however, Eddie's spot is taken, he realizes. Steve Harrington is sitting there, right on the stack of old class notebooks that Eddie himself had brought weeks ago as a makeshift seat so that his jeans won't get muddied. He guesses that Steve didn't want to ruin his jeans, either, but Eddie would very much like his seat back, thank you. He tries to tell Steve so, but Steve is already looking at him, on high alert, vigilant and afraid, getting up to his feet in (what Eddie thinks) is a fight stance. He can practically hear the gears in Steve's head turning, registering Eddie as not a threat, Steve relaxes a bit, sinking back down on the notebooks. He throws his back and heaves a big, shaky sigh. Relief, Eddie senses, but Steve looks like he's on the verge of crying, his knuckles white.
Almost forgetting his own wounds, Eddie approaches Steve like he’s going towards a feral cat or something, and asks, "hey man, you okay?"
And Steve just looks at him. This may be the first time they even looked at each other properly. Steve just keeps staring at him wordlessly, trying to control his breathing. It's a bad idea, Eddie knows, and he should probably just ditch Steve and find another spot to mope, but Eddie wants to ask. He can't just leave Steve in this state.
"I don't mean to pry, but you look fucking awful," Eddie tries again, this time with a little bit of humor in his tone.
Steve gives him a quick once-over and scoffs. "You look worse, to be honest," he says, not unkindly.
"Oh, this? This is nothing," Eddie shrugs.
Steve squints his eyes, as if that would help him see Eddie's wounds clearer, or something. "That doesn't look like nothing…. "
Eddie doesn't bother explaining. Steve probably already knows. Hell, everyone knows that Eddie Munson is the town punching bag. So he just throws his hands in the air, and says, "well, why don’t you then tell your pals to stay the fuck away from me, Harrington. 'Cause that would be just, grand." Steve’s eyes fall. Eddie doesn't really want to push further. It's a lost cause, Eddie knows, even if Steve seems to exude something akin to remorse. This is King Steve here, not your average nobody.
"Well, when you see me tomorrow, you won’t even be able to tell," Eddie says lightly. He's already given up on asking for his seat. Steve doesn't look like he's going to get up anytime soon.
"I won’t see you until next year, though," Steve says.
"Uh-" Eddie frowns, then remembers. It is the last day of the fall semester. "Right, haha. How did I forget. Silly me. I'll see you next year, then, your majesty. Fare thee well," he says with a dramatic bow, mentally going over other spots where he could lay low for an hour or so. Maybe he should just skip 7th period.
But Steve isn’t laughing. He's burying his palm in his eyes and rubbing hard. It's a bit concerning. Eddie asks again. "You sure you're okay?"
"I don't know, man," Steve exhales, keeping his mouth slightly agape like he wants to say more. Whatever it is, Eddie doesn't think it's the usual 'fuck off' or whatever that Tommy and others spit at him.
Eddie steps a little closer, cautiously, and examines Steve's face. He looks genuinely tired. Awful. Eddie wants to ask, there are so many questions on the tip of his tongue, but it feels like he's going to break Steve if he asks anything else.
So Eddie just says, "yea, been there too, I get it." with finality. He's done more than he could for Steve. He tried, and he asked, although it's against his principle to ask. Time to find another spot, stat.
As he walks away, he pretends not to hear Steve muttering under his breath, "I don't think you do."
-
Ever since that weird day under the bleachers– as the spring semester starts -- Steve acknowledges Eddie in the hallways. Not in any conspicuous way, of course. He’d sometimes just meet Eddie's eyes and nod, or raise both of his eyebrows in greeting. Sometimes it’s a small smile. Something starts to stir in Eddie's heart whenever he runs into Steve. Neither of them initiates a conversation for the whole spring semester.
Steve is never seen again with Tommy H, Carol, or Frank, nor do the bullies ever approach Eddie too close. Turns out, not being bullied and treated like a punching bag for a change is fucking incredible. Eddie wonders, sometimes, if Steve really told them to stay the fuck away from him. He can hope.
Still, Eddie doesn’t graduate that year. He’s skipped too many classes and failed too many classes. It’s not his fault that he can’t fucking focus with all these silent interactions with Steve in between classes. Ms Kelley, the school counselor, calls Eddie one day to her office, and tells him that he just has to pass three classes - Chemistry, Calculus, and English. and that’s it. Just three classes. He could totally do this and graduate by the end of Fall 1984, or something. Ms Kelley assures him that he could do it. The thing is, it's not that the classes are hard, or he has any trouble learning. He’s just disinterested. He never tells Ms Kelley any of this. She does bring up that she noticed that the bullying has stopped. Now, that's something Eddie can appreciate. When she asks if something's changed, or if he's done something for it to stop, Eddie just grins and says, "intervention, maybe." If Steve had anything to do with it, that's between him and Steve.
He's on his way to the parking lot when he sees Jonathan angrily ripping a piece of paper from a utility pole, crumbling it up, and throwing it in a nearby bin. Why he always sees Jonathan with a piece of paper, he doesn't know, but his curiosity wins over and he's running to the bin to see what it was. It's page from a newspaper featuring Will Byers, titled "THE BOY WHO CAME BACK TO LIFE," except there are Xs on the picture of Will's face over the eyes, along with handwritten letters that reads "ZOMBIE BOY."
Eddie's always known that people can be cruel, but this is another level - this newspaper is from last November, almost 7 months ago. Did people keep the papers just to cut out this clipping, only to taunt the Byers like this? He looks at the picture again, and glances at Jonathan, who is now shutting the door to his car. Jonathan's gloomy demeanor hasn't gotten any better. Eddie pockets the clipping and mutters to himself: zombie boy. Something about that sounds - well, metal as fuck, but - familiar. Not in a great way. His head is tingling with an uncomfortable sensation. He decides to file it away to think about it later.