Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Author's Notes: A twist of events between Seasons 2 and 3, with some foreshadowing to Season 4. Original characters, slow burning, mostly fluff. Just an author coping with grief.

  001.

It was like the air was telling Hawkins that something was coming, something that would change the town.

The twisted heat died, inviting the crisp wind of autumn, and it was only the week after Labor Day. A swift drop in humidity made the air calm compared to the week prior, the elevated levels paired with summer carnivals and block parties of the modest town, and beckoned the season to come. Although atypical, it was comforting to Anna Winterfield, who was previously fighting through sweat and heat that resided on her father’s estate in Key West. The loud, vivacious colors of the South subdued in this part of the country, evoking a breath of relief from the teen as she slid hangers one-by-one in her closet. The battle of thick, black eyeliner to the tropics was over.

Anna was going to try this school year. Her pageant queen mother, Miss Indiana 1967 herself, had a conversation with her two weeks prior that she deemed “serious”.

“Sweetheart,” her mother sighed, her perfectly manicured hand toying with the comforter on Anna’s vacation home bed. “I know you want to go to college. I know you want to be a serious writer. But this—” The same hand waved over to her daughter’s wardrobe, droned in black and chains, a stark contradiction to the woman who birthed her, “—is not going to be inviting to colleges. It’s going to be difficult for publishers to take you seriously.” Her symmetrical eyebrows furrowed softly, her attempt at empathy.

Anna couldn‘t make eye contact. There had to be some truth to it, she pondered. In that moment, she recalled moments from her childhood: the schoolgirl jokes of being called “Morticia”, the mocking laughter, the glares and head shakes she would receive when she attempted to get close to anyone in her youth. She had always been different, even when she tried to be like everyone else. She couldn’t even complete kindergarten in the same school because of her so-called “gifts,” which were always framed as a curse to her; hereditary gifts, given by her maternal grandmother and further in time, her maternal great-great grandmother, that put her in touch with life beyond the physical.

Anna rejected the thought with a swift shake of her head as her mother examined her in the lightened vacation home that did not fit her. As if to efface her childhood, she succumbed to her mother’s request.

“Okay, Mom,” she murmured, breaking her gaze from the wrinkled fabric. She mustered up the courage to meet her mother’s All-American eyes. “I can try.”

The furrow became a raise of brows, paired with a relieved smile. “Oh honey, you’re going to look beautiful,” her mother gasped, scurrying off the comforter into her doorway. “I have some catalogs we can look at together!” Before Anna could respond, her mother disappeared down the hallway.

This conversation resulted in her current ensemble, a compromise between the parties: A knitted black cardigan, a white collared shirt that “defined her neck,” as her mother put it; a black-and-tan checkered skirt, down to sheer black stockings and chunky-heeled boots of the same shade. She was going to try, she recalled as she examined herself in her full-length mirror. Trying different garments didn’t necessarily mean trying different colors.

The geometric shapes that traced her eyelids were gone. Her mother provided a tutorial on the latest eyeshadow trend: a shimmery, muted mauve on the lid, some white near the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks, typically bare and bright, had a pop of peach, matching her lip color. Her dark hair, known for its full tease in every which way, was calm, combed, and slightly perked at base of her head. Anna fully examined her face before heaving an exasperated sigh at her new appearance. “Happy first day of senior year,” she mumbled to her reflection before departing. Ivy was going to flip.

She raced down the main stairwell, hoping she could jet out the double-doors without her mother catching her. She pulled her leather knapsack from the coat closet in the entryway, and if she could close it softly enough, maybe her mother would still think she was upstairs. “Honey!” her mother exclaimed from behind, making Anna jump in her own skin. “Oh, I must look at you before you go.”

Her mother turned her by her fragile shoulders and peered at her features, proud of the monster she created, as Anna interpreted. “Oh, you look fabulous,” the beauty queen said approvingly, squeezing her daughter lovingly by the shoulders. “Now let me just get my camera…”

“Mom, no. I really have to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Anna, it’ll take one second—”

“Bye, Mom. See you after school.” The right-side door shut. Freedom was only down the pathway, past the gate, and to the left.

By the time she reached the picketed gate, she could hear her mother vaguely call out to her about having a great first day of school. How great could it possibly be?, she wondered. The girl who was going from “Morticia” turned into a princess over one summer, and she imagined the student body was going to either burst at the seams laughing or actively bring her evolution to her attention, or a combination of both. Especially…

“Y’know something,” her friend’s voice can be heard from the perpendicular meeting of sidewalk. She was attending to the cover of a sepia book, flipping the binding to the black in her fishnet-covered hands. As she approached Anna, dressed in a layer of obsidian, glistening silver chains rattling on her neck as she walked, she continued, “I’m very surprised Mrs. O’Donnell picked Hemingway as part of our summer reading list. I mean, the guy’s like a serial alcoholic and pretty faithless all around, you think she should have picked someone who was a little more—”  

The pause in her voice. The stark stop. The look.

“Who did this to you?” she demanded, dropping The Sun Also Rises to examine her friend’s face in her hands. Anna could have been an atom under a microscope. She moved her neck and scanned Anna from cheek to cheek, horrified at her mother’s creation. If Ivy responded like this, everyone else was sure to have a more amplified reaction.

“Ivy, I’m fine,” Anna insisted softly. “I talked to my mom, and we decided…”

“So you caved?!” her friend hissed, pushing her chin away from her palms. “What’s next, a diet? Cosmo? A pageant?”

“Christ, is it really that bad?” Anna spat, her eyes glued the toes of her boots. “This is what a ‘compromise’ looked like. I didn’t let her get her way completely.”

Ivy recognized her best friend’s disdain. She went through this journey with her throughout middle school into their early high school years. Together, they trekked through the hallways, having each other for support with passing comments and disapproving looks from school staff. Since 5^th grade, Ivy remembered passive aggressive comments Mrs. Winterfield made toward Anna, her look of disgust when she discovered Anna’s Siouxsie and the Banshees discography, one of her “demonic” fashion icons. And she was always there, hugging Anna when she cried, listening to her fears about people not understanding, feeling her constant rejection and loneliness. This wasn’t a time to abandon her now.

“Look…” Ivy leveled. She picked up her copy of The Sun Also Rises and stuffed it into her carrier bag. “It’s not terrible. I overreacted. I’m sorry.” She wrapped an arm around Anna’s knitted shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk through the quiet upper middle-class portion of Hawkins. “We can definitely fix it when we get to school. I’ve got plenty of eyeliner, and I always bring my teasing comb.”

“No, no, no,” Anna protested flatly, her right hand reaching for her temples and rubbing her forehead slightly. “Let me do this. I said I’d try. If it gets out of hand, I can change. But let me just try.” She dropped her hand and turned to her friend, her gaze serious. “Once we get to New York, I promise, the armor comes back out.” She gestured to Ivy’s chains, her eyes softening.

Ivy shook her head, her raven locks frozen in place. “You’re too much for me, Winterfield,” she chuckled. “I’m not sure what you’d do without me.”

“Me neither.”

As they walked, a leaf fell before them in solitude. A cold puff of air danced through Anna’s loose locks. Things in Hawkins were changing.

---

Hawkins High School was a jungle mounted on a dirtied hill. Its population seem to double this year, despite the stories of the missing Will Byers, who rose from the dead after a very public funeral. Anna had overheard talks from her investor father about an upcoming “super mall” opening in the summer of ’85, attracting the likes of bankers, architects, and relators into the area. The town was looking for a distraction from tragedy, and what better way to deflect than a shopping spree?

Anna paused at the mouth of the platform where the path to the Middle School and High School met. She scanned the parking lot, counting each yellow school bus that pulled into the vicinity with loud, cheering teenagers. A crowd of green-and-yellow jackets scurried out as the creaky bus doors squeaked opened positioned about twelve feet in front of her, cueing Anna to avert her gaze to her boots again.

“Anna?” Ivy inquired, waving her hand over Anna’s vision. “You ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Anna muttered. Ivy shared a half-smile and locked arms with her companion.

“You’re going to be fine,” she assured Anna as they marched toward the awning of the institution. “We’re witches, remember? One stupid word from any jock or cheerleader, and they’ll be hexed for life.” Ivy winked a blackened eye, her cat-like hues glistening mischievously. “Just another school year.”

Anna chuckled and gripped onto Ivy’s arm. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”

“As always,” Ivy emphasized, overshadowed by the awning at the school’s entrance. Anna released her grip to enter through the double-doors of the building into the flood of the masses. Students traveled in all directions, meeting peers at their lockers, some hugging as a greeting after summer break. A group of what appeared to be freshman looked left to right on each numbered classroom door, one of them pausing to inquire to a passerby where room 314 was.

He was meek-looking, with thick framed glasses and curly auburn locks. The passerby scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and braced him with ice cold silence. Just the beginning for you, Anna observed mentally.

“So I’m off to my locker,” Ivy announced, revealing an inked scribble on her palm. “I’m at—” she referenced her palm, “—262. You?”

“Oh, uh,” Anna hesitated. She knew her entire schedule by heart until this moment. She whipped her knapsack from her back, pulling out a dark purple folder with documents related to the start of the school year. A yellow printed guide revealed the answer. “344. Hallway down from you, it seems.”

“Yeah. So … 3^rd period English. O’Donnell?”

Anna referenced her schedule once more. “Yes, same. See you then?”

“I’d hope so,” Ivy winked before pivoting and cascading her ankle-length darkened skirt behind her, like a demon sprawling from her back. “Stay safe out there!” she called from over her shoulder.

“Yeah, you too,” Anna mumbled, as her friend was already out of ear shot. She remained frozen in place, watching her friend become a shadow into the field of students. A jock standing at his locker with his cheerleader girlfriend made a snide comment to Ivy that Anna could not hear, but could see her feral friend hiss in retaliation before stomping down the rest of the hall. Sometimes she wished she was as outspoken as Ivy.

The morning announcement jingle shook her from her thoughts. “Good morning, Hawkins High School!” the speaker blared a happy-go-lucky feminine voice. “Welcome to the ’84-’85 school year. We hope you had an amazing summer. Some announcements…”

Anna blocked out the announcements as she turned her heel to approach an adjacent hallway that housed her locker. She couldn’t help but notice the stares. With each passing step, she became more self-conscious, shrinking in her sweater. To her left, she noticed two girls who were in her grade look her up-and-down and murmur to each other. As she continued, boys dressed in polos nodded approvingly on her right, sharing mild catcalls in her direction. She could feel herself blush and scurried down the remainder of the hallway, turning right at the end.

“…and finally, if Anna Winterfield could come to Principal Higgins’ office as soon as possible. Anna Winterfield to Principal Higgins’ office, please,” the speaker echoed down the hall. Anna’s crystal eyes widened at recognition of her name. She shrugged her shoulders inward, feeling her knapsack press into her spine. She paused mid-step, frozen in place.

What could Principal Higgins possibly want from her? Last year, she sheepishly approached him regarding a recommendation for college entry in the spring. He looked over her record and decided that, at the time, she did not have enough credentials in the area of community service to justify the recommendation. He suggested some soup kitchen volunteer work in the downtown area of Hawkins and said he would reconsider the recommendation come the fall. She knew his polite rejection of his way of stating he didn’t approve of how she dressed and what she presented, especially after all the talk of Hawkins being a “cursed town” emerged through gossip with the Byers’ boy’s reemergence. Indiana’s Principal of the Year couldn’t be associated with someone who could be defined as a potential culprit of his kidnapping based on dress alone.

After what felt like eternity, Anna found her locker and propped her hand to the corresponding combination on her schedule. She developed several scenarios in her head regarding what the conversation between Principal Higgins and she would be before she heard a long whistle within earshot of her locker. The whistle concluded with a chorus of snickers.

“Whoa, Morticia,” his deep voice exclaimed mockingly. “I can’t believe my eyes!” The dreadfully familiar face thrust himself back into his comrades, as if imitating a heart attack. “Did you … did you get a head transplant over the summer?” He sneered, a glimpse of his pearly whites glimmering in her direction. His antics were only reinforced by the continuous snickering of Chance, Patrick, and Andy, who were in close proximity.

“Did you have a nice summer, Jason?” Anna asked flatly, feigning interest. She was more focused on the combination to lock her now-shut locker than to entertain the conversation.

“Oh, it was great, actually,” Jason replied, sharing the same feigned optimism. “Took out the boat, had a few beers. It was quite relaxing.” He lifted his shoulders nonchalantly and looked toward his onlookers for approval. How could a junior already have his head so full? It was salient that Jason Carver was the poster child of what every girl wanted and what every guy wanted to be in the high school food chain: Handsome, popular, charismatic, athletic. But his hot-headedness and ego would be his downfall, Anna noted, as she silently recalled a time that he lunged toward Ivy for striking back with a “small package” joke last fall.

“Excuse me,” Anna groaned as she shoved past him and his posse, only to be followed with him as lead.

“You know,” he continued, blatantly disregarding her need to leave the scene. “I heard that witches, back in like the 1600s, were rumored to have drunk the blood of infants to keep their youth.” Jason’s right shoulder aligned with Anna’s left as she walked, he linking his arms behind his back as he followed. “Is that what you and Ivy do in your spare time? Is that how you spent your summer vacation?”

Anna scoffed, but confirmed in that instant, she would make no hesitation to devour the infant of Jason Carver if it prevented him from growing up to be this juvenile. “It sounds like you’ve taken interest in folklore,” Anna passively commented, tightening her grip on her knapsack. “But that’s not true. Witches didn’t drink the blood of infants…”

As she neared the paneled sign that read “Principal’s Office” in stoic font, she felt something overwhelm her. In a moment of what seemed like possession, she pivoted on her heel and looked straight into Jason’s eyes. “They preferred athlete blood, particularly blood of basketball players.”

Jason jolted back, bewildered by her response. His surprise quickly turned into anger, his thick brows knitted together to retaliate. As he took a step forward, about to invade Anna’s personal space, a thick hand pounded belittled space between Anna and Jason. Anna looked up at the entity, who was about 7 or 8 inches taller than she, staring into the back of a head that housed wavy, unkept chocolate locks.

“Now, now, Jason,” the voice soothed in a condescending manner. His voice was gruff, but hid an edge of softness. “You don’t want to be witch food on the first day, do you?”

“What do you want, Freak?” Jason spat, more bewildered than before. Anna could not take her eyes off the glistening silver rings that were molded onto her savior’s hand.

“I want you,” her savior replied, tilting his head toward Jason’s posse, “and your buddies to run along and go do whatever you laundry basket-heads do. Something that doesn’t involve provoking Freaks.”

It took Anna a moment to register the name of the leather-wearing rescuer, but the “laundry basket-head” comment gave it away: Eddie Munson, second-time senior. Anna didn’t know much about him, other than knowing he skipped most of his classes, had a blazing rivalry with the basketball players, and had his own hoard of followers that he played Dungeons and Dragons with. This interaction completely contradicted his reputation, Anna decided.

The bell shrilled, indicating the start of first period, which startled all parties with the exception of Eddie. He remained calm, but firm, his hand remaining on the wall, his eyes fixed on Jason’s face.

Behind him, Andy held back Jason by his protruding shoulders, ready to fight. “It’s not worth it, man,” she could hear his friend murmur. “Let’s just go to class.”

“Good idea,” Eddie affirmed. He waited until the antagonists disappeared down the hallway before turning to Anna. Once they were gone, he rotated his frame. “You okay?” he inquired, his eyes averted from the bullies to her form. Anna didn’t think that Eddie “The Freak” Munson was capable of being this considerate.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Anna stammered, folding her lips into a straight line. “I could have totally handled that on my own,” she added quickly, avoiding his eyes to the door she was supposed to be past minutes ago.

“U-huh.”

Eddie released his arm, taking it to cross with the other. He wore a black T-shirt underneath his leather jacket, layered with a jean vest covered in DIY patches and pins. Anna recognized a “Mötorhead” patch above his left-side pocket.

Eddie followed Anna’s eyes to the door he had been blocking. “You goin’ in here?” he asked, offering the door. He moved aside and positioned his hand on the knob.

“Yeah. I was summoned,” Anna scoffed quietly, which evoked a wrinkled grin from Eddie. He shared a light laugh.

“Me too. I basically pay rent here,” he joked. Anna let down her guard a bit at his attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere. He opened the door for her, his secondary arm gesturing extravagantly for her to pass. “After you.”

“Thank you.” She curtsied slightly before passing. Before walking into the Principal’s Office, Anna caught a glimpse of Eddie’s eyes. His vision was nearly blocked by the placement of his frilled bangs, but she could have sworn she saw a soul in there. Maybe the “Freak” could be compassionate.

She inhaled, passing the wooden door to approach the secretary’s desk. Eddie, with a quick, “Hey, Gayle,” and wave of his hand in acknowledgement, made no attempt to formally sign in and entered Principal Higgins’ office immediately. “We meet again, Higgins!” Anna could hear his exclamation of faux enthusiasm. “Starting early this year, huh? What is it … 8:45 am on the first day back? Sounds like a new record to me.”

“Please sit, Mr. Munson,” was the principal’s stoic reply. He sounded tired and definitely had enough of the Munson antics. Within moments, the office door shut.

“He’ll be with you momentarily,” the secretary shared with Anna, who was too focused on the door. “Miss Winterfield?”

“Huh?” Anna turned to the woman named Gayle.

“Please take a seat. He’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Right. Thanks.”

As Anna approached a desolate chair in the reception area, she figured that maybe her new change in appearance could be positive. No one cared whether she had been bullied in the past. If it wasn’t for Ivy and her quick tongue, Anna would have just looked away and walked on, egging on the insults and laughter.

She felt change coming. The wind spoke to her this morning. Her clothes, her makeup, even the exaggerated response from the likes of Jason, who, as insulting as he tried to be, held a certain reverence in his gaze. Eddie, too, intervening the way he did – would she have mattered if she was in the same isolating garments from last year that labeled her unapproachable and unbothered?

Maybe it was best to not assume the worst. Maybe it was better to think that this could be positive.

Yeah, she thought, leaning her polished forehead back against the seat. Change can be good.

Author's Notes: Feedback is welcome. This is a slow one, guys. Patience is a virtue. ♡ I will try to post a chapter every Sunday.

Also, if there are any geographical inaccuracies or inaccuracies in the ST timeline, please let me know. I hyper-fixate on details. Thank you!

Chapter Text

002.
Spellbound

Anna closed her eyes, resting her lids in attempt to ease her scurrying thoughts. She had barely gotten sleep the night before, shuffling through possibilities surrounding her mother’s suggestion in changing her identity. As her eyes fluttered, her shoulders dropped in the armed waiting area chair, briefly relaxed. All of her doubts transitioned to recall minutes before in the hallway.

Eddie Munson, her so-called knight in shining armor—not that she needed one, but it was nice to remove the burden from herself for once—the same kid that would never show up to Mrs. O’Donnell’s World Literature class last year, the one who scrambled for a writing utensil or bare piece of lined paper for note-taking when he did take notes, taking the topics of the class as nonchalantly as walking from hallway to classroom, was in the most likely place at the most unlikely time. On occasion, he would reach over to touch Anna’s shoulder to inquire what would be on the next exam when he dozed through lessons. She, the only 11^th grader in the class, would sigh and showcase her notes to him, to which he would additionally ask for a medium to write the topics down on.

Anna lightly smiled to herself, as if having a sweet dream. She recalled him mumbling about the pointlessness of the class with more colorful language, his eyes racing from her notebook to his singular crumbled paper, his handwriting rushed and sloppy. The kid was crass, but he entertained Anna. That was probably the least popular opinion from the overall student body.

“Miss Winterfield.”

Anna gasped, whipping her hair up from the head of the chair, dark flyaway pieces of hair slightly blurring her vision. She tucked them in place, noting Principal Higgins standing in the doorway of his office, his left arm outstretched as a gesture for her entrance. “Please come in,” he continued, his voice flat and monotone.

Anna shuffled into the office, silently noting that she missed Eddie’s exit. She considered thanking him for helping her when she next saw him; that is, until she realized he was sitting in the far-left chair across from Principal Higgins’ desk.

“Hey,” he greeted mischievously, sharing a wave from where he sat with a wiggle of his fingers. The silver of his rings danced in a beam of sunlight that entered the window. “We’re having a party.”

“Not quite,” Principal Higgins cut off, shutting the door behind him. As he paced to his desk, his demeanor changed, presenting himself as gentle. A soft smile eclipsed on his worn face. “Anna,” he stated as he sat, pushing his thick leather chair into the chestnut pillars of his desk. “It’s great to see you. It seems that a lot has changed during the summer,” he mentioned, waving his hands toward her stature.

Anna felt her cheeks turn red. Even his reaction was more amplified than she’d imagined. This town is obsessed with normalcy, she thought disappointedly.

“So I seem to recall that you needed a certain letter of recommendation,” Principal Higgins continued, his chin lowering toward his chest as he looked at Anna from over his wired lenses. “Were you able to complete any community service hours during the course of the summer, as I recommended?”

Anna stole a glance toward her left, attempting to study Eddie’s face as she pondered a response. He seemed confused, but slightly relieved, probably tired of his continued interaction between authority and himself. She wondered if he even connected who she was from last year. Did he know her name? Or did he refer to her as "Morticia" as the rest of the student body? Anna's voice competed with her thoughts.

“Unfortunately, no,” Anna admitted softly, her light eyes hesitant to meet the Principal’s. “My family and I were in the Keys for the summer, and we left shortly after school let out last year. We just returned on Labor Day…” her voice drifted, ashamed.

“Pfft,” the outcast next to her scoffed lowly. “The Keys. Must be nice.” Anna winced. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Munson,” Principal Higgins intervened, annoyed. He turned to Anna with the same changed affect as before. “Then I have a great opportunity for you for the school year.” He leaned back in his chair, pausing before shifting his attention to Eddie. “Mr. Munson is looking for an academic tutor for English for the semester.”

“Like hell I am!” Eddie spat in challenge, his thick hands gripping the arms of his chair. This evoked a condescending grin from the Principal as he pushed himself upright. He looked to his side, both of his hands sliding two pieces of thick, yellow paper to present to them. It was each of their schedules, Anna’s to his right, Eddie’s to his left.

“So it seems…” he paused, taking a pen from his front button-down pocket, “…that each of you have 3^rd period English together,” he circled both blocks on the schedules, “And 9^th period Study Hall together.” His circles were imperfect, a thick black line overlapping on her own schedule to where “Study Hall” was printed. “If you intend on graduating this year, Mr. Munson, I think Miss Winterfield’s help would be to your benefit.” He looked expectedly over to the misfit, predicting a tantrum.

“I don’t need to be babysat to be able to graduate,” was Eddie’s fiery response. He recognized the harshness in his tone and turned to Anna, pressing out his palm in defense. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Anna murmured, hugging herself uncomfortably. She slumped in the chair, sheepishly looking at Principal Higgins. “Look, Principal Higgins, if Eddie’s not prepared to have a tutor at this time, do you have any other, erm, opportunities for community service? The deadline for Columbia is the Thursday before Thanksgiving, and I would really appreciate your recommendation so I can submit it by then.”

“Nonsense! Mr. Munson would be delighted to have such a willing, intelligent young lady help him in a shared class, isn’t that right, Mr. Munson?” He sounded like a parent attempting to give their child a second opportunity to showcase appropriate behavior after being scolded and punished. Anna was desperate, and her face must have showed it. She could feel her eyes begin to water, her body’s natural response to her overwhelm. This could be the only opportunity for her to get this recommendation, and it was all in Eddie’s hands. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes staring down to the safe space of the top curves of her boots.

Eddie peered over to Anna, sensing her tension. He noticed her shrink, growing to half of her size in her chair. His curious gaze scanned her sullen head and tried to capture her eyes. He noticed the reflectiveness of her baby blues; she wasn’t … crying, was she? Guilt engulfed him. He couldn’t identify why he felt obligated to do this, but anything was better than repeating an additional year at Hawkins High.

Finally, Eddie heaved an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands dramatically in defeat. “Fine. Whatever,” he grunted, laying back in his seat. He kicked his combat boots on the top of the desk, displaying his soles to the Principal. Principal Higgins waved them away without verbal acknowledgement.

“Fantastic,” he said, pushing over their schedules and introducing an additional document. “Now to ensure that you’re meeting consistently, I’m going to ask that you fill out this document. I would say that meeting at least three times per week would be fair, considering where Mr. Munson stood last year in absences and overall performance.” Eddie bared his teeth at the dig. Principal Higgins looked from the document to Anna, his eyes empathetic. “I recognize you have other studies to attend to, Anna, so I wouldn’t want to burden you with five times a week.” It’s funny how people were so considerate of her once they got what they wanted, Anna noted in distaste.

Anna examined the columns on the document. Date, Time, Topic, Tutor Signature, Tutored Signature. It was proof of attendance, Anna realized, and it was probably needed to show that the district was doing something about Eddie Munson. After all, the infamous “Freak” was an academic liability. Everybody wanted him out.

“This seems doable to me,” Anna noted gently, averting her gaze from the page to her partner. “Eddie?”

“Are we done here?” Eddie huffed. He kicked his legs out, stomping the rubber of his boots on the ground and rushed to stand. Before the Principal could respond, Eddie’s frame disappeared past the doorway of the office. Anna heard him share a goodbye with the receptionist, brief as before, before the collapse of the main door echoed behind him.

Principal Higgins sighed in disappointment. “I do apologize for Mr. Munson’s behavior. I suppose he needs some time to process the consequences of his actions.” Anna took the document he offered her. “I take this will be a great help to him, Miss Winterfield. I do appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to help a fellow student in need.”

“Yes, of course,” Anna replied, standing to brush her skirt into his place. She didn’t seem to recognize her own voice. Even she needed time to process the ambush of her academic advisor. “I appreciate the opportunity, Principal Higgins.” With a nod of her head and a forced smile, Anna grabbed her knapsack and swung one strap over her shoulder. “Have a good day, Sir.”

As she departed, she blinked several times to efface any tears from falling. She tried to replace her sensitivity she felt from being an outsider in this world with silent positive affirmations. Change involved some flexibility, Anna told herself as she walked past the receptionist and into the hallway. Maybe sometimes that involved doing things that you didn’t want to do, or weren't sure you could do, especially when it came to the unpredictability of Eddie Munson.

As she exited, Anna caught him bustling down the hallway, his footsteps clumsy. He seemed to dodge towards the back entrance of the building. Anna overheard him muttering, “Shit, shit, shit,” under his breath as he continued, appearing distressed.

“Eddie!” she called after him, taking a few steps forward. “We should really talk about—”

Eddie maintained the same pace, only backwards. A coy smile appeared on his lips, wrinkling the edges of his mouth. “I’m really sorry,” he called down to her. “I have a, uh, business venture to pursue right now.” He winked mischievously before turning his back, and Anna felt something in her chest pulse, as if her heart skipped a beat. “Talk later!”

The squeaking of the metal of the double doors was the only thing Anna could process as he left the building. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she stood there, alone in the expanded corridor of the school. “Business venture?” she whispered to herself, trying to piece the analogy together. What did he mean? And why couldn't her heart slow down?

Her Eureka moment connecting his comment was the chime of first period dismissal. Within moments, students rushed out of their classrooms, colliding with each other in the hallway to get to their next classes. A darkened figure of a girl her age emerged from an adjacent classroom, and her eyes widened when she recognized it was Ivy.

“Anna? Why’d you get called down the Principal Higgins’ office?” Ivy asked, pulling herself into Anna’s left arm. She referenced the office with her eyes before continuing down the hallway with Anna, slow compared to their peers.

Anna felt as if her mind was racing at the same pace of the other students. Was she really going to spend the rest of the semester tutoring Eddie Munson? Would he even show up to their meetings? By the way things looked as he left Principal Higgins’ office, he wasn’t even thinking about showing up to his next class.

“It’s a long story,” Anna inhaled, attempting to ease her thoughts. “Tell you at lunch?”

“You’ll have to. I’m that way,” Ivy responded, releasing her arm to ambulate to the far left of the hallway. “Hope to hear only good things!” she concluded with a sing-song voice before pursuing her next class.

Anna wasn’t sure how “good” being Eddie’s assigned tutor would sound to Ivy. If anything, it might have repulsed her. Anna sundered toward her locker, her steps feeling heavy as she walked. Calculus never sounded so good right now.

Author's Notes: I had this chapter mostly written when waiting for my acceptance for AO3, so I decided to post early. I wasn't really sure how to end it, but I have more ideas for the next chapters that'll move along the plot a little better. Thanks to those that viewed the last chapter and left Kudos!

Chapter Text

003.
Paradise Place

“So wait…”

Ivy looked like she needed time to process the news that Anna shared with her during that 5^th period Lunch. She rested her pale hands on the sides of her forehead, her thumbs rubbing her temples. Ivy’s netted elbows rested on top of the circular table she and Anna shared, seemingly separated from the rest of the cafeteria. They’ve been sitting as far removed as possible from the general student body for as long as she and Anna were friends. It was Ivy’s idea when they were in middle school, affirming that both she and Anna didn’t “abide” by a clique. “Higgins wants you to tutor Eddie Munson in English?” she stated this inquiry as if Anna spoke to her in a foreign language.

Anna had barely touched her meal, a desolate ham and cheese sandwich she threw in a brown paper bag hours before. Her fingers rubbed the end of one of her dark tresses, comforting her in the moment. “I mean, yeah…” she shrugged, her eyes staring at a greased spot on the table. “He said he would consider it ‘community service’ and would write me a recommendation for Columbia if Eddie has a passing grade by the end of the semester.” Anna might as well be saying that zombies would rise from the grave, but weird things always happened in Hawkins, and maybe Eddie Munson graduating could be added to all the stranger things occurring in town the past couple of years.

“Eddie Munson?” Ivy spat again, as if she couldn’t process his name. “We’re talking about the super senior who was supposed to be tutored for O’Donnell’s class this morning, who just happened not to show up for it?” Ivy shook her head in distaste, huffing the last words out as if they were choking her. “The guy’s setting you up for failure, Anna. You should really talk to him and see if you can do something else.”

Anna felt herself sinking in her seat. Eddie made a brief appearance in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class this morning, twenty minutes into the period. He opened the door of the classroom mid-lesson and asked, “What did I miss?” cluelessly as his greeting. Some of her classmates snickered at his outlandish entrance, and Anna could see that his eyes looked hazed over, reddened where the whites of his eyes should be. Anna’s theory of what he described as a “business venture” was true, and it looked like he had to try the product to get a successful sale.

After a few moments of being lectured by Mrs. O’Donnell about “the importance of punctuality” and her ongoing nagging, Eddie lazily laughed in response and was out of the classroom with faster than he arrived. Anna hadn’t seen him since then, until this lunch period.

Ivy’s voice droned on as Anna’s shimmering lids gazed toward the “rejects” table. Anna’s tiny circular table was in the corner of the cafeteria, near the entrance, an ideal location away from the masses. About thirty feet away was Eddie’s “Dungeons and Dragons” clan, most dressed in Hellfire shirts with a logo of a cartoon devil on baseball shirts. Gareth, Eddie’s right-hand man, sat closest to him on a seat perpendicular to the head of the table. The other lackeys covered the opposing side of table, laughing obnoxiously in response to their leader. Like a king, Eddie sat at the head of the table, the honored leader of the pack, positioned such that he was angled perfectly diagonal to Anna.

Perfect enough to notice that he was exchanging eye contact from across the room.

It took Anna a moment to process that they were looking directly at one another through the crowds of tables. It clicked when a small smirk lifted the corners of his cheeks, followed by him shooting upward on the table, foolishly strutting across the top to the opposite end in efforts to make a statement. Students sitting at other tables looked up at his antics, some with amusement, some with disgust as he continued to the end, jumping off and landing gracelessly on the floor at the opposing side of his throne.

“He’s coming over here,” Anna cut Ivy off mid-thought, evoking Ivy to shake her head in confusion. Anna attempted to avoid eye contact, looking down at her sandwich and distracting her hands by putting them on either side. “Don’t look, but he’s coming over here. He made direct eye contact with me.”

Ivy whipped her head around despite Anna’s warning, and Anna seethed at her lack of direction-following. Before Ivy could formulate a response, Eddie stood before the both of them. His presence came off more awkward in front of them compared to how charismatic he appeared in front of the group who worshipped him. He had his hands behind his back, and Anna heard his rings clinking together though he hid them from view.

“Hi…” his voice faded, less confident than his typical cafeteria performance. He eyed Anna first, then turned to Ivy, noting that she shared the area with her companion. “Ivy… uh, make any good human sacrifices this summer?” He was attempting to lighten the fact that he approached them in the first place.

“Not as many as I intended,” her gothic friend replied, appearing inattentive as she picked at one of her ebony nails. Ivy broke her concentration, her cat-eyes somber and curious. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Eddie?” Her tone was sarcastic as she rested her chin on her fist, studying his reaction. Ivy could put the fear of God in the Devil.

“I, uh…” he adjusted himself, rocking slightly in his stance. “I was wondering if I could…” his eyes moved from the floor to Anna’s own. “I was wondering if I could invite … Anna … into my office for a chat.” He grinned childishly at Anna, and Anna hesitantly returned the gesture. Ivy went from studying Eddie to attending to Anna, protectively judging her reaction. She waited to respond until she noticed a glimpse of her friend’s teeth returning Eddie’s grin.

“If Anna is comfortable with it,” she adjusted herself to face Anna. “Are you comfortable with it, Anna?”

Anna cleared her throat before standing slightly. “I think I should be okay. I’ll Banshee scream if something goes awry,” Anna assured her friend, her heart repeating the same pattern as before when Eddie winked at her. She stumbled over her chair, her knee buckling, but she was able to straighten herself up before falling. Anna felt her cheeks brighten as she walked near the misfit.

“As long as you’ve been practicing,” Ivy sternly replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Make good choices, Munson.”

Eddie replied with a nod and a salute of his index and middle fingers, folding his lips together as Anna stood before him. He eyed the cafeteria entrance, leading Anna along toward the doors before breathing a sigh of relief as they passed them into the main hallway of Hawkins High.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he gasped, holding his chest. “She scares the shit out of me.” He bent forward, pausing his gait outside the doors of the cafeteria. Anna erupted in giggles at his reaction to entering the shark tank with her best friend. Her eyes creased as she laughed, her response infectious. Eddie’s horror turned to humor, imitating her laughter at his own dramatics. “I can see why you’re friends with her,” he added, his laugh hearty.

“Yeah, Ivy has always been pretty protective,” Anna admitted. Her voice calmed, but her smile remained, letting her guard down in front of her acquaintance. “I don’t remember the last time I saw her smile to the general public.” Anna adjusted her sweater, pulling at the V-shape near her chest. Her laughter and her underlying anxiety in the presence of Eddie made her feel warm.

“Yeah,” Eddie exhaled, folding his arms across his chest. His upper body was stoic, but he kicked his feet as he walked, like a child attempting to entertain himself. “So, Anna,” he continued, pausing before presenting her name. It must have sounded unfamiliar to him; when could he have possibly used it before today? When he copied her notes last year, her attention was a shoulder tap away. Most referred to her by her mock name; Ivy would have laid any poor soul to rest if they even dared to call her outside of her name. “You look … different compared to last year.” He bowed toward her slightly as they continued down the hallway. “New clothes?”

Anna’s blush returned to her cheeks, more exasperated than before. Any talk of her style change made her especially nervous, but everything felt amplified with Eddie there. “Y-yeah,” she stammered, feeling insecure. She cupped her hands in front of her, flexing her knuckles together. “My mom made some suggestions that I decided to roll with.” She shrugged, meekly looking up at him. She must have sounded like a middle schooler to him.

“I really didn’t recognize you without the fishnets and the…” his voice drifted, using his hands to gesture toward his eyelids, making shapes with his index fingers to show where eyeliner would be. When Anna caught on to his charade, she chuckled, nodding to affirm that she understood what he meant. “But that’s cool. I mean, I can really see your eyes now.” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his lips. “That sounded creepy. I’m sorry if that sounded weird.”

Anna was floored. Was this the same “I-don’t-care-what-you-think-about-me” Eddie “The Freak” Munson that the public demonized, conscious about how he was portraying himself to someone like her? He was a lot more sensitive than Anna considered. “No, that was really nice,” Anna shared, nodding in affirmation. “Thank you,” she added, approaching the end of the hallway with him. The only thing that separated them from the football field and the woods was the metallic double-doors of the exit.

Eddie grinned, but was quick to change the subject. “Can I show you somewhere?” he inquired, his chocolate eyes curious if she would grant her permission. Though confused, Anna nodded, and he held one of the double doors open for her. “It’s like my secret hiding spot,” he admitted, his tone innocent. She followed himself outside, and they shared some moments of comfortable silence as they crossed the pavement that led to the gates of the football field.

“So,” Eddie broke the silence as their boots crunched beneath the faux grass of the football field. “I think I came off as a dick before in Higgins’ office, and I wanted to talk to you and tell you that I’m sorry,” he stated. His hands swayed at his sides as he led her into the wooded area behind the field. He peered over at her, his eyes sincere. “Higgins is an asshole, and we don’t have the best relationship, obviously, so anything I said about wanting to leave and whatever was toward him, not you.”

Anna was surprised enough at his remorse that she nearly tripped over leaves that littered the mouth of the woods. Eddie caught her by the arm, helping her steady herself upright. “You okay?” he asked, slightly amused at her clumsiness.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Anna replied somewhat breathlessly, lifting her knees over the barricade of leaves. “I’m just pretty surprised, is all. Rumor had it, ‘The Freak’ didn’t have a soul.” Anna grinned jokingly, her feet meeting a dirt path that was clear of leaves. Eddie responded with a pretend shocked expression, pushing her by the shoulder playfully.

“I do have a soul,” Eddie exclaimed, walking a foot behind Anna. “I just … sold it to Satan for a good price.” Anna burst into a chorus of laughter, turning toward him as she continued. Her laughter made him feel lighter, as if he’s known his person beyond the hasty English class notes and interaction in the Principal’s office.

The couple approached a barren wooden bench and table in the middle of the forest, surrounded by shedding trees for the season. Morning doves cooed in the distance, their songs dancing in the branches of the luring trees. A beam of afternoon sunlight peered between the empty spaces onto the wooden table, like a heavenly sign beckoning the couple to sit. This place was peaceful, Anna decided, and accepted the sun’s invitation, making herself comfortable at the table.

“Well, here it is,” Eddie stated, showcasing the aloof area by presenting both arms outward. “My secret spot. Well, not so secret. Only the people that I deal to really know about this place.” He sat across from her, brushing his bangs away from his vision.

“This is really something, Munson,” Anna added quietly in approval. She looked around, peering through the trees to determine if other parties would approach. “This would make a nice place to hide away in. I would just sit here and read.” Anna envisioned herself spending Study Hall in this vacant vicinity, that is, if Eddie and his customers didn’t overshadow her time borrowed.

“Speaking of reading,” the misfit started, his eyes drifting toward the table. “Don’t feel obligated to tutor me just because Higgins told you to. The guy ambushed you this morning,” Eddie spat, rolling his eyes at the school supervisor. “Hence what I said about him being a dick.”

“It’s really not an issue,” Anna protested gently, shaking her head to efface his beliefs. “Unless,  you’re not interested in a tutor. I don’t want to do something you don’t want to do. It would be a waste for both of us.”

“I just…” Eddie paused. “I’m a busy guy.” He shrugged, lifting one of his legs on the platform of the seating area near him. His jean-covered knee was exposed, homemade rips torn in the fabric. “Band practice on Tuesdays, Hellfire on Fridays. Plus, if a customer needs me, Study Hall would be a good time to deal. Gotta pay the bills, y’know?” He didn’t want to portray that he needed her to pass. If he just showed up to class more, attendance alone would probably raise him a couple of points for class participation. Still, in Eddie’s world, that was easier said than done.

“Well, if you really want it,” Anna lifted herself up from the table, coolly walking away from the area to explore a tree that encircled them. “We can find a way to make it work. We can meet outside school if you needed to. It just doesn’t have to be during Study Hall.” She had her back turned away from him, inspecting some corroded tree bark presented in the natural woodwork. “I could offer my house,” she continued, her mouth rambling solutions that her mind configured. “If you’re more comfortable where you live, we can go there, too. Public library … a diner … hell, I’d meet at Lovers’ Lake if you wanted to.” She joked, presenting the idea sarcastically.

As she turned to him, she gasped, leaning up against the tree bark. Eddie was mere inches away from her frame, a pleasant, flirtatious smile on his lips. Anna didn’t hear him get up and walk toward her. He leaned toward her, his frame towering her own petite stature. His left hand supported him on the same bark as he stood.

“Lovers’ Lake, huh?” he breathed, his voice gruff despite its softness in tone. He absentmindedly reached his free hand to tuck some of Anna’s wisps of hair behind her ear, his gesture so natural and honest that it seemed his body acted without thought. What motivated her to want to help him so much, he wondered. He remembered she needed some sort of recommendation from Higgins, but she was going above and beyond what was necessary to try to ensure his time was accounted for.

She was so naturally beautiful, he decided, without the dark shapes around her eyes, hiding away in the chains and fishnets that covered her arms and legs. Her being around him alone felt so genuine, like they’ve known each other lifetimes before. It befuddled him that this moment didn’t approach them sooner.

Anna held her breath as Eddie held his stance. She didn’t protest; in fact, maybe this is what her butterfly-beating heart was alerting her all along. She bit her lip, vulnerable in her position. “Yeah,” she whispered. “If you wanted to.”

The shrill bell from the high school reflected outside of the facility, vibrating across the football field and heard from where they stood. This signaled Eddie to back away gently. “I should probably get you back to Ivy before she puts my head on a stake,” his joke was overlapped with disappointment. Anna flipped her tongue in her mouth, trying to hide the ruined moment from her expression.

“Yeah. Knowing her, she’ll bring an army, too,” she added, pulling herself away. “So, should we try Study Hall this week? What about Wednesday?” Anna suggested, moments prior still embedded in her gaze.

“I think I could make Wednesday work,” Eddie decided aloud. He extravagantly gestured before him for her to ambulate in front of him. “After you, m’lady.”

Anna responded with a polite curtesy as she did earlier, allowing him to escort her through the trees and onto school property. As they departed and awkwardly stated goodbyes to go in different directions at the school, Anna imprinted his expression in her thoughts, recalling his soft, inviting eyes, the way his fingers skillfully brushed single strands from her vision. She sighed dreamily, returning to the cafeteria to retrieve her items and quietly hoping Ivy went independently to her next class.

Who would have thought “The Freak” would give her some newly found peace and confidence?

Author's Notes: Ooookay, I tried to speed up the Eddie x OC interactions and obvious ~tensions~. Writing has been my safe place as of late, so you guys are getting chapters sooner than anticipated. If you have any recommendations about other authors on this site for Eddie works, please share! I've been looking for good content to read. Thanks!

Chapter Text

004.
Voodoo Dolly

Anna’s reputation at Hawkins High slowly enlightened as periods passed. Snickers and mocking statements evolved to acknowledging nods or whistles, depending on the person. It felt so unfamiliar to the outsider, who had spent most of her life in an unappealing light, dissected by peers and passersbys alike for her image. Her interactions with teachers improved, as most parties more inclined to call on her and provide positive feedback for her ideas. Her world grew warmer, brighter even.

Since the lunchtime interaction with Eddie Munson, the misfit appeared more frequently in Anna’s world. Anna couldn’t determine if it was because she was looking for him or if it was coincidental. When idle, she found herself mentally transporting back to the woods behind the school, studying Eddie’s luminous gaze. Sometimes she contrived the past to be more. Their lips would meet and every muscle in Anna’s body would relax. She didn’t know how, or why, “The Freak” of Hawkins, Indiana enthralled her as much as he did. There was a certain comfort that she recognized and found herself longing for in their interactions. When she wanted to capture that feeling, he was a sweet classroom daydream away.

Jason Carver was the most adamant about keeping the status quo. That Tuesday afternoon as she traveled to classes, his posse met her path. One of the jocks “accidentally” tripped her and her armful of books related to American History she was treading toward for 7^th period. The jocks continued onward, disappearing into the crowd of students, leaving only chortles in their direction.

As she struggled to gather her belongings that were littered across the hallway, a frail, manicured hand reached out above her textbook and gently handed it toward her. Anna met Chrissy Cunningham’s gaze, who was apologetic, even in her eyesight. A timid smile crossed Chrissy’s lips as she offered the textbook, as if to take responsibility of what had just occurred. Anna hesitantly exchanged the book.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know why the guys have to be such jerks sometimes,” Chrissy started softly. Despite being out of her cheerleading uniform, the Princess of High School still donned the school spirit shades of emerald and gold. Her blonde hair was styled in a high ponytail, looking effortless. Anna couldn’t remember a negative interaction with Chrissy since middle school. In fact, Chrissy’s personality compared to her cohort seemed much opposite. She was mostly quiet and shy – the only time her personality shined was when she was performing a choreographed routine during basketball games.

Anna stood, clutching her books to her chest. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been dealing with this forever,” she assured, shaking her head. “Thanks again for your help.” The teen started toward the direction of her class, until the cheerleader stopped her, reaching out for her bare arm from the cut-off sleeve of her mock turtleneck.

“Anna, right?” Chrissy inquired, her brow slightly quivering upward. Anna affirmed with a gentle nod. Chrissy paused, as if mustering up the courage to deliver a compliment. “I … I just think you should know that that despite whatever anyone else thinks, you look great.” Anna’s eyes widened in confusion, but mimicked a smile that Chrissy shared with her. “See you around?”

“Yeah, see you…”

The air around Anna thickened. Anna’s chest tightened as a sinister presence surrounded the pair and engulfed Chrissy’s pretty features. Her indigo eyes faded to white, as if her soul dissipated from her body. Down her supple cheeks streaked red markings, like blood gushing from the pressure behind eyes. The blood flowed down her face, and Chrissy’s jaw was pulled from the roof of her mouth, emitting a horrifying scream that echoed in Anna’s ears. Chrissy’s body twisted and contorted unnaturally, her bones crunching as it was manipulated by an invisible force.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Anna gasped, nearly dropping her books strapped near her chest. When she blinked, the kind but befuddled gaze of the cheerleader, face in-tact, gazed back at her.

“I … I’m just so late for class,” Anna forced a chuckle before dismissing herself. “See you around, Chrissy!” Terrified, she paced away, trying to efface the aura of death that tugged at her shoulders. Anna could feel Chrissy’s eyes on her as she walked away, but her desperation forced her to keep walking, to not look back. The tension did not yield as she forced herself around the corner, recognizing that no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, she saw Chrissy Cunningham’s fate and could not do a thing to change its outcome.

---

The demented face in her vision simply would not go away. Anna told herself mentally that it had to be something else: a dark, intrusive thought evoked by stress, or maybe a coincidence that Chrissy Cunningham looked like one of the actresses from A Nightmare on Elm Street and her brain just played a trick on mounting her face to emulate a death in the movie. Ivy was suspicious at Anna’s withdrawn demeanor on the walk home that afternoon. Anna insisted it was just a migraine and disappeared into her room when she said her goodbyes at the gate, not even greeting her mother when she walked through the door.

She remembered the forewarning of her maternal grandmother that now translated as an omen rather than a colorful tale for her childhood self: “The Good women in this family can see things that the naked eye cannot. We have had this charm for generations, documented as early as the Salem Witch Trials. What we do with this charm is of most importance to the future of Good women.” Before she could detail the charm, Anna’s mother would often swoop in, quieting her own mother and redirecting the storyline to offers of beverages or other activities.

For Anna, this charm involved the deceased. She had multiple accounts with others who have passed since toddler-age. When the charm enforced her removal from schools and playdates as opposed to good fortune and messages toward the given parties she was directed toward, Anna was forced to block the messages through new-age therapies, medication, or her own suppression. Her parents brought her to a Dr. Martin Brenner when she was six years old that based his practice from Indianapolis to Hawkins in the early 1970s. Out of all the practitioners Anna was forced to engage with, Dr. Brenner encouraged “exploration and observation” of Anna’s reported gifts.

Her father was quick to withdraw further evaluation when Dr. Brenner suggested that Anna be confined to the laboratory to assist in “harnessing and controlling her skills,” and stated that parental involvement be limited to the extent of emancipating the girl. Edmund Winterfield saw something a six-year-old Anna could not see in Brenner’s intentions, and he pulled the child out by the arm from Brenner’s office, leaving his own wife sitting in her own stupor.

“I’ll be damned if that man treats my child like a lab rat, Maureen,” Anna remembered her father’s voice from outside the Mercedes as he argued with her mother in the parking lot. “Revoking parental rights and responsibilities, my ass. What could that quack possibly need to do to kids to not have their own parents involved in the treatment process?” He hastily opened the car door as his mother protested from the passenger side.

“But this treatment could truly save her life, Ed. Maybe this is what she needs,” the former beauty queen beckoned, her hands gesturing for his appeal.

“It’s not happening!” His fists pounded on the steering wheel, finalizing his decision. His devout sternness quieted both parties. He revved up the car and the only sound on the drive home was the motor of the vehicle. When he parked, Edmund looked in the rearview mirror at his daughter. “Everything is going to be okay, honey,” he assured her gently when her mother exited the car. “Mom and I will make sure you are always safe.” Dr. Brenner was never mentioned again.

The ghostly figures Anna could interact with as a child were now mostly static. Desperate entities would go so far to visit her in her dreams; she released their messages into the wind when she awoke. She figured this may be a way for the crossed party to relay a message to her: Was it someone that Chrissy Cunningham knew? Was this their way of protecting her? Even if Anna could communicate the message, what would she even say? “Hey Chrissy, thanks for your kindness in the hallway. I wanted to return the gesture and tell you that someone who knew you that’s dead told me you’re going to die, too.” That would be a sure way for expulsion, and Anna could kiss all opportunity of escaping to New York next fall goodbye.

The worst part for Anna was that her savior from the day prior was nowhere to be found. Anna looked for Eddie during Study Hall that previous afternoon, and he never entered the library. She figured he had another “business deal” in the woods and spent most of the time exchanging glances from her Calculus homework to the library entrance. Every time she attempted to relive her experience in the woods with “The Freak,” Chrissy’s nightmare face appeared. She had no outlet to share the information, no way to fight the monster that crept in her memory of the exchange. Her new clothes couldn’t protect her from her loneliness that her otherworldly visions had bestowed on her conscience.

---

Wednesday morning arrived, and Ivy walked with Anna to Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class. Ivy was constantly badgering her with questions about Eddie, if she was going to continue to tutor him, why couldn’t she ask Principal Higgins to give her other assignment, etcetera. For someone who tried to say they had her best interests at heart, Anna was beginning to become annoyed with Ivy’s intrusiveness in her hopes with the Munson boy.

Anna solemnly took her seat in class. She heard the bell ring and opened her notebook, preparing herself for the lesson. As the final chime struck, Eddie walked through the entrance, like a mirage, and made his way in the back row of the class. He winked playfully at Anna as he passed and chose the desk directly in back of her. Ivy rolled her eyes at his greeting.

“Not sure if he showed up to class for the lesson or for you,” Ivy whispered as Mrs. O’Donnell began the chapter review and discussion questions. Anna did her best to ignore the comment, focusing on following along with the lecture. As she copied the ideas presented on the board, a piece of crumbled lined paper appeared on her notebook, pausing her rigorous pace.

Anna placed down her pen and curiously uncrumpled the paper. Inside there were two letters, hastily scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting:

Hi.

Anna looked over her shoulder and peered at Eddie’s face from her peripheral vision. Her looked up at her humorously, expectedly waiting for a response. Anna grinned and wrote back in script:

Good morning. Glad to see you’re here.

 She folded up the page and slowly brushed it past her shoulder, sneakily handing it back to him. As she waited for a response, she kept her eyes glued to the board. Within seconds, another note appeared on her desk.

Happy to have the pleasure of staring at the back of your head all class. Meeting during Study Hall still?

Anna giggled at his response, attracting Ivy’s attention. She scoffed when she recognized what was occurring. Anna quieted her with a soft shhh.

Yes, meeting during Study Hall still. Don’t forget your copy of the book.

The exchange continued.

What copy? Didn’t bother with that. Just showing up for the tutor.

 Anna toyed with the ends of the paper as she read his reply. Obviously distracted, the teacher startled her when called by name.

“Miss Winterfield,” called a stoic Mrs. O’Donnell. Her eyes drifted from Anna’s face to the note. “Since you are so invested in other affairs, perhaps you can tell us the significance of the title in The Sun Also Rises.” Some classmates snickered at the confrontation.

Anna cleared her throat and straightened herself in her seat. If there’s one thing she did, it was read the assigned book. “It’s metaphorical,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And existential. It highlights the impact of World War I and the lost generation of artists that continue to create despite the surrounding turmoil. Gently speaking, it states that life goes on. The sun will continue to rise despite what’s happening in the world.”

Mrs. O’Donnell took a moment to comprehend Anna’s informed response. “It seems as though someone has done her summer reading. I stand corrected.” She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to notate Anna’s analysis on the board for others to consider in their notes.

“Nice job, Tutor,” Eddie murmured directly next to her ear, his breath brushing the back of her neck. Anna felt herself light up at his acknowledgement. “Good to know I’m in good hands.”

Anna sighed, attempting to focus for the rest of the class despite her feeling eyes on her head from the back of the room and Ivy’s obvious disgust at their interactions. She eased up at Eddie's presence and wondered if she were to share her world if he would think of her differently. Would he believe her? Or would she return to obscurity and alter their connection?

Anna shook the thought. The monsters were at bay, for now, she concluded. Chrissy’s phantom became dormant in her mind. Eddie was here to save the day.

Author's Notes: Hope this chapter offered some clarity and backstory into Anna. It's a bit skittish in plot with the breaks, but hopefully it will make more sense later. Happy reading!

Chapter Text

005.
Christine  

2:20 PM. Eddie was 15 minutes late.

Anna gazed up at the clock like she was expecting it to give her an answer to his tardiness. Her pencil tapped along the edge of the library table, competing with her irregular heartbeat. A scowl by a peer that shared the Study Hall period with her decreased her drumming, unbeknownst to her surrounding the volume. She shared an apologetic smile before returning her attention to the clock, silently demanding a rationale for his inconsideration.

Anna needed an escape from the terror that followed her around since she last saw Chrissy. She took a moment to peel herself away from the clock to the towers of books that surrounded her and her peers. Across the table and to the left, two boys that could have been members of the Computer Science club quietly discussed and hovered over The C Programming Language, their conversation minimal to Anna’s ears. Anna jumped gently in her seat when she heard someone behind her shout, “Nance, c’mon!”, the tone simultaneously irritable and remorseful.

Moments later, Nancy Wheeler stormed past her table, hugging a library book against her chest. Her gait was intense and focused, and her lips formed in a petulant pout as she focused on the exit. Soon thereafter was Steve “The King” Harrington brushing past Anna’s table, nearly sprinting down the corridor after his sweetheart. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, Nancy,” he said beseechingly. As he approached the exit, his foot slipped, knocking his torso into a nearby table covered in returned books. Some of the books toppled to the ground, craning necks toward the distraction.

Steve brushed himself off and took a moment to peer around the room at the latent reactions. “Oh what, like you’ve never seen a guy get into a misunderstanding with his girlfriend before,” he huffed at the crowd, his expression threatening. Most went back to what they were doing, fearful to irritate the student body-claimed “King” anymore than what he already was. Anna was astonished when she saw him picking up some of the books he knocked over before turning to the exit and colliding with another body: Eddie Munson.

“In a hurry, Harrington?” Anna heard Eddie’s coy voice from several feet away. He pushed his arms away in his leather jacket, passing “Pretty Boy” Harrington into the room.

“Just mind where you’re going, Freak,” Steve spat in harsh reply before disappearing past the outsider. Eddie heaved an exasperated sigh before approaching Anna, his affect changing to warm and innocent as he slid into the seat across from her.

“I’m not that late, am I?” Eddie asked, sensing the tension in the way Anna sat upright in her chair. He folded his lips, attempting to challenge the grin that was growing on them.

“Study Hall ends in maybe 20 minutes,” Anna heaved, her eyes avoiding his to prevent herself from smiling. She reached into her knapsack and pulled out a blue-covered spiral notebook and her own copy of The Sun Also Rises. Upon placing them on the tabletop, she pushed them towards Eddie’s direction. “From today onward, no more rolled up pieces of lined papers for notes. You have to remember what we go over, and you can’t do that if you’re throwing out or losing what you write down.”

Eddie pursed his lips and his eyes widened slightly, obviously flattered. He picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages, holding it by his binding. “I’m sorry to say I didn’t bring you any gifts,” he said as he moved on to examine her copy of the assigned reading. He sounded almost embarrassed, Anna noted. She never intended to make him feel guilty about the things he lacked, understanding that her own financial situation was not the norm of most that resided in Hawkins.

“I just want you to be able to pass the class,” she insisted, opening her library copy of The Sun Also Rises. “I gave you my copy of the book. I wouldn’t want you to not graduate over an overdue library book.” Her demeanor was playful now, scrolling to the start of the first chapter. Eddie mimicked her actions but perused the entirety of the book instead, nodding at some of the notes in the margins of her copy.

“You got me the Cheat Sheet version, too. How flattering,” he smirked, his eyes glistening mischievously as he gazed at her. Anna caught herself staring back, and when she found herself lingering too long, she hesitated and tried to find her place at the beginning of the book.

“So, just to reiterate, you’ve read none of this book before,” Anna confirmed, appearing distracted as she thumbed her way past the Table of Contents. She could hear his seat squeaking in response as he kicked his shoes up to the height of the table. Anna noticed they were white Reeboks today, unlike his typical combat boots.

“Ne-ope,” he shook his head and crossed his arms. “Although, I do know that the title of the book…” He paused, lifting his index finger to her to excuse the delay in his sentence. He lifted himself out of his chair, pulling a crumbled piece of lined paper from the back pocket of his jeans. He flattened the page onto the table, ironing out the wrinkles with a pressing motion with his dominant hand. “…is metaphorical and existential.” His voice was deeper and mockingly stoic. “It highlights the impact of World War I and the lost generation of artists that continue to create despite the surrounding turmoil.”

Anna stifled a laugh, shaking her head at his antics. “Wow, you paid attention in class today. You’re on a roll, Munson,” she replied derisively. Eddie’s teeth revealed themselves into a smile, pride glittering at the edges of his mouth. He was proud of himself, Anna could see that.

“I spent about 45 minutes looking at the best back of the head I’ve ever seen, I would hope to have retained some information,” he claimed, rolling the sheet nonchalantly into a ball. He was looking to impress her and prove to her that he was paying attention. The paper was just a prop in his performance. “So, Morticia. That’s the lovely nickname that the scholars of Hawkins High bestowed upon you, isn’t it?” He pushed his weight onto his elbows, steadying himself on the base of the table. Despite his amusement, there was some disdain in his articulation, judging the ones that teased her more-so than she herself.

Anna used side of her hand as a bookmark in-between the pages, biting her lip at his mention of her sobriquet. A part of her prayed that he would know her by Anna and Anna only. Perhaps, in his world, she could be nameless before then, or simply referred to as “Girl That Lets Me Copy Notes in English”.

“Yeah. You got me.” Her admittance was sullen.

Eddie’s affect changed, realizing that the name held some trauma and uneasy memories for her. He was immune as “The Freak” as a second-time senior at Hawkins, carrying the name as a badge of honor for all of those who were misunderstood or different in the cookie-cutter town. For him, challenging the status quo was part of his legacy in small-town America. But Anna didn’t appear to have the same interpretation.

“Y’know,” Eddie leaned forward, his smoky voice now a whisper. He cupped his left hand over the side of his face, and the way the silver on his hands gleamed made it appear that they had secrets, too. “When I was a kid, maybe like, first grade? Second grade? My nickname was … Eddie Munster.” He pulled back at his own disbelief, holding both of his palms up in surrender. “You’ve got blackmail on me for days, Morticia,” he said normally, curling his fingers downward.

“No way,” Anna gasped, astonished at his vulnerability. “And here I thought ‘The Freak’ was etched on your birth certificate.”

“I know, I know. Very hard to believe. I’ve, uh…I’ve come a long way,” Eddie nodded his head inwardly, his bangs brushing against his eyes. He reached up and peered them away. “Two people have a baby and watch too many late-night sitcoms, and I bare the burden of the werewolf kid reference for most of elementary school.”

“So when did you get the promotion from--that--to ‘The Freak’?” Anna’s curiosity always got the better of her. She propped her elbow onto the table, holding the side of her face up with her palm as she examined him for a response.

Eddie scratched his chin, pondering a response. His eyes squinted in thought. “Uh…maybe middle school? I think it was after my band’s first Talent Show then,” he confirmed, relaxing his gaze. “I guess not many seventh graders appreciated Maiden. Who knew?” He shrugged before leaning in close to her again. “So what do you say, Morticia? Gonna take the secret to the grave, or rat me out? It’ll really put a damper on my image.” His expression was bright and his face was in such proximity to her own that she could feel his breath. The closeness between them made her blush.

“Just…don’t be late to our next meeting, and your secret will be safe with me,” Anna said sternly, hypnotized by his light-heartedness. She breathed a quiet chuckle as his eyes averted from her own to her lips.

“So,” Eddie murmured, the only movement between them was his thumb playing with his rings. “Do you want to continue our study session at Benny’s after school? I would say milkshakes are a pretty good source of study fuel.” His voice was less confident upon inquiry, and Anna translated it as hopeful. She paced herself to respond, calming herself before speaking to efface any sound of desperation.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” a voice said before Anna, hesitant and tender. It sounded just like…

“Hi, Chrissy,” Anna inhaled, looking up at her in surprise at her presence. She wasn’t aware that they shared Study Hall.

“Hi…” her voice drifted and she politely nodded in Eddie’s direction to acknowledge him. Eddie returned a nod back. “I’m sorry. You guys seem busy, but I was just wondering,” her face twisted in recall, “Did Mrs. Click say that the exam was this Friday or next Friday? I think I zoned out for part of the lesson.” She giggled awkwardly, unlike the typically polished Chrissy Cunningham.

“Uh…” Anna exhaled. She could sense an aura surrounding Chrissy that was unlike the cheerleader: something uninviting, something ominous. A single blackened cloud hovered over the Princess of High School Royalty as Anna’s mind disconnected from her voice box, struggling to find an answer. “It’s, um…I think it’s next Friday…” her words trailed off, her stare piercing the fourth dimension into the unseen world that none of her peers experienced or understood.

Chrissy Cunningham, usually soft and bright, was pinned to a ceiling. Her face was demented, the same expression Anna witnessed the day before, and her dark blue eyes lost their color. All that her irises and her pupils held was gray, the same color as ash after a body is cremated. Her jaw hinged from the rest of her face, and the sound of bones cracking plagued Anna’s ears. It was as if she was witnessing the horrific scene in real time, and the terror struck her throat, closing it and stifling her breathing.

As she remained frozen in this vision, Anna could hear a growl pass through the scene, its presence suffocating her. Join me, it demanded, its tone gravely and unlike anything of this realm. Join me, and we will recreate this world: your power and mine.

 “Anna? Hello?” Anna blinked to find Eddie waving his hand in front of her face. “You okay there? Still with me?”

“S-sorry,” Anna stammered, still traumatized from the corpse of Chrissy Cunningham. She blinked again and looked up, noticing she was gone.

“Think you freaked the cheerleader out,” Eddie observed, his eyes following Chrissy Cunningham out of the mouth of the library entrance. Anna was overwhelmed in illness. Her head felt as though it was removed from the rest of her body. The airiness pulled her upward, her eyes fluttering in response to the novel sensation. She heaved her weight from the seat, and her body felt faint.

“I don’t feel so well,” Anna admitted, nearly stumbling as she emerged from the chair. “I…I think I need some air.”

Eddie studied Anna, trying to determine if she was acting erratically because of his suggestion. “Do you need help?” he asked, pulling himself up from his own chair, the grinding of the legs on the linoleum screeching. Eddie didn’t mind any annoyed looks in his general direction.

“No, no,” Anna insisted, her knee buckling as she headed toward the exit. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” She desperately pressed her weight passed the library entrance into the corridor, her half-shut eyes seeking haven in an open space. She could hear Eddie following her, his sneakers squeaking as he increased his pace to keep up with her.

“We don’t have to go to Benny’s, if this is what this is about,” Eddie called, his insecurity about her perception of him evident in his voice. “It was stupid of me to suggest.”

Her lips became so dry that she couldn’t even muster a reply. She looked to her right to see a pair of double-doors to the back entrance of the building near the pavilion into the main parking lot of the high school. Stumbling, her breathing uneven, Anna used what was left of her strength to push the doors open. She kneeled on the pavement, pacing her breaths to acquire what oxygen her lungs could attain. She hid her head, her raven locks trickling over her eyes, and her attempts to push away the evil that shadowed Chrissy Cunningham failed. Something was here, something wanted Chrissy, and now, it demanded her. And whatever it was, it was able to suck out her soul and diminish her senses, even in real-time.

“Anna? Anna!” Eddie cried out. He sounded so close.

The last thing Anna saw was the concrete underneath her before submitting to complete darkness.

Author's Notes: Thank you for the views and Kudos!

Chapter Text

006.
Pulled to Bits.

Anna’s head was vibrating. Intense pain surged through her temples, pushing at the sockets of her eyes. The ache forced her hues open, and she blinked repeatedly, her irises adjusting to the light. Her vision was restored to various trucker hats hammered to a wall, her focus on a red one in particular. In thick, yellow letters, Anna furrowed her brows at the “Hawkins Hunting & Camping” logo, its brightness too stark for her obscured vision and related throbbing.

A groan escaped her dry lips, her tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth in attempt to moisten her upper lip. She mustered the strength to pull herself upright, temporarily propping her weight onto her elbows as she forced herself up. Everything felt so heavy, so dizzy. Her listlessness competed with her recall: Where was she? How did she get to this place? She averted her gaze down to a worn brown cushion of a couch she did not recognize. It was old, with some lacerations in the back cushions, as if it was derived from a junk yard or second-hand store.

Anna craned her neck to her far right, taking in the details of this unfamiliar place. The air was tainted with cigarette smoke and some mildew, perhaps from the couch she was laying upon. There was a single recliner a few feet away from the couch, and a dated television set was propped up on a wooden stand across the room from her head position. Her sight followed the gleam of a wicker hanging light in what appeared to be the dining area of this compacted place.

“Where am I?” Anna murmured, her voice coarse from her parched mouth. It took effort just to emit the sentence. Panic set in as she fought her memories that were her breadcrumbs to this moment: 9^th period Study Hall. Eddie arrived late. Suggestion of Benny’s for milkshakes. Chrissy Cunningham. Anna ill, running out of the library. And then, nothing. Pitch black.

“Oh, thank Christ!” exclaimed an amicable voice, muffled from the back of where she lied. Eddie emerged from the back of the location, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He looked frazzled, and his mane stood taller and more mangled than typical, as if he were rubbing his hands through it to tease it more. He found an ash tray in what was the kitchen area of this vague home and put out his cigarette before rushing toward Anna.

“You’re up,” he sighed with relief, positioning himself at the end of the couch where her feet were propped. “Shit, you gave me such a scare. I was really thinking that I was going to have to bring you to the hospital.”

“Where are we?” Anna croaked, furrowing her brows as she pushed herself fully parallel to her lower body. “What happened to me?”

“Water…” Eddie muttered, prompted by her hoarse tone. “You need water.” He thrusted to his feet, pacing to the kitchen sink that separated the living room. As he rummaged through cupboards for a cup, he continued. “You passed out in the Pavilion,” he stated, the cabinet creaking as he closed it shut. “I didn’t know where to take you, considering it was the end of the day and the school nurse was probably gone. I figured the hospital was a reach, so … I took you to my humble abode.” He finished filling up a glass cup with sink water, concentrated on delivering it to her as she aimlessly inspected the premises. Trucker hats lined on the walls. Empty beer cans stacked on the coffee table. Wrinkled cloth curtains that were slightly stained at the length. She was in his world now.

“I hope you’re not freaked out,” he said as he handed her the cup of water. Anna steadily took it, then downed as much of it as she could handle. The crispness relieved her lips. “I didn’t know where you lived, and even if I did, it would have been weird to have dropped you off on your porch step like a hit-and-run or something.” He smirked, intent on her hydrating herself as she downed the liquid.

Anna breathed and rested the cup on the littered coffee table. “No, I’m okay,” she insisted, nodding as she swallowed. “I just… I don’t remember much of what happened. I do appreciate you taking care of me, though.” Her smile was earnest, her facial muscles twitching as she flipped herself to place her feet on the ground. “What time is it?”

“Uh…” Eddie hesitated, his eyes finding the clock on the stove. “It’s a little after six. You’ve been passed out for a couple of hours.” He adjusted himself at the foot of the couch, ensuring that she was able to stand upright as she carried herself. “Don’t overwork yourself. If you feel like you have to go to the hospital, I can take you.”

“No, really, I’m okay,” Anna responded, her aches fading gently as she became more functional. After six… her mother would put “Missing” posters around town if she didn’t make it home in time for dinner. At the same time, she wondered if this was her only chance of peering into the Munson boy’s home and idled herself to catch as many minutes as possible with him. “Maybe I should walk around, make sure my mobility’s okay.” She pivoted almost too quickly, jerking her right ankle and nearly missing her gait as she moved. Eddie’s arms shadowed her torso to defend her misstep.

When she caught herself, Eddie huffed a chuckle, following her as she hovered onto the carpet. “No offense, Winterfield, but since I’ve been hanging out with you, I don’t think your mobility has ever been okay,” he joked. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, flexing his shoulders.

“Oh, ha, ha,” Anna replied sarcastically, finding the breakfast bar. She propped her elbows on the surface, leaning over and placing her chin in her hands. “I hope I didn’t scare you, Eddie,” she said softly after a few moments of silence. “I don’t typically faint during study dates.”

Eddie quirked a brow at her statement and followed her to the counter. “A study date, was it?” he inquired, his tone as equally inquisitive as he emphasized “date”. He stood perpendicular to her, mimicking her stature. “I wasn’t aware that school could also count for dates, but considering you passed out before I had the opportunity to take you anywhere off school grounds, I’ll take it.” He pouted slightly, his knuckles tapping together as he leaned forward onto the counter.

Anna felt herself turn red. Their proximity was just as intimate as it was the day in the woods behind Hawkins High. Timid, she straightened up, marching over to one of the leather chairs at his dinette set. “What would you consider this?” she asked, tapping her fingers against the fabric. “A casual Wednesday afternoon kidnapping?” She giggled at her rhetoric, squeezing the top of the chair.

“You don’t actually think I kidnapped you, do you?” Eddie gasped, standing to cross his arms over his chest.

“Of course not!” Anna exclaimed, blushing over his conviction. “I know if you wanted me to hang out at your house, you would have just asked. You’re not that much of a Freak.”

“So then, let’s hang out.”

Eddie pulled out one of the chairs from the dinette table and gestured for her to sit. She withdrew her chair, squinting in the blue light as the lighting enveloped her.

“What’s the deal between you and Chrissy the cheerleader?” Eddie asked nonchalantly, playing with one of his rings on his knuckles. The silver had a pale blue tint under the direct exposure of the lamp. His demeanor was forward, getting comfortable around his new companion. “Is it over Jason? I can always kick his ass if either of them is bothering you again, you know.” His offer was earnest; Anna knew Eddie would be ecstatic to get into a showdown with the school basketball star.

“I…um…” Anna heaved a sigh. How am I supposed to explain this? she thought, peering at him. She wondered if he could be trusted with her secret. So far, Eddie had shown himself as honorable: He stood up to her school bully, was becoming more active in his English class, and took it upon himself to drive her unconscious to his home to help her recover. Maybe sharing a secret with someone who wasn’t Ivy could be valuable to her future relationships. “If… if I told you something, would you promise you wouldn’t think I was crazy?” Her chest tightened as she awaited his response.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, resting his arm on its head. He pondered for a moment. “I’ve heard a lot of crazy things,” he affirmed, tasting his words. “Try me.” The legs of his chair dropped as he leaned forward, challenging her.

Anna inhaled, distracted by the glimmer of his knuckles. “So … have you read The Odyssey?” she prefaced, squeezing her eyes shut as she searched for the example that related to her. Her necromantic skills weren’t the topic of most of her conversations, and the mere mention that they existed in her world triggered her fight-or-flight responses. Eddie quirked a brow before answering.

“Uh … yeah? Like in middle school, maybe. What does this have to do with it?”

“Do you remember Circe?” she interrupted, desperate to emit her truth. Above them, the bulb of the dinette hanging lamp flickered, alternating illumination of their features with darkness. The side of Anna’s neck felt cold and prickly. She cued herself to continue before an unwanted party made their appearance and disrupted her thoughts. “She was an enchantress that could cast spells and commune with the dead. Do you remember reading about her?” As she deferred away from her secret, a ghostly force made itself more prevalent.

“Vaguely, I guess?” Eddie shrugged, his expression curious and confused. The light above them continued to stubbornly twitch, and Eddie, visibly annoyed, looked up at it with knitted brows. “This damn light’s about to go out. I should go see if I have a spare bulb somewhere.” He pushed out his chair, and the sound of the legs scraping against the tile was muted to Anna. The proximity of an invisible entity was so close to her she could feel it brush against her shoulder. Goosebumps prickled her arms, who was connected to the other side. As Eddie began toward the back of the trailer, Anna stopped him.

“Eddie, did you know a woman who used to call you… Eddie baby?”

Eddie paused. Anna’s heart froze. The presence became more demanding, forcing dialogue and using her mouthpiece as a medium for messages. Anna pressed her palms into the surface of the table to brace herself.

“What … what did you say?” Eddie stammered, slowly turning to look at her. He was startled, Anna knew, struggling to inquire.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut. “There’s a woman. She has dark brown hair, like yours. Did you know anyone you called you that?” Anna’s voice was chilled. This was the strongest contact she had since she began to repress her powers. She couldn’t bear to make open her eyes to look at him.

There was a long, awkward silence between the couple. This was the end, Anna figured.

“Yeah. My mom.”

Eddie finally broke the silence. Anna opened her eyes to peer at him. He was gazing at the whites of his shoes, in shock. “That was her nickname to me when I was a kid. But how did you know…?” His voice trailed off. Eddie mustered up the courage to lock eyes with her. His own were bewildered and wide, and no longer the soft hues that melted her in reassurance.

“I’m like Circe,” Anna breathed, pulling back upon her confession. “And that,” she paused to point up to the light, “is not a damaged light. It’s your mom’s way of making her presence known.”

Eddie gasped gently, his mouth agape in panic. “Holy shit,” he whispered. He slowly began towards Anna’s direction, his gait slow and hesitant, as if Anna were a predator. “So…” he breathed, pulling himself down to sit again. “You can talk to the dead.” He said it in a way that indicated he was still processing the information.

“You said you wouldn’t think I was crazy,” Anna insisted, her voice desperate.

“Yeah, I said I wouldn’t think you were crazy; it doesn’t mean I can’t find this to be crazy!” he exclaimed, wildly gesturing toward her frame in distress. Anna cradled her head in her hands, using her covert tactics to try to push the spirit away. Eddie’s mother was stubborn and insistent in spirit, much like her kin. Messages flooded her brain, fragmented and scattered, waiting to be translated. The longer the delay, the more invaded Anna became with outside material.

“She’s sorry she left,” Anna whispered, talking into her wrist in her translation. “She didn’t want you to leave you with your dad, but she knew it would have been a custody battle.” She forced her head up to Eddie staring at her incredulously.

“Mother of the year award, leaving the kid with the convict,” he snapped, his voice quivering in retaliation. Anna recognized his hurt, and it only made her want to fight off his mother’s spirit more.

“I can stop,” Anna interjected. “She just--she has a lot to say, and she doesn’t want to leave.”

“No.” Eddie’s tone was firm. His gaze was glossy and reflective. He looked like he was battling tears. “What else does she have to say?”

Anna focused on the influx of images that were delivered to her. She was given pieces of the Munsons lives before the entity’s passing: A snippet of the brown-haired woman with what appeared to be a young Eddie, no older than toddler-age. Within seconds, an argument was depicted between the same woman and a larger man, resulting in the woman storming out of a similar trailer. At the end of the clip, translations of what appeared to be the woman’s life, highlighted with what looked like drug use with the presence of needles, the woman staggering along the street, alone. Vocal messages then appeared, a wealth of information given to the teenage girl to summarize decades of a broken and abandoned relationship.

“She…” Anna paused, perfecting the translation. A slow smile appeared on her lips. “She’s proud of you.” The necromancer looked up at her new friend, now forlorn. “You’ve grown into a respectable man, despite your setbacks. She admires that you fight for what you believe in. She just wants you…” Anna recollected her thoughts. “…she wants you to stop dealing, or at least take a break from it.” Anna waited for more before continuing and emitted a chuckle at her final message. “She says it’s going to be hard to graduate if you’re arrested for possession.”

Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears. A single tear fell down his cheek as he stared into Anna’s eyes, and once he realized his skin was moistened, he hastily wiped his face with the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Fuck,” he spat in embarrassment, turning away from Anna to block his actions. Anna felt compelled to reach out to touch his free wrist.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. She squeezed his wrist to comfort him. His mother’s presence slowly began to fade, and her body temperature warmed to its standard warmth. The pressure of the entity released. His mother’s messages were clear. Anna heaved a sigh. “I know that was really scary,” she explained. “But I haven’t dealt with a presence that strong in a very long time. She really wanted to let you how she was feeling.”

Eddie retreated from her reach slightly, still in shock and embarrassed. “That… that was a lot,” he admitted, staring away from Anna. He wiped his eyes a final time before turning to her. “But thank you,” he said softly, hesitantly making eye contact again. “I haven’t seen my mom since I was six, so … it was nice to know she’s still looking out for me.” He rubbed a single hand into his scalp, trying to shake off the transaction.

Anna lightly smiled, relieved that he appreciated her spiritual feedback. A sense of peace washed over her. This was crazy, she told herself, but he was open to her crazy. His human response was to stop and process her otherworldly communication, not to run and hide or mock her for messages. She cleared her throat before speaking up. “So… you don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked, her voice meek and hopeful.

Eddie laughed, a stark contrast to his emotions moments before. “You’re fucking nuts, Winterfield,” he shook his head, his bangs brushing against his eyes. He pushed them away with a skull on one of his fingers. “But lucky for you, I’m attracted to crazy.” A flirtatious smirk covered his lips as he leaned toward her. “By the way, I have so many questions about this gift of yours. Maybe you can help me with some D&D material.”

Anna shook her locks in reply, scoffing at his proposal. “Sure. Fire away,” she invited him, gesturing extravagantly with her arms.

Anna felt a sense of belonging to Eddie and his understanding. She spent the start of the school year attempting to be someone that the world asked her to be. Despite sharing something that would be unbelievable to someone else, Eddie welcomed her. She pondered if she should share her vision about Chrissy with Eddie, but listening to him and his genuine curiosity about her made Anna disregard its urgency for the time being. For now, she was in Eddie’s world, and she wasn’t interested in leaving. Today, she gave herself permission to have this moment of serendipity.

Author's Notes: So sorry for the delay, it's been a crazy couple of weeks. I won't be uploading this upcoming Sunday because I'm going on vacation. If anyone wants to bounce some ideas as to how I can tie the Vecna plot with the new characters for future chapters, I would love some ideas. I was thinking about having Ivy linked to Jonathan to format the rest of the gang coming into future chapters. I would love to know your thoughts! Happy reading!

Chapter Text

007.
Blow the House Down.

Author's Notes: Hi friends. Long time, no see. It's been a *crazy* few months for me, and I came across some writer's block trying to continue this tale. I think I have an idea of what direction I want to go with this story, but in the meantime, enjoy some cotton candy fluff. All kudos and comments are appreciated!

“This … is where you live?”

Eddie’s eyes drifted from the steering wheel to the glass opening on the passenger side of the van, peering up at the Victorian-style bones of Anna’s home. A soft whistle passed his lips, and Anna couldn’t translate if this was a sign of impression or disbelief. She pulled at the breast strap of her seatbelt, gingerly pressing the button that linked the belt at her left side. Anna was in no rush to leave Eddie’s side, especially since reprimands and distress would be her mother’s greeting at the door.

“It is,” Anna sighed, slouching in the passenger seat. Her eyes matched Eddie’s direction, taking in the height of her house in the evening light. The front porch light from the wrap-around porch was bright, almost beseeching, and each window was illuminated and active. The pathway to the entrance was shadowed after the gate entrance that met the sidewalk, privatizing the property from passersbys. The home’s structure was probably more eclectic than the newer modern houses that were being built in Loch Nora since the onset of the news of the supermall that would swarm the tiny community in six months’ time. Her father appreciated the original architecture that was established in Hawkins, and the purchase was a compromise by his wife if she was able to “modernize the creepy, old place” from the inside.

Anna begrudgingly shifted in the fabric of the passenger seat. A half hour ago, she was immersed in the Munson residence, taking the color of the misfit’s eyes while he chatted about the hierarchy of creatures in Dungeons and Dragons, and how he felt her gift was much like the Psionicist. She learned that, like her, the creature’s powers were exerted by their mind as opposed to outside resources. He spoke with what she perceived as reverence as he continued about the similarities, and the recalling event alone warmed her chest. He appreciated the one thing she was forced to conceal for all these years.

“Place is fit for Royalty,” Eddie’s voice competed her memory and the hum of the old van. His vehicle was out of place with the Mercedes and BMWs that aligned the driveways of Anna’s street. Anna observed that a vaguely familiar Ford Galaxie that had to be at least a decade old parked parallel to her residence. It appeared as out of place as Eddie’s Chevrolet. Interrupting her disassociation, Anna turned to her new companion and made an awkward request.

“Do you … want to come inside?”

Eddie’s brow shot up inquisitively. An entertained grin spread across his lips, igniting Anna’s anxiety.

“I-I mean, it’d make it a lot easier on me to explain where I was,” Anna choked. “I don’t typically stay out without calling, and having you with me would be more, I don’t know, believable? You don’t have to if you don’t—”

She was interrupted by the cut of the engine. Eddie pulled his key from the ignition and shoved it in his pocket. “I don’t mind,” Eddie replied breezily. “I’m good with parents.” He winked jokingly before exiting the driver’s side of the van. Anna’s exit was delayed by the sudden realization that she just invited Eddie Munson, Hawkins’ local Satanist, into her home to meet her ultra conservative parents. She tried to fathom Eddie’s and her parents’ interactions and make sense of what Eddie constituted as “being good” with parents, especially her own.

Anna shuffled out of the car, the slam of the car door behind her echoing in her ear. As the couple approached the gate, Eddie effortlessly opened it before her and gestured for her to pass first. Her heart was beating in her throat as she approached the arched entrance, her figure darkened until brightened by the porch light.

She studied the historic home, her chin drifting to her right and upward to where her bedroom window was located. As she shifted, she concocted a makeshift plan to approach the porch, have Eddie lift her up to the shingles that supported the lower level, for her to then haul him up and enter through the portal. It wasn’t too steep of a climb, and with enough precision, they could keep their shadows hidden from the lit dining room window that was parallel to hers.

The jingle from the chains of Eddie’s jeans danced in her ears as he walked in proximity, softly soothing her with the knowledge that she might have support. The mental blueprint dissipated. Eddie nudged her arm playfully after they concluded on the steps.

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her, his voice softer than usual. He could sense her nerves. “You just lost track of time.” Anna shared a polite smile.

“Yeah. That … interview for the school paper went longer than expected.” He nodded in affirmation of their shared plot. Anna knew the narrative of her fainting would not settle well with her mother’s stomach.

Anna’s shoulders shifted downward in hopes to calm herself. In less than six hours, she had entered the most imitate part of his world, his home, and interacted with figures that gave some background into the person he was. And now, he was entering hers. She exhaled exasperatedly, mentally preparing herself for the chorus of questions and concerns from both of her parents. Instinctively, Anna reached for the brass doorknob, predicting it was already open. The lock clicked; of course it was. They were probably waiting in the foyer for her, arms crossed, prepared with “We aren’t mad, Anna, just disappointed,” lecture…

Anna attempted to make herself as feeble as possible coming through the entrance. The door opened slowly, hesitantly, the outcast listening intently for sighs of relief or cries of disappointment. Instead, she heard casual conversation.

“Ivy, your mother would be so cross with me if she knew you didn’t eat yet,” Mrs. Winterfield’s voice echoed across the hall from the kitchen. “Are you sure you and your friend aren’t hungry?”

Ivy? Fuck, Anna’s mind raced. But who…?

“No, thank you, Mrs. Winterfield. I won’t be staying much longer,” a masculine but meek voice replied. “Just want to ensure Ivy has a ride home.”

The teen’s crystal eyes widened as she tiptoed into the foyer with her misfit partner lingering behind her. Jonathan…

“There you are!” Ivy’s raven locked whipped around as if she were on fast-forwarded scene on a VHS. She marched down the main hall of the luxurious residence, Jonathan Byers’ withdrawn hues trailing behind her. There he was, the Ford parked on the street that clearly didn’t belong on this side of Hawkins. The lightbulb went off, offering clarity to the teen.

Ivy’s hands gripped the upper arms of Anna’s body as she carefully examined her. “Are you okay? Where have you been? Did something happen? You had me sick!” Ivy mothered Anna more than her birth parent. Her dark peer smacked on open palm on her nearest arm, which snapped Anna back to reality.

“Ivy, what the fu—?”

She was smothered in a forceful embrace. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” her friend sighed breathlessly. The hug was as quick as her greeting. She peered over Anna’s shoulder glaringly, her thick black brows furrowed together. Her hands fell to her sides and balled into fists before she stomped in her knee-highs toward the alleged culprit. “You son of a bitch!” she seethed as she charged toward Eddie accusingly. Her voice was a low growl, enough for the culprit to hear but not loud enough to startle Anna’s parents.

Within moments, Jonathan Byers was on her left and Anna was on her right, pulling her back before other profanities ensued. Eddie looked petrified, confused, and slightly embarrassed. This wasn’t the way to make a good first impression.

“Ivy, calm down,” Jonathan insisted. Ivy nudged her way out of his grip.

“Nothing happened, Ivy,” Anna chimed in beseechingly. “He just drove me home. Nothing. Happened.”

Eddie raised his hands in defense, backing toward the front entrance. The squeaks of his soles vibrated throughout the foyer. “I’m innocent,” he claimed flatly, still keeping his palms opened. “We did an interview and lost track of time.” Though collected, fear of the goth reflected in his eyes. He wasn’t lying when he said she scared the shit out of him, Anna reflected.

“Kids, is Anna here?” Mrs. Winterfield’s voice followed her into the main hallway near the stairwell where the quartet stood. Her eyes matched her daughters, a maternal heirloom of their own, but appeared more tired, more distressed, prompted by the hours of her daughter’s missing.

Anna had an overall clean record of coming home promptly from school or communicating otherwise via phone when she went to Ivy’s house or stayed longer for “The Weekly Streak”. Little to her mother’s knowledge, her daughter did everything she could to afflict her as little as possible, remaining quiet and docile in the Pageant Queen’s shadow, despite her appearance that made her reputation imply otherwise. The only time a phone call wasn’t made was when she was forced to attend Brownies in elementary school and participate in a weekend camping trip. After that weekend in particular, Brownies was never spoken about again. The Winterfields shaped Anna to need one or both of them so eagerly; until her teens, they were all she’s ever really known.

Maureen Winterfield was Hawkins, Indiana’s version of a Stepford Wife: clean, manicured, and made-up for no one in particular. She had spent so much of her life portraying herself to be prim and proper, and as a mother, she expected the same from her daughter. Sometimes Anna caught a glimpse of the mask falling; the ghost of her past self was reminisced in memories she had “at Anna’s age” in attempt to relate to the girl. But this evening, Mrs. Winterfield took the role of concerned housewife, her eyes youthful surrounded by soft lines that were the telltale signs of aging.

“Anna, you know better than this,” the maternal figure huffed, approaching her daughter for a stark embrace. Disappointment dripped from her voice but was portrayed as relief. “I thought you were as gone as the Byers’ boy.” From her peripheral vision, Anna noticed Jonathan’s face fall. She could read the trauma of the experience with his brother just from her mother’s dramatics alone.

The teen awkwardly cleared her throat to signal to end the hug, backing away and preparing her predetermined speech to introduce Eddie. Before she had the opportunity, Mrs. Winterfield’s eyes widened in interest about the mysterious boy standing behind her daughter. “And who might this young man be?” Maureen quipped, peering at Eddie from his boots to the disheveled hair mopped on his head.

Eddie promised a performance, and he was going to deliver. He shared a half-smile, stepping forward to present himself. “My name is Edward Munson, Mrs. Winterfield. I’m a friend of Anna’s.” He reached out and exposed an open hand, his rings glistening against his knuckles. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Anna peered at the boy in shock, her mouth agape. Ivy mimicked her expression. Edward Munson? When did the town rebel go from Satanic mascot to Ivy League graduate?  To her continued surprise, Mrs. Winterfield accepted the greeting by presenting her ruby, almond-shaped nails. “The pleasure is mine,” she breathed, craning her neck to Anna’s direction. “I didn’t realize Anna made a new friend—”

“Because she didn’t,” Ivy spat disgustedly, evoking a firm warning nudge from her fellow goth.

“Yeah, Mom, he’s a newer friend,” Anna chimed in, emphasizing their newfound relationship. “I have a deadline for the newspaper due tomorrow, and Edward here…” his name sounded so foreign to her as she gestured toward him, “…is in a band, and he was nice enough to agree for an interview for my … music spotlight … in The Weekly Streak.” She inhaled slightly, attempting to believe her own lie. Eddie continued to display his cocked, polite grin, his facial expression unwavering in Anna’s ruse.

Mrs. Winterfield nodded gently, translating the information as she returned to Eddie’s face. It silently surprised her how similar he looked to her own husband when they were teenagers. Ivy’s eyes bulged and she scoffed at the story. The more she contributed, the more Jonathan Byers looked desperate to escape. Something about opposite personalities attracting.

“Wow, is that right?” Ivy feigned interest in Anna’s tale. She blanketed her arms across her chest, the puffed sleeves of her midnight sweater dropping from her arms. “So I suppose the interview also involved Edward here posing as his best knight in shining armor, carrying you away in his van off the quad this afternoon, as Candance Chung told me when I went looking around the school for you this afternoon?” She glared daggers at Eddie, her brows raising at him expectingly.

The color fell from Anna’s face. She froze in place, her winter hues bouncing from Ivy’s face, to Eddie’s, to her mother’s. Mrs. Winterfield’s relaxed expression transformed into a slight grimace, her lips pursed but stoic enough to keep the lines in her forehead flat. During the grueling three seconds, Anna looked desperately at Eddie. His eyes gleamed “don’t panic.”

“Well, Ivy,” Eddie began, empathically stating her name. “What Candance Chung probably didn’t see was that Anna twisted her ankle in the library, and she was concerned that she wasn’t able to walk on it, so I offered her a hand to continue the … interview…” he paused, registering their shared tale, “… at my house so she could ice her ankle and finish her assignment.” Eddie nodded affirmatively, and Anna responded with her own enthusiastic bobs.

“Exactly! See, good as new,” she lifted her left leg and displayed her ankle. Her voice sounded three octaves too high for her. In attempt to escape, she redirected Ivy. “Ivy, you know, while you’re here, I have those History notes that you needed—”

“I didn’t need History notes,” Ivy replied flatly.

“They’re actually in my room, if you want to—” Anna’s thumb pointed up the stairs.

“I said, I don’t need—”

“Ivy. Now,” Anna grunted through folded lips. She took her friend by the arm and lead her up the stairs, leaving an awkwardly smiling Eddie and a more awkward Jonathan Byers in the foyer with her mother. Another male voice made its presence known out-of-view from the stairwell.

“Maureen, is Anna home?” the soprano inquired.

Anna shouted back in response. “Yes, Dad, just got in!” she confirmed, before jogging up the remaining stairs with her friend trailing behind her. Her heart only raced more as his entrance erupted her ears, inquiring who the “new young man” was standing in his home. He began chipper greetings and conversation as the childhood friends rounded the corner and entered Anna’s room. So much for good first impressions, Anna thought shamefully.

---

Ivy’s shoulders slumped as she passed the doorway of Anna’s room, and once present, Anna nearly slammed the door behind her. “What the fuck is your problem?” Anna demanded, her eyes brimming with frustrated tears as she turned to her so-called companion. What difference did it make if Anna spent the afternoon with Eddie instead of Ivy? Why was she, of all people, trying to rat her only friend out, at that, because she didn’t understand the full scope of the afternoon Anna had?

Ivy’s guilty shoulders broadened in defense at the remark. “What the fuck is my problem?” she retorted, pointing a black nail into her chest. “What’s yours? Listen, if you wanted to go on a romantic escapade with the town Freak, it would have been nice to have gotten a heads-up. I would have gone along with the story once the details were ironed out.”

“Ivy, today was anything but romantic!” Anna’s hands flailed to her scalp and she paced the room as she squeezed her follicles. “I passed out in the quad—”

“You what?” Ivy’s defenses took the backseat.

Anna paused. She prioritized a deep inhale to ease her racing thoughts. After three seconds, she exhaled exasperatedly, desperate to calm herself. She took position next to her friend on her bed, cupping her hands in her own.

“I saw something today,” she sighed, her tone serious. “Something … something not right.”

Ivy quirked a filled-in brow. “You mean, like an apparition…?”

“Yes. Like that, but not the usual kind. Something more …” She pursed her lips, searching for the word in her mind. “Sinister.”

“Huh.” Ivy sighed noncommittally, processing the words to find an appropriate response. “Like a demon…?”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Anna’s hands released her friend’s and she slapped the sighs of her thighs in confusion. “It involved Chrissy Cunningham. The moment I looked at her, I saw a morbid version of her. Like she was dead… or maybe undead. Whatever she was, she wasn’t inviting.” A long pause stifled the air surrounding them. Anna stood again and began pacing, her feet working the same way in which her thoughts passed. “I was with Eddie when it happened. I got sick and had to leave the library. He followed me … and that’s when I passed out.”

Ivy stared, her brows knitted together as Anna ranted on. What was the significance of Chrissy Cunningham? Why, of all people, would something “sinister” want her? Ivy was able to translate what Anna shared with her as far as her visions were concerned, but with this new entity, she had a difficult time following along.

Anna took her silence as permission to continue. “When I woke up, I was in his house. Well, his trailer,” she clarified. Ivy’s eyes became more almond-shaped than ever.

“So you pass out, and he takes you to his trailer? Not home, not the hospital – his trailer?”

“Ivy, it’s really not as bad as you think!” she protested, standing again. “He didn’t do anything, and he … he took care of me. I even…” she hesitated, unsure if Ivy could understand the impact of the following statement. “I even saw his mom,” she concluded in a more hushed tone. She hung her head, recalling his reaction. She saw him hiding his tears. “It’s really been a long day, and I’m beyond exhausted. I’m scared shitless, man, you have no idea.”

“So what are we doing to do about this undead business?” Ivy asked passively, seemingly ignoring the mention of the misfit’s deceased mother. “What does it mean?” Her logic overlapped Anna’s emotional state. Ivy preferred logos to pathos, in all forms. It was the one power Anna admitted she wish she could have.

She observed Ivy pondering, rubbing her thumb and index finger against her chin. “I really don’t know. What I do know, though, is that Chrissy is in trouble. I don’t know how to tell her—”

“Does Eddie know about this?” Ivy’s hand dropped from her chin. Her expression darkened as she turned to Anna, serious.

“About Chrissy? No…” Anna trailed off. She pivoted on her heel to brace herself from the backlash she was anticipating. “But me, though…”

“What do you mean about you?”

“He… knows, Ivy,” Anna replied, rubbing her hand against her limp opposing arm to calm herself. “I had to tell him. I just told you, I saw his mom…”

“Are you insane?” Ivy stood abruptly, her eyes protruding in fear. “He knows you can see the other side? Congratulations, Winterfield. You may just as well be nominated for Hawkins’ Freak and dethrone your new boyfriend—”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Anna whisper-shouted empathically. “And he was scared, at first. But after his mom got her message through, he seemed … interested. He even wanted help with his new campaign with my knowledge of the afterlife.” Anna shared a soft smile, feeling a heated blush occupy her cheeks. Ivy exhaled deeply, an attempt to snap her friend out of whatever ooey-gooey inner goodness she was daydreaming about.

“Anna, this could be so dangerous,” Ivy attempted to snap her friend back to reality. “You know your parents already worried about it. You’ve done everything you could to control it. But now, sharing it with someone you’ve known for five minutes? Come on, he could tell his entire horde of followers tomorrow at lunch, and then they’ll tell their friends, and they’ll tell their friends, and before you know it, you’re Hawkins High’s Lorraine Warren.” She shook her head dejectedly. “It sounds a lot cooler than it actually will be, because this town will crucify you for it.”

As Anna opened her mouth in rebuttal, the squeal of the hinges of her door frame echoed through her bedroom. The door opened slowly, and there stood Jonathan, making his frame as small as possible. His eyes were widened in what appeared to be embarrassment, as if he knew he was caught eavesdropping.

“I- … I don’t mean to interrupt,” he stammered, putting a hand up in defense. He turned to Ivy. “I just, I just really have to get going, and I wanted to see if you needed a ride, Ivy.”

“Jonathan,” Ivy breathed, peering at her almost-boyfriend inquisitively. “How much of that conversation did you hear?” To this day, Anna still struggled to understand their relationship dynamic.

“Probably a lot more than I should have.” He turned on his heel, scoffing in confusion as he made his way toward the hall.

“Fuck,” Ivy muttered, walking after him. “I’m coming.” As she made her way to his side, she turned toward Anna. “We’ll talk more about this on the walk to school tomorrow, yeah?” She pointed, her opposite hand on Jonathan’s shoulder as she approached him from behind. She accepted her friend’s silence as an affirmative.

Jonathan paused before making his way down the hall. He lingered for a second, his actions seemingly as if he was debating to share additional information. Gingerly, he turned. “Anna…” he started. “If … if you have a few minutes after the paper tomorrow, I want to show you something that I might need some help with.” He pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he inwardly continued. “I think this … power … of yours will be good for it.” Both girls stared at the boy in confusion, and Anna took a moment to reflect on the Byers boy. She remembered, mere months ago, Ivy told her that the dejected teen found his mother trying to communicate with his missing brother through Christmas lights. She found herself trying to rationalize the situation as another modality to communicate with the next plane, when it could have simply been erupted grief and mental illness.

“Okay,” Anna confirmed hesitantly. “I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight, Jonathan.”

“Goodnight.”

“7:30 AM tomorrow!” Ivy called from the hall as she continued with her partner. Anna quietly tsked. The poor kid was going to get an earful from Ivy on that car ride home. Ivy’s rants stretched time, making a simple five minute drive feel like five hours.

Just as Anna was able to breath a sigh of relief from the audience exiting her home, she remembered a certain metalhead was being cornered downstairs by both of her parents.

---

The dejected teen caught the tail-end of a conversation that was overpowered by her executive father as she raced down the stairs. “And wow,” her father continued, seemingly conversing with mostly himself, “I can’t believe it. Pete and I’ve known each other for what would you say, 20-some-odd years, right, Maureen?” She caught a glimpse of her mother nodding with feigned interest.

Eddie listened intently as Anna’s father recalled his “messing around” with Peter Mensch in graduate school, having met in the same business program. He looked up at Edmund Winterfield as if he just shared Eddie had won the lottery. Anna quirked a brow at his intrigue, making her presence known with a thump on the final stair at the mouth of the elaborate staircase.

“Anna Banana!” her father declared enthusiastically. Anna’s pale features reddened with embarrassment, brightening more when she observed Eddie’s mouth twist to avoid himself from laughing aloud. “There she is. Everything okay with Ivy, honey? She looked in a hurry.”

“She just passed curfew and was a little nervous about it,” Anna lied, more effortlessly than the previous ones she and Eddie shared. “So Eddie, I see you’ve heard about Uncle Pete? He’s not really my uncle, you know.”

“Ah, but he’s like family. He’s known Anna since she was in diapers,” was her father’s upbeat rebuttal. The older Winterfield’s arm was wrapped around the leather shoulders of her counterpart. Anna wondered how Eddie was able to unravel the “buddy-buddy” disposition of her mostly serious investor father. Perhaps he had drank too much wine waiting for her before dinner.

“Yeah, Anna, I’m surprised you didn’t tell me you had a family member that manages Metallica,” Eddie intervened, completing his sentence forcibly. She should have known better, he only blasted Kill ‘Em All during the car ride to her place.

“Again, not really my uncle,” Anna sighed. She looked at him with puppy dog eyes, mouthing “I’m sorry” as his father chattered on to mostly himself. Eddie frowned coolly and shook his brown locks slightly, encouraging her not to worry about it.

“Ed! You staying for dinner? Maureen made a mean lasagna. My grandmother shared her recipe with her when we were first dating. Anna’s third generation Italian, you know,” he shifted in his stance, but Anna viewed that he was trying to keep his drunken balance. “My mother’s side hails from Naples.”

“You don’t say?” Eddie quipped, turning to Anna, as if asking for her permission. Anna nodded, thanking whatever afterlife god or goddess that the initial meeting with her parents didn’t turn sour. She imagined the teen to originally be kicked out before he made his way through the front door. Maybe it was a good idea she mentally chucked that segue through the window.

“Mrs. Winterfield, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to stay for dinner,” Eddie concluded. Her mother smiled politely in response.

“Wouldn’t want anyone going home hungry,” she confirmed before starting toward the kitchen. Eddie and Anna’s father followed, her father continuing to chirp away in Eddie’s ear with his arm around his shoulder like old friends. Anna watched as she made her way behind them, and suddenly, she felt lighter, not in the fainting sense, but in the way the world feels when things start to come together and make sense. Eddie looked over his shoulder at her as they turned into the kitchen, his expression saying it all: I told you I was good with parents.

 Anna shook her head with a crooked smile, leaving the fear and uncertainty of tomorrow’s meeting with Jonathan behind her. It was enough commotion for one day. She was owed a piece of lasagna.

Author's Notes: She's a little longer than normal chapters, but I think we needed a little bit of fun after two pretty serious chapters, yeah? By the way, "Uncle Pete" is Peter Mensch - and he really managed Metallica. Might have gotten the timelines off a little bit with that one, though. All feedback is appreciated! Hope you enjoy.