Work Text:
Chrissy slides the box cutter through the loose tape holding the cardboard together. In Eddie’s haphazard move while he finished the album, he had essentially thrown everything he owned into some boxes and shipped them to Hawkins.
Now, they’re going through them all as they settle into their little house by the lake. So far, he’s wanted to throw out almost everything. It makes her a little bit sad, how little fondness he seems to have for his time in Los Angeles. She thinks his perspective was probably a bit different before he found out about Jamie. She shakes off the twinge of guilt. She’s getting used to the heavy weight of her mistakes, but one day, she’d like to put it down somewhere and move forward.
There’s a tattered shoebox among all of the random clothes and she shakes her head. Some things never change.
The last couple of shoeboxes she’d stumbled upon had not contained shoes, so she opens this one to check. She blinks at what she finds.
There’s a bunch of postcards and envelopes, all addressed to her. Some have her mom’s address on them, and her mom’s handwriting too — “RETURN TO SENDER”. There’s also a bunch of photos, some Polaroids and printed film, along with well-worn scraps of notebook paper with her handwriting on them, the notes she used to pass him in class.
She recognizes this for what it is. It’s his Chrissy Box. She’d know, since there’s an Eddie Box at the back of her closet, too, that looks quite a bit like this.
She clears her throat, calling out for him as softly as she can so she doesn’t wake the baby. Eddie is in the kitchen and he comes skidding into the room.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
She holds up the box a bit awkwardly. “Um, I don’t know what you want to keep in here.”
He looks down at it, his face paling. “Oh. Uh, yeah, that’s —”
He huffs out a breath and shuts his eyes. She doesn’t even notice her hands have started shaking.
This thing between them is still so new, so fragile, and she keeps waiting for him to wake up one day and see the truth —
That she’s never deserved him, and she’s only going to hold him back. She’s only going to make him worse. She’s waiting for him to see that he doesn’t actually want her, he just got confused because of the baby.
His eyes open and he swallows hard. “I think you should read them. If you want.”
That’s…not what she expected. “You do?”
He nods, more sure of himself now. “Yeah. If you don’t want to, that’s fine but — this is part of it, right?”
She cocks her head, looking up at him. “Part of what?”
He waves his hands around. “Figuring things out. Moving forward. I just — I want you to understand where my head was at. What was going on with me at the time.”
She bites her lip and stares at the contents of the box. She can’t deny the zing of anticipation that shoots up her spine at the thought of reading the words she was meant to receive eighteen months ago.
He enters the room and sits down in front of her, gently taking the box from her hands. He starts pulling out postcards and letters, occasionally grimacing, and organizes them.
“Here. Now they’re in order. Oldest to newest.”
She nods, trembling as she takes the stack from him. What would it have been like, to receive one of these letters when he actually wrote them? To see his spiky handwriting? To know he was thinking of her like she was thinking of him?
He leans forward, a little more cautious than he has been lately, and kisses her lips.
“I, uh, don’t really wanna watch you do this,” he admits. “I’m gonna organize the records and movies.”
She nods. “Okay.”
She gives him another kiss before he leaves — it feels like they both need it — and then she tentatively opens the first envelope. It’s postmarked from Illinois.
August 31, 1986
Dear Chrissy,
I miss you so much already I keep thinking about turning around. I keep worrying about you too. How are you sleeping? Are you having nightmares? Is your mom letting you eat?
I miss you enough to listen to the mixtape you made me even though you put an ungodly amount of pop music on it. It makes me think of you in the front seat. I love how you sing. I wish you were sitting there now.
Anyway, I don’t really know what I’m trying to say, other than the fact that I love you, and I don’t really know how I’m supposed to do this without you.
As soon as I have a return address l’ll send you another letter so you can write me back. This letter has Gareth’s address in LA on it.
Love,
Eddie
***
September 2, 1986
*Postcard from Nebraska*
In case you were wondering, Nebraska is even worse than Indiana. I don’t think it would be so bad if you were here. Miss you, love you.
Love,
Eddie
***
September 6, 1986
*Postcard from Texas*
This has been the most boring drive in the world. I bet you know fun road trip games to play. When you’re ready to come with me, I’ll fly home and we’ll drive together. I think we’ll make it fun. Everything is fun with you.
Love,
Eddie
***
September 10, 1986
Dear Chrissy,
I found a place with Jeff and Grant. Gareth lives close by. I’m sharing a room with Jeff and it’s hard to hide the nightmares from him. Honestly, they’ve gotten a lot worse. The shirt of yours you gave me doesn’t smell like you anymore but I’m still sleeping with it, just in case it helps.
Los Angeles is amazing. There’s mountains everywhere around the city, and the people here are all really different. No one seems to care that I’m a freak. I can walk around here and no one looks twice at me. I was a little worried someone would recognize me from the news last year but so far so good.
When you move here we can get our own place. I think you’ll love the ocean, baby. I don’t live that close to it, but it’s not too hard to get there.
I can’t wait to show it to you. I tried calling you the other day but I couldn’t get through. I miss your voice. I miss your smile. I just miss you.
I love you so much. Can’t wait to talk to you soon.
My new address is on the envelope.
Love,
Eddie
***
September 20, 1986
Dear Chrissy,
All my postcards and letters have come back to me. Gareth got all the ones I sent before I got here and he gave them to me. I finally got through to your house and your mom said you’re gone.
I don’t even know where to send this to. I don’t understand what happened. I’m happy you got out of Hawkins but I don’t understand why it wasn’t with me. You said you weren’t ready and I tried to understand. If you didn’t want to go to LA we could have gone somewhere else. Chicago. New York. Wherever you wanted. I would have convinced the guys to go.
Or I could have quit the band and just gone with you. I’m so confused, Chrissy, and I guess I’m just writing this to get my thoughts out. I can’t really talk to the guys about this. I can’t bring myself to call anyone from the Party to find out where you went because I’m a little scared of the answer. I don’t know why. Maybe they don’t even know. Your mom made it sound like you left in the middle of the night.
Even though I’m kind of mad at you, I really hope you’re okay. I hope you’re better than okay, actually. I hope you’re happy.
I still love you. I think I always will.
Love,
Eddie
***
October 11. 1986
Dear Chrissy,
Jonathan’s friend Argyle set us up with a meeting with a guy at Warner Music who loves our sound. He got us hooked up with a manager who’s really cool. His name is Brett and I think you’d really like him. He kind of reminds me of Hopper, if Hopper were younger and cooler.
We’ve been playing shows in small venues that are still sooo much bigger than the Hideout. Remember how I always dedicate a song to you? I’m still doing that. Even though you’re not here. Even though I might never see you again.
That really fucking hurts, to think I might never see you again. I feel like I’m grieving you all over again, like after you died. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know who to be anymore.
I got a tattoo on my heart that says sunshine. Even if I never see you again, I want to remember what we had and how you made me feel.
I still love you. I don’t believe in God but lately I’ve been praying you find me, somehow. But I don’t even know if you want to.
Love,
Eddie
***
November 18, 1986
Dear Chrissy,
We’re working on a single to record. I wrote it about Vecna and the Upside Down, but everyone thinks it’s a metaphor. The scars on my chest hurt all the time now, like writing about it has torn me back open or something. The nightmares are worse than ever. I don’t think I’ve slept more than a couple hours at a time in weeks.
I feel like I should be stronger and I feel like I shouldn’t miss you so damn much. We were only together for a few months. But it still feels like part of me is missing without you.
I liked who I was when I was with you. I felt brave and important. Now I just feel like me again, and I don’t like it.
Lately I keep dreaming that you found someone new, and it makes me feel sick, which makes me feel horrible because you deserve to be happy. No matter what, Chrissy. I want you to be happy. No one deserves it more than you.
If you did find someone new, I hope he loves you. Really loves you, as much as I do. I hope he remembers your favorite flowers and helps you with food and makes you feel really good about yourself.
I hope you’re sleeping. I hope you’re good. I hope you miss me, too.
Love,
Eddie
***
December 25, 1986
Dear Chrissy,
Merry Christmas. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like the holidays right now. We just finished the single, but now the label has to do all the stuff to release it. The playback sounds good. Way better than I thought we could sound.
But it doesn’t really mean anything to me. I think I’m broken. Nothing makes me excited anymore. The other night I thought about doing something really stupid, but then I imagined you finding out about it. Even if you don’t care about me anymore, I would never want to hurt you.
The guys keep trying to get me to move on. Go out and meet a girl or whatever. I don’t want to. I like that you’re the last person I kissed, that I was with. I like that all of those things were because I was in love.
It won’t mean anything if it’s not you, and I want it to mean something.
I still love you. I think I might be saying that forever.
Love,
Eddie
***
February 14, 1987
I haven’t written in a while. It’s Valentine’s Day. Red Hell is coming out in a couple of weeks, right around your birthday.
I hope you hear it, and you like it, and I hope it brings you back to me. I hope it makes you remember what you liked about me to begin with.
I hope it makes you miss me the way I miss you.
I’m starting to think I’m going crazy. I don’t want you to think that’s your fault. I just feel like I’m losing my mind.
I know you know how that feels. I wish I could talk to you about it.
As always — I still love you.
I hope if you have a boyfriend, he does something nice for you today. I would have bought you pink peonies even if they’re not in season. I would have made you a mixtape of love songs, even the corny pop ones. I would have tried to cook you dinner, and slowdanced with you in the kitchen, and I would have kissed you for hours.
Love,
Eddie
***
May 11, 1987
Dear Chrissy,
We got a record deal. I don’t know what to do with that. I’m excited as hell, but not as much as I always thought I would be.
I guess I always pictured you next to me when this happened. Even before we really knew each other, you were part of the dream.
Did I ever tell you that you’re so much better than I imagined you’d be? When you were the girl in my brain you were amazing, but I didn’t know that you were even better. I didn’t know how sweet and funny and kind you were. I didn’t know how brave and strong you were.
It’s been what, seven months now? And I still think of you every day. I still look at your picture every day.
And, as always, I still love you.
Love,
Eddie
***
July 8, 1987,
Dear Chrissy,
I’m writing and writing and writing and every song is about you. I keep fighting with the guys. I know I drink and smoke too much. I know I’m not how I used to be.
I can’t explain to them that this isn’t all about you. Yeah, I’m still fucking heartsick over you, but it’s more than that. It’s the bats. And running from Vecna. And what he did to you, and how I left you there.
I keep thinking that if I had just played music the first time we went into the Upside Down, you could have come back to life. And I could have kept you safe, and maybe it would have saved you a few days of pain in there. I can’t imagine how it felt to be awake with all your bones broken.
I had a dream about that night in my trailer and threw up. I don’t really remember it but I guess I was sobbing your name. Jeff tried to take me to the hospital.
I just — sometimes I think every girl with blonde hair is you, but there’s never enough red. I’m supposed to be moving forward but I can’t even tread water.
I still love you.
Love,
Eddie
***
August 31, 1987
It’s been a year. I’m mad at you, I miss you, I want you, I think I might have destroyed you, I wish you would come back to me.
Love,
Eddie
***
January 3, 1988
Dear Chrissy,
This is the longest I’ve ever gone without writing. I’ve gotten a lot better. I’m drinking less and smoking less. I go out with the band now and talk to people and we play shows and things are going okay.
I moved into my own place. It’s actually helped, cause I can be alone after nightmares and cry if I need to.
We’re almost done with the album, I think. Recording is weird and more annoying than I thought it would be. It’s the same thing over and over again.
Something weird happened the other night. I was at the bar after we played a show and a girl talked me up and tried to kiss me. The guys all gave me shit because I didn’t let her.
I had to leave after that. It was overwhelming. I feel pathetic that I’m not over you yet. You’re clearly over me. I never heard from you once, Chrissy, not one time.
I need to go back to Hawkins soon. The only way I’m ever gonna get Wayne to take money from me is leaving it in the trailer, and I miss him. You’d be so mad to hear I’ve never even called him once.
I’m worried I’m going to forget the sound of your voice. I wish I had recorded it.
You were always my favorite song. I hope you know that. I still love you, and I hope you know that too. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you, Chrissy. I don’t think I even want to.
I think I just want you back. I want to forget we were ever apart, that any of this ever happened, and I just want to hold you again.
I wish you were still mine. I’m still yours.
Love,
Eddie
***
Chrissy has to sit by herself for a long time, trying not to cry too loudly. She needs to feel this, needs to experience this catharsis brought on by all his scrawled words.
He was in so much pain, just like she was. He missed her so much, just like she missed him.
He never got over her, never moved on.
Just like her.
When she thinks she can stand without shaking like a foal learning to walk, she gets up. She heads to the living room, where Eddie is sitting on the floor surrounded by cassette tapes, frowning at two blank cases in front of him.
He looks up just as she crashes to the floor and tackles him, his back hitting the carpet as the air in his chest punches out of him.
“Woah, hey, hey, baby,” he soothes, his hand on the back of her head. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
She’s crying again, because of course she is. She buries her face in his neck and tries to get control of herself.
“I still loved you too,” she mumbles, voice thick and wet. “The whole time, Eddie, I promise.”
He squeezes her tight and lets out a shaky breath of his own. “I just thought it might help to know that I wasn’t — when you were pregnant, it’s not like I was off on my own living some big adventure.”
She nods. She doesn’t want to admit it, but that had been her fear. That he was off at clubs and bars, sleeping around and partying, while she was struggling with heartbreak and a pregnancy.
“I hate my mother,” she says instead. “If she hadn’t sent your letters back and told you I was gone…”
He turns his head to kiss her hair. “Sweetheart, there’s too many what ifs to go down that road.”
She props herself up, with her forearms holding her up above him balanced on his chest.
“I just — Eddie. I — you know, right? That I wasn’t meeting anyone new?”
He chuckles, reaching up to touch her face. “Other than meeting our actual baby? Yeah, I know that now.”
He flips them over and she squeals, his body hovering over her as his hair brushed her face. She pushes it back and he grins at her, his eyes a little sad but bright nonetheless.
“I don’t want you to feel bad about what was in those letters,” he says, pecking her cheek. “I just wanted you to know how much I missed you.”
He pecks her other cheek.
“And that I never stopped loving you.”
He pecks her forehead. Her heart swells, the weight of his body a warm comfort. The emptiness she felt when she read his devastated words is slowly replaced with the fullness of being here with him.
“And that I’m not gonna let you go again. I’m not ever gonna be that guy from the letters again.”
He kisses her lips, slow and soft, and she buries her hands in his hair to demand more, moving her mouth urgently against his. He groans a little, nips her lip, and pulls away.
She can’t help the way she whines, and he smirks, a little cocky, and she loves seeing him this way. She loves seeing him confident because he deserves to be. And she loves having him confident in how he’s made her feel.
“You’re always gonna know exactly where I am,” Eddie tells her seriously.
“Hopefully that’s because I’m with you,” she says softly.
His smile grows a little cautious. “If you want to be. I just — I’m gonna be there for you even if you don’t.”
She frowns, her brow furrowing and her lips pursed in the same way Jamie does.
“How could you ever think that?”
He raises his eyebrows at her tone, the ferocity of her words. “I just mean —”
“No,” she snaps. He tries to get off of her, but she holds him still. “No, stop. I missed you just as much as you missed me. I cried over you and pined after you and loved you every minute you were gone.”
He opens his mouth to speak and she cuts him off with a heated, hard kiss. This time he’s the one chasing her lips when she pulls away.
“I’m never going to let that happen again,” she tells him, panting a little now. “You’re never going to feel that way ever again.”
His smile is tender, his eyes open and raw. “Okay.”
“Okay. Good.”
They lay there together on the carpet of their new living room floor, trading slow sweet kisses that set her on fire.
She’s never going to let him get away, not ever again.
***
The next morning, she digs through the closet for her Eddie Box. He’s playing with Jamie in the living room when she brings it to him. He looks up curiously.
“I was thinking about it, and there’s some stuff you should see in here, too.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Yesterday was a little rough, maybe we should — just forget it?”
She shakes her head. “There’s not as many in here but — I want you to see them.”
He clears his throat roughly and nods. Jamie is climbing all over him like a jungle gym but his eyes are locked on Chrissy. She’s always found the intensity of his focus addictive, ever since that day in the woods.
He had barely taken his eyes off of her. Even though she was the head cheerleader and Jason’s girlfriend, no one ever looked at her that long.
Eddie gently lifts up Jamie, kisses his face, and sets him on the floor. Chrissy hands him the box.
“The letters are in order already. The rest of it is just pictures and stuff.”
She had gone through it that morning. The tab taken off of a soda can after their first date — they had loaded up a bag with junk food and sodas and watched the sunset over the lake from Reefer Rick’s dock. The bracelet he put on her wrist after their sort-of fight about Trina the theater girl. The first ultrasound of Jamie. The little notes he used to slip in her locker, little compliments. Photos snapped at bonfires and hangouts and a couple at home, too. One Wayne took of them at graduation.
And three letters.
Eddie stands with the box and kisses her, three times, and then heads to the porch to read them.
***
October 18, 1986
Dear Eddie,
I wish I knew where to send this. I wish I knew how to get a hold of you. Something…crazy happened.
I’m pregnant.
My mom kicked me out, but I expected that. I didn’t expect that I would move in with Wayne. He’s been so good to me and I’m so lucky. I see where you got your kindness and generosity.
I hope the baby will get those things from you, too.
I know I probably shouldn’t be, but I’m actually excited. We made a person! I know we’re young, and I’m scared of how I’m going to make this work, especially if I can’t find you to tell you.
I don’t want to do this alone. I know you’d tell me everything is going to be okay. I know you’d hold me and kiss me and start suggesting really silly names like Bombadil until I was laughing again.
I miss you so much and it’s a comfort to know that I’m carrying a piece of you with me.
I know you’ll be a wonderful dad. I hope I find you soon, and we can figure this out together.
I miss you so much and I love you even more.
Love,
Your Chrissy
***
February 15, 1987
Dear Eddie,
I don’t know why I’m even writing this. I’m not going to mail it. I finally have your number and you haven’t called me back. Not once.
I’m getting big now. The baby kicks all the time. I think he inherited your inability to sit still.
Oh yeah, by the way, I’m having a boy.
I would say we, but you’re not here and I’m starting to think you don’t want to be. Jeff answered your phone last night and told me you were out on a date. I cried all night. Steve came over and took care of me.
He asked me to marry him twice. If things were different, I think that would make you mad.
Don’t worry, I said no. I guess you’re probably not worried though, or you’d call me back. You probably don’t care what I do from here, but I do. It would be wrong to marry Steve. I don’t love him, and I never could. He doesn’t love me either, and now that I know how being loved really feels, I don’t think I can ever settle for less.
He’s been a good friend, though. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through this without him. Everyone else is gone. The kids are great but they’re teenagers. They’re out of their depths when it comes to a pregnant girl.
Anyway, Steve came over when I called him crying. I fell asleep after a while, and when I woke up he was still here and I just wanted him to be you so bad.
It’s been six months since you left and I haven’t heard from you once. I guess I should take the hint, huh? I’ll stop calling. Jeff made it pretty clear you’ve moved on, and I need to too.
I can’t keep drowning in how I feel about you. My life isn’t about me anymore. I already love our baby more than words can say. I’d fight Vecna a hundred times to keep him safe.
I’m going to focus on him. I’ll put all the hurt and love and missing you in my heart into him, turn all those things into something good for this baby.
He’s going to be so, so loved. I hope he looks like you. I hope he has your eyes.
I hope one day, you’ll meet him and you’ll love him as much as I do, because I know he deserves it. You do, too, even if you’ve moved on.
Maybe this is for the best. Maybe we would have gotten in your way. You were always bigger than this town, and I hope you’ve found what you were looking for.
I think I’ve found what I was looking for, too. Unconditional love. This isn’t how I thought I’d find it, but I’m grateful all the same.
I think I like the name James. Like James Taylor. I know you’d say like James Hetfield.
Anyway, this has gotten long and it’s a letter to no one. It’s a letter to a ghost.
I miss you a lot, even through all the hurt. I love you a lot, even though I think I need to learn how to stop.
Love,
Your Chrissy
***
May 28, 1987
Dear Eddie,
You’re a dad. His name is James Edward Munson, born May 28, 1987 at 2:14 p.m.
He’s absolutely beautiful. He has a full head of brown hair. He’s healthy and wonderful. I’m exhausted, but happier than I’ve ever been.
When I look at him, I see how much we loved each other. I see what we meant to each other, and how we saved each other.
When I look at him, I see my future. I see every day for the rest of my life unfolding.
I wonder if this is how you felt the first time you heard your single. Red Hell is a great song. I played it for the baby when I was pregnant and he would kick extra hard.
I’ll tell him it’s your song and keep playing it for him. Maybe one day you’ll meet him, but I’m never going to lie to him about where he came from. It’s important to me that he knows exactly who his dad is.
I want him to know his dad was the first person to ever see me. I want him to know his dad was the first person who made me feel loved for who I was, not for what I could do for them.
I want him to know his dad was a hero, and he saved me.
Even though things ended the way they did, I want to thank you for giving me this. For giving me my son.
The rest of my life started today. For the first time ever, I’m not afraid of the future.
I’ll love you forever, Eddie. I still haven’t learned how to stop, and I’m going to stop trying.
We’ll be here if you ever come home.
Love,
Chrissy (and James)
***
Chrissy barely manages to put her coffee down before Eddie barrels into the kitchen and collides with her body, tugging her roughly into him and squeezing her so hard she can’t get a deep breath in.
He sobs into her neck, tears soaking her hair.
“Oh,” she gasps, holding him back as hard as she can. “Eddie, it’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.”
Tears burn her eyes and she clenches them tightly closed. She shouldn’t have given him those letters, especially the one after Valentine’s Day.
She thought she wanted him to see she never stopped loving him, but now she worries all she’s done is make him feel worse about Jamie.
She swallows down the hard lump in her throat and runs her hands up and down his spine the way he’s always liked. He finally starts to calm down and pulls away to look at her. His face is wet with tears and she wipes them away.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I just thought —”
He shakes his head quickly. “No, don’t feel bad.”
His voice is rough with emotion.
“I wish I had come home,” he tells her. She tightens her grip around his shoulders to keep him grounded, to make sure that faraway look doesn’t come on like it does when he starts to panic. “I wish we’d been together this whole time.”
She nods. “I wish we were too. But we’re together now. And isn’t it kind of special to think that we never really let go?”
He tilts his head, confused. She’s always loved that. Like a puppy.
“What do you mean?”
“We had our shoeboxes full of each other. We wrote to each other like a diary. We still loved each other, and missed each other, and we never really let go. Don’t you think after a few months most people would have just given up and moved on?”
He considers this and nods. “Uh, yeah, probably.”
“Even though it hurt like hell we held onto each other,” she says softly, tracing his jaw with one finger. He shivers under her touch and it gives her a thrill, that she can still do that.
Eddie exhales, long and slow. “Have I ever told you I’m really happy you said no to Steve?”
She shakes her head with a little laugh. “No, but I figured as much.”
He kisses her, a little possessive in a way that definitely works for her.
“You know I’ve never not been yours, right?” he asks, brushing his nose on hers. “Since the eighth grade.”
She smiles, nodding against him. “I do know that. Especially now.”
“Good.”
They hold each other quietly until Jamie gets their attention from his high chair, impatient now that he’s finished his cheerios.
“Hey, why don’t we go to the dock tonight?” Chrissy suggests. “We can watch the sunset.”
He smiles at her, wide and bright. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
Later that day, they pack up the baby and a bag of snacks and sodas, and walk to the dock. Chrissy saves the pull tab from her soda.
She’ll start a new box. A box for their family. A little treasure chest of the sweet memories she knows they’re going to collect from here on out.