My, my, looks who's alive! Another fic of mine has been consuming my thoughts. I just finished the first chapter for that one at a little over 6k words. Fun stuff. I want to post that one for Halloween (though with the Steddie big bang, who knows), but we'll see. I might hold off on that one and try an focus on this one once more? We'll see. For now, enjoy! Oh, if the @ tags don't work, or if you just don't want to be tagged like that, I'll also be using the "Pin a String fic" tag :)
[Part 1] – [Part 11] – [Part 13]
@madaboutmunson @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dijkstraspath @spectrum-spectre @epiclazershark @redheadchimechild @steddie-there @gayngerthings @manda-panda-monium @goodolefashionedloverboi
Pin a String to My Chest – 12
The reunion
Wayne had been coming to work as usual during the week Eddie was missing, confident that he'd show up fine, returning from an improvised trip he and the older boys from the club decided to go on. Nevermind the fact that Eddie hadn't called; he'd never failed to let Wayne know where he was before.
He knew Eddie wouldn't have killed that girl, maybe someone just broke into their trailer—
A full week after finding her body in the trailer, he got a call from the hospital, saying that Eddie had been admitted during the night. He spent the rest of that day as well as the night there. The next morning, the press announced his kid's innocence — to some people's surprise, apparently, if the nonsensical noise he heard from the TV was anything to go by.
They went on about a man called Peter Ballard, obsessed with the Creel murders and determined to recreate them. He chose their targets, stalked them, and killed them a few days later. Chrissy Cunningham happened to be most vulnerable when she decided to reconnect with an old middle school acquaintance.
Wayne didn't pay much attention to the TV after that. He made the calls he had to in order to stay with Eddie in the hospital, but he'd still have to work some nights. Not many, but some.
He met the people who claimed to have helped Eddie, and despite the insane story they all told him, he found he believed them. Hopper coming back from the dead — or wherever he was taken to, he supposed — and confirming it all helped. A little.
The Henderson kid was there as often as he could, often doing his homework next to Eddie's bed and talking about it as if Eddie would reply to him at any moment, tired of all the science talk. Wayne worried about the kid, but he didn't know what to tell him, especially not when the first thing he did was hand over Eddie's necklace.
Dustin was there. With him, the Wheeler girl had said. Wayne couldn't imagine what that must have been like.
Eddie had been admitted ten days ago. This was the third night Wayne had to go to work since then. He'd been doing his best to ignore the guilty looks as much as the disbelieving ones, and so far, no one had tried talking about it all in his vicinity. Now, he knew people were talking elsewhere, but as long as he didn't hear it, it should be fine.
Wayne shouldn't be here. He knew that, his coworkers knew that, his boss knew that, but apparently he didn't have a choice.
The call came close to 4 am, about two hours before the end of his shift. One of the supervisors, a man he could never remember the name of given how rarely he saw him, called out for him, saying there was someone on the phone.
"It's from Hawkins General," he clarified softly once Wayne was close enough. "Didn't say much, but I assume it's about your nephew."
Wayne was quick to thank him and walk into the office. He picked up the phone with a deep breath.
"Hello? This is Wayne Munson."
"Mr. Munson," a woman answered, sounding too chirpy for the hour. "It's Linda." Right, Eddie's nurse every other night. She was one of the nicest ones he'd met so far, always a kind word and gentle touches where his nephew was concerned. "You might want to get here soon, Eddie just woke up."
She had promised to call him if anything happened, personally. Wayne's heart was racing, at first for the fact she was calling at all, but then for the fact that Eddie had woken up. She spoke some more, though he wasn't sure he absorbed much of it.
He hung up with a promise to be there as soon as possible. He spoke briefly to his supervisor before the man was waving him off.
"Just go, I got this."
He never drove so quickly in his life.
Linda was waiting for him at the front desk, her smile widening when she saw the state he arrived in.
"I told you he was tired, Mr. Munson," she said, turning to walk further into the hospital without preambles. "You could have taken your time driving."
Wayne shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "You said he asked for me? No way in hell I'm keepin' him waiting."
Linda didn't try making small talk after that, leading the way to Eddie's room. Not that Wayne needed directions after spending most of the last ten days here, but the sentiment was nice.
She opened the door gently, letting Wayne step in first. Eddie seemed to be asleep, but it was clear he had woken up at some point; the thin blanket covered only half of his uninjured leg, the other slightly elevated with a pillow. It looked like Eddie had tried to move around. His left arm was in a sling, probably to keep him from stretching the wound on his chest and shoulder.
"Let me know if you need anything," Linda said from the door.
Wayne nodded absently as she closed the door. He moved the chair closer to Eddie's bed, the scraping noise enough to make his nephew's face scrunch up.
"Hey, kid." He kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb Eddie if he wasn't awake but letting him know he was there just in case.
"Wayne?"
God, the kid's voice was rough. He gently patted Eddie's forearm, avoiding the bandages, and kept his hand there.
Eddie's eyes fluttered open, face creasing in drowsiness and confusion. "You…?"
"I'm here, Eddie," he reassured. He was probably smiling a little too wide for what Eddie was used to, but he didn't really care. Wayne helped him drink some water from a cup left on his bedside before asking, "How are you feeling?"
Eddie moved to shrug a little, but grimaced in pain. "Achy," he said, with a scrunched up expression that told the discomfort was a little deeper than that. "What happened?"
Wayne shook his head. There wasn't much point in talking about it when Eddie looked on the verge of sleep once more. If Eddie had actually forgotten the circumstances of his injuries, he guessed having the rest of his little monster slaying group around would help more than Wayne talking about it could.
"We'll talk when I'm sure you won't forget it."
Eddie hummed, nodding slowly. "Stayin'?" He asked, slipping into an accent that didn't come out often. His eyes slipped close, head slightly turned to him. "Missed you."
"I missed you too, kid." He squeezed the arm he was still holding. "I'm not goin' anywhere, go back to sleep."
Wayne made himself as comfortable in the hospital chair as he could, not once letting go of his nephew. The kid seemed relaxed, though that might be the work of the painkillers; Wayne had been told the state Eddie arrived in, and he guessed the painkillers would be needed for a while.
Minutes passed in silence, as Wayne watched Eddie breathe. It had become routine, making sure his nephew was still there. It was because of that routine that Wayne saw his face contorting into a frown right before he groaned.
"Eddie?" He asked, leaning closer to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Thinkin'," he mumbled, slurring with sleep. "Not goin' to the concert next week, huh?"
"That's, uh, that's tomorrow, actually." Eddie let out a questioning noise that sounded awfully confused. "It's…" He trailed off, glancing backwards at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 5 am on April 7th, kid."
Eddie was staring at him, confusion clear in his eyes despite the low light. He looked away after a moment, turning his gaze forward.
"Oh," he whispered. He took a deep breath — as deep as he could, all things considered. "Okay."
Wayne couldn't help but raise a brow at his non-reaction. Eddie had been excited for this concert for weeks, going on rants about the concert whenever he lay eyes on the tickets that Wayne was safekeeping. Metallica and Ozzy. Eddie had learned a song or another from one of them, Wayne couldn't tell which one. He'd spent so much time practicing it…
"Don't look at me like that," Eddie mumbled, frowning. "Can't do shit about it now." He pulled his arm free of Wayne's hold and slowly rubbed his eyes. "Should've just—"
"Not been attacked?"
Eddie froze. So he did remember. He slowly turned to look at Wayne, who wanted to grimace as the movement seemed to stretch the bandage on Eddie's neck. His eyes were wide, looking afraid in a way Wayne hadn't seen since Lauren brought him over at 7 years old.
"I—I didn't…" His breathing picked up, and his hand pressed against the bandage on his chest. "I didn't do it." He shook his head, grimacing. "I wouldn't—"
I wouldn't hurt them.
Eddie couldn't finish his sentence, but the desperation in his eyes made it clear what he wanted to say. Wayne knew he didn't do it, that he would never hurt anyone. He knew who the actual murderer was.
"Eddie, son," he grabbed his hand, one of the few areas free of bandages. "I know, okay?" Eddie's gaze was fleeting between his eyes, looking for a catch he wouldn't find. "I need you to breathe, Eddie, as deep as you can."
It took a couple of minutes and many repeated words before Eddie was breathing easily once more. He was frowning, clenching his hand around Wayne's fingers.
"There you are," Wayne said softly. "Your new gaggle of friends made sure I knew what was going on."
Eddie's expression didn't change, but he nodded. "You… You believe 'em?"
"Got no reason not to." He shrugged. "Hopper coming back from wherever he was sure helped."
Eddie opened his mouth to question it, most likely, but all that came out was a tired sigh. "Sure, whatever."
Chuckling, Wayne patted Eddie's head, making a bigger mess of the kid's hair. He was sure that Eddie would demand a wash soon.
"Get some rest, son, I'll be here."
Eddie hummed and, surprisingly obedient, closed his eyes. He moved a little to adjust himself on the bed and was out almost as soon as he got comfortable.
It wasn't long before Wayne fell asleep as well, more tired than he'd realized after a nearly full shift.
