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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year ago

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a little ode to eddie munson, may he rest in peace. i know techincally it's not his death day anymore for me, but somewhere in the world it is. anyway, have this, its sad as fuck.

hurt / comfort, eddie and his mamma. 1.6k words

He let out a sharp breath, a pained whimper, curling in on himself on the hard ground. It was dark, wherever he was, he could tell even with his eyes closed. But it wasn’t cold, not anymore.

Here, the air was cleaner, it had an inviting smell and warmth about it. But that didn’t change the hollow feeling Eddie felt deep in his chest. He clutched it, gripping the cotton of the shirt over his heart until his nails dug into flesh and the tips of his fingers were white.

He didn’t have a heartbeat, not anymore.

He was crying. Hot tears streamlined down his cheeks and into his hair, mixed with saliva and mucus. But no blood. Not anymore.

His body didn’t ache either. The sharp needle-like teeth of the demon-bats were not slicing through his flesh and tearing out his insides anymore. He couldn’t feel the blood pooling under him and soaking into the dirt below. He couldn’t feel Dustin's warm arms wrapped around him, couldn’t hear his cries.

It was quiet here. Desolate. Almost eerie.

“Shh.” He heard a soft voice mutter from behind. It was familiar. It sounded like home.

“You’re safe now.” It whispered again, and a warm hand outstretched to stroke through his curls, “You’re safe now, my baby.”

Eddie stuttered his crying, tensing up. He was scared to look, worried he’d lost his mind and settled into a state of delusion. He slowly looked back over his shoulder to see who knelt there beside him, who lent the tender hand on his hair, who had the voice that felt like home. He wanted to see if he'd lost his mind, or if it was really who he’d hoped it was.

She smiled at him, with a halo of curls that had more spring in them than Eddies, big bambi eyes just like his own, “Mamma?”

She smoothed her hands over each of his cheeks and brushed away his sticky tears, “I’m here.” She whispered again, almost like a plea, “Mammas here, my brave boy.”

Eddie sobbed, clinging to her with dear life. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gripped at the shirt on her back harder than he gripped his own just before. His tears soaked through the fabric of her collar, but she didn’t seem to mind it. She rubbed a hand over his back and scrunched the curls at the base of his neck, humming a soft lullaby Eddie hadn’t heard since he was eight.

His heart ached. He’d missed it, her song. It was a tale of a mighty warrior who sacrificed her life to save her child, passed down through many generations of Munson women. When Eddie couldn’t sleep as a boy, she’d sit on the edge of his bed and run her trembling hands through his hair and sing it so softly until he fell asleep.

He thought it was ironic, in a way, that she used to sing this song to him and died protecting her baby, when she stepped in front of the bullet her husband intended to shoot through Eddie’s shoulder. It was fucked up, he needed an alibi or something for some dodgy shit, and so his first thought was to put his son in the hospital for one.

It’s like she’d been telling him the tale of her death his whole life, and it hurt to think about when he lay in bed alone at night, with nightmares keeping him up, with no mamma to sing him back to sleep.

She’d died for her little one, her little sheep like she used to call him, with the way he’d follow her around all day every day as a boy.

Eddie supposed it was like an ode to her, when he died for his own little sheep. When he took the bullet for a boy who was too young to be going through something so horrible, when he had so much more life inside him to live.

He never thought he’d hear the song again. He never thought he’d hear her sing it to him again, to have her arms wrapped safely around him, comforting him when he had nowhere else to go.

He never thought he’d be so lucky.

She kissed the top of his head, and his temple, and the place above his ear a hundred times over, and he heard when she choked on the lyrics and when there was a tremble in her tune.

“I’ve got you, my little sheepie.” She whispered into his ear, her voice as soft as silk and comforting him in a way he’d thought he’d lost forever, “Mamma’s got you. You’re so brave. You’re so brave.”

“I missed you.” Eddie managed to choke out, his throat hurt from crying so much, but that didn’t matter now.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except his mamma.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, baby.” Her voice was muffled by his hair, but he heard her well enough, “I missed you every day, watching you grow up. You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You’re such a beautiful boy, so brave, so good. I love you. I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too.” He cried, pulling back just enough to look at her again, because he was missing the sight of her smile already. It had been so long since he really got to look at her. It had been too long.

She looked exactly the same as she did that day, when he lost her, only this time she seemed healthier. There were no worry lines tattooed on her face, no cuts or swelling bruises, no bags under her eyes.

Oh, her eyes. They really did look just like his. Wayne used to tell him all the time, every time Eddie would look in his reflection with a sombre mood, playing with the ends of his hair and wishing it might be hers instead. It was one of his favourite things about them as a boy, that they matched. That they’d always match.

The longer he had without her, the more he doubted how similar they actually were. The more he looked at his own empty reflection, the less he saw her in his own eyes.

He sobbed, a happy cry with a wet smile as he drew a line over her cheekbone with the tip of his pale finger. He traced it over the bride of her nose and her eyebrows, dusted it over her lashes. They really were the same, big brown, soul bearing eyes. Only this time they were bright. The tears in them were not tainted with worry or fear, they were glistening, even in the dark, dripping down her face and leaving a shimmer like stardust. They were happy, and hurt, and overwhelmed, and loving.

Eddie had never seen his mother cry like this before. If he ever saw her cry as a boy, it was after his father had hurt her, and they’d burn down the gashes and bruises on her cheeks and chill Eddie to the bone.

He never thought he’d be relieved to see his mother cry, until now, when these tears told him everything he’d ever wanted to know.

That she was safe, rested, no longer scared of her own existence and worried sick about being able to put food on her son's plate.

He couldn’t believe he had his mamma again.

“I’m so selfish.” She said, sweeping his bangs back out of his eyes and laughing. It was the sweetest song he’d ever heard, to hear her laugh again. To know that he could have her laugh again, to know he could make her laugh with his terrible jokes and stupid mannerisms.

“I should be grieving. I should be cursing the world for taking you out of it so soon. I gave my life so you could have a brighter one, so you could go on and make something of yourself. I should hate that you’re here, crying on my shoulder, only twenty one and taken from that world so brutally.” She sniffled and shook her head, her voice rang in his ears and steadied the thud in his head, “But I’m so selfish. I’ve waited too long to hold my baby again. Look at you- oh, just look at you. I’ve missed you so much.”

He clung onto her again, holding her tight and making himself small in her hold, crawling into her lap like he did as a boy.

“I’ve got you now.” She kissed his brow and cradled him close to her chest, “Nothing will ever hurt you again, my baby. I’ll look after you.”

Eddie pressed himself tighter in her hold, furrowed his brow as more tears spilled. He wrapped a strand of her soft hair around one of his fingers and held it there, just like he’d been wanting to do for the past thirteen years.

“I’ll look after you too, mamma.” He whispered to her.

She sniffled and laughed softly, “We can look after each other.”

He closed his eyes and let her rock them there on the floor. She hummed her song to him, gently scratching his scalp and playing with the unmannered curls of his hair.

He was eight again, back in her arms, clinging onto her with all the life in his body, listening to her broken sobs as she sang the sweet lullaby and promised he’d be safe. Only this time Eddie was the one who was dying. He was the one who’s blood had been shed to save someone he cared about more than himself.

But it was okay, because he had her again. She could keep him safe now, she could hold his hand and brush his hair and sing him to sleep when the dreams won't let him. And he can do all the same for her.

He didn’t feel so hollow anymore.

In fact, he’d never felt so alive.

now avalible on ao3 :)

happy crying <333

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