A/N: I have a shitton of headcanons involving Eddie and his life, and I guess now I'm going to try to put those ideas to paper. I'm not sure how long this story will be or how far I'll go with it, or if I'll even finish it. Right now, it would be an achievement to even make it through his time in the Minutemen, but we'll see. Hopefully I can write him a convincing and fleshed out life story while still keeping him the trashy man we know and love.

"This is the third time this month something like this has happened."

"That's not really that many, when you think about it."

"The month started on Friday, Edward." It was hard not to laugh at the disapproving stare his mother gave him from across the kitchen table. "Today is Tuesday. I don't think your father will be very happy to hear about this either."

"Well, ya know, ya don't have to tell him," said Edward Blake, who much preferred to go by Eddie.

His mother only glared at that and did not dignify it with a response. "You go up to your room and think about what you've done. Maybe if you pray on it till your father gets home, the good Lord will have some mercy on you."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, standing up and trudging up the stairs. He was fifteen years old, and nearly constantly in trouble at the all-boys Catholic school he attended. His parents were well-to-do, even given the current mess everyone was getting out of, where money was concerned, and they didn't take too kindly to his antics.

First of all, he barely took anything seriously, and it had taken a lot of string-pulling to get him to the current level of school he was in, given his grades. This frustrated his parents and teachers to no end, as any of them could tell that he was highly intelligent. When asked why he didn't try harder, he would feed them some line about the 'pressure currently plaguing in the school system' and then snicker as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world.

And then there was the matter of his temper. Whenever anyone did something make him mad- and there was almost always something to make him mad- it was nearly impossible for him to not fly off the handle, and this led to many a schoolyard fight, as well as him mouthing off in class and picking on anybody who had something that he wanted.

He was nothing but a punk, plain and simple, or at least that's what he was told, time and time again. His father barely looked at him anymore, and his mother was growing to resent him more each day. The unruly child was putting a strain on her marriage, and she had a busy social life during the weekdays; having to pick him up from school when he was in trouble interfered with that.

Eddie didn't know why either of them bothered. Why didn't they just leave him alone? He didn't like them and they didn't like him, so why couldn't they just butt out and let him do as he pleased? He was tired of everyone forcing their expectations on him when he couldn't give a damn either way. He hadn't asked for any of this, after all, and maybe they should have considered the fact that he might not want all this bullshit.

The fact was, he wasn't going to get anywhere different if he didn't leave. Living here meant more of the same, but, as big as Louisville was, his parents had social reach. He couldn't just disappear here, he would have to leave the city altogether. In fact, he would probably have to leave Kentucky altogether, and head somewhere else to start over. He often wondered if he could really do that; he was almost sixteen, after all, and that meant he was nearly an adult. If anyone could take care of themselves, he was positive that he could.

Maybe today would be the day he finally did it. It wouldn't be the first time he had seriously considered just packing up and slipping out the window before his father made it home to tell him what a disappointment he was, but every time he had not quite managed to convince himself before it was too late, and today was no different.

He heard the door open and close, he heard the hushed whispering of his mother as she delivered the news, and he heard the loud expletive from his father, who he was sure did not mention his frequent cursing in confession. Then he heard his least favorite part of the whole exchange, his father shouting, "Edward Morgan Blake, get your ass down these steps this minute!"

Eddie heaved a sigh before walking as slowly as possible down the stairs, as if the very weight of the task was nearly too much for him to bear. Perhaps if he pretended to be remorseful this time, the scolding would go quicker. Perhaps, but he was not very good at remorse, feigned or otherwise.

"What's this your mother tells me about you gettin' into another fight today?" he asked, glaring daggers at his son.

"I mean, I guess she's tellin' ya cos it's true," replied Eddie with an easy smirk that had earned him a fair amount of trouble in the past.

"Damn it, boy, I am tired of your smart mouth! And I'm even more tired of you always comin' home in some kind of trouble. I thought we raised ya better than that." When Eddie only chuckled at his father's words, he threw his hands up in frustration. "I don't know what to do with ya, boy! Your mother and I did everythin' we could for ya, puttin' ya in that fancy school, takin' ya to church every weekend. Don't you know ya have to answer for everything you do?"

"Yeah, but don't you have to answer for everything you do?" he asked, still smirking, still chuckling. "I mean, how are ya gonna explain all that 'unwholesome talk' ya got goin' on? Not to mention, I don't know if the good Lord in heaven likes drinkers or gossips too much, so I don't know how you and mom-"

He was not done with his little jab at their character, but his father must have been done hearing it or he would not have done what he did to stop Eddie from speaking. His father had never punched him before, had never resorted to any sort of physical violence with his son, but today, Eddie felt his father's fist connect with his jaw, and his head snapped to the side as his mother screamed.

"Michael! Should you really have-"

"That's enough from you, Mary," his father said. "You know just as well as I do that the brat is out of control. Maybe he needs a little sense knocked into him before he goes around disrespecting his parents."

Eddie rubbed his sore jaw, surprised, but not really surprised. Though his father had never hit him before, he couldn't say he hadn't suspected it was coming eventually. But, even if he knew it was coming, that didn't change the way things were. He was right about them and he knew he was; they just couldn't handle hearing the truth. They would never see that he was right about them, because they were too busy being afraid that they weren't the perfect people they pretended to be. They were so busy being afraid, in fact, that they had no time left to actually try to better themselves, and that thought struck him as so funny that he doubled over laughing.

"What the hell are you laughin' about?" his father asked, now even more enraged by the display in front of him. Eddie was still laughing too hard to speak, and said nothing. "Boy, you're insane. Go back upstairs, and don't even think about comin' back down until I say so!"

Eddie did as he was told, laughing all the way, and he sat in his room and laughed till his sides hurt. With his realization about his parents also came the resolve to do what he had always wanted to do. Maybe they were too busy being afraid to better themselves, but was he really much better? He was so busy thinking about how hard it would be to get away that he never bothered to try.

Tonight, that was going to change. As he listened to his parents eat dinner downstairs without him, he began to formulate a plan, and when he was sure that they were asleep, he packed up what belongings he thought he would need and slipped downstairs. He had only a change of clothes, a baseball bat from a very brief stint as an athlete, and his Bible and rosary. Why he thought to bring those, he could not say, but he felt that abandoning the church entirely when making such a big decision might not be the best idea.

He gathered up leftovers from his parents' meal, and then went to where he knew his father stashed extra money. There was more than enough to get him out of here, and hopefully keep him afloat until he could find income. Now all that was left was for him to get out of the city, and so he headed for the train station.

Soon, he would be boarding the next train to New York.