(May 1986)
Eddie wakes to an empty bed, and for a moment he is almost certain everything he thinks has happened with Sadie up to this point has been nothing more than a dream, a pit forming in his stomach until the sound of muted clinking and the smell of bacon register in his still sleep-addled mind.
A glance at the digital clock near the bed told him it was 10:30 in the morning.
Definitely not Wayne in the kitchen, then…
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and tugging the fingers of one hand through tousled curls, Eddie pads to the partially opened door of his bedroom, slipping through and following the smell of something sweeter underneath the bacon on the way to the small kitchen area. What he sees, finally standing in the doorway, brings his movements to a screeching halt, his heart hammering away in his chest.
Just one look at Sadie standing over a skillet, her back to him as she pokes at what can only be pancake batter while absently humming along to whatever is playing in the headphones attached to her ears has all hope of rational thought rather promptly leaving his brain.
She's still in his clothes. Her hair is somewhat rumpled from sleep. And before he can stop himself, or remind himself that what he is about to do is more reminiscent of something a couple would do, and they are nowhere near being one, Eddie is sneaking up behind her, his hands falling on her hips while he moves to place his chin on her right shoulder.
The shriek she gives is something he definitely saw coming, but the elbow to the gut, and specks of batter flying into his hair and splattering against his cheek and chin?
That, he didn't plan on.
Sadie's eyes remain wide—startled—for another fraction of a moment, still armed with a spatula, but then she seems to realize what on earth has just happened, her free hand yanking the headphones off while the other places the spatula on a spoon-rest near the stove.
"Oh my—oh my God, I am—Eddie, I'm so sorry!" Sadie exclaims, the pancakes and bacon completely forgotten as she moves towards Eddie, her thumb brushing away the batter that landed beneath his chin without a second thought, "Are you—are you okay?"
"I think I'll live."
"Eddie—"
"Relax, Sweetheart. I'm gonna be fine," Eddie assures, sucking in a breath as Sadie leans up on tiptoe to swipe at more batter that had landed on his cheekbone, the shirt she wears brushing against his bare chest as a result. She doesn't seem to realize it right away, her brow furrowing as she stumbles a bit in an attempt to reach a bit more batter just beside his hairline.
The act of putting her hand on his shoulder to steady herself seems to do it, though, her cheeks flushing as she looks him in the eye, rocking back on her heels with a soft huff, and clearly not noticing how Eddie's hand drops back to his side after being nearly ready to land against her hip.
"Sorry, I—do you—want a washcloth or something?"
"Now why would I want that when I've got you?"
Sadie's flush only deepens at the comment, but she doesn't step away any farther, instead peering up at Eddie from beneath her eyelashes, completely oblivious to how he seems to be holding his breath as a result. She knew he had discarded his shirt some time in the night, because when she woke, he had been splayed on his stomach across his side of the bed, and she had spent far too long eyeing his shoulder blades. The lean musculature of his back.
She had bolted to the kitchen not long after, but seeing Eddie in the dim lighting of the sun that was just starting to stream in through the curtains in his bedroom, and seeing him in the full glow of the kitchen lamp were two entirely different things.
"I don't—I didn't mean to invade your—space."
"C'mon, you know there's no such thing where you're concerned."
"You're sure?"
"Positive," Eddie assures, grinning so broadly that Sadie can see the signature dimple that always makes her heart somersault in her chest, "Do your worst, Mrs. Butterworth."
"Ha-ha. Funny."
"Shut up and clean your mess, Carver."
Sadie raises a brow at him, and for a moment Eddie wonders if he may have overstepped, especially once Sadie turns from him to head back for the stove. But before he can think of anything to say to rectify that situation, she is turning back to him, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips before she plants her hand, palm-flat, against the center of his chest…
It takes a moment, but then Eddie feels the gooey sensation of something beneath her fingers, his nose wrinkling as her grin turns into a full-fledged smile.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that."
Eddie doesn't give Sadie much time to backtrack, one hand snaking out to grab her wrist while the other dips two fingers into the bowl of remaining batter. She's shrieking and giggling and trying to get away, but he's not exactly letting up, his feet tangling against one another as he tries to pull her back to him, the resultant loss of balance sending them both staggering back against the countertop, with Sadie's lower back taking the brunt of the collision head-on.
"Aah!"
"Woah—you okay?"
"I think—I think I'll live," Sadie replies, sending his previous words back at him, her focus shifting to turn the burner warming the bacon off so that it will not burn, and thus giving Eddie leave to smear the two fingers covered in batter against her cheek, "Hey!"
"I told you you were gonna pay."
"You know, I was thinking of making enough pancakes to share, but now I'm not so sure."
"Oh yeah?" Eddie muses, one corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile as he watches Sadie's gaze drift back down to the batter on his chest.
"Yeah. Now I think I might just eat them all, myself."
"I thought I told you once that I don't do well with sharing."
"You also told me you would never fight a girl," Sadie quips, flicking her eyes back up to Eddie's, and sending him a saccharine smile, folding both arms across her chest and assuming she has an easy victory, "So I think, all things considered, I'm safe."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
"Well I may have promised never to fight a girl, but that doesn't mean I can't get revenge in other ways."
"Bring it."
Sadie regrets the words almost as soon as they leave her mouth, knowing that the smirk Eddie wears can hardly mean anything good. But she remains where she is, despite knowing if she tried to wriggle out from between his taller frame and the counter, Eddie would allow her to in a second…
His arm is around her waist in seconds, pinning her to him as he drags them back toward the stove, her laughter only encouraging him to dig his fingers into the batter again to create a matching smear on her other cheek.
"Eddie!"
Squirming around in Eddie's arms, Sadie shivers against the laughter that reverberates through Eddie's chest, her gaze distracted by the spider tattoo resting high on his chest. She is possessed by a sudden desire to trace her fingers across its edges. To do anything to feel the warmth beneath Eddie's skin.
To rid herself of such foolish notions, because she can feel Eddie's gaze turning warmer, somehow, Sadie turns to dip her own fingers in the batter, leaning up on tiptoe again to drag the stuff in a path from the bridge of his nose, all the way down to his mouth.
What she does not expect, though, is for Eddie to drag the two fingers she used into his mouth as soon as they brush over his lips, the warmth causing a funny little pull in her abdomen while his own fingers curl lightly around her wrist.
"Ed—Eddie—"
Her eyes flutter closed even as she manages to persuade his name past her lips, and Sadie almost mourns the loss of contact when Eddie releases her fingers, now batter-free, his voice low—almost raspy—as she forces her eyes open in time for him to speak.
"You kept uh—missing the mark, so I thought I'd—help."
"And did—did it—"
"Taste good?" Eddie finishes the question for her, aware of her faint nod and the renewed flushing in her cheeks, her eyes almost shining as she continues looking at him, as though his answer will either please her, or destroy her entirely, "Yeah. Yeah, it did."
"Oh. G—good."
"Sadie?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I—I'm fine," Sadie manages, aware of how Eddie is risking a step closer, her head tilting back to continue looking him in the eye while his hand moves to rest against her cheek. His palm is warm. So warm, and before she knows it, her own hand is lifting to rest beside the mess of batter at the center of his chest.
Eddie seems to spend a moment or two in silent deliberation before ducking down towards her, and Sadie's heart very nearly slams to a stop inside her chest…
And then she smells it. Something burning…
"Eddie, the pancakes!"
Whatever might have happened is quickly forgotten as both Eddie and Sadie scramble to salvage her attempt at breakfast before it turns into an actual fire, and Sadie does what she can to squash the lingering sense of regret that things did not have a chance to go farther. She wonders what it might have felt like to have Eddie's lips on her own, and not just around her fingers…
She carefully avoids his gaze while they fix the pancake mishap, never once suspecting that Eddie is wondering the exact same thing.
…
(Present Day)
"Would you hold still?"
"How am I supposed to hold still if it feels like you're trying to gouge out my eyeball?" Sadie retorts, the words carrying no venom at all, and even provoking a snort of amusement from Robin before she leans back down, armed with an eye pencil that has Sadie fighting with all she has not to smack out of her friend's hand, "Seriously, I don't see what was wrong with—what I had before."
"What you had before was what you would look like if you were going to a tea party, or book club. We're going for something a little more—risque."
"Risque?"
"Risque," Robin repeats, using her free hand to hold Sadie's chin, effectively keeping her still so she can finish her work around her eye, "We're going to The Hideout. Not a charity ball."
"So—I'm supposed to look like a hooker."
"Woah. That's a little too risque."
"I'm not sure this is exactly an attractive look for me, Robin," Sadie protests, allowing Robin to use the hold she has on her chin to move her face to a better angle, the momentary silence serving as all the proof she needs to realize her companion is not about to agree at all.
"Cut the crap, Sadie. You look hot."
"She's uh—she's right. For the record. You do."
"Steve!"
"What? I can say it objectively," Steve shrugs, aware of the incredulous expression on not only Robin's face, but Sadie's as well, though the latter sobers enough to turn the conversation in another direction entirely.
"Where's Chrissy?"
"Still downstairs. Watching Cinderella."
"You're sure taking her with us is a—good thing?"
"Gareth invited her, didn't he?"
"He did," Sadie confirms, frowning until she realizes Robin is placing her finger beneath her chin once again, clearly not completely satisfied with the status of her makeup, and giving her no choice but to allow the other girl to tilt her head to the other side, "But it's a bar—"
"A bar in Hawkins, Sadie. Not exactly something that would scar a little girl for life."
"But what kind of mother—"
"Trust me, taking your kid with you to the bar? A lot better than the alternative," Steve says, ignoring the matching frowns Robin and Sadie send his way because he knows they are almost instantly thinking of his own upbringing whether he wants them to or not, "She's gonna be fine."
"It still feels—like bad parenting."
"Bad parenting would be leaving her with a sitter every chance you get. Not a sitter you already know because he's a family friend. Just so we're clear."
"Steve—"
"And that's not what you're doing."
"I think that's Steve's way of saying you're not getting out of this," Robin adds, grinning almost conspiratorially at Sadie as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup, and stands back to admire her handiwork from a better vantage point, "What do you think, Dingus?"
"What do I think about what?"
"The shade of lipstick she needs."
"Oh, I—I have pink," Sadie begins, a startled laugh escaping as she watches Robin make a comically disgusted expression, while Steve covers a snort with a feigned attempt at a cough, "Or—or not."
"Definitely not. I'm thinking—red."
Knowing she will stand little to no chance of talking Robin out of the shade, Sadie simply remains silent, sharing a knowing smile, albeit an exasperated one, with Steve as he leans back against the doorframe to watch as well. Robin had already roped her into wearing a pair of snugly fitting dark blue jeans, and a faded Corroded Coffin t-shirt tied at the waist to make it seem less bulky…
Not much of her appearance was through any sort of conscious choice of her own, but even then Sadie can't entirely find it in herself to complain.
Even when they all venture back downstairs and Chrissy absolutely begs Robin to do her makeup too, Sadie would be a liar to pretend she isn't happy to have this time with friends.
Nerves notwithstanding, it's not exactly something she ever thought she would know again.
…
"Oh no. No, no, I don't need—"
"C'mon, Carver. Live a little," Steve protests, pushing the shot glass of—tequila, of all things—Sadie's way, and watching her intently until she picks it up with a bemused frown, "One shot won't kill you."
"Yeah, but the idea is to have more than one," Robin teases, gratefully accepting her own shot glass, and nudging Sadie in the arm as soon as she notices the other woman is still looking nothing short of reluctant, "Munson always said there were at least five drunks at this sort of thing, right?"
"He—yeah. He did."
"Well then. We'll fit right in."
"Robin," Sadie protests, laughing in spite of her lingering apprehension, and glancing to where Chrissy sits beside her, already completely absorbed in the coloring book she brought along. The little girl's tongue is poking out without her full awareness in a gesture so reminiscent of her father that Sadie feels a pang of longing flare to life inside her chest.
"Sadie? You good?"
"I—yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good. Down the hatch, then," Steve advises, tossing back his own shot, and barely even wincing, his attention turning to Sadie and Robin instead as a means of ensuring they down their own not long after. Robin does so without hesitation, only emitting a tiny cough in the aftermath.
Sadie only has to take one look at the partition of the bar where she can see Gareth already setting up to decide maybe—just maybe—a shot wouldn't be a bad idea after all.
Particularly when her eyes lock with the one person she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid seeing…
Eddie.
Sadie recognizes the flare of surprise there, but he conceals it quickly enough, offering her a small nod, before she loses her nerve entirely, and has to look away. Suddenly, the shot is only too tempting, and she throws it back so quickly she very nearly chokes. But the burn of the tequila settles her, somehow. It roots her to the present, instead of allowing her thoughts to drift back to the past.
"Want another?"
"Please."
"Ha! Told you!" Steve exclaims, sharing a high-five with Robin, and even indulging Chrissy in one, his hand ruffling at her curls before he turns to head over to the bar. Before he departs completely, though, Sadie catches herself biting back surprise as he leans down to her, a hand resting on her shoulder as he gives a light squeeze.
"You're sure you're okay?"
"I will be, Steve," She assures, placing her hand over his own for a moment, and managing a faint smile that she hopes will reassure him enough to ensure he isn't feeling obliged to keep watch over her for the entire night.
"I will be."
She doesn't look back to the area where the band is setting up, but she can tell, somehow, that Eddie is still there. Still occasionally looking her way. Sadie can't decide if she wants that attention, or if she'd rather Eddie simply pretend she doesn't exist.
Sadie still misses him. She misses him so much that it feels like a hard punch to the chest.
Somewhere underneath the lingering burn of the tequila shot, she realizes she never stopped loving Eddie Munson. She probably never will.
But she left him. Lied. Kept him from his child.
If there is even a small part of Eddie that still cares for her, Sadie is absolutely certain that part will die as soon as he learns the truth of what she's done.
"Hey, earth to Sadie—come in, Sadie—"
"I—sorry, Robin."
"No, don't apologize. Just tell me what you're daydreaming about and we can call it even," Robin teases, favoring Sadie with a grin, though that fades rather quickly as she follows Sadie's suddenly wistful gaze towards the band, "Oh. Are we—are we pining?"
"We aren't pining."
"Are you sure?"
"Definitely not pining," Sadie assures, surprised at the faint grin that tugs at her lips, even in the face of the flush that warms her cheeks, "Or maybe—I don't know, maybe—maybe I am."
"Think you'll say hello after they're done?"
"I don't—Robin, I don't—"
"Hey, no, it's—it's okay!" Robin exclaims, automatically reaching out to squeeze Sadie's hand on instinct, only able to avoid embarrassment at having made the other woman uncomfortable because of Sadie's almost immediate understanding smile, "I put my foot in it again, didn't I?"
"No. Not at all."
"You're sure?"
"Positive," Sadie promises, her attention shifting to Steve as he returns with three more shots, and a bottle of beer for each of them, his gaze shifting between her and Robin, as he clearly gathers he's missed something while away.
"What's up?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, Dingus. Nothing," Robin quips, sending Sadie a conspiratorial wink, only to accept the shot and beer from Steve not long after. It's more than obvious that Steve isn't buying it, but he lets it go, at least for the time-being…
He doesn't miss the covert glances Sadie keeps giving one member of the band in particular, and Steve tosses back his own shot just as she does the same. He knows she is imbibing for courage. And although he hardly needs such a thing, considering the circumstances, he can hardly blame her.
Steve has the feeling he only has what is on the tip of the iceberg as far as what went down between Sadie and Eddie during the last part of senior year, but what he does know is that no matter what happens between them now, he is going to be with Sadie every step of the way.
…
"You okay, man? You're looking a little—lost."
"What? No, I—I'm good."
"Right. So you're staring off into space because you've never been better," Gareth deadpans, aware of the warning look Eddie sends him, and sending his friend a smirk in response, "She's here, then."
"You say that like you knew she would be all along."
"Well, when you run into two pretty girls at the grocery store—"
"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, aware that Gareth seems content to join him watching as Steve gets Sadie, Robin and Chrissy situated around a small table, his mouth twitching without his consent as the little girl bounces excitedly in her seat.
"Don't tell me you're not happy she's here."
"I never said that."
"Not exactly acting like it's a good thing, though."
Eddie doesn't say anything to that, his attention entirely too occupied with the attempt at dragging his gaze away from Sadie as she covers her mouth in a laugh at something Robin has just said. He's never seen her looking quite like this, before—red lipstick, eyeliner, the faded band t-shirt—
She's always been pretty. He's known that ever since he met her, but this?
At this rate, it'll be a miracle if he makes it through the set tonight without suffering cardiac arrest.
"Looks good, doesn't she?"
"Gareth?"
"Yeah, Munson?"
"Shut it."
Eddie hears Gareth's snort, but his friend does back off, surprisingly enough, at least for the moment, one last elbow to Eddie's side serving as the only indication of lingering doubt before he is on his own once again. A look back at the table shows him Sadie is trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to ward off Steve's attempt to push a shot glass her way not long after giving one to Robin, as well. Chrissy is already engrossed in something that looks to be a coloring book, the tip of her tongue poking out as she works. And even though he tries to avoid it, Eddie can't stop one thought from repeating on a loop in his mind.
If Sadie hadn't bolted into the bathroom on him the other night at the restaurant, he would've invited her, himself, but Eddie figures as long as someone got around to it, it shouldn't really matter who.
The strange pull in his gut as he realizes Sadie had bolted from him, but not Gareth, though? That tells him it does matter, whether he really wants to admit to it or not.
…