(Present Day)

"Might wanna watch out, Carver. Looks like you've got a future drummer on your hands."

"So it would seem," Sadie agrees, keeping her eyes on where her daughter is sitting at Gareth's drum set, the little girl's excitement practically radiating off of her in waves as Gareth stands behind her, hands hovering over her much smaller ones to ensure the drumsticks don't go flying every which way.

"Bet Andy won't like that."

"No. No, probably—probably not."

Eddie could kick himself for saying anything about Andy at all, because he knows Sadie well enough to predict exactly how she would react. Or at least, he used to know her. He used to know her like the back of his hand.

As he risks a glance at the tight line of her shoulders—the dimming of the joy she held over watching her daughter in her eyes—Eddie realizes maybe he does still know her, even if only just by a little, his own expression sobering before he attempts to make amends.

"Listen, I—I'm sorry if—"

"He's not here."

"Hmm?"

"Andy. He's not—he's not here," Sadie admits, folding her arms across her chest, and turning slightly to peek at Eddie, her cheeks almost immediately warming as she meets the steady familiarity of his gaze as a result.

"Still at home?"

"Something—something like that."

"Something like that?" Eddie repeats, unable to keep the doubt and concern from his tone, even when it clearly causes Sadie to turn away before she replies.

"It's not important."

The words hit Eddie like a physical blow, and he has to fight to avoid taking a step back in response, the invisible wall Sadie seems determined to keep between them paining him like nothing else could. He can see her lower lip trembling, until a flash of white teeth digs in to keep the miniscule tremor at bay.

He hates that Sadie feels as though she has to keep anything from him, but given the time they've spent apart, he can't exactly blame her for doing exactly that.

"You uh—you staying for long?"

"Oh, we—no, we could go. I mean you and the rest of the guys probably want to get home."

"No, I—I mean staying in Hawkins."

"Oh," Sadie murmurs, her attention remaining fixed on Chrissy as her daughter giggles over something Gareth whispers in her ear, another cacophony of crashes on the drum set causing Jeff to wince as he heads over to join the drummer and her daughter as though the three of them have known one another for years, "I um—I don't know, actually."

"Maybe we could—catch up."

Sadie flinches at the suggestion, before she can even think to stop it, the weight of everything Eddie still doesn't know clogging her throat, and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She had taken everything from him, and he didn't even realize it. Didn't realize the way he should hate her. How he should never want to see her again.

Instead, as a result of her silence, Eddie is looking at her with unmasked concern, the realization causing Sadie to hurriedly suck in a breath before he can ask her what on earth is wrong.

"That would—yeah, I—"

"You can say no, if you want to. It's—it's no big deal."

"No, Eddie, I—"

"Really. It's okay," Eddie insists, so absorbed in trying to prepare himself for the disappointment of Sadie's refusal that he doesn't entirely notice the way her expression shifts, uncertainty and nerves fading just enough to allow another thing entirely to make an appearance as well.

Stubborn determination.

"No. It's not. Because I wasn't actually going to—refuse."

Eddie's surprise is nearly palpable, his eyes going wide, but Sadie doesn't miss the almost immediate smile that curves at the corners of his mouth. A part of her thrills at the sight, remembering how she always loved seeing that smile before. Before she had left Hawkins and everything started slowly falling apart.

The other part of her is nearly drowning in guilt because she knows the more time she spends with Eddie without telling him the truth, the more she will hate herself for the lie.

"Guess this means I need your number."

"I—what?"

"Your number," Eddie says, forcing aside the flare of concern that arises when Sadie seems to need to shake herself out of some internal struggle, because he has the distinct feeling that questioning her on it will only push her farther away, "You know—to plan the whole—catching up thing."

"Oh. Well I—I'm staying with Steve, so I don't really have my own phone line at the—at the moment."

"Right. He uh—he might have told me that."

"He did?"

"Yeah. At the—restaurant."

Sadie flushes as she realizes exactly when this particular exchange of information must have happened. When she was holed away in the restaurant's bathroom, losing her mind while Eddie remained at the table with her daughter and Steve.

Their daughter…

"Hey—you okay?"

"Fine. I—I'm fine," Sadie nods, forcing herself to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat brought about by Eddie's worried frown, "Sorry, I just—I think I let Steve convince me to have too many shots."

"That sounds like Harrington," Eddie laughs, not even close to believing Sadie's attempt at providing reassurance, though he opts for not pressing her further, in favor of something else, instead, "You okay to drive home?"

"Actually, he'll—he drove, so—"

"Got it."

Silence falls between them once again, and Eddie forces himself to allow things to remain that way, at least for the time-being, some sort of instinct he didn't know he possessed knowing that his habit of filling any sort of lengthy silences would only make Sadie more on edge than she already seems to be. A hundred emotions seem to flicker across her face all at once, before she settles on something that Eddie can tell is a forced attempt at appearing calm…

That fact alone has whatever desire he might have had to let her keep to herself all but dying with a dramatic, shuddering breath, his own grin hopefully not seeming as forced as it feels when he decides a complete change in conversation is better than standing in silence until he finds some other means of fucking up.

"Think you're up for a re-do of our uh—high school debut?"

"Eddie—"

"Come on, it'll be fun! Bar's not s'posed to close for another hour anyway."

Sadie considers the request in spite of the instinctive pull she feels to deny it outright, some small part of her wanting to sink back into the familiarity of what Eddie is offering with all she has. And it really wouldn't be so bad. One night of reliving old memories—good memories—before returning to the reality of the mess that her life had become.

It's that thought alone that has Sadie turning to favor Eddie with a far more convincing smile, some of the pressure that guilt kept present in her chest easing as she replies.

"Only if you let Gareth keep Chrissy on drums."

"Done."

The instant agreement brings another flash of a genuine smile to Sadie's lips, and Eddie fails to ignore how the sight gives his heart a jumpstart at slamming against his ribs. For a moment, it is almost easy to pretend she never left. That she is still his.

Eddie forces aside the reminder that absolutely none of that is true, gesturing for Sadie to lead the way up to the small partition where the band had been performing, something curious wrenching in his chest as he watches her entire face light up when her daughter launches herself away from Gareth's drum set to run headlong into her arms.

"Mama!"

"You did so good, baby!"

As he watches Sadie press a kiss to Chrissy's cheek, and the little girl giggles happily in response, Eddie spends a moment wondering what might have happened if the two of them had been given more time. Time for him to give Sadie everything he had wanted to give her from day one.

It's a painful thought, and Eddie knows that spending any considerable amount of time dreaming about something that will never happen will only make it that much harder for him to let her go again…

A smart man would walk away. Keep his distance as much as possible without appearing rude.

Eddie covers a snort as he moves to join Sadie and the rest, already picturing the shambles that represent his life in Hawkins after Sadie had left all those years ago going up in flames when she eventually leaves him again.

He had never been what one would call smart.

Back at Steve's with Chrissy already snuggled under the blankets and dozing in bed, Sadie rummages through one of the bags she had hurriedly stashed as many of their belongings as she could grab in, a frustrated huff leaving her at her seeming inability to find a hair tie. The one she had been attempting to use had snapped, sailing off to land somewhere behind the dresser. And Sadie is painfully aware that she would never be able to move the furniture on her own. Aware that she did not want to wake Steve, because he has already done so much…

She sighs as she digs further into the duffle bag, but freezes just as quickly, her fingers brushing against something that is very clearly not another hair tie.

Maybe she would have been better off just waking Steve, after all.

Sadie pulls the chain out from the bottom of the bag, though, even with the pain building like an inferno inside of her chest. The fingertips of her free hand trace the edges of the chain, trailing down to the blue guitar pick resting flat in her palm.

She can still remember exactly when Eddie had given it to her. The band had a gig at The Hideout the night before her birthday, but he had been unable to wait one more day, handing it to her wrapped in a bit of old newspaper with an eager grin tugging at his lips.

"Open it!"

"I am!"

"Yeah. Slowly."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sadie tries to ignore the familiar replay of the conversation in her head, but it doesn't exactly work out the way she wants it to, her legs bending until she is kneeling on the floor beside the bag, her fingers curling around the homemade necklace until the edges of the guitar pick start to dig into the skin of her palm.

"Well how do you want me to open it, then?"

"Fast and rough. Just like always."

"Shut up, Eddie."

"Why don't you come over here and make me?"

She remembers finally tearing through the newspaper, and eyeing the necklace for a moment or two of stunned silence, before looking back at Eddie, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.

"Whattya say, Carver? Wanna be my girl? Officially?"

Sadie can still recall the elation she felt as she threw herself into his arms and melded her mouth with his not long after, Eddie's laugh vibrating through his chest as he staggered backward a few steps to avoid falling over.

"I'm guessing that's a yes?"

"It's a hell yes, you idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot. And I got you to curse. Eddie Munson, one. Life, zero."

A laugh escapes her at the memory of the retort, and she darts a look toward Chrissy to ensure the sound didn't wake her. Her daughter is still sleeping away, though, and for a moment, Sadie allows herself to get lost in the similarity, remembering the countless times she had joked that an ax murderer could have carted her out of the trailer kicking and screaming, and Eddie would have just kept on snoring…

But she shouldn't be thinking of things like that. She shouldn't, because she can feel the burning at the corners of her eyes. The tightness in her chest.

Why had she ever in a million years thought it would be the best thing for her to just leave him?

Why had she ever thought staying with Andy would make her forget?

All Andy had ever given her was bruises and doubt.

"Whattya say, Carver? Wanna be my girl?"

Hurriedly stowing the necklace back inside the duffle bag, Sadie presses her free hand to her mouth to stifle a sob, silently willing the tears to just go away even though she doubts she will be so lucky. She should be focusing on her daughter. On what they're going to do next, because she knows they can't stay in Hawkins forever.

She doesn't want to acknowledge the dread that fills her at the thought of leaving, but her daughter's muffled yawn mercifully seems to provide all the distraction she needs.

"Mama?"

"Hey, baby. Did I wake you?"

"No," Chrissy murmurs, eagerly burrowing against Sadie's side as she moves to sit on the bed, one arm winding around her daughter's shoulders while she pulls the covers up over the two of them in tandem, "What were you doing in your bag?"

"Trying to find something for my hair. It still smells all smoky."

"Can we go back there again?"

"Back where, baby?" Sadie inquires, a part of her already suspecting she knows the answer before her daughter can say a word.

"Back to see the band."

Sadie's heart twists at the thought, and she presses her lips against her daughter's sleep-tousled curls as a means of keeping Chrissy's attention elsewhere while she struggles to regain her composure. But it's hard. It hurts.

It hurts because, more than anything, Sadie wants a reason to see her daughter happy. Laughing, and messing around, and just being a kid, like she had been with Eddie's band that night.

She wants to give her daughter everything, but she's still not entirely sure she can do that, here. Here, where memories press in from every corner. Where Eddie asks her if she wants to catch up, as if there is any way for her to do that without breaking his heart.

A part of her knows she should leave before he even has a chance to give her a call, but the other part—the part that wants to feel as though she isn't alone, even if only for a moment—wants to stay exactly where she is.

"I don't—I'm not sure, sweetie."

"I liked playing drums."

"I know you did."

"Gareth said I was good," Chrissy persists, tilting her head back to give Sadie a smile, brown eyes wide as she went for a pleading look that had Sadie suspecting her daughter had already figured out would get her what she wanted every single time. It was a look Eddie had given her plenty of times before, but surprisingly, the likeness doesn't cause a jolt of pain to sear its way through Sadie's chest, this time around…

For a moment, Sadie wonders at a scenario where Eddie doesn't hate her for her secrets. Where he comes to adore Chrissy every bit as much as she does. Where they can pick up the pieces of what she had so stupidly broken.

But Sadie knows better than most how delusional it is to think something like that could ever be real.

"Maybe we—maybe we can," She says, squeezing Chrissy's shoulders a bit, and using her other hand to tickle the little girl's sides, "Would you like that?"

"Would you sing again?"

Sadie bites down on the inside of her cheek for a moment, unsure of how to reply because the idea of doing something she hadn't done in ages is honestly too appealing. She hadn't expected to enjoy it so much, but being with Eddie—just horsing around, like they used to do so many years ago—had put her at ease in a way nothing else could.

She can still remember Eddie encouraging her to try for a career in singing, but in spite of her attempts at developing her craft after leaving Hawkins in the rear view, no one had wanted to take a chance on a performer that was expecting…

Not that Andy would have allowed it, anyway.

"Mama?"

"I don't know, baby. I might."

"You sounded really pretty."

Sadie can hear the yawn beneath the words, and she presses another kiss to Chrissy's hair in response, gently scooting down so that her daughter can curl up in a more comfortable position against her side. Chrissy gives a sleepy little sigh, and Sadie runs a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame the wayward curls.

She starts to hum a soft little tune without fully realizing it, and as Chrissy's breathing shifts towards softer snores, Sadie forces herself to remain fully in the present, knowing that dwelling on the past will do her little to no good at all.

She has her daughter. That is all she needs.

Even if everything else falls apart, at least she will still have Chrissy by her side.

(May 1986)

"You're quiet."

"Mm?"

"I said you're quiet," Eddie repeats, watching as Sadie finally looks up at him, the plate of pancake she had been shredding absently with her fingers, along with whatever she was feigning interest in flashing across the television screen momentarily forgotten, "Everything okay?"

"I—no, I—I'm fine."

"Wow. Real convincing."

"No, I just—I'm sorry," Sadie stammers, leaning forward to put the plate on the table in front of the couch, and then curling in on herself, her arms winding around her knees as she draws them up to her chest not long after, "I guess I'm just—tired, still."

She doesn't meet Eddie's gaze because she knows, somehow, that he will recognize the lie. And, true to form, it isn't long before she hears the squeak of protesting couch cushions as Eddie moves to shut off the television, another squeak reaching her before she realizes he is moving to sit closer to her than he had been mere moments before.

"Sadie."

"Hmm?"

"Did I—do something? Or put my foot in it somehow?" Eddie asks, aware of Sadie's almost immediate shake of the head, even though she is once again purposefully avoiding looking him in the eye. For a moment, he wonders if this is just lingering grief over Chrissy. Guilt, even though he knows there is absolutely no reasonable way she can accept any blame for what happened at all. But the look Sadie wears now is startlingly different from her expression when he found her outside the hospital.

Then, she looked broken. Utterly, completely broken. And now?

Now she just looked lost.

"You didn't do anything, Eddie, I promise. It's—it's just—me."

"It's not you, it's me. I've heard that one before."

"No, that's—that's not what I mean," Sadie corrects, shaking her head again, and trying to fight past the nerves fluttering around in her stomach because in spite of it all, she wants to be honest. It's why she's been so quiet, because she's been trying to come up with some way of bringing up what had almost happened before…

Sadie is clinging to that small part of her because the other part is practically screaming that the minute the words leave her mouth, everything will change, and Eddie will push her away. And if that happens, she is not entirely sure she will survive.

"What do you mean, Sweetheart?"

Concern makes its way into the inquiry with relative ease, because Eddie is thinking of at least a hundred different things that could be troubling her. What happened with her parents. Staying with him. Skipping school. Essentially ignoring her boyfriend as a result of said truancy.

But what Sadie actually says is nowhere near any of those things.

It's better.

"I just—earlier. When we—"

"When we almost set my uncle's trailer on fire, cooking pancakes and bacon?"

"No, when you—when you almost—I mean, when it felt like you were going to—"

"When I almost kissed you?" Eddie finishes, biting back a grin at the flush that almost immediately warms Sadie's cheeks in response, her head ducking down until he stops her with a finger pressed just beneath her chin. Her eyes are wide, and he can tell she's trying to decide whether or not she should give him any sort of reply at all.

She's silent for just a moment too long, giving him every reason to believe she is losing her nerve, and Eddie takes that as his leave to fix the problem, himself, before the opportunity is gone for good.

"Want me to do it for real this time?"

Sadie's cheeks flush even further at that, but she can't exactly look away. Not with how Eddie's finger is still beneath her chin. His tone is teasing, but something about his expression is the precise opposite. Almost as though he hopes she will say yes.

She wants to. She wants to say yes so badly it is almost painful, but she can't get the words out past the sudden lump in her throat, the only thing she can successfully manage being a short nod, before her teeth are digging into her lower lip.

"Gonna need to hear you say it, Sweetheart."

"Y—yes. Please, Eddie—"

Eddie leans forward to cover her lips with his own before she can say anything more, the little gasp she gives as one of her hands moves to tangle in his hair provoking a groan from him in response. Somehow, she manages to shift so her knees are no longer between them on the couch as a barrier without breaking the contact, her free hand now resting on his shoulder to steady herself and avoid tumbling forward into his lap.

One of Eddie's hands is suddenly at her cheek, the warmth of his palm easing her somewhat skittish nerves and keeping her exactly where she is, and Sadie can feel the fingers of his other hand resting at her hip, just barely skimming against her skin beneath the hem of his shirt. It's almost overwhelming, but Sadie isn't about to pull away, her hand shifting from Eddie's shoulder to thread her fingers through his hair, mimicking what the fingers of her other hand have already done.

Sadie isn't entirely sure how she manages it, but suddenly, she really is in Eddie's lap, his teeth nipping at her lower lip while her fingers tighten in his hair…

A sudden pounding on the door has Sadie jerking away from Eddie on instinct, her heart hammering against her ribs, even in spite of the soft laughter that escapes in response to the look of panic on his face. For a minute, both of them clearly share the same thought. That her parents had already contacted the police, trying to connect Eddie's occasional dealing habits with Chrissy's death. But as soon as Eddie scrambles up off of the couch and moves to the door, Sadie sees the taut line of his shoulders relax, her own breaths coming a little easier when she recognizes a familiar head of red hair standing on the porch.

"Can I borrow your van? Mom's too buzzed to drive, and if I have to eat cereal for dinner one more time I'm gonna hurl."

"I've heard what Harrington says about your driving, Mayfield," Eddie replies, the remark provoking a huff from the younger girl that has Sadie grinning, already standing and trying to straighten her clothes as she moves to join him at the door, "I'll drive you wherever you need to go. That or no deal."

"Steve's a moron. My driving is just fine," Max protests, her attention turning to Sadie, a brow lifting as she realizes the older girl's clothing is clearly not her own, "And you're obviously busy anyway, so—"

"Busy? No, we—we're not busy."

"Actually, Sweetheart, we were," Eddie disagrees, enjoying the renewed flush against Sadie's cheeks as he loops an arm around her waist to pull her close, a snort escaping in response to Max's next words.

"Jesus, if you two are going to do nothing but flirt, I'll just walk."

"Eddie, it's too far to just let her walk into town from here," Sadie frowns, trying to ignore how the pad of his thumb is snaking beneath her shirt to rub an idle pattern against the skin of her hip, "We should take her."

"Or I could just drive, and the two of you could stay here doing—whatever it is you're doing."

"I'll get my keys," Eddie relents, aware of how Sadie seems to tense against his side at Max's teasing, and trying to find a way to ease her out of it even though if anyone were to ask him directly, he rather enjoyed watching her squirm. He knows this—whatever it is—is new to her, though. New, and probably even a bit overwhelming.

And he'll be damned if he does anything to scare her away now, before getting to know whether her consent to the kiss was just a lapse of judgment brought about by vulnerability, or if it meant something more.