Eddie could pretend to be tough inside and out, but the reality of it all was that the guy was just a kid who had to grow up way too early. He was kind to a fault as shown in the way he'd give those struggling to get by a little better of a deal or the way he picked up the outcasts to give them a sanctuary. His issue wasn't with the world but with those who tried to make the world an issue, and Joan always found that... endearing.

He was an enigma of shy, brazen, headstrong, soft, and outspoken. If caught at the right - or wrong - moment he'd hide behind his hair like an 8 year old child with a sheepish grin and constant twist of his hair around his fingers.

But the hellish fury he could summon in an attempt to keep the world from hurting him was unmatched. He made Joan feel like a poser back in her old life.

Real life.

The moment Joan had woken in the crack of dawn on the old couch she had blearily gotten herself up and took into stock what had happened like a train to the guy. The pain in her head made her dizzy enough to stumble as she forced herself to the kitchen for a glass of water to fix her dry mouth.

However, when she arrived she was met with a topless Eddie Munson eating the last few handfuls of cereal as he distrustfully stared out the window with his eyes nearly glazed over. It was a great sight of dark jeans and chains laying loosely over his hips with the muscles of a mechanic showcasing the strength underneath. Her presence seemed to be invisible as he slowly chewed his way through dry cereal in a way that had Joan gagging.

Oh, wait.

Joan barely had anytime to grab the trash can before she vomited into it what little stomach contents she had. Most of it was stomach acid that made it even more painful as she continued to retch violently.

"Oh shit." Was all she heard before she felt a presence behind her before it quickly walked away. The sound of a glass filling up and when Joan looked up she saw a weary Eddie holding out a cup of water as far as he could. "Here. Drink some of this slowly."

Damning enough was the way Eddie made sure their fingers didn't touch and almost made the cup drop. Her heart tugged and she channeled the bitch in her to protect her heart as she whispered a dry thanks.

It was weirdly quiet and tense, awkward and stiff, after that. Small comments here, questions, but no conversation that led Joan back on the couch with finger-brushed teeth and a new glass of water in hands.

There was an old grandfather clock in the living room that made a constant tick tock, tick tock in the silence that had Joan teetering on the edge of insanity because she was feeling like shit, not in her house, alone with Eddie Munson - who was the opposite of anything friendly and refused to speak or be near her - and by God what the hell happened last night?!

"Listen, I-!"

"So, u-uh-?"

The two teens winced as they spoke over each other and Joan cleared her throat, sipping her water to make a gesture for him to go first.

"So... uh, your butthead of a brother said they'd come back in the morning with snacks and uh, to get you."

"Who?" Joan asked curiously as she took another sip and cracked her neck. Which brother was bothering her now? Stephen was a pain in her ass, but she'd prefer him over the twins. "Which brother?"

There was room for a cricket if she were living in a cartoon.

Eddie's eyebrows pinched dramatically and he bounced his leg, up and down, while he tried to figure out what she meant. Joan's brain started to turn and dread filled her like an ice bath.

"I-oh my god, Dustin." A nervous laugh tumbled out as she rubbed the back of her neck and turned away. "Fuck, I knew- I just- oh fuck."

"Hey, hey, whoa s-stop that." Eddie demanded as Joan's eyes started to water. Dramatically he stood up from the love seat he sat on and pointed down at her as if he was casting a spell, even though his eyes were wide with panic. "I-I said stop w-with the whole-" his hand came up to circle his face "-that thing. There's been too much emotion and I think I'll literally explode if you do that."

Although she had let out a chuckle the tears fell and in her watery vision she watched Eddie basically dive behind the couch. "Evil!" He cried out as he peered over the couch with narrowed eyes. "You wish for my death, peasant?!"

It was successful whatever ploy or tactic he had used, because her tears turned into an almost painful laugh where she held her stomach as if to contain its contents. With a satisfied grin, Eddie cockily jumped back over onto the love seat.

"C-Christ, Eddie. You are something else."

"Mmmm, you mean, totally awesome?"

"Sure." Joan giggled out and whisper the tears from her face. The air was lighter now and more pleasant, but it threatened to slip at any moment. "You think I could steal some food?"

His nervous habit of playing with his rings kicked in and his nose scrunched up like he was in pain. "W-well, uh, I would help, but I kind of..."

Eddie had insisted there was no food left in the fridge, but when Joan forced herself to the pantry she held up the cans of vegetables incredulously leading into an argument with an embarrassed Eddie because how was he supposed to know if he never ate them before?

And Joan sobered up about her privileged life.

She steered the conversation to playful jabs that were a direct insult to Eddie's life and Eddie happily played into the word game - from a distance - while she opened up two cans of mixed vegetables and seared some spam on a pan.

At first, Eddie had looked at Joan in horror when she insisted he eat the plate of vegetables and meat. His eyes narrowed distrustfully at the meat and Joan snorted as she took bite after bite.

"It's not going to kill you, idiot."

"It might! Who knows what's going to kill anyone anymore here in this shot hole."

"Mmmm, you're using toddler divergence tactics."

Eddie's head whipped up to Joan and the girl shrugged her shoulders. "You're trying to change the subject about eating to something terrible so I get distracted and you get away with not eating it." A smirk grew on her face as she waved the forkful of vegetables at the boy playfully. "Unlucky for you, Munson, I grew up with little brothers. So I know everything."

"Brothers?"

Oh.

"W-well, Dustin's f-friends have been around for, like, ever. I basically helped raise them."

"Right..." Eddie responded slowly with a nod of his head. "Totally not the brain damage from last night." He say back in his chair and pretended to think with his hand covering his mouth. "Well, it's not that much of a change in intelligence."

"Hey!"

"From what I've heard, you used to be pretty badass, Miss is-that-weed?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A shrug and that god awful smirk.

"Someone used to fill out character sheets and create the coolest campaigns - obviously not as cool as mine - for these four little boys." His hand went to the floor next to him like he was patting the head of one of the boys teasingly. "And when they first heard about the game, this someone spent hours researching books at the library and ordering from catalogs."

Joan bit the inside of her cheek and stared at her plate of mostly rated food as the memory of Dustin's heartbroken face from being yelled at plagued her. It was strange how Agatha had gone from creating character sheets and rolling dice to insulting and downright cruel so quickly. She was missing a piece of the puzzle or maybe a few pieces... something wasn't adding up.

"...but then bam!" The storyteller in Eddie couldn't help slamming the table in emphasis, satisfied in the shocked looked he received. "High school hits, a green uniform infests their closest, and suddenly a stick crawls up their ass and dies."

"H-hey, I'm human too." Joan protested weakly. Although it wasn't her and the actions were honestly uncalled for, she could... start to see where they came from. "I'm allowed to make mistakes."

"You know, sure. Let's say you made a mistake." Eddie air quoted the word in emphasis with a roll of his eyes. "Then how come you keep going back to the same twisted witch?"

"...Eddie, if this is about September-"

"This is about everything!" Eddie interrupted with a dry laugh and clenched fists on the table. "You leading me on and then... using me-!"

"You we're using me!" Joan cried out, slamming her hands on the table and standing form her chair with anger. Eddie sat back and crossed his arms with a dismissive scoff as his angry eyes pierced through her icily. "The-the whole band thing had been a joke and I had to listen to you guys laugh about it!"

The ice melted in his eyes just enough for Eddie to shake it back into place and when he refused to comment on the issue, Joan scoffed.

"Y-you're insufferable!"

"Fuck this." Eddie muttered underneath his breath as he pushed himself away from the table and stalked off. Joan laughed wickedly as he threw on his jean vest over no shirt.

"Yeah, do what you do best, freak." The words were cruel and spat out like thorns, a small part of Joan tried to hold back the fire but once the flame was lit... "run. Run away like you did with your dad, us, your grades, fuck, run like you ran from Chrissy!"

It fed uncontrollably...

And burned everything.

Alone with only the sounds of a clock, Joan processed with wide eyes at the slammed door what she had just said. "Fuck." She whispered out, throwing her head in her hands before repeating the word just a bit louder. "Fuck!"

When she looked back over at the spot Eddie had inhabited she couldn't help but chuckle dryly at herself because Eddie Munson really was a toddler.

He hadn't eaten a damn thing and had used the harshest diversion he could.

And even after she had cleaned up in static silence with the maddening tick tock as her only companion, Joan still felt sick with herself. In the bathroom her clothes hung on an old drying rack in the powder blue guest bathroom next to a familiar DnD club shirt. With a frown she looked down in confusion to see what she was wearing.

Her go to outfit back at home had always included a signature leather jacket filled with patches and love, a passion project that had begun at an easy age. Which explains why she had felt so comfortable since waking up in the drug dealers home because around her shoulders was Eddie's jacket over Steve's expensive polo.

Warm and comforting, almost familiar.

God, she was such a bitch.