10 July 1985

Henderson Home

She was a nervous wreck.

At 5:05 am Joan woke up to her usual nightmare of being strapped to a seat in a dark basement while Billy forced her eyes open to watch a giant rat-human soup monster slowly decompose Heather in front of her eyes with hands around her neck slowly suffocating her.

At 8:15 am she ate some cereal.

At 10:00 am she drove Dustin to his adoptive father, Steve. She dropped him off at the boys work place to annoy the graduate as much as his little heart wanted. Not that Steve seemed to mind, judging by the secret handshake she witnessed through the windows.

At 11:55 am Joan sat on the recliner with her leg bouncing up and down at an accelerated pace, nervously looking out the window, while waiting for the sounds of an old van driving in her drive yard.

At 12:22 pm, he pulled in.

Eddie clambered out of the vehicle happily and unashamed, cracking his back and grinning to her elderly neighbour who stared with horror that she didn't bother to hide. He waved his fingers happily at the woman and laughed as she quickly went inside, nearly slamming the door closed behind her.

Joan had ran over to open the door, meeting Eddie at the front who grinned, leaning up against the doorway. "Hi, prissy pants." She ignored the hello, choosing instead to grab Eddie by the arm and using all of her strength to pull the teen inside. "Woah, Henderson. If I wasn't a super senior, I'd think you were ashamed to be seen with me."

He had said it jokingly, but was it really a joke? What teenage girl in Hawkins wants to be the girl seen letting Eddie the freak Munson into her home while no one else was around? The drug dealer, super super-Senior, and slight public menace of the small town had an image painted in most everyone's mind and it wasn't good.

"So here's the beauty." Joan decided to ignore the guilt in her chest, heading over to the piano with her hands shoved under her arm pits and nodding to the instrument with a frown. "The only problem I'm having is I can't seem to open it... maybe it's jammed or something, I don't know."

"Well, I'm not a bard for nothing." Eddie responded, cracking his knuckles and fiddling with the top of the piano. His fingers lightly grazed the back with a frown and he looked at Joan. "Do you have the key?"

"The what?"

Eddie moved the piano from the wall and turned it slightly, and motioned for Joan to come look at the back of the piano where a skeletal keyhole rested.

"Huh." Joan rubbed her face in confusion. "That.. I never knew that it needed a key?"

"So, you don't have the key?" Eddie shrugged his shoulders. "Guess you can't enter into the next room. We should examine the entire dungeon to find a key that fits."

Joan snorted at the analogy and took off immediately into Dustin's room, rummaging around his drawers. Eddie followed, examining the room in interest. "Wow, didn't think princess buttercup would have a room like... this. Dungeon and dragons?!" His shout was unnecessary and Joan jumped, looking over to see the teen holding up a book towards Joan in disbelief. "You play D n' D?!"

"This is my brothers room, you ditz." Joan went back too looking in his drawer and found what she was looking for with a grin. "Alright, got it!"

"You found the key?" Eddie was surprised, throwing the book onto the bed and followed closely - too closely - behind Joan. When he was ignored, he shouldered her ahead and grabbed what was in her hands too examine. "A... Allen wrench and pliers? Listen, Henderson, even I know that you gotta find the key specific to that piano. You know, that thing that opens-"

"Or." Joan said pointedly, grabbing the tools from Eddie aggressively, but with eyes dancing in mischief. "You have dexterity and intelligence as your highest stats and the world becomes your play box." She didn't wait for Eddie, bending over slightly to shove the Allen wrench inside the key hole and fiddling with it.

It took Eddie a few more seconds of watching Joan tinker with the lock than it probably should have, before his eyes widened and he pointed dramatically from the other side of the piano in shock. "You do play D!"

"No, I don't." Joan said quickly, but threw him a bone anyway with a smirk. "Doesn't mean a level 13 thief never existed under this roof before."

He let out a nose from the back of his throat that sounded like a dying horse and Joan ignored Eddie's pacing and mumbling about how Joan Henderson, a cheerleader, played DnD and was a thief.

"...so let me guess. You're an elf?"

"Hafling actually." Joan corrected. Her tounge was out to encourage focus and her voice was quiet, nearly strained. "After I watched- read Tolkien's books, I felt nearly spiritually connected to the idea of the Shire. Living with others in a beautiful place, foraging and farming, and the biggest worry is your next meal."

Eddie let out a puff of air, shaking his head as if he was imagining everything happening. He was quiet for a while, going from staring at the photo of Joan in her cheer outfit on the wall to the girl wearing jean shorts and a button down picking the lock of a piano.

After a while, Joan let out a celebratory hiss of excitement as the lock clicked, but let out a matching yelp of pain as her hand started to cramp. Eddie quickly bounded over, nearly tripping over the stool and watched in concern as Joan held her hand to her chest.

"What happened?!"

"Guess my dexterity wasn't high enough." Joan grunted sourly. "My hand cramped and I didn't have a glove for the friction."

Carefully, Eddie shooed Joan away and grabbed the tools from the floor, setting to work. "Bards have dexterity as a priority skill too, plus who needs gloves when you have guitar callus." He grinned, showing his hands to Joan, before nodding his head to the kitchen.

"Go ice your hand or whatever. I'll get this open quicker than any thief could dream of."

True to his word Eddie had the piano opened surprisingly fast. Joan had been icing her hand in the kitchen for a good 5 minutes before realizing that the living room was way too quiet for her to feel comfortable. She got a coke out for both of them and walked over to thank Eddie, but stopped and stared in confusion.

Eddie has opened the piano judging by the open top, but he was seated on the bench in front of it frowning down at a just as opened leather journal resting in between two callused hands.

"Is that my journal?" Joan blurted out, eyes wide. Eddie's head snapped up in horror along with slamming the book closed and throwing it on the couch. "Oh my God, you were reading my journal!"

"No!" Eddie denied quickly, standing up. He bit his lips and waved his hands. "Okay, fine, yes!"

"Oh my God." Joan repeated again, throwing Eddie's can of coke to him - ignoring him flustering to grab onto the metal drink - and rushed over to her journal. She grabbed the book and clutched it to her chest, narrowing her eyes at Eddie in accusation. "What the hell, Munson?!"

"I-I just, it was there and well, I thought-!" He stammered around, his hands moving along with his words as if he knew sign language with his arms and his eyes darted all around the room for an escape. Eventually he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I-I thought it was a music book and the bard in me needed to read it! T-to be fair some of those entries were lyrical beauties that with the right music behind them-!"

"You read my journal!" Joan paused her anger at the teens flinch and closed her eyes, counting back from 10. "...okay, okay I'm calm."

"...you sure?"

"Wanna ask me again and find out?"

"...no?"

"It's a wonder you're still in high school, Eddie." Joan opened her eyes with a sigh. She held up the book and pointed at it seriously. "Whatever you read stays between you and me, got it?!"

"But you've got some fuckin' deep words in there, Jo! I could help-!"

"To the grave, you and me, Munson!" Joan said firmly with a shake of the leather. "Or I'm taking out your guitar."

Eddie let out a tiny screech at the idea, jumping back in horror with his arms up in a pitiful guard. "Not my babygirl." He made a scratch like motion with his hands and hissed. "You bitch."

"Deal?"

"...deal, but I'm never letting you touch my guitar."

With a roll of her eyes, Joan stalked over to her bedroom to store the diary for later. She slammed the vanity shut with a sigh and turned around, bumping into Eddie whom she hadn't realized has followed her and now stared at everything in her room.

It's a rather intimate thing to share your personal space with a boy, Joan realized in horror as her face started to heat up. thankfully, Eddie was too preoccupied with reading all of the LotR, Doctor Who, and other book quotes quotes that littered the walls around her until he reached a corner of her room where a couple lines of sharpie rested.

"Love you, homegirl. Heather Hollo-."He stopped his reading perhaps a little too late with a hand over his mouth and the other over his eyes. Joan's own eyes squeezed shut, the nightmare threatening to resurface. "...sorry?"

"Let's just... let's just go start tuning the piano, okay?" She didn't want to sound defeated, but she couldn't help it. So far she knew everyone around her from her past, their future, but Eddie? He was unpredictable.

Eddie followed Joan out her bedroom and took one last look into the room with a wrinkled nose. "Pink? Really?"

"Pink is a great color." Heather's favorite color was pink.

"But that wallpaper... Doesn't it make you want to gauge your eyes out?"

"I love it."

Heather picked it out.

"...I'm going to see if I have any extra metal posters lying around." Eddie mumbled to himself, unconsciously playing with his hair and wrapping it around his face. "Get some good shit in there..."

"Eddie!"

"Right, right sorry. What am I supposed to do?"

"Ear to string. I'm gonna show you how to tap the string and then you'll tell me sharp or flat, I'll tightened and..."

Eddie nodded along, watching intently as Joan tapped and then repeated her process diligently. Satisfied, Joan grabbed some gloves and the tuning set, ready for instruction. Eddie eyes closed with each light thump of a string and Joan couldn't help the small smile at each face he made it dramatic pain.

"Oh God, definitely sharp, ugh." He'd gag at sharps and roll his eyes at flats, but better was the thump right after Joan tuned the note when his eyebrows would relax and a soft sigh would leave him in content.

Not that Joan Henderson was paying attention to Eddie Munson.

No, Agatha?

She would never do that.