Stranger Things - Imagines (Book 2)

Eddie Munson X Harrington!Reader - Zombie

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Zombie by The Cranberries. It contains descriptions of PTSD and minor panic attacks, so if that is going to affect you negatively, please skip this chapter. For this one, Reader is Steve's sister. I hope you all enjoy it.

Ever since the world had literally split open before your eyes and unleashed the Upside Down into Hawkins, you had been searching for a purpose. You'd hoped that you could find something fulfilling to do with your life, something that would help people, something that would make everything you had been through make sense. And then, when you were least expecting it, you'd been handed a leaflet from Hawkins Community College, and the course list had hit you like a ton of bricks. There was a whole selection of psychology and therapy training courses right on your doorstep and from that moment, you hadn't ever looked back. 

The course helped you unpack your own trauma and helped you to understand the way your mind had compartmentalized the things that you had seen in order to cope with them. They'd helped you to be more patient with Steve when he would avoid talking about any of it with you. And, when you'd mentioned it in passing to Eddie, after bumping into him on your way to campus, it had helped him to open up to you. 

When you started working on your dissertation, he'd been more than happy to work with you, letting himself remain an anonymous case study for your research into PTSD. And of course, that meant a hell of a lot of time spent together. Sure, you'd always been friends, though a little distant at first, but soon enough, you were becoming closer, and by the time you were handing in your research paper, you were practically inseparable. 

After a while, he would come and meet you after work, picking you up from your part-time job at the diner to either drive you home or back to the trailer to hang out for a while. It had been on one of those evenings that you'd seen him have an anxiety attack for the first time. 

He walked through the front door, quickly waving in your direction to let you know he'd arrived, and before he could get a word out, one of the patrons was glaring at him. It wasn't exactly a new thing for Eddie to receive a less-than-warm welcome around Hawkins. People still didn't have answers about what happened to Chrissy and in turn, the easiest response was to hate the person closest to it, even though he'd been proven innocent over 5 years before. 

"I'll be five minutes; I just need to clock out," you called out to him, sending him a soft smile in the hopes of dispersing the tenseness that had immediately overtaken him upon entering the building, before darting out into the back to finish up your shift. And it had worked for a second until one of the guys sitting at the table nearest the door had turned in his seat to stare right at Eddie like he was some sort of oddity on display. 

"You should know better than to come around places like this," he muttered, still glaring right at Eddie. "No one wants you in these parts."

Eddie had lowered his eyes to his feet, trying his hardest to ignore the comments.

"I'm talking to you, Freak," the guy pressed on, shoving his chair back to get to his feet. "You shouldn't be hanging out with a pretty thing like her, either. Bothering her just like you bothered Chrissy-"

You'd come back out as he was finishing his sentence, your eyes immediately landing on the confrontation and beelining to stand between them. 

"Back off," you bit out, jaw set tight as you glared up at him. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're better than this," he pressed on, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. "Or are you just one of those chicks that get off on murderers? Heard Ramirez got a ton of fanmail from girls just like you-"

"Eddie isn't a murderer," you interrupted. "And you don't know what you're talking about," you muttered. "So back off," you repeated, looking so damn angry that even Eddie was a little shocked. 

A small smirk pulled at the corner of the guy's lips, his tongue running over his teeth. "I can see why he's not killed you yet," he hummed. "Proper little spitfire, aren't ya?" He let out a soft chuckle. "Hey, Ed, next time I see you hanging around here, I'll show you how it must've felt to be Chrissy," he uttered over your head, smiling when you shoved him back a step, and holding up his hands in surrender. "Once I'm done with him, you'll think I'm the hottest guy in town, won't you, Sweetheart? My own little murder groupie."

"Fuck you," you growled, moving to shove him again until Eddie caught your arm, pulling you back as gently as he could manage, moving you towards the door. "Ed-"

"Let's just go," he breathed out, his words all uneven and awkward, causing you to turn your attention to him in an instant, your expression softening when you found him looking all wide-eyed and lost. 

"Okay," you murmured, nodding slightly as you placed your hand over his. "We're going," you added, hearing the snort coming from the guy behind you and forcing yourself to block it out. 

You quickly ushered Eddie outside towards the van, your free hand rubbing his back lightly, and the second you'd shut the doors behind you, he'd let out a shaking breath, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. 

"He was just some random asshole," you reminded him softly, reaching over to peel his fingers away from the wheel, linking them through yours. "He doesn't know you," you reminded him, watching as his eyes opened just enough to look at you, his breathing evening out slightly. "He doesn't know anything about you," you added, running your thumb over his knuckles. 

Eddie leant towards you, resting his forehead against your shoulder, fighting back sobs. "They all think I'm a murderer," he murmured, his voice thick with tears. "They think I'm going to hurt you."

"And they're all wrong," you started, reaching up to scratch lightly at his scalp, keeping him close. "I know you, Ed. I know who you are behind the music and the clothes and the rumours." You paused, shaking your head. "And I'm not going to be scared off by some overgrown asshole of a jock who doesn't know the difference between his ass and his elbow, alright?"

"He won't be the only one-"

"And I won't stop fighting back," you interrupted. "Ed, I don't care about them. I care about you."

He let out a soft sigh, pulling back to meet your eyes and finding you already smiling softly at him. 

"I care about the you that none of them gets to know," you pressed on. "The you who picks me up after every shift so that I don't have to walk alone. The you who always makes sure to have my favourite snacks at home in case I have a bad day. The you who cares about me."

He lifted his hand to brush some hair out of your face, letting out a hesitant breath as he met your eyes. "I love you," he confessed quietly. 

"I know," you chuckled. "I've known for months," you added softly, lifting your hand to place it over his on your cheek. "I love you too, Ed."

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