&&. Max + Eddie 006 - Blog Posts

zccming·:

WHO: max mayfield & @eddiemcnson· WHAT: max checks in with eddie. WHERE: forest hills trailer park.

if max had to guess, she’d say she got a solid half hour of sleep in her twenty-four hours at the hospital. and that had been when she was waiting to get her hands stitched up per steve’s request. eventually, she checked on everyone one last time for the night, then peeled out of the hospital and straight for the trailer park. she was banking on eddie having been released and if he hadn’t yet? she was fully prepared to burn hawkins p.d to the fucking ground. it was like as soon as max ticked one concern off her post-disaster checklist, five more got added to the bottom. she didn’t have enough sleep on her side to keep up with it all, but she was trying. and in all fairness? it got infinitely easier to do when she ran out of tears to cry at around five o’clock in the evening that same day. 

skating from the hospital to the trailer park was a fucking trip and a half. max had learned that the hard way back in ‘86 when she stubbornly insisted she could still skateboard home with a broken arm. luckily for her, a car full of her friends who knew she was being stupid about the whole thing followed close behind to pick her up when she gave up less than halfway into the journey. max’s hands might have been bandaged, and her mind might’ve been a little broken following the warped record of what happened in the past twenty-four hours, but this time, she made it the whole way. it was the one place it made sense to go to first, share the news about steve.

carelessly, she chucked her board somewhere in the yard on her arrival, and willed her tired body to sprint up the steps and bang on the door. when eddie opened it, relief washed over her as she hugged him and refused to let go for a long minute, a minute where she didn’t think about how bad it was out there, and live in the space where she was happy she hadn’t lost another brother. when max stepped back she croaked up at him, “how fucked are you?” then she nodded a little, “don’t sugar coat it, munson.” she demanded. standing still, max suddenly felt jittery and couldn’t wait for his answer before interrupting him again, “wait, first, sit down.” she started barking orders the moment she got out of the house of mirrors, and hadn’t stopped since. figuring eddie hadn’t had the sense to eat, because she hadn’t, she beelined for the kitchen and got to fixing them…bowls of cereal. while she was digging in the fridge for milk, she called out to him, “you can answer now.” it took her about five minutes after that to sit down with their bowls that were most likely going to remain untouched. 

+++

despite his various run ins with the law over the years, eddie had only ever been arrested once before, when some nosy nelly had caught him with a joint in gareth's garage freshman year, and had promptly reported them. moving to chicago had made him clean up his act, or rather hide his act more proficiently. he wasn't dealing anymore, hadn't been since graduation, and when the cops once again raided one of the bars he frequented he was the first to pluck that bandana from his back pocket and book it.

returning to hawkins for the summer, eddie had been prepared for lots of things. dirty looks burning into his back, sneers, maybe even a couple pushes and shoves here and there. but he'd expected to be relatively safe, seeing as he'd planned to lay low, anyway. and now? now it was like '86 all over again. the upside down had undeniably snuck its way back into their lives, eddie felt the effects weigh heavy on his mind as he absentmindedly rubbed the burns that officer callahan's handcuffs had left on his wrists.

just like 86, when he'd woken up chained to a hospital bed until hopper and some dubious government agents had come through with a cover story, clearing him of all charges. just like 86, when he'd looked up from where he'd been pushed to the ground by callahan, he'd caught the curious bystander's looks. accusatory glances as he was manhandled to the back of the police car. 'that's him', they seemed to whisper among themselves, 'that's that deadbeat satan worshipper that killed all those kids' 86. no wonder he's responsible for this, too. '

he'd been home for approximately an hour or two when max had come knocking at his door. eddie hadn't slept a wink and it showed, lids threatening to flutter shut at any given moment, palms nearly bloody from how he'd nervously scratched at them for hours. when max had come knocking he'd simply opened the door, no 'hello', no 'thank fuck you're okay', not even a nod, he'd stepped aside to let her in. closed the door, then followed her order to sit down, the sofa felt weird underneath him, a sharp contrast to the rough, hard bench in the prison cell.

his eyes focused on nothing in particular, eddie coughed, mouth feeling awfully dry. when was the last time he'd had a sip of water? max's hands carrying the bowls came into view, he frowned. "what happened to your hand? are you hurt?"