a/n: surprise! it's my birthday, and i simply couldn't wait until sunday to post this chapter. enjoy

"Not happening."

" Eddie . Please."

"No! I hate parties."

"Yeah, I do too, which is why you have to go."

"I have Hellfire."

"I'm sure they'll let you cancel."

"Nope, big campaign, highly anticipated. Can't let them down like that, sweetheart."

Eddie Munson was stubborn his entire life, but when he met Willow Jenkins, he had met his match. She had made sure of that.

She didn't care how long he tried to occupy himself with his guitar rather than pay attention to her sprawled out on his bed, face propped up on her hands at the end of the bed closest to him as she lay on her stomach with her feet kicked up into the air. If Robin was going to manage to drag Willow along to this ridiculous party that Steve was hosting with the intent of playing match-maker for Robin and Vickie, then Willow was going to force Eddie to experience her pain right there with her.

It had all started on Wednesday, when the idea had first become a plan for her trio to put into motion. They were driving home from Steve picking up Robin and Willow at school, and Robin had fallen down another Vickie tangent.

"Alright, I can't take this anymore," Steve interrupted a flustered Robin, "Jenkins, are you with me?"

Willow had no idea where this was going, but nodded furiously anyways, "Oh, absolutely."

"You know what has to be done," Steve added, very serious, and Willow continued her clueless nodding. "A party."

"Ye- Wait, what?" Willow said, caught off guard. Robin was immediately looking mortified.

Steve continued on his explanation to the two girls, "A party! Look, I throw a party, you invite all the band geeks including Vickie, and make your move!"

"Dingus, I can't make a move on Vickie," Robin began to argue, but Steve wasn't having any of it.

"The only thing you have to fear is fear itself," he said, stoically as if it were the most poetic thing that had ever crossed his mind. Willow had to hide her snort.

Robin sighed, "Or becoming a town pariah."

With a little more arguing, and reassurance on Steve's part, they had convinced Robin to agree to the plan. Willow had only stood by Steve's side of the argument because she really did want to see her friend happy, and Vickie made her happy. She was completely on board - a party to force the two together, maybe even pry a love confession from one of the idiots. It felt fool-proof.

Until Robin made the deal that she would only agree to the party if Willow went.

From there, it was downhill. Willow hated parties - it would never be her scene. She wasn't a social butterfly, she wasn't fond of any drugs her peers partook in, and she wasn't a drinker. Nothing about parties felt inviting to her.

And so, now, she was hanging out with Eddie after school and begging him to come and be her saving grace. They didn't even have a reason to hang out. But when Willow had caught up with him in the parking lot after school, no one questioned it: Eddie didn't, Robin didn't, even Steve didn't (vocally, at least).

"C'mon. Please ," Willow tries one last time, and Eddie sighs before he sets down his acoustic guitar, "For me? You can be my getaway car, even. An excuse to leave early."

"If you hate them so much, why are you going?" he questions, leaning forward onto his knees.

" Because , Robin asked me, and I'm a good friend unlike someone I know."

"Oh, let me guess - that someone is me, right?"

"I knew you were smart," she teases, kicking her feet in dramatic effect, "I bet Steve could even sweet talk your sheep into being less angry."

He's wordless as he swivels his chair to face his desk, and Willow can't see around his shoulder for what he's doing for a few quiet moments.

She smells it, though.

The stench of weed fills the room as Willow can hear some tinkling. Soon enough, Eddie is turning back around to face her with a freshly rolled joint in one hand and a lighter in the other.

"I'm not high enough for this conversation," he jokingly explains at her wide eyes before he's placing the joint in his lips, lighting it up in a similar fashion to how he would a cigarette.

Willow wouldn't lie - weed had always peaked her curiosity. Her classmates always talked about it in such a fascinating manner, chattering about how carefree it made them feel when they indulged, the floating feeling that would take over their head and limbs. The first time she'd ever encountered it had been in her very own home, even; she had smelt something pungent coming from the room across her own back in her small childhood home in Pennsylvania and investigated, only to be shooed away in annoyance considering she was eleven at the time.

The smoke uncurls itself from Eddie's lungs slowly, a patient exhale allowing the cloud to slip between his lips as his eyes flutter close and his head tips back. He looks just as relaxed as he had that night at Lover's Lake with his cigarettes, and it lights her curiosity in the exact same way.

She was starting to realize it wasn't a desire to really smoke these things - it was the desire to have an excuse to get close to Eddie by any means necessary.

With anybody else, this childish need would transport her into the feeling of being the annoying little sister, to feel as if she were serving as nothing but a bother to the person. She had experienced that a few times with Steve, if she were being honest. She's sure it had never been his intention to make her feel that way - but he had, nevertheless, and it had left her always worried about being too clingy. To hesitate and be strategic in when she would ask for their group to hang out, for how much attention she would seek out when visiting him at work. Somedays, she'd allow herself to be loud and rambunctious, but there were some days she couldn't - she would force herself to cramp down into a mental box, to swallow down her voice and jokes to allot her friends some sort of space even while in her presence. Robin was the only person she very rarely had to do such with, but even then, Willow lived with a knot of worry that one day, her best friend would grow tired of her.

Eddie had never given her reason to feel this way with him. He was the one to initiate them constantly hanging out, he was the one draping himself across her space so casually it worked. It didn't stop her worry. One day, possibly soon, she was convinced Eddie would grow tired of her.

She's lost in her head, wondering if it had been a mistake to practically invite herself over. Especially after her spectacle on Tuesday night, she was starting to worry herself sick that Eddie was actually turning to lighting up in an effort to ignore the strain her presence was causing him.

She doesn't notice Eddie watching her curiously, his eyes tracing each new stress line that forms as her mind runs wild.

"Keep thinking that hard and the wrinkles might become permanent, doll," he finally says, leaning forward as the joint hangs loosely between his fingers.

He startles her with his words, bringing her back down to Earth, "Who says I'm thinking hard right now?"

"Oh, you know..." Eddie's voice is lighthearted as he pauses to take another puff off the joint, slowly releasing it before continuing, "Just your entire face."

As he finishes the thought, his entire face breaks out into a grin. When Willow doesn't reciprocate, her face still riddled in worry, he's suddenly standing up.

"Where are you going?" she mumbles against her hands, eyes watching him closely with nerves. Maybe this was it, he got bored and would venture off to the other room to get away from her. She had finally done it - she had overstepped boundaries with Eddie Munson.

He doesn't leave the room, though. Instead, he crosses the space between them to sit down on the edge of the bed beside her, causing her elbow to brush his thigh immediately.

"Tell me what you're thinkin'," he insists, slowly lowering himself back on his elbows as he places the joint between his lips again.

She would rather die than admit her insecurity. No, the childish thoughts would go to the grave with her. She doesn't have to think too hard to come up with a lie to cover up what was actually bothering her.

"Just my childhood home," she sighs, turning onto her side to get a better view of the boy beside her.

He raises an eyebrow, "And where is that? Is it somewhere around here? Don't tell me you actually grew up in the Creel house or some spooky shit."

"What?" her nose scrunches up as she pictures the rundown house that kids tell scary stories about, immediately shaking her head, "God, no. That place is a safety hazard - and probably has been for years ."

"Okay, then where did you grow up?"

Willow had never divulged Eddie into the full details of her life pre-Hawkins. There had been too many slippery slopes to navigate. If she told him about it, it would bring up her father in a worse light, it would bring up Parker. But Willow had already bared her soul when it came to her now estranged father, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she spilled her guts on the Parker topic. She really had nothing to lose, now.

"Pennsylvania," she reveals nervously, watching Eddie soak in her words.

Another cloud passes his lips. "Where in Pennsylvania?"

"This little town called New Hope. It's about thirty miles from Philadelphia, an hour from the Big Apple."

"Jesus, you grew up that close to all those big and shiny cities? Damn. I guess it makes sense," Eddie chuckles, finally letting himself fully fall back and lay down.

Willow immediately resituates herself, sitting up and flipping so that her face is closer to his, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've got this city-girl-attitude to you, Red. Kind of seems like you belong somewhere like NYC rather than little ol' Hawkins," he explains shamelessly, eyes boring into hers. The rims were starting to tinge pink, and she could see just how relaxed he had gotten.

"Please," she scoffs, "If anyone belongs in a big city, it's you."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I can see it now - after graduation, Corroded Coffin is going to take off, and you're gonna leave Hawkins in the dust of your rearview as you make your way up to New York City. You'll probably meet some skeevy music producer in a dive bar, strike a deal, the whole shady scenario. And you'll live in some cramped apartment with at least thirty stray cats that you've taken in because you've got a bleeding heart , Munson," she lets all the words fall from her lips without care. But she can tell that the picture she's painting is pleasing to Eddie by his smile, "You'd fit right into a big city like that, you know? The people tend to be pretty mean, but with your big and scary persona? They won't even think of messing with you."

"Until they find out about the thirty strays," he points out.

She nods, "Until they find out about the thirty strays."

He sighs, and the comfortable silence wraps them up. Willow always had a hard time thinking in the future-tense; whenever someone asked her about college, she'd freeze up. Whenever someone would bug her about what she wanted to do with her life career-wise, she'd shrug and change the subject. She had never let herself look too far ahead. And it worked out fine for her, except that she also struggled to glance back at her past with much fondness. It kept her in a constant limbo, always stuck in the present, never any chance to learn from yesterday or fantasize about tomorrow.

"Have you ever been to the big cities? Since you lived so close to them?" Eddie's question is soft, low and quiet as his eyes flutter shut and he relaxes into his comforter.

He has no idea the ramifications. Willow was pretty sure this was the first time in years she had been able to discuss her childhood with someone in such a carefree tone. But the answer to his question is more than a simple yes. Because, yes, obviously she'd seen the streets of Philadelphia and the smog of New York. Almost everyone in her small town had managed to at some point while living so close-by, even if only just once.

Willow hadn't gone just once. She had gone tons of times, several weekends occupied with going to the bookstores in the big cities, roaming the streets with her favorite person.

It was a sore topic because it was a Parker topic.

But to her shock, she doesn't even overthink the words before she answers him, "Yeah. I actually used to go all the time with my brother."

Eddie's eyes immediately peek open at this, "Brother?"

"Mhm," she nods, suddenly nervous as Eddie is lifting himself to sit up and give her his full attention, "My brother. Parker."

They both stay terribly still, holding their breaths as the words linger between them. The answer to a question that Eddie had politely tried to not pester her with since their movie night.

"Parker?" he finally says in a small tone, looking at her softly.

She can only nod as she also sits up, "Yeah. He used to always take me to bookstores and stuff in town, because New Hope is known for that stuff. But it's all suburban and conservative, and there's only so many books that could catch a ten year old's interest, you know? So one day, after he got his license, he just asked if he could borrow my parents' car. My mom didn't even get to finish telling him that he only could if he took me, because he was already dragging me behind him once she gave him the keys."

Eddie's smile is gentle as his glazed over eyes focus entirely on her, urging her to continue on. She ignores the knot in her throat.

"Philadelphia always had the best museums and bookstores, so when we were feeling that, we'd go there. But then he finally asked if he could take me to New York, and my dad almost had an aneurysm. I mean, he was their golden child, so they said yes, but they gave us so many rules. Parker just wanted to go because he wanted to try New York-style pizza in New York, though."

She calls back on that trip with fondness, remembering it clear as day.

"No, no, no! You have to eat it like this ," Parker stressed at Willow as he dramatically folded the over-sized slice of pizza he held in half, "See?"

"Why?" a young Willow scrunched her nose, glaring at her brother across the rickety outdoors table they were seated at, "That's stupid."

"You're stupid," is the only comeback Parker mustered before digging into his food.

Despite Willow's insult, she still copied him - she folded her pizza and tried to not complain about all the grease that drained over her hand as she took her first bite.

Her brother had been right, of course. The pizza was better in New York. Any pizza with that much grease was sure to be a hit with a ten year old. She was never going to tell him that, though, and she didn't have to.

She got the feeling he already knew by the prideful look he held as the two finished their slices silently.

Willow doesn't realize that she's teary-eyed until Eddie's hand is suddenly cupping her cheek.

"Sorry," she whispers, snapping her eyes shut and willing the tears away. She refused to cry in front of him again, "I just- I haven't talked about him to anybody in a really long time."

"It's okay," he immediately reassures her. The joint is no longer lit, probably because Eddie hasn't moved to take a single puff of it since she started to spill her guts regarding her childhood. His next question is what does it for her, though, "What happened to him?"

She immediately shakes her head, a single tear finally breaking from her waterline despite how tightly she cinches her eyes shut.

Eddie doesn't pressure her, his thumb raking over her cheek in a soothing manner, "That's okay. It's all good. We don't have to talk about it. A story for another day, yeah?"

"Yeah. Another day," she agrees, finally opening her eyes to look at him. At those doe eyes, glistening with nothing but concern for her. All she wants is to move on from the monumental moment for herself, but Eddie has other plans.

She isn't sure of what he's doing as he suddenly leans and places the joint in one of his ashtrays on his bedside table, fitting what's left into one of the slots on the side. Once his hands are free, he scoots himself up his bed and props himself up on his pillows, shifting as he gets comfortable before opening his arms and looking at her expectantly.

"C'mere," is all he whispers to her.

"What?" she tries to laugh it off. She didn't want his pity - no, she just wanted to pretend that she had never brought up the topic of Parker. She wishes she could reach out into the air and grab the words back that were hers, to shove them back into the crevices of her chest and never let them escape again. It had been foolish and vulnerable.

"Did I stutter?" he drawls, leaning his head to the side as he stares at her, "Come here, Willow."

It's the use of her name that has her suddenly moving. Because one second, there's still a chance for her to joke and bring back the light-hearted airiness of the room. But the moment he says her name, she breaks. She tries to blink away any tears that were still burning in the back of her eyes, but it's useless as she climbs her way up and presses her face into his chest. His arms waste no time engulfing her.

Her cries are quiet - nothing like the way she had cried about missing her brother before. There were no violent sobs, no gasping breaths, no disgusting snot or shakes that unsettled her bones. All she could allow were the tears to slip freely down her cheeks and onto Eddie's chest, her breathing only hiccuping mildly from time to time as the occasional whimper would fall from her lips. Eddie simply held her. He allowed her to press her cheek to his Judas Priest t-shirt and form a wet spot as the smell of cloves and cinnamon became her grounding factor. He smoothed his hands down her back, letting his fingertips eventually begin to draw shapes and words over the back of her neck as he brought her into him even closer.

"I'm sorry," she finally musters, sniffling slightly as her tears slow.

"For what?" Eddie asks her quizzically, the movements of his hands only faltering for a second before continuing on. She tried to focus on what he was spelling out on her bare skin, but came up clueless, "You're allowed to have emotions, Red. Especially here in la casa de Eddie."

She laughs weakly at that, finally weakening the grip one of her fists had on his shirt over his chest, "I'm a mess. Thank you for putting up with that."

"Want in on a little secret?" Eddie is whispering into her hair as if raising their voices would break the moment, the serenity that was finally coming down over them.

"Please," she begs just as quietly.

His left hand trails its way up to the back of her head, fingertips pressing softly into her scalp as he says, "I'm a mess, too."