"Hey, uh, I'm sorry to interrupt whatever... this is, but...Well, do either of you know why Eddie just stormed out of the house saying he was going home after he was supposed to come and check on you guys?"

Willow's heart stops at Robin's words.

"What?" she chokes out a whisper, already starting to pull herself up. Steve looks just as shocked, twisting his body painfully to look at their friend with his feet still in the water.

"I said, Eddie just stormed out of the house-" Robin begins to repeat herself, but Willow cuts her off.

"I heard what you said. When was this?"

"Just now. Pretty sure the front door is still open."

Willow is shrugging off Steve's jacket from her shoulders, flinging it his way as he pulls his feet from the water. The cold air has him hissing sharply as he tries to rub warmth into his ankles.

When the leather smacks him in the face, he looks baffled, looking up at Willow, clearly prepared to argue that she keeps it on, "'Low, it's cold -"

"I don't care. I'm not chasing after him in your jacket."

She doesn't bother to explain. She doesn't even wait around to help Steve up, leaving Robin to help steady him on his feet. She's already making her way back to the sliding glass door, slipping into the house, strutting across the living room.

Robin wasn't joking; the front door is still open.

"Willow!" Dustin calls out, but she ignores the boy.

She'll apologize later. Right now, she doesn't care about anyone except Eddie.

She can see his figure making its way quickly down the winding driveway to his van parked at the end, his long strides forcing her to pick up her pace.

"Eddie!" her voice echoes out into the still night. She knows he hears her; there's not a single soul making noise besides her outside. Even Mother Nature has gone quiet, as if aware of what was about to happen. He ignores her.

Her thighs and lungs begin to burn when she picks up to nearly a jog, realizing he wasn't going to stop or turn around.

"Eddie, please!" she attempts to call out again. He's nearly to his van.

She can't let him leave. She has know idea what he had seen, what he had heard. Her gut whispers that he must have seen the kiss if he's acting this way, and it makes her want to cripple over in agony.

Because if he saw her kiss Steve and he leaves, she's terrified she won't see him again. And she'd deserve it.

God, if he walked away from her now, she knows she deserves it. If the roles were reversed, if she had ever seen Eddie kissing another girl, she knows she wouldn't be able to face him. She would have left him in the dust too.

"Please," she begs one last time, finally halting in the gravel behind him.

He still doesn't look at her, hand halted on his door handle. His voice finally sounds, rough and callous as he says, "I saw you kiss him. It's fine. The deal's done, right?"

"What?" she whispers. Her gut had been right; Eddie had seen the kiss, if not more. It shouldn't be so shocking to hear him say it out loud.

"The deal's off," he sounds more sure as he says it this time.

Her heart shatters to hear him say the words.

"No, I-"

He cuts her off, "You kissed him. You got the guy, Red. That was our deal, right?" When she doesn't answer him, he continues, "You help me graduate, I help you get Harrington. Seems like we've both done our part."

He still won't turn to look at her.

"You haven't graduated yet," she blurts, desperate and grasping at straws now.

He chuckles humorlessly, "I'm sure I'll manage. I'm not failing any classes yet - it's a new record."

He's serious. He wants to end the deal. There's nothing she can say to change his mind.

She should have seen it coming.

"Please look at me."

It's killing her: the way he won't look at her, the way he's so quick to leave, the way he sounds so unaffected. She wants him to scream at her. She wants him to yell until his throat collapses, the same way she aches to. She wants to see him fall apart the way she was about to.

She just wants to know he cares as much as she does.

"I can't," his voice cracks for the first time. The first break that proves any of this is bothering him.

"Why?"

"Because if I look at you now, I won't be able to leave."

She's selfish. She's out of her mind, so selfish that she nearly reaches out and grabs him by his shoulder, forcing him to spin and look at her.

Do it, she pleads silently, look at me. Look at me and don't leave.

"Would that really be the worst thing in the world?" she holds back the sobs forming in her chest, voice wavering as she fails to keep herself completely together.

She's crumbling, bit by bit, piece by piece. And it's not even right before his eyes. She wishes it was, she wishes she was looking into big brown eyes, reassuring her in waves of softness. But she doesn't deserve that anymore. She's lost her right to that privilege.

"It would," he sighs. She can't even see his reflection in his window, but she can see the tremble in his shoulder blades, "Trust me."

Denial. Heartache. Grief. Anger. Dejection.

She goes through the motions of each emotion, trying to unravel them all and make some sense of it.

"What happened to still being friends after all of this?" she questions foolishly. She's running out of ways to make him stay.

Another grim laugh, a huff of air that she can hear force itself out of his chest and from between his lips. "I lied. I can't be just friends with you."

She finally ignores her better judgment and places a hand on his shoulder. She expects him to shrug her off, to reject her touch, but he doesn't. He lets her yank on him until he's turned and fully facing her.

Immediately, she sees the tears.

They're unshed, painting his irises with a glassy film. She can easily see the night sky reflected in them.

Normally, she's entranced by the way his eyes hold the stars. She could spend hours learning his constellations, memorizing the bursts of stardust that reside there and in each freckle that sporadically spatters across his chest. She'd spent countless hours only wishing she could learn about the supernovas that occurred in that mind of his, listening to him talk and imagining the vibrant colors that resided there after each explosion. She'd wasted countless midnight wishes on the falling stars that leapt from his fingertips each time they'd brushed over her hip bones.

There were infinite Universes inside of Eddie Munson, and she always found herself craving to get lost in each and every single one.

Except this one. This one is different, because this one is not a Universe bursting out of her boy.

He's nearly lifeless. Those stars in his eyes tonight were not his own, his own galaxy dimming as the constellations reflected were the same ones hung up in the midnight blue sky above them. The ones of this world. The ones she already knew too well. They were not the ones that had captured her attention upon meeting Eddie.

And it's her fault. The reflective tears lining his ducts were all her fault.

"The plan worked, Red," he croaks now that he's face to face with her, no longer keeping up the tough act in his voice, "Let me go. Please."

"No," she automatically responds. She can't do it. And she certainly can't lie to him and brush it off as if she could.

"I kept up my half of the deal, and I am officially relieving you of your end. Just let me go, let me leave and let's pretend this-"

"I'm done pretending," her voice is growing louder.

He finally shrugs off her touch that had overstayed its welcome on his shoulder.

" You're done pretending?" he matches her energy, his own voice raising a few octaves, "You're done pretending. Right, of course you are. After you've gotten the guy you wanted, after you got your happy ending. Of course you're done pretending."

"What about this tells you I got my happy ending?" she snaps back.

My happy ending? No, this is my own personal Hell.

"It's obvious!" he's yelling now, throwing his hands up in defeat, "You and Steve are just two peas in a pod. You get to go back to your normal life, life before you met me. You get to pretend this never happened. Everything about that tells me you got yours."

"And you?" she pushes, "What about you? You get to go back to your life before me , Eddie. You get to go back to the guy who acts like he doesn't care, who parades around the town like nothing affects you, when I know that isn't true."

I hope that isn't true. I hope that this affects you.

" Right. Can't you just see the way I'm shaking with excitement? I can't wait! I get to go back to being the freak . I get to go back to having to fend on my own, and sitting back as I watch Harrington get the girl. You're so right, Red, I simply can't wait to go back to the way things were."

Harrington . He's bringing up Steve again, spitting out his name like poison, the same way he'd done the first time they'd had a full conversation at the Hideout.

They've already reverted to their old ways. They were just too blind to see it as it had happened in the blink of an eye.

"They're going to keep talking about us, you know? It's going to be all anyone is capable of whispering about, the way you were converted back to the good side. The way you left me for Harrington. I'm the one who's taking the fall here. They aren't going to bother the girlfriend of their precious alumni king. They're going to bother the town outcast."

She hadn't considered that until Eddie said it. It had never crossed her mind, even before she had fallen so sickly in love with him, that he was going to be taking on most of the damage in the aftermath of them. That she would have protection due to her connection to Steve.

She had never considered it before, because she had never considered that there would ever be an aftermath.

"I-" she falters, unsure of her next words. There's nothing she can say right now to make this right, "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I'm sorry I couldn't change an entire town's opinion of you in a few months?"

"I don't want to hear anything. What I want is to go home and pretend this was all a bad dream."

His words cut her, just as he clearly intended. She can feel tears burning her own eyes now.

A bad dream. That's all this was to him - some nightmare he'd get to wake up from eventually. This entire situation had become all-consuming to her, something she would never be able to erase from her soul, while it was just another thing for him to sleep off.

"Tell me it was all fake," her voice betrays her, wobbling as she tries to take on a strong stance, "Tell me it was all purely pretend, even the friendship, and I'll let you leave."

He's the speechless one now. She can see his anger, his frustration, his distress with each heaving of his chest.

When he finally regains his wits, he's still shooting to kill, "Just go run back to your boyfriend, Red. I'm sure Harrington's waiting for you. Tell him we broke it off and you're all his now."

They had never spoken to each other like this. Even the night at the Hideout hadn't felt so personally targeted. Willow knows she started it in the living room, in her tone when she broke up the brewing fight between Steve and Eddie, but it still stings.

If he wants to hurt her, fine. She could hurt him right back. She could go against every instinct screaming in her anatomy and be just as cruel. Even when all she wants to do is give up the fight. Even when all she wants to do is go back home with him, to lie in her bed like they usually would, to just forget this night but not them .

"Jesus, it's still about Steve to you," her voice raises a fw octaves, letting her pain control her more than before, "This is all still some grand pissing contest with Steve. I'm- I'm not even a person at this point, am I? I'm just some fucking prize."

When he doesn't respond, it only fans the flames further.

"It's always been this, hasn't it? Since that first night, at the Hideout!" she takes a step back away from him, forcing the distance as if she needs it, when it's the last thing she wants. But the longer he stares at her without saying a word, the more she's believing everything she says. She was just some reconciliation prize; she had fallen in love with him, and she was nothing more than a trophy to him, "You know what I want, Munson? I want a time machine. I want to go back and stop this mess from ever happening. I wish I never kept your jacket, which was just another fucking ploy to get under Steve's skin-"

"It was never about Harrington!" his sudden loud tone booms into the silence with hers, stunning her quiet for a few moments, "Jesus Christ ! This isn't about Steve!"

"Then what is it about?" She matches the energy and he takes a few steps to her. She wants to step away, but her feet are planted, "If it's not about Steve, then why are you throwing this all away so suddenly? What happened to me being your best friend ?"

"I'm not throwing this away. We did what we set out to do. So now, I'm being the adult here and walking away ."

She laughs bitterly, throwing her head back and looking to the sky in order to blink back fresh tears, "Right. Of course. Being an adult. Because that's what adulthood is: running from your problems. Sorry I missed that lesson in school."

"I'm not running away!" he defends himself, growing red in the face.

"Then, please enlighten me, Eddie. What are you doing? Because I- I don't know anymore," she pauses and takes a trembling breath. Fighting with Eddie was a losing game. Each punch she threw only bruised her own knuckles, completely defenseless as she watched them go rounds. There was no winner in this ring tonight, "Because one second, you're kissing me on my bed. You're forgetting how to speak all because I'm next to you. And then the next, you're suddenly calling it quits and you're throwing it all away."

"Because I saw you fucking kiss him, Red!"

Willow is shaking. Her entire body vibrates with anger, hands coming up in front of her and into the space between her and Eddie. She's waving them for emphasis, "See! Steve . This all circles back to Steve for you!"

"For the last time, none of this is about fucking Harrington!"

Her hands have curled into white-knuckled fists, dropping to her sides as she goes to take another step back.

He stops her. One of his hands flies out and grips her hip, holding her in place. Even in his anger, there's a certain delicacy in the way he curls his knuckles against her.

Something of a reflexive gentleness. A sour reminder that this argument, the insults and expletives they are continuing to hurl back and forth, are not their normal. Something that they had seemed to have forgotten in the fire.

"Tell me, Red," his voice softens as he draws closer, their chests nearly pressing against each other now, "If this is all about your precious Harrington, why didn't I follow you back into the bar that night?"

"What?" he may be calming down, but she isn't. She still feels her knuckle ache and her eyes burn, and the anger radiating off of her is palpable.

"That night at the Hideout, when I had you keep my jacket. If I only made you keep it to piss off Harrington, why didn't I come back inside with you? Why didn't I witness Steve's reaction in real time?"

He's officially stumped her. She's still pissed, but she's been effectively stumped.

What does that have to do with anything right now? Why is he bringing up that night?

"If I really only made you keep my jacket for that reason, I would have wanted to see his fucking face when he saw my claim on you. But I didn't . I didn't follow you back inside, did I?"

"No," she whispers, voice strained from restraint. She wanted to scream in his face, but she knew she'd regret it once the haze of the fight cleared.

"It's not about Harrington," he repeats himself, red-rimmed eyes searching hers. She doesn't know what he's looking for there, what he believes he's lost there. Because even as she's seeing red, even as she tries to hurt him so badly in defensiveness, she still feels that tug on her heart. Underneath all the emotion, she is still looking at him as she always had.

All the love in the world. She's only in a screaming match with him right now because she loves him. She's only fighting with him right now because she cares.

It's not her versus him. It's her fighting for this. She's fighting for him to stay and care as much as she does.

"If it's not about Harrington, why are you leaving?" she breathes out.

"You still don't get it, do you?" all his defenses have been tossed aside, and all that's left is a broken boy. He's looking at her with pure disbelief. His hand lets go of her hip and he finally takes a step back. The invisible tether between them strains.

"Get what ?" Stray tears are finally leaking from her eyes, she can taste their salt on her lips.

He laughs loudly, and if she hadn't seen that broken boy before, she'd believe he was entertained. But there's a lack of melody to the sound as he drags his hands up over his face, rings glinting harshly in the moonlight.

"Listen, I get that I am stupid and that I fucked up-" she starts up her ranting again, loud and bellowing, growing frustrated. They're not on the same page - they haven't been this entire fight. They were in completely opposite libraries, even. Eddie is writing an entirely different novel than she is right now.

"You are," he interrupts, hands dropping, a morose smile gracing his features. Even in his gloom, he's gorgeous and captivates her, "You are so fucking stupid and you are so fucking blind because you can't see that I am in love with you ."

When Steve had confessed to Willow, her entire world had stopped.

But when the word's fall from Eddie's lips, her world begins to spin faster. It circles around her, impossible to keep up with. It's taunting her, keeping everything out of her reach as it speeds past her.

When she doesn't respond - not out of spite but because she physically can't - he decides to continue on.

"I am in love with you. And I have been since that night, even if I didn't know it yet. I told you to keep the jacket so I knew I'd see you again. I made you keep the fucking jacket because I needed to see you again so badly, and girls like you don't give guys like me a second glance," his words start off as coming out between pants, but with each word, is tone because sure and strong. His eyes never leave hers. "I always knew how we would end, and like an idiot , I let myself get completely caught up in you. I kept hoping for next times knowing I would get burned. You've destroyed me, Willow Jenkins. My mind, my body, my soul. You have absolutely wrecked me. I am so goddamn in love with you, and I will always be second choice to Steve. You were always going to choose him. I never stood a fucking chance."