𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 || EDDIE MUNSON

Morning Regrets

EARLY that morning Wayne had come home from work a bit later than he normally had, the older man mostly got off of work around five in the morning, but he had stayed two hours late. Really he was trying to get a few extra hours in, maybe working up to a promotion if he was lucky. He wanted Eddie to be provided for, even if he was well overdue for a job of his own, but that was his boy; his Eddie, and would keep food on the table and the lights on, even if it meant he was rarely home.

Walking in the front door he wiped the bottom of his shoes off on the side of the porch with a grimace. Eddie wasn't normally one to puke after a rowdy night, let alone on the front lawn, but things happened. He just hoped his nephew hadn't overdone himself with his indulgences that night.

Wayne sighed, turning off the T.V that played only the repetitive white noise of static. Looking to the fold-out couch he frowned in confusion, a bowl with what looked like a bloody rag sat on the arm of the sofa. The man felt a small pit of worry in his stomach as he made his way down what now felt like an impossibly long hallway, normally Eddie was a snorer, but there was no such sound. Wayne pushed his cracked door open, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

Eddie laid out in his bed, still clothes from the night before, his upper body just barely propped up by the wall and his head lolling to the side slightly, his chin to his chest. But that wasn't what shocked Wayne, no. It was the girl curled up next to him, one arm securely around her shoulder and back, like a seatbelt. The other resting protectively against her hip, his fingers sprawled out against the exposed skin. It looked like he was shielding her, Wayne thought. Like she'd slip away if the boy didn't have a hold on her.

"Eddie," Wayne whispered. The boy stirred lightly, "Ed." He said again.

Eddie inhaled slowly as he groggily picked his head up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes with knitted brows. "What time is it?" the boy asked.

"Just past seven-thirty," Wayne told him. "Stepped in your puke," The man told Eddie, who looked at him quizzically. "I told you to pace yourself." He said sternly.

Eddie seemed to have an understanding after those words, his tired brain computing the sentence. "No," He shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Wasnt me," He pointed to Brandy, upon seeing the disappointed look plastered on his uncle's face he added, "I didn't give her the alcohol." The brunette told him. "Just had the pleasure of the retrieval." He hummed sarcastically.

Eddie peeled himself away from the slumbering girl and stood, reaching his arms above his head with a satisfying pop. Brandy mumbled something in her sleep, Eddie let out a quiet chuckle. Bending back down he pulled the sheets over her body, minding to not disturb her any further. Turning back to his uncle he sighed with a lax face, the bags under the boy's eyes not going without notice from the older Munson man.

"What time did you go to sleep?" He asked his nephew.

"Round' four, maybe five." Eddie shuffled his way past his uncle, making his way to the quiet kitchen. "Didn't want her to puke in her sleep or something." He mumbled, moving over to the coffee pot.

"You drinkin' coffee now?" Wayne chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter, his body feeling exhausted as well.

"Tired." Was all that Eddie mumbled, pouring the hot coffee into one of many mugs in the trailer, pouring his uncle one as well.

There was a silence as he passed off the cup of Joe, just as Wayne took the cup from Eddie's fingertips there was the sound of movement, the two men looked down the hall, their faces nearly identical in expression as they watched as Brandy rushed to the bathroom. Wayne looked at Eddie with a raised brow. The boy sighed, taking a long sip of his coffee before placing the mug a little too harshly on the counter, walking to the bathroom he heard retching, gagging, and choking alike.