𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

[Tuesday, March 25th, 1986. NOW.]

Eddie Munson had always believed in fairy tales.

At first, it had simply been because his old man had taught him to believe in them. Magic potions from silver flasks that smelled like acid and made Eddie scrunch his nose, pixie dust his dad had sold in little plastic bags, the same glittering powder which had carried his mum to Neverland before he'd ever had the chance to remember more of her than the lavender-and-rosemary scent of her dark curls or the tune of her song when she'd hummed. Treasure hunts.

Growing up, though, Eddie had come to the painful realization that it were the magic potions which made his dad so angry at times, that treasure hunts weren't treasure hunts when the treasure actually belonged to someone else already, and that pixie dust didn't carry anyone anywhere except six feet under – and the fairy tales had lost their glitter and magic.

Until an old book had resurfaced, a single thread tying him to his mother – and his love for stories had been rekindled by the words on its worn-out, yellowed pages.

His old man had taught Eddie that not all was gold that glittered.

The Lord Of The Rings had taught him that magic existed – between the pages of a book, and in the colorful world of one's own mind.

And the girl resting in his bed in front of him, motionless but for the steady rise and fall of her chest, had taught Eddie that true love, the one he'd believed only to exist in stories, did exist – at the price of broken hearts.

But that was okay, fine by him, as long as her heart was beating and her chest rising and falling with each breath, Eddie could deal with the pain of a broken heart. That's what today had taught him. Nothing could be more painful than the though of you being just...gone.

The tinkling melody of his guitar filled the air of his Rightside Up bedroom, the strings now biting his fingertips with every stroke, but Eddie kept playing because for one, he was still scared senseless Vecna would still get you, and he feared he'd climb his walls with nerves as soon as he put the guitar away.

So music it was.

Who would have thought that Sleeping Beauty would be snoozing off her own curse in his bed one day, he added in his mind as he watched you, the gentle flutter of your eyelids, your beautiful features serene.

Just like all those Saturdays you'd napped in his bed while he'd played his guitar for you. The song remains the same.

And the irony of this song of all songs being the one to break Vecna's curse wasn't lost on Eddie while his restless mind filled in the lyrics to the melody for what might have been the hundredth time. Someday, love will find you...true love won't desert you...

If only a true love's kiss held any power in reality as well.

There were a few tiny white particles left which had caught in the strands of your hair – ashes from the fire, or spores from that strange dark mirror realm he couldn't tell – but Eddie didn't dare to reach out and brush them away.

He would play his guitar until his goddamn fingers fell off.

The words you'd sobbed right before unconsciousness had claimed you were playing in his mind on repeat, over and over again as he was trying to make sense of them, of the flames blooming around you like wildflowers in a meadow. His thoughts felt like a ball of wool ensnaring his as he kept trying to disentangle the damn yarn.

"I don't think you have to keep playing," Wheeler's soft voice ripped through the daze in Eddie's mind, making him start a little before she sat down at the edge of the bed to glance at you. "If you want to catch some sleep, I'll stay and watch her."