Fight or Flight (Eddie Munson x Y/N)

24. "Push It"*

You wake up the next morning with the fuzzy recollection of everything that happened the night before. You were hoping maybe it was all a bad dream but the splitting headache you're experiencing says otherwise.

"Mmm," you groan in pain, as you try to open your eyes to the sunlight streaming through your window. You can actually feel your pulse in your temples. You shut your eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You are never drinking that much again. Under any circumstances.

The next thing you realize is you're not alone. One hand over your hip and the other above his head, Eddie is sleeping soundly with his cheek resting against your back.

You really want to be mad at him. But way he's curled up around you says everything. Positioned to protect you, even in his sleep.

A lot of the night before is fractured snap shots in your brain...but his words, his tears...those stood out. You had worked so hard over the past few years to give yourself some grace for what had happened, for all the ways you felt you thought you had caused what happened to you. But Eddie had been through a lot in his life too: his dad in jail, his mom leaving, being labeled a freak that would amount to nothing in school. He was still battling demons the way you were. You weren't ready to let go of him. Stacy saw what you had been seeing, too; there was something special here between the two of you, something special about him.

You slowly turn over to face the sleeping Eddie and study his face. It's peaceful, the bravado and manic tendencies stripped away. He breathes quietly out of his mouth, lips parted. His hair is all over the place, sticking up in different directions.

Your turning over causes him to stir. He takes his hand from your hip and rubs his eyes. He opens them slightly but they widen quickly when he sees you're awake too. "Hey," he croaks. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," you croak back.

"Here," he says, turning over to your nightstand and grabbing a glass of water. "I got up to pee in the middle of the night and figured you might need this."

You take the glass and sip gingerly. "Thanks," you say, handing it back and setting your head back down on the pillow. Gravity feels like a lot right now.

"Do...do you want me to get going now that you're awake?" he asks hesitantly, jutting his thumb toward your bedroom door.

You sigh, reaching up to tame some of his hair. "No. I don't...What you said last night was shitty, Eddie. Really shitty..."

"I know, God, Y/N, I know how bad I messed up..." he begins and covering his face with his hands.

"Let me finish," you reply, pulling his hands away from his face. "But, you came to make it right. After what Stacy told you...that took guts to face me. And I understand why you came to the conclusions you did, however wrong they were. And I'm sorry that I randomly brought up the sex stuff at the party where we clearly didn't have time to talk about it privately...ever since our last conversation at the library I started panicking..."

"Are you kidding?" He says grabbing into your hands. "You have nothing to apologize for. Now that I know everything, I get why you weren't letting anyone in, why the idea of a relationship that would lead to sex freaked you out. I just wish you would've told me sooner..."

"Eddie, we just started dating a couple of weeks ago. I didn't think it was a good idea to be like, 'Yeah let's date. I really like kissing you. Oh by the way, I was raped so I'm kind of a mess when it comes to intimacy.' That's a lot of baggage to just unload."

You see him wince again. The idea that someone could do that to you--to anyone--was deeply unsettling to him. "Sweetheart," he whispers, tilting you chin up so that your lips are inches apart. "I get it. But from here on out, I wanna know all of it. Every single bag," he smiles. "If you'll still have me, that is."