#adamwrites

Joyce watches happily as everyone eats the food she had spent all day preparing. The younger ones were deep in a conversation about the arcade’s new game, while the older ones were focused more on the food than conversation…

Well, all except one.

Joyce frowns. Eddie is staring at his plate, eyebrows knit together in worry. Joyce had fixed everybody’s plate the same- pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans, and dinner rolls. She’d asked beforehand about dietary restrictions, hadn’t she?

“Eddie, honey, could you help me with something in the kitchen?”

Eddie looks worriedly at her, then at Steve, then back at her. “Oh- um, sure.”

Eddie follows Joyce into the kitchen. She looks at him, her face worried. “Is everything okay? Why aren’t you eating?”

His face goes bright red. God, why couldn’t he have just choked down a dinner roll? “I-I’m sure the food’s great, I just can’t eat any of it.” Joyce goes to speak, but Eddie beats her there. “Will told you I have autism, didn’t he?”

“What? No, he never even mentioned it.”

“Oh… I have problems with most foods. The textures of them, the tastes, the smells. I can’t eat much of anything.” Eddie sighs sadly, “I’m sorry, Joyce. I know you worked so hard.”

“Honey,” Joyce says, “It’s okay. Hopper will eat your plate- we need to fatten him back up anyway. What do you eat, hun? Is there anything here that would work?”

Sheepishly, Eddie shakes his head. “No… don’t- don’t cook something extra for me.”

“I’m not sitting back down until you tell me what you want to eat.”

A few moments later, Eddie and Joyce come back into the dining room- Eddie with a plate in hand. He returns to his seat next to Steve before he passes his old plate over to Hopper. Steve smiles a little, noticing Eddie’s new dinner. “Peanut butter sandwich?”

“With the crusts cut off,” Eddie says.

Post-Vecna, Steve and Eddie found themselves unable to see Dustin as much as they’d like.

So, they planned random things to do together. Sometimes they go grocery shopping, sometimes they get ice cream… sometimes they even go to the bookstore.

Eddie loves the bookstore.

“Keep flapping like that, you’re gonna fly away,” Steve laughs, following Dustin and Eddie to the DnD section of the store. Little figures are lined up one by one, ready to be bought. Beautiful dice sets are packaged right next to the maps. To Eddie, it’s mesmerizing.

“Dustin, Dustin, look!” Eddie exclaims, his fists now hitting his chest with vigor. The most beautiful set of dice he’s ever seen lay in front of him. Crimson red and black colors combined to make a color scheme just perfect for Eddie’s collection.

Dustin grabs Eddie’s arm and pulls it off his chest. “I’m looking, I’m looking, dude, but why the hell are you hitting yourself?”

And that’s why Eddie prefers Dustin to the others. No dancing around the question he actually wants to ask, no ill intentions behind his curiosity.

Eddie thinks for a moment. “You know I have autism, right?” Dustin nods. “Sometimes I get way too excited and I can’t hold in my feelings, so I start swinging or hitting or yelling.”

“And,” Steve interjects, “Sometimes that means hitting yourself way too hard.”

“So,” Dustin flaps his hand as Eddie had done earlier. “Like… Like that?”

“Yeah.”

Dustin smiles, and flaps both hands. “Hey, I guess this does feel pretty good.” Still stimming, he says, “You know, I think you do good at expressing emotions, Eddie. Different isn’t bad.”

“Edward Munson, I said put them away.”

“But I-”

“Put them away!”

Eddie sighs sadly as he takes off his headphones. The class is really loud today, and he couldn’t concentrate. Too bad Mrs. O’Donnell didn’t really care about his ability to pay attention.

Eddie’s eyes look anxiously around the room as he hears what has to be thousands of sounds. The chalk on the chalkboard, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, the whispers about his pleading with the teacher… it all comes crashing down on his senses.

So, he doodles. He takes out a piece of paper and begins doodling instead of jotting down notes. It didn’t matter- he’s taken this class twice already. He’s halfway into his drawing of ‘Eddie the Brave’ before the paper is snatched off of his desk.

Mrs. O’Donnell balls up the paper before tossing it into the trash. “What did I tell you about paying attention in my class?” she asks rudely, eyes wide with rage.

Eddie breaks eye contact, choosing to look at his feet instead. “My Uncle told Principal Higgins that drawing helps me concentrate. Higgins was supposed to tell you.”

“I can’t possibly see how doodling away useless nonsense about fairytales helps you concentrate! Whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and I’m positive I’ll be seeing you in my class again next year!”

Eddie’s hands clench, and his eyebrows knit together. “Well maybe if I could sit in this fucking class for longer than five goddamn minutes before you start targeting me, I could actually fucking pay attention.”

“Edward Munson, Principal’s Higgins’ office now!”

Eddie grabs his book bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Thank God! Maybe they’ll fucking suspend me and I won’t have to see your wrinkly, fucked up face for a week or two.”

Eddie pushes open the door to the Higgins’ office, and slings his back into the floor. “You know the number by now, Higgins. Please, humor my uncle and tell him that he needs to come all the way down here because I cussed out a teacher.”

Half an hour later, Eddie finds himself sitting next to his uncle in the principal’s office.

“Suspended for four days… won’t tolerate this type of behavior… unacceptable attitude…” is all Eddie really retains. Uncle Wayne sits in silence until the principal is done with his spiel. Then, he says, “None of you at this school know nothing about autism, do ya?”

“Sir, autistic or not-”

“My boy needs those headphones and those drawings to even think about learning, and you’re rippin’ ‘em out of his hands and expecting him to learn? You’ve lost your goddamn minds! I had to take off work to listen to a grown ass adult bully my nephew! This is ridiculous!”

Wayne grabs Eddie, and leaves, ignoring whatever Principal Higgins is saying in response. Eddie grabs his headphones, and pulls them over his ears. “So…” he says quietly, buckling his seatbelt, “Ice cream?”

“Son,” Wayne sighs sadly, “I’m sorry. I’d pull you out of this school in a heartbeat if I could.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’m survived this long. It’s okay, old man, really.”

“Well, you’re not in trouble in my book. I think you deserve some damn ice cream. What do you say?”

Eddie smiles, looking at his uncle in admiration. “Chocolate?

It started at the grocery store.

Per usual, Eddie is upset, overstimulated, and nonverbal.

Steve’s usually good at understanding what Eddie needs when he’s nonverbal, but he couldn’t be more confused today. He kept throwing comfort foods in the cart while hitting his chest. One minute, he’s teary eyed, the next, he’s back to hitting.

Steve stops Eddie from throwing another pack of Oreos into the cart. “Eddie, baby, go out to the car. I can finish in here.” Eddie lets out a grumbly whine, but he doesn’t fight Steve on this. Steve presses a kiss to his cheek. “Try to recharge a little. I’ll be out in a minute.”

At home, Eddie had explained that he had been overstimulated from the lights and the beeping at the register, and all he really had needed was a tight hug to calm him down.

So, that’s why Steve is in the break room at the video store writing feverishly on flashcards. Robin walks into the break room, it’s a slow day, after all. “Aren’t you done with school, Harrington?”

“They’re not for me,” Steve responds, not looking up, “They’re for Eds.”

“Oh.” Robin looks through the cards. “You know, I can help, if you want. I know what it’s like to go nonverbal.”

“What kind of cards should I write?” Steve pushes the growing pile towards her. “I have emotions, stim toys, response cards…”

“You need some for food and drink. Nancy can never tell what I want to eat when I go nonverbal. I’d keep it limited to comfort foods.”

So, that’s what Steve does.

“Eddie, I have a surprise.”

Eddie looks up from his desk. “Oh, yeah?”

A six inch tall stack of notecards in placed beside him. “What am I looking at? I know my chemistry grades are slipping, but my God, I don’t think I need to do this much studying-”

“They’re communication cards.”

Eddie pauses.

“Oh.”

He flips through them carefully.

“They’re organized by food, needs, wants, stim toys, emotions, responses…”

Eddie smiles. He flips through all the way to the response section of the notecards. He thumbs through them, until pulling out a card that reads two simple words-

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Steve winces. “Doesn’t that hurt you two?”

Robin smacks the palms of her hands into Eddie’s. “Nope.”

“Feels good,” Eddie says, continuing their stimming.

Robin and Eddie smack each other’s hands together, laughing as they do so. Then, Eddie runs over to Robin’s stim toy collection. Robin’s room is awesome- she has so many fidgets. “Can I use your Play-Doh?”

“Sure, but don’t you dare mix my colors together. One at a time.”

Eddie grabs the yellow clay, and begins making snakes with his hands. The texture, the smell, the sights? Chef’s kiss. “Robin, make snakes with me. Get the green Play-Doh.”

Steve tosses Robin the green canister. “Can I make snakes too?”

uhh tw dysphoria, period

Eddie really, really hates the upside down.

Steve and Robin are working for the day, so Nancy had decided to carry Eddie and herself to visit them. Usually, Eddie doesn’t have a problem with Nancy, but right now, she won’t stop talking about the upside down. Nancy isn’t picking up on Eddie’s distress- she’s more focused on driving.

Nancy, oblivious to Eddie, continues, “The whole thing… I still get nightmares about it. I mean, we all could’ve died. Me, you, Robin, Steve…”

Gnawing on his fingers now, Eddie tries to block her out. He wants to tell her to stop talking, but isn’t that rude? He’s not sure. The more she talks, the more aggressively he’s biting.

Steve had told him to carry his chewie around with him, but Eddie didn’t today. Nancy had seen Eddie’s chewie once, and immediately launched into a tangent about how unsanitary it was.

Nancy doesn’t realize until they’re in the parking lot of the video store. Eddie’s fingers are dripping blood all over his jeans. “Woah, Eddie, what the hell?”

“I-I don’t-I don’t know-”

“How can I help?”

“I- um- Steve lets me chew on his hands when I get like this.”

Nancy’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Ew,” she says, “Let’s go get Steve then, because I’m not doing that. That’s so gross. It’s flu season, Eddie.”

Eddie wants to tell her that he’s well aware how gross and unsanitary it is, that she should just shut up because she could never understand what it’s like.

Instead, he leaves the car and runs to find Steve.

Steve is busy rewinding a tape when he hears the door loudly swing open. He looks up, expecting another obnoxious pre teen trying to sneak an X rated movie, but it’s only Eddie. “Hey, baby, give me one second-“ His eyes widen. “Is that blood?” He abandons the tape, then runs over to tidy Eddie’s hands. “What did I tell you about this? I said to keep your chew necklace on you.”

Then, Nancy walks in, and Steve puts two and two together. “Oh… Let’s go to the back, Eds. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Steve grabs the first aid kit that the shop keeps for the employees, and rummages through it. Bandaids, gauze, disinfectant… that should work. Quickly, he washes his hands before starting. He examines Eddie’s hands- it’s mostly his fingers that he had torn up.

“Am I gross?” Eddie asks quietly.

“What?”

“Am I gross?”

Steve sighs as he begins wrapping Eddie’s fingers. “Did Nancy say something? I’m sorry, you know she’s still getting used to all of this.” The look on Eddie’s face tells him what he needs to know. “You’re not gross, Eddie. Your brain is different, and sometimes you cope differently because of it. No big deal.”

Eddie doesn’t really believe him, but he nods anyway. “She was talking about the Upside Down, and I got upset.”

“You’re safe now, Eddie,” Steve says, offering his hand to Eddie. “Do you need to chew?”

“I need to chew.”

Steve is proud of Eddie for recognizing the need, so he smiles a little. “Okay.” He puts his hand to Eddie’s lips. “Gentle.”

Eddie softly chews on Steve’s fingers. It calms him- makes the bad thoughts melt away. No more Upside Down, no more fear- he’s safe.

let me start off this fic by saying

1) this is non sexual age regression

2) it is a therapy approved coping mechanism

3) if you don’t like it, leave.

Sometimes Eddie is… different.

Sure, Eddie has his quirks every day, but some nights, there were different things Steve picked up on.

When Eddie felt any big emotions, he’d begin to suck on his fingers. It usually ended with him falling asleep in Steve’s lap. Even if he did manage to stay awake, he doesn’t talk much. His speech would become mostly babbling or one sentence replies.

But… the thing that stuck out the most is his teddy bear.

If they were alone and Eddie felt overwhelmed, upset, or anything too strong for him to handle, he’d carry around his teddy bear.

Teddy’s an old, raggedy stuffed animal. His fur is missing in patches, his eyes are scratched too. Eddie slept with him most nights, but he only carried it around with him around the house if something was particularly bothering him.

And tonight, something wasn’t right.

Steve’s off work late tonight. Eddie’s at home- most likely planning a campaign or listening to music. Steve hopes he’d be asleep by now, but it was wishful thinking at this point. Eddie isn’t sleeping well, especially when he’s alone.

Sighing, Steve opens the door to the trailer. He almost jumps out of his skin at what he finds.

Eddie’s standing in the middle of the living room, Teddy clutched to his chest. Tears fall from those big brown eyes that are staring at the ceiling in terror. He’s trembling.

“Eddie?” Steve asks softly. “Baby, what’s the matter?” He’s not even sure why he asks- he knows what the problem is. Eddie would get fixated on the ceiling where the portal to the upside down had been.

Eddie shakes his head rapidly. He can’t talk about it, he can’t. He can’t even think about it. He opens his mouth, trying to say something- anything. He wants Steve to hold him, he wants to stop hearing the sound of Chrissy’s bones cracking, he wants to go to sleep.

Instead, he cries.

Bursting into tears, Eddie crumples into a ball on the floor. Hands covering his ears, he almost doesn’t hear Steve calling his name.

Thankfully, Steve is pretty strong. He lifts Eddie up and over his shoulder. He gently pats his back as he walks to their room. He hates that Eddie still has to live at the site of his trauma, but they can’t afford anything else.

“Alright,” Steve says softly, setting Eddie down on the bed. “I’m going to change into some pajamas, but I’m not leaving, okay?”

“No!” Eddie cries, grabbing onto Steve’s work uniform. “Stay! Stay!”

“Eddie, I’m just going across the room.” Steve walks off to Eddie’s dresser. Unsurprisingly, Eddie follows him. “Eds, I want you to lay down. You’re worked up enough as it is.”

“No.”

Steve sighs sympathetically. He pulls on his pajamas, then guides Eddie back to his bed. He tucks them both in, careful not to let Eddie’s bear fall into the floor. He leaves a lamp on. Eddie doesn’t like the dark- not anymore.

“Bad night?”

Eddie shakes his head rapidly. “No talking about it, please.”

“Okay.”

Steve needs to find a way to make this better. He untucks Eddie, and places him into his lap instead. Maybe, just maybe, Eddie needs something more tender.

Slowly, Steve begins to rock them back and forth. He hums a soft lullaby, stroking Eddie’s cheek with his thumb as he does so. Eddie’s thumb finds it’s way up to his mouth. Suckling on his fingers now, he seems more peaceful.

Teddy in lap, Eddie is happy. He drifts off to sleep in Steve’s arms, but that didn’t mean Steve was going to stop.

He rocks him for hours. He could do this forever. Watching Eddie sleep so peacefully is his own way of winding down. He doesn’t stop humming the lullaby until his throat gets sore. Gently, he takes Eddie’s fingers from out of his mouth. He pulls the blankets over the both of them- and Teddy.