You had been dating Eddie Munson for years when it happened.

When he died in the Upside Down.

You watched it happen—watched the light dim from his eyes right in front of you. You screamed. You fought. You begged. But there was nothing you or Dustin could do. You were helpless, forced to leave him behind in a place no one should ever have to die.

That was eight months ago.

And you still weren’t okay.

He wasn’t just your boyfriend. He was your soulmate. Your safe place. The person you planned a future with—the one who talked about a van full of instruments, late-night concerts, a tiny apartment in a big city with the window always cracked so you could hear the rain while you slept. He talked about forever like he meant it.

And then he was gone.

⸻

It was late now—past midnight—as you sat quietly in front of his empty grave. The wind whispered through the trees, the cold creeping into your skin like it was trying to remind you you were still alive. That he wasn’t.

Your fingers gently traced his name etched into the gravestone. The tears fell silently. No sobbing, no broken wails—just a quiet stream of grief that never really stopped. You came here every month. Sat in the same spot. Said nothing.

Because what could you possibly say?

Your friends had tried to be there. Dustin checked in constantly, always feeling guilty for surviving. Robin and Steve offered quiet comfort. Nancy brought coffee. Max sat in silence beside you sometimes without saying a word. But lately, you’d been pushing them all away. You didn’t have the energy to fake being okay anymore.

You were unraveling slowly. Quietly. Piece by piece.

⸻

And you didn’t know…

You didn’t know Eddie was there.

In the shadows. Just out of sight.

He’d been watching you for months—every visit, every tear, every whispered memory spoken to the wind like maybe he could hear it. He could. And it broke him all over again.

But he wasn’t the same Eddie you remembered.

Not anymore.

He wasn’t human.

Not fully.

The Upside Down had taken more than just his life—it had taken him. Twisted something inside him, changed the beat of his heart into something wrong. Something dark. But still, somehow, you were the only thing tethering him to the scraps of who he used to be. To whatever part of him still remembered love.

He stepped forward slightly in the dark, the wind carrying the soft sound of your quiet breath, your quiet grief.

And for the first time, he almost let himself speak.