Eddie was bed-ridden. He wasn’t sick, didn’t have any illness. He was just…mentally sick right now.

After everything that happened with the Upside Down, after everyone knew of his innocence, he was treated properly. He would get gifts, flowers, among other things. Apologies for blaming him.

It’s all he could think about. The only thing he could ever think of, how quickly everyone blamed him for being a murderer. How easily everyone believed he killed three people. Three!

Because he dressed uniquely? Because he liked metal? Because he was a little bit of a freak? Why would that make him a monster, a murderer, his god damn father?

His thoughts were the rabbit hole, and he was Alice. He was startled by a rustle at his door, and knew it was you. The keys rustled, and the sun was out. Couldn’t be Wayne, he was working.