TWO PROTECT FROM HARM

💀

       INDIA HAD DROPPED WILL AND ESME off and then drove home. Esme had stayed with Will until he was inside his house (said hi to Joyce, his mom) and then walked the short way over to the Munsons. They lived in a one-story house with their father, an alcoholic, who couldn't take care of his children, not after their mother, his wife, had left them and he started blaming them for it. Instead, they had to take care of him, like no child ever should. And Esme thought that wasn't fair at all...

       She stood in front of the door, her hand curled into a fist, knocked three times — then she waited.

       She hoped they were OK, that nothing bad happened with their father, or at least nothing worse than what they had to endure every day anyway. (Although she wished that they wouldn't have to go through that either.) The only thing she knew, right now, was that Eddie had lied to her when Tatum and she had called him from school, and that made her worry.

       The door opened, and Eddie Munson, in all his metalhead, long-haired, jewelry-clad glory, stood before her, looking down at her with a confused expression. Esme smiled at him, shily. Yes, she knew him, but not as well as Vinnie — Eddie was her best friend's brother.

       "Hi," she said, giving him a small wave. "I just ... wanted to check up on Vinnie. And— and you, too."

       A small grin formed on Eddie's lips — but not a malicious one, like she was used to, no, one that showed her that he appreciated what she did. "You don't give up easily, do you?"

       Esme pressed her lips together, shaking her head. "Not really." Not when it came to the people she cared about.

       Eddie stepped aside to let her in. And upon entering, the first thing Esme noticed was that the house was a mess. And not in the sense that they had just forgotten to clean up, but in the sense that someone had wrecked the room in a fit of anger, rage. Books and music cassettes and decorations littered the floor, things that used to stand on the shelves along the walls. She even spotted shards of glass strewn across the ground. Esme swallowed. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. She turned to Eddie who watched her take in the scene.

       "Comfortable, right?" Eddie said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

       "What happened here?" she asked, quiet.

       Eddie averted his gaze, looking anywhere but at her — her glistening pitch-black eyes could be piercing, and she was capable of copying the judgemental look her big sister had perfected. She wanted him to tell her what had gone down, though it was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. But she wouldn't just ignore this, she couldn't. This was... It was bad. Really bad.

       "Eddie—"

       "Esme?"

       Esme whirled around to the voice that had spoken, her gaze falling on her best friend, Vincent Munson, nicknamed Vinnie by his friends. His curly hair was a mess, as usual, his posture was slumped, and he seemed tired, but what caught her off-guard was the pack of frozen peas he held against his left eye. Her breath hitched, instantly knowing what had happened, that that was not an accident. She wanted nothing more than to rush over to him and inspect his face, making sure he was OK, but she couldn't — she couldn't touch him.

       "What are you doing here?" Vinnie asked, his words rapid, like he didn't want her here. He probably didn't want her to see him like this, to see what had happened. Then his eyes fell to her shirt, well, Tatum's shirt: "And what are you wearing?"

       She looked down at herself, at the dragons printed onto the black fabric. "It's Tatum's; long story. What happened to your eye?" she retaliated. He didn't answer. Esme took a step toward him. "Was that your father?" She had a sense of urgency in her voice.

       "Look, it's not a big deal, alright?" Vinnie forced a grin onto his lips, then lifted the peas from his eye so she could take a look at it. "It's barely even a bruise. Getting a baseball in the face would be worse." He shrugged his shoulders, a half-assed chuckle falling from his lips.

       Was he serious right now?

       Esme huffed. "Don't do that."

       "Do what?"

       "Pretend like it's nothing, like it's ... funny — it's not."

       Esme stared at him. Vinnie stared at her. Then he scoffed and left the room. But Esme wouldn't leave just yet. Vinnie needed her right now, even if he won't admit that. She ignored the nagging thought in her head telling her that this whole situation was none of her business and that she should just let them handle this. But she couldn't do that, not when her best friend was hurting.

       She followed him into the kitchen, Eddie right behind her. Vinnie had sat down at the dinner table right in front of the kitchen. He avoided eye contact with her. She sat down across from him.

       "Vinnie..." She wasn't sure what to say, how to make him see that this was not OK, that it was anything but. His father had hit him, hurt him, and Esme couldn't help but wonder if something like this had happened before or if this was the first time — then she thought, that doesn't matter! His father had hit him, had gotten violent toward his own son, and Vinnie didn't deserve this. Eddie didn't deserve this. This shouldn't be happening.

       "Don't look at me like that," Vinnie said when she didn't continue.

       "Like what?" she questioned. "Like I'm worried?"

       "Like you pity me," he countered.

       Esme furrowed her brows, confused. "I don't pity you, Vinnie. I just ... can't believe this is happening."

       "Look, it was on me, alright? We just got into a fight and he got angry... I should've known when to stop arguing—"

       "Don't you dare say this is your fault, Vince," Eddie cut him off, pinning his little brother with a determined stare, his gaze only a couple notches down from piercing. "That's on him." He gestured in the direction of their father's bedroom. "Not you." He pointed his finger at Vinnie.

       "It's never happened before, and he won't do it again, you know that—!"

       "No, I don't know that!" Eddie argued, his voice rising in volume.

       Vinnie scoffed, rolling his eyes.

       Esme could see that he was getting irritated, that Eddie really got on his nerves right now. And that wouldn't help anyone. So, she leaned forward a little bit and reached for his (sleeve-covered) arm, touching it lightly with her fingertips. That alone took Vinnie by surprise and the irritation in his eyes dissipated. "Vinnie," she started, "Eddie's worried about you, just like I am. This is not OK. Even if it won't happen again, it happened once. And that's enough in my books."

       "Yeah, well, this is none of your business," Vinnie spat, pulling his arm away from her.

       Esme's heart sank. The words slapped her in the face. She breathed in, trying not to take it too personally because this was a sensitive situation and, maybe, hopefully, he didn't mean what he said. But it hurt. It really hurt.

       Did she overstep her boundaries? Should she just leave and let them figure out what to do? Should she just let Eddie try to tell Vinnie that what their father did was not OK? Maybe she should do that. Maybe she should leave them alone. But she was worried, and she wanted to make sure Vinnie was OK, and safe, and the same went for Eddie too. She just wanted to be there for them, be a good friend.

       "Wow, Vince, what the hell?!" Eddie stood next to Esme, a hand hovering over her upper arm (not touching her, though — he must have picked up on the fact that she didn't like that), almost protective. She was a little bit taken aback by the fact that he was standing up for her, to be honest. "She's here because she wants to help you, don't be an ass!"

       "It's— It's OK. Maybe I should just go..." Esme wanted to stand up and leave since Vinnie obviously didn't want her here, but before she could, Vinnie stopped her.

       "I'm sorry." He sighed, looking at her, before he turned his gaze to the table, unable to make eye contact with her. "That ... wasn't fair, I didn't mean it."

       For a few seconds, she stayed silent. She could see that he meant what he said, that he really was sorry, but, still, his words stung. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she nodded. "It's fine."

       Eddie patted his little brother's shoulder, a proud grin on his lips. "Good boy." Vinnie pushed his hand away, playfully rolling his eyes at him. Eddie snickered.

       Esme smiled at the sight of them, of the way they could still joke around — at least a little bit — in a situation like this. Having a sibling as support was something very special; it meant you would never be alone, no matter where you were, you would always have someone to rely on. And especially now, with a father like theirs, that was essential.

       On the other hand, though, they couldn't just keep doing this, not anymore. It was no longer safe, for either of them. Her smile vanished. "You can't go on like this, guys," she said softly, glancing between the brothers. They looked at her. "You're missing school because of him—"

       "School is really the last thing I'm worried about now, Esme," Vinnie said.

       She narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, you should be. It's important for your future."

       "She's right," Eddie said. "You have to go to school, man."

       Esme eyed him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not just talking about Vinnie."

       Eddie paused, surprised. Then he pointed a ring-clad finger at his own chest. "... Me?"

       "Yes, you. Both of you. You can't throw away your lives for a man that—" She stopped herself. For a man that doesn't care, she wanted to say, but that seemed to be a little bit harsh. "For— for a man like him," she finished, struggling to find the right words.

       Eddie dragged a hand over his face, leaning against the kitchen counter. Vinnie rubbed his eyes— well, eye, since the other one was swollen and he was still cooling it with the frozen peas. Esme observed them, the desperation on their faces, the sadness and hopelessness in their eyes. The scene tugged at her heartstrings. They shouldn't have to deal with something like this. They were just kids, the only thing they should be worrying about was school, and relationships, and friends... Not ... this.

       A rumbling sounded from another room, and they all snapped their heads in the direction.

       "Is he awake?" Esme asked, a lump in her throat. She did not want to meet that man today, or ever.

       "Definitely not. He's gonna be passed out for the next couple hours," Vinnie said, scoffing.

       "He probably just fell out of bed." Eddie shrugged.

       "Oh..." Esme didn't know what to say.

       "Maybe you should go home," Vinnie then said after a moment of silence. Esme looked at him, frowning. "I mean... I don't want you to be here when he wakes up."

       Esme just kept looking at him. She could see the concern on his face, the lines of worry on his forehead. Yes, she didn't want to leave them alone with their father, but it wasn't like she could do anything, not in this instant, anyway. So, she nodded. "OK." She stood up from the table. Vinnie's eyes followed her every movement, surprised that she agreed that easily.

       "Be careful, though," Esme said. "And call me if you need anything." She looked from Vinnie to Eddie. "Both of you."

       They nodded. Vinnie smiled at her, "'Course."

       She smiled as well and then turned to leave the house, ready to walk home. But before she could leave the house, Vinnie's voice called after her, "Wait!" Esme turned around to see Vinnie jogging toward her. He had stopped cooling his eye, the frozen peas laying on the table in the kitchen. And now, Esme could see that his eye had swollen shut completely, and a bruise was already beginning to form. "Do you have a ride?" he asked.

       "... Uh, no," she admitted. "I was gonna walk—"

       "Yeah, no chance," Vinnie cut her off.

       Eddie came up to them, twirling his car keys around his index finger. "I'll drive you. Since Vince here" — he threw an arm around Vinnie's shoulder — "can't see shit." Vinnie rolled his eyes at his brother. Esme chuckled lightly. Eddie then dropped his arm again and walked to the front door, turning around to Esme once more, "Come on."

       Esme waved at Vinnie and followed Eddie to his truck.

💀

       ESME WAS BROWSING THROUGH EDDIE'S music tapes and, she had to admit, she barely knew any of the artists or albums. Iron Maiden, Metallica (that one sounded vaguely familiar), Motorhead, Kiss, and many more that Esme had never heard of before. Eddie was casting glances at her every now and then, an amused expression on her face as he noticed her confusion.

       "You don't know any of them, huh?" he asked, but there was no judgment in his tone. He didn't seem to be surprised either, though.

       She lifted her head, looking at him. "Not really."

       "Can't say I'm surprised."

       Esme shook her head, rolling her eyes in a playful manner before she turned her attention back to the music tapes. He had asked her to choose one when they got into his truck and left, but it was impossible for her to do that when she had no idea what any of these bands (she guessed they were bands?) sounded like. "What's your favorite?" she asked Eddie.

       Eddie drove around a corner, then answered. "Black Sabbath."

       "Black Sabbath..." Esme mumbled while rifling through the many tapes, looking for Black Sabbath, whatever that was... She found it, triumphantly holding it up for Eddie to see. He grinned at her. Then she put the cassette into the car stereo and pressed play. The band started playing; the music was aggressive, and exactly what she understood under the word metal. And even though it wasn't something she would listen to on a regular basis, she had to admit it wasn't bad. There was something about it that she liked, surprisingly.

       Eddie watched her, how she bobbed her head to the rhythm, the small smile on her lips. It made him smile, too, seeing that she didn't hate it. "So... What do you think?" he asked. "Too loud?"

       "No, no," she immediately said, "I like it, it's good."

       "Really?"

       "Yes." She laughed. "I mean, maybe I won't listen to it on my own, but I like it."

       Eddie nodded, grinning, his long curls bouncing with the movement of his head. "I'll take that."

       "Sounds like something my little sister would love."

       "She has good taste then," Eddie replied, making her chuckle.

       Esme leaned back in her seat, and, out of habit, pulled the sleeves of her jacket over her hands. It was getting dark outside, and she was glad she didn't have to walk. She didn't like admitting it, but the darkness still scared her. She knew of the monsters that existed, just waiting in the shadows for someone careless to come along, preying on the innocent souls that had no idea what strange things existed out there... And she knew not to push her luck.

       She looked away from the window and into her lap, growing uncomfortable. Her mind was already making up scenarios about beasts lurking in the dark, and she'd rather stare at her lap for hours than see any silhouettes that weren't even really there, that were just a figment of her imagination.

       Her thoughts went back to Vinnie, and his swollen eye, and the helpless look in his eyes. How he tried to cover up his pain with humor and played it down like it was nothing. How he still defended his father...

       "Eddie," Esme started and looked up at him. He glanced at her for a moment, having heard the solemn tone in her voice, before focusing on the road in front of him again. "You have to do something about your father. ... You can't live like this. With him. Not anymore."

       Eddie sighed, rubbing his forehead, his hands shaking slightly. "I know..."

       His voice was quiet but laced with emotion, Esme could hear that. He had so much responsibility to carry, so many burdens weighing down on his shoulders, and he didn't deserve that. Esme was sorry that he had to carry this, that he had to see his little brother be beaten by his father.

       "You have to get away from him," Esme said. "Is there... Is there somewhere you can stay? A— A family member, or a friend—"

       "We have an uncle," he said, interrupting her.

       Esme furrowed her brows. "You do?" Vinnie never told her about an uncle. Eddie nodded. "Where?"

       "Here. In Hawkins. ... He lives in the trailer park."

       Esme sat up straighter, a new sense of excitement coursing through her veins. "Can— Can you talk to him?"

       Eddie shrugged his shoulders. "I can try. Maybe we can ... stay with him until we can afford something ourselves."

       A small smile tugged at her lips as she looked at him. She could see that there was a glimmer of hope in his expression, something that hadn't been there before. She nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

       He grinned at her.

       The rest of the drive went by mostly in silence. They just listened to Black Sabbath or talked about something trivial. And, in all honesty, for the first time that day, she felt comfortable. There was no one looking at her like she was a waste of space, like she was someone they didn't want to share the same air with, like she didn't belong. There was no one calling her a witch or a freak. And there were no judgmental looks directed at her from her sister... She was just Esme. Talking to a friend.

       He parked the car in front of her home, looking at the two-story house with a light red facade and many illuminated windows. The porch light flashed on, registering the car's movement close to the entrance.

       "Thanks for taking me home," she said, a soft smile on her lips, before she got out of his truck.

       Eddie reciprocated the smile. "No biggie."

       She was about to walk up to her front door, but there was one more thing she had to say, so she turned around to Eddie, who rolled down the window when he noticed that she wanted to talk to him.

       "What's up, Deverell? Miss me already?" His lips stretched into a teasing smirk.

       Esme rolled her eyes at his comment, amused, but didn't respond to it. "Just... If you need anything, any help, a place to stay, whatever — call me. I'm serious."

       Eddie smiled at her, then saluted her nonchalantly. "Duly noted."

       And with that, Esme entered her house, and Eddie drove off into the night, back to his little brother, back to his abusive drunk father, back to his broken home.

       She couldn't think about that for long though, because as soon as she was inside, she could hear the voices of Anita and their mother, fighting. Esme sighed, not surprised by that. It was probably about the fact that Anita had earned herself a full week of detention — once again. Anita often got into trouble in school, so these arguments were a daily occurrence. And today, Esme couldn't bring herself to care.

       After she took off her shoes and jacket, she simply walked past them, ignoring them, and went up the stairs, into her room, collapsing onto her bed. Her hair fell around her like a halo, and her arms and legs were spread out like a starfish.

       Today was ... a lot.

       First, she was humiliated in front of the whole school, and India, thinking she was helping her, cursed that basketball player, torturing him with his greatest fear, his worst nightmare. And everyone thought Esme was the one that did it, just giving everyone more reason to see her as different, giving them more fuel for their hatred toward her...

       And then she found out that her best friend went through something that no one should ever have to go through. She still couldn't believe that his father had hit Vinnie, that that had actually happened. She wished she could do something, help them somehow, but there wasn't really anything she could do. It was in their hands, in Vinnie and Eddie's. And, sure, Eddie had a plan on how to get out of this situation, but that didn't stop her from worrying — even if their uncle would take them in, there were still things that could go wrong, law-related things... That could drag things out for a long time.

       Esme groaned, rolling onto her side. Life was hard. Life was horrible. She forced herself out of bed to change into a more comfortable shirt and put on a fluffy cardigan to cuddle into. Then she turned on some music and took out her homework — that would distract her, it always did. She sat down at her desk and started with math...

💀

       THERE WAS SOMETHING CALMING about solving equations and calculations and mathematical problems. There were rules and specific methods and, using these rules and methods in the right way, you receive the correct result. There was no room for doubts or insecurities because every problem could be solved — no exceptions. That was what Esme loved about math. There was always a solution you could reach by applying logic and following the rules. Not like real life, where everything consisted of what-ifs and would've, could've, should've. There was not one specific formula to solve life. And that was exactly what made it so difficult.

       She had completed all her homework in the last hour, but, because her thoughts wouldn't stop spinning, she decided to study some of the future topics they would cover in math. It helped. It stopped her from thinking about the incident in the cafeteria and from worrying about Vinnie and Eddie.

       A knock on the door interrupted her concentration. She said "Come in" while she put her pen into her math book and closed it, placed it on top of her college block, and moved both into the top right corner of her desk. (She liked it neat.)

       Her father, Usher Deverell, entered the room, a tired smile on his face. "Hey, you," he said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. He didn't attempt to hug her or kiss her head because, as you probably know by now, she couldn't touch anyone without showing them their worst fears — and her dad knew about that.

       Esme furrowed her brows. "You're home early."

       "There wasn't much to do at work today," he replied, but there was something in his voice that she couldn't identify.

       Usher Deverell was a doctor working at Hawkins Lab. She didn't know exactly what his job there was; he never talked about it. His study was always locked, and he treated his work as if it was some big dark secret that he couldn't reveal at all costs — she thought that was just his weird sense of humor. Esme usually didn't mind that, but sometimes she thought about the fact that, when she and her sisters were found after they had been missing, he insisted on taking them to the lab for check-ups instead of the hospital, like they were more capable of figuring out what had happened to them, what had changed their skin and her eyes.

       It was at one of those check-ups that they first noticed that there was something strange about their touch, that it affected people.

       At first, it didn't show someone their worst fears — the person who would touch them would only feel a sense of unease, like there was something fundamentally wrong with them. Over time, though, the effects got stronger, they developed, until you would see your worst nightmares come to life at the slightest brush against their skin.

       Her dad had tried to figure out what was wrong with them, and what could have possibly caused this change. But these check-ups never led anywhere, they couldn't figure it out, so they gave up on it, and the weekly visits to the lab stopped. Which she was glad about. Because the doctor that treated them along with their dad, an old man with ice-white hair, Usher's colleague, made Esme feel uncomfortable. He had always looked at them like they were some kind of lab rats, not kids who had gone through something horrible.

       "How was school?" her dad asked.

       Esme shrugged her shoulders. "You know, hell." She didn't laugh, it wasn't a joke; it did feel like hell, especially today.

       Lines of worry formed on her dad's forehead; he immediately knew something was wrong. "What happened?"

       She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it.

       But her dad wouldn't just leave it. "Esme," he pressed on.

       She huffed. "Some jock decided to embarrass me... In front of the whole school."

       "How?"

       "He pushed me, in the cafeteria, and my food spilled all over my clothes." That gnawing feeling in her stomach returned. She looked at her lap and started nervously plucking at a thread from her cardigan. "Everyone laughed," she breathed out. "And I couldn't do anything. I was frozen." She chuckled bitterly. "India ... stopped him."

       She wasn't sure why she didn't tell him about how India had stopped him, but she had a feeling that that would only alarm him. That India didn't even need to touch someone anymore to show them their worst fear was new, and Usher would definitely want to talk about it with her. And she guessed there was a reason why India hadn't told anyone about this, so Esme decided to respect that.

       Her dad sighed before patting the place beside him on the bed. She stood up from her chair and plopped down next to him.

       "High school isn't forever, even if it might feel that way," Usher said. "In fact, it'll be over before you know it, and then the years just keep passing by and then you're 39 and trying to convince your wife to not throw a big party for your 40th birthday."

       Esme turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. "That is oddly specific," she noted, amused.

       "Taken from experience."

       "You don't say."

       They looked at each other for a moment, the same expression on both their faces. Then they laughed. And Esme was already feeling better. Somehow, her dad just knew how to cheer her up, how to look on the positive side of everything (even if it was just reminding her that she wouldn't be in high school forever — which she really needed sometimes because she tended to forget that).

       "Opal said you came home late — were you out with Tatum?" Usher asked. And in the blink of an eye, the smile on her lips was gone, disappeared, as if it had never been there in the first place. Her dad noticed that, of course. "What? What else is going on? Did you and Tatum have a fight—?"

       "No, no," Esme cut him off instantly. "Tatum had to babysit today. I was at Vinnie's..." And the worry came back. The thought of him and Eddie having to sleep in the same house as a man who could get violent towards them sickened her. "They don't have it easy ... at home," she said, her voice quiet. It wasn't her business to tell him about their situation, so she wasn't going to, even if she really wanted to. "He and Eddie didn't come to school so I wanted to check on them."

       Her dad could probably sense that she didn't want to go into detail so he didn't ask further. "You're a good friend, Esme. I'm very proud of you."

       She frowned. "Why?" Wasn't it normal to make sure your friends were OK when you had the feeling that they weren't?

       "Because you care so much," he said, a soft look in his eyes. "You want to protect everyone from harm — Anita, your friends... Sometimes you're even worried about people you don't know. And I think that's ... very brave." His voice became hoarse, like there was a lump in his throat that he desperately tried to swallow. "Not everyone is that brave." He averted his gaze, staring at the floor for a few moments.

       Esme watched him, puzzled, worried. He didn't act like himself. She'd never seen him this distressed, or at least not in a very long time. Usually, he was always in a good mood, sometimes tired, sure, but in a good mood nonetheless. This... This was strange.

       "... Dad?"

       He turned to look at her and smiled, but Esme could see that it was forced. "I'm fine, honey." He lightly touched her knee to reassure her that everything was all right, but that didn't ease her worries. She was about to say something, but the words died in her throat when he stood up, pretending like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "We should go downstairs, dinner should be ready any minute."

       With that, he left her room, leaving the door open behind him so she would follow him. Esme stared after him, confusion written all over her face.

       What in God's name—

meet the munson brothers!! yes, they're not living with their uncle yet bc i thought it would be interesting to see how they lived before they lived with wayne. i have no idea if there is any canon information about why eddie lives with his uncle, so if there is, we're just gonna ignore it :) 

we also met esme's dad, who works at the lab 🤡

hope you enjoyed! let me know what you thought!