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rocknrollsalad · 4 months

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👴 characters/pairings: steddie, clarkson, and a whole mess of randomly created munsons

🐟 Fishing is Wayne's favorite pastime. This is a life lived through fishing. Inspired by this post

🐠 content/trigger warnings: abusive childhoods, parental abandonment, military, war, period typical homophobia, major character death, pregnancy, generational trauma, ptsd

🎣 word count: 4967

Wayne’s four years old the first time his granddad took him fishing.

For one short weekend, they camp in a tent and live off the land. Wayne doesn’t remember a bit of it but his grandparents loved to recount the events. Telling the same tales the way grandparents do and everything getting bigger, funnier, and better with each retelling like all good fishing stories.

The only thing Wayne caught himself was a poison oak rash. Even though he tested the patience of a man who had so little to begin with, his granddad let him carry in the smallest fish to his waiting grandma and mom with the pride of something he’d done himself.

His mom fixed it for dinner last night and Wayne cried the whole meal long. They weren’t supposed to eat the thing. Of course, his granddad made him finish every bite on his plate.

At seven years old, Wayne catches his first fish.

He baited the line, cast the rod, and reeled it in. His granddad took him every year after that first trip and with each outing, Wayne learned a little more. He started out baiting all of granddad’s lines. The live bait was the best, he collected everything he could for days before going, carefully keeping them alive in a coffee can. A job all his own which his granddad praised him for. Especially when one attracted a fish so big they didn’t have to lie about it.

This year he could do it all without a bit of help and he brought in two fish big enough to feed himself for a meal. If there was a way to hang them on the mantel, Wayne would have.

It changed the trip from education to comradery. Sitting in silence with his granddad, staring at the water and waiting for the line to pull. No longer a child but a man in training. He didn’t even cry when he had to eat his catches.

Al joins the trip when Wayne is eleven.

Every part of Wayne hates sharing the trip with his terrible and needy little brother. He knows he’s supposed to love and care for the boy but he gets all the attention and got away with things that Wayne would have gotten in trouble for if he just thought them.

Al is unruly and loud, easily distracted, and spent his time collecting rocks. It was an absolute waste to bring him, he wasn’t suited for this. It was the worst haul they had. Not to mention, Al got to bring in the large bass granddad fought with for ten minutes. Mom and grandma fussed over it like it was made of gold. They were so excited to cook it up. Al didn’t have to take a single bite.

When Wayne is fifteen, he takes his first solo fishing trip.

Granddad passed away a few months before and Al doesn’t have any interest in going. Wayne takes himself to the woods, carrying the same tent they always used and the bait he’d dug out of the ground the night before.

He contemplates finishing high school and what to do about the boy in his room whom he wished he could kiss instead of Elise Fielding. The silence is different, not something shared but something suffered. He drags a log over to where his granddad would have sat and props his pole up against it.

Wayne comes home empty-handed. No trophy, no special dinner, just the somber realization that life can change in big, big ways and everyone goes on like nothing happened.

He doesn’t go the following year.

At twenty-two he postponed the trip to go on his honeymoon.

She’s a sweet girl and she deserves better than Wayne, he knows that much for certain. He’s far too happy to get away. They married quickly, though there was no child on the way, and the newlywed life was more than Wayne wanted to deal with.

Like his mother and grandmother before her, she fries up the fish Wayne brings home. Burns the hell out of it too. They both eat in awkward silence, pretending it doesn’t taste awful but everything about this has a bitter taste. It’s not quite right but it’ll do.

For three more years, she sends Wayne off on a long weekend to fish and taste a bit of freedom before he comes back to sour casseroles and bridge with the neighbors. The trip becomes a lifeline, a way to forget and hide from his mistakes. Wayne’s usually not one for hiding but this is different.

The rest of his twenties go by without a single fishing trip.

Unlike the mourning, these years were taken from Wayne. Forcibly and never-ending. He still spent plenty of time in silent contemplation alongside others and ate meals while crying but he served his country.

When he finally returns the lake isn’t the same. Sleeping in a tent is no longer a piece of home but something he accidentally destroyed on the first night reacting to a twig snapping in the distance. Whatever wild animal walked by obviously wasn’t a threat, still, Wayne packed up and got out there. He hadn’t even put the line in the water before calling it quits.

Before the next trip, Wayne’s a divorcee. She found someone better while he was in the jungles being shot at. He tried to hate her for it but he buys her a cookbook and wishes them the best. Alone is better. He’ll live his days out by himself but happier.

At thirty five Al shows up and says they should spend the day fishing, for old times' sake.

Naturally, Wayne indulges him. He gets a day of fishing out of this and he wants to believe that there’s a glimmer of hope in him still. That somewhere among the trees and birdsong he’ll find a way to think this is Al turning over a new leaf. Something got through that thick skull and he’s ready to…do better.

Somehow it’s worse. He married a girl and now she’s pregnant. It’s a celebration, not a fishing trip. Al even brought cigars. He was intelligent enough to know there was no other Wayne was going to sit around and listen to the news.

He should be happier to be an uncle instead of terrified. Still, the next time he makes a trip to the sports shop for his fishing weekend, Wayne can’t resist buying the tiny pole on display. It’ll be a while before his new niece or nephew needs it but, at least Wayne will be ready.

Eddie is four the first time he comes to stay with Wayne.

Al landed himself in jail and Elizabeth can’t seem to carry on. She drops Eddie off with all the diapers she has, some clothes, and a bit of food. Her tear-stained shirt and day-old makeup speak more than her words.

Wayne doesn’t know what to do with the kid. He’s four and uninterested in the few toy trucks Wayne has. Climbing all the furniture seems to hold the boy’s interest but that’s likely not safe. Not that putting him by a large body of water is any better but Wayne hopes the trip of it all will make it seem less like his parents kicked him out and more like a fun weekend with his uncle.

But Eddie is too much his father’s son. He’s not able to sit still, he talks incessantly, and every time Wayne gets the line in the water Eddie has something he shouldn’t. A lighter, a knife, and one time a bird. Wayne still can’t figure that last one out.

Still, they catch a couple of fish. Or Wayne does it while Eddie is sleeping. He doesn’t want to go home empty-handed in case the boy takes it personally. Back at Wayne’s trailer, he bakes the fish. A favorite preparation but a simple one. Eddie hates the idea that the cute little fish he saw take its last breath is now this thing in front of him. So Wayne made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

They try again when Eddie turns six.

With a backpack full of coloring books and crayons, they trek out to the fishing spot. Wayne let Eddie help make the campfire correctly and tried to give him tasks he’d be good at. It’s not as hard as their first trip but far from easy.

Eddie talks and talks, tells Wayne everything about his life at home and how much he hates kindergarten. He recounts several episodes of a cartoon word for word. Wayne thinks even if he were good with kids, he wouldn’t be good with this one.

That night Wayne sits out to watch the fire die before bed and wonders if maybe he wasn’t meant for a family. His own dad left before Wayne could commit his look to memory. Al and him never bonded, they could barely stand to be in the same room together. Eddie was shaping up to be the same. Of course, Wayne would take him out here as many times as he’d come along but they’d be little more than two people existing in the same space.

A heartbreaking realization but one meant for the woods. Out here Wayne was insignificant and an intruder. Just like he was in the Munson family.

When Eddie moves in for good, he’s thirteen.

Skittish and angry, he’s old enough to understand what cards he’s been dealt but not how to play them. Wayne skips his fishing trip this year because the last thing his nephew needs is someone leaving him again. Even for a weekend.

When the next trip rolls around, they’ve settled into a good thing. They’re coexisting in the same space but not like strangers, like roommates or friends. Eddie helps with the chores and even tried a paper route to help with money. They pick out meals together to sit and eat together. It’s coming along and though things are still new, Wayne feels a bit proud of himself. Maybe he’s not completely hopeless.

So they try a fishing trip. Wayne explains that this is for him, he goes every year but Eddie’s come five or six times now, it’d be a compliment to add to that number. Saying Eddie doesn’t have to fish, he doesn’t have to eat the catch, for all Wayne cares he can bring fifty books and walkman. It’s just good for them to get out in nature.

Eddie agreed, he’s not happy about it but what fourteen-year-old is happy about anything? Wayne remembers the age, he knows the feeling. While he talks less, he still complains about school and fills Wayne in on the week’s TV shows. Eddie’s fishing pole is never picked up but he takes small pleasure in stabbing hooks through worms and lighting the campfire.

Even though it’s a lie, Wayne says the hook Eddie baited caught a fish so he gets half of the credit. Wayne’s no expert in this kid stuff but he thought it earned him a smile. They head back with a few fish to toss in the freezer. On the way to the trailer, they grab a pizza for dinner and no one cries into it.

Wayne goes alone after Eddie turns sixteen.

He’s a licensed driver with friends to cart around. They’re all playing some game and he’s finally settled into a band. There's nothing worse than taking a lame fishing trip into the woods. Wayne doesn’t mind the peace and quiet. He has a funny feeling there’ll be a lot less of it in the coming months.

While out there, he happens upon a fellow camper nearby. A familiar face…almost. Wayne could place him to a school, though he’d picked the wrong one, he’d had a meeting or two with this man over grades.

Armed with the strangest survival kit Wayne had ever seen, talking about magnetic fields and the stars, it was familiar in that Wayne was lost for most of the conversation. What wasn’t familiar was the rush of excitement that came from listening. Something Wayne hadn’t felt for a long, long time.

Wayne saved him from the expired MREs he’d foolishly purchased from the War Zone. He saved Wayne from a night alone. They parted ways the next morning with a promise to get dinner, leaving Wayne feeling sixteen himself. Not the mess he should be getting in at his age but maybe it was time to live a little more. Eddie would graduate soon and be on to adventures of his own. What better time?

He finished out the trip alone, daydreaming and entertaining thoughts he’d never allow himself to back home. Eddie was missed but it was for the best he hadn’t tagged along on this one.

He was happy to return to tradition after Eddie’s senior year.

They go again after the second one.

Wayne was planning a big trip to Lake Tippecanoe for the summer because he knew this was the time it was going to stick. Eddie deserved a celebration for all his hard work. More than the usual trip, Wayne was pouring all his money into this vacation. This family vacation.

Eddie graduated. From his hospital bed. They didn’t go to any lake, Tippecanoe, or the usual. The hospital served fish sticks and that was as close as they were going to get. If either of them had any tears left, they’d shed them over the pathetic celebration but with everything they’d been through the wells were dry.

Hawkins had tried to run Eddie out of town and now stuff was happening beyond Wayne’s comprehension. For the first time in his life, he thought about moving away. At least for now, he’d stay. As long as Eddie needed these doctors who were more than willing to help, they’d stay in Hawkins.

That choice had Wayne enlisted in another war. Like the first time, he fought like hell. The victory felt real this time, something changed, an era had ended. Whatever they were up against, it lost.

And brought the government to every corner of the destroyed town. They “moved” Hawkins, giving homes to those who stayed. Wayne was put up in something that felt like a mansion in comparison to everything else he’d ever lived in. As much as he didn’t want to trust the agency that was duplicating a town like no one would notice, it was nice to have enough bedrooms and bathrooms for everyone. A garage to park the car and phone that was no doubt bugged, who could complain?

Especially once the place was filled with that god-awful music Eddie listened to (and played). He added the happy sounds of friends, something Wayne wasn’t used to but welcomed. Seeing Eddie among friends, and having a good time, after knowing the road to get here was worth losing sleep or the chance to watch the game.

It took another year before they went fishing again.

A true return to everything they’d known before. Wayne and Eddie tossed bags and gear into the back of Wayne’s truck with the same abandon as always, yet keeping the snacks safe in the cab. They argued about what to listen to and ignored that air mattresses had been added to the gear. Neither of them were fit for sleeping on the rocks and dirty these days. While Eddie was too young to make that claim, he’d more than earned it.

Eddie fought for the passenger seat, his seat. Instead, Scott Clarke climbed in. Smug and comfortable all while looking ready for a safari, he shrugged his shoulders. Nothing he could do for Eddie, this seat was his.

Behind him sat Steve Harrington, rolling his eyes and telling Eddie he wasn’t going to share the back seat with Scott. They quietly bickered and mocked Wayne and Scott for most of the ride. Leaving Wayne worried about the amount of fishing he’d get done. However, they did provide Wayne the opportunity to say some of the most important words in fatherhood “if you two don’t knock it off, I will turn this car around”.

In something better measured in decades than with the humble years, Wayne gave up the dream of a family fishing trip. He’d resigned himself to solitude and claimed it, perhaps held it a little too tight. Yet here he sat, sharing the bench seat with a science teacher he’d managed to not scare away. Their courtship was long, it was slow and a bit bizarre but they were together now. Something that’d be written off as roommates but was so much more.

Behind them sat two kids, neither were Wayne’s in the biological sense but no one was splitting hairs here. A nephew and a nephew-in-law, just as good as a car full of sons and daughters. They fought, begged to stop, and punched each other at the thought of a Volkswagen. They ate too much candy, worked Wayne’s last nerve, and refused to help in any manual labor. Though Steve tried hard to impress, he was easily led astray.

Seeing them around the fire, hot dogs on sticks, and laughing loudly with Scott healed Wayne in a way fish never could. Maybe he didn’t need peaceful solitude. The woods had been a great escape all these years but he’d have a blast at the DMV in this company.

Poles never made it in the water but trails were hiked, sunsets were watched, and two newish couples grew closer. A little family found itself and settled into something real on that trip. If Wayne shed a few tears into the burger he ate on the dark drive home, they were the happy sort.

The next year they took a real vacation.

Graceland, the Grand Ole Opry, and far too much Jack Daniels. Sure, they couldn’t be as close as they could in the middle of nowhere with only squirrels and deer as witnesses but they had separate rooms. The hotel had a pool though Wayne and Scott preferred the hot tub.

For five days they wore smiles. Ear to ear, make their cheeks tired smiles. They learned Scott burns even when not in direct sunlight and Steve sings a lot when drunk. Not one of them could handle spicy food but only Eddie was willing to push through the pain, torturing himself for nothing.

With enough photos next to tourist traps to fill multiple albums, they drove how talking about needing a vacation to recover from their vacation. Sharing complaints and exhaustion showed Eddie and Steve had left their teenage years behind them. They were both too young to be complaining about being tired but Wayne was proud of the men they were so he wasn’t going to stop them.

Two years later, they loaded up the truck again.

This time with everything Eddie and Steve owned. It was cheaper than a Uhaul and Steve and Eddie’s rigs were already weighed down. Scott came along for moral support on the long drive to Chicago.

Steve decided to try his hand at college and he and Eddie were the city type anyway. It was a matter of time. They were bigger than Hawkins, new or old. For Wayne, it was home. For them, a stepping stone.

Wayne didn’t speak the entire way back to Hawkins. Despite the empty bed, the truck felt heavier. Life was changing in big ways and there was nothing in any of the wisdom parents tried to impart when Wayne took Eddie in that helped this moment go down any easier.

Once home, Wayne went to bed. He left Scott to find his own supper. The day was exhausting in a way Wayne didn’t know how to cope with. Rather than drown the thoughts, he slept.

Six months later Scott surprised him with a trip to a lakeside cabin.

Except it didn’t feel the same anymore. Who could catch fish without two shitheads behind them seeing which brand of liquor makes the biggest flame or pelting each other with pinecones? It seemed appropriate that despite all his efforts, Wayne didn’t catch a thing.

He enjoyed the time with Scott and wished it could be something bigger, something more suited to his interests. No matter how much the man insisted he loved the trips, Wayne always felt a bit of guilt that they weren’t going to a museum or some kind of lecture.

It was cruel to find family only a few short years before it was gone but Wayne wasn’t alone. Steve and Eddie still came to visit, they called weekly and sometimes begged them to come to Chicago. They were still family, just spread out a little further.

At sixty-five, Wayne bought the cabin on the lake.

Retirement came later than he wanted given he didn’t need to work, it was had to figure out what would fill his nights if not a job. Wayne clung to routine but his body said it was time to give it rest. Scott finished the school year and four months later the cabin was theirs.

Eddie came out to celebrate the loss of job and the housewarming. Steve sent his love but he’d nabbed his first teaching job and didn’t want to request time off so soon into the year. Plus his best friend was dangerously close to her due date. He didn’t want to be too far when his daughter came into the world.

It meant Eddie wasn’t staying for long and kept himself near a phone, ready to leave at a moment's notice. Still, he dragged Wayne out to the end of their boat dock with a six-pack and two fishing poles. Before the line hit the water, Eddie spewed every worry in his head. Begging for advice, desperate to be half the parent Wayne was.

They talked for hours, watching the moon swap places with the sun. Scott brought them jackets, blankets, and coffee but otherwise left them be. This was something for the two of them. Wayne offered all the advice he had but admitted he didn’t have a clue how to raise a kid. He didn’t when Eddie showed up and he was just as confused now.

Wayne’s “granddaughter” was kind enough to give them the planned weekend. No fish were caught and Wayne hugged Eddie a little tighter when he left, their family was getting bigger. Scott promised they’d be up as soon as Eddie and Steve were ready to have visitors. Everyone cried a little but the weekend had been emotional.

When his granddaughter was three, she came fishing for the first time.

She was about to become a big sister and Steve and Eddie thought it was best she had something cool just for her. Life was about to be shared now and it was going to be tough for everyone. These moments became that much more important.

With a tiny rod from some big box store two towns over and a tiny life jacket, Wayne took his granddaughter out on the lake in the morning and at dusk. She was quiet and patient and just watched the water lap against the boat for the first day.

By the third day, she was on the dock waiting for Wayne. He didn’t move as fast as he used to and watching her endless energy made him miss youth a bit. With a lot of help from Wayne, she “caught” a small little fish. Just enough to bother cooking, which Scott did with the force of a gourmet chef.

He served her the fresh catch (they were both on diets for cholesterol and their heart) and watched as she excitedly dug into the thing. Eating every bite with pride, talking about how delicious it was. A word that had to be new with how much she was using it. When she was done she went and grabbed her fishing pole so she could get seconds.

The time was precious but brief. Scott and Wayne made the trip to Chicago to take her home, together they all met her new sister. They took a family picture in the living room which Steve developed in an 8x10 and sent it along with a few regular-sized ones. Eddie’s hair was graying and Wayne started to see the resemblance Scott always talked about.

Steve wore glasses and didn’t have much in the way of hearing but neither was his age. They looked exhausted and happy in a way only new parents are afforded. Scott and Wayne looked far too grandparent for Wayne’s liking. Reality hit him hard with one picture. Which was framed and hung over the mantel. Who needs to brag about their fishing, this was what Wayne was proud of.

Two years later Eddie and Scott sat together on the dock.

The silence at the cabin was impossible to bear but there was nothing to say out here either. The urn between Scott and Eddie said everything they couldn’t right now. Both of them sat there, a hand placed on the cold metal. Working up the courage to really say goodbye.

Scott hadn’t said a word since the call no one wanted to get. Come now, it won’t be long. It was the last time Eddie heard him say anything. He even cried in silence. This destroyed Scott in a way that Eddie hoped to never experience. Far too many things had become painfully real in the last few months for Eddie. This was the hammer dropping all the way.

He was going to have to carry on for the rest of his life without Wayne. There was his own family, which was going to expand again, but their son wouldn’t even get to know Wayne. Only through stories and pictures. Eddie didn’t know how he was going to keep going. No amount of knowing the day was coming made it any easier or allowed him to feel any less lost. He still had Scott, for which he was thankful, but they both knew it wouldn’t be the same.

When Steve showed up a couple of days later, wanting to give Eddie some much-needed time, he convinced Scott to move to Chicago. He’d be closer to the kids and they could help him if needed. Thanks to the government hush money, they could keep the cabin and Steve promised they’d spend every summer out there. He wanted his kids to experience this place and he didn’t want to let Wayne’s memory die. This was his house. His memory lived on here.

Eddie almost couldn’t pull out of the driveway when it came time to leave. Once that cabin was out of view things became final in a way he didn’t want to let them. Eventually, Steve had to push into the driver’s seat and take over. Eddie cried the whole way back to Chicago.

When their son was four years old, Eddie took him to grandpa Wayne’s cabin.

No one else, just him and his youngest child. He and Steve wanted a couple more but Robin tapped out. Eddie couldn’t blame her, it didn’t seem the least bit fun. They were thankful for every one they had. Eternally thankful they were given a chance.

He’d taken this trip with all his kids. A special outing with no one else. Steve took them to baseball games. Truthfully, both seemed insufferable but this wasn’t about fun. It was undivided attention and tradition. Generations of Munsons had done this and Eddie wasn’t about to let that stop with him.

One of their last times out here, Wayne talked about fishing with his granddad and how those were his favorite moments with the man. Eddie couldn’t say the same but his trips with Wayne were important. Never the best moments but the big moments. There was something about the woods that let them say and do things they wouldn’t otherwise.

Whatever it was for his children, Eddie hoped they got something out of it. At worst, it was a connection to their roots. It was around that fire pit that the oral history of the Munson family was kept alive. They’d have to suffer through the same stories just like Eddie did. Because one day Eddie wasn’t going to be here anymore and they were going to cling to those stories and that fire pit and some smelly old jacket.

His song had about as much interest in fishing as he did. It was their oldest who truly loved it. When they came as a family she tried to teach the little ones and Eddie knew he had a few years before she was yelling at him for his form and impatience.

Eddie didn’t fuss too much about the actual fishing though. They splashed the water and laughed about farts, they had their fun and ate all the food Steve told them they couldn’t. All the fish were safe but they did break the swing in the front yard.

It was hard not to think about having grandchildren and wanting to see them out on this lake. Decked out in life jackets and water wings while Steve whines about the quality of the water making the fish taste funny.

Some things change but Eddie hoped this was something that stayed the same for generations further out than he could think of. If there was anything they should strive to be, Wayne Munson was it. Whatever magic he thought was imparted through this hobby, Eddie wasn’t going to argue with. There was never any use arguing with Wayne. He was the reason Eddie was who he was, the reason he was able to be the parent he was. So it was worth pretending to fish for a weekend. For Wayne.

#i was writing several other things and this took over me #granted i clearly didn't know how to end-end it #it's also sad guys #i had a lot of emotions #it just got a quick onces over so ignore typos #enjoy it?????#i'm going to go lie down

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