When Eddie pushed open the gym door and stepped outside, the cold air that Hawkins kept close in the fall season greeted him with a shiver.
"Fuck, it's cold," he hissed and brought his hands in a cup towards his mouth.
Dustin slipped out after him and immediately began to rub his hands together to keep them warm.
"Yeah, it's a little nippy out."
He tucked himself next to Eddie, who searched in his pocket for a joint and light.
He found a cigarette tucked in the breast pocket of his vest, one that he must have rolled in the summer because it didn't look like the type that he did these days. It was messily done and he suddenly realized when he'd rolled it, or rather who'd rolled it.
In the last days of the Upside Down, he and Steve spent a moment together before it all ended.
Eddie had been in the hospital, recovering from the wounds he received from the demobats. He hadn't had a cigarette in days and unfortunately, the staff at the Hawkins hospital was incredibly vigilant.
There had been nothing for him to do, but watch as a giant seam of the Upside Down split through his home, over the television. He spent a lot of his time wildly hoping that the rest of the gang was formulating a plan that would actually work.
Then Steve Harrington had shown up unannounced, in the middle of the night, with a bag of something that Eddie's doctor wouldn't have condoned and a couple pieces of rolling paper.
Eddie couldn't move his good hand yet, so he'd patiently run through the logistics of rolling a joint to Steve and right before his eyes, the boy had fumbled through the process.
The end result was what Eddie was holding in his hand right now, a poorly formed cigarette.
Steve had been ridiculously proud and ready to do another one.
But that had been the exact moment that the gang's brainstorming had born the fruit of it's labours.
Steve had handed the joint to Eddie and then he was gone.
Eddie couldn't even remember if he'd said goodbye before he flew out of the room.
It didn't do any good to think about it now, especially since Steve probably couldn't recall a single minute of the interaction.
Eddie brought the joint to his lips and light it. Bitter smoke choked his lungs, but the comfort that he got from it was stronger than the aftertaste. He exhaled slowly and passed it to Dustin.
"Not too much," he warned the boy, who took it all too eagerly from his hand.
Dustin then proceeded to practically inhale the spliff with fervent speed and a choking cough racked his body when the smoke inevitably overfilled his airways.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his back a couple of times. "Slow down, Henderson! You've got your whole life to char those lungs."
He plucked the joint from between Dustin's lips and took another long drag as the boy got the last of his turn out of his system.
"Sorry, Eddie," he mumbled when the coughing subsided enough for him to speak.
"It's fine, but you'd better make this your last smoke. Otherwise, you'll end up like me." Eddie half-heartedly threatened him, gesturing to himself as an example.
Dustin's eyes brightened.
"No, no, that is absolutely not something to aspire to," Eddie quickly clarified and he stubbed out the joint for good measure, squishing it against the concrete.
Henderson looked at it's broken body mournfully and Eddie had to forcibly turn him away from it, steering him back towards the gym doors.
"Look, you can't look up to every part of me, Dustin." He wrapped an arm around the boy. "There are bits and pieces of me that really don't need to be copied into the next generation."
He was speaking lightly, but he meant everything.
There didn't ever need to be another Eddie Munson. He had made too many mistakes to wish more of himself on the future of the world.
"Aw, Eddie, y'know that isn't true," Dustin said, loyal as ever.
Eddie smiled.
The world did need more Dustins.