[ When did getting out of a car become so difficult? Maybe that's what the upside down took from him, a proper sense of balance. If that's all he's lost, it will be a blessing. It certainly seems that way, because the moment she opens the door his body-- the world-- seems to slant sideways, but then she's managed to catch him, and he has something steady to focus on. Come on, Eddie, something inside him says, you're better than this. It doesn't sound like his own voice, he can't remember a time where he's ever told himself "you're better than this", because what has he ever been better than?
But she's helping him up, back on his feet again. And for as agonizing as the entire process feels, it makes him feel a little more connected to reality. Normal people can get out of cars, even with help. He is normal. This is normal. It's not true, of course, but telling himself so is helpful. Once he's standing, he immediately wishes he was back in her backseat again. His vision doubles, singles, triples, singles again. This is fine, okay, there's only of one of everything he thinks there's supposed to be one of. One Nancy helping him towards her house. One him, hopefully. ]
Shutting up now.
[ He says it seriously, as though until now he's been a chatterbox instead of struggling to string sentences together. He's forgotten just where they're supposed to be heading, but he trusts her to lead him there. Eddie takes in a slow breath, trying to get himself to focus on the task at hand, to get himself a little more steady. It helps, at least a little, keeps him from having to lean so heavily on her that he'd send her toppling over. They inch forward, his steps small but even, and slowly but surely they make their way inside.
It helps that the Wheeler parents are so regularly oblivious that they likely could have come crashing in and still not be noticed. It feels almost too easy to slip by them, even as Eddie struggles to descend the steps that lead down to the basement. It's only once he's able to collapse back onto the thread bare couch that Eddie finally makes a sound, lets out a groan of pain that he must have been holding this entire time. ]
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But she's helping him up, back on his feet again. And for as agonizing as the entire process feels, it makes him feel a little more connected to reality. Normal people can get out of cars, even with help. He is normal. This is normal. It's not true, of course, but telling himself so is helpful. Once he's standing, he immediately wishes he was back in her backseat again. His vision doubles, singles, triples, singles again. This is fine, okay, there's only of one of everything he thinks there's supposed to be one of. One Nancy helping him towards her house. One him, hopefully. ]
Shutting up now.
[ He says it seriously, as though until now he's been a chatterbox instead of struggling to string sentences together. He's forgotten just where they're supposed to be heading, but he trusts her to lead him there. Eddie takes in a slow breath, trying to get himself to focus on the task at hand, to get himself a little more steady. It helps, at least a little, keeps him from having to lean so heavily on her that he'd send her toppling over. They inch forward, his steps small but even, and slowly but surely they make their way inside.
It helps that the Wheeler parents are so regularly oblivious that they likely could have come crashing in and still not be noticed. It feels almost too easy to slip by them, even as Eddie struggles to descend the steps that lead down to the basement. It's only once he's able to collapse back onto the thread bare couch that Eddie finally makes a sound, lets out a groan of pain that he must have been holding this entire time. ]
See? Easy breezy.