the_freak | Dear Billy

Honestly, they're the one thing in his life that hasn't changed. The one thing that he knew had been good before everything was turned to chaos and then moving out of California to this place.

He's about to elaborate on it when there's a jacket being passed to him. Smells a little... well, not like a hospital, but something related to drugs maybe. Billy's not sure if that's true or if his nose is just out of whack from inhaling abandonment and dust for so long. He holds it in tight fingers, wincing at the mental tug in his mind. It doesn't go any further than that and a nod comes at the answer.

"Yeah, I can do that." The vase gets picked up and gently set on the floorboard at his feet. "Make sure nothing happens to that, okay?" He gets out of the car and shrugs the jacket on. Luckily it covers up how dirty he is, and most of the dried blood. With everything that's happened in Hawkins, maybe no one would question any of it.

That was easier than he'd hoped, and Eddie's glad he doesn't have to make up some BS reason he's not the one going in. He offers a tight smile and nods. "Cash in the pocket, grab whatever you like, go wild," he offers.

It's on Harrington, he thinks with an amused smile, trying not to stress over having pretty much nothing to his name. How different was that really from before?

Meanwhile, after a glance at that vase (fingers itching to toy with it), Eddie practically climbs into the back seat to grab his bag, out of breath by the time he none to gracefully seats himself and tries the walkie talkie. No one's picking up to give an update to and he sighs dramatically

"Come on, man, I could be Vecna chow and none of you would even know it," he hisses into the device before tossing it into the back. This is fine. Everything is fine.

Billy, as Eddie will find, is easier to ask of things than Hargrove. And he's hungry, so if it's a means to getting some food, then he'll do it. One hand goes into the pocket, then other to find some cash. There's a lot more than he expects, but the blond doesn't question it. The bell at the door chimes as he heads into the store.

It doesn't take long to find some stuff that'll work. It's a small shop so there's some small items to just heat up at least, and some snacks. Billy picks out a decent variety, and heads towards the counter. A pause. The blond adds a couple bakery items and then continues to checkout. There's enough money in the pocket, so he picks out a pair of Pepsis to add to it before taking the bag and heading back to the car.

He gets back in time to see something tossed into the backseat. "Got some easy food. Stuff to heat up, bread and-" He produces a plastic container housing a pair of cupcakes. There's a little box of blue candles sitting neatly on top.

"March twenty-ninth. Since you asked when my birthday was... so I got these." To share because no one wants to spend a birthday alone.

It all probably better than Eddie would've done, and he looks relieved that it's gone off without incident. Which makes him feel a little guilty then, since part of him knew it was risky as hell sending Billy in there.

His expression brightening a little at the pair of cupcakes, and eh ducks his head. Looks like Billy might be sticking around after all.

"...Hope you don't expect me to deliver the birthday spankings, Sunshine," he teases with a flirtatious grin.

Things were...messy in Hawkins. Seeing a scrawny blond was probably the most normal thing the clerk had seen in the store in awhile. Billy knew he needed a shower, clean clothes, because he wasn't the same good looking man he had been before... he... died. Still trying to work with that.

His gaze darkens at the joke. "You don't get to hit me, Eddie." But he warms up a little more at the nickname. Sunshine. Weird, but nice. Billy wasn't against it.

The bag of groceries gets set down and he picks up the vase instead. "I realized I didn't answer you when you asked when my birthday was. I'll be nineteen." He looks down at the vase, then back out of the windshield. "I've been alone for so long that... I guess I don't want to spend it by myself."

He pulls a cigarette out of the carton Eddie gave him earlier, then another to hand over to the one driving. He lights both and relaxes in the seat.

Eddie puts on an innocent look and nods. He's not the one with a reputation for hitting anyways. He's all bark, obvious, sure, but not particularly violent under normal circumstances. Belatedly his lips quirk at Billy calling him Eddie.

He has to fumble with the wires to start the car up again. If Billy hasn't noticed the lack of keys before now, this'll be harder to miss, though Eddie tries to act casual about it. "Nineteen, huh?" he flashes him a fond look, straightening up as the engine starts, "We'll make it a good one," he promises, though given the whole...world maybe ending, it's not a promise he's sure he can keep.

He reaches gratefully to accept the cigarette, inhaling deeply and feeling a brief sense of calm. "...so uh- what's with the shells, Man?"

Billy had been through too much to let someone hit him outside of a fight. It was too much of a reminder of Neil, of who he had lost from the abuse. He clenches his fingers around the vase just a little tighter at the thought.

That time, the blond almost misses how Eddie starts the car, and frowns. "The fuck? Did you lose your keys or did someone lose their car?" He knows the answer, especially with how the other fumbles with the wires. If it was his car, there wouldn't be any mistakes for certain. "Hope the guy understands you needed the car more than he did."

Billy relaxes again. The car was already in Eddie's possession, no sense now in trying to get him to take it back to the hospital. Where was his Camaro anyways? Something to look into after he eats. The engine fires up and he catches the fond look with his own smirk. Being out here and not dead would be a good birthday.

Then his face darkens at the question. Billy looks away and reaches in to pull one of the shells out. A dried sand dollar, still whole. "Something from a long time ago. A... a good thing from a long time ago." He doesn't feel like he's safe enough to tell Eddie. It'll make him too vulnerable and he's not ready for that after all those months locked away and feeling like that by himself.

Glance his way, Eddie shrugs, trying not to look as guilty as he feels. He'd done his best while scouting to not pick anything with a car seat, or someone who obviously worked at the hospital, but chances are whoever he stole it from isn't going to be feeling too charitable about it. "Desperate times," he excuses.

A good thing. Eddie considers that a moment, looking out at the road ahead, and he nods, thinking he has at least some semblance of what that means. He doesn't press for more details, catching the cigarette from between his lips to hold as he turns. They could all use a few more good things.

He pulls into Rick's, chest tight at being back here, but he tries to ignore the feeling. He'll hide the car better tomorrow, no one's going to be patrolling for it out here. "We should be safe here for a while," he says, killing the engine and reaching to grab his shit from the back, shoving the walkie back his bag.

It wasn't like Billy was in the running for Boy Scout of the year or anything, so he... doesn't judge too much. Or at least out loud. He instead focuses on chaining some puffs together and blowing it out the now rolled down window. They've gone to an unfamiliar part of town, and it must be Lover's Lake.

Unfamiliar part of town, unfamiliar lake, unfamiliar house. But Eddie says it's safe, so he gets out with the vase and the groceries. Another growl of his stomach. "The sooner we get in there, the sooner I can heat up some of this food." Maybe if there was a toaster, he could start with that and work up to the other things he bought. "Are there... appliances I can use inside?" He starts up towards the door, no hesitation this time compared to the steps of the Hargrove house.

The boat house still has a few broken strands of police tape around it, but hopefully those don't draw Billy's attention.

Eddie nods, clearly familiar with the place. He's camped out at Rick's more than a few times. The place is still a mess from Carver and his friends, and Eddie rights some of the furniture with a frown. "Kitchen's that way," he directs, dirty pot of noodles still sitting on the stove top.

He's noticed. But Billy keeps quiet for the time being because no point in making accusations without more facts. Maybe this guy that owned the house was just a bad person. Or maybe he skipped town when the earthquake happened. Fucking hillbilly pussies. The earth shakes a little and they scatter like roaches.

He doesn't eye the mess too much, heading right into the kitchen. The power's still active, so the light's on, stuff put into the refrigerator, and he takes in what he's got to use. The noodles get dumped - God only knows how long that shit has sat there. The pot gets put into the sink and he finds a toaster. Promising start.

The smell of toasting bread lightly fills the kitchen and after washing a couple of bowls, Billy makes some spagettio's to go with it. "Made a bowl for you, Eddie," he calls out, putting his toast on a napkin and taking his bowl out to the living room. There's definitely hunger in his eyes - real food that wasn't military rations.

Eddie fusses about with some basic tidying, enough to make the place some what livable for the next few days. He digs out some blankets and drops them on the couch after making sure Rick's bed is somewhat workable. Billy can take the bed, he reasons. Looks like he could use it, and it's not like Rick can protest. The couch'll be more comfy than the boat house at any rate.

He smells the food, and looks surprised Billy's bothered with plating it up all nice. "Thanks, Man," he gives passing pat to Billy's shoulder, going to collect his own bowl, all ready digging in before he's returned to take a seat. "Made up the bed. Rick's clothes should fit you if you wanna change, and the shower's shit, but it works."

Billy doesn't deal in verbal thanks. He does it by doing stuff, evident with the hot bowl of food waiting for him. The blond takes a seat on the couch and bundles under a couple of blankets (how was he so cold?) before pulling the bowl to him. "I'll shower after I eat," comes the point blank response. He's hungry but he understands what's being offered at least.

He tries not to think about the bloody and dirty scrubs he's still in, or the blood and dirt caked under his nails. No thoughts on that, and instead focuses on his food. He goes right for the tomato soup and pasta mixture, trying not to just shovel it into his mouth. It sits heavy in his stomach and only gets halfway through his bowl when he has to stop. Usually this was something he'd be able to push through, but the way his stomach cramps up is terrible.

Maybe he shouldn't have tried something heavy like this after coming out of the lab...

It's very much appreciated if the way Eddie's scarfing it down is any evidence. He tries not to think about how strange this is. Maybe it's easier now since everything that's happening. This hardly even ranks anymore.

He pauses, perceptive enough to see something's off with Billy, and he licks his spoon clean before checking- "You good?" trying to keep his tone light. He looks like he might hurl, and Eddie cautiously sets his bowl down.

It's wrong. Not... the food being wrong, it's good, it's wrong and heavy. His stomach churns and cramps. Billy doesn't even hear the question before he's bounding off of the couch in search--

Where is it? He pounds up the stairs with a hand on his stomach before finally entering the bathroom. The porcelain lid almost gets ripped off as Billy opens it to empty out what he just ate. He yells, frustrated because he wants the food damn it! And now he's here, vomiting like a bitch that's drank too much. It takes a few more passes for it to all get out and he slumps against the wall opposite from the toilet.

"...fuck."

Fuck. Eddie looks after him and sighs. He can hear well enough the struggle that follows, and he gives Billy space for a moment before quietly making his way up after him.

He leans in the door way with an apologetic smile, not sure what to say. He slides down the wall inside to crouch next to Billy, giving his shoulder a small bump with his own.

"...you want some water?" he asks softly.

Billy looks so beaten down, a shell of the man he had been before the Mind Flayer. So thinned out, dirty, and so split. Blue eyes look at Eddie as the other joins him.

God, his head hurts. Maybe he should've grabbed gatorade instead of Pepsi. The shoulder bump to his own doesn't get a mirrored response, but he does slump over to use Eddie as support. "...hate it here. 'm hungry but m'stomach didn't want that." Toast. He should've started with the toast.

"... I want a toothbrush." Scrub his teeth of vomit.

"Give your stomach a break and then we'll start slow," Eddie advises, as though this is a team effort.

He frowns faintly, unsure he can provide in this instance. He glance at Rick's toothbrush with a dismissive hum and pushes away from the wall.

"Hang on-" he says, poking around in the cupboard under the sink to see if he can find something. "Got this?" he offers, blindly handing back an old bottle of mouthwash.

That was a good idea. In his haste for eating something that weren't old as fuck rations, Billy hadn't even thought about acclimating his stomach back to regular food. All he can think about in this moment is the warmth of Eddie's shoulder under his cheek, and how dizzy he is from throwing up. When the other stands, Billy puts his support back on the wall to watch.

He takes the bottle and cracks it open. Its... got a refreshing taste, so the blond takes enough to swish and around recaps the bottle to push back into Eddie's hands. It doesn't work entirely, but it passes enough to get the sour taste from his mouth. Once he's finished, it spits it into the toilet bowl and flushes it.

"...if I wasn't hungry before, 'm fucking starving now." And shit does he sound tired.

Eddie offers a hand up, trying not to look too 'pittying'. He hates when that look is focused on himself.

"Come on, we'll try again." He offers his support if Billy needs it. "I'll get you soe water too."

Billy eyes that hand for a long moment. Was Eddie giving him a pitiful look? Or was that just his memory filling in Neil for Eddie? One hand goes to rub his eyes against the headache forming, then takes the offered hand with his other. Once he's upright, he braces against the wall before his balance equals out.

"Yeah. I should've started small or some shit." Now he sounds closer to Hargrove, all frustrated and grumpy. A quick glance to show the toilet bowl is clean of the contents given, and he follows back down to the first story, albeit slower than earlier. "I should've grabbed aspirin."

"S'fine," Eddie reassures. It's not like Billy made himself sick on purpose. They'll just try again.

"Oh, I can find some probably," And Eddie's all ready racing back up, waving for Billy to go on ahead. "Just take it slow. There's tv, or the radio or whatever, maybe throw something on to distract yourself," he encourages.

He disappears back upstairs, small curses erupting now an again as he searches.

When was the last time someone showed him kindness? Kindness without stipulations? There had been that strange girl in the mall, remarking how his mother was pretty.

While Eddie goes to hunt down some pills, Billy gets up to turn the television on, then goes to the kitchen. When he returns, the vase of shells in back in his arms. The news is on, going through the weather for the rest of the week. Going through missing persons.

Billy stops as Eddie's face pops up. The reporter gives few details about looking for Eddie Munson, how he was still wanted for murder, and how there seem to be no new leads. The news presses on to national sports. The young man stares at the set before glancing up at the ceiling where he can hear cursing in Eddie's hunt.

Was that guy really a murderer? He didn't interact with him in school at all, but he had heard the whispers. How Eddie was a satan worshipper, a freak, all sorts of things. And he had been so adamant in hiding in the hospital room. Max's hospital room. The vase gets set down quickly, in time for Billy to collapse against the floor. When he awakens with a start, it's not the soft Billy anymore.

"MUNSON!" he shouts, wincing at his own headache. Fucking... ate that shit way too fast. Too heavy. Feet pound the stairs as he heads back up them, a man on a mission.

"Ah-" Eddie grins to himself, finally finding what he's searching for, and he gives the container a little rattle. There's not a ton of pills in there, but it's something.

He straightens at the unexpected shout, naively thinking Billy's just being impatient. "I got it, I got it," he mutters, coming out to display the pill bottle with a triumphant grin. That smile's quick to fade as his mind recalculates. Nope. Shit. This is far too familiar a scene. Eddie scrambles put distance between them without waiting to see what the issue was, bolting like a god damn rabbit.

He nearly falls over himself into Rick's room, throwing his shoulder against the door to try and keep Hargrove out.

"I didn't do anything-" he's quick to defend, all of which probably paints him as more guilty than he realizes.

Munson comes out to him and there's no hiding the look on Hargrove's face. He's clearly angry at what he presumes is this dick trying to kill his stepsister. Did he like Max? Not a family level. But he didn't want her dead either. The door gets slammed between them and Hargrove body checks it.

If this had been back in June of last year, it might've yielded under him. But with no muscle now by comparison, it simply creaks and he tries again. "Why the fuck are you wanted for murder, Munson?!" Another body check. "You going in to finish the job on Max?" And Eddie couldn't have done it, not with Billy there. Now he had Hargrove somewhere unfamiliar, with no way for the police to really look for them here.

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