ic inbox.

[heatmetal]

[ his voicemail greeting is just a guitar riff ]

Comments

[camarod]

[is he? maybe? maybe. he doesn't feel that desire to consume, the way he had before. doesn't feel the need to press in and reshape the chemistry of Eddie's brain until he's working his strings, making wrong feels right. instead he feels sort of - content? like there's something warm just at the edge of his peripherals that he can reach out for, if he needs it.

he can feel some of that trepidation, though. that loose, lingering anxiety of Eddie's. the uncertainty under that determination. he sees Eddie Munson, and wonders if Eddie can see him too. ]

Yeah - yeah I think so. [he wants to squeeze that hand again, so he does. ] You're freaked out. I can feel it.

[heatmetal]

Yeah, no offense, but psychic powers haven't treated me so good in the past.

[ but he can... feel it. a subtle pressure on his mind that he's certain is billy. the chaotic riot of feeling that is everything billy hargrove is and could be. ]

... Can you tell what I'm thinking?

[ Potato chips ]

[camarod]

Shit - Eddie, you shouldn't have. [That little spike of regret and panic is all Billy. he's reaching, squeezing that hands, fingers threaded through - what? reassure? how do you even comfort someone with this?

he breathes. he takes pause. doesn't want to know if he can read Eddie's mind, but figures, yeah okay, he should know. should know if that's a boundary they have to set. Eddie's head is a tapestry; winding paths to the conscious thought and he frowns, searching and searching - ]

- Chips? I can see - Lays.

[heatmetal]

Well, shit.

[ Without venom. it comes as a breathless laugh as Eddie reaches out with his spare hand to snag the bag by the bed, tossing it over to Billy. ]

Sorry to you, man, my mind palace is crumbling and filled with some weird fucky demons.

[camarod]

No it's like - being in a room and there's a bunch of people talking, right? But they're all you.

[hard to say whether this is a good or a bad thing. ] It's a little weird pulling out of it.

[heatmetal]

Even worse!

[ okay. okay. it's fine. it's fine. fuck - if there's anybody he can trust in his head, it's billy. so many of their demons are identical. eddie just... wears his less obviously. ]

Are you stuck? Do I need to like... shove you?

[camarod]

Nah, nah, let me get the hang of this - [it's like leaving a warm bath, which is not really a thought he ever imagined having about Eddie's innermost thoughts. ]

Can you read my mind? [surely? if he wants him to? he thinks bats, because he's mean. ]

[heatmetal]

[ it... takes a minute. ]

You're a dick, you know that right? [ he gestures towards the barred window. ] Bats.

[camarod]

[he laughs, finally. not quite chill, bit close enough there that he thinks maybe this will be okay. maybe he was worried for nothing. ]

Yeah, but that's why you love me.

[heatmetal]

[ Eddie laughs, punching his knee gently as he stands up. There's a warm burst of affection, relief. ]

So... are we just psychically linked now?

[camarod]

I - I think so? It's weird, right?

[he isn't sure what to do with that affection now that he's certain it's real! doesn't know what to do with Eddie knowing he's a bit weird about it! ]

God, this might be a nightmare.

[heatmetal]

[ oh yeah this is gonna be a whole thing, isn't it. the fluttery uncertainty billy feels when faced with affirmations is - well it was obvious from a distance. it's sort of upsetting up close. eddie threads his fingers through his bedhead, tilting his head back. ]

Welp. In for a penny.

[camarod]

[there is, for one blissful whole thirty-forty seconds, a huge swell of gratitude, of fondness. of relief to have someone be able to know him without the preamble of having to say what he means, what he feels. without having to explain himself.

then it's back to that wired uncertainty; that age old Billy Terror of messing up. ]

We gotta tell Steve. I'll figure how to to pull myself out - I know it's a lot -

[heatmetal]

It's okay, B. Chill.

[ he holds his hands up, palms out. ]

We can tell Steve once we got a little more of a handle on this.

[camarod]

I'm just saying, it's a big deal - [okay, okay. he can chill. he's chill (he's not).

it is a big deal though. ] Okay, okay. I think because it's new, I'm like - gravitating towards you like a magnet?

[heatmetal]

[ .... ]

Like, you want to have physical contact with me, oooooor?

[camarod]

[maybe - ]

No, no like - I just wanna sit in there for a bit. Like a hot shower? I don't fucking know dude. Like when you're a kid and you wanna go through your folks stuff, or just sit on their bed for a bit.

[heatmetal]

[ there's a brief flash of... something. a messy living space. temporary. spartan. home is a truck and his father's things are in the dash, and whatever is in there is what makes him turn into a different person.

he drops down onto the bed next to him. ]

I'm pretty much an open book.

[camarod]

Not all of you should be though, is the thing.

[there is a returning thing: it's bedsheets that smell like floral tones and fresh air. a little like sea salt, warm and safe, and then cold, empty and slightly stale. there's the feeling of missing the sea salt, of missing arms around him, of soft singing. these are all Billy's private things - things that are his. he's making a point.

but then Eddie is close, and Billy feels that other kind of warmth. the relief, the fondness. ]

[heatmetal]

[ California. No wonder Billy wants to return there, it screams of home for him. ]

B, I'm not worried about you seeing my secrets. [ his life has been messy. but it's his.

it's more the... the emotions that could be bad. the loneliness that claws at him. all the years he spent being othered. ] But the ugly bits are pretty ugly.

[camarod]

You're worried about your ugly parts? Eddie, look at who you're talking to.

[he's all ugly parts, more or less: hurt; angry; slightly bitter. ] We'll figure it out, man. Eventually.

[it's so juvenile, how he wants to curl up now. like that's something you do with your friends, put your head in their lap to feel close to them, or wrap your arms around them to feel the anchor of being alive. ]

- Thanks. Thanks for - this.

[heatmetal]

[ he feels it, and without thinking, his arm comes out. pulling billy to his shoulder. ]

I'm talking to my generous friend who is sometimes a colossal prick. But that is, weirdly, why I love him.

It's no problem, man. You feeling better?

[camarod]

[his head goes temple to shoulder. it feels, somehow, more intimate than having been in Eddie's head. ]

Your generous friend sounds exhausting. But he's fine. More or less.

[generous. ha. ] If I start growing tentacles, you promise to take me out?

[heatmetal]

Oh, definitely. Even you can't pull that look off.

[camarod]

Appreciate it, killer.

[that's a relief too. ] I wonder how close I gotta be to be like, in your head.