This is a SEQUEL to Your Favorite Song: s/14091647/1/Your-Favorite-Song


"Edward Joseph Munson!"

His uncles voice catapulted him from his daze. "H-hi?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

Wayne planted his hands on his hips. "Fine. What'd I just say?"

"Um." Eddie ran a nervous tongue over his lips. "'Good morning'?"

A huff. The older man waited to take a few gulps of coffee before continuing: "I said I'm working overtime tonight. Make sure you eat at work, and make sure you get something for breakfast."

"Right."

"Did you have anything today?"

Wayne knew he hadn't. Eddie wasn't good at remembering to eat. Lately even worse. Food just had no flavor. It all tasted grey. He missed Rosie's cooking. And her smile. And her eyes. The smell of her hair and the feel of her in his arms. The way she said "I love you"...and even her little bratty moments. He folded her letter and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Sifted through the photos on the table. She'd got a new polaroid camera, so lately he was lucky enough to get envelopes full of pictures. Mostly of Boston, but some of her. Some were very intriguing. He slipped those in after the letter as Wayne edged closer.

"I'll have something before work." He said.

"Make yourself some toast now. " His uncle ordered, not having time for his shit. "You got skinnier since last night, I swear."

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but Wayne scowled. Instead, he stomped into the kitchen and threw two slices of bread into the toaster. He'd made a good call removing the more personal photos from the pile - the other man was now browsing his little collection.

"She's staying with a friend." Eddie explained. "Gabrielle? I-I think they're in the same major."

"Looks like she's enjoying herself." Wayne was smiling down at some photos of Rosie at a Halloween party. Another birthday Eddie had missed. Another opportunity for him to disappoint her. Sure, he had sent her some books (ones she had to ask for), and a card. Made certain to call her, too. But that didn't mean he didn't hear the regret in her voice.

"Yeah, she... she likes it there."

"Boston's a nice city." His uncle eyed him. "You'll probably like it, too."

Eddie sighed. Took a bite. Like ashes in his mouth. "Yeah."

"How are the savings?"

"Little by little."

"And the other stuff?"

He nodded. "Good."

"You told Dr. Shelby... about the latest?"

A twitch took over his left eye. He pressed his knuckle into it. Rosie's screams. Wailing in pain. Her body floating in midair, bones snap snap snapping. She fell, and was picked clean by a swarm of ravenous bats. "I did. We're deconstructing it."

"Are you talking to him? Really talking?"

"Yessir."

Wayne scooped all the photos up and dropped them into their shoebox. "Great. I'm going to see about getting you that phone. Take a nap, Ed. You look like a ghost."

He felt like a ghost. More and more so every day. Rosie had breathed a spark of life into him that the Upside Down had taken away. Those bats had drained him of something vital when they quite literally ate him alive, and he had spent the months since his resurrection trying to resuscitate his will to live. Then she had just breezed in and given him a whole new purpose.

As much as he understood that she had to leave. As much as he wanted her to go out and make something of herself - achieve her dreams and all that - part of him was bitter at her departure. In turn she was equally bitter. Mostly about his unwillingness to leave, the slowness of his progress. The fact that he remained tied to Hawkins in spite of everyone pushing him to go to Boston.

There had been fights. Starting just a few days after she left. Scorching, tear-stained arguments. They had both said things they regretted. Rosie begging him to follow her, promising him that they could find a shrink in Boston. She promised to help him. Even offered to contribute if it cost a bit more. But he had come so far with Dr. Shelby. He trusted him. It wasn't that easy for him to just switch doctors. He hadn't explained properly, and that led to one of the most heartbreaking exchanges he had ever experienced.

"Do you still want me?"

The way she said it. The despair in her voice. He had been too stunned to answer for a while. Too long of a while. "Of course I do."

"It's okay, Eddie. If that's what's happening, I'd prefer if you -"

"NO!" He had boomed at her, making the phone echo. "Don't even think that."

"I just -"

"Stop. Stop it."

"I'm sorry."

It scared him. He had never heard her like this. There was an emptiness in her tone that stirred an unknown fear in his chest. That got worse as he heard what she had done. The warnings he had given before she left - Rosie had ignored all of them. She was now sleeping in her car again. At that moment, he came very close to getting in his truck himself. He made her swear to find somewhere. To reach out to all her contacts. Exes. Charlie. He didn't care, so long as she was safe. Every call after that he hounded her, never letting up til she settled into the apartment. He didn't care how much he pissed her off, or how much she claimed she was fine. He'd be damned if he let her sleep in the back of a station wagon.

Even now that he knew she had a room, he worried she might revert back to her bad habits, and stop looking after herself again.

A nap couldn't help that. All it could really help with was the sleep he had sacrificed to talk to her. She called once a week, every Thursday night ,and the sound of her mere voice coming down the line did things to him. Rosie knew this, too, and had perfected her tone, vocabulary, even her imagination to play into his desperate fantasies. They had a routine, starting with the pleasantries, then the important stuff. It always got exciting toward the end. Or even emotional. So much so that Wayne was now insisting on getting a phone for Eddie's bedroom - he'd walked into the trailer to find him with his hands down his pants one too many times.

Even now, he laid on his bed and studied one of her photos. Rosie had gotten two new tattoos since she left - one tucked scandalously under her right breast. He strained against his jeans just looking at it. Wayne wasn't there, so why hold back? He undid his zipper and filled his palm with lotion.

Yeah, Rosie had known exactly what she was doing when she took this.