ic contact (quiet place)

[waystation]

UN:touched
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Delivery 3/16

[clussy]

(Jake will discover in his bedroom a bike. Not just any bike. Silver. It looks freshly polished and it's leaning against its kickstand.

It had been even harder to leave in Jake's room than it had been to leave the pin with Max. It left Eddie with a cold, hollow feeling that shook in the center of his chest. He had almost cried leaving the bike. A part of him wanted to put it in his own room in the corner. But it somehow felt like....a memorial if he did that. Like Bill was never coming back.

And he couldn't accept that.

So for now...

Hanging from the bike from a string is a new note. A note that Eddie had taken several tries to write. He had scraped wads of paper on his floor still from it and his hand cramped from how many times he'd tried figuring out what he wanted to say. And even the final copy isn't perfect, but Eddie's tired by the time he's finished. And the note reads:)

Jake-

I need to ask something of you. I need you to take care of this bike. I need you to please help me This was Bill's bike.

And he's gone now. He's gone and I don't know when he'll come back, but I know he has to come back. He can't leave me forever. I know he can't. He promised he wouldn't. So he'll be back and when he does, you'll have this bike safe and ready for him. It deserves to be ridden and loved and I trust you with those things. I trust you with this.

Thank you for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you. It's okay, by the way. I know you're going to be worried and it's okay. It's okay. I'm okay or I'll be okay.

Love,
Eddie.

[waystation]

<sub>[Like with Charlie, when Bill's mental presence disappears, Jake notices it as one might notice a painting they see every day suddenly gone from the interior landscape of their house. Not dead on the floor, or burned to ash, just... gone.

When he comes home one day to find the bike, what would be an antique in his time if not for the life preserved in it from the owner who'd cherished it up until now, he comes to a complete stop. Almost reverently, he runs his fingers over a handle bar. It's not Bill, but it is in a way a part of him, like Roland's guns had been a part of him.]</sub>

Eddie,

I'll take good care of it, I swear.

I know you'll be okay. Bill would know you'll keep going, if he were here to say it. But if you need me, you know where to find me.

_{[It doesn't seem strange to him that Eddie would sign the end of his letter with love. It's an act of love, after all, born of the love Eddie has for Bill and the love Bill has for his bike. He respects that.]}

You can trust me.

- Jake