["Is something wrong", he asks. Billy feels like screaming. What isn't wrong? This panic he's feeling over going back to their place, the fact that Teddy's inexplicably changing, the incredible mess his magic has caused for everyone he loves and cares about, scars around necks (physical or - in Teddy's case - memetic). Lifeless hospital rooms and watching the world through a dusty window, burrowing in soft red hoodies to hide from the world instead of just cold.
Teddy, looking at him like that, telling him who he is, asking if something is wrong.
A muffled, broken sound escapes his lips, a cry or a whimper or something not altogether human, and he wriggles his hand free of Teddy's to reach both of them up to Teddy's face instead. He touches the hair, searching for the unfamiliar dark strands. When he finds none he lets his hands drop to Teddy's shoulders instead, feeling his muscles, following the contours down each arm. Familiar. It's familiar, skin and bone and muscle and structure that he's felt a hundred times before. Better. So much better.
You drove him to this. Whatever he's doing, it's your fault.
Shuddering, because of that lingering fear and because of relief, now, he stops his examination when he reaches Teddy's hands again, fingers curling hesitantly around his thumbs, like he's not sure if he has permission again- like his doubts broke the chance he'd been given. He bows his head, ashamed, hovering just an inch away from Teddy's chest.]
[Action, October 21st]
Teddy, looking at him like that, telling him who he is, asking if something is wrong.
A muffled, broken sound escapes his lips, a cry or a whimper or something not altogether human, and he wriggles his hand free of Teddy's to reach both of them up to Teddy's face instead. He touches the hair, searching for the unfamiliar dark strands. When he finds none he lets his hands drop to Teddy's shoulders instead, feeling his muscles, following the contours down each arm. Familiar. It's familiar, skin and bone and muscle and structure that he's felt a hundred times before. Better. So much better.
You drove him to this. Whatever he's doing, it's your fault.
Shuddering, because of that lingering fear and because of relief, now, he stops his examination when he reaches Teddy's hands again, fingers curling hesitantly around his thumbs, like he's not sure if he has permission again- like his doubts broke the chance he'd been given. He bows his head, ashamed, hovering just an inch away from Teddy's chest.]
...Sorry... I'm sorry...I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm so...