selfhelp | [IC] Appointments Post

Entry tags:

[action],
[voice]

[IC] Appointments Post

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[Action, January 1st]

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You think... that's a good thing? Making someone like him angry, just because it gets him talking?

[His voice is quiet and curt, laced with pain and anger and fear and plenty of other things he's pretty sure can't be named. There's a certain logic to her words, yes, and to a point, he understands what she means, what she's trying to say. But he remembers. He remembers walls painted red, and spinning blades, and the sound of someone choking on their own fluids. He remembers Hawkeye's wheezing breath, the precision of the knife wounds, how meticulous they'd been, almost scientific-

"I've wrapped up your present prettily-"

"I prefer to do it by hand-"

-no no no no no-]

Why- [His voice cracks, pitched with emotion, and he clings to his anger to regain momentum.] Why would you ever want that? To put yourself in danger just to get answers? You said yourself that it's stupid, but do you even realize how stupid? What he did- that's not playing the victim! That's a warning, just like he said! So what if he didn't kill Hawkeye? As if that changes anything!? As if that makes what he did better!?

[He falters again, breathless, drained, and inwardly cursing himself, because he knows this is too much- way, way too much. But he can't stop, not now. Not with that fear filling his thoughts, the memory of Teddy, of Hawkeye, the mental image of her strung up and bleeding like that-

-no no no no no no no-]

[ For once, all she wants to do is snap right back at him. She has her reasons. They are personal reasons, not very good reasons, but reasons that are raw and true and he's digging right at them, far more sharply than he realizes.

And she would. Normally. But now she sees -- him, reacting, to an extent that startles her out of whatever retort she'd been building up. She's silent for a second, giving him a somewhat alarmed look, before venturing just one single word somewhat quietly: ]

... Billy?

[One small word, one tone, and Billy looks away, fists still clenched, nails digging into his palms. He doesn't want excuses, or reasoning, or logic. He doesn't want reassurances or arguments. He wants to hear her say she'll stay far, far away from Loki and his knives, or soldiers or villains or- or any kind of danger.

But he knows she's not going to say that. Even if she did, it would just be a placating lie. It's written all over her face.

He tries again, though, one last-ditch effort, his eyes almost begging, his body tense and shaking, his voice tremulous. There's a wound in him, raw and open and still bleeding, trickling into every fiber of his being.]

I don't... want to see someone I care about end up like that. Not... not ever.

[Not again.

IwanthimtostopIwanthimtostopIwanthimtostop]

[ ... ]

Billy, I'm sorry. I can't promise you that. That I won't keep doing this. Anymore than you could promise me you'd give up being a superhero forever.

[ She takes a step closer to him, concern writ large over her features. ]

What aren't you telling me?

[He doesn't want it. He doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to talk about it, he can't do it right now, he can't, not when he's so close he can smell the blood (and the chemicals, and the oil on the blades, but the blood, always the blood) and he's staring at her like a deer caught in headlights, sheer panic, and all his can think is the silently screaming mantra of no, no, no, no.]

... oh my god. Billy.

[ She reaches out, not at all sure of what to do. ]

What's-- I don't-- what's wrong?

Nothing.

[It's harsh, abrupt, his voice somewhat hoarse; his heart's beating so hard he can practically hear it pounding away in his ears. Blood pumping through his veins. Like Teddy's. Like Hawkeye's. Ears that heard everything, every little sound, every gasp and choke and cry but not his voice, never his, never with power-

iwanthimtosleepiwanthimtosleepiwanthimtosleep]

Nothing's wrong.

[He can hear his voice. He can hear it and he's okay. He can talk, he can cast, he can fight if he has to, but he doesn't have to, he has to-

-he has to see Teddy, he has to see Teddy right now-

iwanttogohomeiwanttogohomeiwanttogohome

He lifts his hands, eyes clenching shut, and with a sudden flare of blue energy he's gone, leaving her alone on the path.]

[ She stands there for a long time after he's gone. Horrified beyond words. She gets the sense, somewhere, deep down, that that wasn't entirely her fault; that whatever she just witnessed was actually much bigger than her.

His disappearance leaves her with a sense of pounding panic that she can't do anything about. She wrestles with the urge to immediately go looking for him, because she couldn't find him even if she had powers too, probably; it's likely he doesn't want to be found.

Probably, unfortunately, it only strengthens her resolve, and some of her unhappy bitterness that she never talks about. She just dug up something the teenage superhero can't even talk about without losing it, and she gets to stand here in the middle of nowhere uselessly panicking about it.

It takes her a long time to get home. She doesn't sleep much that night. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[IC] Appointments Post

action, sept 25th; oh lord you unleashed a flood

action, sept 25th; BRING IT

action, sept 25th; I KINDA JUST DID

action, sept 25th; I WANTED TO WAIL AT YOU ON PLURK

action, sept 25th; O O P S

action, sept 25th; ........ /wails

action, sept 25th;

action, sept 25th;