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[Okay, so. Post-draft, he's given himself a few days of seclusion and bed-rest (apparently being infected with a zombie virus is exhausting), and even Billy can freely admit to himself that he's been pretty depressed lately, a fact for which he feels no shame considering that depression was well and truly earned. One can only spend so much time fretting, moping, and dwelling on one's own misery for so long, however, and today? He's decided that enough is enough. Billy will be going out today, limping around the village and visiting the people who were on the draft whose fate he's still uncertain of. The ones he can't find or has no reason to actually visit, he'll check with a light location spell, and he'll spend a few hours at Seventh Heaven people-watching out the window while he doodles in a book that Teddy had given him containing a series of patterns (much like this) that resemble inkblogs, and bit by bit Billy's turning them into something like this instead. It's been a tiring week, though, so you could always catch him napping on the table, instead.

At some point he'll attempt to find Peter, and when both a location spell and a teleport fails, he tries to teleport to the apartment he'd been staying at instead, finding it almost completely emptied. All he manages to dig up is a small cartridge that, after a moment of scrutiny, he identifies as a web fluid cartridge. His fanboyish glee at the discovery is tempered by the fact that the empty apartment means one more piece of bad news.

After his visits and window-watching is done, he'll return home to make the announcement, along with one more message-]

Hey out there... just wanted to let his friends know that Peter Parker went home. So... sorry. Yeah.

[Locked to Loki]

...We still on for tomorrow, or do you want to take a break? Because... you know. [Draft. Awfulness all around. He wouldn't blame Loki if he wanted to take a week off.

Later on in the evening he'll be over at Ben's barbeque, if anyone wants to bother him while he's there.]

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[Locating spells are very specific, Billy's discovered the more he casts them- usually they give him not only a location of where to find the person he's looking for, but it also grants him a mental image of what they're up to. It's worked that way for most of the quick searches he'd done for people today thus far, and Rogue is no different.

Unfortunately.

What greets him as soon as the magical connection is made is a scene out of his nightmares- worse than that, a scene out of their reality, this past week. He sees what he hadn't been awake to witness: a dangerous rescue, a frantic search, a house in the middle of a war zone that he'd asked her to get to, a friend putting her life at risk just because he'd been stupid enough to get trapped in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

There's a flare of instant horror and panic- why was she still there? Was this a memory, was something wrong? Had they somehow been unable to escape? How could he get to them now that he's trapped in Luceti once more? Why weren't they safe? He's almost on his feet and crying out for Teddy when clarity suddenly sets in, and he realizes that the location the spell is giving him is the Battle Dome, not the city in which the draft had taken place.

But why...? Why is she going through that again? Why would anyone want to repeat something so horrible?

He can't bear to stick around and watch more, however, or go there himself to ask- not with the images blending with his own awful memories and threatening to shove him right back into the depression he'd been trying to fend off all day. He cuts off the connection to the spell with a muffled cry, hunching over in his seat and clenching his eyes to try and force the images out of his mind.

He won't go looking for her today.]

[And so it was that the NEXT DAY, Rogue was in the Item Shop, sorting through the double-mess that was The Item Shop At New Feather Season.

Her Mp3 player is currently blaring Metallica.

There is absolutely no way that she will hear the bell over the door.]

[...Well. He knows that she works here, but he doesn't know her hours, and after last time, he hadn't wanted to risk a location spell again. So today he's entering the shop with trepidation, pausing at the door when he sees that it's her on staff. He could pretend that he's here to shop, but... that's not really fair, is it.

She can see him when he approaches or when he's waving a hand in her face, whatever comes first, but either way he's looking to get her attention.]

[Rogue glances up at his approach. She looks him over immediately. The last time she'd seen him, he hadn't looked so good.]

Hey, it's the man himself. You look better.

[She gets a weak smile for that one; he can't tell if she's indulging him or being serious, though he's not sure which prospect is better; he still looks pretty terrible, bruised and awkward and limping around, but then around, compared to how he must have looked while he was infected - going by what he remembered from the others he'd seen or the zombie population themselves... yeah, he can only imagine how he looked a few days ago.]

I should probably be worried by that, but instead I'll just be grateful. And I'm glad you're safe, too.

[She can't quite muster up any genuine cheer for him. Her relief and residual fear and guilt run far too deep.

One hand reaches up, briefly, to rub the area over her heart.]

Yeah. Me too.

[He pauses at that, lips pursed as if debating something, and then just forges ahead. It'll come out sooner or later.

...Baby steps first.]

I was looking for you yesterday, actually. To check in on you.

[Rogue's eyebrows rose.]

You wanna check in on me? Shouldn't that have been my job?

[Mr. I-Was-A-Zombie-And-Survived-And-All-I-Got-Was-This-Lousy-Headache?]

[Believe it or not, Rogue, memory loss causes a lot of worrying.]

Well, more specifically, I wanted to thank you. You're the reason me and Teddy are even alive right now, so... thanks. Really, we owe you one.

[Rogue shook her head.]

I wouldn't have made it on my own.

[Not anywhere near in time.]

It was a team effort.

[She does not accept your thanks. What happened was yours by right, now deal with it. 8|]

And I'm going to thank everyone who helped, when I can. But you're the first.

[He gives her a steady look, scrutinizing her expression.]

You know you saved me, right?

[Eyebrows up.]

Pretty sure you've got the wrong gal. Leastways goin' by the journal, it's this guy who looks kinda like a fish.

He helped make the cure, yeah. I owe him one, too.

[He has a lot of people to thank- he's well aware of that fact.]

But you came to get me, even knowing I'd changed. I could've died if it wasn't for you- and worse, I could've killed Teddy. It's because of you that we both made it back safe.

[Rogue shook her head again.]

I told you - that's what we do.

[X-Men come for their own.

She's just sorry that it hadn't been fast enough.]

...Yeah, about that. I hope you're aware of how much I completely spazzed when you said that. I'm pretty sure Teddy thought I was getting zombified right then and there.

[He pauses, and then adds, somewhat cautiously-]

Seriously, though?

[Her eyebrows went up.]

Seriously what?

[Because she wasn't going to just go talking out of her bum here and there were two things she could think Billy might be referring to.]

You know... [He fidgets, shuffling from one foot to the other again, then finally just blurts it out-] "One of our own"?

[Oh.]

Yeah.

[She gives him a smile that, if she were anyone else, would be accompanied by a hand on his shoulder.

...heck, she does it anyway, if briefly, so it's more of a pat than a hold.]

It's a standin' offer for mutants, ya know. Kinda drafted you, unless ya want out.

[If the touch on his shoulder surprises him, he doesn't let it show; instead, a big smile finally crosses his lips, probably answer enough to the very idea of wanting out.]

Isn't the whole point of a draft that you can't get out of it?

[Rogue propped one hand on her hip and sighed at him in mostly mock exasperation.]

You're gonna argue semantics with me while I'm givin' you a chance ta get out of trainin' sessions with Wolverine?

I like semantics. Semantics are important. And Wolverine is terrifying.

[He shrugs his shoulders, leaning on the counter.]

Seriously though, I'm... honoured, really. I can't deny that the thought's crossed my mind a few times, even back home. The X-Men always seemed like such a tight-knit team... I really admired that.

[She smiles a little, some of that rare softness showing.]

We are. Bein' an X-Man, it's like bein' a family. When the whole world's against you... [She shrugged a little.] ya take what you can get.

[That was, as near as she could pick out from what she'd heard, the main difference between the X-Men, The Fantastic Four, and the Avengers. Everyone still hated and feared mutants. While the other superhero teams were admired.]

Well, I'll take it. Even if it comes hand in hand with training with Wolverine. I won't die horribly, will I?

[Teddy would probably take offense to that. But hey, at least he's had some training already- not like he'll be starting from scratch.

And don't think he didn't see that little softness there, Rogue. HE IS PLEASED.]

If ya do die, it's 'cause it's for your own good. [A short pause.] You can bring Teddy if ya want. [A quick grin.] Heh, an' Tommy. Maybe I'll get a bunch of red bows an' stick 'em on your head. Logan's been goin' stir crazy.

[And one hand came up and rubbed over her heart.]

...Red... bows?

[Should he not ask? That sounds like one of those "I don't want to know" things.

Red bows.

...Oh, right.]

Are we Christmas presents now?

[And what's up with the chest-rubbing? Should he be concerned?]

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