In his room:

[withamagicword]

He sits, not looking at anything, not thinking of anything.

He sits, and tries not to breath in her scent, and see where she has been, to feel the touch of her aura.

Billy sits in his room and sighs, knowing no rest will come for him now. He is tired and the day only seems to go on and on before him.


(ooc: The threads go as follows: Molly, then Rachel, then Stephanie.)

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[futures_of_ash]

And Rachel isn't there. She's on the lake, she usaully is...but there is a Poke.

A bright and flaming Poke!

In the ticklish side of one Billy Batson.

So there.

[withamagicword]

Billy starts and almost falls over, looking up for whatever touched him. His senses are fairly dulled, but he blinks and whispers.

"Rachel?"

[futures_of_ash]

Again with a phantom touch, this time tickling instead of poking. If that isn't enough of an answer, she doesn't know what is.

[withamagicword]

He smiles faintly.

"What are you doing? And for that matter, where are you?"

He looks around and blinks.

[futures_of_ash]

There's the scent and sounds of the lake in answer, physical sensation to over ride his for a moment.

::I'm relaxing dear, you should too::

[withamagicword]

He shivers and then smiles slightly.

"I cant seem to relax much right now. Everything is ... jumbled. I have been sleeping, just... it is either dead asleep or wide awake."

[futures_of_ash]

The tickling shifted to a gentle petting of his hair, warmth spilling along the touch ::Try...don't think, don't worry, just lay down on the floor and listen to me::

[withamagicword]

He blinks for a minuite, then shrugs and lays down, head pillows on a throw pillow. he closes his eyes and nods.

"I will try..."

[futures_of_ash]

::S'all I ask:: she admitted, the warmth spreading until it's almost as if there's someone there beside him.

::Take a deep breath and then pause, count your heartbeats, listen to them, truly listen, hear how it thunders just behind your ears, like a storm, only far sweeter...::

[mollyprewett.livejournal.com]

Maybe Molly can help with that.

She knocks softly on his door, hoping that she is not disturbing him.

She had been so worried for him last night, that she had stayed awake brewing potions for him. She's got a box full of single-use phials of Dreamless Sleep Potion, and two separate jars of salve to try to help with the scarring on his body.

[withamagicword]

Billy blinks back to himself at the knock and starts to his feet. He moves to the door and opens it.

"Hello? Molly? Are you okay?"

[mollyprewett.livejournal.com]

"I'm fine."

She says it with a reassuring smile, and holds up the box she's holding. It's a little larger than a shoebox... she made lots of phials.

"I made some Dreamless Sleep Potion, and some Calming Draught, as well. I made two different types of ointment that might help with the marks on you."

[withamagicword]

He blinks a lot, then waves her into the room. He isnt feeling muhc like company, but she has always been nice. He glances around and then points at the sofa with it's low table in front.

"Ah, would you like to sit? And how do they work?"

[mollyprewett.livejournal.com]

She didn't mean to interupt, or stay long, but she doesn't want to poison him, either. She goes in and takes a seat, but doesn't get too comfortable.

"The ones with the black stoppers in them are Dreamless Sleep Potion. They are single use... so just drink the entire contents of the phial, and it should start to work immediately. You want to make sure you're lying down when you take it."

She holds up the phial to show him which one she means.

"You don't want to take it for more than three nights in a row. We need to dream, even if the dreams aren't pleasant. After three nights, wait at least two more before taking it again. You can safely take it every other night, if you need to, though."

Does someone sound like she's memorized the text book? Well, that would be because she has.

[withamagicword]

He nods, and listens.

"Thank you. I will remember."

Probably.

[mollyprewett.livejournal.com]

"I wrote it down on the lid of the box."

She doesn't want him to forget.

"The ones with the blue stopper are Calming Draught. It does exactly what it sounds like it does. It calms you... a mild sedative, not incapacitating. If you feel yourself starting to get really upset or stressed, take one of these. You can take them as often as every twelve hours. It won't keep you from feeling, but it will help you be a little more...detatched from what's troubling you."

She sets the box down between them, and takes out a small jar of bluish cream, and another of white.

"These are both powerful ointments for you to try on the marks. I don't know if you have any allergies, so it would be best to try it on a small patch of skin first, to see if you have a reaction."

[withamagicword]

He blinks, taking in what he can, and nods.

"Okay. I will try."

he swallows and nods.

"Thsnk you, Molly. A lot."

[alwaysroomforhope]

She had hoped he'd come to see her; she'd looked up each time the infirmary door opened. But he hasn't, so - to the mountain.

The stairs aren't an insurmountable obstacle. She's still tired; there's an ache in her chest that won't seem to go away. (They talked about deep tissue damage, about electricity frying bits of her she doesn't want to know of; all she knows is that it hurts, even now.) But she's capable of running up the stairs almost as fast as ever. That's not why her footsteps are slow.

She knocks, quietly.

[withamagicword]

He starts, glancing up.

Seems as if his door has become more popular now. He hesitantly walks to it and opens it.

His shocks shows on his face as he sees her, and sees her condition..

"Oh my god.... Steph."

He stumbles backwards, his feet going out of him, as tears starts anew and everything, all the emotions, slam back into him.

[alwaysroomforhope]

"Um, hi," she says, giving an awkward little wave. "It looks worse than it is, seriously. Um. Please don't cry?"

[withamagicword]

But it isnt sorrow on his face, it is horror.

"I can never make this up to you, never make it right. Something used me to hurt and almost kill you. I... hurt you."

The plain horror on his face is total.

[alwaysroomforhope]

Steph sighs. "I was afraid you'd feel like that," she says. "Can I come in?"

[withamagicword]

He shifts backwards, slipping up into a chair and nods.

"Sure... I... sure."

He watches her, and there is so much emotion running through him. Hurt and love, fear and sorrow, shame and anger, all running through his mind and probably showing on his face.

[alwaysroomforhope]

She... can't really look at him. Instead, she drops into the chair opposite, still moving a little stiffly - there are bandages visible in the V of her shirt collar - and just sits there for a moment, trying to get her thoughts straight.

[withamagicword]

He winces at the sight of her bandages, his own hands going to tug his shirt sleaves down and hide the scars on his body.

He breathes slowly, watching her, feeling as if he should look away and yet not feeling like he can.

He shuts his eyes for a long moment, trying to just center himself, but he is all too aware of her and of those emotions.