Hi everyone! I am making this a (kind of) role playing blog. Mostly I will be reblogging things and may not post a lot of my work, but I am always looking for new people to write with because I enjoy collaborating with ideas, talking OOC about our characters, meme sharing, shit posting, and creating playlists that coincide with our plots. I am semi-literate to novella as a writer, and I have been writing and growing my writing for the last 14 years. I love writing dead dove, and prefer an angst to romance ratio of about 60-40. I love characters that shouldnโt be together at all and I personally love putting my characters through the wringer to the point they shouldnโt be able to get back up but somehow do. I ask for 19+ writers because I am an adult. I live in CST time zone, and I can get out multiple responses a day depending on how long our threads are. I usually limit my responses to somewhere around 600-2000 words, but anything longer than that gets exhausting to read and then having to reply to it as well? ๐โโ๏ธ Most of the time, I will adapt to what my writing partner gives me as far as responses go. I will include a writing sample below just to show the workings of my writings, but again, I am a semi-lit to novella writer and I would prefer sticking around 600-2000 words. The writing sample is multiple responses combined into one, two part story. Enjoy, and if you would like to write, please like this post or message me.
My fandoms, you ask? () Includes who I write in that fandom.
- Stranger Things (Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove)
โ> would love to cross over RE + ST
-Hannibal (Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter)
โ> Specifically X-Men, Spider-Man, (Venom), (Deadpool)
this is a compression of four pieces of roleplay response into two parts of a โchapterโ of a storyline. Stranger Things x Marvel Crossover. Billy Hargrove being โinfectedโ with the VNM-252 symbiote (Venom).
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐
โโ
๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐: ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐๐๐.
It was an ๐ช๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ช๐ข๐ต๐ฆ thing. The way his brain shifted into something that felt weighted down by the presence of everything. Steveโs kiss. The sand underneath his feet. The water lapping at his ankles. The sun that felt too bright, too hot all of a sudden. Billy was hit with a wave of heat that started in his toes and shot up his calves, his thighs, along his pelvis and into his core, spreading upward and outward into his fingertips, his shoulders, his biceps, and finally along his face. Billy grunted softly against Steveโs lips at the shift of everything, figuring it was just ๐ญ๐ถ๐ด๐ต spiking throughout his body like it had before, enhanced and stupified by having Steve here in his personal environment. California had always felt like it had been crafted specifically to hold Billy Hargrove inside of it. Wide state lines that were far from the coastlines and other states. Open ocean that he could spend hours in that never ended as far as he swam out into it before fatigue brought him back. Waves that barricaded Billy from floating out too far when he had decided that life needed to stop if only for him to float along the waves instead of being dragged underneath him. There was plenty of room to run, plenty of room to live. And unlike Hawkins, California made Billy feel alive in ways he hadnโt really registered until Steve leaned into him like he was his own personal lifeline amidst the waves crashing against the shore.
โจIt made everything feel more intense.
Billy tilted his head to deepen the kiss as Steveโs hands slid up to his shoulders, carefully navigating them backwards into deeper waters. His hands slid down to rest against his hips, squeezing and pulling him inward towards the pit that craved every inch of Steve. Mind, body, soulโ Billy wanted all of it, and always had. The waves splashed up against him, soaking through his shorts and crashing against his solid frame. The water cooled him off immediately, all the nerve that was spiking within his body slowly dwindling into something more manageable. Warmth was replaced with coolness, and Billyโs thoughts cleared as much as they possibly could with Steveโs mouth on his own. The kiss broke, eventually, as it usually did when Steve needed a breathโ and Steve inched backwards, out of Billyโs space, into the depths of the crystalline blue waters that matched the aquamarine shades that danced around in Billyโs hues. He smiled slightly as he watched Steve drift off into the ocean just a few feet ahead, his face soaking in all of the salt, the sunlight, water shining on his features like it had been there all his life. Steve looked gorgeous like thisโ bright and alive, happy and free. He deserved this far sooner. He deserved the trips around the world that his parents had slacked on. He deserved this life, where he could be happy and carefree and just. . . ๐๐น๐ช๐ด๐ต.
Something blocked Billyโs thoughts from shifting further ahead. He squinted slightly, struggling to focus his gaze on Steve as he floated in the water. Heat came back again. ๐๐ช๐ฆ๐ณ๐ค๐ฆ๐ญ๐บ. It started in the crown of his head and shot back down all those familiar places on its way back to his feet, the water suddenly feeling like it was broiling around him. Billy shook it off, lifting a hand up to rub at his eyes, attempting to clear his vision. He huffed in frustration when pressing his fingers against his eyelids only resulted in stars but didnโt help clear up ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. Not until Steve drifted closer to him, fingers lightly brushing against the knuckles of his left hand. It felt like a headache was starting to creep into the confines of his skull. Slow, meticulous, starting at the base of his skull and sliding upwards and around behind his eyes. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต was what made him nauseous. Not the heat. Not the waves that sloshed against him, inviting him to tread deeper into the water that would consume him whole. His features twitched slightly, eyebrows slowly knitting together as he rubbed at his face in attempts to make ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ go away. The nausea. The headache. The warmth that felt like too much, blossoming in his chest and scouring through his muscles. His hand moved away from his face, and he blinked quickly to try to clear out the stars in his vision, making out the shape of Steve floating in the water in front of him but unable to make out the ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ต๐ข๐ช๐ญ๐ด.
โ๐ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฉ. . .โ Billy muttered in response, half-able to process what Steve said. The roar of the ocean felt too loud. Too much noise. All of it cramming into Billyโs skull like the entire Pacific Ocean existed inside his head instead of stretching out for nautical miles in front of him. He grimaced slightly, hues latching onto empty space in the waves, attempting to squint and blink his way to clarity with something that was moving. ๐๐ข๐ฅ ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ข. Billy breathed out a low, rugged whine when his stomach churned into oblivion, eyes squeezing shut again after glaring up at the clouds, mentally cursing the sun for being ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ. Maybe he was out of touch with California after two years. Maybe the direct sunlight was too much for him after spending days alternating between driving and being knocked out on painkillers. โ๐๐ต-๐๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ, ๐ . . . ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ,โ Billy managed to get out, despite the words feeling like they were scraping through sandpaper as they left his throat, tangling on his tongue and coming out slurred despite not having a drop of alcohol in his system. ๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ต. The realization came suddenly, cruelly. Billy felt like he was going to throw up right then and there. ๐๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ถ๐ฏ๐ญ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต.
Steve swam closer to him, but Billy hardly registered it. The world was closing in fast around him. Flashes of bright white light followed periods of brief darkness when he blinked, but Billyโs hues couldnโt focus on anything whether it was yards away or right up in front of him. His shoulders curved inward like they typically did when they were bracing for impact. When he was bracing for ๐๐ฆ๐ช๐ญ. Steve had always been a slow and pleasant weight pressed onto his shoulders, and he hadnโt flinched in ๐ฅ๐ข๐บ๐ด when Steve came near himโ but the flinch this time was more than involuntary. More than bracing for Neil. Billy was bracing for the entire universe to come rocking into him all at once, only he didnโt even know it. Steveโs voice distorted as it came into his senses, all twisted syllables and slurred vowels. Billy attempted to furrow his eyebrows together again, attempted to comprehend what was said; but it was all lost. Lost in the crashing of the waves in his skull. Lost in the heat that burned his skin. Lost in the fever that spiked throughout his body.
๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด. The thought was the only constant thing that raveled around in Billyโs head as Steve struggled to pull him back towards the shore. His legs refused to cooperate in tandem with Steveโs as they trekked up the beach. Another wave of nausea hit Billy, and he collapsed against the bench that Steve had set him down on. Seconds blurred into hours, it felt like, and when Steve hoisted him to his feet againโ despite broken ribs, despite the strain that had to have been ripping through his bodyโ Billy just grunted, leaning all of his weight into Steve like it was a personal lever that dragged him through the sand. ๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด. Billy winced when he was tugged into the hotel lobby, air conditioning blasting him right in the face, chilling the ocean-soaked clothes on his body right to the bone. He leaned into Steve for support, hues dancing frantically around the hotel lobby that suddenly seemed unfamiliar. Like a threat. Steveโs voice sounded miles away, and by the time his words got to Billy, they might as well have been in a foreign language. ๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด. They were in the hotel room, but Billy couldnโt focus on anything around him. Steveโs fingers grazed against his body as he changed him out of his soaked clothes, but it felt numbโ like a whisper of a touch, and Billy whined at it when the mild heat of Steveโs hands left him curled over in the bed of the hotel. ๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด. Pills slid down his throat, but Billy didnโt feel them. Didnโt register that it was the painkillers prescribed to aid in the healing process of the bones that Neil had broken during his assault seven days ago. All Billy registered was the warmth of the hotel sheets as his eyes slid shut, body going stock-still on top of the mattress, curled tightly around Steveโs frame as his body gave up entirely to the narcotics. ๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด. Sleep.
Lightening shot through the sky. Bright. Red. Dangerous. Color flooded through his dream, crimson and deep violet. The house. Billyโs house. The Hargrove house, back in Hawkins. Billy was stood in front of it, the thunder rumbling in the distance so hard that he could feel it trembling in his bones. His Camaro was cranked and running beside the house, headlights shining through intricate vines that nearly blocked off the glow of the headlamps. Billy breathed in slowly, smelling nothing but rot. Decay. Lightening cracked through the sky again, the front door of the house swinging open slowly. A creak crackling through the neighborhood like a gunshot, an ominous red glow inviting Billy forward, inward. His feet shuffled slowly, like he was being pushed without his consent, against his permission towards the door. Billy blinked, looking around, waiting for the rain to fall from the sky. The air felt thick with it. Humidity with no wetness. Dryness creeping through his throat, unable to be swallowed down with his nerves. Billyโs feet picked up the pace, guiding him into the house.
The floorboards of the foyer squeaked underneath his boots, and Billy looked down at them, seeing black streaks scraped across the floor like a large monster had dragged its claws straight through the floorboard. It didnโt shift when Billy brushed his boot over it, but instead smudged away. The living room was too dark when he crossed into it, though the sun seemed to be shining in from the window by the entry way. Billy had just been outside and knew that wasnโt the case. The overhead light flickered on, and he turned right when he heard the floorboards shuffle again underneath weight that was not his own. Neil stood there, a beer bottle gripped tightly in his hand. Tight enough that his knuckles were white. Tight enough that Billy could see the veins popping out in his handsโ smudged black, just like the smears on the floor. Just like the vines that covered his Camaro outside, choking out the purr of its motor. Billy squinted slightly, tilting his head to the side as he caught Neilโs faceโ only it wasnโt Neilโs ๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ฆ, merely just a smudge of it. Like someone had pressed a paintbrush against his features and swiped quickly to the side, creating a disorienting splotch that should have been where Neilโs face was.
โ๐ ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ. ๐๐จ๐ข๐ช๐ฏ.โ
Billy flinched slightly, shoulders drawing in on themselves. Tension crept up his spine, fear sliding down it, the two meeting in the middle with a piercing knot that made it feel like a knife had been dug into his back.
โI. . . Got caught up at the quarry. I didnโt mean to be late. I didnโt know how long the drive would beโโ
โ๐ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฅ๐ช๐ด๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ฆ. ๐ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ. ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ด๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐จ๐ข๐ช๐ฏ? ๐๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ง๐ง ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ด๐ด๐ผ๐ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐บ๐ง๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ด?โ
Billyโs nostrils flared, heat spiking in his chest only to disappear again with that same chill that rocked through his core. Everything felt too cold. Too instantly. Like he had been plunged down into an ice bath against his will, shards of cold slicing through his skin and stabbing into all of his vital organs. Billy let out a breath, the very gust of it coming out in a fog once it left his lips. So it wasnโt just Billy that was coldโ the room itself was cold, in the dead of summer, while a storm brewed right outside the front door.
In his sleep, his breaths grew shorter. More rapid. Chest heaving hard, sweat starting to form on his forehead. Lungs overworking themselves until he started hyperventilating.
The tension coiled tight around his gut, painfully so, making him wince and lead forward in an attempt to double over in pain. Neil didnโt move. He just stared. Like a hawk. Watching whatever was swarming within Billy tear him apart.
โ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ฉ๐บ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐บ.โ
The words sliced through the air like daggers, Billyโs eyes going wide as they detonated in his chest. They took the breath out of him. Tears sprung in his eyes almost immediately as he fought to use his voice. โ๐๐ฐ!โ He screamed, but the noise came out cracked, fragile, buried underneath the sand and unable to be heard from the surface.
โ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ, ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ.โ
Billyโs right eye twitched, a sharp pulse hitting him like a warning jab right behind his eye. His fingers twitched towards his temple, but something forced them down. Billy let out a sharp gasp, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could will the pain of it away.
A scream left his throat, loud and vibrant in the hotel room. Not in the dream. But echoing out of Billyโs throat, physical and real, piercing through the silence of the room.
โ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ตโ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ. ๐๐ข๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ณ๐ข๐ด๐ฉ. ๐๐ฉ๐บ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ถ๐ฏ? ๐๐ฉ๐บ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ฑ ๐ค๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏโ ๐ฃ๐ช๐ต๐ค๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ง๐ง ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ?โ
The pressure in Billyโs skull grew more unbearableโ like a headache, sprawling all over his scalp, pressure pressing hard enough against his eyes that he feared they would pop out. โSt-Stop. . .โ He whimpered, jaw clenching so tight that his teeth hurt.
Billyโs body shook violently beside Steve in the room. The pain broke through the barriers of the dream, aching physically in his body. A migraine that felt like he had been shot point-blank to the head. Muscles tensed so hard that his veins became visible.
โ๐ ๐ข๐ด๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐๐ข๐น๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ด๐บ ๐ณ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ง๐ง ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ณ๐ช๐ค๐ฉ ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐บ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ด๐ฏ๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ.โโจโจThunder boomed outside of the window again, shaking the walls of the house, the windows rattling stubbornly in response.
Other voices started to swirl around in his perception. Neilโs. Susanโs. Maxโs. Robinโs. Eddie Munson. Tommy Hagan. ๐๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฏ.
โ๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ณ๐จ๐บ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ณ๐ข๐ช๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐บ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ญ๐ญ๐ด๐ฉ๐ช๐ต. ๐ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ.โโจโจโ๐๐ช๐ญ๐ญ๐บ, ๐ธ๐ฉ๐บ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ? ๐๐ฉ๐บ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ข๐ฑ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ข๐ต ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ป๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ฎ๐ฆ? ๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ช๐ญ ๐ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ?โ
โ๐๐ช๐ญ๐ญ๐บ, ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฎ! ๐ ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐๐ฟ๐๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐บ๐ฒ!โ
โ๐๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฆ๐ณ๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ.โ
โ๐๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฑ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ค๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ญ ๐จ๐ช๐ณ๐ญ๐ด ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐น ๐ข๐ฅ๐ถ๐ญ๐ต ๐ง๐ถ๐ฏ?โ
โ๐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ฆ!โ
โ๐โ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฏ. ๐โ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ง๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐โ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ญ๐ญ ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ช๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ.โ
โ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ.โ
โ๐ ๐ฑ๐ผ๐ปโ๐ ๐น๐ผ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ผ๐ ๐ฎ๐ป๐๐บ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ฒ.โ
โ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ฉ๐บ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ
โฮน โฯฮท'ั โฯฮฝั ัฯฯ
ฮฑฮทัะผฯัั.โ
โ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ, ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ.โ
โ๐ ๐๐ค๐ฃ'๐ฉ ๐ก๐ค๐ซ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ข๐ค๐ง๐.โ
โ.สษสs ส,upฤฑp ษนวษฅสoษฏ ษนnoส สษฅส sฤฑ sฤฑษฅโฅโ
โะฒฮนโโั ัฯฯ
'ัั ะฝฯ
ััฮนฮทg ะผั!โ
โ๐๐พ๐น ๐๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐ ๐ถ๐น๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐?โ
โ๏ผฉใ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ผ๏ฝใ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ
ใ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝใ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ
. . .โ
โ๐๐ถ๐น๐น๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ด๐ฟ๐ผ๐๐ฒ. . .โ
A voice that wasnโt Neilโs shrouded inside Billyโs head, placing a veil between Billy and the outside worldโ or what part of it existed in his dream. It was deep. Confident. Rough around the edges, gruff in its core. One that Billy didnโt recognize nor want to know the person it belonged to.
โ๐๐น๐น ๐๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ป. . .
๐๐น๐น ๐๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐บ๐ถ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐. . .
๐ช๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ป ๐บ๐ฎ๐ธ๐ฒ ๐ถ๐ ๐ด๐ผ ๐ฎ๐๐ฎ๐, ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฟ๐ถ๐ฐ๐ฒ. . .โ
The pain in Billyโs head capsized, blooming down his body and rocking throughout his limbs. His knees buckled outward, bending, sending him down to the floor where his hands braced himself against the vines. And ๐๐ฐ๐ฅ, he broke. He broke because it was easy. He broke because it was a simple remedy. โ๐๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ. . .โ
In the real world, Billyโs hands had curled tight into his hair, pulling, pulling hard, like he was attempting to rip the pain right out of his skull with all his might.
โ๐๐ฟ๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐ต๐ถ๐บ ๐๐ผ ๐๐. . .โโจโจโ๐๐ !โ Billy shot up directly in the bed, eyes flying open and frantically shooting around the room. His heart was beating ninety miles a minute, sweat coating his body, his shirt sticking to a wet spot against his skin. He felt hot all over, like he had been sweating out a fever; pupils expanded wide enough to let in all the blinding light of the measly bedside lamp. He scrambled back towards the headboard, tucking his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly against his ribsโ so tight that it made the fractures ache, so tight that his arm ๐ด๐ค๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฅ at the misuse of broken bone. Billyโs eyes caught Steve in a millisecond too late, an ugly sob ripping out of his chest as tears spilled down his face. The realization hit. ๐ช๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ. None of it was real. Wasnโt it? No one was in the room with them. Neil, Susan, Max, Eddie, Tommy, Robinโ all gone within the blink of an eye, and all that remained was Steve, who hovered restlessly near him, the worry etched on his face lost in the darkness that came when Billy pressed his face into his knees hard enough to block out ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.
๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ.
He let out a broken whimper, his body shaking with the force of the sob. ๐๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ญ๐ต ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ. All of it. Real enough that Billy could still feel the jabs behind his eyes. Real enough that he could still hear the voices circling around in his head. Real enough that the heat of Neilโs hands felt real around his throat even though Neil ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ in the dream. Real enough that the heat spread everywhere, rough and raw and nauseating all at once. Billyโs stomach churned harshly, his face going pale almost immediately. Steve said something to him but it didnโt register because Billy was rushing to his feet, to the bathroom, chest heaving with heat and what Billy could only describe as agony. Pain. Fear. Vibrating under his skin, shaking underneath his ribs, his heartbeat so loud and frantic that it burned into the way he coiled over the toilet in the bathroom with a sharp wheeze, dry heaving. Attempting to cough it out. Whatever it was. The dream. The voices. The twisting agony that sprouted in his chest and made him feel disoriented. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ช๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด.
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐
โโ
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
Billy felt hot. Abnormally hot. Like the Californian sun had injected itself directly into his veins, withering him away from the inside out. All of his senses had gone haywire: his skin was burning up, but Billy felt chills crash through his insides like a cold front moving in throughout him; the lights were too bright, too disorienting, blinding and callous to the way that his head pounded; Billy could hear everything all at once. The waves crashing on the shoreline. The TV from the next room, and the room across from that, and an argument stemming from the hotel two blocks down the street. His body curled over the toilet, hands squeezing tightly around the porcelain in a way that made his knuckles too tight, too white, skin splitting around the injuries that came from fighting with Neil, with Tommy. Old wounds resurfacing. Reopening. Billy whined sharply into the bowl of the toilet between retches of his diaphragm, jaw clenching so tightly he swore he could hear his teeth cracking in two. Everything that was going on was agonizing. Sight, sensation, even the distortion of sound made his head pound like his skull was about to split wide open. Steve was there. A warmth in the center of his back. Between his shoulders. Traveling into his head via his ears, soft murmurs and concern all the more disorienting as Billy stared blindly at the wall behind the toilet. Trying to follow his voice. Trying to find him when all else failed. His safe place. His lover. His fiancรฉ. His home. But Billy was still stuck in some unknown space between dream and reality, had to be, another scream howling through his body before it lurched forward into another round of dry heaves.
I donโt love you anymore.
The thought went off like an explosion in Billyโs head, and his hands gripped so tight around the porcelain of the toilet that it snapped in his grip. A groan ripped through his chest, all agony and heartbreak as he coughed up blood into the toilet. It spattered against the white ceramic and strangely enough, nothing else came up out of Billyโs stomach. Just blood. His head lulled forward, forehead pressing hard against the lip of the toilet. Too heavy to keep up. And Billy was far too exhausted already to fight against it. His cries grew weaker as his body curved in on itself. โ๐๐ญ-๐๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ. . .โ He choked out amidst his gasps for air, spine straightening again as his body lurched forward again, another heave, more agony, more nothing coming up into the toilet. It was like every hangover he had ever had in his life had multiplied itself by a hundred, wrecking through his body without remorse. And Billy truly would have believed that if it wasnโt for the fire that shot through his veins. Twisting around the tunnels of them, penetrating through bone and tissue like something was alive underneath his skin. I donโt love you anymore. Steveโs voice ricocheted in his head, bouncing around at a velocity that brought a pain that Billy was so sure was about to kill him. His body shuddered viciously. Fingers squeezed and released around the toilet. His hair had become so damp with sweat that it frizzed where it wasnโt sticking desperately to his forehead and the nape of his neck. Steve spoke again, but Billy growled at him this timeโ low, reverent, not at all in a way that sounded playful or flirty like it usually did. This one came out more pointed and sharp like that of a tiger honing in on its prey.
โ๐๐ฉ๐ถ๐ต ๐ถ๐ฑโ ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ด๐ฉ๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ถ๐ฑโโ Billy spoke, clear and concise, the tones of his voice swept up by rugged baritones and harsh monotones. Not at all his voice. But what was his voice was the whimper that left him shortly after, his body trembling as he leaned back against the heat of Steveโs body. Billyโs head fell back uselessly against his shoulder, pulse jumping wildly in slickened black streaks that popped up throughout his throat, traveling down his throat and branching into his biceps. Slithering through his veins. The lights were too bright. His eyes opened slowly, all bloodshot and wrecked. Oceanic hues flashed briefly. His pupils split in two. An eerie, blinding shade of white coated his pupils and irises before shifting into darker shades of blue, then red, then black before Billy squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to plant his face against Steveโs chest. And then. . . The pain slowly receded. For a single moment, Billy felt like he had full control of his body again. His hands trembled as they reached for Steveโs shirt. His fingers curled tightly in the fabric, an exhausted wheeze leaving his diaphragm. It hurt. Everywhere. โIโm sss-sorryโโ he whispered, like if he spoke any louder that. . . Thing would come back for him. The thing in his dreams. The thing in his veins. The thing he didnโt quite have a name for. Billy only knew it as pain. Exhausting, demanding agony that had crushed him down into bits of raw, vulnerable pieces. Billyโs body shook with the same violence that it had in the bed, only it was more controlled now. Muscles tensing and flexing before returning to normal again.
The worst of it seemed to be over.
Billy slowly started to drift off to sleep. In and out.
It was too much for him to process. The bulk of it all. The pain of it all.
Thirty minutes passed, and he focused tiredly on his breathing. The rapid rise and fall of his chest. The way he panted against Steveโs chest. An hour. An hour and a half. Two hours. Wasted in the bathroom floor, alternating between fighting against staying awake to brace for impact and giving into whatever it was that was wrecking through his body.
And right when he lulled into the first few stages of deeper sleep, the pins and needles of it struck up again. The floor felt too hard underneath him at first. Steveโs body felt too hot at all the points of contact. His heartbeat was too loud in Billyโs ears. Billy whined as nausea slowly crept back in, his fingers tightening enough in Steveโs shirt to tear through the fabric. His heart rate picked up. His chest heaved. Billyโs eyes rolled, his head lurching backwards as another agonizing wave ripped through him, a cracked howl scraping through his throat as he sobbed through it. Steveโs heart was too loud. His presence too close. His warmth too hot. Billy was too much. The floor was too hard. The lights were too bright. The pain jabbed sharply behind his eyes again, and Billy sobbed out in response to it, skin flushing dark all over for a millisecond before reverting back to the cherry hue that radiated from his heated skin. His clothes stuck to his sweaty skin like glue, and Billyโs hands fought weakly in attempts to peel his shirt off. Too many layers. Steveโs heartbeat was too loud. His heat was too hot. The floor was too hard.
Billy shot up again, teeth grit together as he leaned over the toilet again. Hands gripping the porcelain tightly. Arms hugging the bowl of the toilet. Desperate for anything that would cool him off. โ๐๐ต'๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ต,โ Billy moaned, his voice entirely wrecked from the screams. Wrecked from fighting against whatever was trying to take over his body. It felt like an out of body experience entirely. Like he was supposed to be asleep in the bed, but instead he was in the bathroom, watching himself deteriorate.
Time warped itself in and around inside of Billyโs head. Memories flooded through like they were files being picked through, one by one, from his earliest memories of being on the beach with his mother to traveling to California. Like something was trying to flick through them and figure out what was important and what wasnโt. Billy groaned into the bend of his elbow as it brought slow waves of pain with itโ not like what was spiraling through his veins like a scorching fire, but something more similar to a slow, docile wave pattern. Controlled. Intricate. Meticulous. Billy thought he was ๐ฅ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. Because that was what happened, right? Narrowing light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, the entirety of his life playing behind his closed eyelids. California beaches. The death of his mother. Meeting Max and meeting Susan. Detesting them both because he was only fourteen, rebellious, and not ready to move on from his motherโs death in the ways that his father was. Because four years was not long enough for him to get used to the cycle of abuse when there was no one else there to shield him from it. When bruised cheeks turned into broken skin, and when broken skin turned into that first broken bone. ๐๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ง๐ง ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฃ๐ช๐ค๐บ๐ค๐ญ๐ฆ. The echo of Neilโs lie in his head made his stomach turn again, and Billy retched forward harshly against the bowl of the toilet. So hard that he lost conciousness, if only for a brief few seconds.
Because when, whatever it was that was carving its way through Billyโs system was done with his memories, the pressure shifted lower. Sliding down behind his eyes, the stabbing behind them so wildly intense that it woke Billy up ๐ข๐จ๐ข๐ช๐ฏ right when Steve had worked his arms underneath his body to hoist him up. Billy groaned weakly at the staggering environment, the room spinning around him when he attempted to crack his eyes open to see. Everything was blurred. Twos, threes, foursโ Billy saw what four people would see if all of their vision was lined up side by side. His eyes squeezed shut again when Steve placed him down in the bathtub, the ceramic of it hardly enough to cool the fever spiked in his skin. There were voices. Muffled, but there. Steve. Max. The distant sound of other people talking, arguing, concern in tone that stretched through the light in the bathroom. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต'๐ด ๐จ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ฏ? ๐๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ค๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ช๐ค๐ฆ? Billy grunted, his eyes rolling slow behind his closed eyelids. Cold water surged around him, and it turned to boiling almost immediately, steam rising in the air like someone had just thrown smelted iron into the bathtub to cool it off. Bubbles raised from underneath his body. Billy didnโt have it in him to fight. Didnโt have it in him to surge out of the bathtub like the water had personally offended him with its cold spiking into heat at a rate so fast it made his head spin. All he did was ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด๐ด, the noise coming out distorted and snake-like.
The ice bath did nothing to stop his fever from desecrating through his body. Steve and Max dumped in bucketfuls of ice that splashed around Billyโs frame, melting too quick in between trips to the ice machine and back. They eventually caught up, however, and ice started to float around Billy. Drifting in the water like it was on a wave itself. Everything suddenly got quiet. ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ quiet. Billy whimpered at that, unable to trust the silence. Unable to trust the light when he opened his eyes. Unable to trust ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.
And all too suddenly, within the blink of an eye, the pressure came back again. Hard. Sharp. Resilient. It didnโt start slow. It ๐ค๐ญ๐ข๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฅ, the tearing in his gumline a pain so intense that Billyโs screams pierced through the air, cold and merciless as they scraped through his wrecked throat. His voice was shredded. Raw. Cracking around the edges as blood pooled in his mouth, pouring down his chin. Serrated edges pierced through his gums on the front side of his teeth. Slicing through the delicate tissue. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ฑ. Billyโs tongue caught against one of them, the jagged edge of it slicing a thin line into his tongue while his hands reached up to cradle his mouth. It was like his entire jaw was reworking itself for a whole new set of teeth to grow in, and every second of it was agonizing torment. Blood cascaded down from his mouth, hot and sticky between his fingers as each shark-like tooth poked through his gumline, one by one, forming in front of his inciscors and edging through the tissue all the way back to his molars. Billy squeezed his eyes shut so tightly all he could see was white light. And suddenly, all of the broken bones didnโt matter anymore. All of the trauma he had endured didnโt matter. ๐๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ except the pain, raw and searing and distorting everything that Billy knew.
His pulse jumped wildly underneath his skin, blackened veins throbbing with new life. Billy heard a noise in his head that was distinct from the pressure. Distinct from the pain. Distinct from the sound of his heart pounding. Distinct from the rearranging of his teeth and whatever the hell it was cutting through skin and reshaping itself a new home. ๐ ๐จ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ญ. Coming from ๐ช๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ. A hefty purr that seemed to echo down his throat and vibrate between his ribs. Whatever was inside him was ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ off of him. Soaking in the blood as it pooled in Billyโs mouth, preventing more of it from sliding down his face and dripping into the water where it diluted into something nonconsumable. Billyโs body gave up the fight. Gave in to the pain that capsized everything he knew, erased every bit of narcotic that his stomach had started to digest. His vision went black, and his body went slack, sinking into the ice water.
Everything was cold for a while. Peaceful. Billy didnโt feel anything anymore when he succumbed to the darkness. His heart still thudded sporadically, blood and ooze coursing through his veins like they were a race track. Whatever was inside him was making a ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ. Tearing down the ceiling and knocking down the walls to make Billyโs body a suitable living condition. Billy didnโt register it. He didnโt register anything, from the sound of Maxโs voice and Steveโs sobs to the continuous pops of his gumline as teeth continued to push through, blood soaked right back up into his gumline. They pushed. And pushed. ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฅ. Billyโs jaw visibly grew wider from the outside, just brieflyโ because as soon as the last serrated fang popped through the surface of his gums, they all receded right back up into his gumline, leaving him bare and vulnerable all over again. Except for a set of two, up front, incisors remaining sharped. Prime. Ready. Inevitably hungry and ready to tear into flesh and bone alike. The heat from the burning clothes seared into Billyโs skin, and the blackness underneath his flesh reacted _violently_, quickly moving to the point of damage to repair the skin as rapidly as it burned. Whatever was inside of him, it screamedโ buried underneath the surface, echoing ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ญ๐บ in Billyโs head, informing him of danger that he couldnโt see. Billy was blind to the world. Unconscious. Seemingly dead.
Dead in the ways his body went slack in Steveโs arms. Dead in the way he fell with gravity when Steve lunged over him to put out the fire that licked up his calves. Dead in the way that made him oblivious to the way that Max screamed when Steve struck her, all frantic and panicked and ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. Billy felt death curl around his insides. Cold and intense but warm and inviting all at the same time. But he didnโt react violently. Not to the death. Not to Steve wrapping around him like his own personal shield. Not to Max, who fought with fire and scalding hot water that burned through his flesh. Because the ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ recognized both of the individuals in the room with its habitat. Memories flooded by; of Steve, of Max, and the pitch darkness that resided itself in Billyโs veins recognized them as friends instead of foes. Family. People that Billy put his life on the line to protect. Faces that it recognized from filtering through Billyโs memories. Constant faces. The two more than anyone else, especially in the last few days. It ignored the methods Max used to try to destroy its vessel and kept working. Because it ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ธ . It knew that Steve would sacrifice if it meant keeping the host safe. It cataloged the way that Steveโs heart beat in his chest from Billyโs memory alone. ๐๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ด. Attached to each other so intensely that even the explosion of the stars would not erase their bond. It was a connection more intense than its previous host had. It would leave them alone.
Something twitched in Billyโs features, life becoming evident due to the brief break in pain when the thing settled. Just enough for his eyes to roll slightly behind his eyelids again. He made a noise.
โ๐๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ. . .โ
It came out in a broken wheeze, his voice destroyed around the edges, following a twitch of his eyebrows before his features went stoic again. Billyโs breathing steadied into something shallow, barely noticeable. He slipped back under, the inhabitant of his body gracing him consciousness just long enough to make this ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ for Billyโs mate. Because Billyโs eyes fluttered slightly, double-pupils and shiny hues focusing in the light for just a second before they flashed a solid white again and slid shut. And that was the way the next few hours went. A slow cycle of bones shifting and popping underneath the skin, raising abnormally in places that were carved with hard muscle and straight lines into sharp points before sinking back into place again firmly. A veil had been placed over Billyโs subconscious during this, severing his neurotransmitters from the rest of his central nervous system. ๐๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. He didnโt feel the way the bones in his broken arm cracked more severely before a sickly snap echoed in the air as the blackness in his veins popped the bone back into place. Billy didnโt scream. Didnโt gasp. Didnโt even budge when the bone shifted and rotated back into its normal position.
It was the same for the fractures in his ribs. Something moved underneath his skin like it was alive, soaking its way around the splits in bone and settling down until the fragments fuzed back together. The substance went throughout his body, mending and healing affected areas that Billy didnโt even know existed anymore. A hairline fracture in his jaw from a childhood fight. A chip in the bone of his shoulder where Neil had shoved him into the wall hard enough to break the drywall. All the tears and splits in his knuckles from fighting throughout his life just to have the upper hand in ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ โ the ooze healed it all, piece by piece, targeting all two hundred and six bones that Billy had. Bruises disappeared from his sun-kissed skin like they had never existed there in the first place. Deep lacerations that existed underneath the surface of his skin from where Neil had shoved him down the stairs at Steveโs house sealing back together in an impossible rate, something abnormal, something inhuman. A heavy sigh would occasionally leave Billyโs diaphragm as his skin distorted in impossible angles while the inspection of his insides unfolded. And it finally stoppedโ all of it, the growing of teeth, the swarming underneath Billyโs skin, the way his eyes would roll in different shades of aquamarines and crimsons and whitesโ all of it ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฅ. Sudden and certain.
Billy woke up ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ด later, a pounding ache in his head like he had tripped and fallen directly onto it. His body felt stiff from where he had been laying in the bathtub for most of the night; legs cramped up awkwardly underneath Steveโs frame. The boy rested against his chest, features scrunched together tight with worry despite clearly being out of it. His face was splotchy like he had been cryingโ like heโd been fighting for his life, or perhaps for someone elseโs. Billyโs senses were ๐ด๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ฑ: he smelled first, the scorched dermis layer of skin that was somewhere near him, somewhere close. His hues tracked the way that Steveโs pulse thrummed slowly and calmly while he slept; but it wasnโt visible before, when Billy would just ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ at him. Now? Billy could see the slightest murmur in his pulse. He could ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ it, amidst the conversations happening in the hotel rooms around them, the TVs that were cranked up loud enough to be heard over the early morning Santa Monica traffic. Billy grunted softly, swallowing down the rasp in his throat as he lifted his hand up to rub at his face. โ๐๐ฎ๐ฏ๐จ๐ฉ. . .โ He moaned, low and shaky, blinking as his vision shifted to the environment around him.
The bathroom. Blood on the floor. On the wall. In the shower. Painted on his chest and staining Steveโs shirt. The broken toilet. The sunlight that peeked in through the crack between the bathroom door and the doorframe. Too bright to look at directly, like Billy had just woken up after a decadeโs worth of sleep. He lifted his hand up to rest against Steveโs back, between his shoulders, noting that there was no tug or strain in his forearm anymore. Billyโs hues shifted to where he knew the bruises from the break in his bone were ๐ด๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฅ to be, and he was extremely confused to find that his skin was clear. No bruises. No awkward bumps where broken bone threatened to push out. He squinted slightly, entirely confused. It didnโt make sense. Why the hell were they sleeping in the bathtub? Why was there blood everywhere? Why did Billy smell a million different things at once? ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฎ? What happened to the bathroom? What happened to ๐ฆ๐๐ฒ๐๐ฒ? โ๐๐ต-๐๐ต๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ,โ Billy started, his voice cracking slightly from the misuse of it. He shifted to sit up, waking Steve in the process, planting his face against the curve of Steveโs shoulder in attempts to block out part of his senses. ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ. ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต. ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฅ. โIโm so fucking hungover,โ Billy muttered, exhaling shakily.
