The Starcourt Mall went up in a 'fire'. Good riddance, in Jim's opinion, and that's not just because of the Russians, or the bad memories associated with the place that would've made it an eyesore from hereon out. He liked Hawkins the way it was: small and humble. Supposed progress comes for all of them, but this sure set the invasion back a while longer. Either way, everyone did who survive the incident was goddamn lucky to have stepped out of that building when they did. Vicious Russian soldiers and a 30 foot flesh monster make for one hell of a dangerous situation, and if it'd been up to him, the kids wouldn't have been there at all. They would've gone to Murray's and stayed there. All the injuries suffered from that point on are on him, because he hadn't thought to stay above ground until all the kids had actually left.
Eleven and all her friends could've died, all while Jim was busy far below their feet.
Mind, Jim could've died too. It was a real close shave, but he'd managed to escape a big Russian brute and dive into the control room just before Joyce flipped the keys to shut the gate. The resulting explosion was so bad, he was sure the whole place might've caved in on them, and any living being caught in the blast radius was instantly obliterated- those unlucky bastards. Jim's just glad he's not one of them. Leave it to Owens to then show up ten minutes late. Somehow, it's always damage control with those guys, never preventing the damage in the first place.
Almost thirty people died in the supposed mall fire, but none of Jim's loved ones were among them, and he knows he has someone to thank for that. The kids had told him everything about their confrontation with the 'Mind Flayer' (another ridiculous name in his opinion, but it's not like 'flesh and bone splinter spider monster' is any better) and who'd eventually stepped in to shield them from harm. He knows Billy Hargrove, of course. Pulled him over more than once for speeding through the streets of Hawkins like a maniac. Jim's willing to forgive all that, because a little bit of minor lawbreaking is dwarfed by the gesture of fighting one's way out of a mindfuck monster's hold to protect his daughter and her friend. There's a whole lot of selflessness needed to accept the kind of blows that Billy took that night. Besides, if Jim and Joyce had managed to close the gate just a little faster, Billy wouldn't have had to get hurt at all. Yep, that hatchet is buried for sure, as are the speeding tickets.
Except, now it's brought to his attention that the only ones to visit Billy in the hospital are the kids. The Hargrove- or Mayfield or whatever- parents seem to have better things to do, and that's unacceptable in Jim's opinion. That's why he takes it upon himself to stop by, almost a week after the incident occurred, in the early evening hours after he's finished his shift for the day. He didn't bring any gifts- doesn't think they'd be welcomed anyway- but he does intend to be on his best behavior and that's a gift in and of itself.
When Billy woke up, he was told it was four days since the fire at Starcourt mall. He was on so many drugs at this point that he had no hope of remembering the events of July Fourth with any sense of clarity but he did remember that it was more than just a fire. He vaguely remembered fireworks or at least the brightly coloured lights that accompanied them.
Mostly he just remembered pain.
On day five, he was visited by some old guy in a lab coat that introduced himself as Doctor Sam Owens. He filled Billy in on all the details of what had happened, had informed him that he'd employed a doctor who would be treating him for now, someone who was in the know because there was no way to explain how he had survived his injuries when even they didn't really know how.
Day six brought Max and her friends. They'd been there every day, sometimes all of them, sometimes just a few. Always Max. Even when he was asleep, they'd been there. At some point, he'd been left alone with just Max and the girl. Eleven. The girl who had freed him even though he had tried so hard to kill her.
Day seven brought Hopper. At first he's pretty sure he's just hallucinating the chief. He isn't in his uniform and he looks... not older but somehow like he's aged anyway. Billy is doped out of his fucking head so it's easy enough to believe he's imagining it. "You here to arrest me, chief?"
Truth be told, Jim doesn't like hospitals one bit. Certainly not after Sara. The surroundings bring back heavy memories and the smells in particular leave a foul taste in the back of his mouth. Still, he refuses to avoid these things. He has to face them head on, and if he just pretends hard enough it doesn't get to him, maybe it won't. There's more important things in this world than his own discomfort anyway.
And yet, as soon as Billy speaks with a voice that's less steady than usual, Jim's hit with a strong urge to ease his nerves with a cigarette. He knows he can't, that it's not allowed in here, but damn.
"Why? You think you've done something worth arresting you for?" he asks out of reflex, but as soon as the question leaves his mouth, he realizes that was maybe not the best approach. He hasn't got all the details, but he's fairly sure Billy was involved in recruiting others to the monster's army. Probably by force. And those people are gone now. It wasn't actually Billy who did those things, but Jim knows how bad Will Byers feels about what went down less than a year earlier. It's not as simple as 'loss of autonomy means zero responsibility or guilt'.
Billy blinks slowly, eyes closed for long enough that Heather's terrified face sits behind his eyelids and he lets out a trembling breath, jaw twitching. When he opens his eyes, they're wet with unshed tears and the smirk he tries to bring to his face is weak.
"Maybe a little." There was a time where there would have been some snark to the words, a flash of teeth as he smirks, maybe something flirty that most people brushed off as something else but now, laying here in a hospital bed, pale and gaunt with a giant hole in his chest that the doctors still weren't sure how he'd survived, there was nothing there. He resembled the sad, scared boy he was at his core. "Why're you here, chief?"
Yep, there's that answer he was dreading. If it'd been said in a playful tone, or maybe a sarcastic one, Jim could've put it behind him as nothing. The absence of tone is what makes it stand out. His nose crinkles lightly, though he masks it by turning away from Billy to shut the door behind himself. They're not in the security of Hawkins' old lab, or any other more covert government building; this is a very public hospital full of people who don't need to overhear any of this.
"I'm not here to make any arrests, that's for sure." Jim takes a few more seconds to peer out into the hallway through the little window, checking for eavesdroppers and/or people giving off a 'Russian operative' vibe. Once he's ascertained the coast is clear, he turns his attention back to Billy, even takes a step closer. "... I heard you kept the kids safe."
The way Hopper goes about shutting the door and peering out the shitty little blinds makes sense given what Owens had told him. Sure, Billy doesn't remember a lot of that conversation but he does distinctly remember the look on the man's face as he'd stressed to Billy just how important it was that he didn't talk to anyone else about what happened beyond himself, the one doctor and nurse that had been assigned to his care and the kids.
Something about the way Hopper says he kept the kids safe makes Billy snort and he immediately regrets it, his entire body exploding with pain, mouth open in a silent scream. His nurse had reminded him to breath through it whenever it hurt but that's easier said than done given the hole in his damn chest.
When he has himself back under control, he looks at Hopper with heavily lidded eyes that betray how tired he is.
"Yeah... kinda easy to save them when I was the one tryna kill them." It wasn't easy at all.
... Well. Jim's no doctor, but he can tell Billy's struggling right now. He considers coming back later, give the guy more time to heal in peace, only to dismiss that when he realizes it'd leave Billy all alone in here. Not a good option for several reasons. So he sticks around, wandering over to one of the visitor chairs so he can drop himself down there. His legs stretch out for more comfort, creating a tripping hazard for any nurse who might come in here at some point.
"I dunno- Was that you? Or was that the miserable abomination that'd burrowed its way into your brain?" he asks, though deep down he already knows the answer. Billy strikes him as someone who's all bark with very little bite. The Mind Flayer, on the other hand? 100% teeth.
Billy’s eyes track the movement as the chief comes and sits beside the bed in the same chair that Max has occupied every day that she’s visited. She’s also the only member of his family that’s visited. Apparently Neil and Susan came by once, while he was in surgery but they haven’t come back since.
Hopper is the first adult to visit him other than Owens and the staff. He doesn’t really want the man to leave. “How do you know that?”
Jim could be honest about this, could talk about his own involvement with closing the gate, and about his relationship to El. He could, but he won't. Discretion is key, and he doesn't know whether Billy can be trusted. What if part of that abomination stuck around somehow? What if it somehow comes out who El is, and where she is? He won't risk it.
"I've got my connections. And I'd be a pretty bad chief of police if I didn't know about the shadier things that go down here," is how he ultimately justifies it. None of that's a lie. A sigh escapes through his nose, and then: "Don't think the law's equipped to handle interdimensional body snatching situations. Shouldn't have to be. So you're off the hook. You were never on the hook."
“Owens didn’t mention you knew.” Granted Owens didn’t mention anyone knowing anything and he only knew that the kids and Harrington knew because they told him. They’d probably get in trouble for it if Owens knew that they’d told him the entire story, recalling the events dating back to the day he beat the shit out of Harrington at the Byers’ place.
“The kids… Max… they’ve told me everything.” About what had happened to Baby Byers, about the Gate, about the Demowhatevers and the Mind Flayer. They’d kept trying to tell him it wasn’t his fault. Didn’t stop it from feeling like it was. He hadn’t seen much of the news but he’d heard people talking in the hallways about the death toll from that night.
And they were all dead because of him. Because he wasn’t strong enough. Because he’d handed them over. “Shoulda let me die.”
Little did he know, most of his survival was his own doing, even if he didn’t know how.
Owens didn't mention it... Figures. If Jim were feeling charitable, he'd attribute it to Owens allowing him the freedom to divulge the information when he wants to. Or maybe it'd be to make the connection between himself and El less obvious. He isn't feeling charitable towards Owens, though. Not after leaving Hawkins to fend for itself the way he did. Now it's just an annoyance.
So is Billy's last remark.
"And what good would that have done?" he just about demands. He knows the mindset, has experienced it himself, but he still can't tolerate it. "You think you wouldn't be missed, or what? The kids fought to save your ass, so you're better off showing them some gratitude."
His scowl stays directed towards Billy's face for a second longer, then diverts itself to the wall. His pride ensures he can't stop himself from adding: "And for the record, I knew long before Owens did. I was the one who called him back here to help fix this mess."
"Never said I wasn't grateful to them." Because he was. Especially Max and the other girl. Eleven. Max had fought for him the entire time, listened when he'd begged for help. She'd tried. And Eleven. She'd kept Max safe. Protected her from him and the monster in his head.
She'd freed him.
He was grateful.
It didn't mean that he hadn't deserved to die for what he did to all those people.
"There's a lot of people in this town who I'm sure would have preferred they'd let me die." He doesn't look at the chief as he says it, can't bring himself to meet the man's gaze as the words leave his mouth.
Billy wants to snort at that but he catches himself before he can and cause himself more pain. "Good to know he showed up on time." He might be half dead but that doesn't stop him from being sarcastic as hell.
And there's more of that attitude Jim can't really stand. He knows the people of Hawkins can be bitter and judgmental, but he doubts anyone would've celebrated Billy's death. Why would they? In their eyes, he's just a rebellious teenager. At most, they would've cried big fat crocodile tears at the funeral and pretended they thought he was a good kid all along. So he ignores the remark; acts like he hadn't heard it, so he doesn't have to acknowledge any more of it. There's easier stuff to talk about, like criticizing another guy behind his back.
"Oh, yeah, real knight in shining armor, that Owens. Him and his guys came in guns blazing," he says with a casual, more lighthearted air. His right hand gestures vaguely. "Seriously though, when he's on your side, he's a good ally to have. You just gotta get through his thick skull first to make sure he understands how serious a situation really is. So if you ever need his help with something again? Just exaggerate. Make it sound ten times worse."
That's arguably what Joyce did when she called the confidential number, and it worked. At least, Jim assumes that might've been why Owens made it more of a priority.
“He’s kinda pretentious. Kept reminding me not to tell anyone, as if anyone would believe me anyway. The fuck am I gonna say? ‘It’s not my fault, I got possessed by a shadow monster from another world and that’s why I crashed my car and killed a bunch of people’? I’d end up in a fucking nut house.” Even having lived it, Billy still felt like he sounded insane. Sure, he knew it was true but it still felt made up.
And he’d rather not have to have a reason to call Owens. For anything.
“Your kid, Eleven… how is she?” If his voice sounds quiet, he’ll blame it on the hole in his chest and shattered bones and not on the fact that he almost doesn’t feel like he deserves to ask.
Jim gets both sides of the proverbial debate. When a story is this crazy, it's best to keep it all to yourself to protect your reputation. Still, if little details of the story do somehow end up in the wrong ears, it could spell trouble for all of Hawkins. Maybe even the entire world. The extra hush hush works.
He's silent for a moment, taking in the sentiment of 'his kid'. Despite having taken El in a while ago, he's never heard anyone refer to her like that. Memories of Sara invade, then quickly get brushed aside. El isn't Sara.
"She's... good," he says awkwardly, unsure whether that's the truth. Eleven's emotional state is often hard to read. His hands shuffle in his lap. "... She's thinking of going by Jane, actually. 'Cause Eleven's... not a good name. Not a name at all. Jane's better."
Billy wasn’t even sure what they’d told his dad and Susan to explain the extent of his injuries. Sure, ‘a fire’ was a good excuse to anyone who couldn’t see him, but he wasn’t exactly in a burn unit or anything and burns didn’t explain the hole in his chest where his sternum had been forcibly collapsed or the various holes left over from the monster trying its best to make a Billy-kebab.
Not that it mattered. His dad had come by once for all of five minutes when he was barely conscious and he hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
“Jane is definitely a better name, yeah. She’s not… I didn’t hurt her, did I?”
"No. You didn't do anything to her," Hopper insists, and that's half a dodge of the question. El's leg is still messed up from where part of the Mind Flayer had burrowed its way into her flesh. And there's numerous cuts and bruises apart from that. She got roughed up, there's no denying it. But Billy didn't hurt her. Jim believes that firmly.
"She'll be fine. So will the rest of her friends. And your sister," he adds. He knows they've been to visit Billy in the hospital, but it still bears repeating. "You just focus on yourself, alright? You've got it worse than anyone else who was there."
Well. Of the ones who survived, anyway. That does go without saying.
Look, Billy knows he's not a good guy. He's been incredibly shitty to Max and all her friends - especially Lucas - and the main reason he backed off was because he'd been drugged and almost had his nuts crushed by a spiky baseball bat and not because he suddenly had a change of heart.
But knowing those kids fought for him, saved him despite everything he did to them? The fact that, even if it was more for Max's sake than for his own, they'd been the only ones to visit him? Well, maybe he was reassessing things.
And even if they hadn't, he still didn't want to kill any of them. Not really. Didn't even really wanna hurt them. He just got so fucking angry sometimes.
"Well... most of them." His throat is dry, not used to so much talking and still recovering from the toxins he'd consumed and the coughing fit comes out of nowhere, despite the fact that he should have expected it. Had been told to. Everything hurts and when he finally gets his breath back, his whole body feels like it's been torn open again. The noise he makes is pitiful and he tries to reach for the button that will release more meds into his system, wincing at the way barely patched up wounds pull.
For years now, Jim hasn't only tried to avoid hospitals, he's tried to avoid sick people. He knew it'd be part of the job, but this is Hawkins. Nothing wild is meant to happen here. The chances of having to visit someone in the hospital should've been close to zero. How fucking wrong he's been proven, these past two years.
As soon as the coughing starts, he's on edge. Even goes to stand right by Billy's side, eager to help but unsure how. Memories of Sara flash through his mind- of being unable to get her through her illness, being shoved aside by doctors because he was just in the way... But there are no doctors here now. Not even nurses. It's only him.
Once he sees Billy's hand reaching for the button, he quickly snatches it up, moving it closer to the teen's finger. "Here, you need this? Go on. Just don't get too trigger happy. It'll mess you up down the road."
Billy takes the button and immediately presses it. The nurse had informed him from the start that he could press the button as often as he wanted to but it was set to only release a certain amount per hour to prevent him from overdosing himself. Probably a good thing, because Billy mashes the button several times in naive hope that the pain will stop all together.
Once the edge is off, Billy is able to relax a little and he focuses on catching his breath. "Can you... water? Please?"
So much for that trigger happy warning. The more Billy relies on painkiller, the worse his recovery will be in the long run. Still, if he's really in that much pain, Jim can't fault him for it. It just makes him wish he'd reconsidered all the options before deciding to go down into the compound below the mall. If he'd been up on the surface, he could've helped.
All he can do now is try to make the damage as easy as possible to deal with. Help patch things up where he can. Or, in Billy's case, offer up the smallest of gestures like getting him some water. "Sure. Just gimme one minute, I'll be back."
Because there's nothing in the room. He has go out into the hallway to find a water cooler and tap some from there. True to his word, he's back within a minute or so, plastic cup in hand. "Can you sit up a little more, or...?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[For @Tightjeans]
Eleven and all her friends could've died, all while Jim was busy far below their feet.
Mind, Jim could've died too. It was a real close shave, but he'd managed to escape a big Russian brute and dive into the control room just before Joyce flipped the keys to shut the gate. The resulting explosion was so bad, he was sure the whole place might've caved in on them, and any living being caught in the blast radius was instantly obliterated- those unlucky bastards. Jim's just glad he's not one of them. Leave it to Owens to then show up ten minutes late. Somehow, it's always damage control with those guys, never preventing the damage in the first place.
Almost thirty people died in the supposed mall fire, but none of Jim's loved ones were among them, and he knows he has someone to thank for that. The kids had told him everything about their confrontation with the 'Mind Flayer' (another ridiculous name in his opinion, but it's not like 'flesh and bone splinter spider monster' is any better) and who'd eventually stepped in to shield them from harm. He knows Billy Hargrove, of course. Pulled him over more than once for speeding through the streets of Hawkins like a maniac. Jim's willing to forgive all that, because a little bit of minor lawbreaking is dwarfed by the gesture of fighting one's way out of a mindfuck monster's hold to protect his daughter and her friend. There's a whole lot of selflessness needed to accept the kind of blows that Billy took that night. Besides, if Jim and Joyce had managed to close the gate just a little faster, Billy wouldn't have had to get hurt at all. Yep, that hatchet is buried for sure, as are the speeding tickets.
Except, now it's brought to his attention that the only ones to visit Billy in the hospital are the kids. The Hargrove- or Mayfield or whatever- parents seem to have better things to do, and that's unacceptable in Jim's opinion. That's why he takes it upon himself to stop by, almost a week after the incident occurred, in the early evening hours after he's finished his shift for the day. He didn't bring any gifts- doesn't think they'd be welcomed anyway- but he does intend to be on his best behavior and that's a gift in and of itself.
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Mostly he just remembered pain.
On day five, he was visited by some old guy in a lab coat that introduced himself as Doctor Sam Owens. He filled Billy in on all the details of what had happened, had informed him that he'd employed a doctor who would be treating him for now, someone who was in the know because there was no way to explain how he had survived his injuries when even they didn't really know how.
Day six brought Max and her friends. They'd been there every day, sometimes all of them, sometimes just a few. Always Max. Even when he was asleep, they'd been there. At some point, he'd been left alone with just Max and the girl. Eleven. The girl who had freed him even though he had tried so hard to kill her.
Day seven brought Hopper. At first he's pretty sure he's just hallucinating the chief. He isn't in his uniform and he looks... not older but somehow like he's aged anyway. Billy is doped out of his fucking head so it's easy enough to believe he's imagining it. "You here to arrest me, chief?"
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And yet, as soon as Billy speaks with a voice that's less steady than usual, Jim's hit with a strong urge to ease his nerves with a cigarette. He knows he can't, that it's not allowed in here, but damn.
"Why? You think you've done something worth arresting you for?" he asks out of reflex, but as soon as the question leaves his mouth, he realizes that was maybe not the best approach. He hasn't got all the details, but he's fairly sure Billy was involved in recruiting others to the monster's army. Probably by force. And those people are gone now. It wasn't actually Billy who did those things, but Jim knows how bad Will Byers feels about what went down less than a year earlier. It's not as simple as 'loss of autonomy means zero responsibility or guilt'.
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"Maybe a little." There was a time where there would have been some snark to the words, a flash of teeth as he smirks, maybe something flirty that most people brushed off as something else but now, laying here in a hospital bed, pale and gaunt with a giant hole in his chest that the doctors still weren't sure how he'd survived, there was nothing there. He resembled the sad, scared boy he was at his core. "Why're you here, chief?"
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"I'm not here to make any arrests, that's for sure." Jim takes a few more seconds to peer out into the hallway through the little window, checking for eavesdroppers and/or people giving off a 'Russian operative' vibe. Once he's ascertained the coast is clear, he turns his attention back to Billy, even takes a step closer. "... I heard you kept the kids safe."
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Something about the way Hopper says he kept the kids safe makes Billy snort and he immediately regrets it, his entire body exploding with pain, mouth open in a silent scream. His nurse had reminded him to breath through it whenever it hurt but that's easier said than done given the hole in his damn chest.
When he has himself back under control, he looks at Hopper with heavily lidded eyes that betray how tired he is.
"Yeah... kinda easy to save them when I was the one tryna kill them." It wasn't easy at all.
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"I dunno- Was that you? Or was that the miserable abomination that'd burrowed its way into your brain?" he asks, though deep down he already knows the answer. Billy strikes him as someone who's all bark with very little bite. The Mind Flayer, on the other hand? 100% teeth.
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Hopper is the first adult to visit him other than Owens and the staff. He doesn’t really want the man to leave. “How do you know that?”
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"I've got my connections. And I'd be a pretty bad chief of police if I didn't know about the shadier things that go down here," is how he ultimately justifies it. None of that's a lie. A sigh escapes through his nose, and then: "Don't think the law's equipped to handle interdimensional body snatching situations. Shouldn't have to be. So you're off the hook. You were never on the hook."
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“The kids… Max… they’ve told me everything.” About what had happened to Baby Byers, about the Gate, about the Demowhatevers and the Mind Flayer. They’d kept trying to tell him it wasn’t his fault. Didn’t stop it from feeling like it was. He hadn’t seen much of the news but he’d heard people talking in the hallways about the death toll from that night.
And they were all dead because of him. Because he wasn’t strong enough. Because he’d handed them over. “Shoulda let me die.”
Little did he know, most of his survival was his own doing, even if he didn’t know how.
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So is Billy's last remark.
"And what good would that have done?" he just about demands. He knows the mindset, has experienced it himself, but he still can't tolerate it. "You think you wouldn't be missed, or what? The kids fought to save your ass, so you're better off showing them some gratitude."
His scowl stays directed towards Billy's face for a second longer, then diverts itself to the wall. His pride ensures he can't stop himself from adding: "And for the record, I knew long before Owens did. I was the one who called him back here to help fix this mess."
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She'd freed him.
He was grateful.
It didn't mean that he hadn't deserved to die for what he did to all those people.
"There's a lot of people in this town who I'm sure would have preferred they'd let me die." He doesn't look at the chief as he says it, can't bring himself to meet the man's gaze as the words leave his mouth.
Billy wants to snort at that but he catches himself before he can and cause himself more pain. "Good to know he showed up on time." He might be half dead but that doesn't stop him from being sarcastic as hell.
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"Oh, yeah, real knight in shining armor, that Owens. Him and his guys came in guns blazing," he says with a casual, more lighthearted air. His right hand gestures vaguely. "Seriously though, when he's on your side, he's a good ally to have. You just gotta get through his thick skull first to make sure he understands how serious a situation really is. So if you ever need his help with something again? Just exaggerate. Make it sound ten times worse."
That's arguably what Joyce did when she called the confidential number, and it worked. At least, Jim assumes that might've been why Owens made it more of a priority.
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And he’d rather not have to have a reason to call Owens. For anything.
“Your kid, Eleven… how is she?” If his voice sounds quiet, he’ll blame it on the hole in his chest and shattered bones and not on the fact that he almost doesn’t feel like he deserves to ask.
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He's silent for a moment, taking in the sentiment of 'his kid'. Despite having taken El in a while ago, he's never heard anyone refer to her like that. Memories of Sara invade, then quickly get brushed aside. El isn't Sara.
"She's... good," he says awkwardly, unsure whether that's the truth. Eleven's emotional state is often hard to read. His hands shuffle in his lap. "... She's thinking of going by Jane, actually. 'Cause Eleven's... not a good name. Not a name at all. Jane's better."
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Not that it mattered. His dad had come by once for all of five minutes when he was barely conscious and he hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
“Jane is definitely a better name, yeah. She’s not… I didn’t hurt her, did I?”
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"She'll be fine. So will the rest of her friends. And your sister," he adds. He knows they've been to visit Billy in the hospital, but it still bears repeating. "You just focus on yourself, alright? You've got it worse than anyone else who was there."
Well. Of the ones who survived, anyway. That does go without saying.
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But knowing those kids fought for him, saved him despite everything he did to them? The fact that, even if it was more for Max's sake than for his own, they'd been the only ones to visit him? Well, maybe he was reassessing things.
And even if they hadn't, he still didn't want to kill any of them. Not really. Didn't even really wanna hurt them. He just got so fucking angry sometimes.
"Well... most of them." His throat is dry, not used to so much talking and still recovering from the toxins he'd consumed and the coughing fit comes out of nowhere, despite the fact that he should have expected it. Had been told to. Everything hurts and when he finally gets his breath back, his whole body feels like it's been torn open again. The noise he makes is pitiful and he tries to reach for the button that will release more meds into his system, wincing at the way barely patched up wounds pull.
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As soon as the coughing starts, he's on edge. Even goes to stand right by Billy's side, eager to help but unsure how. Memories of Sara flash through his mind- of being unable to get her through her illness, being shoved aside by doctors because he was just in the way... But there are no doctors here now. Not even nurses. It's only him.
Once he sees Billy's hand reaching for the button, he quickly snatches it up, moving it closer to the teen's finger. "Here, you need this? Go on. Just don't get too trigger happy. It'll mess you up down the road."
forgive the shitty icons for a little while
Once the edge is off, Billy is able to relax a little and he focuses on catching his breath. "Can you... water? Please?"
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All he can do now is try to make the damage as easy as possible to deal with. Help patch things up where he can. Or, in Billy's case, offer up the smallest of gestures like getting him some water. "Sure. Just gimme one minute, I'll be back."
Because there's nothing in the room. He has go out into the hallway to find a water cooler and tap some from there. True to his word, he's back within a minute or so, plastic cup in hand. "Can you sit up a little more, or...?"