[His voice feels rough with disuse. He thinks the las time he used it, he was screaming. The vocal cords feel delicate even when he swallows dry; feels like his throat is constricting with the effort to mimic old, useless functions. He leans against the frame, watching, watching.
The room smells like copper and decay; like dust and damp. Eddie smells like all of those things, but he also still smells a little sweet. Still alive; still circulating. His nails are digging into his own arms before he can even really process it.
He's slow to move at first. Seems reluctant to pull away from the frame, to cross over to the bed and pull an old stool over to sit close to Eddie's head. It's dark, sure, but Billy can see the pale hue of Eddie's face just fine.
Billy's hand is ice cold when he places it against Eddie's forehead.] You've got a fever, probably. It might break before your body shuts down. I don't know. The delirium might make it easier,
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[His voice feels rough with disuse. He thinks the las time he used it, he was screaming. The vocal cords feel delicate even when he swallows dry; feels like his throat is constricting with the effort to mimic old, useless functions. He leans against the frame, watching, watching.
The room smells like copper and decay; like dust and damp. Eddie smells like all of those things, but he also still smells a little sweet. Still alive; still circulating. His nails are digging into his own arms before he can even really process it.
He's slow to move at first. Seems reluctant to pull away from the frame, to cross over to the bed and pull an old stool over to sit close to Eddie's head. It's dark, sure, but Billy can see the pale hue of Eddie's face just fine.
Billy's hand is ice cold when he places it against Eddie's forehead.] You've got a fever, probably. It might break before your body shuts down. I don't know. The delirium might make it easier,