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006 [Voice]
Jan. 11th, 2014 01:31 am[A few days ago, Teddy and Billy had gotten away from the village to go ice skating at one of the lakes. They had a wonderful time, too, even if it was clumsy and awkward at first. It was still full of laughter and joy, and quiet moments of reflection and love.
Yesterday, however, was when it started. Billy started to get sniffly and achy, the first sign that something was wrong. Teddy thought it was a cold, and Billy thought the same, though that didn't stop the former from quietly feeling a little guilty about it.
Today? Today, it seemed a lot worse. Billy's stuck in bed and feeling absolutely awful, whereas with a cold he'd at least get out of bed for some things. Teddy could handle colds, despite not having experienced any sort of sicknesses himself. This? He's not even sure what this is. Billy's miserable, his cheeks and forehead feel too hot, and – god, it looks like it hurts him to even move...
Teddy doesn't know what this is, and so he feels himself panicking inside. What if it's worse than they thought? What if this is just the beginning? What if Billy can't get past this, what if...
It's with that in mind that, while Billy's curled on his side under the blankets and coughing pitifully, Teddy opens the journal, wanting to filter it to Mia but not having the right mind to do it. He stands a few feet away, trying to keep his voice low, but Billy's coughing just happens to end while he speaks softly, his voice trying to remain steady, yet a hint of fear finds its way into it anyway.]
I don't know what to do... I think Billy's dying. He's really sick, and -
[Suddenly, a muffled, wheezy voice cuts in from beneath the covers-]
I'm not dying, Tee, don't tell them that...
[Honestly, it's like he's never seen someone with the flu before.]
But we don't know for sure, what if you get worse? It's already pretty bad... We at least need help.
Mmrrgh...
[The first response is too muffled, as Billy burrows further into the blankets. And then more coughing, because talking is a chore he is not enjoying right now.]
...Soup. Just g'me some soup.
...Okay.
[And with that, Teddy walks away to make some soup - chicken noodle, apparently the best kind for being sick. Once he's out of the room, however, he turns back to the journal as he keeps walking.]
If anyone knows what's wrong, or what I can do... Please.
[[ooc: This is sort of a joint post! Teddy will most likely answer - please specify if you want Billy too, otherwise the boy will happily burrow in the blankets and try not to die.]]
Yesterday, however, was when it started. Billy started to get sniffly and achy, the first sign that something was wrong. Teddy thought it was a cold, and Billy thought the same, though that didn't stop the former from quietly feeling a little guilty about it.
Today? Today, it seemed a lot worse. Billy's stuck in bed and feeling absolutely awful, whereas with a cold he'd at least get out of bed for some things. Teddy could handle colds, despite not having experienced any sort of sicknesses himself. This? He's not even sure what this is. Billy's miserable, his cheeks and forehead feel too hot, and – god, it looks like it hurts him to even move...
Teddy doesn't know what this is, and so he feels himself panicking inside. What if it's worse than they thought? What if this is just the beginning? What if Billy can't get past this, what if...
It's with that in mind that, while Billy's curled on his side under the blankets and coughing pitifully, Teddy opens the journal, wanting to filter it to Mia but not having the right mind to do it. He stands a few feet away, trying to keep his voice low, but Billy's coughing just happens to end while he speaks softly, his voice trying to remain steady, yet a hint of fear finds its way into it anyway.]
I don't know what to do... I think Billy's dying. He's really sick, and -
[Suddenly, a muffled, wheezy voice cuts in from beneath the covers-]
I'm not dying, Tee, don't tell them that...
[Honestly, it's like he's never seen someone with the flu before.]
But we don't know for sure, what if you get worse? It's already pretty bad... We at least need help.
Mmrrgh...
[The first response is too muffled, as Billy burrows further into the blankets. And then more coughing, because talking is a chore he is not enjoying right now.]
...Soup. Just g'me some soup.
...Okay.
[And with that, Teddy walks away to make some soup - chicken noodle, apparently the best kind for being sick. Once he's out of the room, however, he turns back to the journal as he keeps walking.]
If anyone knows what's wrong, or what I can do... Please.
[[ooc: This is sort of a joint post! Teddy will most likely answer - please specify if you want Billy too, otherwise the boy will happily burrow in the blankets and try not to die.]]
