Chapter Text
William and Rolan sat in some bushes, both absolutely covered in dirt and other foliage. William wasn’t exactly sure why they were doing this, but a rest was greatly appreciated. He knew it was probably the blood loss talking, but he sure was tired. And, oh, what a delightful thing to think. He had blood! Enough to lose and still have some in his body! He was alive! If they weren’t trying to be stealthy, William would’ve shouted with joy.
Oh, right. He probably needed to treat himself and stop the blood flow. He forgot about that. Usually, he wouldn’t bleed and therefore wouldn’t really need to be patched up. But as he watched the thick purple drip onto the forest floor, it did remind him that, hey, he definitely wasn’t the same as he was.
“Rolan,” William murmured. The man in question whipped his head around to face him. “There’re s’me bandages in my duffle bag... can you grab ‘em for me?” He was just so exhausted that he really didn’t feel like keeping his focus on making sure his words were understandable. Rolan, however, nodded.
After a few minutes of rummaging around in William’s bag, Rolan pulled out a large first aid kit. He grabbed the box and opened it up, revealing the massive amount of supplies. William pulled his coat off, and began to tend to the puncture wound in his shoulder.
In taking his coat off, he revealed his oddly specific graphic tee that he maybe had custom made. William was pulled back into reality by Rolan’s quiet laugh. Pausing his application, he looked at his cousin quizzically. “What?” He questioned. Rolan pointed at his shirt. Oh, yeah. He forgot about that. He probably shouldn’t say that he was definitely dead. He should lie.
“It’s j’st a joke with my friends… oh, shit. Dakota ‘nd Vynce!” William’s eyes widened at the realization. He put the bandages down and scrambled for his coat pocket. He retrieved his phone and turned it on, smearing some purple onto it. He saw a few missed calls from Vyncent, but he couldn’t really listen to the voice mail, so he tried to call his friend back.
It went to voicemail. He needed a message, one that would tell the two of them that they’d probably be staying in Galloway for a bit. “Heh… did you guys know that bleeding sucks a lot? I didn’t. We’re g’nna have to stay here. There’s a mystery and I gotta get t’ the bottom of it.” He paused. “Okay I love you byeeeee!” He hung up the phone and slid it back into the coat’s pocket.
William turned to Rolan with an eyebrow raised. “What the hell were those.. those bugs?” He asked. He picked the roll of bandages back up and continued to tend to himself. If it were any other time, he’d notice that Rolan looked terrified. But, unfortunately, he was a bit too delirious to realize.
“I-I don’t know, William. I’ve been trying to figure it out with Rand and Kian but- but I think they’re like spiders?” Rolan responded. That kind of made sense, he supposed. William tried to remember literally anything about spiders, but all he got was that they didn’t like citrus smells. Maybe they could use that?
William pulled his hand away from his shoulder, surprised that it was heavier than it should be. He looked down. Right in the middle of his palm, like freshly cooked meat, was his own flesh. It took a lot of effort not to vomit at the sight. “Okay, it wasn’t just a stab. That’s… that’s good t’ know.” Gently, he placed the slab next to a tree. It probably needed the nutrients. He remembered how, back in Deadwood, one of his teachers fed the tree in her backyard a steak by planting it near the roots. He remembered how it was gone the next day. Were all plants omnivores? Or were they carnivores, considering they ate the sunlight and not plants? Was it even considered eating at all?
Focus, William. He’d died three times by now, this isn’t that bad. All he needed to do was focus. “So, a-about back there… uh, how?? Why??” Rolan asked. He seemed deeply perplexed by William’s actions, as if saving people wasn’t a deeply ingrained instinct in everybody. It probably wasn’t.
“Oh, I got these in Master Cole’s training place, ‘cause we need to fight th’ Trickster before he takes over the world,” William explained, as if that made any sense to someone that wasn’t a superhero. “Didju’ know that time works differently in the Spirit World? I didn’t either!”
He paused. “Wait, that’s pro’lly why everything was the same after we saved Tide from Mal… hm…” William put his hand to his chin, as if thinking hard about something. Rolan looked at him like he was insane. Maybe he was. Actually, scratch that. His life was fucking insane. If he told fourteen year old William Wisp that he’d have the entire world relying on him one day, fourteen year old William Wisp would laugh in his face and walk into the woods.
Before Rolan could say anything else, there were loud footsteps, thundering in front of them. William turned around to see a taller man in a denim jacket and red sunglasses run into what he could only describe as a bunker. Rolan’s eyes widened at the sight and began running after the man.
“Huh,” was all William uttered in response. Guess they were going that way, then. He pulled his coat back on and grabbed the medkit, tucking it into his duffel bag. He stood up but had to steady himself against a tree. Even if he had patched himself up, he could still feel the pain from the stingers. It was almost all consuming in a way. He wasn’t about to say that he’d prefer to be dead than alive, but being dead certainly had some perks. Like not being able to feel pain, for example. His nerves didn’t respond, and so, he couldn’t feel when he had injured himself.
He brought his hand up to his head, holding it for a few moments. He was starting to get dizzy. Probably the blood loss again. It’s always the blood loss now, he supposed. There’s nothing that he was experiencing right now that wasn’t a symptom of blood loss. As far as he could tell. Maybe the stingers were poisoned and this was just a side effect of that. Hopefully not. He didn’t know how to deal with poison. It was already in his bloodstream, so he couldn’t puke to make it come back up, and he didn’t have any antidotes in his medkit.
Focus, William. He could still see the beige of Rolan’s suit, so he followed at his own pace. He was so dizzy that running was absolutely not in the cards. Even just walking made him stumble. Seriously, this sucked. This sucked bad.
After a few minutes of walking, he caught up to his cousin who seemed to be pounding on the door of the bunker. It wasn’t budging. That, at least, was something he understood. Rolan was calling out, trying to get whoever was inside to open the door. Nothing was happening. To be fair, if William had less chill and was in the denim guy’s position, there was no way that he’d be anywhere close to opening the door. It just wasn’t going to happen. Hell, he’d have barricaded the door with as many pieces of furniture as he could lift. That’s just the way he worked. You needed to be as safe as you could be.
William sat down next to the door, suddenly extremely dizzy. Standing up at all didn’t seem to be in the cards anymore. That probably wasn’t good. Not being able to stand is never a good thing. He looked up and watched Rolan for a couple moments. The back and forth of his arm pounding on the door was not making him feel better.
He was tired, he realized. He could barely keep his eyes open. He should probably sleep.
Blinking a few times, William said, “I’m gonna… ‘m gonna sleep for a bit. Wake me up if s’mthing happens, ‘kay?”
“Wait, Will-” was all Rolan could say before William passed out. He was as asleep as the dead.