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William doesn’t know how he got into this situation. He knows- some. Hero stuff. Hero stuff that went wrong. Because right now he’s choking on his own blood and-
Five minutes before it was a simple battle. He shouldn’t have even been near the actual fighting- he’s not a fighter. He’s painfully aware of this.
Ashe’s voice rings in his ears through the earpiece, “You have a couple civilians left in that area.”
“Alright.”
“Dakota and Vynce seem fine- shouldn’t need to help them there.”
“I’ll still make my way over there after-”
A sigh. He smiles a little and he knows she is too- it’s a whole thing.
He draws another hand of wisps- pulling away at the crumbled pieces of battle torn buildings and ground. He is good at one thing and it’s being useful.
The people stare at him- he speaks softly ( as much as he can, anyway. He’s really bad at not having the whole smoker’s rasp thing all the time). They filter out of the rubble and he hears a ping!
That’s it- now to Dakota and Vynce.
He lets himself skip through the concrete, stumbling a bit as he makes his way over to where he thinks the other two are.
He wasn’t paying attention. If he was paying attention he wouldn’t have literally stumbled onto the battlefield. The- main fight- Dakota and Vynce have cuts all over their bodies and he-
The villain himself is sharp and glinting. He doesn’t realise he’s right behind him before it’s too late to do anything.
William doesn’t know if he can die. That doesn’t mean he’s not scared to .
The way the serrated hand catches on the start of Adam's apple and the way blood sprays against the wall with that tiny cut-
He hears Ashe in his ears. He sees Dakota- standing a distance away. Vyncent’s yelling too- but it mixes with the noise and the gore and- He can’t hear anything over the noise of his own throat splashing against the floor.
It gets a little fuzzy after that. Pain stabs through his body and his spine and it’s weird. Because he feels his head hit the ground away from his body, rolling away against the ground. He can turn his eyes down- he can see the blood giving a last bubble upwards but he can see his body.
That’s not normal.
William doesn’t know what normal is but this isn’t normal.
He can see his arms still when they hit the ground. The thudding of his own body echoes over the screams.
And then it’s silent.
He stares up at the sky. It’s dark- afternoon, and the tops of the buildings crown the area like trees. Maybe he should focus on the moon and the stars instead of his vocal cords sliding out of his body. Or the blood in his mouth and his face. Or Dakota’s yelling.
He’s only ever heard Dakota yell like that once before, and even then he doesn’t remember it vividly. When the Trickster tore him in two. It’s weird to die to something so insignificant. He doesn’t even know this villain’s name.
He’s loud. It echoes throughout the outcrop of destruction and chaos but before he knows it he’s- drifting off. He feels peaceful and it’s been like a minute and he should be panicking but-
He’s not.
His throat gives one more rasp before he blacks out. That burning feeling fades when he does- and then it’s just black.
All their voices scream in his ears. Ashe. Vyncent. Dakota. He doesn’t want to die because he can’t die like this but-
His eyes open. It’s hard because there’s blood on there and they’re coated with that and…he feels gross. But-
He’s not dead. He takes a rasp and he can hear it rattle in his chest. The arm underneath his shoulder flinch and there’s more yelling-
“ William?”
Dakota. It’s Dakota. Dakota’s hand shakes as he holds him up but he can feel that.
Blood drips down from the top of his neck. It’s…blue. Like the wisps and his eyes and his ghostshaping. It’s bright. Against his hands and Dakota's chest ( he’s still yelling. He can’t focus on it)
His eyes move involuntarily down to his neck. He can still see the gash, long and along the length of his neck. It bubbles blood still, softly and slowly. It drips. He can taste the salt in his mouth and if he looks closer in the gash he can see his own throat.
Huh.
He doesn’t like that.
But he can see the wound healing. Slowly and painfully and he-
There’s the noise of his skin putting itself back together. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it but he can hear it.
He wonders if Dakota can hear it. He can’t really bother to lift his head up so he just stares. Stares at the blood on his neck- on his shoes and his outfit-
He doesn’t think the blood will ever get out. It’s bright and stains the black fabric of his costume, smearing against it with every movement.
The fuzziness is back. He’s…fading again. His eyes are slipping shut and he really, really hopes he’ll wake up again.
The next time he wakes up, he’s laying down. He feels clean and- his outfits been taken off. That’s- good. He can’t feel the blood caked on his neck or chest and…he lets himself breathe out.
He’s…fine. Really. His breathing doesn’t catch and he doesn’t almost scream when he gets up. He doesn’t clutch the bed ( bed? ) and he doesn’t hug his legs to his forehead.
He can feel his head. There’s not that cold feeling creeping up and down and he can feel.
He’s in the Defenders Hall. He’s fine. He can forget this ever happened and he can- it’s normal Whisperer shit. He died and came back. He knows how this works and it shouldn’t surprise him and-
There’s a knock at the door.
“William-?”
“ Don’t come in!” He yells- he doesn’t know why he fucking yells because that’s Dakota’s voice and he’s probably just worried and he yelled at Dakota-
There’s a pause, “Are you okay?”
“ No.”
“Okay- okay- uh…” the other trails off behind the door. He stays in bed and tries to calm down. “Do you wanna know what happened…after?”
There’s a really long pause again, and under all the panic, Will is first and foremost insanely curious, “Yeah.”
“You- healed. After all that.”
“Mhm.”
“So they said the only problem was you needed to sleep it off.”
“The medics?”
“Yep- and…well you did.” A pause, “You scared us, yknow?”
“Sorry. Just- didn’t plan that.” He laughs a little under his breath. He knows the door isn’t locked right now. “I think I’m going back to bed, Dakota- uh- telll the others im…okay?”
“Yeah- uh- sleep well?”
He’s out again before he can reply. His grip on the blankets and pillows loosens and he just…drifts off.