Talking
Dudley mumbled inaudible profanities as he rummaged through the sparsely stocked shelves above his stove. His unkempt lick of white hair bobbed into his field of vision, and he quickly brushed it back before pushing aside a bag of chips. He grabbed hold of a box of soup mix, turned it over, and examined the back. A frown crossed his features as he tossed the box into a nearby trash can. The cupboard contained only a box of hot chocolate mix, instant mac and cheese, and a few cans of vegetables. He had already looked in his fridge and freezer, but had found little more than a few frozen items and some leftovers. It wasn't much to last through a store. The tired man quietly cursed himself for not thinking to grab groceries before the storm hit. In hindsight, he should have seen the signs of a coming snowstorm. Now, with the storm cutting off roads and shutting down subways, he was trapped in his poorly stocked apartment.
His attention jumped to his window, which was almost entirely frosted over. Placing another box on the counter, Dudley strode over to the edge of the room and peered outside. A blanket of snow drifted past, blotting out the quiet neighborhood. Swirling ice flew in the wind, pattering against the frosted glass. The weary gentleman noticed his reflection in the window and scowled. His hair was splayed wildly, and dark bags hung mockingly under his eyes. Dudley blinked and fixed his hair once more. He worried that he might scare Billy if the boy saw him. Remembering the sick boy in his room, the handyman's expression became somber.
Dudley thought back to the tumultuous night before. Rest had been fleeting the prior evening. Unable to fall asleep on the couch, Dudley had preoccupied himself with making sure that Billy was alright. The boy had tossed fitfully for most of the evening until finally falling into a peaceful slumber sometime after midnight. Dudley came in periodically to check on him. His worry grew progressively throughout the night until his charge quieted down. Still worried, Dudley found a seat and engrossed himself in a novel until he dozed off
Dudley's attention snapped back to the present, and he walked over to his coffee table and picked up the television remote. He clicked a button and a dull hum filled the room. At once his archaic TV came to life, prominently displaying static. Dudley changed the channel, but found only more static. Unable to access the weather channel, he had no way to know when the blizzard would pass.
Grumbling, he walked over to the counter and continued searching for something resembling soup to make for Billy. Though the store was only a couple miles away, with the severity of the storm, it might as well be on another planet. Thus, he was consigned to making whatever he could out of the various odds and ends he had on hand. He hadn't expected to have company, let alone a sick child to take care of.
In the future, he would keep extra supplies on hand for this kind of situation.
The unprepared handyman noticed an red and white box pressed against the other side of his cabinet. Gripping a shred of hope, he snatched the chicken soup mix and turned it over. The date on the box indicated it was still good. A grin spread across his features as he closed the cabinet and placed the box beside the stove. His good luck was finally coming through for him.
Now all that was left to be done was check on Billy.
Dudley strode quietly out of the kitchen and into Billy's temporary room, fully expecting his ailing guest to be fast asleep. He was surprised to instead find him standing to the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes wearily. Billy hadn't noticed him, and Dudley took a moment to look him over. His frizzed black hair mirrored Dudley's disheveled appearance, and his clothes hung loosely on his shoulders. Dudley noticed that the boy appeared taller than when he last saw him.
Suddenly, Billy turned to the doorway, and his piercing blue gaze locked onto Dudley. He immediately stumbled back and shrunk into himself. Dudley noted that he once again seemed shorter.
"Hey, Billy," Dudley greeted soothingly, taking several slow steps towards the boy. "I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay? What're you doing out of bed?"
A surprised expression crossed Billy's features as words eluded him. Finally, he held out the glass Dudley had placed by his bedside, which was now empty.
"I just wanted to get some more (cough) water," he squeaked. "I'm sorry."
Concern flared in Dudley's mind, but he forced a smile. "It's no trouble at all. If you need something don't hesitate to ask. How about I get you some soup too?" His offer elicited a hesitant nod from the sick boy, and he gently took the glass from Billy before returning to the kitchen.
Billy crawled back into bed and waited patiently. The sounds of the wind drifted in from outside, drawing his attention to the window. A thick white veil obstructed his view of outside, and he briefly wondered where Dudley's apartment was. He hoped it wasn't too far from the zeta-tube entrance. If it was, he would have to walk through the storm to get back to the Watchtower.
Billy cringed at the thought of the other League members. He hadn't checked in for some time, and had most certainly missed his appointed monitor duty. He could already hear Superman and Wonder Woman reminding him of his responsibilities to the Justice League, a look of disappointment plastered on their faces.
"Your first priority must be the League, Captain. You know our job isn't something to be taken lightly. The fate of the world and countless lives rest on our shoulders. Even something as simple as missing a call for help or breaching security protocol could lead to dire consequences."
Billy imagined that the way the other members of the League lectured him was similar to how his mom or dad would have lectured him. Not that he knew…
His rapidly darkening thoughts were interrupted as Dudley walked in again, carrying a large steaming bowl and another glass of water. The kind man walked over to Billy, placed the glass of water on a nightstand, and handed him a spoon. Billy barely had time to utter a timid, "thank you" before Dudley placed the bowl next to the glass of water. Immediately, the mouth-watering scent pervaded his senses, and he stuck his spoon in the bowl eagerly. Dudley's hand on his wrist stopped him before he could pop the utensil in his mouth.
"Careful, kiddo," Dudley reminded gently. "It's pretty hot. Give it a minute to cool down."
Billy's cheeks grew warm, and his gaze fell to the bowl.
"Sorry," he said abashedly.
Dudley's expression clouded before growing soft once more. "You're alright. I bet you're pretty hungry after everything that's happened the last few days."
Truthfully, Billy's sickness had curbed his appetite, but people rarely offered him food. He ate whatever he could get.
"Yeah," he said quietly before blowing, the slurping from the spoon. His eyes grew large as he stared at the heavenly dish in his lap. Being careful not to spill anything, Billy scooped up, blew on, and swallowed several gulps in quick succession, much to Dudley's amusement. After a few minutes, he held out the empty bowl, which Dudley took and placed on the nightstand beside his glass of water.
"That was really good!" Billy exclaimed. "Did you make it yourself?"
Dudley chuckled. "No. I just boiled the water. If I had cooked it, well…I don't want you getting any more sick than you already are."
Soft, bubbly laughter from Billy, and he giggled until his cachinnation devolved into a coughing fit. Taking another drink of water, he noticed Dudley staring down at him, worry glowing in his eyes. Billy forced a smile to dispel his host's concern.
"You feeling any better?" Dudley queried, grinning to mirror Billy.
Billy took a deep breath and rubbed his belly. "Yeah, a little. My head still (cough) hurts a bit, but I don't feel as tired anymore."
"That's good," Dudley replied. "You should still probably get some more sleep this afternoon. You need energy to fight this off."
"Okay," Billy replied. He shifted his position and sat up straight, examining his generous host. He could tell that Dudley was tired; he had seen many Leaguers look the same way after all-night missions or long battles.
"I'm sorry I took your bed," Billy said quietly, his piercing blue gaze fixed on Dudley. The man just gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair.
"You needed it more than me," his friendly caretaker responded, seemingly unfazed by the loss of his room. "Besides, the couch is comfortable too."
The discussion between the pair died down, and they both turned to the window. Outside the endless tempest persisted, enveloping the rest of the neighborhood.
"I think we're going to be spending a few days together," Dudley commented, breaking the stifling silence. Billy nodded, smiled tiredly, and took another drink of water.
"So, do you go to school?" Dudley inquired, his demeanor growing slightly more serious. Billy shrunk back, suddenly self-conscious. He hadn't attended any classes since just before joining the League. He had been skipping class for over a year. The worried hero fumbled his words until his caretaker rested a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not going to get you in trouble," Dudley reassured. "I just want to know a little more about you."
Billy took a deep, stuttering breath and managed to calm down. "There are classes at one of the shelters for the (cough) kids who can't go to school. I used to go there. They taught me how to read and write. I also took some math, but I'm not very good at it…"
"Yeah, neither was I," Dudley replied, eliciting another shy smile from his ailing charge. "So why did you stop going?" Billy's smile fell away.
"…some of the other kids started picking on me…"
The sick boy's eyes grew watery, and Dudley quickly changed the subject.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
Billy thought for a moment. Most of his free time was taken up with heroics, monitor duty on the Watchtower, and sitting in (extremely boring) briefings. He doubted that Dudley would believe him if he told the truth…
"I like to read comics sometimes," he lied. "And (cough) I like to go outside. It's fun to go to some of the parks downtown."
Dudley nodded in understanding and smiled. "Well, when you're feeling better and the storm is gone, how about we go down there. I know this place that makes the best ice cream sundaes in the city."
"Really?" Billy asked, his bright blue eyes shining like stars. "I've never had ice cream before." Dudley simply nodded and looked out the window.
"But I don't think we're going anywhere until this storm clears up. For now, we're going to have to stay inside. If you want, I have some comics from the paper you can look at."
"That sounds…yawn…great (cough)," Billy said. He laid down and snuggled under the covers.
"Let me see if I have some medicine for that cough," Dudley offered.
Billy smiled and nodded. "And maybe some hot chocolate?"