Seeing Ryan, who had been so introverted and internalized, staring with rapt wonder at Billy was a sort of improvement. The male, the one who I could find no background on, seemed intent on hovering, until Billy turned and glared at him dead on.
"I think you'll find the boy has my last name," he growled, and I bit my lip as the overzealous guard backed off, and disappeared from sight at least. Ryan was practically vibrating, and Mrs. Davos had already faded away. "Let's head into the room where you and Ronnie sat last time, eh?"
He was shooting me a look that screamed 'help' which only made me bite my lip a little harder. I raised my eyebrow and gestured for him to lead on, causing his nostrils to flare with exaggerated patience and I had to swallow a laugh. Dear God, this was NOT what I was expecting. Ryan sat, waiting with the patience of a ten year old for Billy to sit beside him, and so did I.
"Uh, Ronnie, Doc - I mean," William Fucking Butcher looked like he was unsure of himself and I wished I could record it without making things even more weird. His eyes were on mine and if he could actually telegraph his words I was pretty sure they were 'fucking HELP'.
"Ryan, Billy's here to check in with you, but I'm going to be asking most of the questions again, is that alright with you?" If I didn't take control, God knew we wouldn't get anywhere. Ryan's eyes met mine and he smiled, more at ease with me than he had at the beginning of our first visit. "OK, Billy, take a seat, please."
Once Billy sat down, I took the chair across from the sofa that the two Butcher men were seated on, of course one wasn't Butcher by blood, but Becca had given him that name for protection and because it was HER name. Ryan couldn't take his eyes off of Billy and Billy looked as comfortable with the attention as most men would look at detonating an armed bomb.
"Ryan," I hoped that I could at least keep the conversation moving, the dialogue going. His gaze met mine again, and I smiled. "I - we watched one of your stop-motion movies," his eyes flashed back to Billy, seeking confirmation and he got a nod for it. "Do you not have what you need to make more here, or -" I left it open, I wanted Ryan to pick up the thread and explain why he'd stopped, why it didn't seem as important now.
His eyes dropped, the shutting down started, and I glanced at Billy. "What is it?" Good, I thought, he's catching on. "Ryan, why don't you do it now?" Getting Billy to ask, to get involved could help get the gates opened, hopefully.
Ryan sighed and fidgeted, his hands not knowing what to do with themselves. "I made Mom's favorite movies," he peeked at Billy, timid of how the mention of Becca might be met, but seeing nothing other than a small nod for him to go on, he did. "She's not here to -" his voice broke and so did a piece of my heart. Oh, shit. "I just thought -" his shoulder shrugged a bit and I shook my head.
"Did ya like doin' em?" Billy's voice was gruff, it always was, but this was just a touch rougher, and I knew it was from the reminder of their loss. Ryan looked up at Billy and I watched as the two of them studied one another for a few beats. "If you like doin' em, then keep doin' em. Your mom would want you to do what you like - to find happiness in something."
Ryan didn't say anything, he just stared at Billy like he was waiting for the punchline or the other shoe to drop. When none came, he turned to me. "Do you enjoy making them?" I asked, keeping my voice even and quiet. "You did a wonderful job on the one we watched." I didn't want to talk about all of them, telling Ryan I watched all of his stop action films wouldn't really matter to him, not with his need for Billy's attention.
I could see that he was trying to decide how to explain and Billy looked like he was about to ask another question, so I shifted slightly, causing his gaze to land on me. A slight shake of my head to warn him to keep quiet. Thankfully he took the hint and kept silent because Ryan found his words and we managed to keep the conversation flowing.
Ryan told us how he loved doing the movies, but without his mom beside him, urging him on, giving him the push and helping him, with the tiny touches and just giving him the confidence to keep going, felt wrong somehow. Without Becca beside him, keeping him steady, it wasn't right.
"Ryan," I was staring at Billy, getting the strength from just seeing his face to ask the question that I knew we needed the answer to, "have you had any feelings of -" I stopped, trying how best to ask it. "Have you had any sort of -" I couldn't do it, I realized, I couldn't ask this little boy if he'd lost control or if he noticed that he COULDN'T lose control.
Billy grabbed control of the reigns from me, thank fucking GOD, and found a way to ask what I couldn't. "What the good doctor here is trying to ask, is -" he took a deep breath, and I knew it was just as difficult to bring it up, more so since it meant both of them would remember losing HER. "Have you found yourself getting upset and feelin' like you felt when your mum," their eyes met and I felt like I'd disappeared completely from the room. "Hey, it's alright," Ryan had started to fold in on himself, but Billy stopped him with a shaking hand on his shoulder. "You know she didn't blame you."
"She should have," Ryan was shaking, almost rocking from the pain of the memory and I felt like the worst sort of interloper. "I killed her." His eyes were glassy and I could feel how deeply he still felt it, the pain of what happened to his mom. "I killed her and now I have nobody."
If anything would trigger his powers, an outburst, a reaction, THIS - the pain of the loss of his mother, the memory of how it happened should have caused SOMETHING. "Ryan?" I hated to interrupt, but I had to. "Do you know about the inhibitors?" His gaze met mine and my heart broke a little more when he nodded, affirming what I started to suspect as he spoke about the loss of Becca. "Did you agree to them?" Another nod and another crack chipped away. "Why?"
"So I wouldn't hurt anyone else." It sounded so simple, and to a child it was. But to an adult, and to the two that were seated with him, it was far more complicated and complex.